<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226</id><updated>2011-09-26T15:24:05.259-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mirror and Shadow</title><subtitle type='html'>The continuing exploration of the infinite abyss...</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>126</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-3332718520040867577</id><published>2010-05-03T20:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-03T20:36:39.138-07:00</updated><title type='text'>From her, to me</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;I've Got Your Number&lt;/b&gt;, by &lt;i&gt;Passion Pit&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; line-height: 20px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; line-height: 20px; "&gt;I’ve always felt so scared of all this needing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; line-height: 20px; "&gt;Everyone that I’ve met has been somewhat mistreated&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; line-height: 20px; "&gt;That’s how it feels when you know that something’s wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; line-height: 20px; "&gt;Then you came along like a swan off of the lake&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; line-height: 20px; "&gt;You flew across my eyes and out into space,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; line-height: 20px; "&gt;And I ran and I crawled and I chased to get a taste.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; line-height: 20px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; line-height: 20px; "&gt;That’s what I did… (Whoa!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; line-height: 20px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; line-height: 20px; "&gt;If there’s just one thing you got to remember;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; line-height: 20px; "&gt;Is to write down your name and your phone number&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; line-height: 20px; "&gt;That way I’ll have it and we’ll make something out of this mess, Oh!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; line-height: 20px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; line-height: 20px; "&gt;And if all else fails then the ship won’t set sail.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; line-height: 20px; "&gt;God forbid but I guess the both of us will bail&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; line-height: 20px; "&gt;But as far as I can tell I think things will be swell.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; line-height: 20px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; line-height: 20px; "&gt;Have you seen me cry tears like diamonds&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; line-height: 20px; "&gt;Down and down they fly, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; line-height: 20px; "&gt;Faster and faster like the speed of our love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; line-height: 20px; "&gt;Batting a thousand, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; line-height: 20px; "&gt;but a homerun crack at love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; line-height: 20px; "&gt;This is where I tell you that, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; line-height: 20px; "&gt;I know love's what I need to work at&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; line-height: 20px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; line-height: 20px; "&gt;So now the two of us rely on each other&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; line-height: 20px; "&gt;With our premonitions out in the gutter&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; line-height: 20px; "&gt;Who would have thought that I’d make it this far&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; line-height: 20px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; line-height: 20px; "&gt;I’ll make it seem like I’m stronger but I’m quite the actor&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; line-height: 20px; "&gt;And now I’m so caught up and I can’t escape this pattern&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; line-height: 20px; "&gt;But when I started losing hope, there you were, there you bloomed&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; line-height: 20px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; line-height: 20px; "&gt;Have you seen me cry tears like diamonds&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; line-height: 20px; "&gt;Down and down they fly, faster and faster like the speed of our love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; line-height: 20px; "&gt;Batting a thousand, but a homerun crack at love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; line-height: 20px; "&gt;This is where I tell you that, I know love's what I need to work at&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; line-height: 20px; "&gt;(Whoa!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; line-height: 20px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; line-height: 20px; "&gt;Diggy diggy diggy diggy diggy boom boom!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; line-height: 20px; "&gt;Diggy diggy diggy diggy diggy boom boom!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; line-height: 20px; "&gt;Diggy diggy diggy diggy diggy boom boom!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; line-height: 20px; "&gt;Diggy diggy diggy diggy diggy boom boom!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; line-height: 20px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; line-height: 20px; "&gt;Have you seen me cry tears like diamonds&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; line-height: 20px; "&gt;Down and down they fly, faster and faster like the speed of our love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; line-height: 20px; "&gt;Batting a thousand, but a homerun crack at love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; line-height: 20px; "&gt;This is where I tell you that, I know love's what I need to work at, oh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; line-height: 20px; "&gt;What I need to work at, oh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; line-height: 20px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; line-height: 20px; "&gt;For someone else's poetry, this hits us fairly square on the head. And I love her for seeing that. Oh, all "diggy diggy's" and booms aside, of course. :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 10px; line-height: 20px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-3332718520040867577?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/3332718520040867577/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=3332718520040867577' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/3332718520040867577'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/3332718520040867577'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2010/05/from-her-to-me.html' title='From her, to me'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-3045477494994027053</id><published>2008-09-14T22:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-14T22:36:59.320-07:00</updated><title type='text'>remember, remember, the 4th of November</title><content type='html'>It is not the fool one must fear, it is the fearful. It is not ignorance one must combat, for intellect can be just as easily paralyzed by fright, or distracted by the magician's other hand. Just as passion sets the field upon which reason plays, one must win the heart in order to win the mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have myriad more thoughts on this line...but this, I needed to get out of my head.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-3045477494994027053?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/3045477494994027053/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=3045477494994027053' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/3045477494994027053'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/3045477494994027053'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2008/09/remember-remember-4th-of-november.html' title='remember, remember, the 4th of November'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-7946529121896742361</id><published>2008-08-19T19:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-19T20:01:39.133-07:00</updated><title type='text'>for sale</title><content type='html'>Mindhacks posts some &lt;a href="http://www.mindhacks.com/blog/2008/08/the_best_jobs_in_lif.html"&gt;interesting research&lt;/a&gt; on motivation in the workplace. This falls very strongly in line with an 'operating assumption' slash credo I've had for many years now. Some of you may have been present on occasions when I've mounted the soapbox and preached about the dangers of monitizing a passion. Or, in other words, the partial myth that having a job in the field that you love most is the best thing. Money, or other externalized measures of worth, have a powerful tendancy to hijack your value system.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some things just aren't worth taking money for.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-7946529121896742361?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/7946529121896742361/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=7946529121896742361' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/7946529121896742361'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/7946529121896742361'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2008/08/for-sale.html' title='for sale'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-8659846377427636760</id><published>2008-08-19T19:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-19T19:31:40.464-07:00</updated><title type='text'>internet time-killers</title><content type='html'>totallylookslike.com&lt;br /&gt;lpcoverlover.com&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enjoy. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-8659846377427636760?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/8659846377427636760/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=8659846377427636760' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/8659846377427636760'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/8659846377427636760'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2008/08/internet-time-killers.html' title='internet time-killers'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-1460126838963610153</id><published>2008-08-10T17:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-10T17:40:20.922-07:00</updated><title type='text'>This Is It</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.newyorker.com/online/2008/04/14/080414on_audio_erdrich"&gt;Dance In America&lt;/a&gt;, a short story that, for me, rivals Bullet In The Brain. It's enough to make you heave deep laughs in public, and leak small tears in front of strangers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-1460126838963610153?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/1460126838963610153/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=1460126838963610153' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/1460126838963610153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/1460126838963610153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2008/08/this-is-it.html' title='This Is It'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-5776111155222416282</id><published>2008-08-02T19:08:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-02T19:09:58.259-07:00</updated><title type='text'>physics porn</title><content type='html'>http://www.boston.com/bigpicture/2008/08/the_large_hadron_collider.html&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God, I can't help it. It's so...beautiful. I don't even care if it destroys the universe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I care a little bit. I've got plans the Friday after they fire it up. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-5776111155222416282?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/5776111155222416282/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=5776111155222416282' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/5776111155222416282'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/5776111155222416282'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2008/08/physics-porn.html' title='physics porn'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-1547441160590961618</id><published>2008-08-01T12:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-01T12:08:03.548-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Two years!</title><content type='html'>Two! Two years...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I freaked out, moved to Portland, went into business with myself, I'm a professional hipster. That's what I did!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-1547441160590961618?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/1547441160590961618/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=1547441160590961618' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/1547441160590961618'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/1547441160590961618'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2008/08/two-years.html' title='Two years!'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-4320071195029622181</id><published>2008-07-10T18:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-10T18:52:02.156-07:00</updated><title type='text'>multiple art-gasms!!</title><content type='html'>And the &lt;a href="http://roqtenth.blogspot.com/"&gt;hits&lt;/a&gt; keep on coming. I'm in a pop surrealistic dreamscape right now! :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-4320071195029622181?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/4320071195029622181/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=4320071195029622181' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/4320071195029622181'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/4320071195029622181'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2008/07/multiple-art-gasms.html' title='multiple art-gasms!!'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-7044349027123027937</id><published>2008-07-09T17:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-09T17:53:48.315-07:00</updated><title type='text'>art-gasm</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.hifructose.com/index.php?option=com_content&amp;amp;task=view&amp;amp;id=149&amp;amp;Itemid=56"&gt;Hi&lt;/a&gt;-&lt;a href="http://www.copronason.com/frucweb/index.html"&gt;Fructose&lt;/a&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This makes me very happy. A ton of my favorite artists are submitting special projects for this 3-year anniversary. Right now, I am essentially rolling around on my little sleeping mat throwing art up in the air like dollar bills on the hotel room bed in Vegas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just a good day. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-7044349027123027937?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/7044349027123027937/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=7044349027123027937' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/7044349027123027937'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/7044349027123027937'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2008/07/art-gasm.html' title='art-gasm'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-6104699433747113961</id><published>2008-06-15T16:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-15T16:25:17.802-07:00</updated><title type='text'>more eye candy</title><content type='html'>The Pop-Surrealistic style (I know that's a bit of a catch-all term these days, but it definitely applies :) of &lt;a href="http://web.mac.com/jancorey1/CARLOS_RAMOS/Photos.html#grid"&gt;Carlos Ramos.&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The photography of &lt;a href="http://www.alexeytitarenko.com/city4.html"&gt;Alexey Titarenko&lt;/a&gt;, particularly the City of Shadows set. Selected prints would happily grace my wall...if only my wallet had the same grace.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-6104699433747113961?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/6104699433747113961/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=6104699433747113961' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/6104699433747113961'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/6104699433747113961'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2008/06/more-eye-candy.html' title='more eye candy'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-6639751881558226116</id><published>2008-06-12T17:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-12T17:59:49.295-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Amy Sol</title><content type='html'>I have blogged about her before, but I have been ogling her latest works and am impressed and moved all over again. Something about her imagination, and the execution of that imagination, simply touches me, every time. Check out the current hangings &lt;a href="http://www.sourharvest.com/thinkspace/2008/karmic/works.php"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;. (ThinkSpace and Roq La Rue rarely disappoint)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-6639751881558226116?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/6639751881558226116/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=6639751881558226116' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/6639751881558226116'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/6639751881558226116'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2008/06/amy-sol.html' title='Amy Sol'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-389663728213024067</id><published>2008-06-08T16:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-08T16:37:06.201-07:00</updated><title type='text'>as we lay dying</title><content type='html'>I was reading the Sunday obituaries today, as I often do. I read them for many reasons, but mostly because it's important to remember. To know what, and whom, has past. I always feel a certain pang when I read, "No services will be held," or when the survived-by list is woefully short. I smile when I see pictures of faces lit up by a life well-lived, or read the accounting of a life that left so much wonder and love in its wake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, I read something that made me stop, and think, more so than usual. At the end of one particular obit, I saw this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Remembrances to the Alzheimer's Association."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The irony is obvious, and the bitter laugh floats underneath. But I feel an anger here, as well. No one should be taken away from you like that. Taken away, but left to you, as well. There is no greater pain than losing a love, then getting it back broken.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate Alzheimer's. With a passion. It's a torment like no other. We will find a way to stop it. We have to. Our memory is the inheritance of our lives. Nothing should be allowed to take that away. Now, only Death ought to have that right...and maybe, eventually, not even that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-389663728213024067?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/389663728213024067/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=389663728213024067' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/389663728213024067'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/389663728213024067'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2008/06/as-we-lay-dying.html' title='as we lay dying'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-8813147224327035050</id><published>2008-06-04T16:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T21:40:12.930-08:00</updated><title type='text'>for remembrance's sake</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_o_Qa6z4ddXg/SEciteGG76I/AAAAAAAAABA/TuZhXI-nZeE/s1600-h/Nubbiest+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 269px; height: 202px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_o_Qa6z4ddXg/SEciteGG76I/AAAAAAAAABA/TuZhXI-nZeE/s200/Nubbiest+2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5208169658645409698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A few weeks ago, I was watching Chasing Amy for the first time in a number of years. Fantastic movie, probably my favorite Kevin Smith flick. In the very early going, there's an exchange that I often missed or overlooked:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fan of the Comic: "It's like Bill and Ted meets...Cheech and Chong!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Holden: "Yeah, I kinda like to think of them as Rosencrantz and Guildenstern meet Vladamir and Estragon."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I first watched the movie, that was something I had to look up. But thanks to one person, I have now read both Waiting For Godot and Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead, multiple times. When I heard that line this time, it made me reflect anew...on many things. And then I remembered this (pictured). It is the only thing this person ever gave to me. The only tangible evidence of their presence in my life. But I'm better for having known this person. New things move within me because of their influence. And for that, I am grateful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do this, in remembrance of her.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-8813147224327035050?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/8813147224327035050/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=8813147224327035050' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/8813147224327035050'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/8813147224327035050'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2008/06/for-remembrances-sake.html' title='for remembrance&apos;s sake'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_o_Qa6z4ddXg/SEciteGG76I/AAAAAAAAABA/TuZhXI-nZeE/s72-c/Nubbiest+2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-6081649047723924646</id><published>2008-06-03T16:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-03T16:13:44.861-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Nothing But Nets</title><content type='html'>http://www.nothingbutnets.net/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a good cause. Spread the word. Get people involved. It's easy, and it makes a difference. It's already catching fire, especially, of all places, among our youth. Anything that can capture the hearts of the young and provoke caring actions, even small ones, is worth it. (note: There are other organizations that work for the same cause. Google will find them for you, if you want to know more. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-6081649047723924646?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/6081649047723924646/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=6081649047723924646' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/6081649047723924646'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/6081649047723924646'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2008/06/nothing-but-nets.html' title='Nothing But Nets'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-6006363373540836716</id><published>2008-06-02T15:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-02T15:21:15.271-07:00</updated><title type='text'>happy birthday to me</title><content type='html'>After a week that had me sleeping about 17 hours from noon Tuesday to 4am Sunday, culminating in a double-shift, I celebrated my birthday by sleeping for about 13 hours. Those hours were a multi-faceted gift, for not only did I benefit from the excellent regenerative properties of sleep, I also benefited from the excellent regenerative properties of dream. In short, that...was awesome. You'd be hard-pressed to find drugs that could equal a trip like that, let alone surpass it (I have pressed hard, though, and found some intriguing competitors, but that's another story for a less...&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;public &lt;/span&gt;time). I spent most of the rest of my b-day working a "tweener" shift (730pm to 330am, not really a swing, not quite a grave...gotta love the newspaper biz). Oh, and I ate toast and watched the latest episode of BSG (Battlestar Galactica, for the uninitiated). And I showered (trust me, an important gift to myself and those around me).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But perhaps the most important aspect of my 31st was this: I spent it alone. My roommate was out of town, enjoying the best that Canada had to offer, so I even had the apartment to myself. It surprised me a little to realize how...perfect, it felt. Right. Of course, I was buoyed by an impressive number of texts, attempted phone calls (being unconscious and working on loud machines tends to inhibit one's ability to converse) and Facebook messages. Two people even sang Happy Birthday to me on my voicemail, which was sweet (you know who you are...thank you :). All in all, my birthday was a reminder of and a dedication to two things:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I am myself.&lt;br /&gt;2. I am not alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What more could one ask for? What more could one want?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-6006363373540836716?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/6006363373540836716/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=6006363373540836716' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/6006363373540836716'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/6006363373540836716'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2008/06/happy-birthday-to-me.html' title='happy birthday to me'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-4019484037709335119</id><published>2008-06-02T14:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-02T15:03:02.802-07:00</updated><title type='text'>bananas!</title><content type='html'>No, please...not my &lt;a href="http://www.the-scientist.com/news/display/54710/"&gt;bananas&lt;/a&gt;!! As long-time reader(s) will know, my obsession (read: love) with bananas is long-standing. Below are some of my old blog posts detailing this love that dare speak its name.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(oh, and there's also &lt;a href="http://www.safebanana.com/"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt;...perfectly legitimate and functional device...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;   &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;munkeys R smrt (and other revelations)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was raised a backwards banana boy, but now I'm   reformed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me clarify this. I have always opened my bananas by the stem, breaking the 'top' of the banana and peeling down. This was just the way it was done. It's the way I was taught, and by god it's the way it SHOULD be done!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, I found out that monkeys (and other banana-eaters of the non-human persuasion) open them from the 'bottom'. "Stoopid munkeys," I said to myself. But a creeping doubt began to settle on me. If there were such a thing as professional banana-openers, monkeys are it...and wouldn't they be uniquely qualified to know? What if they had it right, and what I had known my whole life was wrong? I had to know the truth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, near to trembling, I attempted this method for the first time this morning. Sure enough, the banana yielded with gentle ease to my peeling. And the stem even provided a better handle on the usually-slippery finish. I was floored. It was like a revelation! I had been eating bananas wrong my whole life!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say, my respect for all of monkeykind has increased from its already-giddy height. I have seen the error of my ways, and repent all of my prior banana-sins. Let this story be a beacon to all of you who have always suspected something was fundamentally wrong with your bananaways. See the light.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(In related news, it turns out that the '&lt;st1:state&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;Wash&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:state&gt;, Rinse, Repeat," instructions on shampoo are actually valid. As a test, wash your hair twice next time you're in the shower, but when you wash the first time, only use a very small amount of shampoo...like a dime, depending on how much hair you have...and then use a slightly larger amount on the second. You will notice a difference in how much lather you get, and how clean your head/hair feels. If you already knew this...why didn't you tell me?!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;--------------------------&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;office politics (my food is sacred) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A haiku, to elaborate:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is my butter,&lt;br /&gt;Please do not touch my butter,&lt;br /&gt;Or I will kill you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also adapted it for another food item of mine:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's my banana,&lt;br /&gt;Please don't touch my banana,&lt;br /&gt;Or I will kill you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see what I did there? I used contractions to allow for the extra syllable in 'banana'. Smart, creative AND psychotic...killer combination! :) Beware my food-rage!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(fyi - I put a little extra bailey's in my office coffee today, so I'm feeling a little 'loose'...or tight, as people from The Great Gatsby would have called it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-4019484037709335119?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/4019484037709335119/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=4019484037709335119' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/4019484037709335119'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/4019484037709335119'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2008/06/bananas.html' title='bananas!'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-5581151629531310239</id><published>2008-05-30T16:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-30T17:03:39.687-07:00</updated><title type='text'>trailer trash</title><content type='html'>That's me, today, as I've watched an unholy number of movie trailers. I'm trying to prep for what could be an interesting summer of movies. Feel free to check out the following:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.apple.com/trailers/fox/cityofember/medium.html"&gt;City of Ember&lt;/a&gt;: Yeah, it looks young-adult-y, but it's basically a Steampunk movie. Kinda looks like Bioshock, too. Based on that alone, I want to see it. Wait till you see the pair of rather famous actors that pop up in this trailer, too. Classic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.apple.com/trailers/independent/righteouskill/trailer/"&gt;Righteous&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.apple.com/trailers/independent/righteouskill/trailer2/"&gt;Kill&lt;/a&gt;: This could be devastatingly good. Pacino, DeNiro, duh. But given both of their recent misadventures in cinema (too many to list), I have a Righteous Fear that this movie will fall short of expectation. But the screenwriter is the same guy who wrote Inside Man, which was an excellently conceived and executed film (between that an When The Levees Broke, Spike Lee's renaissance...but I digress). And it just looks so...good. I'm going to have trouble managing my expectations for this one...on second thought, screw it. I want this movie to be that scene in the diner from Heat ("I take scores."), extended to full-length feature film, and I don't care what kind of fall that sets me up for!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The &lt;a href="http://www.apple.com/trailers/wb/thedarkknight/trailer2/"&gt;Dark&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.apple.com/trailers/wb/thedarkknight/trailer3/"&gt;Knight&lt;/a&gt;: How can you not be giddy about this? This could be Ledger's legend-making performance. If this follows the modern trend of comic-movie-sequels being better than the originals (see X-men and Spiderman), this could vault into my Top 20 all-time...but again, I'm NOT going to let my expectations get too far...looks damn good to me, though...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.apple.com/trailers/sony_pictures/hancock/trailer/medium_teaser.html"&gt;Hancock&lt;/a&gt;: Um...not sure what to say about this one. Or how to feel about this one. Looks like campy fun, with some neat effects involving things getting blown to pieces by the mere arrival and presence of Will Smith. In life, he uses his Power of Cool in much the same way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and don't forget to look up trailers for Doomsday (a movie I'd like to watch while drinking copious amounts of beer at a theater pub) and War, Inc. (a movie that makes me want to drink copious amounts of lighter fluid while smoking a cigar...but it might turn out to be really good).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-5581151629531310239?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/5581151629531310239/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=5581151629531310239' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/5581151629531310239'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/5581151629531310239'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2008/05/trailer-trash.html' title='trailer trash'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-1642079715640089661</id><published>2008-05-30T15:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-30T15:07:49.301-07:00</updated><title type='text'>great photoset</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="Architecture%20of%20Authority"&gt;Architecture of Authority&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some excellent art with a well-conceived theme. Very enjoyable.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-1642079715640089661?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/1642079715640089661/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=1642079715640089661' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/1642079715640089661'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/1642079715640089661'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2008/05/great-photoset.html' title='great photoset'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-72409351766306742</id><published>2008-05-17T15:49:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-17T16:18:16.165-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Dancer, final impressions</title><content type='html'>The Dancer was an exhibit exclusive to the Portland Art Museum that just recently ended. I went three times, the last just a few days before it closed. Details &lt;a href="http://portlandartmuseum.org/asp/special_exhibitions/exhibitions.asp?exhibitionID=82"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;. I'm no art historian, nor am I an art critic. but here are a couple of my impressions:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1)Toulouse-Lautrec is incredible, but has lost much of its potency by being replicated on the walls of far too many bars and coffeeshops. Each time, I felt underwhelmed by his work until I stopped and rid myself of all sense of cliche. This is an important ability in the appreciation of much great art and literature. There is so much 'inspiration' (read: flagrant copying) floating around out there. So much of our appreciation is colored by ubiquitousness. It was nice to stop and reflect on a thing without its built-up context. If may may borrow from Choke:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"For one flash, the Mommy had seen the mountain without thinking of logging and ski resorts and avalanches, managed wildlife, plate tectonic geology, micro-climates, rain shadow, or yin-yang locations. She'd seen the mountain without the framework of language. Without the cage of associations. She'd seen it without looking through the lens of everything she knew was true about mountains."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) The skill of Degas was unmatched, but for my part, it was the relevance and the themes of Forain that truly captivated me. Sure, you can see the almost New Yorker-esque political cartoon-y-ness of much of it. But as with Lautrec, there was so much more. The way the dancers seemed to materialize from out of the background, like they were some natural force clothed briefly in flesh, like angels of the imagination. The way their dresses were often like clouds; ephemeral, ethereal. The way the abonne, the patrons, the fans, these men with heavy mustache and hunched spine and sinister top hat...the way they leered over the dancers. The way they were always sketched or painted so darkly, so harshly, when compared to the unbearable lightness and grace of the dancer. The concave versus the convex. The worldly versus the otherworldly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In short, it was wondrous. It stirred in me things both old and stagnant, and new and untouched-'til-now. As all great art should.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-72409351766306742?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/72409351766306742/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=72409351766306742' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/72409351766306742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/72409351766306742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2008/05/dancer-final-impressions.html' title='The Dancer, final impressions'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-2655278433401601398</id><published>2008-05-15T17:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-15T17:37:49.545-07:00</updated><title type='text'>ah, the horo</title><content type='html'>I usually read through the horoscopes in the Willamette Week (one of the, uh, weekly freebie papers here in Portland). I find them entertaining at times, absurdly funny at others, and occasionally informative. This was mine for this week:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Pain is weakness leaving the body," says fitness trainer Mark Duval. If that's true, you have gotten a lot stronger in recent weeks. By my astrological reckoning, you've shed a few months' worth of emotional distress, you've purged a few years worth of frustration, and you've exorcised a couple of lifetimes' worth of confused dreams. Congratulations on the new vitality you've earned through your constructive losses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the context of even my most recent blog post (Going On), this rings true. I did not do everything right, but I did everything that was necessary. Better late than never, as they say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I forgot myself. But I remember now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Now, where was I?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-2655278433401601398?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/2655278433401601398/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=2655278433401601398' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/2655278433401601398'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/2655278433401601398'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2008/05/ah-horo.html' title='ah, the horo'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-4596946479949660430</id><published>2008-05-13T23:31:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-13T23:43:42.120-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Going On</title><content type='html'>On my way home from spending some quality time with a good old friend too-seldom seen, I walked by a 24-hour coffeeshop. On a whim, and for some kind of old-time's sake, I stopped in. Started reading. Listening to some music. Got me thinking about all the things I've wanted to blog, to share, that I haven't been. My time in New Mexico, the desert. My thoughts and ideas of late. The realignment of my life to its purpose. The reawakening of my life to whimsy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently, I came across this &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u_R9fId_Rqo"&gt;video&lt;/a&gt;. The song is called Going On, by Gnarls Barkley. It gives me a kind of profound energy for some reason. And the lyrics...well, the lyrics &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;speak&lt;/span&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ve seen it with my own eyes&lt;br /&gt;How we’re gettin’ otherwise&lt;br /&gt;Without the luxury of leavin’&lt;br /&gt;The touch and feeling of free is&lt;br /&gt;Untangible technically&lt;br /&gt;Something you’ve got to believe in&lt;br /&gt;Connect the cause and effect&lt;br /&gt;One foot in front of the next&lt;br /&gt;This is the start of a journey.&lt;br /&gt;And my mind is already gone&lt;br /&gt;And though there are other unknowns&lt;br /&gt;Somehow this doesn’t concern me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And you can stand right there if you want&lt;br /&gt;But I’m going on&lt;br /&gt;And I’m prepared to go it alone&lt;br /&gt;I’m going on&lt;br /&gt;To a place in the sun that’s nice and warm&lt;br /&gt;I’m going on&lt;br /&gt;And I’m sure they’ll have a place for you too oohoohoo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyone that needs what they want, and doesn’t want what they need&lt;br /&gt;I want nothing to do with&lt;br /&gt;And to do what I want&lt;br /&gt;And to do what I please&lt;br /&gt;Is first of my to-do list&lt;br /&gt;But every once in a while I think about her smile&lt;br /&gt;One of the few things I do miss&lt;br /&gt;But baby I‘ve to go&lt;br /&gt;Baby I’ve got to know&lt;br /&gt;Baby I’ve got to prove it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I’ll see you when you get there&lt;br /&gt;But I’m going on&lt;br /&gt;And I’m prepared to go it alone&lt;br /&gt;I’m going on&lt;br /&gt;May my love lift you up to the place you belong&lt;br /&gt;I’m going on&lt;br /&gt;And I promise I’ll be waiting for you oohoohoo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And to finish it, at the end of the video, the words running past the door to the other world:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't follow me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes...speaks to me on many levels, that does.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-4596946479949660430?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/4596946479949660430/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=4596946479949660430' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/4596946479949660430'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/4596946479949660430'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2008/05/going-on.html' title='Going On'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-1646266799320281074</id><published>2008-05-09T13:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-09T13:30:37.327-07:00</updated><title type='text'>experiencing technical difficulties</title><content type='html'>...among other things, like station identification and the like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please stand by...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...in the meantime, tawk amongst ya'selves. I'll give you a topic: &lt;a href="http://gawker.com/377201/the-dangers-of-being-a-television-news-reporter"&gt;hazard pay&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-1646266799320281074?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/1646266799320281074/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=1646266799320281074' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/1646266799320281074'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/1646266799320281074'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2008/05/experiencing-technical-difficulties.html' title='experiencing technical difficulties'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-6494810562063733895</id><published>2008-05-05T16:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-05T16:41:29.700-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Desert, Part 1 - How It Ends</title><content type='html'>Hold your grandmother's Bible to your breast,&lt;br /&gt;Gonna put it to the test,&lt;br /&gt;You wanted it to be blessed,&lt;br /&gt;And in your heart,&lt;br /&gt;You know it to be true,&lt;br /&gt;You know what you gotta do,&lt;br /&gt;They all depend on you,&lt;br /&gt;And you already know,&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, you already know&lt;br /&gt;How this will end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is no escape,&lt;br /&gt;From the slave-catchers' songs.&lt;br /&gt;For all of the loved ones gone.&lt;br /&gt;Forever's not so long.&lt;br /&gt;And in your soul,&lt;br /&gt;They poked a million holes.&lt;br /&gt;But you never let 'em show.&lt;br /&gt;C'mon it's time to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And&lt;br /&gt;You&lt;br /&gt;Already know,&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, you already know&lt;br /&gt;How this will end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow, Part 2, with stories, reflections, and perhaps even musings. But, you should already know how this will end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-6494810562063733895?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/6494810562063733895/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=6494810562063733895' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/6494810562063733895'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/6494810562063733895'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2008/05/desert-part-1-how-it-ends.html' title='The Desert, Part 1 - How It Ends'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-2859739768663584035</id><published>2008-04-25T16:42:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-25T16:42:57.610-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Old Greg!</title><content type='html'>Taking a few days off from blogging, for myriad reasons. In the meantime, enjoy &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h0S6vL0-u58&amp;amp;feature=related"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt;...I know I did. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-2859739768663584035?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/2859739768663584035/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=2859739768663584035' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/2859739768663584035'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/2859739768663584035'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2008/04/im-old-greg.html' title='I&apos;m Old Greg!'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-8568414621590632943</id><published>2008-04-23T14:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-23T15:01:01.940-07:00</updated><title type='text'>gone</title><content type='html'>My Godfather is dead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Grandmother has outlived one of her children. And she may be losing her Faith. In everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am leaving for New Mexico tomorrow. To see friends. To see family. To see her. To see the sunrise again. To restore the desert to my spirit. To put my shoulder under my grandma's. To see...to see many things, old and new.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I knew he would die today. I saw it. I see too much. It hurts to see. Because how do you show what so often only you can see? How do you share a burden that others cannot feel the weight of?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You don't. You grow stronger.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-8568414621590632943?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/8568414621590632943/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=8568414621590632943' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/8568414621590632943'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/8568414621590632943'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2008/04/gone.html' title='gone'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-201319513774107252</id><published>2008-04-22T15:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-22T16:17:24.047-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Portishead-gasm!</title><content type='html'>I've just absorbed Three, the new album from one of the seminal trip-hop bands. It's their first studio album in &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;eleven years&lt;/span&gt;. And I've gotta tell ya...they haven't missed a beat. This will be in my regular rotation for awhile. If you liked older Portishead, Massive Attack, etc., I highly recommend this one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Man, that made my day. :) Nothing quite like having high expectations met. Speaking of expectations being met or exceeded, Game 1 of the Spurs-Suns 1st round series was in-effing-credible. I was able to watch the fourth quarter and both overtimes at work (I stayed a half-hour late to watch it in the break room). This has been one of the best NBA season in my lifetime, and the 2008 playoffs have been as anticipated as any in memory. And the first game of the first series between these two teams was among the best games I've ever seen. The ceiling for this post-season has officially been removed. To pervert a line from Palahniuk, "On the mountaintop, in the light, what we build could be anything." I doubt he'd appreciate that, what with his obsession with rock-bottom. But I think he, and most everyone, forget the limitless possibilities of rock-top.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of things that make me ecstatic, I'm Not There (the Bob Dylan 'biopic', if you dare to call it that) was incredible. Just a perfect representation of what Dylan means to so many people, maybe even himself included. Cate Blanchett, already on my top five list of favorites actresses, is absolutely stunning. I could not love her more at this point. I also finished Spook Country, which did not disappoint. I love Gibson's tech-savvy and cultural relevance, paired with his minimalistic wit and sharp wordplay. Now my focus shifts to Alfred Bester and The Demolished Man. You can likely find a previous blog post about The Stars My Destination in my archives. Bester is simply one fo the finest science fiction writers ever. Period. Already, TDM has pulled me into its world. Bester just seems to have a passionate, sex-on-the-beach kind of love for words. He just...dances.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel...light. I believe it is because I have gotten stronger. Or perhaps returned to my previous strength. As I always try to remind people who never quite seem to get it, do not let the fact that I carry it well deceive you into believing that the burden is light. I have stumbled, and the weight did show, somewhat. But it only confused people. As the naked truth often does. I always mused that the allegorical Fall from the Garden of Eden, where we gained knowledge of Good and Evil and felt compelled to clothe ourselves...that this was when we started needing the truth to be dressed up for us. Or as Virginia Woolf told me, "...candied over with art."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I'm in too genuinely joyful of a place to be caught up in such musings...at least until it's 3am and I'm at work...silly graveyard shifts. :) I will sign off today with this, my definition:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I learned to walk - since then I have learned to run. I learned to fly - since then I do not need to be pushed to move from my place. Now am I light, now do I fly, now do I see myself beneath myself. Now a god does dance within me."  - The Smirking N.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-201319513774107252?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/201319513774107252/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=201319513774107252' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/201319513774107252'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/201319513774107252'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2008/04/portishead-gasm.html' title='Portishead-gasm!'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-8854744429866369136</id><published>2008-04-21T18:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-21T18:51:08.711-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Persepolis</title><content type='html'>Excellent film. Moving, educational, sharp, creative, funny and relevant. I'd say more, but it doesn't need any garnish from me. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not much else to say today. I'm in the prelude to a beginning, the orchestral tuning stage. But near the end of it. The tapering off of the cacophony, as it eases into the silence before the first swing of the conductor's arm. All is nearly poised. On the brink.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope I am ready.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-8854744429866369136?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/8854744429866369136/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=8854744429866369136' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/8854744429866369136'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/8854744429866369136'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2008/04/persepolis.html' title='Persepolis'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-2994714795144242113</id><published>2008-04-20T12:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-20T13:01:16.667-07:00</updated><title type='text'>close to the vest</title><content type='html'>This quote courtesy of William Gibson, in his book Spook Country:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The holding of knowledge in dignified privacy helps ensure desired results."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As succinctly put as I've ever heard it, and a reminder of a lesson I learned a long long time ago. one that I needed to be reminded of. Sometimes even the purest and simplest of truths can over-complicate an issue. The readiness and skill of the receiver is as important as the willingness and deftness of the giver.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Musings from an aftermath, I suppose.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-2994714795144242113?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/2994714795144242113/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=2994714795144242113' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/2994714795144242113'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/2994714795144242113'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2008/04/close-to-vest.html' title='close to the vest'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-8808065544210779250</id><published>2008-04-19T18:52:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-19T18:59:13.819-07:00</updated><title type='text'>art that helped make my day, etc.</title><content type='html'>Here's some of what I've been looking at today:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://rednosestudio.com/&lt;br /&gt;http://www.zggallery.com/casey_22x30.htm&lt;br /&gt;http://www.hackettfreedman.com/templates/exhibition.jsp?id=213&lt;br /&gt;http://www.keithweesner.com/gallery.html&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enjoyed and appreciated each in different ways. Nothing I went ga-ga over, but just more from the seemingly endless banks of pop-surrealism (with a few other touches thrown in...Pop-Sur is getting stretched to include a LOT of things these days...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Listening and enjoying:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MGMT (still absorbing...and digging)&lt;br /&gt;She &amp;amp; Him (Zooey Deschanel singing Swing Low Sweet Chariot is a new favorite...gets me a little misty :)&lt;br /&gt;The Raconteurs (new album...an improvement over the first, which was underwhelming)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reading and enjoying:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spook Country by William Gibson&lt;br /&gt;The Demolished Man by Alfred Bester&lt;br /&gt;The Internet (oh man...between relevant politics of the national and international variety, continuing leaps in science and technology, and the NBA playoffs, I'm swimming hard to keep up...saying nothing of my artistic and philosophical readings...oui...)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-8808065544210779250?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/8808065544210779250/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=8808065544210779250' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/8808065544210779250'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/8808065544210779250'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2008/04/art-that-helped-make-my-day-etc.html' title='art that helped make my day, etc.'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-509809912613329954</id><published>2008-04-18T16:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-18T16:48:42.649-07:00</updated><title type='text'>group chat</title><content type='html'>So, Gmail has recently implemented a Group Chat feature, allowing you to essentially create a chat room on-the-fly with whomever's online. Just found out about it today. This resulted in two awesome things:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) A "three-way" with my good friends Katy and Traci. Lewd humor, mimosa-talk, etc. It was hilarious and satisfying. I think I'll have more three-ways in the future. I find them easy and agreeable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) A long chat with my Mom and Sister and I. Yes, my mother uses Gmail (thanks to my constant lobbying for a hi-speed connection and for her to get a Gmail account about five minutes after she got the hook-up). We chatted for nearly an hour, all told. We talked about my upcoming visit, and going to NYC and Philly while I'm in the neighborhood. We talked about my sister moving to Portland, which is now almost a certainty (YAY!). We talked about my Mom's future after both my sister and I live far away from her (a subject we've talked a great deal about, because we love our Mom and want to make damn sure she finds identity and happiness without us...but that's another post for another time). My mother used the word "absofuckinglutely"...I nearly fell off my stool. My sister and I talked music. It was fantastic. Family moments. I love them, more and more everyday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, group chatting definitely lifted my day, as did the accomplishing of a number of errands, sleeping twelve hours last night (I NEEDED that), and listening to great music in my coffeehouse, reading and writing and doing Kevin-y things. In six days, I'll be in New Mexico. if all goes as I think it will, it will be the completion of my Restoration. I have literally not been my Self for about 6 months. When I get back from NM, I think I'll tell that whole story. Everything that happened. All the Old trying to steal away my New. I think I'll be ready.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my weakness, in my strife, I am indeed over-matched. But at my best and brightest, I know I am up to all the challenges and pitfalls and struggles and trials of life. At my best, I know I can handle everything. And I know that my best is yet to come.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To resurrect an old favorite, "The Sleeper must awaken."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-509809912613329954?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/509809912613329954/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=509809912613329954' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/509809912613329954'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/509809912613329954'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2008/04/group-chat.html' title='group chat'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-6330055297307821846</id><published>2008-04-17T19:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-17T19:50:30.173-07:00</updated><title type='text'>no country for this man</title><content type='html'>I'm so tired right now, in so many different ways...so filled with so many things, that I just can't write today. About anything. So much is happening and has happened, I've got so much on my mind and on my heart...so much loss...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel over-matched. But I don't have the luxury of retiring. And there's no one riding on ahead with flame in a horn, goin' up into that mountain to find a place to build a fire out there in all that cold and all that dark.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I'm pushing my chips in. I'm saying okay...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...I'll be part of this world.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-6330055297307821846?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/6330055297307821846/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=6330055297307821846' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/6330055297307821846'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/6330055297307821846'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2008/04/no-country-for-this-man.html' title='no country for this man'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-2970022669895408661</id><published>2008-04-16T17:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-16T17:57:43.701-07:00</updated><title type='text'>full moon fever</title><content type='html'>So...um...Sunday is April 20th. In the common notation, it is 4-20. Four-twenty. On Sunday. The Lord's day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also of note...Sunday (the aforementioned 20th day of the 4th month in the year of our Lord 2008) is a full moon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know about you, but I'm excited...and more than a little frightened.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-2970022669895408661?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/2970022669895408661/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=2970022669895408661' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/2970022669895408661'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/2970022669895408661'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2008/04/full-moon-fever.html' title='full moon fever'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-3039352691394821128</id><published>2008-04-15T15:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-15T15:46:27.707-07:00</updated><title type='text'>cash flowing with the Tao</title><content type='html'>You might characterize many of my activities this year as belonging to the Putting My Affairs In Order category. Gathering all the various threads that I've spun out and doing as much cutting and weaving and trimming and stitching as is necessary to make something wearable, so to speak (I like me them metaphors...). One sub-category of that has been, inevitably, Money. It shares much in common with most of the other branches in that there has been more going out than has been coming in. So it goes. One possibly ironic but definitely odd and maybe even cool result of this is that I've somehow taken to carrying around all of my pertinent bills inside of my copy of Lao Tzu's Tao Te Ching. I suspect that layer upon layer of meaning are carried within that simple fact. It just happened to be what I was reading when I decided to get serious about all this thread-weaving clothes-making nonsense&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I find it somewhat amusing. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a musical note (har har), give Bat For Lashes a listen. Their album Fur And Gold has been getting some serious airtime for me. A little bit of a Tori Amos meets Bjork feel to them, although that might be misleading (or off-putting). Just trust me, and give them a listen. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In movies, I just recently watched Shortbus. I will say nothing here about it, except that I am deliberating putting it on my Movie Everyone Should Watch list. It's a simple, small movie about people in the city (NYC in this one, as is often the case) trying to figure themselves out. Sounds boring and formulaic, but it is very, very moving, sometimes in surprising ways. I found myself laughing out loud, then moments later tearing up. That thin, diaphanous line between laughter and tears has seldom been so elegantly captured for me as it is in this movie. For that alone, it is worth the watch. if you've seen it, or watch it soon, let me know. I'd love your thoughts and feelings on it. (important note - you will discover as you look this movie up, it is completely uncensored. Com-Plete-Ly...not for the faint-of-heart or the closed-of-mind) (non-important note - though I said that I wouldn't say anything about it to start this paragraph, I went ahead and said something about it...this happens with me from time to time...and from 'time to time', I mean 'twice a day'...)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-3039352691394821128?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/3039352691394821128/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=3039352691394821128' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/3039352691394821128'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/3039352691394821128'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2008/04/cash-flowing-with-tao.html' title='cash flowing with the Tao'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-6617497627572138986</id><published>2008-04-14T20:48:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-14T21:18:29.944-07:00</updated><title type='text'>fair and balanced</title><content type='html'>I liked &lt;a href="http://www.markdery.com/archives/blog/rant/index.html#000077"&gt;this blog post&lt;/a&gt; I read today (via BoingBoing). It throws some much-needed counterweight in the raging battle between atheism and christianity. It carries a little extra weight in that it comes from within the atheistic/Enlightenment movement. All too easily, one fundamentalism leads to another. We must remember to be vigilant against the pitfalls of extremism.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On some personal notes: 1) Finally finished 100 Years of Solitude today. Up to now, I'd only been reading it at work (I have work books, coffee shop books, in-bed books, etc...like to mix it up). I made an exception today to finish this tale. It was much needed for me. I may share more thoughts from it as time passes. Needless to say, the pitfalls and attractions of solitude are at the fore of my heart now, in the face of the so-far-fruits of 2008.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) I'm preparing for my first return trip to New Mexico in many ways. One of them is a fast. It'll be a shorty (5-7 days), but it is needed. I've been riding my bike a lot (especially as the weather turns springy) and running a little bit. Also been trying to exercise more deliberately and run through some old forms. Preliminary results are promising. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) Still simmering those thoughts and feelings I mentioned on Friday (a few posts ago). The truth always reveals itself to the patient and the persistent. Also, as GWC once said, everything will give up its secrets if you love it enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4) Don't want to jinx it, but I've got quite a run of blog posts going. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-6617497627572138986?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/6617497627572138986/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=6617497627572138986' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/6617497627572138986'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/6617497627572138986'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2008/04/fair-and-balanced.html' title='fair and balanced'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-4692647138897657844</id><published>2008-04-13T17:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-13T18:22:43.810-07:00</updated><title type='text'>in my country...</title><content type='html'>...these words ignite a firestorm of political controversy:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It's not surprising, then, they get bitter, they cling to guns or religion or antipathy to people who aren't like them or anti-immigrant sentiment or anti-trade sentiment as a way to explain their frustrations."  - Barack Obama, on the campaign trail&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some context: This was spoken at a San Francisco fund-raiser, in an attempt to explain why people's economic frustrations have resulted in his difficulty getting the some of the working-class vote, especially in small town America.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Politicians and pundits Left and Right are roasting him for saying this. People are offended, upset, appalled, aghast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Explain to me how a word he said is not true. An uncomfortable truth, but a poignant one. Explain to me how speaking a clear and present truth about a specific and highly relevant issue could cause all this trou...oh, wait, I forgot two things: the nature of this country, and the nature of its people (maybe all people, but my experience lies primarily within the continental US, so I'll  stick with that). On both the larger societal scale, and on the scale of the individual, if the truth is not delivered in the most perfect, emotionally and intellectually non-offensive way, it is rejected outright, along with the messenger. And on both a societal and personal scale, I am sick and tired of this. Frustrated how people are more concerned with what the truth is dressed up as and not so much what's underneath. The well-dressed lie gets the glory, while the shabby simple truth begs for coins on the corner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And you know what? Maybe his statement isn't the whole truth...actually, it most certainly is NOT the whole truth. There are more factors at play, I think. However, rather than attempt to see the point and begin to discern the truth, we either lash out or run away. I wonder how many swing voters Obama will lose because of this. If it's as many friends as I've lost under similar circumstances, I fear for his candidacy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, here's a piece of his response:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"If I worded things in a way that made people offended, I deeply regret that."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Couldn't have said it better myself. Note, he does not regret making the point, he regrets that his delivery offended. My respect for this man rose a full notch after I read that. We'll have to see if any back-pedaling occurs in the face of Party pressure. It may. He has a campaign to run. But for my part, I feel the same about this country. I feel the same about most people. The people who lead us must not be afraid to offend us. Same with the people who love us. More and more, I'm seeing the full truth of that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some parts of this country are worth fighting for, though, just like some people are worth fighting for. I'm learning more about picking the right battles and the right people to fight them with. I'll learn even more from this man and this experience of his.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is still my country. These are still my people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not done.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-4692647138897657844?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/4692647138897657844/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=4692647138897657844' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/4692647138897657844'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/4692647138897657844'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2008/04/in-my-country.html' title='in my country...'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-2505170809342352841</id><published>2008-04-12T13:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-12T13:55:53.689-07:00</updated><title type='text'>the illusion of safety</title><content type='html'>In our current times, there is a movement towards protecting ourselves from everything. Airport security, foreign policy, subtle and not-so-subtle racism, etc. One of the arenas in which this is in danger of becoming crippling is in the care of our children. It seems that, in an effort to protect them from things that make US afraid (note- not THEM...keep in mind whose fears we're dealing with here, regardless of their basis in fact), we are insulating them from life itself. This has bothered me about most parenting for some time now. I don't have kids, which for some of you will allow for the easy negation of my opinion. However, &lt;a href="http://freerangekids.wordpress.com/"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt; woman is one of my new heroes. I'll let her speak for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let people, children included, live. Even if it kills them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-2505170809342352841?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/2505170809342352841/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=2505170809342352841' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/2505170809342352841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/2505170809342352841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2008/04/illusion-of-safety.html' title='the illusion of safety'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-6148772510247598898</id><published>2008-04-11T14:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-12T02:01:30.856-07:00</updated><title type='text'>in the stead of...</title><content type='html'>I had something more personal and serious in mind to post today, but I ran out of time before work. Also, I think I'll let the weekend work its magic on my mind and heart. Do some thinking and writing and dreaming. Instead, a friend of mine pointed me to this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.apple.com/trailers/independent/thefall/trailer/"&gt;The Fall&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My first impression? And I quote, "&lt;span id="1eog"&gt;It's like The Adventures of Baron Munchausen meets The Princess Bride meets The Cell!!" If that, and a viewing of the trailer above, doesn't excite you, I declare you dead and useless to society. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-6148772510247598898?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/6148772510247598898/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=6148772510247598898' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/6148772510247598898'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/6148772510247598898'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2008/04/in-stead-of.html' title='in the stead of...'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-3200183298191432550</id><published>2008-04-10T15:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-10T15:14:19.368-07:00</updated><title type='text'>prepare to lose the rest of your work day</title><content type='html'>http://www.nerve.com/dispatches/nerveeditors/50GreatestComedySketches/01/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Watch them all, or just the ones you've never seen. I think I'll be using this as mood medication for the next week...at least... :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-3200183298191432550?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/3200183298191432550/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=3200183298191432550' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/3200183298191432550'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/3200183298191432550'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2008/04/prepare-to-lose-rest-of-your-work-day.html' title='prepare to lose the rest of your work day'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-3157659425259739377</id><published>2008-04-09T16:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-09T17:05:38.242-07:00</updated><title type='text'>that hulu that you do</title><content type='html'>My new favorite internet site:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.hulu.com/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Explore. Enjoy. Especially check out the SNL clips. It's the best way to catch the show's renaissance without having to waste an hour-and-a-half on a Saturday night. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and...in the key of Malkovich...&lt;a href="http://www.hulu.com/watch/16389/saturday-night-live-meet-the-family#x-4,vclip,1"&gt;WalkenWalken&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-3157659425259739377?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/3157659425259739377/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=3157659425259739377' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/3157659425259739377'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/3157659425259739377'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2008/04/that-hulu-that-you-do.html' title='that hulu that you do'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-4567447048987736320</id><published>2008-04-08T18:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-08T19:09:59.084-07:00</updated><title type='text'>life in the graveyard</title><content type='html'>First, there's &lt;a href="http://tale-of-tales.com/TheGraveyard/"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt;. Intriguing concept. And as someone who would go to the graveyard to walk and think, as someone who found it to be a place of solace, I thoroughly enjoyed this walk through an old life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, last night, working the grave, I discovered that 5 1/2 laps around the inside of my warehouse is one mile. I ran about 15 of them. Burn baby burn. More to follow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In addition, my godfather is back in his deathbed, after a brief and falsely-encouraging recovery. My grandmother is with him now. I will be with her soon. Blood calls blood, as they say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And finally, some things are being buried (the dead, the DOA, the put-down), and others are being unearthed (volunteer work, running, desert memories, meditation and dream). April, as expected, is turning things in a new and needed direction. Sacrifices abound, but so it goes. So it always goes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Post-finally: One Hundred Years of Solitude is an incredible book, and perfectly-timed for me, now. If I can, I will write a distillation when I'm done.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-4567447048987736320?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/4567447048987736320/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=4567447048987736320' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/4567447048987736320'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/4567447048987736320'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2008/04/life-in-graveyard.html' title='life in the graveyard'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-5727310864002820409</id><published>2008-04-07T17:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-07T17:08:34.381-07:00</updated><title type='text'>eye of the Tiger (so to speak)</title><content type='html'>Most everyone who comes across this blog isn't really much of a sports fan. I recently posted something that partially explained why I remain, at heart, an incredible sports nut. In that vein, I want to share with any and all of you this video of a recent interview with Tiger Woods. It's only a half-hour long, and it's worth the time. The more you know, the more you'll understand, but even knowing very little, there is much to be seen and heard in this interview with one of the most dominating sports figures in modern history. &lt;a href="http://sports.espn.go.com/broadband/video/videopage?&amp;amp;brand=null&amp;amp;videoId=3331650&amp;amp;n8pe6c=2"&gt;Enjoy&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-5727310864002820409?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/5727310864002820409/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=5727310864002820409' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/5727310864002820409'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/5727310864002820409'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2008/04/eye-of-tiger-so-to-speak.html' title='eye of the Tiger (so to speak)'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-2948155336349582268</id><published>2008-04-06T18:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-06T19:01:05.599-07:00</updated><title type='text'>a pact</title><content type='html'>"The secret of a good old age is simply an honorable pact with solitude." Gabriel Garcia Marquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let negotiations recommence.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-2948155336349582268?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/2948155336349582268/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=2948155336349582268' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/2948155336349582268'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/2948155336349582268'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2008/04/pact.html' title='a pact'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-2348808076487497925</id><published>2008-04-02T14:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-02T14:28:59.593-07:00</updated><title type='text'>double feature, emerging theme</title><content type='html'>Decided to play some movie catch up last night. Watched 3:10 To Yuma and American Gangster. Both great movies. I have to agree with what I've heard about Yuma, that it's the best Western since Unforgiven, although there are a few challengers to that assertion. Gangster was a little fractured, but that probably has to do with the 'based on a true story' bit. That always tends to trap the filmmakers into trying to tell too much of the story. Real stories, and the full truth of their context, always take more than two hours and some clever story-telling (of course, most people I know do this all the time with themselves, but I digress...).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The emerging theme is...well, it should be disturbing, but, to borrow a line from The Boondock Saints, I'm strangely comfortable with it. The villains I come across lately, in movies, books, in life...I am identifying with them. Anton Chigurh, Daniel Plainview, Frank Lucas, Ben Wade, to name only four recent cinematically-encountered gentlemen. I get them. I relate to them. I often end up pulling for them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, my inner-villain is getting a lot of positive attention, and my inner-hero is leaking faith. And I know I should be more worried about this. But I'm not. Time was, I used to play a pretty convincing Bad Guy. And if I'm going to get all the consequences of being the bad guy, and all the baggage of being the good guy, I gotta ask myself one question (this time borrowing from The Departed):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's the difference?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-2348808076487497925?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/2348808076487497925/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=2348808076487497925' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/2348808076487497925'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/2348808076487497925'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2008/04/double-feature-emerging-theme.html' title='double feature, emerging theme'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-2268219410353816590</id><published>2008-03-30T18:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-30T18:32:17.478-07:00</updated><title type='text'>a warning</title><content type='html'>Treat me like a curiosity, and I will treat you like a cat.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-2268219410353816590?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/2268219410353816590/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=2268219410353816590' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/2268219410353816590'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/2268219410353816590'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2008/03/warning.html' title='a warning'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-9009140760514471228</id><published>2008-03-29T15:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-29T16:35:44.083-07:00</updated><title type='text'>coming at it sideways, but coming at it clean</title><content type='html'>Up until today, I have never read Plato's Allegory of the Cave. In fact, I have read very little philosophy at all. And though thinkers like Nietzsche (and some of his evil friends) always seem to be waiting around corners for me (not unlike a stalking butler, who upon the finger rests...but I digress...), I continue to preserve within myself a certain naivety of the mind. But recently, as I was discussing the nature of Self with one of my more intelligent (emotionally as well as intellectually; an important distinction) friends, she asked me if I had ever read the Allegory of the Cave. She asked it expectantly, certain that I had, since apparently I was sounding a lot like it at the moment. When I said that I had not, she was mildly-to-moderately shocked and instructed me to read it immediately (but not before giving me a brief synopsis to explain why). Being the dutiful friend, I did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to say, I'm glad I waited. There's a potency to knowing that I can come upon such thoughts on my own (as much as anyone ever comes across ANYthing on their own...we are emergent entities, after all...but again, I digress...). In any case, I have been Mirror and Shadow for years now. The name and the concept have many meanings for me, but it is essentially how I interact with my world and its people. Reading this Allegory reminded me why I chose that, how I discovered it for myself, why it's so important to me. It also reminded me of a bible verse, and my favorite translation of it, courtesy of Cipriano de Valera, by way of Borges:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Now we see in a mirror, in darkness; but later we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; but later I shall know as I am known."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope so. I really do. Because until then, I'll be mastering the mirror and stalking the shadow...and that's a hard and lonesome road.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-9009140760514471228?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/9009140760514471228/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=9009140760514471228' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/9009140760514471228'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/9009140760514471228'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2008/03/coming-at-it-sideways-but-coming-at-it.html' title='coming at it sideways, but coming at it clean'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-9126284224954428008</id><published>2008-03-28T17:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-28T18:07:22.464-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Anger</title><content type='html'>Fourteen years. Since I first heard this song. Fourteen years. Since my scream was given a voice. Fourteen years. And still, it resonates. Fourteen years. And the Abyss is the only one with the guts to stare back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ruiner&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you had all of them on your side,&lt;br /&gt;didn't you?&lt;br /&gt;didn't you?&lt;br /&gt;you believed in all your lies,&lt;br /&gt;didn't you?&lt;br /&gt;didn't you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the ruiner's got a lot to prove he's got nothing to lose and now he made you believe,&lt;br /&gt;the ruiner's your only friend well he's the living end to the cattle he deceives,&lt;br /&gt;the raping of the innocent you know the ruiner ruins everything he sees,&lt;br /&gt;now the only pure thing left in my fucking world is wearing your disease.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;how did you get so big?&lt;br /&gt;how did you get so strong?&lt;br /&gt;how did you get so hard?&lt;br /&gt;how did it get so long?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you had to give them all a sign,&lt;br /&gt;didn't you?&lt;br /&gt;didn't you?&lt;br /&gt;you had to covet what was mine,&lt;br /&gt;didn't you?&lt;br /&gt;didn't you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the ruiner's a collector he's an infector serving his shit to his flies,&lt;br /&gt;maybe there will come a day when those that you keep blind will suddenly realize,&lt;br /&gt;maybe it's a part of me you took to a place I hoped it would never go,&lt;br /&gt;and maybe that fucked me up much more than you'll ever know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;how did you get so big?&lt;br /&gt;how did you get so strong?&lt;br /&gt;how did you get so hard?&lt;br /&gt;how did it get so long?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what you gave to me,&lt;br /&gt;my perfect ring of scars,&lt;br /&gt;you know I can see,&lt;br /&gt;what you really are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you didn't hurt me,&lt;br /&gt;nothing can hurt me,&lt;br /&gt;you didn't hurt me,&lt;br /&gt;nothing can stop me now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fourteen years. And what does that tell me about these...people?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-9126284224954428008?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/9126284224954428008/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=9126284224954428008' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/9126284224954428008'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/9126284224954428008'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2008/03/anger.html' title='Anger'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-5075717926905402249</id><published>2008-03-25T17:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-25T17:55:34.446-07:00</updated><title type='text'>two to ponder</title><content type='html'>From the last 24 hours of my mind:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Compassion without understanding is merely pity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The destiny of all obsession, left to itself, is routine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could elaborate on this, but I'd rather meditate on this.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-5075717926905402249?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/5075717926905402249/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=5075717926905402249' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/5075717926905402249'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/5075717926905402249'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2008/03/two-to-ponder.html' title='two to ponder'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-8293788188562011617</id><published>2008-03-25T14:03:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-25T14:33:12.297-07:00</updated><title type='text'>laundry day</title><content type='html'>One of my many oddities:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I do laundry, I often wear my nicest clothes. Slacks, nice shirts, semi-fancy shoes. This is because on most days, I'm wearing jeans, steel-toed boots and a t-shirt or a relaxed button-down that's a little wrinkly. But I still have nice and semi-nice clothes from when I was an upstanding citizen of the white-ish collar world (I was more of an egg-shell collar, not entirely white). Also of note is the fact that most of that clothing is from a time when I weighed at least 250lbs. Some of it is from when I weighed in at a mighty 300lbs. So, needless to say, these are baggy, shapeless affairs. I have been attempting a wardrobe update, but it is slow going.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, today, I am looking positively yuppie. I can walk through downtown Portland with my head held high, knowing I look like I belong there. But my secret smile is in knowing that I'm an agent, a plant, a rogue hiding in plain sight. But an agent for whom? That has yet to be determined, I think. Perhaps I am ronin. Sword for sale. Hmm, yes, I like that. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...then there are the days I wear a cheap robe, a t-shirt, and boxers. Those are either the really really good days, or the really really bad days.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-8293788188562011617?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/8293788188562011617/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=8293788188562011617' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/8293788188562011617'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/8293788188562011617'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2008/03/laundry-day.html' title='laundry day'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-4580461782860002246</id><published>2008-03-22T13:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-22T13:32:20.692-07:00</updated><title type='text'>pace...lagging...must...rally...</title><content type='html'>Oui, I'm finding my usual Achilles Heel with yet another consistent-blogging initiative: I always feel the need to say something or share something that's, if not profound in someway, at the least difficult for me to share. I need to stop putting so much pressure on myself (yes, I AM aware of that particular aspect of myself :). So, at the moment, I'll simply share that I tossed and turned all night and got worse-than-no sleep. I drifted off far enough to dream disconcerting and highly uncomfortable dreams. The whole point of even going home last night was so that I could rest up for work at 630am this morning. I daresay, I would have been better off...MUCH better off, I think...going elsewhere. Although, I find that these things, when I trust my gut and my heart and my head (working as a team), often work out the way they ought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I'm tired. But I'm soldering through. And not just because I have promises to keep...which I always do. Good things are ahead. I got out of work a little early. I'm showered. I'm fed. I'm caffeinated. I have the new Cat Power in my ears, and she is wonderful (current track: Metal Heart).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I worked this morning, but that was before. I work again tonight, but that's later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-4580461782860002246?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/4580461782860002246/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=4580461782860002246' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/4580461782860002246'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/4580461782860002246'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2008/03/pacelaggingmustrally.html' title='pace...lagging...must...rally...'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-3821343686763011171</id><published>2008-03-20T18:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-20T18:59:01.604-07:00</updated><title type='text'>franken-poetry</title><content type='html'>Stitched together from the dead:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes&lt;br /&gt;I am overwhelmed&lt;br /&gt;By all the things&lt;br /&gt;I('d)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ought to do&lt;br /&gt;Need to do&lt;br /&gt;Want to do&lt;br /&gt;Love to do&lt;br /&gt;Better do&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This abundance&lt;br /&gt;of life&lt;br /&gt;Brings a death&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like coma&lt;br /&gt;Like paralysis&lt;br /&gt;Like sleeping in the snow&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This faux-plenty&lt;br /&gt;This false harvest&lt;br /&gt;This empty bounty&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am spent&lt;br /&gt;On the worthless&lt;br /&gt;And left too poor&lt;br /&gt;For the free&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-3821343686763011171?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/3821343686763011171/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=3821343686763011171' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/3821343686763011171'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/3821343686763011171'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2008/03/franken-poetry.html' title='franken-poetry'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-4325688464675911746</id><published>2008-03-17T14:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-17T15:53:31.396-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Wristcutters - A Love Story</title><content type='html'>Great little flick. Patrick Fugit (kid from Almost Famous) and his huMONGous head star alongside Shannyn Sossamon's intimidatingly large yet strangely inviting mouth (her and Claire Danes need to have a mouth-off...I think the/my world might crack in two...but that's another blog for another time...). Tom Waits even makes an appearance...essentially as Tom Waits. And there's a Russian with a fantastic porn-stache, with sideburns to match. Hmm...there are a number of things about this small movie that are quite over-sized. Interesting. Anyway, it's actually a quite touching, quirky little movie. Almost wistful. I recommend.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-4325688464675911746?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/4325688464675911746/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=4325688464675911746' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/4325688464675911746'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/4325688464675911746'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2008/03/wristcutters-love-story.html' title='Wristcutters - A Love Story'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-907145500862155652</id><published>2008-03-14T13:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-14T13:51:25.807-07:00</updated><title type='text'>lessons from Nolan</title><content type='html'>Christopher Nolan is among my favorite moviemakers. Granted, he tends to make the same movie over and over again (not really, but Michael Caine/Christian Bale notwithstanding, each of his films sound and look very similar...which is a good thing, in my book). But if you're making a good product and delivering consistently profound messages, why mess with it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I've recently re-watched all of his movies, from Following all the way up to Batman Begins and The Prestige (I never saw Doodlebug, which was the year before Following, so I'm not counting that one :). Each of his movies contain messages that speak near to the ear of my heart. Memento is the captain of this crew for me, but each contributes to my understanding of the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are you watching closely?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We all need mirrors to remind ourselves who we are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The training is nothing, the will is everything; the will to act.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You take it away...to show them what they had.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last one I watched was Insomnia, a flick that often slips through the cracks of most people's remembrance. I won't bother with a synopsis or a review here. Suffice it to say, if you like Christopher Nolan movies, you will like this. What I wish to speak of here is the second-to-last line uttered by the main character. The last line is a plea, "Let me sleep...just, let me sleep." That has its own meaning for me, one that extends deeply back into my youth. The next-to-last line is, really, the point of the entire film; it is the reason for the plot, for the actions of all the characters...everything. It is an edict, a creed, a warning, an admonition, a whisper, a wail, a confession, a teardrop. It spoke to me then, and it speaks to me now, perhaps just as strongly. As I have been forced to come to grips with the aftermath of spending myself in ventures without returns, closeness revealed as far-away, sweetness turned to bitter pills, warmth turned to fever-chills, honesty turned to truth twisted to reality left like the wrong kind of alone...this message rings true again. Like a bell. Like a closed circle. Like a promise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't lose your way.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-907145500862155652?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/907145500862155652/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=907145500862155652' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/907145500862155652'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/907145500862155652'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2008/03/lessons-from-nolan.html' title='lessons from Nolan'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-8547398115115801021</id><published>2008-03-13T16:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-13T17:00:29.476-07:00</updated><title type='text'>back home...?</title><content type='html'>In a little more than a month, I'll be heading back to New Mexico for the first tim since leaving. Get to see my close friends and family. Get to kick my grandma's ass at rummy and Scrabble (if I can convince her to play me :). Get to see the sky and the mountains and the desert again. Familiar steps in familiar places.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Part of me wants to head up into the mountains and disappear for a spell...maybe a long spell. A solitary hermitage is sounding better and better everyday. Despite my near inability to grow a beard, I think I could pull it off. Perhaps I'll just slip into the Sangre de Cristos and find that old monastery. I could use a slice of that kind of peace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spent eleven years in NM. I moved around a lot during my childhood, but I was born and essentially raised in New Jersey. However, New Mexico feels more like home to me, as much as a place ever can. Home is where the heart is, as they say, and my heart is with the people I love. But lately I've been feeling more than a little homeless. A dangerous drifter. Maybe NM will help with that. See what some of that desert dust on my boots will do for my stride.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-8547398115115801021?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/8547398115115801021/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=8547398115115801021' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/8547398115115801021'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/8547398115115801021'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2008/03/back-home.html' title='back home...?'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-8539068459573881847</id><published>2008-03-10T18:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-10T18:48:37.302-07:00</updated><title type='text'>goodbye</title><content type='html'>Goodbyes are important. How one ends something is as important as how one starts it. Goodbyes are one of human kinds last great sharings, one of those special gifts we give to one another. The sharpness of our hearts. The sweet ache. The last look; taking the final picture (a la Before Sunrise). The effect of gravity, suspended from the waist up until the parting is done; light head, plummeting stomach, heavy heart desperate to drop ballast. So much fertile heart-soil is tilled in the well-done Goodbye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Goodbyes are a lost art.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just had a goodbye snaked out from under me by crowded circumstance. A good friend is gone, possibly never to be seen by me again. The departure had been planned for awhile, but the chance to say goodbye slipped right through our fingers. I was one thing that just got put off a little bit too far. I won't lie; it hurt. That the circumstance were a product of stress and busyness and all manner of things is understandable. Still...it hurts. But, there's nothing to be done now. We will stay in touch, I hope, and perhaps have an opportunity to say Hello again. I will miss her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This echoes another recent situation in my life, one where a goodbye was never uttered, where I was not shown the simple kindness of a proper ending (cordial or not). That still hurts, but no surprise there. Hard not to think about it often, even now. So it goes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've had enough leaving in my life. Can I at least be left properly? I don't think I'm asking a lot. Just shut the door on your way out. Did you grow up in a barn or something? Kids these days, I swear. No manners. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-8539068459573881847?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/8539068459573881847/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=8539068459573881847' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/8539068459573881847'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/8539068459573881847'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2008/03/goodbye.html' title='goodbye'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-1397965988856185815</id><published>2008-03-07T12:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-07T12:35:43.456-08:00</updated><title type='text'>doing lines</title><content type='html'>For the unreasonable man awakening within me:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The reasonable man adapts himself to the conditions that surround him...the unreasonable man adapts the surrounding conditions to himself. All progress depends on the unreasonable man." - George Bernard Shaw&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;----------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For a friend, now; for myself, always:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"When my love swears that she is made of truth, I do believe her, though I know she lies."  - Shakespeare&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;----------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For those who wonder sometimes how I think:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"For the cunning, to face an enemy in open confrontation would be a fourth rate solution for someone who has already made three serious mistakes: Not knowing the territory, not moving about in secrecy, and not evading a direct attack. It is only when all your strategies and tactics have failed, that you resort to ripping someone’s head off."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;----------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because I cannot be stopped:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stop my heart, and my brain will start to beat,&lt;br /&gt;And if you burn my brain with fire,&lt;br /&gt;I'll feel you burn in every drop of my blood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Rilke, II, 7&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-1397965988856185815?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/1397965988856185815/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=1397965988856185815' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/1397965988856185815'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/1397965988856185815'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2008/03/doing-lines.html' title='doing lines'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-3854779817914118405</id><published>2008-03-06T17:46:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-06T17:50:00.772-08:00</updated><title type='text'>two days in the valley...</title><content type='html'>...of the shadow of death. The fever is broken, I think (puddle of sweat, drenched t-shirt and sheets...I hope that about takes care of that). Gotta work tonight, but I think that'll be fine. The fever dreams were downright spiritual. Some insights to be found there, but I need to get my mind right before I revisit them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps I'll blog about them. Trust me, it'll trip you out, man. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be back strong soon, with my promised regularity of posting. Be well, all. I will be.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-3854779817914118405?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/3854779817914118405/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=3854779817914118405' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/3854779817914118405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/3854779817914118405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2008/03/two-days-in-valley.html' title='two days in the valley...'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-1812900737713930102</id><published>2008-03-04T16:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-04T16:30:34.813-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I got a feva!</title><content type='html'>And the only prescription...is one of the following things:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) More Cowbell&lt;br /&gt;2) Hot Toddys&lt;br /&gt;3)The singing nurse from Ferris Bueller's Day Off: "I heard that you were feeling ill. Headache, fever, and a chill. I came to help restore your pluck, cause I'm the nurse who likes to..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm...on second thought, perhaps I'll try rest and fluids. I'm currently logging a 101.5 on the temperature dial, with all the accompanying aches and pains and chills and throbbing temples and disgusting nose and lung issues. I DID just kick ass in four-player Scrabble, and I'm going out for some good company and one or two of the aforementioned whiskey-based remedies. But the kicker is that I have to work tonight. Easy enough shift, but graveyards when you have the flu can be rather difficult, especially since I'm a bike commuter. Ugh. Not looking forward to the ride home at 7am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other than that, I'm doing pretty great. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-1812900737713930102?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/1812900737713930102/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=1812900737713930102' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/1812900737713930102'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/1812900737713930102'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2008/03/i-got-feva.html' title='I got a feva!'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-3385803755277319250</id><published>2008-02-29T13:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-29T13:28:02.537-08:00</updated><title type='text'>arrivals and departures</title><content type='html'>The theme of this year so far seems to be just that. Different people weaving their way into and out of my life. Some long trips taken, now returning. Some trips of my own in the works. Seeing someone every day for a week and then not at all for the next. The salad of my social life is feeling very tossed. And soon, there will be more partings, things a little more permanent. By the time March is come and gone, many of my life's players will be gone in one way or another. It can be amazing to see all the creative ways life has for people to leave. It has just as many ways for people to arrive, of course...but precious few ways to have people stay. I think that's why Staying is so important to me. Comings and goings are simple and readily available. People do it as easy as breathing. They step into and out of your life, eyes pointed ahead or turned inward, ready to move on. More than a little viral. But few people know how to Stay, or know the worth of trying. I've seen enough in my life to not merely cope with these "ins and outs", but to cherish them. Everything born is meant to die, everything started is meant to end. I get that, and most of the time I rejoice in it. But there has been too much departure in my life lately. I'm left looking at this long line of leavers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that makes it even more important that I make sure I know how to Stay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(please note - This is about far more than physical leavetakings, this is about all the ways that people Leave, and the necessity of Stay. A common theme for me... :) See Still Life with Woodpecker or A Guide To Recognizing Your Saints, among other works, for extended details...)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-3385803755277319250?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/3385803755277319250/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=3385803755277319250' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/3385803755277319250'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/3385803755277319250'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2008/02/arrivals-and-departures.html' title='arrivals and departures'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-2318481329225020074</id><published>2008-02-27T19:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-27T19:50:40.466-08:00</updated><title type='text'>my reply</title><content type='html'>A good friend of mine makes regular changes to her Gmail chat status. It's become a fun habit of mine to always make some sort of comment about it when I notice the difference (I think she expects it now, and maybe even looks forward to it a little :). This time, her status was a question:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you had 24 hours...?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because I feel like sharing it, here was my immediate reply (no editing, just my thoughts as they formed into words):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; me: 24 hours before what?&lt;br /&gt; her: you died&lt;br /&gt; me: you know...&lt;br /&gt;  I'm not sure how to answer that question&lt;br /&gt; I think I would do one thing&lt;br /&gt;  as many times as I could&lt;br /&gt;  I would find everyone that I love&lt;br /&gt;  even slightly&lt;br /&gt;  and tell them why I love them&lt;br /&gt;  I would start in Portland&lt;br /&gt;   but first, I would buy airline tickets&lt;br /&gt;  one to NM&lt;br /&gt;  then from NM to NJ&lt;br /&gt; i hate to spend precious hours in travel&lt;br /&gt;  but it would be necessary&lt;br /&gt;  and I could use the time to write a final goodbye&lt;br /&gt; to the world I intended to marry, once we'd gotten to know each other&lt;br /&gt;  :)&lt;br /&gt;  actually, the travel time would work perfectly&lt;br /&gt;  because I could 'induce labor', so to speak, on all the thoughts and ideas in my mind&lt;br /&gt;  write them all down&lt;br /&gt; based on the timing, my trip would end with my Mom and my sister&lt;br /&gt;  actually, no&lt;br /&gt;  I would have my parting from them&lt;br /&gt;  and take my last minutes to be alone&lt;br /&gt; (note - I keep a high interest, high-limit credit card in reserve, for emergencies...this would qualify)&lt;br /&gt;  so...I guess I DO know how to answer that question&lt;br /&gt;  :)&lt;br /&gt;  if I had enough time, I would go to the ocean&lt;br /&gt;  at the end&lt;br /&gt; maybe Montauk&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, there's that. I think this is the kind of question we ought to always be able to answer. It tells us something...about ourselves. About what's important. About how prepared we are to do whatever it takes. So what, specifically, would you do if you had 24 hours? And why?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-2318481329225020074?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/2318481329225020074/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=2318481329225020074' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/2318481329225020074'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/2318481329225020074'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2008/02/my-reply.html' title='my reply'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-2154444911248517193</id><published>2008-02-25T20:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-25T20:40:25.935-08:00</updated><title type='text'>cinema fantastico!</title><content type='html'>Yesterday was a movie day. I watched six (yes, SIX) movies on Sunday. They form an interesting cross-section of not only my tastes, but my life. Decipher as you will. ask as you dare. In order of viewing, they are:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love Actually - "Ya, dahling!" This qualifies as a guilty pleasure, something to lift my spirit without polluting it with too much saccarin unreality. This movie puts many forms of love on display, snapshots of people in the midst of their lives. Some success, some failure, though failure isn't quite the right word. Neither is success, for that matter. I think that's what I love about this movie; it's light and funny and witty, but it carries with it a number of powerful messages. Yes, it certainly qualifies as sap, but follow that sap and you find the Great Tree that bled it out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brick - "I gave you Jer to see him eaten, not to see you fed." What might have been a quirky and all-too-gimmicky blend of classic noir and high school drama turned out to be one of the better movies of 2006. One of the few times my high expectations for a film have been exceeded. It shines a blade that cuts sharp. It bleeds a certain poetic determination to be simple and real, despite its dusty standards and dagger-eyed dealings. Keep up with it now, and it will reward you with its tale.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once - "Take this sinking boat, and point it home. We've still got time." The best movie about love and music since High Fidelity, while bearing with it the charm and simplicity of Before Sunrise/Before Sunset. Also one of of the most real love stories you will ever find in a film. My favorite 'indie' flick of 2007 (Yes, I absolutely loved Juno, whatever you may think that says about me. Yes, this was better. Sorry, folks)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Clue - "Communism was just a red herring." A classic. Slapstick, fast-talking-high-trousers kind of wit, just a riot. Tim Curry is Tim Currying at his finest. Great cast, awesome house, Yvette's breasts. You will wish every game of Clue you played was like this movie. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shaun of the Dead - "You've got red on you." A zombie comedy. How could this not be awesome! Simon Pegg and Edgar Wright are comic gold. Watch everything they've ever done. You won't be disappointed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Memento - "I don't...*feel* drunk..." This movie deserved it's own post. This is one of the five most influencial films of my life. For reasons obvious, and for reasons only I could tell you (if you'd listen). I watched this alone, after everyone had left my movie day/night. I fell asleep to it, though I don't remember sleeping. I tossed and turned, lucid dreaming, memories waxing and waning. No rest. This is such an intimate film for me. I often watch it alone, and seldom now. The last person I wanted to, and tried to, share it with...well, turned out that they weren't interested when it came right down to it. Funny, because it was like adding another polaroid to my pocket, another 'freaky tattoo' over my heart, driving the lessons of this film even deeper into me. If there is a filmed explanation of why honesty of self, honesty-to-self, is so important to me, this is it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that was, in a nutshell, my Sunday. Good flicks, VERY good company (thanks, Amy :), and a sleepless night that I believe was called for. So it goes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-2154444911248517193?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/2154444911248517193/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=2154444911248517193' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/2154444911248517193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/2154444911248517193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2008/02/cinema-fantastico.html' title='cinema fantastico!'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-4990016929752140358</id><published>2008-02-24T15:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-24T15:33:05.731-08:00</updated><title type='text'>thoughts (mine, and others)</title><content type='html'>"Like the burlesque comedian, I am abnormally fond of that precision which creates movement."  - e.e.cummings&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Reason and passion, wed and consumated, conceiving and giving birth to action)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;----------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In pratice, willful ignorance is indistinguishible from malice. This is a lesson I deeply wish more people would learn. That not acting is an action. That not choosing is a choice. That ignoring something doesn't make it go away. That wanting something doesn't make it real.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;----------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Fame is a form of incomprehension, perhaps the worst."  - Borges&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Fame is simply another word for taking the image of someone and substituting it for the real person. Most people only know their idea of others. This may be why we all so often feel so alone. When you treat everyone like a player in your own show, when the curtain falls, no one is real but you...and you're not even sure of that. As the Bard suggests, "This above all: To thine own self be true. And it must follow, as the night the day, thou canst not then be false to any man." That's as good a place to start as any I've found)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The heresies we should fear are those which can be confused with orthodoxy. "  - Borges&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The distance between traitor and convert is slim."  - Borges&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Borges has an innate understanding of these diaphenous lines that divide and define such things as faith and religion and divinity and eternity.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Misery requires lost paradises."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Nuff said.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-4990016929752140358?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/4990016929752140358/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=4990016929752140358' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/4990016929752140358'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/4990016929752140358'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2008/02/thoughts-mine-and-others.html' title='thoughts (mine, and others)'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-4927977371537556576</id><published>2008-02-21T15:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-21T15:38:59.265-08:00</updated><title type='text'>givin' it up to The Man</title><content type='html'>I just finished paying my taxes today. That's right: paying. You see, due to a slight inattention on my part, I was expecting my usual refund amount this year. Kevin's annual economic stimulus package, in that it stimulates things like travel and new laptops (and last year, the closest thing to a bender I've ever been on...but that's neither here nor there...). However, this year, they took almost the exactly correct amount out in withholding, and the 'almost' was not in my favor. I ended up owing the Gub'ment $30 and my lovely new state of residence $151. All told, that was about a thousand-buck-swing from what was expected. Fortunately, I don't ever really get stressed about money (not much truly stresses me anymore, which is fantastic, as once I was a fiery ball of nerves at the slightest provocation). However...well, let's just say that, while things aren't tight, they certainly aren't as loose as I would like. Fortunately, I'm loose enough to make up for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reflective side note: I nearly every year procrastinate on filing my taxes, even though every year since I started paying them I got something back. This year, with me having to pay, I got it taken care of a week before the end of February. This tells me something about myself. I take care of my obligations to others with more diligence and motivation than I take care of my obligations to myself. Those of you who know me are probably aware of this caveat of Kevin. :) And I'm aware, too. I just find it mildly humorous and informative that this spills over even into things like taxes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In any event, my taxes are taken care of. And that is a Good Thing. And this way, when Dubbya's economic stimulus package kicks in, it will be like getting free money (instead of feeling like it only offset the fact that I had to pay...certain self-delusions are healthy...right?)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-4927977371537556576?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/4927977371537556576/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=4927977371537556576' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/4927977371537556576'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/4927977371537556576'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2008/02/givin-it-up-to-man.html' title='givin&apos; it up to The Man'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-1151970365703091724</id><published>2008-02-16T17:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-16T17:44:48.931-08:00</updated><title type='text'>peer into my Abyss; I'm looking back</title><content type='html'>The devil in Daniel Plainview is the devil in me. I know him. He knows me. I look at these...&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;people &lt;/span&gt;sometimes, too many times, and I see nothing worth liking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have his devil in me. I have its eyes. I know where it leads. I knew his bowling-pin finish from the very start. The way his precise signature decayed into illegible, indifferent scrawl by the end. The Fire that drove him and powered him burned everything else to ash in his heart. Red fire, grey ash, black oil...I know these colors.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have chained and restrained the creature, dammed and damned the Beast within for most of my life. I have borrowed its power, my soul as collateral, and used it to create many a great good in my life and the lives of others. After all, the power of Love IS the power of Hate; the power to Save IS the power to Damn (the religious often miss this). And I have never let this power rule me. I have kept my sovereignty ("But at what cost?" I sometimes ask...a question for another post, on another day). But always...always...it strives and connives and slithers and writhes to be free. The sinister whisper is ever=present. It carries both the hot wet panting of desire and the cold breath of death. And there are times when I catch myself listening. Nodding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a man of light now. But as powerful as my light becomes, I will always have the darkness to match. I am not afraid, though. I know I will need both to go where I'm heading. The sinuous line marks the path. Both straight and curved. Neither line nor circle. More a spiral. Like a maelstrom. A tornado. A black hole. A drain. A sunflower.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But always, I remember the truth: There will be blood. There is always blood.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-1151970365703091724?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/1151970365703091724/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=1151970365703091724' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/1151970365703091724'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/1151970365703091724'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2008/02/peer-into-my-abyss-im-looking-back.html' title='peer into my Abyss; I&apos;m looking back'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-2060934935481520468</id><published>2008-02-15T15:27:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-15T15:51:21.514-08:00</updated><title type='text'>the power of sports</title><content type='html'>Last night...or rather, this morning...I was closing out my shift at the paper, having just finished printing and sending out the morning run (I work at the Oregonian, the primary local newspaper). Myself and the rest of the crew had finished all the side work and were waiting for the foreman to send us home. As it often does between guys of a certain type (read: most types that work in a pressroom or a mailroom), talk turned to sports. The Portland Trailblazers are a popular topic, so everyone started talking about their success so far this year (for the uninitiated, they are a professional basketball team...details, details...). I, being fairly well-versed in most goings-on in the sporting world, chimed in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me say this now, for those of you who may not know this about me: I am a sports fan. I have been since I was young. One of my earliest memories is of the Mets winning the 1986 World Series. I remember the Buckner game. I remember Jesse Orosco throwing his glove into the air after throwing the last strike in Game 7. My Dad's unbound joy and his spine-bending embrace. There have been many times in my life where I've thought about leaving sports behind, moving on to other things. Something always keeps me, though. One thing is the power that all games have at the heart of them; the power to teach and train people how to live. I can talk about that for hours, and perhaps I will in a later post. Right now, though, I want to talk about the power of sports to bring people together. Between myself and the 8 or 9 men and women standing around, we represented quite a cross section of cultures and lifestyles and ages. But when I got to talking, passionately and intelligently, about the state of the Blazers, and the merits of the Shaq trade to the Suns, and the Lakers getting Gasol to go with Bynum and Odom in a potentially devastatingly good frontcourt, and the balance of power in the Western Conference, and the merits of various backcourts in the league, and the emergence of Chris Paul as not only an elite point guard but possibly as the next truly elite player...miraculously, simply, we were all on the same page. I was essentially holding court, engaging the minds and the hearts of the tired workers around me, just waiting to go home and sleep. People were leaning forward, making interesting points. Some were just listening, possibly with more than a little amusement at our enthusiasm. :) Still, the whole room noticeably brightened. It's that power that has kept me interested and engaged in the sporting world. You could have nothing, literally NOTHING, in common with someone, but if you can talk about their favorite team or their favorite sport with any level of interest and intelligence, you just made yourself a friend. You just opened a heart a little bit. It's all about engaging someone's passions. Sports, books, music, art, hobbies, science, math, history, clothes, coffee, wine, ANYthing. That is, in fact, the key to human relations. Learn to love what someone else loves, love them and love the object of their affections, and you have made a bond that can last. And, as George Washington Carver said, "Anything will give up its secrets if you love it enough."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Want to solve the mystery of a human being? Want to know someone, truly and deeply and completely? Love what they love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sports taught me that early in life, and so many other things have reinforced it. That's why I don't leave. I am not in the business of abandoning loves. Not my own, not others'.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-2060934935481520468?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/2060934935481520468/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=2060934935481520468' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/2060934935481520468'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/2060934935481520468'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2008/02/power-of-sports.html' title='the power of sports'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-3160208853899115692</id><published>2008-02-14T15:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-14T15:16:55.090-08:00</updated><title type='text'>two in one day!</title><content type='html'>Maybe a little overboard, but I was reading my favorite sports column and came across this comment:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Do you realize that listening to Explosions in the Sky, the band that does most of "Friday Night Lights" music, can make any normal experience epic? I walked my dog wearing headphones and listening to them, and by the end of the walk, I felt as if I had experienced something truly life-altering. I am currently trying to apply the "Explosions Theory" to many other aspects of my life, such as showering, vacuuming, and doing laundry."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have loved EitS for years now, and have often found them to be life-altering. :) Well, I'd say it's more like they are perception-of-life altering, just like all good music, all good literature, and all good art. I have seen them in concert (they are absolutely incredible, and it wasn't even on their best night, so sayeth my friends who know these things). And if any of you out there are unfamiliar, I HIGHLY recommend picking up one of their albums. I have them all, so if you happen to be conveniently-geographically-located to me, just ask. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For samples, head &lt;a href="http://www.myspace.com/explosionsinthesky"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-3160208853899115692?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/3160208853899115692/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=3160208853899115692' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/3160208853899115692'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/3160208853899115692'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2008/02/two-in-one-day.html' title='two in one day!'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-3085093290102462088</id><published>2008-02-14T13:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-14T14:08:57.448-08:00</updated><title type='text'>musing on God and Us</title><content type='html'>A good friend of mine emailed me this comment, from a /. (slashdot, for the uninitiated among you :) thread:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"God made the universe 6,000 years ago. If you do not worship him and subjugate yourself to his will, he will torture you forever. He just put in things like dinosaur bones and black holes to mess with your head, to get you to disbelieve in him, so that he can torture you forever without feeling guilty about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's kinda messed up because he was alone for like, eternity, until he made up some friends in his head, but he's incapable of imagining anything that is actually his peer, so he secretly hates us all for not providing the companionship he needs. That is how the universe works."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Such sentiments are somewhat common these days, especially in the internet community. Sometimes funny, sometimes bitter, never terribly Christian-God-friendly. Upon receiving this in an email, here was my response:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We made God 6,000 years ago. If we do not worship him and subjugate ourselves to his will, we will torture ourselves forever. We use things like biblical manifestos and the 'super'natural to mess with each other's heads, to convince ourselves to believe in him, so that we can torment ourselves forever with guilt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're kinda messed up because we think we'll be alone forever (and mistakenly believe we're not strong enough to handle that). So we made up a god in our heads, but we are incapable of imagining anything that truly surpasses us, so we secretly hate him (and our selves) for not providing the companionship and guidance we need. This is how life works."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Neither of these is, strictly speaking, my Belief, but both contain elements of it. Musing on this has provided me some interesting insights. So I thought I would share. Muse and comment as you will.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-3085093290102462088?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/3085093290102462088/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=3085093290102462088' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/3085093290102462088'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/3085093290102462088'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2008/02/musing-on-god-and-us.html' title='musing on God and Us'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-2926694563091034960</id><published>2008-02-13T13:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-13T13:57:10.727-08:00</updated><title type='text'>a resolution, and first blood drawn</title><content type='html'>Many times this blog has waxed and waned in its attention and importance in my life. Once again, I have decided to devote more time to it. In short, I am resolving to post something to this blog five times a week. At times, it will simply be links to cool inter-shit I've run across. Sometimes they'll be thoughts and comments regarding these tidbits. Occasionally I will be writing about my thoughts and observations of life and the people that live it. You know, the usual. So, here's the first of what should be many.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, I ran across &lt;a href="http://www.newyorker.com/online/podcasts/fiction"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt; wonderful treasure-trove of literary tastiness from The New Yorker. I am a fan of short fiction, and I believe that if I ever become a 'writer', this will be the form into which I pour myself. One of my favorite all-time stories is Bullet In The Brain, by Tobias Wolff. I knew it was going to be a good day when I discovered this podcast on the day that BitB was the featured reading. So please, take the time to enjoy this today. Download the mp3 and drop it onto you iPod. The commute home will be the richer for it, trust me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(note - if you'd like to read along, or just have a copy for yourself to peruse later, &lt;a href="http://sitemaker.umich.edu/commonagenda/files/wolff.pdf"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;'s a link to a downloadable PDF file)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-2926694563091034960?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/2926694563091034960/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=2926694563091034960' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/2926694563091034960'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/2926694563091034960'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2008/02/resolution-and-first-blood-drawn.html' title='a resolution, and first blood drawn'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-6534934993780102982</id><published>2008-01-31T18:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-31T18:57:58.192-08:00</updated><title type='text'>in hell...</title><content type='html'>...a snowball suddenly raised it's countenance. "Today's the day," he says to himself with a smile that's waited an eternity to find freedom. There was a shiver down a spine that had no relation to the suddenly chill wind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night, I was directly referred to as 'lanky', and told that I could pull off a Mr. Fantastic Halloween costume. This was stated in complete seriousness. First I'm called skinny, and now this. To say that this is disconcerting is an understatement. My self-image needs as much of an update as my wardrobe, I think. First step nearly complete: re-acquisition of my self-worth. I gotta stop giving that to people, especially the wrong ones. It sets me back like a bad debt.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-6534934993780102982?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/6534934993780102982/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=6534934993780102982' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/6534934993780102982'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/6534934993780102982'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2008/01/in-hell.html' title='in hell...'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-1511301326428466424</id><published>2008-01-25T17:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-25T18:01:16.051-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I wish I had more to say here lately. The fact of the matter is that, if you're around, I'm saying it all to you. If you're looking at me, you see it. I no longer feel like talking to deaf ears or dancing for sightless eyes or the air between myself and them. I'm sure some things will show up here on this blog, and soon. It's just that I'm a little tired of relationships limited to writing, which this blog definitely represents. I'm a little tired of all the limited forms of expression that seem to make up so much of our lives these days. Tired of trying to squeeze myself into them, twist and contort myself until something breaks. I'd rather invest my energies right now in finding a place to stretch the wings that let me fly, before they atrophy. I guess I've got a little Jonathan Livingston Seagull in me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, see you soon, and happy 2008. One month nearly down. Eleven more to go.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-1511301326428466424?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/1511301326428466424/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=1511301326428466424' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/1511301326428466424'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/1511301326428466424'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2008/01/i-wish-i-had-more-to-say-here-lately.html' title=''/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-5769992888817987702</id><published>2008-01-22T14:08:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-22T14:11:08.423-08:00</updated><title type='text'>As It Was</title><content type='html'>I was rooting around inside my life recently. Found this little piece...seems like a long time ago, and it was. Longer than I care to say. It's hard to remember who I used to be sometimes. Sometimes it's all too easy...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love, as it was of ice&lt;br /&gt;Now become cracked vice&lt;br /&gt;Like amber fields past white&lt;br /&gt;Heart's harvest finds blight&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love, as it was of fire&lt;br /&gt;Plucked like well-tuned lyre&lt;br /&gt;Notes soar ever higher&lt;br /&gt;Winged heart does tire&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love, as it was of stone&lt;br /&gt;Repelling all seed sown&lt;br /&gt;Choosing the comfort of alone&lt;br /&gt;All hope of heart unknown&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love, as it was of air&lt;br /&gt;Breath stifled in despair&lt;br /&gt;Wishing Wind would lay me bare&lt;br /&gt;But finding it hard to care&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love, as it is of soul&lt;br /&gt;Gathering all to make one whole&lt;br /&gt;Knowing life will take its toll&lt;br /&gt;Unafraid to let the boulder roll&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-5769992888817987702?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/5769992888817987702/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=5769992888817987702' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/5769992888817987702'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/5769992888817987702'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2008/01/as-it-was.html' title='As It Was'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-8255061497636587978</id><published>2007-12-30T17:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-30T17:59:31.822-08:00</updated><title type='text'>El Scorcho</title><content type='html'>1am on Friday morning. Stepping Stone Cafe. Milkshakes and malts with good friends. Pinkerton is playing on the house speakers, and I'm waiting for that certain song to come. My sister's landing in a matter of hours. I have the next five days off of work. The year is ending. The year is beginning. My thoughts are moving in and out of the depths and the shallows, the wides and the narrows, the joys and the sorrows. My heart is moving with them. Everything feels like one thing, and I feel infinite. Then the song plays. El Scorcho.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Goddamn you half-Japanese girls&lt;br /&gt;Do it to me every time&lt;br /&gt;Oh, the redhead said you shred the cello&lt;br /&gt;And I'm jello, baby&lt;br /&gt;You won't talk, won't look, won't think of me&lt;br /&gt;I'm the epitome of Public Enemy&lt;br /&gt;Why you wanna go and do me like that?&lt;br /&gt;Come down on the street and dance with me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm a lot like you so please&lt;br /&gt;Hello, I'm here, I'm waiting&lt;br /&gt;I think I'd be good for you&lt;br /&gt;And you'd be good for me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I asked you to go to the Green Day concert&lt;br /&gt;You said you never heard of them&lt;br /&gt;How cool is that?&lt;br /&gt;So I went up to your room and read your diary:&lt;br /&gt;"Watching Grunge leg-drop New-Jack through a press table..."&lt;br /&gt;And then my heart stopped: "Listening to Cio-Cio San&lt;br /&gt;Fall in love all over again."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm a lot like you so please&lt;br /&gt;Hello, I'm here, I'm waiting&lt;br /&gt;I think I'd be good for you&lt;br /&gt;And you'd be good for me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How stupid is it? I can't talk about it&lt;br /&gt;I gotta sing about it and make a record of my heart&lt;br /&gt;How stupid is it? Won't you give me a minute&lt;br /&gt;Just come up to me and say hello to my heart&lt;br /&gt;How stupid is it?&lt;br /&gt;For all I know you want me too&lt;br /&gt;And maybe you just don't know what to do&lt;br /&gt;Or maybe you're scared to say: "I'm falling for you"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I could get my head out of the sand&lt;br /&gt;'Cause I think we'd make a good team&lt;br /&gt;And you would keep my fingernails clean&lt;br /&gt;But that's just a stupid dream that I won't realize&lt;br /&gt;'Cause I can't even look in your eyes&lt;br /&gt;Without shakin', and I ain't fakin'&lt;br /&gt;I'll bring home the turkey if you bring home the bacon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm a lot like you so please&lt;br /&gt;Hello, I'm here, I'm waiting&lt;br /&gt;I think I'd be good for you&lt;br /&gt;And you'd be good for me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm a lot like you.&lt;br /&gt;I'm a lot, and I'm waitin.&lt;br /&gt;I think I'd be good for you&lt;br /&gt;And you'd be good for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I'm singing along. And half the cafe is mouthing the words. And smiling. And I'm remembering when that song was given to me. I'm remembering who did the giving. I'm remembering the good times, the beginning. I'm remembering myself. I'm seeing myself, now. And I feel infinite. And I'm sucking down that malt. And thinking about my sister. And thinking about Portland. My town. And I'm thinking about love. My love. And it feels infinite.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-8255061497636587978?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/8255061497636587978/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=8255061497636587978' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/8255061497636587978'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/8255061497636587978'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2007/12/el-scorcho.html' title='El Scorcho'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-4352207041398986083</id><published>2007-12-22T15:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-22T16:41:12.874-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Missing</title><content type='html'>Missing family, who I know miss me dearly. Not missing so much what they do for me, but more what I know I do for them. It's so easy to make those who love you happy. Just be there. On the phone, in an email or a letter, and whenever possible in the flesh. Just be there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Missing friends, new and old, near and far. Away for the holidays, some. Others living elsewhere in the world. A few, simply not around. Missing some who will return. And some who never will. Missing some who will return, but not return the same. Missing some who are gone forever, and missing some who will never be gone...not for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Missing connections. Missing the links that build the truth of things. But missing fewer and fewer now than before. Missing the warm hope that ignorance can breed. Missing what it was like not to know the truth of something, or someone. Wouldn't change it, though, no matter how much imaginary sweetness there'd be. Make it right and make it real.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Missing the mark, but not by much. Missing the thought of emptiness filled. Missing the me I ought to be. Missing the trust I used to have in that. Missing that drive to become. But missing it all with silhouetting pegs of white, waiting to throw a few reds out there...maybe sink a battleship. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Missing a time when everything didn't try desperately to remind me of something else. Missing the people that only remind me of themselves. Missing the real ones; the intimate sight of someone's heart laid open and beating. Missing that realness and exposure. Missing the gentle hands and eyes and ears and words I use to soothe those hearts and work them back to a strong and healthy rhythm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am missing so much right now. But this missing is teaching me to find again, just as failure teaches me success, and losing teaches me how to win. My life is defined right now by this missing, this absence. It makes for the aches. But it's good pain. It's good because it shows me what I have, and what I am beginning to have. It shows me what is lost, and why it had to be lost.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Missing the point? Not for long. Not anymore. Does a heart blossom in winter? Mine will. Mine Will.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-4352207041398986083?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/4352207041398986083/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=4352207041398986083' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/4352207041398986083'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/4352207041398986083'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2007/12/missing.html' title='Missing'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-2701422779366627282</id><published>2007-11-27T17:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-27T17:06:16.885-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I am well</title><content type='html'>I am deep, filled with life-giving water.&lt;br /&gt;Cleansing, dancing water.&lt;br /&gt;I am refreshed by that which fills me.&lt;br /&gt;And am refreshing again to those I love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am well, again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More to come, much more.&lt;br /&gt;Love you all.&lt;br /&gt;Love the world, and life itself.&lt;br /&gt;Love myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quoting; "I want you to really listen to me. My eyes are open."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(hint for quote: "What's that smell?")&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-2701422779366627282?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/2701422779366627282/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=2701422779366627282' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/2701422779366627282'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/2701422779366627282'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2007/11/i-am-well.html' title='I am well'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-3177448513401146505</id><published>2007-11-06T16:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-06T17:36:10.869-08:00</updated><title type='text'>sick of myself</title><content type='html'>I am sick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am sick of being respected, but not known.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am sick of being loved, but not wanted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am sick of wanting something I cannot have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am sick of hoping for it anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am sick of fighting for the flickering light.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am sick of the dark whispers, and their warmth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am sick of writing what I ought to say, and saying what I ought to write.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am sick of living neither.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am sick of the prison of familiarity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am sick of the pain of difference.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am sick of this life of propped-up routine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am sick of having to give up my dreams.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am sick of denying the truth in the name of faith.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am sick of moments like these, where everything seems sick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am sick of what I've let myself become.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am sick of myself. And sickness must purge itself before healing can begin. So consider this a moment of vomiting, something to get the ball rolling. Sorry for the mess. I hope none of it got on you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-3177448513401146505?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/3177448513401146505/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=3177448513401146505' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/3177448513401146505'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/3177448513401146505'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2007/11/sick-of-myself.html' title='sick of myself'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-596903574964935469</id><published>2007-10-23T14:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-23T14:50:14.789-07:00</updated><title type='text'>lalalaLA...whoa, deja vu...</title><content type='html'>Well, I was going to do something like what all the blog-kids are doing these days and run down a list of all the things I did in LA, with yummy details. But having waited so long to write about it, I find that it has settled into the soft soil of memory. There were plenty of highlights, like The Getty, Pink's hotdogs, Improv Olympic, the beaches (Santa Monica, Venice, etc.), Pasadena, Hollywood, Beverly Hills, good times with good old friends, long walks in a city that was new to me...it goes on and on. Overall, though, what I took away from LA was a beginning. Visiting a new place and making new memories with old friends...it was exactly what I needed for the coming changes. Got a haircut, which helped, too. :) But truly, I began the restoration process, setting myself back onto the path which I have chosen for myself, because it makes the most sense. Righting the ship, one might say. I always have loved the Ship analogy for life, because the best ship captains make small corrections at key moments to right their course and navigate their way to the destination they have in mind. You don't see the full effects of these changes for a long time (sometimes not until arrival), but you cultivate within yourself the vision to see what needs to be done. You weather storms, and hold together a crew who only have each other on the lonely seas. Yes, the Ship is the perfect way to describe it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, the trip was good. No need to blog it in detail...as always, the particulars aren't all that important to share, but the result is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(of course, feel free to ask me pointed questions about the trip and I will willingly share juicy details. ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-596903574964935469?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/596903574964935469/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=596903574964935469' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/596903574964935469'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/596903574964935469'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2007/10/lalalalawhoa-deja-vu.html' title='lalalaLA...whoa, deja vu...'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-9094284529115716187</id><published>2007-10-12T20:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-12T21:03:36.028-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bluffs, but not bluffing</title><content type='html'>Work today was the kind of bone-wearying labor that makes me feel good about life. Good, hard day. The sky was looking ripe for a satisfying ending, and the temperature was brisk perfection, so I took hold of my freshly-upgraded bike and rode out to the Skidmore Bluffs. Found myself a nice spot to watch the sun set. And set it did, in a blaze of oranges and pinks that warmed the sky and played flirtatious with the clouds. I lit up a cigar and took a few hits off my flask of Bushmill's; single-malt, triple-distilled, 10-year...it's was like drinking a smoldering campfire. Feeling literary, I cracked open The Great Gatsby, an old high school read that has recently beckoned to me. Maybe it's the years I've put between the kid that first read it and the man I've become, but it finally has dawned on me that Fitzgerald may well have truly written the Great American Novel. I know that many people much smarter than I have said that, but this is the first time that it occurred to me in that virgin way that truth always dawns upon us. I could go on and on, but I think I will just share a few quotes from the book. They spoke with particular sharpness to my mind and heart:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"As I went over to say good-by I saw that the expression of bewilderment had come back into Gatsby’s face, as though a faint doubt had occurred to him as to the quality of his present happiness. Almost five years! There must have been moments even that afternoon when Daisy tumbled short of his dreams—not through her own fault, but because of the colossal vitality of his illusion. It had gone beyond her, beyond everything. He had thrown himself into it with a creative passion, adding to it all the time, decking it out with every bright feather that drifted his way. No amount of fire or freshness can challenge what a man will store up in his ghostly heart."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"“If it wasn’t for the mist we could see your home across the bay,” said Gatsby. “You always have a green light that burns all night at the end of your dock.”  &lt;p&gt;Daisy put her arm through his abruptly, but he seemed absorbed in what he had just said. Possibly it had occurred to him that the colossal significance of that light had now vanished forever. Compared to the great distance that had separated him from Daisy it had seemed very near to her, almost touching her. It had seemed as close as a star to the moon. Now it was again a green light on a dock. His count of enchanted objects had diminished by one."&lt;/p&gt;--------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"He smiled understandingly—much more than understandingly. It was one of those rare smiles with a quality of eternal reassurance in it, that you may come across four or five times in life. It faced—or seemed to face—the whole external world for an instant, and then concentrated on you with an irresistible prejudice in your favor. It understood you just so far as you wanted to be understood, believed in you as you would like to believe in yourself, and assured you that it had precisely the impression of you that, at your best, you hoped to convey."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even with liberal quoting, it's nigh impossible to convey the stunning sweetness and wholeness of this work. If it has been awhile, and you like the English language displayed at its finest, then I highly recommend picking up The Great Gatsby.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-9094284529115716187?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/9094284529115716187/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=9094284529115716187' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/9094284529115716187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/9094284529115716187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2007/10/bluffs-but-not-bluffing.html' title='Bluffs, but not bluffing'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-5731028292789672351</id><published>2007-10-09T22:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-09T22:28:17.205-07:00</updated><title type='text'>rising also, the sun</title><content type='html'>During my trip to LA (which will be blogged about very soon...GOOD trip), I read The Sun Also Rises, by Ernest Hemingway. I read this book for the first time about 4 years ago, at the beginning of what I've begun to refer to in my mind as The Change (the re-evaluation and re-organization of nearly everything in my life). As I began the re-read, an old index card/bookmark fell out. It had two quotes from the book written on it. I will share them here now:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It's awfully easy to be hard-boiled about everything in the daytime, but at night, it's another thing."  - Jake&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The Catholic Church had an awfully good way of handling all that. Good advice, anyway. Not to think about it. Oh, it was swell advice. Try and take it sometime. Try and take it."  - Jake&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Obviously, that was a time of heavy heart and battered mind for me. The latter half of 2003 (and parts of 2004, to be honest) had me feeling very much like Jake at his worst. Quite a bit less sophisticated, but just as unable to move past a certain matter of the heart. In reading this book again, though, I have seen a little more clearly how deeply and profoundly I have changed. I, as most men do, identified very closely with Jake. His sort of hopeless and indefatigable love for an object that was incapable of containing the affection that he would so dearly love to give. The shallow vessel always spills over quickly, no matter how beautifully or skillfully crafted it may be. But now, of all the characters in the book, I realized immediately that I felt a much closer kinship with the Count. count Mippipopolous (great name). His appearance is very brief in the story, and is easily dismissed as peripheral. Indeed, that is exactly why I felt so strongly about him this time. The Count, by virtue of the life he has lived and the experiences that have passed for him (only hinted at, for the most part), is completely immune to such alluring pitfalls as Brett and the inherent drama that parasites its way through her wake. During his entire role in the story, I get the sense of a man who is leaning back in his chair, drinking his wine and smoking his cigar, smiling a small contented smile. He is not a Man Above, but he is a Man Apart. Whatever adventures he has had, they have inoculated him against the wastes and follies of the youthfully misspent life. However, they have not divorced him from the pure Joy that is life itself. He LIVES, but is unburdened by living. I cannot think of a better way to be. That I feel even the slightest kinship with him now warms my heart and spurs me on to bolder and bolder thoughts. The last exchange of the book, between Brett and Jake:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, Jake, we could have had such a damned good time together."&lt;br /&gt;"Yes. Isn't it pretty to think so?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A life spent in imagined but unrealized and ultimately impossible bliss? Not for me. Let me say that again. Not. For. Me. It will be right, or it will be nothing. What I build will be real. It will be tested in fire. Should it fail, it will be discarded. Should it pass, it will be embraced and held close and leaned upon, for such things are treasures beyond price.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another thought from the book...I have always had affection for the term 'aficionado'. Hemingway's use of it in his book has reminded me of how much it describes certain aspects of my life and the way I live it. An aficionado is one who has Passion for a certain thing. That passion is expressed in the way you pay attention to the nuances and subtleties of that certain thing. You have both a thirst and a respect for it. I have aficion for many things, more every day. I try to live my life as an expression of reasoned passion. Find a copy of this book and open it to Chapter 13. A few pages in, you will find Jake's first encounter with Montoya. Read the explanation of aficion. I need say no more.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-5731028292789672351?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/5731028292789672351/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=5731028292789672351' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/5731028292789672351'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/5731028292789672351'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2007/10/rising-also-sun.html' title='rising also, the sun'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-5159010996107903993</id><published>2007-10-02T19:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-02T19:50:30.651-07:00</updated><title type='text'>la, la, la...L.A.</title><content type='html'>So, I've taken a week or so off from blogging, as life was far too full to stop and write about. Now, I'm in LA visiting friends, and am taking what you might call a Deep Breath. Clearing the Air. All that jazz. I have lots on my mind and on my heart, and I'm getting close to being ready to put words to it. Obviously, there will be a Things I Did in LA blog, but I also have some other thoughts knocking around in my head. More on those soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last three months of this year are going to be all about Strength for me. Strength of body, strength of mind and strength of heart. I'm going to start running again in earnest, an activity that I have gotten away from with all the bike riding and walking I do. I'm also going to begin some more serious weight training (I still have a calendar to prepare for...scary and exciting! :). In my mind and heart, I think I will let this quote tell the story:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"This is all getting rather undisciplined....The boat, the night, the sense of isolation and uncertainty...all these induce a loosening of the concentration. We must not lose control. Tighten up. Now."  - Rosencrantz &amp;amp; Guildenstern are Dead&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The power I use to drive my life comes from the mating of my intuition and my whimsy with my discipline and self-control and will. It is the mating of my Reason and my Passion. I have said this over and over again, and will continue to say it. Most people live a life dominated by one or the other. But the mating of these two gives birth to a kind of power that is seldom realized in the human heart. I am only beginning to understand, but in that beginning I am finding...well, I am finding many things. :) Right now, I must attend to my Reason, my Will. I have let slip certain restraints within my heart. I have dwelt too long on Sweetness and the potential for Sweetness. I allowed it to saturate my Reason, which allowed my heart to fall into certain...traps. The details matter not (they are many, falling on a few primary paths). My blog on Denial will illuminate more on this. I can't wait to write it. :) I'm still trying to figure out how I want to approach it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, enough on that. I have an LA to enjoy. For any of you who may have been concerned about my quiet-blog period, fret not. I was struggling and wrestling there for a spell, but I have the upper hand again. Soon I will have pinned my opponent, and will breathe easily again. :)  I am well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-5159010996107903993?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/5159010996107903993/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=5159010996107903993' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/5159010996107903993'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/5159010996107903993'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2007/10/la-la-lala.html' title='la, la, la...L.A.'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-8115286901520419402</id><published>2007-09-24T17:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-24T17:45:14.488-07:00</updated><title type='text'>new from the Foo</title><content type='html'>The new album by The Foo Fighters is very, very good. I've just gotten done listening to it a few times. The opening song, The Pretender, is a kick-ass lead-off to the album. It's been available as a single for a month or two, and has helped generate quite a bit of buzz (all warranted) for the album. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Echoes, Silence, Patience and Grace &lt;/span&gt;is all that its name would entail, and more. However, right now, I want to deliver to you the lyrics to the closing song, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Home&lt;/span&gt;. First time I listened to it, I actually teared up a little. Of course, you might say I'm an emotional guy anyway. :) Still, this song is moving to me on both a deeply personal level, and on a powerful-message level. Read:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wish I were with you but I couldn't stay&lt;br /&gt;Every direction leads me away&lt;br /&gt;Pray for tomorrow but for today&lt;br /&gt;And all I want is to be home&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stand in the mirror you look the same&lt;br /&gt;Just looking for shelter from the cold and the pain&lt;br /&gt;Some want to cover, safe from the rain&lt;br /&gt;And all I want is to be home&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Echoes and silence and patience and grace,&lt;br /&gt;All of these moments I'll never replace&lt;br /&gt;No fear of my heart, no absence of faith&lt;br /&gt;And all I want is to be home&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I want is to be home&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People I've loved, I have no regrets&lt;br /&gt;Some I remember some I forget&lt;br /&gt;Some of them living some of them dead&lt;br /&gt;And all I want is to be home&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't help but hear an echo of loss for Kurt there in that last verse. All in all, a beautifully composed and executed rock album. Lyrical depth and well-woven melodies combine with Grohl's always-powerful voice and the band's determination to explore their sound to create a record that will likely remain on my regular listening list for some time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enjoy. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-8115286901520419402?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/8115286901520419402/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=8115286901520419402' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/8115286901520419402'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/8115286901520419402'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2007/09/new-from-foo.html' title='new from the Foo'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-4998166675102337197</id><published>2007-09-20T15:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-20T15:41:02.352-07:00</updated><title type='text'>health of Kevin</title><content type='html'>Well, I had a little check-up yesterday, as part of the insurance plan I have through my job. It was only about 3 or 4 years ago that I began to get serious about my physical well-being, but since then I have slowly but surely built what I would call a healthy and active lifestyle. I've gotten my weight nearly down to where I want it, I exercise regularly, bike commute to work, fast multiple times yearly, eat...well, I eat health-consciously, but not always healthy. :) Let's just say that I watch carefully what I ingest, so that I have no excuse for when I feel like crap (I know what's worth it ;).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, at this check-up, I had my Cholesterol, Glucose and Blood Pressure taken. None of those things had happened for a VERY long time. I'm not much for doctors, mostly because I've lacked any form of insurance for quite some time. But given the opportunity, I was very curious about how I shaped up on paper. Here are the numbers:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Total Choleserol: 159&lt;br /&gt;    -HDL: 61&lt;br /&gt;    -LDL: 87&lt;br /&gt;    -Triglycerides: 55&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Non-Fasting Blood Glucose: 95&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blood Pressure: 119/77&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the doctor was going over these results, she made sure to point out to me, more than once, that my numbers were pretty much optimal. I take care of myself, but I have to admit to being surprised by how healthy I am. This, combined with hitting my goal weight last month (see previous ecstatic blog post :), really has me feeling a certain sense of pride and accomplishment. It's been a long hard road at times, picking myself up off the trash heap of fast food and junk food and fried foods and just horrible, horrible eating habits. I am fortunate that I woke up to my state of being in my mid 20s. Now, at 30, I continue to every day be able to say that I am as healthy as I have ever been.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm feelin' good. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-4998166675102337197?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/4998166675102337197/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=4998166675102337197' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/4998166675102337197'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/4998166675102337197'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2007/09/health-of-kevin.html' title='health of Kevin'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-1077919470781272944</id><published>2007-09-14T16:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T21:40:13.795-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Courage, peace, and an old warmth</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_o_Qa6z4ddXg/RusnbJ37cgI/AAAAAAAAAA4/ZT1Mj69wtZg/s1600-h/Tiff+%26+I,+in+the+beginning.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_o_Qa6z4ddXg/RusnbJ37cgI/AAAAAAAAAA4/ZT1Mj69wtZg/s320/Tiff+%26+I,+in+the+beginning.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5110221549642412546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I remember my first night...seems like a loooong time ago."  - Red, The Shawshank Redemption&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you read that quote, think of the scene...early in the movie. Think of the way he says it. That's as close as you will get to knowing exactly how this picture makes me feel. Not like it was a prison...far from it. It just seems like...a long time ago. I burned every picture and every memory of her. Literally, I went camping, built a fire and burned everything. It was what I needed to do. I regret the need, but don't deny it. It took some time, but I've been very peaceful and resolved and content with what happened, for quite a while now. My resolution of this relationship in many ways defines the person I've become. And lately, for whatever reason, she has been on my mind. So I asked my mother to send me this picture, which she kept. It is a picture of the beginning, when everything was good. I was such a different person then (as will be obvious to anyone who looks at me now...I really do look different:).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has been too long since I looked at this, since I fully acknowledged the sweetness of the moment that was Us. It's not easy...but it is good. And that's enough.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-1077919470781272944?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/1077919470781272944/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=1077919470781272944' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/1077919470781272944'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/1077919470781272944'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2007/09/courage-peace-and-old-warmth.html' title='Courage, peace, and an old warmth'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_o_Qa6z4ddXg/RusnbJ37cgI/AAAAAAAAAA4/ZT1Mj69wtZg/s72-c/Tiff+%26+I,+in+the+beginning.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-8509895113023575347</id><published>2007-09-11T17:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T21:40:14.346-08:00</updated><title type='text'>a man of many hats</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_o_Qa6z4ddXg/Rucx1oNzj8I/AAAAAAAAAAc/AXmlThDf-oo/s1600-h/STP80133.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_o_Qa6z4ddXg/Rucx1oNzj8I/AAAAAAAAAAc/AXmlThDf-oo/s320/STP80133.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5109107099673268162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_o_Qa6z4ddXg/RucxfINzj7I/AAAAAAAAAAU/8LJtpmwh_Qo/s1600-h/STP80131.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_o_Qa6z4ddXg/RucxfINzj7I/AAAAAAAAAAU/8LJtpmwh_Qo/s320/STP80131.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5109106713126211506" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For those of you who may not have seen or heard, I am a hat person now. The grey cap is a regular occurrence these days, as it goes well with most anything I wear. The panama hat makes much rarer appearances, but is apparently a hit. There's nothing quite like wearing this out for a night on the town, especially when wearing an all-white outfit. Combine that with the long hair, and I've gotten not a few Jesus references. I'm out of the soul-saving business, though. Sorry to disappoint. ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I'm trying something new with the way that I look. Next step is a MAJOR clothing upgrade, as I now am faced with the new and exciting problem of all of my clothes being too big (instead of too small, a recurring theme during my many years of fattitude).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-8509895113023575347?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/8509895113023575347/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=8509895113023575347' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/8509895113023575347'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/8509895113023575347'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2007/09/man-of-many-hats.html' title='a man of many hats'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_o_Qa6z4ddXg/Rucx1oNzj8I/AAAAAAAAAAc/AXmlThDf-oo/s72-c/STP80133.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-7814015002777977194</id><published>2007-09-04T14:03:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-04T15:38:38.222-07:00</updated><title type='text'>links I usually email</title><content type='html'>I get in the habit of emailing cool links to my friends as I come across them. I'm slowly realizing that this is both inefficient and a waste of perfectly good blogging material. :) So, here's a small collection of links:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.cracked.com/index.php?name=News&amp;sid=2304&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...hilarious Top 10 of best movies that never got made. It will make you cry a little, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.ted.com/talks&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...always a good place to find out what's new and exciting and incredible in the world we share.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.ninja.com/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...my new Google. It's eco-friendly (with the black screen) and has catlike stealth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.mcsweeneys.net/2007/6/18manella.html&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...if you are at all a Palahniuk fan, you will LOVE this. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.baileystaproom.com/index.html&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...my new favorite bar. Just look at the menu. I'm SO going to get a job there. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.portlandonline.com/transportation/index.cfm?c=39890&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...this is likely the ride to the Oregon Coast that I'll be taking. Training began last Monday, when I rode the 45-mile round-trip of the Springwater Corridor. It didn't kick my ass nearly as much as I thought, so the prognosis is good. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.roqlarue.com/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...one of my favorite galleries. A good reason for a day trip to Seattle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RZYIfUdIyfs&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...oh man, this trailer made me feel just like Sigur Ros has always made me feel...Heima; Home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.pointlesswasteoftime.com/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...just as the URL describes, but also very funny. Some of the feature articles are extremely cool, as well. The guy is a talented writer, he just also happens to have a gift for crude and off-the-wall hilarity. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, that should do it for now. I may be back later this week with something of the more 'deep and meaningful' variety. I've had a TON on my mind and heart lately, and it is of the kind that takes time to come to a full form. Until I can frame it, I can't quite write about it. Well, sometimes the act of framing if achieved IN the expression of the thing...hmm, we'll see. For now, I'm writing on people, not blogs. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-7814015002777977194?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/7814015002777977194/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=7814015002777977194' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/7814015002777977194'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/7814015002777977194'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2007/09/links-i-usually-email.html' title='links I usually email'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-254890495126809644</id><published>2007-09-02T19:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-02T19:42:56.320-07:00</updated><title type='text'>the beautiful mistake</title><content type='html'>Ambulance, by TV On The Radio&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your slim frame&lt;br /&gt;Your eager eyes and your wild mane&lt;br /&gt;Oh they keep me where I belong&lt;br /&gt;All wrapped up in wrong&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You’re to blame&lt;br /&gt;For wasted words of sad refrain&lt;br /&gt;Oh let them take me where they may&lt;br /&gt;Believe me when I say&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will be your accident if you will be my ambulance&lt;br /&gt;And I will be your screech and crash if you will be my crutch and cast&lt;br /&gt;And I will be your one more time if you will be my one last chance&lt;br /&gt;oh fall for me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your slim frame&lt;br /&gt;Your simple stare and your wrong, wrong name&lt;br /&gt;Oh they keep me where I belong&lt;br /&gt;All strung out in song&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why so tame&lt;br /&gt;We could shoot wilder vines&lt;br /&gt;Through younger veins&lt;br /&gt;Sip slow from night’s deep wells&lt;br /&gt;And watch our gardens swell&lt;br /&gt;Once the seeds are sown&lt;br /&gt;Wild and overgrown, you’ll see&lt;br /&gt;Heart's colors changed like leaves&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh sweet sweet tree&lt;br /&gt;Fall for me&lt;br /&gt;Fall fast, fall free, fall for me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because I will be your ambulance if you will be my accident&lt;br /&gt;And I will be your screech and crash if you will be my crutch and cast&lt;br /&gt;And I will be your one more time if you will be my one last chance&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh sweet tree, fall with me&lt;br /&gt;Fall fast, fall free, fall with me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;----------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, the siren call of the sweet disaster, the beautiful mistake, the dark romance of the tragic try. I have a certain weakness to such things. And there are times when that weakness comes up on me strong. On Saturday, after a few weeks of very little sleep and trials both physical and emotional, I slept for a good fifteen hours. For much of that, I dreamed. Many dreams, many people, many emotions; past and present, real and imagined. I held to the memory of the dream for long enough to let the lessons burn into me. Then I let it fade, as dreams are meant to do (too many forget this part...forgetting and fading has a great and needed purpose). One lesson in particular, one that haunts me as much as it supports me; one that I curse as often as I praise...it came to me in these words:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even if it's everything I've ever wanted, I won't accept it if it's not real.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suppose I could elaborate, but the details are decade-spanning in both the timeline of my life and possibly in the telling. :) Suffice it to say, my course remains as it was: Sight to see the way, Patience to wait for the right moment, Courage to act when that moment comes...and Will to hold all three. Every aspect of my life is governed by this. But sometimes...like the song above, like the dream within...I wish it could be different.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-254890495126809644?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/254890495126809644/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=254890495126809644' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/254890495126809644'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/254890495126809644'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2007/09/beautiful-mistake.html' title='the beautiful mistake'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-3847936437959858314</id><published>2007-08-24T18:43:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-24T19:07:59.783-07:00</updated><title type='text'>mixed bag</title><content type='html'>So, I've noticed that every 2-3 days seems to be my current pattern of posting. Seems like a pretty good clip, especially considering the lengthy nature of most of my blog entries. :) This has been a rather intense and eventful 48-plus hours, however...and while I have been writing plenty, and have many things 'on the burner', I don't have the time to lay out any wordy or elaborate compositions (It's not like I labor over my blog entries; most of them are stream-of-thought. Still, I do take time to formulate and edit them for sense-making...hmm, maybe that will be my new blog motto..."Formulated and edited for sense-making." :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That being said, here's a small collection of things I've said or read lately:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- http://www.newyorker.com/reporting/2007/08/20/070820fa_fact_page?printable=true&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Long article in the New Yorker. Take the time to read it. Read the words, and read between the lines. Read the human being in the words. Wonderful piece, and an insight into both my race's humanity, and my own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- "The man who listens to Reason is lost: Reason enslaves all whose minds are not strong enough to master her."  - G.B. Shaw&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Read that quote, combined it with the Reason &amp; Passion chapter of The Prophet, and realized that I master my Reason with my Passion, and I master my Passion with Reason. It's pretty much the ideal marriage; one where each element brings about the perfect form of the other. Too much to ask for in a human partner? Maybe...but I'm still asking. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- I find a life of open seeking to be far preferable to a life of clever hiding. (if it doesn't have quotes, it's my own words...said this to a new friend in an email; realized how much I meant it...made me happy to see that :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- So strong where we ought to be so fragile, and so fragile where we ought to be so strong... (ah, the bittersweet misguided strivings of life...we miss so much)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- “The core of my writing is not art but truth. Thus what I tell is the truth, yet I can do nothing to alleviate it, either by deed or explanation.”  - Phillip K. Dick&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I ever do become a writer, managing to produce actual works of literariness (wow...that's a word...sweet! :), this will pretty much be me. This is pretty much me now (those of you that know me well can testify). I am strangely comforted by this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- I think arrogance is believing that you are strong in all things, where confidence might be better described as knowing both your strengths and your weaknesses with equal intimacy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Systems cannot reconcile paradox. People can. Yet we continue to pursue a purely systemic solution to so many of the world's problems, mistakenly believing that human beings are the weak link. This is wrong. We are the strongest link.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- The mistake people make is in doing for themselves what they ought to do for others, and doing for others what they ought to do for themselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- There is no greater challenge than to have someone relying upon you; no greater satisfaction than to vindicate (their) expectation."  - Kingman Brewster&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Delightfully, terrifyingly true. I am beginning to live my life to this. Very scary. Very exciting. And to call it rewarding would be a gross understatement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- It is easier to believe in one's own ignorance than in one's own cowardice. [When someone tells me they don't know something (about themselves or their situation; or life), I usually can look at them closely and see that it's not that they don't know, it's that they don't want to know...and that is cowardice.]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most of this is from one of my 'digital Memo Books'. I keep a number of text files on my computer that I add to regularly. Many of the better thoughts and ideas from my Memo Book end up here eventually. I keep myself fairly distributed. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enjoy your weekends.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-3847936437959858314?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/3847936437959858314/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=3847936437959858314' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/3847936437959858314'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/3847936437959858314'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2007/08/mixed-bag.html' title='mixed bag'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-3721145201440536244</id><published>2007-08-21T17:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-21T17:45:53.980-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Babel's Tower</title><content type='html'>From a blog I ran across recently:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Whenever I start to get a little down on the Church, God always does something to remind me of the blessings in Kingdom living. Last night was one of those times. Last night my family was sharing a final meal together before my sister begins a two week round of chemo treatments that will take her very close to death. It is a dark time for our family in that we lost my brother to suicide two years ago and my sister lost her husband in a four wheeler accident a few months back. The thought of my sister going through this battle has been difficult for all of us.&lt;br /&gt;As we were eating, my dad thought he saw someone outside the dining room window. He went to look out and as he did, burst into tears. He fell on the floor crying. We all went to the window to see that my parents house was surrounded by our church family. They were all holding hands and praying. When they finished, they quietly returned to their cars and left. Wow! I cannot begin to explain the flood of emotions that came over me. It is so good to be living in the Kingdom. As we deal with all of the junk of this world, our Heavenly Father lovingly reminds us that He is still in control and He is still love."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This got me thinking about a point that is very...touchy. Controversial. Difficult. Powerful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is not the power of God at work, it is the power of humankind. The Church here, and its God, are merely the unifying idea. The real point here is how, when we are united on a thing, we can accomplish the wonderful. The impossible. I often wonder if we attribute such things to God or gods because we are deeply and profoundly afraid of our own power. Because if we are the ones doing these things, if we possess such potency in life...then the failure to accomplish and achieve is our own, and no one else's. The Christian, Muslim and Jewish religions even have a perfect example of this, a story that speaks to the frightening power of our race: The Tower of Babel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Genesis 11:1 Now the whole world had one language and a common speech.&lt;br /&gt;2 As men moved eastward, they found a plain in Shinar and settled there.&lt;br /&gt;3 They said to each other, "Come, let's make bricks and bake them thoroughly." They used brick instead of stone, and tar for mortar.&lt;br /&gt;4 Then they said, "Come, let us build ourselves a city, with a tower that reaches to the heavens, so that we may make a name for ourselves and not be scattered over the face of the whole earth."&lt;br /&gt;5 But the LORD came down to see the city and the tower that the men were building.&lt;br /&gt;6 The LORD said, "If as one people speaking the same language they have begun to do this, then nothing they plan to do will be impossible for them.&lt;br /&gt;7 Come, let us go down and confuse their language so they will not understand each other."&lt;br /&gt;8 So the LORD scattered them from there over all the earth, and they stopped building the city.&lt;br /&gt;9 That is why it was called Babel —because there the LORD confused the language of the whole world. From there the LORD scattered them over the face of the whole earth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why? What is the point of this story? Is it that God will punish our arrogance? Punish the acts of our unity? No, such a thing is petty and pointless. However, consider how a parent will keep their children from all manner of things that are, at the time, a danger. They are dangerous only because a child is young, and does not know how to use them. A stove, a car, a bottle of wine, a movie, a piece of art...parents shield their children from things that someday they will encourage them to embrace. But right now, they can only do harm. And what is a God to most people but a Parent?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now consider this passage, again from early Genesis...the myth of our beginnings, according to three of the largest religions ever to exist:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3:22 - And the LORD God said, "The man has now become like one of us, knowing good and evil. He must not be allowed to reach out his hand and take also from the tree of life and eat, and live forever."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This passage is the cause of much head-scratching for theologians, for a number of obvious reasons that I will not go into here. However, there is one thing I would like to propose from both this and the Tower of Babel myth. Consider that God, if God is the God that many monotheistic religions believe in, is not attempting to keep us from achieving something...rather, God may be guiding us to the achieving of our full potential. Let me also propose this: both the Knowledge of Good and Evil and the Eternal Life are our destiny...otherwise, why the Trees in the first place? Let me propose Unity as our natural state, as what we are &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;meant &lt;/span&gt;to be. Let me say that, even on our own, we can accomplish great and powerful things...miracles, even. But together...Together, we can become something More. Together, we can ring a house of sadness and bathe it in the light of our love. How simple a gesture, and how powerful. How human.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a time when I readily attributed all good things to God and all bad things to human mistake. Now? I'm considering some bold and scary ideas about how powerful we really are. How responsible for our fates. I'm considering that maybe we make Gods not because we need their strength, but because we fear our own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder...but for now, I feel that the Tower of Babel, the reaching to Heaven...we came to it too soon, but maybe the time for such reaching is close at hand. To be perfectly honest, my life now is a reaching and a waiting. What am I waiting for? Well, one of two things: Either I will grasp Heaven, or I will get my hand slapped away. Both results will tell me everything I need to know. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I encourage you to ponder this idea, and these passages, and tell me what you think. Human potential, divine existence and divine presence, the division of language and thought, the results of a re-uniting, etc. This is an area in which I am very much in-flux. I have so many questions and so many thoughts. I need help, and crave it. Because I know one thing if I know anything:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are none of us meant to be alone; we are all of us meant to be together.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-3721145201440536244?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/3721145201440536244/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=3721145201440536244' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/3721145201440536244'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/3721145201440536244'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2007/08/babels-tower.html' title='Babel&apos;s Tower'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-6373975171969472215</id><published>2007-08-18T16:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-18T16:45:12.344-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Formless Love (a mini-rant)</title><content type='html'>One of my greatest frustrations and deepest disappointments with humanity:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We sometimes spoil what should be a boundless love by forcing upon it a preconceived form. We too often tell ourselves what our feelings are, rather than feeling them, and letting them be what they are. That is not to say that emotion should be given a free and unchecked hand. As The Prophet tells us, Reason and Passion are natural mates. But out of our fear, we hobble the passions and loves in our lives, lest they run away with us and take us to places we've never been before. Scary places. Wonderful places.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Parent, sibling, lover, friend, mate, child, teacher, student...each person in my life bears with them many different combinations of these loves for me. I have as many ways to love a person as there are people. Plain and simple. I pour my love out, like water, and let the vessel choose its shape. I find that there is no other way to love. Anything else is simply vanity and control, shot through with fear. If we dared to love anyone but ourselves, if we let our love take any shape other than our own, might we not lose ourselves? Shouldn't we be losing ourselves? Isn't that love? Love lets go as surely as it takes hold.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I look at people around me and I watch them pretend to love someone while only loving themselves, posing and preening in the mirror they see in that person. I've watched so many relationships wither and die in the playing out of preconceived notions, hearts petrified to dare anything more. I see the love we ought to be sharing with each other, and I see it wasted...shoved into tiny boxes and delivered like so much mail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must sound like a trippie hippie or something, with all my talk of love as the solution to all our problems and a lack of love as the cause of all our ills. :) So be it. I know what I see. I know what I feel. I know what I think. And I'm beginning to see what works. Formless love works. Dare to let a love be what it wants to be, what it craves to be, what it needs to be. The rest will take care of itself.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-6373975171969472215?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/6373975171969472215/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=6373975171969472215' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/6373975171969472215'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/6373975171969472215'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2007/08/formless-love-mini-rant.html' title='Formless Love (a mini-rant)'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-2531358584625247615</id><published>2007-08-15T13:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-15T13:34:37.594-07:00</updated><title type='text'>the answer to a question</title><content type='html'>In 'the trouble with mirrors', a post from a number of weeks ago, I talked about my desire to be a transparent mirror. The concept encapsulates the way in which I wish to be both a way for people to see themselves, and remain perfectly open and visible to others. At the time, no metaphor occurred to me to describe this state, which furthered my feelings that I may be trying for something that was impossible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How silly. How foolish. How blind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let the record show that I am an idiot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The answer, as plain, simple and beautiful as the dawn, is water. Think about all the properties of water...it is the lifegiver, the cleanser, the shaper (and with not a small amount of gentle irony, the baptizer). It can be a crystalline window into an otherwise invisible world, or it can show you with startling clarity the details of your own self. Water can move with both great stillness and depth, or furious force and strength. Water is everything that I want to be, but thought was impossible. Water is the contradiction that makes more sense than any other truth. Water is life, the life I want to live.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I see now even more clearly why the oceans and the seas mean so much to me, though I have never dwelled with them at length...why I recently referred to the ocean as being every risk I've never taken. The sea is every truth I've ever stared at, but never seen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I live for the moments when life reveals itself to you in such a playfully profound way, like a child bringing you a pretty shiny thing they found on the beach. Its value lies not in its preciousness, but in its pure beauty...and in the smiling joy found on the face of that child. Reminds me of the story of the Fisher King. Years ago, I posted it to an old incarnation of this blog. Reading it again, it resonates with everything I'm saying and feeling here. I'll close with that: (directly quoted from the fantastic Terry Gilliam movie, The Fisher King)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did you ever hear the story of the Fisher King?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It begins with the King as a boy, having to spend the night alone in the forest to prove his courage so he can become King. Now while he's spending the night alone, he's visited by a sacred vision. Out of the fire appears the Holy Grail, symbol of God's divine grace. And a voice said to the boy, "You shall be keeper of the Grail, so that it may heal the hearts of men." But the boy was blinded by greater visions of a life filled with power and glory and beauty. And in this state of radical amazement, he felt for a brief moment not like a boy, but invincible...like God. So he reached in the fire to take the Grail, and the Grail vanished, leaving him with his hand in the fire to be terribly wounded. Now as this boy grew older, his wound grew deeper, until one day...life for him lost its reason. He had no faith in any man, not even himself. He couldn't love, or feel loved. He was sick with experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He began to die.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day, a Fool wandered into the castle and found the King alone. Being a Fool, he was simple-minded. He didn't see a King...he only saw a man alone, and in pain. And he asked the King, "What ails you, friend?" The King replied, "I'm thirsty, I...I need some water to cool my throat." So the Fool took a cup from beside his bed, filled it with water, and handed it to the King. As the King began to drink, he realizes his wound was healed! He looked in his hands and THERE was the Holy Grail, that which he sought all of his life! He turned to the Fool and said with amazement, "How could you find that which my brightest and bravest could not?" The Fool replied, "I don't know. I only knew that you were thirsty."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I only know that we are thirsty.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-2531358584625247615?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/2531358584625247615/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=2531358584625247615' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/2531358584625247615'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/2531358584625247615'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2007/08/answer-to-question.html' title='the answer to a question'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-4879740197955599645</id><published>2007-08-12T09:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-12T10:30:04.392-07:00</updated><title type='text'>200!</title><content type='html'>Wow, was yesterday a good day. It was Day 6 of my current fast, which is usually a pretty good day anyway. I was feeling energetic and positive. I've been writing quite a bit, and self-expression always makes life move much more freely and lightly. Work was going very well. It was one of those shifts where I work alone the whole day (with no supervision, hehe :). I just have certain things I have to accomplish before the end of my shift, and I get to go about doing it in whatever way and whatever order I please. Nothing like a little autonomy to brighten a day even more. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, so I'm walking around the warehouse, having just finished a good chunk of my tasks for the day. I turn and what do I see but a scale for weighing pallets. I think to myself, "Hmm...I haven't weighed myself in a number of months, I've been biking and working out quite a bit over the last two months, and I'm well into a fast. I wonder what I weigh?" Knowing that the scale is well-calibrated, I decide to go over and give it a shot. I take off my steel-toed boots, get on and see what happens. What number comes up? That's right, 200. Two-hundred pounds. For about two-and-a-half years, that number has been a goal of mine. I don't put too much stock in numbers like that, and my overall goal has always been health and fitness. But still, that has been a magic number for me; the weight I thought would be perfect for my height and the size I want to maintain, the weight around which the rest of my fitness would revolve. And now...here I am. It just felt so...Good. I called a bunch of people, just because I needed to share. :) To have, so early in my Year 2, achieved such an important and symbolic goal...it just speaks of all the great things to come. :) Smileys everywhere! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To cap off the evening, I rode my bike home from work, changed clothes, and then rode to a show at Mississippi Studios. Horse Feathers and John Weinland. Tickets were sold out when I arrived, but I waited in the SRO line, just to see if I got lucky. Turns out I did. :) I met two wonderful people, James and Bonnie. We sat and talked for about 40 minutes, then we ended up being three of only five people who got into the show. We sat next to each other in this awesome little raised bench/alcove in the back of the room (this place is pretty small and intimate...a VERY good place to see a show like this). John Weinland was funny and talented and multi-dimensional. It's actually a band of five guys, playing everything from the mandolin and cello to the banjo and xylophone. Between shows, I talked with my new friends some more. We talked about our lives and the world and music and politics and restaurants and books. It's such a wonderful feeling, making friends. :) Then, Horse Feathers came on. I can only describe them as being like a spider's web. Soft, delicate...gossamer, even. So compelling, they pull you in so easily and hold you so gently. But then there is strength and power and an energetic grace. And then they kick it up another level. Frenetic and swirling. But the whole time, so melodic. There was never a point in the whole show where they didn't have me completely at their mercy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the show, I exchanged numbers and emails with my new friends, thanked both bands profusely, bought a couple of CDs (couldn't help myself :), and rode my bike home. All told, the 11th of August was a very good day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I slept like a newborn.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-4879740197955599645?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/4879740197955599645/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=4879740197955599645' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/4879740197955599645'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/4879740197955599645'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2007/08/200.html' title='200!'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-3752438243027335040</id><published>2007-08-09T11:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-09T11:28:00.090-07:00</updated><title type='text'>From the Memo Book, Part Two</title><content type='html'>Here's a chunk of stuff from the 'slips of paper' section of my Memo Book. These are older, and even more raw. With some of them, I'm just playing with words and ideas that I really don't subscribe to, but am curious about the formation of. That might make more sense once you read some of them. :) In exploring such things, I tend to 'put on' the persona of someone that I might imagine thinks and feels such things. It's a little dangerous, and I have fallen prey to these 'constructs' in the past. But such questing is near the heart of everything I do in life. My empathy and understanding of people is my most treasured asset. But as with all treasures, it must not be hoarded and kept safe, but risked and spent. I believe there's a parable about that very concept. Never throw the baby out with the baptism water...or something like that. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- From a conversation between two characters about getting some quick money:&lt;br /&gt;"You could always spare-change..."&lt;br /&gt;"If I wanted to profit off of people's guilt, I'd start a church. Better business model."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- "There is only one truly philosophical problem, and that is suicide."  - Albert Camus, regarding what Kurt Vonnegut (from here on referred to as KV) called, "the bummer of being human."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Just because you don't get it doesn't mean I'm not right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- ...cut from the same cloth, but woven into a different pattern...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- The only proof KV ever needed of God was music. Hesse saw music and math as mating on the path to enlightenment and utopia. Are music and math the proof of our developing divinity?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Store-bought humility: The kind you don't make or grow for yourself, but acquire from a place that sells such merchandise, like a church. Churches, in fact, offer a two-for-one deal on guilt and absolution. It's like the Wal-Mart of the soul. One-stop shopping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- "There are two sorts of artists, one not being in the least superior to the other. But one responds to the history of his or her art so far, and the other responds to life itself." -Saul Steinberg, by way of KV (In my mind, if I follow this, I see that art is a response and not an origin. All art, no matter how derivative or inbred, leads naturally back to life. )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- "What you respond to in any work of art is the artist's struggle against his of her limitations." -Saul Steinberg, by way of KV&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- "I think that novels that leave out technology misrepresent life as badly as Victorians misrepresented life by leaving out sex." -KV&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Formula for poetical phrase: (verb)s an (adjective)(noun). For example, "swirls an electric maelstrom" or "dances an easy rapture".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- My words, my language...they are my eyes and my hands. They are how I shape the world, and how I am shaped in turn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Happiness is a decision, not a condition.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Eventually, I got tired (and saw the folly of) living out my parents' faults, and trying to make up for their mistakes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Those who love deeply, love dangerously.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- There is no prescription, no law, no discipline that can, alone, save our lives from decaying into absurdity and moral corruption. We need a passion, an active love, for truth and beauty (which I do not uncouple). We must not allow ourselves to observe only a form. We must embrace the marriage of form and function. (Next to this, I drew a triangle. At its points were the words Art, Inspiration, and Action...curious)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Preservation might be our greatest mistake. All life, all knowledge, all expertise is meant to pass away at the end of its purpose. Everything born is meant to die. The Archive, the Mausoleum, the Monument, the Photograph...these frozen moments are prevented from achieving their highest state: Death. Why do we spend so much of our lives trying to preserve the things that have passed? (note - I don't really agree with myself here. this is a very incomplete thought, as it stands. I know there is some truth to it, but it's not true on its own)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Pretentiousness is allowable when the pretense it outlines follows to its pertinent place. (this was me having fun BSing at a coffeehouse :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- (This one makes me laugh at myself :) I take ideas, pluck them from the Ether, and pull them down to me and beat them and pound them on my anvil of thought until they are sharp pointy things...then I fall on them. Sometimes trip, but always fall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Humanity is the animal that our consciousness is riding to its next stop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- "A man who has been able to ennoble his fear by transforming part of it into awe has gained a great deal."  - Hesse&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Take a lesson from the phoenix: you're gonna burn. It's how you rise from those ashes that makes you who you are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- "A successful marriage doesn't necessarily last until you're dead."  - Ellen Barkin (regarding Gabriel Byrne)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, there's pretty much everything from the current Memo book. There are PLENTY of past notes, as I go through one of these every few months. I also have a couple of other ideas that are in pre-Memo form. Those will probably go straight to the blog this weekend, if time permits. It feels really good to be writing and expressing again. Not that I stopped, but I sort of...narrowed my field, for a little bit. Thanks to everyone who bothers to read all this. If I don't say it to you often enough, you should know that it means a great deal to me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-3752438243027335040?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/3752438243027335040/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=3752438243027335040' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/3752438243027335040'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/3752438243027335040'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2007/08/from-memo-book-part-two.html' title='From the Memo Book, Part Two'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-78307793037099921</id><published>2007-08-07T21:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-07T21:30:47.410-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Portland, Year 2: What Is To Come</title><content type='html'>So, on to the future. To put it mildly, I have quiet a few plans and goals for this next Portland year. It's certain that I will fail to accomplish some of them, but why should that stop me from trying? Failure in such endeavors should never be a disappointment, but an encouragement. In life, I have decided to become someone who risks, who dares. I once told someone that there can be no love without risk. Thinking about that, and thinking about the way I want my life to be one long act of love...well, I'll take Life's leave to be bold. :) So here's a starter list of the things I'd like to do in Portland Part 2: (note - You might notice that many of these are outgrowths of the things I accomplished in Year 1. I'm both building on past success and daring new endeavors. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Bike to the Oregon Coast: I already know I love the coast, and will be spending a lot more time there. I also love to ride. Now, I want to get into a good enough riding shape to go out to the Pacific Coast from Portland (about 100 miles), spend the day/night there, and ride back. I don't think I can get into shape fast enough this year, before the rainy season settles in, but I'm certain I'll be there by the time things dry out enough. Training for what effectively amounts to a double-century should be pretty intense. I"m looking forward to the challenge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- A License: I'm not sure which I want more, a driver's license or a motorcycle license. But I want to get at least one of them this year. Learning to drive a forklift, and getting a strong urge to take one long last road trip across the country, has begun to stoke my fire. I don't know if I'll ever own a car, though. I like very much where my life as a pedestrian has led me. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- The Calendar: Some of you have heard about this, and I won't go into all the details here. I made a joking promise to a good friend of mine that I'd provide her with a sexy calendar of me by the end of the year. Fireman outfits, compromising poses, etc. I've decided to actually try and get this done, and send it to her for Christmas. I've also decided to use this potentially-excellent joke as a time-driven reason to get into really good shape. I've been working more on a "slowly-but-surely" timeline, but this is just what I needed to get serious about it. We'll see how it goes. ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Writing: I've decided that it's high time for me to conceive of, sketch out and write a complete work of some sort. A small short story or poetry collection. Maybe even a small novel. I don't know what form it will take, but I've been playing at the edges of it for quite a while now. Also, I've written more in my first Portland year than I have in many of the years preceding. Now seems like the time. This blog is a good part of that. I hope to use it as a sketchboard of sorts. (Note - my goal is not to get published, although I would certainly welcome the opportunity. My concern with this goal is to birth a complete thing, rather than pieces.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Language: I will learn to speak one new language conversationally this year. I'm leaning towards Italian. I have learning materials in enough quantity to make this happen. It embarrasses me that I am still a mono-lingual individual. I hope to make this a semi-continual yearly goal, so that by the time I get through my 30s, I will know 5 or more languages well enough to speak them conversationally. My reasons for this are many, but most important of them all is my desire to find connection with everyone. To communicate with and receive from as many of the world's people as I can. "All under heaven" is my edict. (ask me about the movie Hero if you want to know about that)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Relationships: I am determined to get into a romantic relationship this year. I know that's a weird kind of 'goal' to have, but it's been over two years since my last relationship. I'm more than ready to be in one again. I'm not really sure what form I want it to take, but I'm definitely not interested in running through the 'hot young coeds' that are all over this town. I'm looking for a woman, not a girl. This sort of narrows the field a bit. :) Still, I am determined. Not only will I have to start looking harder, I'll have to start looking smarter. I'll also have to open myself to more opportunities. Most times, I come off poorly in first impressions, as I am often in my own world. I need to improve on this anyway. One thing I'm afraid of on this one is that I will force something, and get into a relationship I have no business being in. It's a risk, but it's one I'm willing to take. I will trust my instincts and my standards to keep me safe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Debt: For the first four months I lived in Portland, I didn't work. It was awesome. :) Then, after getting a job, I continued and expanded on the lifestyle I was living. I carried some friends of mine financially for a while. Drinks and food and social stuff, help with rent, bills, etc. All money well spent, I have to say, as the experiences bought were worth the price. But now, it's time to get all that back under control. My goal here is to, by August 1, 2008, be in a place financially where I can not only leave Portland, but leave the country. That's not to say that I'll be leaving right then. But I want to be ready. I want the reason I stay in a place or go to a place to be completely untied from such mundane debts. If I stay, it will be because there's a damn good reason. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Travel: In spite of those fiscal goals, I'd like to take a large chunk of time this year to travel around the country. If possible, something more than a month. No work, just trains, buses, planes, family and good old friends. There's a lot of this country I'd still like to see, and I'd really like to take the time to see it. Depending on the timing of things, it may even turn into a road trip with my own vehicle. Motorcycle tour , perhaps? :) I'd also like for some of my friends to join me for legs of the journey. There are still many details to plan for this, but I'd like it to happen this year. I'm not dead-set on it, though, and might wait a bit longer before embarking on this journey. Still, this will happen before I leave the country. A last goodbye, of sorts, if that's indeed what it turns out to be. As I often say, we shall see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Dance: Oh, yes. Kevin is going to learn to dance. I'm pretty horrible at it right now, and can barely manage to keep from looking ridiculous. I'd like to learn all manner of dances, from tango and swing to ballroom. It's one of those things I've always known I'd love, if I could just get past my silly old fears. Now seems like a good time to see to that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Eyes: Not sure about this one, but it merits placement here. I'd like to get laser eye surgery. I have insurance now, and I believe it covers a decent amount of the cost for this procedure. I really enjoy (more than I thought I would) wearing glasses. I think they even look pretty good on me. :) Still, I really don't like being so dependent on such a fragile thing for the clarity of my sight. Contacts really aren't a good solution, but if I can't pull off the Lasik, I'd consider downgrading the goal. This one depends a lot on cost, as well. If I had to choose between this and the road trip, I think I'd choose the road trip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Dental: Hehe...this one's a long time coming. I also have pretty good dental insurance. I also happen to have a TON of dental work that I've been putting off. I won't laundry list it all here, but suffice it to say that cost is also is a big determiner here. I just really want to take advantage while I have insurance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm, that's quite a list. I even left a number of the smaller things off. I have so much I want to do, and these are just the highlights. There's continued meditation and dreaming mastery, martial arts training, books I want to read, etc. I'd like to learn how to play Go well. Maybe get better at chess and poker. Train as a volunteer fireman. Get a tattoo. The list goes on. And I hope that the list always goes on. And I'm sure I'll add to this list as the year goes on. As the people close to me show me new things I want to discover in the world, or in myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It felt good to make this list. Very good. Now, I have a record of what my intentions are. Now, other people know what some of those are, and can keep me accountable. Call me on it if I'm slacking in achieving some of these goals. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the ever-and-ongoing aims for my life is openness. So, I'm going to go get started on the next entry from the Memo Book, otherwise known as My Ass. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-78307793037099921?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/78307793037099921/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=78307793037099921' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/78307793037099921'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/78307793037099921'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2007/08/portland-year-2-what-is-to-come.html' title='Portland, Year 2: What Is To Come'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-5330838539293879009</id><published>2007-08-04T21:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-05T22:18:43.614-07:00</updated><title type='text'>from the Memo book</title><content type='html'>Some of you know that for many years I have kept a small memo pad in my back pocket. I am rarely without it. It's as ever-present as the icepick I always carry, but that's a different sort of deal. Both are tools. Both are weapons. Applications differ.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My memo book contains all manner of things; newspaper clippings, phone numbers, to-do lists, story notes, quotes, plans, concerts/shows, websites, ideas, warehouse breakdowns (for work), etc. It's most significant use, however, comes from being a receptacle for my random unformed thoughts. In many ways, it is the starting point for some of my most important discoveries about myself and about life. I've decided I want to share some of them here, in their raw form. My hope is not only to continue their formation (and see if they need to be developed or discarded), but to get feedback from all 4.7 of you who read this blog. :) In a very real way, this blog functions as a way for me to be open and intimate with many of the people that mean something to me. If you read this at all, odds are I'm writing these things to share them with you, personally. If you are in a different state (of mind or the Union :), or just can't be around, or don't see me very often, this is how I want to maintain a level of closeness with you. Leave comments, email me, call me, talk to me. This kind of action is the best and only way I know how to grow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, onto the random thoughts, straight from the back pocket (it is oddly appropriate, the location of the memo book, as you will see that I am often talking out of my ass here):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Someone once asked me what I would want if I could have any one thing. I said Sight. The first thing I was shown was that I chose wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Urges, hungers, cravings, lusts...all my Desire...in my life I endeavor to one thing always: to fully possess my Desire, so that it never possesses me. I think I'm building a strange marriage within myself between Asceticism and Hedonism.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- A friend of mine (one of the true ones) once looked at how I'd changed in appearance, with the glasses and goatee/beard and the ponytail; with the love of intellect and the Ascetic approach to life and the wandering spirit I'd developed. He dubbed me The Rogue Scholar. I, being me, immediately liked that term. I feel sometimes like a Ronin; no master, no home, but fiercely loyal to life and the way I live it. I serve masters of my choosing, because for now Mastery is not my calling. I am a servant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Never confuse fact with certainty. They are cousins, at best.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Love, like truth, is a vector, not a point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- (taken from a drunken conversation...and yes, I said this :) Sex is just like riding a bike. Except sometimes the bike rides you. Or gives you head. I love bikes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- "I don't feel enjoyment watching films that evoke passivity. If you need that kind of comfort, I don't understand why you wouldn't go to a spa."  -Park Chanwook&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Do not allow the fact that I carry it well deceive you into believing that the burden is not heavy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- It is never wise to borrow from the future or the past to pay for the present. We live enough of our lives in debt as it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- ...give me strength to handle the truth that brings joy, with courage and belief to bridge the gaps between.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm...there's more stuff in here than I realized. I will have to do a Part 2 after I do the Portland Year Two blog. Maybe I'll run a regular 'From the Ass of Kevin' series of postings. Yeah, sounds like a plan. :) Next blog project? The big Year 2. In starting that one, I realized that I have quite a few ambitions for this next year. Bring it on, baby.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-5330838539293879009?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/5330838539293879009/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=5330838539293879009' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/5330838539293879009'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/5330838539293879009'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2007/08/from-memo-book.html' title='from the Memo book'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-734856127870008133</id><published>2007-08-01T12:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T21:40:14.566-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Portland, Year 1, In Review</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_o_Qa6z4ddXg/RrDiTp5YomI/AAAAAAAAAAM/mRqY4ipmi1w/s1600-h/meeting+the+ocean.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_o_Qa6z4ddXg/RrDiTp5YomI/AAAAAAAAAAM/mRqY4ipmi1w/s320/meeting+the+ocean.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093820005847966306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, one year in Portland. It's a little hard to believe. Then again, I'm not much for the calendar view of time. A day is not a grid square, a time of day is not an angle of hands. I subscribe more to the cyclical nature of things. Risings and settings, seasons passing. So the end of this first year, and the beginning of the next, is significant for me...mostly because I choose for it to be significant. :) In light of that, I'm going to attempt a round-up of all the things I've done this year in my new home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- I learned to drive...a forklift. It's incredible, I know. :) I still have never had a driver's license, or owned a car. I've barely even driven a car, ever. But I'm getting pretty good with a forklift now. When I moved here, I decided not to get an office job. I decided to go away from all my previous experience and try something else. I wanted the job to be physical, and wanted to do something that would scare me a bit. So I got a job at a warehouse. It has turned out even better than I thought it would. I have a technically part-time job that pays me well and gives me all the hours I need. I get full benefits, learned to drive a forklift (and riding pallet jacks...also really fun :), and have a surprising flexibility of schedule. I'm even in the process of being trained/promoted for higher responsibilities (they trust me now to run the warehouse alone...heehee :). All this from a job that I had pretty much ZERO related experience for. Feels good. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- The books I've read. Siddhartha and The Glass Bead Game were revelations. Fragile Things was a delight, as was Pattern Recognition. Burgess and Hempel and Rilke and Stoppard and Beckett and Palahniuk and Drake and all the rest. But beyond the many books I read, even more exhaustive and compelling was all the research I did on the Web this year. I spent, literally, DAYS at a time sitting in coffee shops, absorbing all manner of materials. Certain very close friends of mine can attest to how long and how often I was hunched over my laptop, reading, typing, cutting and pasting, reading some more, writing in little notebooks. So many 24-48 hour sessions of brain-filling good times. :) Truthfully, though, I have expanded my mind and my base of knowledge more in this last year than I have in a long time. I feel more capable of becoming...more capable, smarter, sharper, more useful as a human. I'm looking forward to everything I'll learn this year. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- The movies. Well, I've seen quiet a few, and some of them were truly special. But there was one this year that was something...different. You might guess what movie I'm speaking of. It is The Fountain. I won't go into it all again here, but read my blog or talk with me about it if you want to know why that movie is now on my Top Five of all-time. Death is the road to awe. Finish it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- The weight. This may come as a bit of a surprise to those who have known me only recently, but I am currently at a 16-year-low with my weight. I weigh less now that I did in my freshman year of high school. I'm in many ways in the best overall shape and health of my life. I'm rebuilding a lot of looooong-forgotten muscle (I've been bulkier, but that too was in HS :), and am training back up to my 100+ miles per week riding shape. While I know that the weight is really just a number, and the health of my body is the important part, I can't help but be excited by it. :) It's strange to even think, but it is fairly likely that, in less than two months, I will break the 200lbs-barrier. I don't know about you, but 6'3" 195lbs sounds pretty damn fine to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- There is, of course, the move to Portland itself. I've spoken and written of this before, but it bears mentioning again. Coming here was once of the best things I've ever done in my life. I left a place that had become home, left a situation that was certainly not bad. I left some good things behind...some friends and family, loved ones. I miss the desert like the pang of thirst. However, sometimes in life you must leave the good to dare the great. Portland, and life, have rewarded my faith. And while I expect to move again soon, Portland has become a new home for me. It is a place that will always have my heart, in part because it has taught me how to give it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- The sleep and the dream. Throughout my entire life, even in childhood, my sleep has been troubled. For my entire adult life, sleep has been a strange companion...close and immediate at some times, cold and distant at others. My dreams have been...intense, violent, horrifying, inspiring, heart-breaking...in short, powerful. For a very long time, I have been Restless...a tortured past and troubled present coiling me around me so tightly that for long stretches I don't think I breathed at all. But starting in the year before I left NM, and carrying through to Portland, I have begun to find real rest. I sleep like only the newborn and the dead do, on most days. I feel a measure of control, like the deep breathing of meditation. Sleep and wake and sleep and wake...dreaming all the while. Though I still fight and struggle with many things, and there are successes and failures, I have found a deep well of peace from which to draw...and to let others draw from, as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- The ocean. I have now greeted the Pacific Ocean. The ocean has always had a strange and compelling pull for me. Which is true for many people, but for me it's different, I think. I am a terrible swimmer. I have never sailed. The only type of vessel I've ever even been on (aside from a small fishing boat when I was young) is a ferry. And yet every experience I've had with the sea has been profound somehow. Standing on a cliff with arms spread wide, meeting the oncoming storm, the wind cutting me to the bone and my face split with a mighty grin. Walking along the beach, sand in toes, water lapping my ankles, feeling the power of the in-between places. When I met the Pacific for the first time, we greeted as though we were old friends who hadn't seen each other for ages; polite, warm, slightly distant, as though feeling each other out for that old shared place. As the day went on, and I saw more of the coast, our intimacy grew. Until finally I and my companion found a place...a wonderful, deserted beach. The sun was setting, the waves were strong and resolute. I was...called. I emptied my pockets, and I walked straight out into the waves (see the picture above...thank you, Laura). Up to my knees, my waist, my chest. The waves battered me, knocked me back. But their violence was gentle, like the embrace of a loved one much stronger and larger than you or I could ever be. One who knows their strength, but sometimes forgets your weakness in their exuberance. But I stood. I let the water hit me over and over and over. The freezing chill, the whipping wind, the taste of salt strong in my mouth. It was baptism. It was rebirth. Later, pondering that meeting, I realized a true thing about the path of my life. The sea and I, we are one. The ocean is every risk I've never taken. But now, my courage and my belief are so solid, so strong...there are many more meetings in my future. So much life to be embraced by. I feel as open as the sea itself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I've done quite a bit. Not really the kind of things you check off a list, but the kinds of things that change and shape the way you live your life. I'm more open. More free. "I laugh more often now, I cry more often now, I am more me." :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And because of this past year, I now have the eyes to see what's coming. I see what's in store for me in Year 2. In many ways, each of the above are the beginnings of things that will blossom in this next year. I have quite a list of things I'm going to do. But that's for a soon-to-appear blog entry. :) I've reflected enough for now on what has gone before. Now is the time to meet my future. It's big, it's scary, but I've got to tell you...I'm excited. I can't wait to see what the next year in Portland has in store for me. And what I have in store for it. ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-734856127870008133?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/734856127870008133/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=734856127870008133' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/734856127870008133'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/734856127870008133'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2007/08/so-one-year-in-portland.html' title='Portland, Year 1, In Review'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_o_Qa6z4ddXg/RrDiTp5YomI/AAAAAAAAAAM/mRqY4ipmi1w/s72-c/meeting+the+ocean.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-4416572720637175027</id><published>2007-07-31T12:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-31T12:09:55.352-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Last Ride</title><content type='html'>Forest Green Specialized Expedition. Hybrid. Purchased with blood money from Dunkin Donuts in 1997. It never had a name, and was androgynous during its travels with me. We rode all over Albuquerque, NM. All the trails, all the arroyos, along the river, into the foothills of the Sandias, all the back roads and scary streets. It even made the trip with me to Portland, to bear witness to the new life that's begun here for me. Three hundred dollars, cash (with occasional shell-outs for various repairs...grr... :). That was all it cost me to have this bike for ten years. Ten years, man! Ten! Ten years... (I freaked out, joined the army; I worked for the government, went into business with myself; I'm a professional killer! That's what I did! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grosse Pointe references aside, this bike has what I can only term as a deep "sentimental value". It's been a constant in a sea of change. It knew me when I worked at Dunkin Donuts, for cryin' out loud! It carried my fat ass across the desert like a mule without all the stubborn. For awhile, it got me to work every day. It showed me the beauty of the Rio Grande, and the bosque that frames it better than it deserves on most days. It carried me up from that same river into the foothills, on a day when my heart was in pieces, and my body was not far from it. I remember that ride well. Up that long hill, struggling against my weakness of limb and my weakness of heart. I got to the top, though. I made it. We made it. That ride began the process that has reforged me into the man I am today. That was also the last time I saw her (not the bike, but Her). For that day, and so many others, I thank my Forest Green Specialized Expedition. I knew you without name, which is the most intimate way to know anyone or anything. You simply Were, and that was enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About two years ago, I bought a road bike. A NICE one. Light, sleek, fast, sexy. If my old bike had feelings, I know it would have been hurt and jealous. But it understood. I had moved on. My needs were more than it could satisfy. I hadn't ridden it since I moved to Portland. It sat in the corner and watched me take out the new bike in my life. It's been time to move on for awhile, but today it finally happened. I fixed it up, got it into riding condition. I walked it down the stairs. I took it for its last ride. We rode across the river, up to Alberta St. Rode to the Community Bike Center, which has a donation system to get bikes to those in need; people who need transportation to work, people who can't even afford a used bike. I filled out the paperwork, gave one last long look at my old friend. As I tried to walk out the door, I felt a tug at my heart. All that history, all those memories. I turned. One last goodbye. And now it's gone from me forever. I hope it will bring as much to the life of its next owner as it brought to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every end is a new beginning, as they say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That said, I'll be working on two blogs next. One is a year-in-review, as tomorrow is my 1-year anniversary in Portland. Already a year! So much has happened. So much has passed. I'll try to finish that one today. To follow that one is Portland Year 2, A Prognostication. :) I want to lay out certain goals. Things I want to do, parts of myself I want to develop, people I want to meet and know. After that, I have a TON of random thoughts that I think I want to just roll into a blog-ball and throw at the Interweb. I'm trying to get more of my friends and family to read this blog, so maybe I'll try to get something a little more organized going. Maybe a side-blog that's a little less...personal. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-4416572720637175027?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/4416572720637175027/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=4416572720637175027' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/4416572720637175027'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/4416572720637175027'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2007/07/last-ride.html' title='Last Ride'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-2837944354769525430</id><published>2007-07-30T17:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-30T17:43:09.057-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cut my heart, and I will learn to sing</title><content type='html'>There are times, like right now, when I feel my loneliness like a weight around the neck...or perhaps a noose around the heart. Choking, gasping, wishing in some reptilian part of me that the fall had simply snapped and ended me. Anything instead of this wheezing and clawing and creeping cold. And then I read this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Be. And, at the same time, know what is NOT to be.&lt;br /&gt;That emptiness inside you allows you to vibrate&lt;br /&gt;in resonance with your world. Use it for once.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To all that has run its course, and to the vast unsayable&lt;br /&gt;numbers of beings abounding in nature,&lt;br /&gt;add yourself gladly, and cancel the cost."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guess who wrote that? Yeah, he's quickly joining Nietzsche in my pantheon of Smirkers and Smilers, with his constant appearances around the corners of my mind's path.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To have this said to me...now, when I've been going so far as to question the way I've chosen for myself...questioning all the emptiness inside me...and here comes the Poet, reminding me in a way that feels like the first time, that my power and my sight come in large part from the echo chamber that is my heart. That resonance (oh, how often I've used that word before!) that I sense when seeking the truth and beauty of life and love...that oneness I have been seeking all my life, since I've been old enough to seek...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...the oneness I seek is not the oneness of filling. I'm not looking for the missing pieces of my heart. My heart is full and complete as it is right now. It's just bowl-shaped. It's a vessel by its nature. It is meant to be filled and emptied. To catch and release, to deliver and to delve. To protect and shelter. "Use it for once," he says. I do...those of you that know me know that I do. But still, this exhortation...almost like a stern word from an elder brother. Use it. USE it...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am a fool for letting myself forget who I am. A willing fool, even, which is the worst kind. But I am getting myself back again. I lost myself for a spell. But the spell is passing, and I feel my strength returning. I will not stop seeking partnership...people, a person...to share with, to make common cause with. However I see now with a clearer eye and mind than ever before the nature of such a thing, as it would have to be for me. For now, I walk alone, giving and doing for those around me as best as I can. Sharing as much as I can with those who seek my sharing. Keeping myself from those who do not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel deeply the hard cut of the way things must be...the consequences of my choices, and the choices of others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so I will add myself gladly, and cancel the cost...beginning again, now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-2837944354769525430?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/2837944354769525430/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=2837944354769525430' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/2837944354769525430'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/2837944354769525430'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2007/07/cut-my-heart-and-i-will-learn-to-sing.html' title='Cut my heart, and I will learn to sing'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-5552362896434584075</id><published>2007-07-27T18:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-27T18:56:03.070-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Rilke</title><content type='html'>There is so much these sonnets make me feel. Make me think. Help me to know. In years past merely a comfort, the work of Rilke has become more even than inspiration. His work has becoming confirmation of certainty. Of a path well-chosen. Of a heart well spent, and still spending. Here are three that are of particular brilliance to me right now. Brilliance not of mind or skill, though they are that. More the brilliance of a light that illuminates the path.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sonnets to Orpheus, Part One, XII&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bless the spirit that makes connections,&lt;br /&gt;for truly we live in what we imagine.&lt;br /&gt;Clocks move alongside our real life&lt;br /&gt;with steps that are ever the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though we do not know our exact location,&lt;br /&gt;we are held in place by what links us.&lt;br /&gt;Across trackless distances&lt;br /&gt;antennas sense each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pure attention, the essence of the powers!&lt;br /&gt;Distracted by each day's doing,&lt;br /&gt;how can we hear the signals?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even as the farmer labors&lt;br /&gt;there where the seed turns into summer,&lt;br /&gt;it is not his work. It is the Earth who gives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sonnets to Orpheus, Part One, XXII&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We set the pace.&lt;br /&gt;But this press of time-&lt;br /&gt;take it as a little thing&lt;br /&gt;next to what endures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All this hurrying&lt;br /&gt;soon will be over.&lt;br /&gt;Only when we tarry&lt;br /&gt;do we touch the holy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Young ones, don't waste your courage&lt;br /&gt;racing so fast,&lt;br /&gt;flying so high.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See how all things are at rest-&lt;br /&gt;darkness and morning light,&lt;br /&gt;blossom and book.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sonnets to Orpheus, Part Two, XII&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Want the change. Be inspired by the flame&lt;br /&gt;where everything shines as it disappears.&lt;br /&gt;The artist, when sketching, loves nothing so much&lt;br /&gt;as the curve of the body as it turns away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What locks itself in sameness has congealed.&lt;br /&gt;Is it safer to be grey and numb?&lt;br /&gt;What turns hard becomes rigid&lt;br /&gt;and is easily shattered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pour yourself out like a fountain.&lt;br /&gt;Flow into the knowledge that what you are seeking&lt;br /&gt;finishes often at the start, and, with ending, begins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every happiness is the child of a separation&lt;br /&gt;it did not think it could survive. And Daphne, becoming a laurel,&lt;br /&gt;dares you to become the wind.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-5552362896434584075?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/5552362896434584075/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=5552362896434584075' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/5552362896434584075'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/5552362896434584075'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2007/07/rilke.html' title='Rilke'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-6710612520274597245</id><published>2007-07-24T13:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-27T18:51:08.521-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunshine...and light</title><content type='html'>This statement is from BLDGblog, in the context of a review for Danny Boyle's latest movie, Sunshine:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"In fact, for me, the film very brilliantly illustrates the paradox that something can be so powerful that the ability to experience it is simply beyond the limits of human life – outside of human experience altogether."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In an email response to the friend who sent me the link, I said:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...(this) is at the heart of of why I live the life the way I do, and is at the heart of nearly every lesson I have to teach anyone about anything. Look at addicts, for example. People who have so 'burned out' their capacity for experience that all they can feel is their need and their lack. They have hollowed themselves out. They are a puddle that was once a well (I'm not just talking about chemical or substance addicts...addiction take all manner of forms; school, work, people, entertainment...it takes all kinds). I seek to live a fuller and fuller life, and embrace all manner of challenges and hardships, and dare to love as big and as wide as I am able...not because I'm a masochist (:), but because I wish to expand my capacity for life. Yes, there are things that are currently outside the ability of a human to experience. But how much of that is our entire race simply underachieving? How much am I?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just wanted to share that. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-6710612520274597245?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/6710612520274597245/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=6710612520274597245' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/6710612520274597245'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/6710612520274597245'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2007/07/sunshineand-light.html' title='Sunshine...and light'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-8468496093330924917</id><published>2007-07-18T12:18:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-18T12:37:23.208-07:00</updated><title type='text'>a bit of culture</title><content type='html'>Yesterday, I spent my evening at the Portland Chinese Gardens, walking barefoot through the place while a brilliant Brazilian songstress sang soul-dancing lullabies to me. The concert performance was superb. The Gardens were beautiful as always. I walked around, feeling the place, my senses fully engaged. My mind cleared even more than it had been, and I saw things with a focused eye and easy heart. Wrote some very interesting things in my little memo book, too. I love having pen and pad wherever I go. My mind is always producing interesting things. It's good to get them out on paper, because I can look at them later and see if they're utter crap or actually useful. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the spirit-lifting show, I went to a Garden of a different sort. A Magic Garden. And other things were lifted. ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The capper to my night was watching two episodes of Firefly at the Mission Theater with a few hundred fans. The line wrapped AROUND the building to get in. it took over an hour to get food, but it was worth it. Good show, good people, good beer, good times. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I got some culture last night. And continued to gaining peace of mind and peace of heart. The presence of good friends, and the resiliency learned through years of trial have uplifted me. To borrow from a certain 'Maintenance' manual, my sense of Quality has sharpened. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My sense of where that Quality resides has also sharpened, which I can (for now) only view as a mixed blessing. C'est la vie...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-8468496093330924917?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/8468496093330924917/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=8468496093330924917' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/8468496093330924917'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/8468496093330924917'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2007/07/bit-of-culture.html' title='a bit of culture'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-4292302172686866201</id><published>2007-07-16T23:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-17T00:15:45.090-07:00</updated><title type='text'>fate is often kind, as well</title><content type='html'>Against all reasonable expectations, today was a truly wonderful day. Today I happened to talk to a number of very good friends, some of whom I hadn't talked to in a while. I talked with a few of my best and truest friends, as well. People who know me deeply, who have chosen to look behind the mirror. They helped me to right my ship. I feel so much more myself right now...more than I have in months, which is saying something, as my last few months have been overwhelmingly good, on the whole. But we can lose ourselves as easily in the good times as we can in the bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some of them fed me dinner and shared their company. Some of them talked with me about their own lives. Some of them simply lent an ear. One of them did for me what I often try to do for others...she stopped and listened to me, absorbed me, and told me all the things that I needed to hear. She helped me to see Me, as she so often has. She knows who she is, and I just want to say publicly (as public as this blog, anyway :) that she is a balm and a light to me, and knowing that we will always share each other's burdens in times of great need is one of my deepest and most abiding comforts. So seldom in life do we know that we have someone to lean on when our own strength is ebbing dangerously.  I know that I have that with you, and I thank you from the wells of my heart for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, enough sap. :) I've recently spent a great deal of expression on some of the more negative things in my life. And that was needed. The command to "Know Thyself" means that you have to look at everything; no dark corners, no under-rug-swepts. And I take that seriously. But now is a time to celebrate the positive. Leave behind the dark things and embrace the light ones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a difference a day makes. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-4292302172686866201?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/4292302172686866201/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=4292302172686866201' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/4292302172686866201'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/4292302172686866201'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2007/07/fate-is-often-kind-as-well.html' title='fate is often kind, as well'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7426029233071721226.post-4693857874316813871</id><published>2007-07-15T16:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-07-15T16:32:50.085-07:00</updated><title type='text'>the cost of a fool's words</title><content type='html'>I very rarely lose my temper. In fact, I haven't been fully angry in more than 13 years, and that was for a very special occasion. I have been very upset, certainly, but I let that out very rarely. I can count on one hand the number of times in the last 10 years that I let anger take hold of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not pretty...it's never pretty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Very recently, I let it out. I allowed my anger to take control of me and I said some very hurtful things to someone I care deeply for. The truth of these things in immaterial; pointless. I have said hurtful things to this woman before, but out of a deep well of compassion and friendship. I demand that of myself in all my close relationships...I remain closely wed to the truth, but never without an equal presence of compassion and love. However, my anger and my own hurt drove me to say terrible things to her. Since that moment, I have been wracked with guilt and remorse. And when I say 'wracked', I mean a complete inability to think about anything other than this for more than 30 seconds. I have a whirling pit of acid in my stomach. I didn't eat for nearly 24 hours. My sleep has been restless. My dreams, perilous. Since those words were exchanged, we haven't spoken. The idea that the last thing I said to her was in hurtful anger might be what's digging at me the most. I am so heavy with my desire to make amends, to repent my words...and if I have damaged our friendship...it will take me a long time to forgive myself for that. I will, because I am a determined individual in that way, and the life I've chosen to lead simply demands forgiveness, even of self (especially of self, for how else can I become the person who would never do such a thing again?).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the vacuum of our silence, my mind is free to imagine all manner of ill fates for this friendship. My mind is my enemy right now, because I cannot stop it from imagining what might happen. It is the coiled snake around my heart...choking, gasping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My pain is my penance. I must suffer this silence, because what I have done merits it. I will hold tightly to hope, and trust that what we have built is stronger than this. Words such as the ones I spoke to her have a subtle and frightful power, though, and I fear that if the silence extends, they will erode our foundation. So I must trust, but I must not complacently surrender. Oh, the knife's edge always cuts so sharply! So much easier to give oneself to either extreme. But I cannot let myself. I will not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's amazing what a person is capable of when they know with certainty what matters to them. This matters to me. She matters to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If she reads this, I want her to know that I am sorry. I am so sorry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...I normally don't blog about things that are quite this personal, but I crave transparency as much as reflection (as my previous post indicates). I am ashamed of myself. Let the small world that reads this know that. Secret shame is the worst shame, because in the dark it is not allowed to do its work and pass away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's get to work.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7426029233071721226-4693857874316813871?l=mirrorshadow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/feeds/4693857874316813871/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7426029233071721226&amp;postID=4693857874316813871' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/4693857874316813871'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7426029233071721226/posts/default/4693857874316813871'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mirrorshadow.blogspot.com/2007/07/cost-of-fools-words.html' title='the cost of a fool&apos;s words'/><author><name>smartyrmartyr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03886559566962746953</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
