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Monday, September 29, 2008

Humble Pie Anyone?

They squared off as men in a killin' rage do.

i'll take a moment to say, that's not something i claim to understand.  It's not something i feel; i'm a slow wick.  The life drains out of me when the subject that's makin' me angry is human.  Like a circuit breaker trips and cuts all emotion until the moment passes.  Later, i'll be functionally psychopathic: stabbing tupperware and making death threats to Rottweilers but at The Moment, the moment of contact, during the incident, when the source of my fury is there furiously making fury, nothing, bupkiss, nobody home.  Can't explain it, but there it is.  

Duke is different.

So's the Hugh.  (Names have been nicked so that people can feel free to make stupid in their anonymity.)

The Hugh made a demand.  It doesn't matter what it was, it was something he needed.  Most people would call it a favor.  Bosses call it your job.  Nothing major, i didn't like it but i went along cause the Hugh is my boss.  That's what i do.  No big deal. 

Duke is different.  The Duke thought it was a big deal.  The Duke was no happy.  No happy a'tall.  But he held it in.  He had nothing to say to the Hugh when he showed up but for the Duke, that's progress.  i know the Duke wanted to rant and rave and defend his viewpoint.  i know the Duke thought it was unfair and would normally have told everyone within earshot.  But he was biting his tongue and going along with it.  i didn't like his 'tude but hey, he's my friend.  That's what i do.  No big deal.

The Hugh is different.  The Hugh felt betrayed.  The Hugh felt that he was the one making all the concessions and this was the thanks he got.  He needed something done and he got 'tude.

"The stage was set, the sun was sinking low down,
as they came to town to face... another show down.
The lawmen cleared the people from the streets,
"All you bloodthirsty bystanders, won't you try to find your seats..."*

When the smoke cleared and the dust settled, i was short one partner and the company's primary team, the only consistent team the Hugh has had in the three years i've worked for him, was gutted.  Cut in half.  And the Hugh was trying on rationalizations to see if any made his butthead look big.

Either man could have backed down.  Either man could have admitted he was wrong or at least took the time to see the other's side.  Either man could have been the bigger man by putting the other man's needs or wants ahead of his own.  

But the Hugh and the Duke are different.
And i wonder how proud they're feeling now?

*The Eagles, Doolin and Dalton/ Desperado Reprised

Monday, September 15, 2008

Stray bullet

Hopefully i'll get to do more with this thought later but for now this is all i got and i don't want to forget it so i'll tell you so you can remind me later....

Humble pie is not a desert,
it's a medicine.

Tuesday, September 09, 2008

Lament of Everything explained

17 To Adam he said, "Because you listened to your wife and ate from the tree about which I commanded you, 'You must not eat of it,' 
       "Cursed is the ground because of you; 
       through painful toil you will eat of it 
       all the days of your life.

 18 It will produce thorns and thistles for you, 
       and you will eat the plants of the field.

 19 By the sweat of your brow 
       you will eat your food 
       until you return to the ground, 
       since from it you were taken; 
       for dust you are 
       and to dust you will return."

And i wonder and write laments about how hard it is to just eke out a living.  Silly fricken.

One mississippi, two mississippi...

When i was a kid, back in the Early Neolithic, we played guns.  Kids around the neighborhood, and sometimes from distant neighborhoods would line up at the arsenal, our woodshed, and we would reenact the opening of SWAT.  Handing out assault weapons as the boys and girls, alright, girl, that Somers kid was a bit of a tomboy, but call her that and she'd deck ye, filed past.  Then we would fan out across the backyards, field and courts to do battle, hits recorded in the usual fashion: 
"Bam!  Got you, Nathan!"
"Did not!"
"Liar!  I totally blew you away!"
"I was prone!"  A sure defense.
"I could see your head, your dead!"
"Fine!  One...Two...Three..."

Now my eight year old kills kids and adults from Japan, Spain, France, the UK and who knows where in spectacular detail online.  There may be some debate about whether or not you should be dead but the computer has no doubts.  One thing is still the same however...

Count five mississippi and you're back in the game.  Might be a metaphor for life in that somewhere.

Sunday, September 07, 2008

Open a window

It occurs to me that the Coop has been a rather disturbingly dank and depressing place of late.  There are two possible explanations for this...

one: that the world is a disturbingly dank and depressing place

two: i tend to write when i'm in a bad mood

i lean towards two.  The sun is rising over the Coop's surrounding woods and the ragged remnants of T-storm Hannah have moved on to worry someone else's weather forecasters and few others.  The light is tinted warm.  The air is cool and clean.  The Cricket Philharmonic is performing an operetta with the Avian Dawn Choir.  Even the Tabasco Cat is at peace.  There is much to be appreciative of on a quiet Sunday morning.  i just put down a marvelously dull and amateurish novel that gives me great hope of someday being published or at least the renewed belief that there is a need for better reading material.  Though it does raise concerns for a culture and society that would publish such drivel.  My family is healthy, mostly happy and sleeping soundly.  The coffee's good.  The bills are paid and the Iggles play at one.

So what's to complain about?


Saturday, September 06, 2008

Lament of Everything (apologies for the profanities)

Spiders in my head
Cobwebs catch on everything
Cling to everything
Griming everything

Run to the North!
Animals bore into the North
Claws that tear, tear at everything
teeth gnaw on everything
shit on everything

Run to the South!
Teeth rattle loose in the skull
Wind bleeds through everything
Water soaks into everything
molding, rotting everything

Run to the East!
Rot, ruin, claws and teeth
Everything in the East
Bitter tears in the East
Let the weeds have the East

Run to the West!
Out the door and into the West
Run far from everything
hide from everything
leave everything

People bore into my head
People cling to everything
tear into everything
shit on everything

Run to the West!
To where the sun sets
Let night fall on everything
hide everything
shit on everything

My God!
My God what have you done?
You took everything
You bore everything
Bitter tears for everything

Your tears fall like rain
Like a flood on everything
wash away everything
fall on everything

O Heart!
Heart full of filth
Give up, give up everything
wash away everything
Let go of everything

Run to the Cross!
Cling to the cross, O heart
It paid for everything
renewed everything
makes sense of everything

Everything is new
Everything is clean
In the heart
heart of my God