Welcome to The Shadow Box

Eyes that burn cold

2010-08-04T20:48:00.000-07:00

There is a man with a gun in his hand
and a cigarette between his lips
long slow drag
and a caress of the triggers tip

long lanky build
and eyes that burn cold
a face that is nothing filled
a soul that's long been sold

He belongs to Babylon
a wayward child of the lost age
he is the face of forgotten youth
he is the form of abandoned adolescence

There is a man with a gun in his hand
and a cigarette between his lips
and if one more person looks through him
a flash and a bang
it will be the end of this

The Homosexual Rehtoric War (or crap I think about at work)

2010-07-31T12:38:00.000-07:00

When I was in California I found myself smack dab in the middle of the homosexual rhetoric war. I shuffle through common phrases and sayings in my day to day vernacular, i choose a word or phrase and generally it's something I say to be ironic but it becomes apart of how I talk for usually a few months. When I was in Cali I had recently adopted the term "I'm straight" as in "Do you want more water?" "Naw I'm straight thanks though."

In the gay capital of the world (San Fransico) this term was not well received. It didn't start a huge brawl or anything but I could tell by certain looks and off hand remarks that it wasn't appreciated. I did my best to stifle myself but at this point the term was just second nature and it kept spilling out.

My question now, years later when I have nothing better to think about, is what does it matter? I can understand the concern with the term "straight" being used as a substitute for the word "good" as well as a term used to describe heterosexuals, i get that logic, but what I don't understand is, if you are going to be that nit picky why on earth are you not as sensitive about the other words attached to sexuality that if examined, are just as offensive.
We will take the term "Gay" for starters. From what I understand the word gay means happy, it became a way to describe homosexuals when people where trying to discreetly make light of someone else's flamboyant nature. "He's a bit gay isn't he?" It evolved into a scarlet letter whispered in dark corners and eventually the homosexual community just took the word and made it there own. If anything the term Gay should be considered a pejorative if you are to consider it's roots.

Really the only term for Homosexuality that actually means homosexual is "lesbian". But how sexist is that? Women are singled out in the homosexual spectrum, not only is it more acceptable for women to display homosexual behavior, due to the hypocritical nature of our male driven media, but the word that specifically means "a homosexual woman" has nothing but positive connotations. You can't hear the word "lesbian" on television without expecting some implication of how hot it is. I am a firm believer that idealized western sexuality is a farce of true intimacy and sensuality, but it is the accepted expression of sexuality and lesbianism has been ushered into that lexicon with open arms. Any step towards total acceptance is a good step but if I where a gay man I would be pissed at the contradiction and if I where a woman I would be pissed at the perpetuation of male fantasy fulfillment being the exclusive language of our societies sexuality and how that attitude plays into objectifying or excluding entire groups of people.

Really the only word that hasn't been tainted by rhetoric is "bi-sexual" and really that is it's own brand of sexuality that has only obtained a real name in open society very recently.

So either you can accept that words change grow and evolve, or you can stop bitching to me about your rhetorical pseudo concern. Unless a word is clearly used as an inflammatory statement or widely accepted as a epitaph I think we should all calm the hell down.

to wonder or not to wonder

2010-07-26T12:42:00.001-07:00

your passion, the thing that drives you, the thing that, when you are lying awake at night you think about doing. Your guiding light, the force in your soul that screams for realization, the source of your true potential...or in other words...what gets you off.

We all have at least one, one thing that, if we were truly honest with ourselves, we would admit defines us. It isn't always vocational. Millions of people engage in there life long love while supporting themselves in other ways. Some people can't hold down a job unless it is something that drives them. Some folks just want to be married and have a family others wish they could become a recluse. My theory as a 20 something who knows almost nothing is that if you don't take a leap, if you don't try at least once to realize this thing inside of you screaming "CATCH ME!" you will never be as happy as you could be.

I can not imagine trying and failing is one bit worse than not knowing. Ask the people in your life who had dreams and set them aside for practicality and safety if they would do things differently. You know what they would say? "Well there isn't much use thinking about that now is there?" That is the sound of someone who has moved past there dream and settled for what they have now...which is not a bad thing. I realize this sounds harsh but this month one question has been pounding against my heart. Do I want to spend the rest of my life trying to forget the question "what if" because it is to painful to think about, or do I want to go through life knowing exactly what would have happened.

If I wake up in 30 years with a job that I didn't set out to have and a life I wasn't exactly shooting for I think I will sleep better knowing "I tried my best and this is the best I could do...and you know what? it isn't terrible." I would rather shoot for the moon and whined up amongst the stars than end up staring at the sky with longing. I rather touch the heavens and come crashing down to earth than spend my life never knowing what the divine feels like.

I'm writing this because it's how I'm feeling but I'm posting it because the more I talk to my friends, some who are shooting for the stars and some who are just aiming with there finger on the trigger, I realize that this is a message buried under a megaphone that is continually pumping out fear. Fear of loss, of instability, of destitution, fear of uncertainty.

Ask yourself what is the worst that could happen from you taking a running leap towards your dream, than ask yourself if not taking that chance is worse for you than the most negative of outcomes. Than think about what could happen if every hope you harbor is realized and figure out if you can live with the nagging "what if" tugging on your heart.

You answer those questions and I think you will know exactly what direction your life needs to take. Laying down a passion for practicality is not exactly a bad thing, people do it every day and are perfectly happy, but is that your path? Failure is a word given more respect than it rightfully deserves.

its not good I promise "Change"

2010-07-24T18:56:00.000-07:00

I have a new lap top and thus a new keyboard...we are going to get aquatinted and I'm inviting you to the show....

"Did you know..." said the old man with an empty rocks glass that was recently relieved of it's scotch "that when I was a young man I had the strength of an ox, the looks of an adonis and the charm of a devil." The young man behind the bar nodded politely as he silently decided if the old man had had enough. "In those days what I'm paying for these drinks could have gotten me a place to lie my head for a month and a dinner in the nicest diner in the city." The young man grabbed the scotch, smiled and rolled his eyes internally waiting for the rest of the old man's "the way things were" speech as he poured the old man's next double.

"I know every old bull says this about the young buck they are telling there story too but you remind me of myself at your age. Young, handsome, the world in front of him." The young man nodded again as he wondered if this war horse was hitting on him. "I had a million and one opportunities at my finger tips and I let them slip because the comfort of my situation was too tempting for me to take the leap. Didn't do me any good though, I didn't save enough for retirement and now I let my social security checks pay my monthly rent at a rent controlled apartment for the dead and the dying and my bar tab. I've saved up a lump sum but not enough to live comfortably and really you can't take it with you so what is the point? I ask myself."

The young man eyes the clock and wonders when this fool will stop talking so he can have his smoke break. "Yes, I was just like you and now I sit in my empty apartment and wonder every moment of every day 'what if?' I hate everyone in my life, and that isn't a lot of people, because every one of them reminds me of a face I knew, a face that filled with disappointment when I took all my talent, strength and charm and did nothing with it. I sit there and wait for the cancer to take me, every breath is a struggle and every moment is filled with regret"

The young man politely excused himself from the conversation. "Sir, I will be right back if you would like to continue this conversation but I really would like some fresh air." The young man steps into the crisp air slides a cigarette in his mouth, lights up and breaths deep. The old man walks out behind him. "Stop doing that." The old man said pointing at the bar tenders cigarette as he walks away. The young man shoots him a look, finishes his smoke and walks inside, he didn't care if the old man skipped out on the tab as long as his ear is safe from being talked off anymore.

The bar tender steps back behind the bar and looks at where the old man was sitting. there is a stack of bills, enough to cover his tab as well as a tip big enough to pay a month of rent with plenty of cash to spare. Next to the stack of bills is a card and a note. "Change, pay your last month, treat yourself to dinner and take the leap" is all the note said. The card was an ID, the young man felt his heart jump into his throat as he realizes that the old man had his name, but not just that, something about the drivers license number was familiar. He pulled out his own and realized that it was his number but that wasn't the only thing off. The room began to spin and the young man's vision blurred when he saw the birth date...it was his birth date. This man was easily 40 years his senior, how? The old man's words pounded in his skull "In those days what I'm paying for these drinks could get me..." Did he mean what they cost or what he was paying? "You remind me of myself..." The young man's heart is pounding in his chest.

The young man leaps over the bar bursts out side and looks down the street for the old man but he was gone. When the young man turned he saw a note on the door that read "AND STOP SMOKING YOU JACKASS!"

The young man grabs the money, leaves the bottle opener in his back pocket on the bar and goes for a walk in the opposite direction of the aged stranger with one word echoing in his mind as he tried to wrap his head around what just happened, one word carrying on the wind edging him towards the horizon..."Change..."

Kept

2010-05-15T10:26:00.001-07:00

I am in a zombie short called Kept. So if you want to see me get eaten alive check out the link...I highly suggest it.

http://nationundead.com/film/zone5kept

Religion Isn't Evil (return to the well)

2010-05-12T22:18:00.000-07:00

The decision

2010-03-23T00:46:00.000-07:00

A man in his long duster trench coat and jet black fedora hat stands at the edge of a gravel road. On the sides of this road are dirt fields and the wind is kicking up dust and gravel as far as the eye can see. The road is clear but the horizon is hazed.

The man stands at the end of this road staring into the great unknown trying to make his decision. On the one hand he can keep walking; he can travel down the road filled with unknown terrain. He doesn’t know what is beyond that horizon but he knows the first mile ahead is going to be a difficult one.

He can see that he will be struggling against the wind, dust and rocks just to make it past that first mile. There is no evidence at all that things will get better except for the knowledge that roads usually clear after awhile. Of course usually is no guarantee now is it?

He knows the road is long, that there is no end in sight but that there is an end. He also knows reaching that end will come with it an innumerable amount of hardships, pain, discomfort, fear and vulnerability, along with joy, moments of peace, happiness, fun, and possible fulfillment.

On the other hand, it would be so much simpler to give up his trek now. Just end his journey, either turn back or set up shop where he stands. Living out the rest of his days wondering what is in the horizon but not caring enough to find out. Or turning back and tracing familiar roads that are no better but are the devil he knows and therefore prefers.

The man takes a look around at the place he now stood. He takes a good hard look at the road behind him. He takes an even harder look at the road in front of him.

He ties his duster shut, spits on the ground, narrows his eyes on the horizon and whispers a phrase uttered by many, as a source of strength and comfort in times of great uncertainty and hardships…

“Fuck it.”

He begins his perilous trail into the unknown, knowing only that the road leads somewhere, and that he needed to know where.

More Fodder

2010-02-19T20:34:00.000-08:00

There is a commonly held belief and physiologically proven theory that we create our God. We form god in our image. When you read the pages of the Koran, the Torah, the Bible, you do what you would do with any work of literature, you find common threads between yourself and the protagonist. I realize that to most these are much more than works of literature, but that doesn’t change how we perceive what we read.

In any situation we relate what we see to our lives and act accordingly. So it is no surprise that when people describe God, God tends to have the same morals and ideology as themselves. This is how faith speaks to us, this is WHY faith speaks to us. This is why the metaphor alone is so transformative. This is also why the church can’t get there act together.

Elton John recently made a statement "I think Jesus was a compassionate, super-intelligent gay man who understood human problems.” He wrapped his quote up with an insightful statement about God’s compassionate nature. "On the cross, he forgave the people who crucified him. Jesus wanted us to be loving and forgiving. I don't know what makes people so cruel. Try being a gay woman in the Middle East - you're as good as dead."

No body is listening to that second half Elton. You just called the son of God gay, and the audience that this message is getting to, as Elton well knows, is less than compassionate to the plight of the gay man. And because of that first statement he has muted the much more prevalent point, that God is loving.

I am not personally offended by Elton’s assumption. I mean I get it, Jesus spent most of his time hanging around twelve dudes in the middle of the desert, washing there feet, expressing “he-motions” over some fish and a roaring fire. And this view of Jesus probably helped Elton relate the story of Christ to his life which allowed that story to become a transformative force in his life.

My problem here is this. Elton John is a public figure, A literal walking legend who is listened to by a very large audience. When he invokes the name of Jesus he perks the churches ears, he has to, because the church, in order to stay relevant, has to care about relevant people.

Would it matter if Jesus where in fact gay? Not to me, but it does to the millions of Bible believing Catholics and Protestants who have spent there entire lives relating to Jesus in an entirely different way. Now Elton has re-enflamed the Us V. Them mentality of the church and guess who pays the price for that? Those who find peace in the walls of the church, because situations like this are the catalyst for disenchantment. I know people who stopped going to church over the Da Vinci code.

Now some may say (and rightly so) that this is just a symptom of a larger problem that is not Elton’s problem. Here is the thing, it is Elton’s problem. If he is a church going Christian who cares about the faith of his brothers and sisters than it became his problem the moment he donned the yoke. Should the church stop being so petty? Should the church work on getting stronger so things like this don’t shake it up? Absolutely, but how is that going to happen when instead of lightly easing the mindset of tolerance and acceptance into the congregations consciousness we stand up and chuck a rock into the church’s window? The gay community is in the birthing stages of acceptance in the church and now Elton John has just given the opposing side a soap box. “they want to be ordained because they think that Jesus was a queer, if we allow that then we are agreeing with them!” And actual clergy or would be clergy are going to be lost in the noise when they try and bring up the logical point that “there is no biblical suggestions that implies that Jesus was gay, but that isn’t the point, we are God loving Christians who have been called to serve our lord.” And worse than that gay clergy are going to be forced into the awkward position of trying to defend this statement.

Because if they say “Jesus wasn’t gay” than the world hears a confirmation to all the reasons THEY say he wasn’t gay such as “gay is a sin and Jesus wasn’t sinful.” Instead of what that statement really means “he wasn’t gay because well…he wasn’t gay.” And if they say “he was gay.” Well you can put the rest of that together.

Elton John did his own message a disservice by prefacing that message with a shocking statement he knew would rock the boat. You need to rock the boat to invite the waters of change…but there is a way, there is a time, there is an effective method.

once upon a happily never after

2010-02-16T11:01:00.000-08:00

Once upon a not that long ago, in a village far away, and by village I mean small town in the Midwest, lived a prince, and by prince I mean a kid on pearl who was a bit of a dandy. This prince had a dragon to slay, and by dragon I mean a fist full of chores. He pushed his shovel and carried his garbage bag, sweat poured down is face as he violently thrust the mighty vacuum cleaner across the floor.

This prince while in the middle of slaying his dragon looked out his window to see a lovely princess playing in the snow. And by lovely princess I mean the total hottie that lives across the street. The prince was in awe of this princesses beauty but dare not make an approach for fear of rejection. Instead he went from dragon to dragon, distracting himself from what he wants with what he is doing.

And the princess eventually went on to marry the evil war lord, and by evil war lord I mean the deutsch bag who played tight end on the football team. They had three kids and lived miserably ever after, never knowing her prince had been across the street her whole life. The prince continued his life of chores and dragon slaying until he died alone in his lazy boy some odd years later.

The moral?

Dragons will always be there, love however is elusive.

Mort and Love

2010-02-10T19:05:00.001-08:00

There once was a man named Mort. Mort had a goldfish, he named his goldfish Love. Mort found Love in a pond called Destiny. Though he had had many goldfish before Love something about this one sparkled.
So Mort picked Love out of Destiny, got it a bowl and kept it in his home next to his bed. Mort fed and nurtured Love every day and the longer Mort did this, the bigger the fish grew. Eventually Love grew to be so big that Mort needed to find a bigger tank. The more Mort’s goldfish grew the more time and effort he needed to put in to sustain the goldfish’s very existence.
Mort’s life began to get very busy. He had work and school and a million other distractions. Every so often Mort would forget to feed his goldfish, but Love understood and when Mort apologized and gave the fish even more food than usual the fish forgave Mort.
One day the goldfish was in a very angry mood because Mort had forgotten to feed Love again, and bit Mort’s hand while he was feeding it extra to make up for the lost day. Mort got very angry and didn’t feed Love for a week. In fact Mort avoided the room with the tank all together. Eventually Mort felt bad about neglecting Love and he went to Love’s room to apologize.
When Mort entered he saw that Love was floating dead in the tank. Mort was beside himself, he didn’t want to live a single day with Love not apart of his life anymore. So Mort buttered up a pan, got his seasoning salts ready, and ate Love for dinner. “This way” Mort thought “Love will be apart of me forever and ever.”

The End

Find the moral…I dare you lol

Kept

2009-12-08T19:01:00.001-08:00

I am apart of a short zombie film called Kept...here is the trailer http://www.vimeo.com/8065316

Hey winter...thanks for the mood

2009-12-07T21:30:00.001-08:00

Some days you need to let the demons out. Sometimes it’s comforting to let the sorrow wash over your soul like a hot bubbly bath at the end of a long day. Some times you start to feel like the boy with his finger in the dike and you just want to remember what it’s like to feel the cold, terrible, terrifying water on your face. Those are the days the darkness comes to play and you are all too happy to find rest there.

Maybe you curl up inside your sobs of woe; maybe you brood in silence greeting your grief like an old friend. However you embrace your muse of Melancholy, every so often it feels liberating to stop the fighting. The aversion, the distractions, the self destructive evasion, it’s all just so tiring.

It’s scary allowing your mind to travel to those dark places, but I always feel like I have grown when my trek through the labyrinth of my hearts discontent is finished and the light of my true and obvious situation has been made evident.

The reality is never quiet as bad as what’s going on inside your head.

Life Worth Living

2009-10-03T15:47:00.001-07:00

Life is filled with pain, joy, angels, demons, adventures and boredom. We are moved along by time and circumstances making all the choices we can, trying desperately to control the outcome of our lives. Every move we make is made in attempt to attain something and avoid something else.

You attempt to attain a connection by perusing relationships in an effort to avoid loneliness. You end a relationship to avoid more pain in an effort to improve your situation. School, work, friends, everything is a choice powered by the motivation of momentum.

Here is the small piece of wisdom I am gleaning from this journey. It is all essentially relative. Maybe you’re avoiding pain and loneliness, maybe your avoiding vulnerability, maybe your avoiding mediocrity. The wonderful truth of it is though that most of these things we claw to avoid are an inevitability. In the words of Shakespeare there is nothing neither good nor bad but thinking makes it so. Love, loneliness, vulnerability, it will happen. The only thing you have the power to control is your ability to take things as they come, being able to change the plan, to let go, to adjust.

Most importantly I think the key is to not let your fear control your decisions. Fear is healthy and to a degree necessary but if you want something, if everything you are is telling you it is something you need but that sinking feeling in your stomach is telling you to run like hell take a moment to evaluate the situation. Are you afraid because you really think this is going to be something bad for you, or are you just scared that history will repeat it’s self?

I am not saying put yourself in the line of fire, I’m just saying fear is the inhibitor of life, rigidity keeps us from seeing all that can be seen or experiencing all we have the potential to experience.

Tell your fear that you are worth it, win lose or draw risks make life worth living. Taking huge risks small risks everyday risks, they are what define us as the living. Take the risks that matter, win lose or draw you will probably at the very least experience something that is a basic essential reminder that you are in fact alive.

Tucker Max, God's Mistake

2009-09-02T09:52:00.000-07:00

Okay, so I have been reaching levels of cheesiness and fluffitude (yes it is my word, yes you can have it) that rivals even the most nauseating of child stars, with my latest blog posts. Because I need to put some level of nastiness out in the world to maintain the balance of good and evil I am going to write about possibly the worst human being to walk North America since Sean Hannity. I am speaking of course, about Tucker Max. As you may or may not know Tucker Max is the author of a book, “I Hope They Serve Beer In Hell”, filled with true (some possibly exaggerated) stories about his exploits.

“Well that doesn’t sound so bad why are you ragging on him?” Because the short stories chronicle misogynistic, selfish and at times border maniacal antics perpetrated by Max. Granted some stories give me hope in Karma, most of them make me lose faith in humanity. This is how I viewed this book until I realized something, it is hilarious.

What makes something funny? Generally something is funny because it points at the absurd and exaggerates it. Tucker Max, if even half of his stories are true, is a walking parody of humanity. He is everything wrong with the average man. He is the reason women are jaded but he is such a dick it is comical. The book “I Hope They Serve Beer In Hell” is now becoming a movie.

I will be seeing this movie and I will be laughing hysterically. I won’t be laughing because I think that Tucker Max is the greatest man alive (as some think). I will not be laughing because I myself am as big a douche as Max. I will be laughing at the dramatization of God’s mistake.
But the most important part I think, is that I will be laughing.

Top Five Most Important Things the People Who Raised Me Said (and what I learned from it.)

2009-08-31T11:38:00.001-07:00

Top Five Most Important Things the People Who Raised Me Said (and what I learned from it.)

In no particular order

1. What did you learn from this?” –Mom-

Translation: There certainly is a reason for everything even if that reason is not so apparent. The reason may not be some predestined plan but something you have to figure out for yourself. Learn from everything.

2. “You can smoke, you can drink, but if you do both at the same time get ready for the worst night of your life holding on to the walls of the room that is spinning” –Dad-
Translation: Happiness is found in moderation, lead the life you want to live but do so with common sense

3. “Question everything.” –Grandma

Translation: Absolutely nothing is as it seems and individuality is found in doubt and the exploration of that doubt.

4. “When you’re in a fight keep swinging, if you get caught in the mouth just spit out your teeth, spit out the blood and just keep swinging.” –Dad

Translation: Never give up, ever. No matter the circumstances pick yourself up, dust yourself off and “just keep swinging.”

5. “Kyle Duane I will run you over, back up and run you over again just to make sure the job is done.” –Aunt Sharon

Translation: Don’t piss off my Aunt Sharon.

The Gays are At It Again!...

2009-08-21T19:25:00.000-07:00

The Lutheran Church (ELCA not Missouri synod) had a vote today. The vote was to decide if those churches affiliated with the ELCA branch of Lutheranism should be allowed to have openly gay people who are in or plan on being in a monogamous relationship be pastors of a church.

The vote is in and it is now up to each congregation in that particular branch of Lutheranism to decide if it is appropriate for them to have a gay pastor. If that particular congregation says “yes, we think this man is a man of God and would like him leading us in our walk with God, and we don’t care about his sexual orientation.” Than the ELCA will not stand in the way of that.

This is an obvious hot button topic and me being me, I have to press it. One would assume that a church has to uphold the doctrine it attests too…however this vote is a major change in the doctrine of the ELCA. I don’t have anything to say here really. I don’t really go to church anymore let alone a Lutheran church but I felt like shaking the hornets nest.

I think I have a good idea on what I will hear but I am interested in the opinions of my friends so, with no further ado…GO!

The Shadow Box Vol. 1

2009-08-19T14:41:00.001-07:00

This is my first attempt at a story like this but I would like feed back.

The air is dry, the sun unrelenting, the sand smoldering. The desert is a slave driver with no mercy or concern for human life, it just takes. It dissolves every useful thing in your body just because it can. These are the things running through Jacob’s mind as he digs his chisel into each slab of granite. 100 men, a quarter of a million dollars and six months in hell, still no results.

Jacob was hand picked for this assignment. Actually ’picked’ is putting it lightly, more like he was hunted down like a rabid dog for this dig. He was an unsung aficionado of lost and rare artifacts. He worked for seven years as the head librarian of The Library of Congress. He was the catch all of knowledge at the Smithsonian for over 12 years. If you worked in the Smithsonian and you needed something found out Dr. Jacob was your man. Some how, however for all his knowledge and expertise traditional success still eluded him, in fact this was Jacob’s first substantial dig.

Jacob was always just missing the big discoveries. He was in the Congo researching a dieing civilization when he should have been in Egypt uncovering Tut’s tomb. He was vacationing in the Himalayans when he should have been in the Middle East unearthing new insights into the possibility of a real, honest to goodness Eden. That was the first vacation he had taken in six years and the last vacation he has taken since. He was laughed off the stage when presenting his theories on the very artifact he was now digging for.

Jacob was torn when he was offered this job. On the one hand this could be his big break, his synch in the book of history. On the other hand if half of what he researched about what he was looking for was true, any sane man would be running in the other direction. Than Jacob saw the check. He was on the next flight heading to the Sahara.

Jacob could hear hoof beats in the distance. He put his chisel down, grabbed a jug of water and made his way out of the dig sight to go greet his employer. Reed was nice enough, but he was an adventurer. Adventurers like Reed were unforgivably flawed in Jacob’s estimation. Reed always had a gun on each hip, a cowboy hat on his head, a messenger bag on his back and a slight madness in his eyes. If it weren’t for that look in his eyes Jacob would have written Reed off as another Indiana Jones wannabe.

Reed made his millions buying and selling priceless artifacts to who ever could get the price right. Jacob did admire Reed though, if for no other reason than for the most part he was generous. Reed looked out for number one 99.9% of the time but that didn’t mean he didn’t have a compass.

Reed was among those responsible for the uncovering of the Dead Sea Scrolls. He never made it in the papers though. That’s because instead of selling them to someone who could have turned him from millionaire to billionaire he handed them over to more knowledgeable hands. He understood the Scroll’s importance. No good deed goes un-punished however and Reed’s name was lost to oblivion.

Reed climbed off his horse to greet Jacob. “Dr.Jacob!” Reed said with a smile on his face. “How the hell are we not neck deep in fame and fortune by now, Jesus H man, thought you were the best?” Reed said laughing. That was something else that confused Jacob. Reed never got angry, about anything. Reed was once robbed of an extremely rare gold likeness of King Herod. The artifact would have been Reed’s biggest pay off to date if his best friend hadn’t taken it at gun point. Rumor is Reed just laughed and asked his partner, James, if he wanted it gift wrapped. That kind of confidence unsettled Jacob. Than again James went missing two weeks later.

“ It’s a matter of resources Reed, this kind of dig needs twice as many men as you have provided, not to sound ungrateful but frankly sir, it’s like dusting for cat shit in a sand box with a feather.” Jacob explained as he took a swig from his jug of water. “I’m just taken the piss out of you Jacob.” Reed said slapping Jacob’s arm causing him to spill a little bit of water on himself. Just then one of the diggers came running up to Jacob. “DR.JACK, DR.JACK WE NEED YOU DOWN HERE!” Jacob rolled his eyes. “HOW MANY TIMES MANUEL, MY NAME IS JACOB!” He yelled back as he followed the digger. Reed adjusted his hat as he followed behind Jacob.

Jacob rushed down to a circle of diggers, all looking down at a spot about ten feet from the wall they were working on. Jacob pushed his way through the crowd. “Move, move, what is it?” Reed kept peeking up on his toes trying to see the commotion, not wanting to push through the crowed he was content to peer. Jacob’s smile quickly faded from his face when he got to the center of the commotion only to find that the 50 gallon drum of water they were using to refill there bottles had sprung a leak.

Jacob stood stunned for a moment than tilted his head to the sky with his eyes closed. “Manuel…what the fuck is this?” “Dr. Jack we need water what are we going to do when this leaks all the water out?” Jacob with his head still tilted and eyes till shut extended his arm and index finger up and to the right directing the crowds gaze to a large tanker truck. “THAT, Manuel, is FILLED with water. In fact if my memory serves me YOU drove that god damn eyesore to this site.” Jacob lowered his gaze to Manuel. “Of course I use the term ‘drive’ loosely. More like you careened that hunk of shit half way across the desert like a drunken palsy victim with a Tonka truck. But than again why should I be surprised? You and your ‘team’”, Jacob said making exaggerated air quotes “Has done nothing but display stunning mediocrity in the face of even the most mundane of tasks.”

“I mean honestly Manuel you and your men are like a failed government experiment! Remember last week?! When you had the big break through…what was it?” “Dr. Jack.” Manuel said as he pointed at the ground at Jacob’s feet. “NO MANUEL WHY DON’T YOU TELL OUR EMPLOYER WHAT YOUR BIG FUCKING BREAK THROUGH WAS!” Manuel still pointing said once again “Dr. Jack.” “IT WAS CAMEL SHIT WASN’T IT? Not just camel shit though, oh no, it was YOUR CAMEL’S SHIT!” Reed pushed through the crowed and his eyes grew wide when he looked at Jacob’s feet. “Dr. Jack you should…” Manuel said again only to be interrupted by Jacob’s rampage. “I should what Manuel? Calm down? Stop yelling? First you stop being incompetent than maybe I will stop yelling!” Reed attempted to interrupt pointing at Jacob’s feet he says “Dr. Jacob you really should loo-“ Jacob cut Reed off as well. “I MEAN HONESTLY REED, where did you find this bunch of inbred, moronic, missing link pieces o- woa shiiiiiiii.” Jacob’s rampage was cut short and Jacob felt himself falling through the earth into nothing.

Reed rushed through the crowed and peered over the edge of the now gaping chasm. “Dr. Jacob?” “fuuuuck, Manuel…I still blame you.” “As I was saying Jacob, you should have been looking at what the water was doing to the ground, I would have tried harder to tell you the ground was coming apart underneath you but…ya know…you were just so intent.” Reed said with a laugh. “Thanks Reed.” Jacob said under his breath as he picked himself up and dusted himself off. “Will someone please throw me a flash light or something?” Jacob yelled out. A hard hart with an LED light attached fell at Jacob’s feet. Jacob attached the helmet, turned on the light and looked around. “What do you see?” Reed yelled down.

Jacob took a few steps forward, he had fallen on an incline, the further he walked the larger this under ground temple got. Eventually Jacob’s light illuminated a wall in front of him. He traced the wall with his light from top to bottom, easy fifty feet high, maybe twenty feet wide, Jacob thought. By its position Jacob could tell it was apart of what they had been chipping at all morning. When Jacob looked closer he could see writing all over the wall. Jacob looked wide eyed. “Fuck my mother.” Jacob said under his breath. “What was that Doctor?” Reed shouted down. “You better get down here Reed.” Jacob yelled up.

Within minutes Reed was climbing down a ladder that had been bolted to the ground, with his own hard hat on. Jacob was on one knee examining the wall. “What do you got for me Doctor?” “Nothing good, well it’s good but it’s not.” Reed lets out a chuckle and says “care to elaborate?” “Well you see this here?” Jacob says pointing above there head. “This is a warning, now I am not one for superstition but generally a warning means traps, traps mean danger.” “Wait a minute.” Reed interrupts “You mean to tell me that all that Temple of Doom crap is for real?” “Sometimes yeah, but it’s a crap shoot, sometimes it’s a few inactive booby traps sometimes there just defective and sometimes they are still fully active. This wall talks of guards of the damned, standing watch over hell’s parcel.” Reed raises his eyebrows and looks at Jacob. “Hell’s parcel?” “Yeah, I called it The Shadow Box in my report, ancient Greeks called it Pandora’s box, the Mayans didn’t even give it a name, who ever had the relic last must have named it Hell’s parcel.”

Reed kept staring at Jacob. “You don’t seem too worried about that description Doctor.” Jacob stood to his feet as he began to explain himself. “Well it’s no secret that good generally doesn’t follow in the wake of those who have possessed this thing. But than again some think that Solomon’s riches came directly preceding his own discovery of this relic.” “So on top of all of this the damn thing is cursed?” “Don’t be ridiculous” Jacob scoffed still staring at the imposing wall, “Spurious correlations, the Pandora’s Box thing is obviously just a Myth but every culture has an object they deify. The Temples, The Spear of Destiny even Joseph Smith’s gold tablets, we scapegoat people ancient civilization’s liked to scapegoat objects. The bright side however, the only warning I see here is of evil spirits and the fore mentioned guards of the damned.”

“Fantastic” Reed says as he slaps Jacob on the shoulder. “Now what?” Jacob looks at Reed and smiles. “Lets crack this cookie.” “I knew I liked you Dr. Jacob.” Reed said as he slapped Jacob’s arm again.

Within the hour Reed, Jacob and ten terrified diggers where standing in front of the daunting wall armed to the teeth with hiking and camping gear, MREs, flares and water. Jacob lit a flare and the entire chasm lit up. On each corner there were torch stands and Jacob could see now that the incline he fell on could have easily been used as stadium seating. This was defiantly some kind of ancient temple, Jacob thought. “Well” Jacob said as he scratched his forehead, “If this is a temple than where we are standing could just be an entry way, or this wall could serve the same purpose as the iron curtain in Judaism. Either way there should be a latch.” Jacob stood in front of the wall using his flare to examine the writing. Jacob pauses at the far side of the wall and pushes his hand against some lettering. The granite gave way and the goliath like wall turned sideways reveling the passage way behind it. “I see says the blind man.” Jacob whispered.

Reed walked through the passage way first than the digging team. Reed stood at the doorway as if he were stuck. His brow furrowed he was looking at nothing in particular, just listening. Jacob could hear whispers coming closer and closer. The whispering began to mingle and soon the soft voices turned into high pitched, loud, howling. Jacob squeezed his eyes shut, put his hands over his ears and yelled out. “Doctor, you alright?” With the sound of Reed’s voice silence reigned again. Jacob shook his head and walked through the threshold. “No, I’m just- it’s fine lets go.”

The corridor led to a trail that seemed to get narrower as you walked the path. After about three miles of walking the tunnel stopped Narrowing, now it was only seven feet tall and five feet wide. The further they walked the more this daunting feeling haunted Jacob. The closer they traveled away from the entrance the more his fear grew, as if the shadows themselves here gripping at his heart. The walk was silent, Jacob wondered if the rest of the team felt it as well. Of course Reed knew only ambition. With every mile he picked up the pace. His eyes fixed on an imaginary finish line. He continued to charge into the darkness as if it were taunting him. The darkness had a thickness to it that everyone seemed to respect but Reed. Reed just kept on, as if the darkness it’s self where taunting Reed and Reed was responding in kind, cutting through it with his helmets light, bounding in the shadows into the nothingness.

Every few Kilometers Reed would yell something out. “We’re close gentlemen I can feel it.” Or, “Just around this corner I bet.” Jacob did his best to mark the wall or ground every few miles. Around mile six Reed stopped talking all together. At mile eight the team had to jog to keep up with Reed. At mile nine Jacob finally spoke up. “REED! Slow down, I think we should set up camp here.” Reed stopped in his tracks, he looked back at the team and than back into the darkness ahead. “Fine.” Reed said as a child called in for dinner by his mother.

The team sat down almost single file and cracked open there MREs, “Meals Ready to Eat.” Reed said with a chuckle. “Meal, I’ve chewed on rubber more tender than this.” He said as he bit into the unidentified food in his hand. After a few hours Reed and Jacob could hear the team sleeping.

Jacob could hear the whispering again. It stayed low this time, quiet voices calling to him in the night, unable to be fully heard or understood. Jacob sat silently trying to decipher the words he heard in the dark. It had him entranced. Reed, obviously unable to sleep himself, broke the silence that was only silent to everyone but Jacob. “You alright Doctor?” “Hmm? Oh, yeah I’m fine.” “You know,” Reed said, “this reminds me of when I was in South Africa. I was hiking through this cave…” Reed’s voice trailed off. Jacob wasn’t listening to Reed, and he wasn’t exactly sure when Reed stopped talking but six hours after the team had settled in Reed was urging everyone back on the trail.

Reed shined a light on Jacob’s face and was startled at the condition the good doctor was in. “Holy hell man, didn’t you sleep?” Reed asked. Jacob didn’t answer he just gathered his things and stood up. The whispering was constant now. Jacob had to strain to hear what anyone else was saying.

It was only a mile more when the team hit a wall. “Doctor! Get your brilliant head over here, tell me how to open this thing.” Reed shouted. Jacob shined his light on the wall and the whispers grew. Jacob put his hand on the wall than recoiled as if he was burned by it. But when Reed felt the wall it was ice cold. Jacob’s hands flew to his ears, the whispers were screams now, Howling wind, lamenting spirits, deafening shrieks in Jacob’s ears. Jacob let out a scream as he fell to his knees ears still covered.

The team saw the state Jacob was in and they dropped there packs and ran back to the entrance. “Where are you going!” Reed yelled. “YOU STILL HAVE WORK TO DO YOU FUCKING COWARDS!” Reed knelt next to Jacob and put his hand on Jacob’s shoulder. “Doctor! Snap out of it man! DOCTOR!” Just then it was silent again. Total silence, the quiet made Jacob feel ill. He almost would prefer the screaming. “You gonna make it Doctor?” Reed asked. Jacob stood to his feet. “Let’s do this.” He said with anger in his voice.

Jacob stood to his feet now determined to see what was calling to him. He shined his light on the door and saw the same writing that gave him access to the entrance. He pushed in and this time the wall retracted into the ceiling. Reed threw a flare into the dark opening. Jacob and Reed both shielded there eyes when the flare landed and created a ball of fire. The fire settled and then trailed in a circle than outward in trails to the four corners of the room. Now there were four strips of fire coming from the middle of the room lighting up that space. In the middle of the fire circle there was a small pillar; on top of that pillar there was a small wooden box.

In between the trails of fire there where four large statues of men holding axes. “ I suppose those are the ‘guardians’ I have heard so much about.” Reed said as he stepped across the threshold. “I would be careful Reed.” Jacob said. “What’s gonna happen Doctor? Are the big scary stone men going to come to life and get us?” Reed said with a chuckle. Jacob muttered under his breath “could have done with out that thought.”

Reed moved to the middle of the room and stood in front of the ring of fire surrounding the pillar. Reed took a step forward to reach out for the box on the pillar and the block he stepped on gave way about six inches. Reed almost fell face first in the fire. “Reed…don’t move a muscle.” The two waited in silence for a moment, nothing happened. “Okay Reed, I have a feeling as soon as you take your foot off of that thing something very, very bad is about to happen so just stand still.” “So what, you expect me to stand here forever?” “No, just calm yourself Reed let me find something to counter balance your weight.” Jacob said as he looked around the room. “Ya know Jacob I was never very much of a patient man.” Reed said obviously intent on jumping off. I fucking hate adventurers. Jacob thought as he crouched down waiting for what would happen. Reed Jumped off of the block and landed on his back with his hand positioned on the pistol at his side.

They weighted a moment and nothing happened. “Fantastic.” Reed said as he stood up. “Reed, remember when I told you some of these traps are defective?” “Yeah.” “Look at the block.” Both there stomachs dropped when they saw the block that Reed had stepped on had not returned to its original position. Every scrape the block made as it slowly edged back to the surface turned a knife in the both of the explorer’s stomachs. “I’m going for it.” Read said as he reached over the flame. “REED STOP!” Jacob yelled out vainly. Just as Reeds hands were wrapped around the small box the block returned to its position and the sound, a terrible creek, echoed through the room. Reed snatched the box off the pillar and threw his body on the floor. Just as his back hit the floor thousands of pin sized holes opened up in the walls spitting needles across the room. Reed and Jacob made themselves as flush to the ground as possible as the tiny sharp projectiles whizzed in front of there faces.

After thirty seconds the whistling stopped and Jacob looked over at Reed who was holding his leg a pool of blood underneath him. “God Reed, are you okay?” “I’m fine let’s grab this box and go.” Reed grabs the box sitting next to him. Just as the two stood up and faced the door they both heard a slide, the sound of rock on rock. They turned around slowly. “Where the fuck is the pillar?” Jacob said with a mixture of fear and anger in his voice. The sound of gears moving filled the room. “Okay Time to go.” Reed said as he made his way to the door. Just before Reed crossed the threshold the door slams from the ceiling down into the floor.

Reed looked wide eyed around the room for an exit the sound of gears still barreling through the empty space. Jacob could not hear them though just the howling that bellowed in his ears once again. He could feel the whispering in his bones. Jacob just as wide eyed looked around the room, not for the exit but for the source. Without warning the gear noises stopped, so did the howling. The sickening silence crept over both of there hearts.

The silence was short lived however when the sound of stone on stone filled that space once again. “Jacob…tell me something.” “Yeah Reed?” “Do stone statues from an ancient civilization…well are they SUPPOSED to move?” “Not traditionally although my eyes are playing tricks thanks to that tasteless remark you made when you walked in.” “Jacob, tricks they are not.”

Jacob stared hard at the men in the corners of the room…they were moving. The one on the right who was holding the ax over his head is now bringing it down in front of him slowly. The others were pulling themselves out of the wall. “Okay, fuck this.” Reed said as he tried to pull the door open using his bare hands.” “It’s not going to work Reed.” “PESIMIST!” Reed yelled. The stone slabs where picking up speed they were coming closer.

Reed turned from his attempts at the door and pulled out the pistol on his right. Reed took aim at the statue in the far right corner furthest from them. “Now what is that going to do Reed, Really?” “Hopefully piss it off.” “You’re a genius Reed maybe we can antagonize it’s mother too.”

Reed pulled off a shot landing square between the eyes of the stone man. The statue recoiled than made a murmuring sound. “Did that stone just growl at me?” Reed asked. “That’s just unsettling.” Jacob replied. The statue charged at Reed axe in the air. Reed stood there waiting and just before the impact he leapt out of the way causing the statue to crash through the door.

Reed made sure he had a tight grip on the box with his left hand and started to hop over the fallen statue. “Lets go!” Reed shouted. Jacob hopped over the statue and yelled after Reed. “Did you know that would happen?” “Not a clue!” Reed shouted back.

The howling returned to Jacob but more distant now. As if he was not only running from the impossible beasts on his trail but some unseen demon lurking in the very walls that enclosed them. “Do you hear that?” Reed shouted back at Jacob. “That whistling?” Jacob asked. “Yeah what the hell is that?” “I don’t know I’ve been hearing it on and off since yesterday.” “And you didn’t think that was something you could have shared with the class Doctor? I mean Christ that is disturbing.” “I thought I was going crazy okay.” Jacob defended. “Well we’re both going nuts then.”

The two kept running at full tilt for half a mile until they both settled down to a jog. Winded Jacob asked Reed “Think it’s safe to slow down?” “I don’t know Doc, that thing was fast for being 3 tons over weight.” The two slowed to a fast walk huffing and puffing holding there sides, Reed was favoring his injured leg. At the one and a half mile marker both were stopped dead in there tracks completely out of breath.

“You still hear the whistling doc?” “yeah a little.” “Good” Reed said relieved that it wasn’t just in his head. The two stood in silence for a moment. “Did you hear that?” Reed asked. The tunnel filled with a low thumping. POUND POUND POUND POUND. “yeah…yeah I heard it.” POUND POUND POUND. The hallway was now echoing with thumping. Soon the walls the two explorers were leaning against began to shake. At the slightest tremble both men were off like a shot again. Jacob struggled to maintain balance as the entire cavern was shaking now. Jacob’s mind wandered back to the one and only earth quake he was in and how terrified he was. He was ten years old again frightened at the motion of the earth beneath him. While Reed was obviously thrown off balance it only served to quicken his pace, the adrenaline over shadowing the fact that his leg was still bleeding.

The men saw the five mile marker they had left. “HALF WAY DOCTOR!” Reed shouted out. The two unable to breathe but still unable to stop were falling over there feet struggling to get back up with each tumble. Reed looked back to make sure the good doctor was still behind him at the seventh mile. His gaze was diverted however at the six foot stone soldier barreling down on them. Reed stopped dead in his tracks almost causing Jacob to slam into him. “What are you doing?!” Jacob demanded. “Keep running.” Reed commanded. Jacob didn’t have to be asked twice once he saw what was coming down the tunnel. Reed handed the box to Jacob and Jacob was off.

Reed grabbed his pistol and began firing. Each strike of led on stone only made the impending doom rush quicker to envelop Reed. Reed stood staring down the stone soldier waiting, his eyes wild with excitement and anticipation. “Wait for it…wait for it…wait for it…NOW.” With that Reed dove at the beasts feet barrel rolling between its legs grabbing one of the legs as he fell. Reed thought his arm was going to tear out of his socket as he pulled against the leg made of granite. His efforts were fruitful however and the soldier lost its balance falling face first. The impact shook the cavern; the shock was felt by Jacob who had already run a quarter mile.

Reed hopped over the beast and started running again. He looked back only to see the tunnel being blocked off by falling stones. The cavern was falling to pieces and even worse Reed and Jacob could hear the soldiers barreling through every barricade the earth threw at them. Mile nine came and went, one more mile to go. Sweat was pouring down there faces but they could see the door way in the distance. Both Jacob and Reed who had caught up summoned every ounce of energy they could muster from there burning legs, there piercing lungs, there splitting sides just to make it to the finish line.

The two emerged from the doorway and scrambled to get to the ladder. It appeared as if they where safe they were going to make it. Just as this though crossed both there minds, just as they both had made it half way up the ladder they heard the thumping again. Jacob almost fell of the ladder the earth was shaking it so.

Jacob could smell fresh air, he could feel the smoldering sand on his hand as he reached out of the chasm. He pulled his body up onto safe ground and looked down to help Reed up. Jacob had his hand extended when he saw two stone soldiers coming up to the ladder. Each soldier took one end. “COME ON REED GRAB MY HAND!” But it was too late. The beasts had yanked the ladder clean off the bolts that secured it to the ground. Jacob turned and winced at the sound of Reed’s head being crushed under a foot made of granite.

Jacob could see the earth shaking from where they had been and it was getting closer. Soon where he sat was trembling and he felt the force of hundreds of pounds of sand pouring into the chasm they had discovered. Jacob scrambled to get out of the grip of this make shift quick sand. He clawed his way to a hill near by finally reaching safe ground. He watched as the water tanker moved with the sand, the entire dig site being pulled into the darkness. The campsite was devoid of all human life, the team obviously frightened off by the rumbling in the distance.

Jacob waited for the sand to settle and than he mounted Reed’s horse and started his ride back to the city to tell his story, though he was almost certain it would be another point of ridicule. There where a dozen suits with a million questions back at the embassy. Jacob was practically catatonic and only responded “Read my report.” When asked where was the team, where was Reed, Jacob told the truth. “There not coming back.” Jacob stepped on to the private jet Reed used to come in.

He was half way across the ocean when he heard it. The whispering, it was low and melodic, haunting even. It wasn’t the howling anymore, more like a beckoning. Jacob removed the small wooden box from his pack and every inch of his body rejected the possibility of this small token sitting in his hand. Jacob couldn’t tell what kind of wood this box was, it certainly felt like wood, all be it no kind of wood his skin has ever touched before.

His eyes glued to the top of the box, some singe marks on the side, hinges that attached the top to the rest and the whispering no longer surrounded him, it was coming from one obvious direction. His heart pumped in his chest, his brow began to sweat and his hand shook as he placed his fingers on the sides of the box. He was going to see what Reed died for. He was going to find out what was so goddamn valuable.

The box creaked as the top of the box was lifted slowly, quarter inch by quarter inch. With every inch the whispering became louder, more melodic, a begging of tormented spirits. Where these whispering souls pleading with Jacob or warning him?

The box was now open and Jacob peered inside. Blackness, he couldn’t even see a bottom. Just as he leaned his eyes over the edge of the opening of the box though, the whispering turned into whistling wind. Papers in the plan swirled around him. Jacob’s eyes widened at what he saw. In an instant every hair on his body turned white. Jacob’s mouth was contorted as if he were trying to let out a scream but no sound came from him, just the wind rushing out of the box.

Jacob’s heart was pounding; he had nothing to describe the horrors that were inside the darkness, nothing to compare it to. He had no child hood memory to fall on, something that would allow him to make sense of the void he was now staring into.

Jacob finally was able to orchestrate his hands to the top of the box closing the lid, but it was too late. Jacob’s mind was now trapped in the darkness. Everything he looked at was black. All he could see was the void. He didn’t know that the engines had stopped. He didn’t feel the plane tip into a vertical nose dive. He didn’t acknowledge the violent shaking as the plane hit water. He didn’t try and swim away as the plane filled with water.

His feet, his legs, his chest, his neck and finally his head submerged in the sea. The box floated through the plane, floating at the top towards the cock pit. The current took the box out of the shattered cock pit window and the box floated to the surface. It was pushed along the current further and further from its victims, the whispering of lost souls and minds still surrounding the horror that is…The Shadow Box.

Nobody Said It Wouldn't Come At A Price

2009-08-11T18:11:00.000-07:00

The people who know me, know me; I like to think, as an explorer of the human condition, tourist of excess and a wanderer of the bitter landscape known as the soul. I like to think that I am hopelessly dedicated to the pursuit of truth, of honesty, of being genuine. This is the outlook I have adopted but not without a price.

It seems glamorous to call yourself a Nomad in this day and age. The image of the lone wolf has been idolized in this country for years. That’s not the case at all, the glamour, that is a lie and therefore deplorable to me. The truth is we are all wanderers in one way or another, trying to figure life out. Some people have a narrower road to travel than others. Some don’t realize that wandering is exactly what they are doing, they assume because of age, creed, a sense of political duty that they have found there Mecca, and therefore no longer need to look. But the road doesn’t stop just because you think you’ve stopped walking.

The truth is, the ones we view as a lone wolf are just conscious of the state of things. They know they don’t fit and can’t bring themselves to fake it. This isn’t a good thing, it is lonely and painful. It makes normal relationships hard if not impossible. God help the poor soul who wakes up in the midst of a life they created as a result of the expectations they had thrust upon them only to realize they can’t bare the lie. It is one thing to start life out knowing the world is skewed and feeling disconnected from it, it is another thing to spend a good chunk of that life trying to make it fit to no avail.

That isn’t to say that living your life as a disconnected vagabond searching for the genuine isn’t without its perks. Experience is my life blood. For better or worse I am bent on experiencing everything that this life has to offer. My pastor will stand next to my coffin and say “he lived a full life.” So help me God he will.

Living this way comes at a price. Not just the price of loneliness, not just the misery that always accompanies that loneliness, it gets so much worse. The ones who love you put a distance between you and them. They sense your disconnect and only greaten the divide by either physically removing themselves slowly from you, or by verbally trying to make you fit.

Round pegs who fit in round wholes always want the square pegs to join them. But no matter how much you pound or scream or sweat the square pegs will not fit. Everyone feels like this at some point in there lives, it is in fact a staple of adolescence. What happens, though, when adolescences passes you by and you realize that this is your life? What happens when you wake up and just accept your spiritual nomadic life style?

I have lost so many friends and potential friends by simply trying to challenge people. I used to ask the big questions to find out how people ticked. I don’t do that so much anymore. This self examination and the examination of others is one of the reasons I am hurting so completely now.

Nobody said that these things didn’t come at a cost. In fact just the opposite, I was told at a young age very specifically that being your own person comes at great risk. I was informed that there is a price to pay for looking too hard. I was urged again and again to simplify. I was told I was making things more difficult than they needed to be. It may be true that I make things difficult; but I do so out of the interest of being not only thorough in my life experience, but also in the interest of honesty.

This isn’t a call to arms, this isn’t a recruitment blog. This isn’t me blowing my own horn or self advertising. This is a confession.

I feel disconnected and lonely, I make things complicated and I have a very simple moral code. I refuse to settle for “just okay.” I can’t make myself fit into the frame that has been given to me. I can’t make myself fit in any sense of that word.

This is my confession, I am a self loathing, narcissistic, sadist with a combination god and inferiority complex. I call myself a nomad because I don’t feel “home” anywhere and that is something I have accepted as a permanent condition.

This is my confession…

I am Kyle Hoskins…and I’m fucked up…but I’m okay with that.

Carpe Deim

2009-07-15T01:55:00.000-07:00

A lot of you know that I have been going through a rough month. Life has barreled down on me with all the rage, fury and irony that I have come to expect from life. It is at times business as usual and at other times the most confusing and painful thing I have ever experienced. Some how though, life goes on.

I’m kept up at night by nightmares of terrible unseen things in the darkness. In my waking hours my head is swimming in a swamp of uncertainty, extreme conviction and playful escapism. And yet life goes on. I wake up in the morning send out a few resumes try and write and work on escaping some more and do it again the next day.

Life goes on in the exciting, painful, ironic way it does. The only thing that makes what is happening unique and fun and terrifying is our individuality. Is it interesting that a man is going through struggles or that a woman is feeling uncertain about her future? Not necessarily. But if you know that that man is someone who has shown feats of greatness as well as displayed the marks of deep seeded demons, then you have a story you can tell. If you know that that woman is someone who people trust and that sometimes when she is laying in bed at night the secrets that flow through her head make her break out in a cold sweat, you now care.

It could be very tempting to think to ourselves that our problems don’t matter. “It doesn’t matter that my family is driving me nuts because so and so is dealing with a death.” “It doesn’t matter that my love life is a wreck because so and so is in deep need of rehab.” These thoughts rob us of something. They rob us of our importance, of the gravity of life. It does matter that your family’s disappointment of you or your disappointment of them has caused you to break down in silent weeps at the witching hour. It matters because it is happening to you and because you matter.

it is unfair to rob yourself of experiencing that hardship just because you don’t think your problems are worth voicing. If we dismiss our present we dismiss our future. If we diminish our past we diminish ourselves. This life isn’t about “going on.” Life goes on, we do so much more.

We love and laugh, cry and cringe. We feel longing and desire we get horny and angry sometimes all at the same time and there is a reason for it. Because ultimately, all of this is worth it. Everything this life hands us is exciting. To keep yourself from experiencing the excitement of love lost or gained, to keep ourselves from knowing what it’s like to be addicted to something or to feel unusually attached to something that seems small is to stop life from meaning anything. Life doesn’t have to just happen. Life is meant to be experienced, tasted, mourned and reveled in. Escape if you must, some of the most inviting arms I have jumped to were attached to a whiskey bottle. Dwell if you have no other choice, sometimes that is exactly what you need. If you need to scream, cry, laugh, fuck, jump, kiss, run, twirl or any other verb…do it. Life is experienced by the courageous, the stupid and the crazy if you’re not in any of these camps I suggest working on getting into at least one of them.

I am not sure why I am writing this but it seemed like the thing to do and I don’t think I want to be in the business of ignoring “the thing to do” anymore.

Check this Fucking Shit Out Mother Fuckers.

2009-06-24T22:45:00.001-07:00

The art of swearing well is a coveted skill and craft, especially in the field of cinema. In works of literature you need only to worry about frequency and relevance. However in the spoken word there is a myriad of things to concern yourself with. there is emphasis, tone, context, these are skills that can take years to hone. Some of you have been doing this most of your lives and not even realizing it, perfecting the fine art of vulgarity.
However some of you have probably been going along your day to day lives un aware that your use of these beloved exclamations is either gratuitous or just plane weak. For those of you who are hoping to improve on your ability to utilize these useful and necessary words and phrases I give you a list of people who have truly perfected this underestimated craft.

Number 1. Mother Fucker
See Samuel L. Jackson. No body but nobody says Mother Fucker like Sammie J. See shaft, snakes on a plane, pulp fiction and just about any movie he has been in. Samuel understands that the term "mother fucker" is never considered literally anymore. Therefore the need to emphasize the word "mother" is often un necessary. Unless of course you are emphasizing both words with equal intensity (see Gene Hackman in Enemy of The State When "Brill" gets shot in the hand). He also utilizes the drawl in the word "fucker" by pronouncing it "fucka." To be honest with you most us honkies can't pull this off convincingly so it is best if you HAVE to use the term "mother fucker", to go right ahead and use both words with intensity. Of course if you can pull off the "fucka" than you my friend are a master and don't need to waste your time with this article. If you find yourself somewhere in a middle ground take your cues from Bruce Willis, he is a strong and close second for the "Mother Fucker" crown.

Number 2. Fuck
John Cusack is a master in the versatility of the word Fuck. Whenever it is scripted he finds some way to use the word with new emphasis, breathing fresh air into an often stale word. (see High Fidelity, War Inc., Gross Point Blank as well as most of any of his movies). The word "Fuck" is not only versatile because of all it's possible applications, but also because with every new emphasis it lends yet another meaning. Watch High Fidelity and you will know exactly what I mean. He is also a master at the word Shit...but we have someone else in mind for this word.

Number 3. Shit
Charlie Kelley of It's always Sunny is a master of the word "shit". Before this show I used to have no respect for the word at all. It was a throw away, good for spur of the moment exclamations or a way to demean somethings credibility "he's just talkin shit." But Charlie has taken this word to the next level. When you ad shit to it's usual counter parts such as bull or horse he runs with it. Watching Charlie maneuver the word shit is like watching a blacksmith craft a horse shoe. Watch all the it's always sunny seasons and you will know exactly what I mean.

This concludes the lesson for the day kids. To sum up, Mother Fucker is a phrase, which means it deserves the consideration necessary for both words. Fuck is versatile word and if you are not using it correctly you shouldn't be using it at all. If you can't handle the power of the word Fuck just step away. Finally, Shit has almost all the versatility of it's more notorious counterpart "fuck" if used properly.

Thus endith the lesson.

Twilight (it's not what you think)

2009-06-13T16:14:00.000-07:00

I drove home from dekalb at 5:00 A.M. this morning. The horizon was filled with mist and clouds. A gentle rain fell, the romantic kind of rain, the kind of rain cary grant would find himself making out in. With my Kilt strapped on and my bagpipe anthems blaring out of all four open windows, while the country side whizzed by I felt I was waking the world in true Irish fashion.

Since I graduated and pursued careers in second and third shift jobs I've established an odd bond with the twilight of the day. Generally when I wake up it is only hours before the sun will be setting and I go to sleep moments before the sun rises. This would suggest that my bond is with the darkness rather than the peaking light of day and the failing light of night, and that's true as well. I used to be afraid of the dark, until I made a decision in fourth grade to conquer that fear. It took about four nights.

Every night before I went to bed I would turn off the lights and stand for five minutes or so in the dark not moving, just tempting the darkness to make it's move. If something was going to get me in the night it was going to be on my terms. I kept my eyes open and my fists clenched. My anxiety waned and on the fourth day it was gone. Ever since then I have found comfort in darkness. I know darkness is universally a symbol for evil, hidden acts of indecency, the demons of our nature lurking in the shadows. But that isn't the case for me.

Darkness is a gentle and mysterious blanket that swallows me whole and makes me feel safe. It's my cocoon. More than that Darkness is a living thing to me, a muse that softly whispers the secrets of humanity in my ear and guides my thoughts to the mysteries of the the soul. I realize how this sounds, over dramatic romanticizing of a time of day. And it is, but that doesn't stop the fact that this is how I feel. I don't feel like this only because Darkness is romantic, it's because I like to hide. Everyone hides, I just embrace the means.

However the truth about my love of darkness is that it's selfish. It's about me and my solitude and creativity. It's about my feeling of safety and comfort. I don't think that's a bad thing, selfishness is necessary. That aside, I have entirely underrated the twilight of the day. Sunrise and set is about others, its a connection with the world, more than that it's a transition. Transitions are always beautiful. Spring and fall, watching trees transition from dead looking, to full of life. There painful and confusing but they are also necessary and generally lead to something wonderful. Which I think makes them beautiful.

I find myself on the cusp of change. I am about to drastically change my lifestyle and I am very likely never going to be the same after this. At first that should choke me with panic. I should be pulling my hair out with worry over the unknown. However what I was reminded of this morning is mystery is good. The unknown is what makes the world interesting. The Twilight of the day tells us all we need to know at that moment, the sun is going to arrive or fall. No matter what happens that will always be the case. That is how I am approaching this life change.

I have more worries than I can count. Will we make it financially? Will my acting and writing aspirations fall flat? Will I be forced into living a life doing something day in and out that I hate? What if I change so much that I lose sight of the people I love? What if, what if, what if.

Here is what I know. I will be in Minneapolis, I will be pursuing something I love and I will be doing it with someone who loves me more than the air she breaths, and someone I love with just as much tenacity. This is what I know and this is all that matters.

When you see the light blue sky, the morning mist, smell the air of new beginnings and feel that cold breeze wafting through your window you know morning has come. You know the sun is going to rise, and ultimately that is all that matters.

For everyone who doesn't want to sift through the context here is what I'm getting at. If it isn't happening right now it ultimately doesn't matter. Life tells you what you need to know when you need to know it. Fearing the darkness, the unknown, or not relishing in every moment (even and especially the transitional ones) is cheating yourself out of a life worth living.

Top 10 Catch Phrases That Need To Die

2009-06-10T22:17:00.000-07:00

Top 10 Catch Phrases That Need To Die

1. That's Hot
If your not being ironic when you say the phrase "That's Hot" Someone needs to bury you alive with a poodle. For those of you who are still using ironically...it's time we retire it we are only giving the rest of the world an excuse.

2. FAIL.
This phrase went much the way of "Goood" (Napoleon Dynamite) it was funny for a while, than became a serious descriptor for one's actions or state of being, now hearing "epic fail" makes me want to epically punch someone in the face.

Suggested alternative? Win. It is applicable in more situations anyway. When someone does something awesome...WIN, in a situation that would normally call for "fail" you can use the term "win" in a sarcastic manner. NOTE: "fail at life" is still acceptable if for no other reason that it was a popular and usefull phrase long before failblog.com

3. nom nom nom

Now this isn't a full blown catch phrase yet, but it is slowly popping up in more and more places I look. Mainly in blogs that I read, and twitter updates. I haven't heard anyone say "nom nom nom" in reference to something that is delicious yet, but ya know what? Why don't we abort that fucker right now. unless your an infant or a fucking cartoon there is no reason for you to say "nom nom nom" and as for writing nom nom nom what happened to mmmm? that was working just fine thank you. anytime I read nom nom nom it makes me want to slice a nuns throat open because frankly....I think God should cry when you make a fucking decision like that. Just put it away...stop before it starts, or soon, you wont be able to look at yourself in the mirror anymore.

4. Anything Dane Cook has said before 2009
I'm not going to start to get down on Dane Cook. He has an audience and his latest comedy central spot wasn't half bad but old Dane Cook...congratulations frat boys you killed him. It used to be a shocking and hilarious deceleration of discontent to say something makes you want to "punch a baby" , however, now it's old, its tired and it is no longer shocking. Start coming up with your own shocking phrases to express your unhappiness. Remember back a few when i said nom nom nom made me want to slice open a nuns throat? You know why that's funny? BECAUSE PEOPLE HAVEN'T BEEN SAYING IT FOR THE PAST THREE YEARS EVERY TIME SOMETHING MAKES THEM FEEL MILDLY annoyed ! If you come up with something that involves babies more power to you but stop ripping off an act that stopped being funny three years ago.

5. BFF
The only thing your telling people when you introduce your best friend as your bff is that you think your at fourth grade recess. It's mainly a girl thing that got popular because Paris the cunt Hilton used it to describe Nikkie Richy...and now Paris has a show looking for a new best friend...which tells me it never meant anything anyway. put down your adolescence and join the rest of the adult world.

6.Do Work Son.
When not used ironically this phrase is as asinine as get er done (which I'm not mentioning because i think people are finally starting to forget it exists) and once again irony lovers...stop giving the rest of the world an excuse. Now I will say this I have caught myself using this phrase more than a few times and every time I do I feel I've lost a tooth and am that much closer to fucking a relative. if your not having banjo wars in deep woods while raping city folk you have no excuse to use this phrase...you should know better.

7.fml
The term Fuck my life is fine when it is a single utterance of discontent at an unfortunate event. a get a flat tire, or get pulled over by the cops it's okay to say once maybe even twice "oh fuck my life" However saying, or writing fml or f my life at every mishap that happens to disrupt your life is unacceptable. It was only funny when someone had a truly extraordinary fuck up of a day. but if you ever find your self typing or saying "I was late for work today fml" I want you to punch yourself as hard as you can in the crotch...and ladies don't think you get off light...i expect a earnest boob punch from you. fml has just turned into a cheap ploy to gain sympathy for your mundane life or possibly your self inflicted misfortunes. ANd I'm done dealing with it.

8. Funsies
"for funsies" is a virus. the ies at the end of funsies started latching its self on to any word it could find and I for one am tired of hearing grown ass adults talk like they just got done learning how to make macaronie art. it used to be kind of cute when scrubs said it but now it is just a way of softening the blow of your answer when someone asks you why you were being a dick. "why did you just hit me?" "for funsies" if your guilty of that your cute pass is now revoked and are subject to proper punishment for excessive douchery.

9. I'm not gonna lie.
on rare occasions this is acceptable. Like when said by your doctor "I'm not gonna lie...this is gonna hurt." he has an MD...he's allowed. however when used as a transition for every word that comes out of your mouth it makes you sound like a jack ass. Unless you are saying something that I can immediately verify as false chances are I'm taking your word for it anyway so stop reinforcing your reliability and just get on with the goddamn story.

10. lets play beer pong
Okay so this isn't a real catch phrase I just want people to stop asking. If all your party consists of is a rousing beer pong tournament I have news for you...it isn't a fucking party.

Final thoughts.

Looking back at this list I realize the majority of these are the fault of the frat boy. So we either need to end fraternities or kill frat boys...I'm cool with either.

God Is In The Rain

2009-06-06T15:59:00.000-07:00

:::Disclaimer::: I realize this is long...I tried to shorten it I really did But I found that every word was necessary in order for me to fully express my feelings on this matter. I still feel this is a poor reflection of what I am trying to convey but if you don't want to read through this whole thing and don't mind not getting the full affect cus you just don't have the time (it happens) the last couple paragraphs are pretty much the gist of what I'm trying to get at in this blog:::::also some of the regualr readers have already read this blog, I thought however that it needed to be in my blogger collection so I'm re posting it here as well.:::

I was just outside in a soft thunder storm, the first thunder storm of June. I have always felt a spiritual connection with, in and around water, especially rain. When I was old enough to enjoy storms I used to go out on our porch and stand in the rain. Every time there was a storm I made a conscious effort to spend at least some time standing in it. I would lift my head up and try and watch a rain drop fall. I used to speak to God in every way imaginable. A soft sentiment of gratitude, a vulnerable moment of fear, a reverent questioning. However, my most memorable moments with God in the rain were the angry ones. Screaming at the night sky filled with fire, daring God to take a shot at me. Begging him with all the rage I could muster to throw anything he could at me. One night I can remember in particular.

I was at a prayer meeting my freshman year of high school. My Grandfathers girlfriend's daughter had died of brain cancer, (and yes you read that correctly...I'm third generation dysfunctional and proud of it). I wasn't close with this woman but i knew my grandfather was (this was after he died). Even though I didn't know her well I knew two things to be true, before my grandfather died she was set to be my new Aunt in law, and she had very young children she was leaving behind.

After the funeral I was enraged and that was not lost on anyone at the prayer meeting. At one point I threw down my bible at the foot of the alter and barged out of the church into the storm. I pounded my fists against a tree trunk and I screamed as loudly as I could. I bellowed a Righteous yap of indignation. I screamed to the heavens "WHY DO YOU HAVE US QUESTION YOU! HOW ARE THOSE KIDS SUPPOSED TO BUY INTO YOUR SHIT NOW! FIRST MY GRANDFATHER NOW THIS, DAMN YOU!" I should probably mention this was only months after my grandpa died...so I was still kind of dealing with that. After I had screamed so hard my sides hurt I fell to my knees and sprawled out on my back. What I expected was water to fill my mouth and creep down my throat . I wasn't trying to kill myself I was just trying to tempt God into showing me he gave a damn. I wanted him to care enough to at least scare me into reverence. I wanted rain in my lungs, or the tree next to me to be struck by lightning anything that would show me that God gave a shit that I hated his guts at that moment.

It was during this moment of selfish questioning two of the men in my small group came out and helped me up. Drenched in rain Jeff and Jacob gave me a hug and asked if I wanted to talk. I just started to walk back inside, I could feel there hands on my back leading me to the door.
I was an angry young man (still kinda am by the way) and wanted God to be as angry as me...but apparently God doesn't work in the way of intimidation...if he is there it would appear that he works in the hands of those that love us.

As anyone who knows me can tell you I haven't been in the best shape lately. But tonight I feel things have been put into perspective. For the past couple years my grip on that feeling that I'm not alone has faded away entirely. I think what really upset/upsets me is that I have to live with myself...I realize how this reads but I really think I just want someone else to be able to truly understand whats going on in my head. I need company in my head. But that isn't the point.

I went outside tonight and stood in the rain. Every drop that fell on my shoulders and my chest felt exactly the same as the hands on my back that night. They made me feel what I felt when Pastor B would give me a hug, or when any one I admired gave me a pat on the back. That reassurance of self worth, that acknowledgment that I do in fact exist.

I found myself having another conversation with God tonight, the same, and yet entirely different from nights past. I can no longer bring myself to ask God for anything or about anything. I've stopped viewing God as a person like me. The phrase that comes to mind, "God is in the rain" I'm sure there is a more reputable source for that quote than V for Vendetta but it's the only one I can think of.

That is the only way I can see God now. The organic force that binds all life together. God is in the rain, the soil, fire, wind. God is in your family, in your friends, in your soul. I suppose "in" is not correct...more like apart of...or even still, IS. Asking God for anything can be momentarily comforting but Life is going to do what it is going to do. God is going to do what God is going to do. Yahweh is not a man or a woman, not a person you can call but an entity that is in and of and is everything. The comfort I felt tonight was not that God has a plan, or that God is listening but that I'm not alone. Even if you don't believe that "God" the entity exists, maybe that's just not what YOU call it however, I think you would be hard pressed not to acknowledge that we are all connected.

The same rain that fell on me fell on billions of others at some point, it's the same water that was swam in by children half way across the world...it's puddles driven in, 5 thousand miles away, its touched billions and now it's touched me. Things like that...are God. the idea of Yahweh connecting everything together is somehow so much more comforting than the idea that "He" is watching with "his" playbook. The world is what it is, don't question the bad, don't question the good because on a long enough time line, it is all ultimately the same. there are volumes on heaven and hell and how God is connected to it. But as far as "God among us" I feel that approaching the "God walks with me" idiom literally is no where near as inspiring as "God is apart of me and everything else" Don't want to believe in God that's your prerogative...but to believe you are truly alone doesn't make sense when you step on the ground with your bare feet knowing that that soil reaches all the way across the world.

My point is that I felt the touch of God tonight. I felt like everything I thought about God in the past has changed. Romans comes to mind "For since the creation of the world God's invisible qualities—his eternal power and divine nature—have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that men are without excuse." Those invisible qualities (I believe) are what you feel in indescribable moments. Tonight I was shown one of those qualities and the only words I can use to describe it are "you're not alone"

Modern Day Sermon

2009-06-03T02:40:00.000-07:00

JESUS!
brought to you by God

Is the latest joy inducer. Throw away your pharmaceutical drugs, toss out your self help tapes and relieve yourself of the burden of self reliance. Because now with new JESUS! all of your sorrows will just melt away. Now with JESUS! you no longer have to take responsibility for anything you do, or for what you are unable to do. Miss that big promotion? That must be because JESUS! knew you weren't ready for it. Having trouble getting your life to work out, don't worry about pesky goal making, if you have JESUS! you can just trust things will work out the way they need to. JESUS! also comes with a variety of other attachments.

Order today and you can have.

-Unconditional Love
-A code to live your life by
-Someone to talk to when your by yourself

And if you call in the next ten minutes you'll also receive a belief in an after life, not just that but when you die you get VIP tickets to the after life. You also get complimentary forgiveness for all your wrong doings.

Worried about what Karma will befall you for not helping that old lady across the street? Well, with JESUS! you don't have to worry about that...in fact when someone brings "karma" up to you, we will provide you with handy pamphlets that explain to that person why there going to hell and you're not. For just the price of a weekly donation JESUS! can be in your life today.

JESUS! because it's the right thing to do.

JESUS! has not been approved by the FDA.

Welcome To The Shadow Box

2009-05-31T20:53:00.001-07:00

Few people have asked me the origin of the intro "Welcome To The Shadow Box". A phrase originally coined on my Youtube Vlog and carried over to both of my official blogs, including this one. The fact that no one asks, I feel, is interesting. I hope that people are not assuming I'm just a hack noir enthusiast. I would hope the lack of interest is just lack of interest. Either way, the very short story your about to read is a crude inspiration for a greater story I havn't as of yet started. This is the template for whats in my mind. It is what came to my mind the first time I said "hello and welcome to the shadow box" on camera. It isn't the reason for the unique welcome but it was inspired by it. For your reading pleasure consider this a preview of things to come.

You notice a Small box in the corner of your basement. You move closer to inspect this foreign object and a panic grows with every step. You don't know what the source of this anxiety is but you feel like whatever is in that box is forbidden, that thought alone beckons you closer. Your heart skips a beat as you pick up this black wooden box. It feels heavier than it should be, the thick wood feels rough to the touch.

Finally you guide your fingers to the top of the box but feel a resistance, as if something is holding the box shut. You're able to force the top open and the basement fills with a freezing wind. You force yourself to look inside but see only darkness, what appears to be a never ending darkness. This darkness had substance as if it were a thing. Your curiosity bids you to take the next step. You slowly reach your hand inside and find no bottom. Before you have the chance to experience confusion you feel a pulling on your arm. It is the darkness it has you. The further your arm reaches the closer you feel to hell. And than, in a moment your gone. The wind stops and the box closes...the room silent and unchanged, as if you had never entered it.

Welcome to The Shadow Box

out of the darkness

2008-11-05T14:01:00.000-08:00

This series of epic events warrant coming out of blog retirement. Let it not be said that when the world was changing and history was being made, I didn't use my voice.

First I'd like to say, not to sound cliched but i feel blessed and privileged to have witnessed this, not only that but to be in my 20s and to have seen all that i have seen in this country already, i FINALLY feel like i was/am apart of history. That my kids will look back on this time like I look back at the 60's and 70's and think " I hope we can do something like that" and when my kids ask about this exciting time i will be able to look them in the eye and say "i was there, and it was spectacular"

now past the warm fuzzy stuff (more of that to come at the end if that's what your looking for ) I want to say how utterly confused I am at the mixed reaction I am seeing on the blogisphere and Internet in general. I understand the undying loyalty to the John McCain of Eight years ago. He was a man I would be proud to vote for. The majority of his policies pre-bush were something i could stand behind.

However my question is, are those McCain supports confusing the McCain of then with the McCain of now? Until he sold his ideals up the river he wasn't a blip on the radar. He became a real contender for the republican nomination when he started "towing the line" andstopped thinking about what's good for this country.

Lets put aside the reason I totally understand voting for McCain. For instance Pastor Brian once told me he made a pact with God never to vote for anyone who was okay with abortion. Fora lot of people that issue is a make or break issue and I get it.
Lets also put aside the fact that a good amount of military personnel are voting for him out of a sense of camaraderie due to McCain's service to this country and his time in a pow camp. That stuff I get.

What I don't get is how women every where are not offended at the implication that they would vote for him just because he has a female running mate. What I don't get is how people aren't scared shitless of McCain's Ideas because of how closely they mirror bush's policies. What I don't get is how people don't realize how drastic a change we need.

I Don't understand how someone can look at Obama"s policies, his plans, his attitude in general and think "oh shit this country is doomed" and yet somehow NOT think that about everything McCain has stood for this past 23 months.

Okay I'm done with the logistics now on to somethings that have offended me personally.

I am offended at the implications some are making that MY vote was a vote made with no logical thinking but all emotional impulse. I am also offended at the implication that the black vote especially, shouldn't be respected simply because Obama is black. If your people had been oppressed for 2 hundred years that would be a factor for you as well. lets not forget that we are not many generations away from Jim crow laws, my grandmother probably yours as well, have seen "white only" establishments.
but putting that aside, given McCain's policies and how closely they mirror Bush's, and given what those policies mean for the poor, and taking into account that the majority of the poor in this country happen to be black, you would have to be a very miss informed, self hating person to be black and still vote for McCain. to say black people don't understand the issues is to say that black people as a whole are not as smart as you, that is what you are saying with a statement like that.

and if that is your attitude i would rather not have another conversation with you ever again, especially one regarding politics or any thought provoking topic really. I just might lose hope in humanity and start a quest to destroy the earth....

ironically enough a lot of the people who have been telling me that a vote for Obama was nothing but emotional out cry are also the people that are voting simply out of party obligation, towing that red line.

but i wouldn't be so bold as to say everyone who voted for McCain was towing the red line. I simply don't understand there reasoning, but this whole "THIS COUNTRY IS DOOMED GOD HELP US" attitude is bull shit. anyone other than bush will put us somewhere better than were we are now.
of course there are the, something like 32 % of Americans who like bush.....but I'm fairly sure they live in caves far from the pulse of society...

I don't mind that people are upset there man lost, it is understandable.

I just wish that the McCain supporters were as gracious and graceful as McCain himself was last night. McCain looked and sounded hopeful, he was ready for the change Obama might bring, he was ready to go back to doing what we loved him for, reaching across the isles and helping to facilitate this change. McCain is now free to be the "maverick" he was eight years ago....because trust me all of you who will be sporting the "don't blame me i voted for the mavericks" shirts.... maverick is not what you would have gotten in that white house.

a trained mascot is what he would have been reduced to.

but enough about McCain, i want to stress how hopeful, and how excited I am for the next four years.

I finally have the leader that i have been praying for. I have been waiting to feel for my president what past generations felt for Kennedy, and i think this might just be that time. And maybe, with a lot of hard work and some luck, i will finally live in the country my parents loved. Maybe i will finally be able to look around at my country and not feel utter disillusionment.

a new age is here and i welcome it.

tips from a bouncer

2008-08-25T13:31:00.000-07:00

Tips from a bouncer.

I am so very tired of people telling me, a big man, how to take down a big man in a fight. every single person who is smaller than me has the same false opinion. "go for his knees and the fight is over." You couldn't be more wrong.

If you hit anyone in the knees at the right angle, no matter there size, there going down but to assume that big men are more susceptible there is ignorance.

I don't fight myself i tend to try and talk my way out of things but if you ever find yourself in a physical battle with me or someone my size and you don't happen to be a master in the art of karate' here is a few tips.

1. don't go for the knees.

let me tell you what happens to most people who while wrestling around with me (in more often than not a drunken state) go for my knees. I either out right block there attempt or since I'm going down I make sure all my weight falls on you. this can be achieved by a big man whether your getting the knees from the front or the back. Also what happens alot is our base of gravity is so strong we don't go down, now what you have done is make yourself vulnerable to blows to the spinal cord or just out right man handling.

2. Do not let him pick the venue.

If you really want to take a big guy down don't do it in an alley, don't do it in doors and for god's sake don't do it in a bar. you take the fight to the street. evasion is the key. A jab then a leap away. you have to be fast because big guys have a huge reach. If your in a rustle with a big guy do not get cocky and go in close stay far away. he will get tired and you will land more blows...granted you have a low chance of a KO in this situation but no matter what you do the chances of you knocking out someone twice your size is sketchy at best.

3. Fight dirty.
Now if things are really heated, for instance the guy your facing off with is really honestly trying to hurt you, he provoked you and now he wants to put you in the hospital do not be afraid to go for the testicles. (this go for guys only Lady's it doesn't matter what kind of fight your in, save for a friendly tussle and rumble with your boyfriend always go for the nuts...always, guys...have some more honor than that and save the nut shot for a rainy day)

4. Dont' be afraid to run.

if the guy is starting things with you and you don't want to deal with rules 1-3 just run. chances are the guy isn't a football player and hasn't been sprinting his arse off for the past three years
if you fight today and run away you live to fight another day.

5. Have a big friend.

It never hurts to even the odds and you will prob reduce the possibility of any fight breaking out at all.

6. Don't ever start it i don't care how drunk you are.

Big guys aren't scary...we really aren't. most the time we just want to have a good time like the rest of the world. However the guys i know who are scary are pushed to being that way. generally from my experience big guys are not confrontational but there is nothing that pushes our fuck you up button more than a piss ant drunk bastard with a Napoleon complex trying to show the ladies how big and strong he is...the odds are good your not going home the same way you showed up if you take this route.

in conclusion, fighting isn't a good thing you more often than not stop a confrontation with words. avoid fighting people twice your size in any instance but barring that if you do stumble into a tussle with Goliath hopefully these tips will help you go home intact.

also i hope i have quelled the idea that going for the knees on a big guy is a good idea.

28 weeks later, the review from hell

2007-12-02T00:28:00.000-08:00

SPOILERS GALORE...not like it matters for this heap. Just so you can’t whine at me later...be advised. Things in this review will “ruin” the movie for you. Even though the movie does a pretty good job of doing that it’s self.

28 weeks later is just another drop in the ocean of bad sequels. Here is a run down of this amazingly fantastic waste of money. It has been 28 weeks since the original infection of the “Rage Virus” and one city in Great Britain is being repopulated as an attempt to rebuild.
The story follows two kids who left the country during the crisis and now are back to be reunited with there father. There Father stayed behind with there mother to wait out the storm as it where. The mum was left for dead in a small cottage. Later it is learned that she is alive and a carrier of the virus. She is infected but shows no symptoms. Through a series of things trying to pose as plot twists the virus is let loose and the father is also infected leaving these two brats orphaned. That’s about where things stop being interesting.

At first glance this seems like a fantastic idea, and it would have been if Hollywood wouldn’t have fallen asleep at the wheel. Let’s start first with the incongruity of this flick. First, there is a scene in the movie where a corporal of some kind makes a point to say the virus can not cross species. I’m sorry was I sleeping in the beginning of the first movie and dream that the rage virus was originally given to us by monkeys? I get it, chimps are our cousins but there still a different species. Also, the interactions with the now infected father are a total betrayal of what the fist movie told us the Rage virus makes one do. The father now hunting down these kids is a piss poor attempt at depth and I for one am not buying it.

There was almost no plot development, minimal at best character development and absolutely no loyalty to the original movie. Even the violence in this flick was sub par. If your going to give me something at least give me some worth while action I can curl my toes to. You can’t even do that can you Hollywood?

I really think the entire special effects budget for this movie was spent on the four or five screen shots of the U.S. Government fire bombing an entire city. I usually frown on using special effects to cover up the fact that you have no story but for this movie it would have been appreciated.
If you have to see this movie, watch it at a friends house, and make sure they rented it. Don’t waist your money, don’t waist your time. More importantly don’t waist the experience of the first movie.

Thanks for reading,
Much love

The Deafening Silence of The Masses

2007-11-30T23:36:00.000-08:00

Do you hear that? The sirens have been raised, the battle call is being broadcast, the banners have been hoisted and nothing. Not an arm raised in resistance, not a voice calling for justice, just the, what used to be rare, silence of a nation losing it’s way. Oh, there may be a few small bands of rebels here and there but by and large our malls keep us fairly satisfied.

It seems to me (and maybe I am sounding sensationalist here) that our populous has been replaced by zombie masses. What injustices is our government trying to impose on us today? No, wait, that’s page 12 news, first I want to see what ‘Paris is wearing to the globes this year’. Are you kidding me? Our media has been turned into a glorified Maury show. I skipped through the news seven our eight times through out the day the other day and each time there was a half an hour to an hour long expose’ on “Who is the Baby’s daddy of Anna Nicole Smith’s kid.” Our country was waiting on pins and needles for paternity test results and mean while there passing bills that are bringing us one step closer to destroying our civil liberties.

We have allowed our government to declare wars on ideas, on abstracts. “The War On Terror” is a farce. It might as well be called “The piss poor excuse to grab our public by the balls”. War on Terror? Well how does one define terrorism? An act designed to instill fear? Well lock my sorry ass up then because every Halloween I do my best to put the fear of God in all small children walking up to my house for candy. Or maybe it is an act used to instill fear to persuade people to change there ideals. Than the news is guilty as sin. Every day there is new fear mongering being spewed out of CNN or FOX "News." Maybe Terrorism is just a violent act to induce fear in order to further there political agenda. Sounds like America to me. We allowed our President to loosen the reigns on the definition of torture. But most people were too busy mourning the great loss of Anna Nicole around the time that happened.

The Patriot act allows the government to access whatever piece of information they want. My library check outs used to be protected, not any more. They can review every single key stroke from my computer with out a reason. They can listen to my conversations without a warrant if they consider me a “combatant”. These days you know what it takes to be called one of those? Buy a Koran with your debit or credit card, I dare you.

If these things would have happened in a different time the streets would have run red with hippy activist blood. You would see the hoses brought out again, swat teams, dogs. There would be no were you could turn and not hear the message of the young unwashed masses. “Give us liberty or give us death!” Should be our generations motto. But unfortunately we seem to have traded that idealism for consumerism. “Give me Starbucks or ..I’ll be upset...”

Maybe this seems a little out there for you. I must be exaggerating. That’s fine, you can think that it’s your right. I will say this though, the conspiracy theorists of the sixties...there fears are being realized in our generation. This isn’t science fiction or fanatics fan fare anymore. This is our lives. Maybe you’re sitting there at your computer and your thinking “ well it hasn’t really touched me. I haven’t felt the effects of whatever he is talking about”. And to you I have this to say. If you wait for these actions to effect you it will be, effectively, to late.

We should be marching not because it has touched us, but because it has the possibility to. If there is another attack on U.S. Soil you better believe these realities will be kicking down your door. They will be kicking down your door , and they will be wearing Military camouflage.

Thanks for reading,
Much love.