Lunatic Fringe

Thanks all, for the kind wishes in support of another year's passing. I confess I find Facebook to be an insincere medium for conveying any sort of emotion, but alas, these are the times we live in, and the (digital) cards we are dealt. I've compiled a voluminous chronicle of my thoughts on the past year, but, in the spirit of gift-giving and good will, I shall spare you few intrepid souls who would dare read it the effort (that is for another day). In summation, I had a perfectly pleasant and indulgent day, punctuated by close family and periods of equally intense sunshine and rain. And while I'm wholly uncertain, in regards to the existence of some panacea cum greater plan, in it's absence, I can accept the trappings of fidelity and sun showers as a nod and an allusion to something else, if nothing else. And at the end of the day, as is my wont on birthdays, I allow for anxiety and misgiving to assume their places of distinction as chief occupiers of my thoughts. ...

Thinking a lot about Bradley Manning these past few days. While this nation's government encourages, facilitates, and rewards people for "blowing the whistle" on corporations and their fellow citizens, when it comes to the illegalities, immoralities, and improprieties of our government institutions, doing the very same thing can cost you your life, or everything else, failing that. War is hell, and national security is a dirty business, but to throw away humanity, morality, ethics, and human decency for the sake of obscure goals leaves us as a people resembling the very archetypes and monsters our enemies accused us of being in the first place. One government's traitor is another man's hero, and while very often the reality of the situation is obfuscated by the rhetoric, morals, and laws on either side, it should be obvious to any decent person that we cannot let the canaries in the coal mines go unheard, else-wise it won't be much longer until we're...

There are times when I am alone in thought that it occurs to me- outside of memories- death is nearer and sooner realized than any return to the joys or things I used to be, and I despair. But there is also a voice, not long after, and not unlike a heartbeat, which is insistent that, despite the loss of years, the opportunity to do and be exactly what I want is ever before me, and is only so far away as the next moment. And in this fashion, with hope and curiosity, I am entreated to continue forward. And so I go, towards the greater balance of everything yet to be. So must we all.

Senator, This is the same flawed thinking which allowed for the Patriot Act, with it's robust capabilities to infringe upon civil rights, and it's pittance of terror related convictions. The bald faced truth is that for the foreseeable future no state or government will every sufficiently be able to defend against cyber attacks of any degree of sophistication, as evidenced by the repeated and incessant attacks perpetuated by groups both private and state-sponsored, by us, against us, etc. Citing danger as an excuse for infringing upon the rights and liberties of innocent and law-abiding citizens is never excusable, though it is done with an ever-increasing and frightening regularity. This is not as you say striking a balance, this is the eroding away via legislation of the basic rights of privacy otherwise afforded by the US Constitution. With all due respect, until those elected in to power realize it is not theirs to wield, but rather to shepherd, on behalf of those who...

Birthdays make me squeamish. Holidays do too. And for that matter so do closing cabinets, opening envelopes, the changing of the seasons, and the passing of most cyclical events. I’ve been struggling with this birthday lately, perhaps because it didn’t give me the sort of anxious feelings that were any different than the ones I’ve always felt this time of year. We as humans like round numbers, we attach value to them, laud them, commemorate them, and build our lives around them. I’ve always struggled with them, forcing me to count has always forced me to count the things I miss, my beloved grandmother, and the darling Cocker Spaniels I’ll never see again. These round numbers to me are quite heavy, but of course this is no one’s fault, just a matter of fact, much like mile markers along the road we are all traveling, they are no more or less special to me than they are for anyone else, they just are. But still these thoughts persist, and I think I think the best I can surmise about th...

Dear denizens of Yankee Universe (I hope I get the address right), We, as Red Sox fans, recognize that the team is playing awful, horrible, putrid, baseball, and are in the midst of an epic collapse. And if the team fails to make the playoffs, it will be because of the loud sucking sound coming from Fenway park, not from the vacuum that is between your ears (you, the dumb Yankee fans). The goal of the regular season is to make the playoffs, and in fact, by winning the AL East, and taking the last three from Tampa, your beloved New York Yankees have done the Red Sox a huge favor, as we have actually increased our Wild Card lead, despite losing 3 of 4 to the vaunted Fighting Showalters. So to reiterate, we are quiet because our team sucks, not because we're dismayed about the Yankees being so friggin' awesome- we're actually ecstatic that they've won these last three. Thanks, morons, and congratulations on being literate. :) Also, 'ecstatic' means you're feeli...

In times of doubt, my greatest ambitions are often my darkest enemies. My undoing predicated by the words of my choosing, my fate before me the very sword of my hand, offering me nothing more than a place to fall. It is an ugly thing to see a few moments into the future, the world is always burning before my eyes. Those are the fires of passion, the very same which have always burned brightest within me – always first to fight, ever first to love, unreservedly first to tears. When governed cautiously they serve me well, give me warmth, they light up my nights, and in the night give daylight to my dreams. But where I am lost is where they become master, it is then that the fire burns too bright, it is then when all is consumed. Afterwards where once there were dreams, I am left with nothing but the embers of calamity. Adversity will try us all, in it’s own time, and through it’s own paces. Some more than once, some more than others. Our greatest defenses against it are also our basest: ...

Mitch is 30 today, Bob Dylan is 70. In light of that fact, I've compiled my definitive list of favorite Bob Dylan songs, strictly in alphabetical order, as there isn't enough in a lifetime to figure it out any other way. Enjoy. 1. 4th Time Around 2. Abandoned Love 3. Bob Dylan’s 115th Dream 4. Born in Time 5. Brownsville Girl 6. Buckets of Rain 7. Changing of the Guards 8. Chimes of Freedom 9. Don’t Think Twice, It’s All Right 10. Every Grain of Sand 11. Forever Young 12. Girl From the North Country 13. I Shall be Free 14. I Want You 15. If Not for You 16. If you see her, say hello 17. It takes a lot to laugh, it takes a train to cry 18. It’s All Over Now, Baby Blue 19. It’s Alright, Ma (I’m Only Bleeding) 20. Just Like A Woman 21. Knockin’ On Heaven’s Door 22. Lay, Lady, Lay 23. Like A Rolling Stone 24. Love Minus Zero/No Limit 25. Meet Me in the Morning 26. Mississippi 27. Most of the Time 28. Mr Tambourine Man 29. My Back Pages 30. One of Us Must Know (Sooner Or Later) 31. O...

The world lights up. The monster’s machine apparitioned, materialized, and became very real just above the trees in the near-morning, nearby sky. The dog was gone now, and too soon was everything else going to be. There was no panic, simply dread, a simple dread that would never be recorded, as there are no annals in oblivion. And Melpomene is here, beautiful as ever. Years now since I’d seen her in the day time, her countenance equal parts diffident and indifferent. She names a place we can go, a one I’ve never heard of. It can’t be our secret, as I’ve never breathed it. I ponder getting there--contemplate what just may have been her revelation of an afterlife. Could it be a place she knows, a place she’s been? How could it be that she’s been there? I abhor unanswered questions, how loathsome then, and unfitting an end, this is to be. Struck to the quick by the sheer audacity of this moment to have chosen now to come into being, I double back for a second, last, long, look at Melpomen...

In hardship lies opportunity. Perhaps the purpose of the challenges we face in life is to see how far you can go before you break. Once the dust has settled and you have risen, look around. You'll realize you've been blessed with experience, perspective, and over the course of the journey to where you are from where you once were, a lot more room to do all the things you wanted to do when you were timid.

Checked out KOL Sunday night with some good company. The weather threatened for most of the day, though in the end it was much to-do about nothing, as it turned out to be quite a nice night to be outdoors. Caught a few songs from the opening act, The Whigs, a southern rock outfit from Athens, Georgia. I enjoyed their sound, but nothing jumped out at me to wow me. The set change was quick and punctual, and then the Kings came out. Lead singer Caleb Followill clearly did not appear to be entirely pleased with his vocals throughout the concert, and eventually said as much at a point or two throughout the set. I was impressed with the sound the guys put out, the rhythm section has a good rapport (surprise, surprise), and lead guitarist Matthew has some interesting takes on sonic production while playing, which I appreciated. I felt like there was decidedly an energy lacking, which was covered up (attempted) by the blinding light show they had going on behind them. All in all, the Kings hav...

Perhaps life is the dichotic exercise of actively seeking the points of being where the body breaks, but the spirit endures. This must be undertaken vigorously, honestly, and never just once: for the only thing on this earth we are meant to do but once is to live.

I could stop right here, and remain broken. There’s a familiar feeling, this pain, just like so many broken times before. But this is not the end, just as those other broken times were not the end. To endure is an impish smile in the face of an indifferent maker. Persevere now, let the barbs and arrows of an injurious world create a tapestry upon your back. Laugh as the hooks sink deep, gloat as they tear your flesh, and as the blows subside, remain. Deal in survival in the low places where all else peddle pain. I will weep, and I will wail, and then I will howl, and then I will continue. This is not what breaks me, this is simply sustenance. From the pain I grow, from this moment on I now go. (I haven't written in months, boy does it show)

All their lives dogs are digging holes, monuments to their vitality, visual reminders of where they’ve been. And still it’s remarkable that we don’t truly see the greatest hole they’ve left us with until after they’ve gone - the one in our hearts.

"Gather sunshine, and let the ills of the world spoil with the first frost of confusion, this is the harvest of the wisdom of old age." Increasingly in the day to day of things I find myself looking upon something that reminds me of a face, or a thing I find familiar from places I cannot go. My heart leaps, just as quickly my thoughts betray me like a soft whisper-- "Once upon a time." And just like that it's once again at my fingers- if the past could be something tangible- and the embraces of those that once loved me envelop me in the indelible hold of something that once was. I posit vehemently here that we are never really alone if we were ever truly loved. And still these bursts - these disquieting storms of emotion, and creation - come to me. Like the steam hisses hot, the twitches remind me: That I am alive, and not forever of this mortal coil. Not a thing at all here is given-- And yet at the same time anything at all is possible. Looking up at these cel...

I met an old friend the other day, asked me why I walked slower, explain about talking lower. I opined about a heavy heart, the sort one would drag around, whispered it’s hard to speak up when everything's looking is down. 'Cept I can still fake it, and make it if I gotta. Said I just plain don’t wanna. There’s no room for lies in a room full of sad eyes. See that’s all I see, and the same’s foryou, as you've been lookin’ at me. -- But let me tell you, like I told her – Some sunny day it’ll all come back - a bolt from the blue - a cold shot up my back. She inquired after the hows, and a date as to when it'll be? And I replied honest and slow, lord I don’t know. Just the same she'd be welcome to wait, along side me. -- In the mean time I can still hop to music, and saunter on a sunny day -- it’s all just a matter of keepin’ the beat, and swingin’ away.

Nothing has less in common than all of the girls that have loved me,just like in the right frame of mind, all sunny days are the same. The sensation of some girls is best described as a fog you have to walk out of. It’s a beguiling sort of demise. A perfumed haze, naked, and wicked, and as helpless as it is assured. Ephemeral in her wants, perpetual in her haunts. It passes quickly, washes over you like a tidal wave, and just as violently, she retreats. Defenses are dares. Try to retreat and still you remain a sojourner, breathless like the night, words take form on her lips like clouds blocking out the midday sun, your world becomes as barren as the moon. And always that fog, she hems you in until even her weaknesses she can turn against you. The lighthouse in the storm becomes just another snare, and the wind and the water and the waves join in chorus against you. Her smile is the shore they long to break you upon. It takes years, if you are so bold as to throw yourself to the tempes...

People will always disagree with you, don't let it break you. People will incessantly doubt you, don't be one of them yourself. Be always positive about who you are, and where you stand. Be tirelessly for the things around you, and those who stand with you. And when it comes time to be counted, endeavor always to be remembered as one who rallied friends and foes alike with the strength, and passion, of your conviction. And may you forever be a beacon of positive light, a buoy against the storms of adversity. For your passion carries infinitely more weight than the minor drag of those would rather drown you in a sea of differences than allow you to live happily on a different shore.