The Spell Is Everything

Some Harmony

It had been 12 days since
The last time we had heard
Or seen anyone,
When the Upchurches turned on me.

It isn’t boring.
The Sky opens for me sometimes,
The light plays with the shadow,
Making contrast,
Beautiful contrast,
Thus is created shape,
Distinction,
Perspective, Place
Distance,
Presence and lack.

But sometimes, the paper,
Blank,
Sits too long,
Taking on the curve
Of the manual typewriter’s Reel,
The feel not so straight,
So it gets caught
(stuck)
upon return.

The time before,
The moments past,
They pass.

They pass like the changing, fading
Colors of the sun setting.

Sun, dear sun,
Set,
Please settle with
Your quest to the west.

Go to where this turning
Leads you,
Leaving our side of the globe,
As we leave you,
In turn.

Think twice about thinking once.

Once upon a time,
Of the nights of Guinevere,
The Green Lady,
The nocturnal mornings in your heart.

I dream there too.
Alas,
Harpoons for the Whale.

It’s so nice,
It being still light.

For a second,
I wasn’t thinking about work.

We’re born Falling.

You can’t enjoy something
You don’t Respect.

Eating cookies in your mind.

Splashing your Ink around.

So many Dreams pile up
In the corners.

How can I persist?

I want Love.
I want Peace.
But unfortunately,
I live on planet Earth,
Home of the Humans,
And I am human.

“Oh no, not again.” –Hersh

My Clothes are all stitched
On the right hand side.

I don’t have a problem with words,
Just my Pride.
My Pain has a habit of hurting others.

Welcome to the Read.

I plead for you,
For us, for me.
Cause I can’t seem to find
The time, the pace for Grace.

Let’s live,
Why don’t we?

Good night is only a prelude
To the Morning.

I want afternoon.
I want twilight.
Goodness knows,
I’m good enough for the Blues.

Can’t play instruments well enough,
Except for this typewritten Bluff.

God knows, I’m rough.
God knows, I’m here.
And I fear Him,
As I fear everything,
Inside and out.

And maybe that’s all
I’m born for,
Contrary to personal opinion,
The Polls are reading Low.

Let go,
And ready for the next Blank.

It doesn’t seem to matter,
What wedding or funeral I attend,
I’m not good enough,
Enough to be there.

So this is my own gathering,
Here for you Strangers,
Like lunches made at Home,
I take them with me.

And I can only hope for
Moments of Heroics.

To make Meaning,
To make Worth,
I seek me,
I seek me in you,
As I do Temperature’s effect
On the morning dew.

Damn the questions,
And more so the Answers.

What ever happened to
The simplicity of Violence
And Murder and Reverence and Heroics?

Yes, that physical measure of success.

“I’ve been right here for 37 hours.” –Hersh

I will seek the Stories
I can’t see myself.
I will make the Narrative I miss.
I will find the music for this Rhyme.

I may not see it next to you,
By your side,
Dear heart,
Dear family,
But I will Seek.

It appears so many of us
Are spinning uselessly,
Or maybe that’s just the Internet,
Maybe that’s just America.

It is at such times
That the Hurt comes down,
The Challenge,
The way of less Subsistence.

I Believe,
Never think anything else of me.

I’d rather be building
Kingdoms of the Free,
Lands in time for all of us,
Comfortably.

But I will see,
I promise,
As long as I can
Keep my eyes open.

And I know there’s only
So much time on this Cycle,
But gasp and grasp
I will.

I wish,
I love,
I dish, and
Wipe away.

Exactly

Exactly the game I seem to be stuck playing these days...

District Act

Things we do to distract ourselves,

Messing with the mind grammar,

Shuffling words into conversations.


The nature of the Elements,

Is interactive mutual mutation,

Or some cosmic sharing on whatever scale.


Why are guns and love elemental?


What deities await in the their temples?


‘What?’, like the Brits say.

Is it time to rock out and twist?


Does the whole World need

To get together and talk?

Don’t we already?


Humans evolved to

Over come environmental change,

Quickly.


The answer is not today.

It is still early yet.


Cigarettes are a novelty

That shouldn’t become a habit.

It’s not fun anymore.


Music.

Music is sanity.


A disordered time for her,

And so,

Necessarily for me.



New situations.

There’s no end to the adventures

We can have

If we seek them with our eyes open.


What’s your perspective of ‘extreme’?


Are we gonna break this egg?



You and I

Feel the flesh around our souls.

We know the difference.



Maybe we’ll stop burning off steam,

And start flowing water.


What age is this,

When the fear of pain

Has overcome the fear of death?

[HAWT!]

Record set for hottest temperature on Earth

Scientists have produced superheated gas exceeding temperatures of 2 billion degrees Kelvin, or 3.6 billion degrees Fahrenheit.

This is hotter than the interior of our sun, which is about 15 million degrees Kelvin, and also hotter than any previous temperature ever achieved on Earth, they say.

The feat was accomplished in the Z machine at Sandia National Laboratories.

They don't know how they did it.



The Z machine is the largest X-ray generator in the world. It’s designed to test materials under extreme temperatures and pressures. It works by releasing 20 million amps of electricity into a vertical array of very fine tungsten wires. The wires dissolve into a cloud of charged particles, a superheated gas called plasma.

One thing that puzzles scientists is that the high temperature was achieved after the plasma’s ions should have been losing energy and cooling. Also, when the high temperature was achieved, the Z machine was releasing more energy than was originally put in, something that usually occurs only in nuclear reactions.



-thanks msnbc and Fortean Times

24 Double Header

Tonight, Fox features back to back episodes of 24

It's time to rock... Are you ready?

Do you have beer? Smokes? Ammo?

Do you have your 24 Drinking Game ready?


Have you stashed your special doughnuts with Edgar?
The Shire will burn if you don't.
-right on Mr. Bob



Will you be able to spot the difference between FAKE Jack
(shown above...notice the keyboard behind him?)

and REAL Jack?


One is a deadly patriot with a plastic gun,

the other is a posable plastic doll (kinda like Chiggy Killer).

Maybe CTU could use the doll as a diversionary tactic?
Like throw the doll against the windshield of an attacking terrorist's SUV,
or drop it from the CTU pursuit chopper.... and before they know it's a fake and miniture, the real Jack will have his gun against their temples.


Are you ready???


What do you hear?
Nothin' but the rain.
Grab your gun and bring in the cat.

Forget the wife, forget the kids,
It's time for Jack to bust some caps and lids.


Are you ready???


Will Jack's daughter, Kim return?

Here's a little test to sharpen your Kim awareness senses...

Again, one FAKE Kim, one REAL Kim:




Keep your eyes wide open,
watch for bad guys,

And Kim...



(You'll know if she's the real one by measuring the amount of drool
on your chin for an authentic Pavlovian response.)



Though, she may be wearing something a little different in the show...
we can always hope not!

Heinlein Quiz

ahg! Another silly quiz...

But, indeed one of my favorite books of all time.


You belong in The Moon is a Harsh Mistress. You

value freedom above all else. You would

fight and die for your family and your home.


Which Heinlein Book Should You Have Been A Character In?
brought to you by Quizilla

See The Butterfly

Count your blessings
By the accidents
You walk away from.

“You’re gonna miss my loving
One of these old days.”

Robert Cray

Help me Lord,
For I have sinned.
And I don’t know where
I lost the power
To begin again.

“Early one morning,
When I got out of bed…”

“All because of these things…”

“And the forecast calls for pain.”

Being conscious sucks,
You’re aware of how much you hurt.

I look for your eyes
I look in your eyes and see mine.

All you need is love.

And I’m happy,
If I see you.

I don’t want the other side of town.

Truth lives,
Negotiating near me.

Are we just floating chunks
of the Internet,
Lumps of creative force in a
New Primordial Soup.

Efficiency is the easiest power.

In the distance,
A Venus Pillar.



So cold it is these mornings,
The icicles don’t melt
With the Sun full upon them.

We’re temperate beings,
Sensitive to the speed
At which the world vibrates.

Make fun of what you’re doing.

If our dreams fall short of our insight,

If the footlights catch the stage afire,

If the Television trivialized sight and sound,

Did the computer, and
Automated word processing,
Trivialize the work of document creation,
That difficult discipline of
Our expression surviving ourselves.

Of course,
Difficulty keeps pace with innovation.

And so perhaps the Soul
Can only keep pace with
The lively trials it must experience.

There’s nothing wrong with
Accelerating your choices and actions.
Life will accelerate alongside you on its own.

Fearing change may be
The most detrimental sin,
Not in the biblical sense,
Merely the practical.

Stasis is stolen water.

So dear ones,
Continue your Hunt
For the rattling legends of happiness.

Repeat after me,

I see the butterfly.