Lunatic Fringe

Labor with what zeal we will, Something still remains undone, Something uncompleted still Waits the rising of the sun. Society is based on time, each day we are inundated with all things ranging from menial to monumental- things arranged by time. This is not new, we are aware of time as a thing limited, as precious as it is perpetual, our part of it of course being finite. In light of this we are ever punctual for work, never to miss a dentist's appointment nor show up late for any sort of meeting which allows for the further scheduling or multi-tasking of our busy, compartmentalized life; we're always on time for obligations. Dutifully we tune into the bad-news at 6, we watch it all again at 11. Perhaps we are creatures of habit, all things being cyclical, perhaps these are our responsibilities, things we must do. Waits, and will not go away; Waits, and will not be gainsaid; By the cares of yesterday Each to-day is heavier made; What is curious, however, is how we never fail t...

It's something singular really, when love goes down. Maybe in a day, or in a night, or in the succession of those times both, as they encompass a life. All love is selfish, but I guess it's supposed to be that way. Or how it should start, at least. From the moment of inception we learn to love the things we do out of a familiar feeling of well-being, a sort of inherent, happiness-survival instinct. And I say that because it is how I remember my life - my own memory being of course the ultimate subjective entity I could ever think to convey. Selfish love is that flame which burns brightest. It is the mystery by which all other high emotions in our later lives are judged, and in turn they somehow pale in comparison; first love is a fatal affliction, one which we first encounter when all is innocence, we struggle to remake the hour, the inception, and the sheer profundity of the moment, even at times to the detriment of all other happiness we may have perhaps experienced. Selfish ...

Loverboy has said as much, and it shall be so. This weekend by the numbers: Money spent= way too much (we're going to get a personal advisor to handle that from now on). Hours of sleep= 2 (as in far too little, having been woken up to find missing keys). Number of chicks passed out on the couch with me Friday night= 2 Number of chicks I got action from Friday night= 0 - 2 (they're sleepers, these ones). Ounces of malt liquor consumed outside for the parade Saturday morning, 40, of course (St. Ides, I love you). Age of hot girl downstairs at Jillians= "24, but I'm engaged." Number of seconds it took me to eat the most breathtaking chicken sandwich ever, probably 24, and it was single (unless you count the fries it came with, in that case it was married, with fries). Number of doors broken by me= 1, but it was encouraged and a nice thing to do, in order to gain entrance. Friday, Evening: But let's get back to the matter at hand; Friday night was a card playing, ...

so I won't. How's that? And then there are dreams that cannot die, but those are all the same too, so nobody really wants to hear about them. So how about Valentine's Day? Everybody get a dozen roses and a box of chocolates, or jack shit like I did. Not to say I'm complaining, on the contrary, it takes about five minutes of semi-lucid thought to weigh the pros and the cons of having a significant (b)other on this most auspicious of holidays (or most commercial, depending on how you feel about it's conception as a marketing tool). In the spirit of that, let's do a list and break this whole thing down. In no particular order, the top two reasons why it's nice to be single on Valentine's Day. Why two you ask? Well February is the second month of the year of course, and two is my second favorite number (who really gives a shit about that one): Relationships-wise, I really suck at holidays. I mean seriously, ask former significant others, if they can talk abo...

Friday night was an Albany night. Buck, P.J. Grates, and myself made our way down to the capitol region to visit and frolic with the Belmonts, one last shot for all that is happiness and the enjoyment of good friends. Of course gambling occurred, of course we went to the Washington Tavern, of course there was a fight, because I'm a magnet but that's ok. That being said, when three o'clock rolled around it was decided that DiCarlo's was the best order of business for all involved, at this point two girls were included, and that made us cool on the strip club circuit. B.Y.O.B. = bring your own broads and you look like a boss player, we brought our own broads. The drinks were a gazillion dollars a bottle, I'm probably gonna have a hard time getting my wife to relinquish our first born child, as it was deeded to DiCarlo's for a round. Easily the night was enjoyable, and I wish repeatedly to convey the happiness, it was a special night. But like all good things, we w...

...Unless that walk is to a gun shop or to cause much destruction. This here is the truth as I saw it, as it was handed down Saturday night, and like Ice Cube once said, "the names have been changed to protect the guilty." Hindsight being what it is, I believe I should have seen it all coming, and if I had Saturday to do over again I would have stayed home by myself and cried because I wasn't cool enough to get invited to Syracuse with the rest of Frankfort; rather I soldiered on, and boy was that a mistake. Of course the night started out peaceably enough, but don't they all start out that way? A small gathering was had at Timmy's, where we were all subjected to Patriots football, which probably put the crowd into a bad mood right out of the box. I countered by watching Cheaters, which is a phenomenal show, and there was this ugly guy cheating on his incredibly milf-worthy and tall and wonderful wife, but you know what they say, no matter how good looking a ...

The holiday season has steamed on through, how was yours? I had one of the best Christmases that I can remember. I made a concerted effort this year to try and see everybody significant in my life, and really slow everything down; and I can honestly say it went well, very stress free, something I didn't expect at all. For Christmas one of my gifts was a life-sized David Ortiz standup cut-out, needless to say it is a great conversation piece as well as an object which inspires terror deep in the bowels of my black lab Mickey. There have been some interesting encounters between those two, my two year old spoiled by my mother dog, and a large piece of cardboard, good times for all. This Christmas season featured some spirited board games between family members, I must say Chip and myself make a rather formidable Scene-It team, though Jon is pretty nasty, I think his girlfriend might have him in training watching Pretty in Pink and Sleepless in Seattle and shit like that, not that I...

To believe they never would. I had a wonderful time last night, attributable both to good company and negative ions (which in fact are the good ones, that make you feel giddy). But we'll get to that later, agreed? Once again the Christmas season is upon us, what's your favorite Christmas memory? Does everyone kinda have just one that always sums up to you what Christmas is all about? Whenever you hear a Christmas song or see lights or wrapping paper that's what you remember, you picture that person place or time and you go back to there. I know I have mine, and for the past few years that's what Christmas has been about. The thought of this idea always brings me back to something Tolstoy wrote, in his confessions; "That's what is amazing! It is possible to live only as long as life intoxicates us; once we are sober we cannot help seeing that it is all a delusion..." Each year it seems like it's harder to get away from the idea that my Christmas memory...

...another chick on my tip but it wonn't be you baby. Good times were had by all Friday. Some quick stats: Year until John Belmont knocks out Fro, this has been offered as a fact by John starting on November 5th 2005. Number of patties on my burger at Denny's. Number of people the waitresses could downsize their list of unattractive people at our table to. My favorite number (you needed to know that). o'clock a.m. the time we went to Denny's. ish, the time I got home. So there you go, after seconds of exhuastive research and twice as much time creative imbellishment you have the numbers for the night. Of course you will not get the number of spare tires Joe B. and I changed Friday night, nor the number of times I slapped the girl on the ass who was helping us, nor the number of excellent sexual innuendos I was able to make based on the common jargon and instruments used while changing a tire. But I owe you the loyal reader more than that, and I've got some time to k...

What do we know about social order? I have a sort of pet theory wherein people like to hang out in groups where everyone plays a role which is mutually beneficial to the pack. Like where semi-good looking chicks hang out with duds so as to look better, or where, well you get the idea, the term tool comes from situations as this being so. And then there is that rare breed of person who evolves within a group, so's to fill a role; or simply find a niche which is comfortable. It has been supposed, and I myself have nominated that the J-Bird is one of the finest haters our generation has ever seen. Let me espouse some of the qualifications and criteria which comprise a top-notch hater: The hater must have at some point been hated upon, the Bird has certainly been hated upon; you can ask his former girlfriend about this being so. The hater must be extremely hypocritical, such as when the Bird tells someone their actions are wrong when in fact he is simply jealous and would readily commi...

Because I have been a buzz-kill all day Sunday, I decided to unload it all right here, the guilty shall remain anonymous and I shall feel better. Kind of like putting a knife into the side of a jack o'lantern and leaving it on somebody's doorstep with a note attached that says YOU! Anyways, here goes, give it a read if you have like four spare hours and hate people too! They give me warmth, my eight brothers. I taste the blood of lands I've never been upon. And just now it occurs to me I am not alone, the past is upon the wall. Music enters softly into my being. There is not space left for feeling there, any longer. Rather I am, I am quite full; in counting I am at some sort of apex, but I have seen too many winters in mind, and my eyes are growing tired. It seems cynicism is a great elixer against the tonic of life that is youth. I draw the cup to my lips, this is the blood of the faith, I am of the fruit of the great defender, wrong as we ever may be, our histories are re...

I had a particularly unpleasant conversation tonight, it was quite mundane in detail, brief in length; and meaningless I'm sure, come tomorrow. But as for the here and present, I find I am quite agitated, mini-survey time folks, as I'm sure if you are reading this you know me reasonably well, and I like to think you think despite my eccentricities I am a rather level-headed person, but anyway the crux of this is as follows: If I was obviously upset, and leaned over to you and whispered in your ear to never, ever talk to me again, and then followed this by either not returning your phone calls or hanging up on you, what would you do? My guess is you'd possibly come personally to see me, or perhaps write an apology for the situation that had brought about the new state of affairs; but more likely if I were to tell someone not to talk to me it'd mean they probably cared about me as much as I did they, and such an insolvent bond could easily enough be broken as to leave bot...

But it appears you suck, a lot. Yesterday I was treated to both the Sox and the Bills getting slapped about by their various opponents, I had the face that people who commit road rage make. Losman didn't suck when I saw him in Buffalo in week one, maybe somebody told him that out of bounds was a good reciever and he should throw to him often, something like that. Anyway, the Buffalo trip; it was a very fun one. Multiple Fernallds, Belmonts, and Grates and I made the trip. Everyone was up bright and early, and extra cranky right out of the shoot. Somebody forgot to bring any number of restraining devices for Chris Belmont, and the best we could do was put him all the way in the back, which did very little, if nothing to stifle his bitter-aggression. Like an extra drunk John Stockton at an in-laws family reunion, Cb was dishing insults to everybody in sight; so it was a pretty routine trip. We did some nice tail-gating before the game, threw some alcohol down of course and then heade...

It's lonely where we are. And still we stay the night, to talk it all away. I ask so many questions when I know you're listening; and still I'm sure you ask me more. It seems around this time of year the questions always turn out the same, yours and mine. How I get to you, where you and I meet; how we'll ever be the same. I'll not forget the questions, though they be too numerous to ever put down by heart. To be most certain though, I'll never forget your answers, when you finally spoke that rainy night. You told me I'd always be alone, and that's why it was ok, I'd always be with you. Do you remember the night I tried to live, the first time I really heard you laugh out loud? The stars shining, the breeze restless as it always is; pushing through trees whose leaves have long ago decided there's someplace else they long to go. Your answers were never silence, I felt a little foolish at first; I didn't know what understanding really was, how i...

I had an interesting conversation late last night with someone I've known for a few years about relationships. We seemed to come to the same conclusion as to the effects of bad things happening to good people. We kinda thought bad things most likely happen to everybody, I specifically like to think humanity has been more or less a crap-shoot. What I mean to say is that I think the idea of such a thing as kharma or fate are only so significant as the esteem in which they are held by the individual; if you believe in fate for example, you'd be inclined to believe that whatever comes your way was more or less supposed to be that way, no matter the decision or reaction to a situation, the cards have long ago been dealt. Or all the old addages, what goes around comes around, reap what you sew, do unto others... could it be simply that we believe that if we ascribe to a certain set of general conduct rules, commandments, or other various doctrines of faith we are somehow due in ...

I sometimes dream in full movies, and I did last night so I gotta post it because it was cool and weird as hell, so here it goes... It was kinda like myself and some of my friends were vampire hunters, like John Carpenter's Vampires and I was James Woods only I looked the part. We were battling vampires at Sangertown Mall and doing well. The coolest part about the dream would had to have been whenever I was walking, that cool John Carpenter music followed me around. The one from his crappy escape movies but I had a cool snake Plisken vibe going, giving off cool one liners and such. The fights got bad and I lost my team in some pretty sad ways, mainly because we ran outta of gear (we only had holy water and wooden arrows). Tony for example was turned into a vampire in the arcade (I know the arcades gone but I remember what was good and pure) and I was forced to use the last of my holy water on him. John was trapped inside the Sicilian delight and didn't make it out. I was able t...

That I'll get poison ivy or one of it's ilk. Because that's how I roll. It's not as bad as the storm of '99 if anybody can remember how freakishly bad I looked; so that's good, but in the meantime I want to alternately cry, break stuff, and finally and most tantalizing of my urges I like to take the large knife conveniently situated nearby and poke my skin where it itches. Soothing, yes but not nearly enough. I can say with much certainty that I came in contact with this lovely predicament while in the gorge with none other than the infamous Joe B, checking out a waterfalls spot that he enjoys. Hey, I enjoyed hanging out there too, even going so far as to tout the re-invigorating effect of the free ions in the air around waterfalls and mountains. But my tune is slightly different now, that spot sucks; I can still picture Joe with the shovel whacking at all the bushes he could swing at, I know well enough not to disturb poison ivy or sumac or oak (somebody else d...