New things in my life

My left pointy finger is numb and cold. I think I squashed a nerve in my back that travels through my forearm and attaches to it.

This apartment smells like apples.

The Eastern Panhandle of West Virginia does to.

I saw a fox in downtown Chesapeake the other night.

Last night at work a co-worker told me a shofar (a rams horn) is the sound of God and asked me if we had one at church. I said no and told him you can't blow those things in Virginia Beach because the police will put you in jail. He then proceded many times that night to imitate a rams horn because he thought I was being too secular.

I got plenty of rest when I clocked out and went home.

I ate the rest of the jalepeno flavored pretzels for part of my breakfast.

My car needs washed.

I lifted weights 1/2 and hour ago and want more food but all the dishes are being washed in the dishwasher.

Moon-Watcher

In the book, 2001 A Space Odyssey, (my current read) Moon-Watcher is the leader of the last tribe of hominids in Central Africa around 3 million years ago.

Note: I don't think the Theory of Common Descent is the best explanation of reality, but it does make for a good story.

He is nearly five feet tall, hairy, and has two women and a cave. What cements his status as a local legend is the day he kills a leopard and impales the head on a stick. This act alone makes him ruler of the free world and the inventor of shish-kabob. Which brings me to my next topic-current world leaders.

My aunt sent me this picture of one world leader and I don't know what to make of it. I'll let you write the caption.

Thank You

from http://www.edvard-munch.com/Paintings/anxiety/scream_3.jpg

I want to take this time right now to thank all the drug and chemical manufacturers at Bayer Pharmaceuticals for the wonderful mind-altering and semi-hallucinogenic substances that you sell to the general public.

The last 24 hours went by quicker than I thought thanks to your products.

While laying prostrate since late Tues,early Wednesday. . .details are fuzzy. . .I had much time to reflect on how much I have yet to accomplish in Life. I also had some very very strange dreams which is to be expected when it feels like Satan himself visits you and is jabbing your forehead with a laser beam and making you feel like experiencing the ice cream headache from the 7th level of Hades.

I dreamed (by the way. . .I've never done any illegal drugs in my life). . .that the government passed a law sending all Americans back to their 8th grade English class for a semester of remedial treatment. All my grade school friends were there, including their wives, children, and other English teachers (not everyone-some had died). And we spent the day going over gerunds, and dangling participles, and how we should put i before e except after c (and some other word). And I remarked how fat the former cheerleaders were. At lunch, we went to Africa and were standing on a bridge watching a herd of 1,000 elephants drink from a river. I had one picture left and then discovered my camera had a chip that could record 100 more. Then we went to a petting zoo with antelope, springboks, white-tailed deer, elk, moose, sheep, goats, and zebras. One of the antelopes was head-butting a baby goat, then a lion escaped, but nobody paid much attention because we were going to England. In England, we came to a mountain that looked almost exactly like the one I grew up on, except instead of houses there were enormous trains. It was, in fact, a museum dedicated to trains. . .and all the trains were about 100 feet high and painted in bright shiny colors. Then we went to a ski lodge because somebody wanted to rent a jet plane on call up there to 'cruise around a bit.' The pilot was there watching us though none of us knew it, and we were discussing rumors about how much of a drunk he was. Nobody rented the jet.

Then, I met a man who designed a jet-car. I saw him flying through the air over some very high mountains (Pyrenees?), then he ejected in a thing like a rocket and parachuted down to earth in an asbestos and kevlar parachute that felt like one of those scouring pads one uses to wash dishes.

Back to the lodge, we made plans to go skiing next week in West Virginia. I told the guys I went just a few weeks ago forgetting that it hasn't snowed in West Virginia since, oh, the last Ice Age, but somehow I distinctly remember doing so, but it was very muddy.

Then I woke up, drank an espresso, cooked an omelet, and prayed never to go through an experience like that ever again.

You can start psycho-analyzing me now.

My sister's cool MySpace account.

Motivation

I am taking a break from Regent U this semester to finish working on a science-fiction novel. I need a break.

A man who has no purpose in life cannot possibly be motivated to do much. He may work hard and be very intelligent, but if he has no defined goal, he is fulfilling another man's dream. He is a mere pawn in another man's vision.

When a man has a specific dream, he cannot be stopped. He may encounter hardships and difficulties along the way, but the path to greatness is never easy. . .unless he wins the lottery. Besides, life wouldn't be that interesting if it weren't for all these little 'adventures' that people like to talk about when they're old and gray and smell funny.

Profoundnessness

"I used to be with it. But then they changed what it was. Now what I'm with isn't it. And what's it seems weird and scary to me."
- Abe Simpson

It is high noon here on the east coast and (so far) this is my deepest thought of the day.

The new manshack and some philosophy

Here, ladies and gentlehobbits is the new place. . .the new castle. . .which during hurricanes has a fairly cool moat.

And now, some philosophy. . .



"Every ant knows the formula of its anthill
Every bee knows the formula of its beehive
They know it in their own way, not ours
Only mankind does not know its formula"

--Fyodor Dostoevsky

And thus we rely on alternate means to make meaning of Life. Means that were not meant to be used, or rather, we use our faculty of logic which is an attempt to reduce everything down to biology. I'm talking Survival of the Fittest, Reductionism, the Law of the Jungle.

This is the natural inclination of mankind when he forgets, or fails to realize, that there exists a spiritual reality far more concrete than the physical reality we observe with our biological senses. The one composed of atoms, molecules, electrons, quarks, and muons all the way up to planets, solar systems, and galaxies.

When a civilization fails to acknowledge the unseen, all it's decisions must be based on the seen. In due course, that civilization must decline, like Rome.

But you say, "Well, in a hedonistic society like 2006 America, we're doing pretty good."

That's because we are living on the moral capital of the last 200 years. Furthermore, are modern Americans really better off now than they were in, say, the 1950's?

Most people I see are obese, dull-witted, and unable to think an original thought more than twice a week (I'm trying to be nice here).

It seems to me that we are losing the moral momentum of the previous generations, and are slowing down, fast, due to the friction of immorality.

Yes, miracles do happen

At precisely 10:19 A.M. as I lay sleeping in bed, with one cocked open staring at the little green led on my dsl modem,(The one that has not been on for 3 weeks),I witnessed a miracle. I heard a pop! and lo! the little green light came on!

Hurriedly, I picked up my phone to congratulate the copper-wire-using Horrorizon telecommunications ogre on arriving to the 21st century and heard voices talking. . .Voices of people that do not live in this apartment. . .and classical music.

In time, the voices ceased and the music stopped. A man then called asking if I wanted to test drive a BMW.

"Not right now," I'm still sleeping.

Another phone call. This time a different man called asking if I lived in the apartment beside mine. . .the one with the two old people and barking dog that keeps licking it's chops every time it sees me.

"No, I live here, not there."

OK, so he comes over here, as opposed to there, and asks if my dsl works. And it did, and still does. And I am still in shock and awe.

The brand spanking new Wigglepad

Unfortunately, this computer won't recognize any photos of the place except this one which is the very first thing one sees when walking through the door. What one actually sees when walking through the front door is an aquarium with 2 fighting fish, a Bob Dylan poster, some plants, a treasure chest, some cardboard boxes, and a hand-made wooden cobra with ruby eyes guarding a small wooden chest containing approximately $50 worth of Nepalese rupees, a golden ring (not THE ring of course), and two nice Gneiss rocks collected from Mt. Everest Base camp.

And one might also see a replica of van Gogh's Starry Night and Salvador Dali's Persistence of Memory.

Should you wish to call me, however, you might find it difficult since a certain telecommunications company, which we'll called Horrorizon, has been mysteriously unable to provide me with anything like telephone service for the past three weeks.

Today's sign of the Apocalypse

I saw a sign saying gas (87 octane) was $2.39/gallon and I thought to myself that this is really cheap.

Talk

A good conversation is like a dance. Two minds twirling around one another. Complementing souls. I've found in Life, the best talks complete you, make you whole. It's mental synergicism. Each sentence, each phrase contributing to some undefinable, yet tangible, masterpiece. A masterpiece seen only in the mind's eye, and not wholly complete or recognizable until after a lifetime.

Just Life

Moving.

This is the one week anniversary of my moving into a new apartment.
It's also the one week anniversary of Verizon telephone company being unable to reconnect my service.
And. . .It's the one week anniversary of not having an internet connection (This entry is being made on somebody else's computer)

It is strange having a roommate after the better part of a decade. And when it's your sister, whom you've only seen an average of once or twice a year since the late 90s, it's even stranger.

I must remind myself to stop talking to myself.