Katt Scan

To some people...this tree looks like a tree.

To me...it always looked like a brain.

It's a question of our perception.

Such busy brains we have...

You mentioned praying...or not praying.

Call it what you like...we all want to be heard. No one wants to feel they are alone in the universe.

If you want to pray to a fictional character...why not pick one from Star Trek? Data is my main man...he represents the one true religion...science/logic, and he is not so insecure that you cannot have other gods before him.

There are as many gods as atoms and molecules. Hell, pray to yourself. If the wheelchair physics chap is correct...then everything that exists does so as a result of the whims and vagaries of our cerebral cortex.

So maybe tonight...ask your brain to meditate on some of that. I'm not saying I'm right...but I am saying if you are indeed a product of my consciousness...then I'm pretty sure I didn't manifest you to be sad or unhealthy.

I conjured you up so you could be the god of your own world...to have it all...just exactly as you like it.

I conjured you...so you could conjure me.

& Indeed everyone around you. And everything.



You can have anything you want. The possibilities are endless...

because that's the way we made it.


For Katt...

Explorer XIII

 

Yay. 

 

We just found another planet we can bugger up. 

 

I'm glad it's too far away. 

 

I'd want our species a little more evolved before I'd send us anywhere near another pristine environment...

 

We have plenty of work to do right here. 

 

On ourselves. 

 

 

 

That's the kind of exploration we should be chasing...    

London Calling

MAY 3, 1991: The bodies of Margaret Penny and Claire Acocks were found in Old London Coiffure salon in Portland, murdered in cold blood.  

In broad daylight. 

Not a day goes by where I don't think of these poor ladies.  I walk past the place most days. 

These were ordinary small town ladies, just like your mother...just like mine. 


And their only crime...cutting and styling people's hair. 


Ladies...god failed you. 

justice...hopefully...will not. 


 
RIP... 

No Butts.

Someone was nasty to me again...& I wrote a long essay detailing all the things that hurt me...& how upset I was, I added a little bit about my human rights, and how I was offended, and insulted and blah blah blah-de-blah...

& you know what?  I thought, instead of bitching...why not have a big laugh at myself?  So...I found this picture I have been hiding since last year, me, getting up from my TV channel changing spot...so self conscious.  

my FAT legs, my FAT belly, my FAT head...I felt SO scaredy scaredy scared!  Oh NO!!  Someone might see my big fat legs, my big fat belly and my big fat head!!   

It's nonsense.  We go on with some crap, don't we?  

John? Mate...you are fat because YOU ATE TOO MUCH FOOD AND FAILED TO SUPPLEMENT YOUR WRITING WITH MORE WALKING!   

NO ONE GIVES A SHIT!  ABOUT HOW YOU LET YOURSELF GO, or THAT YOU HAVE A STUPID HEAD, OR ANY OF THAT!  IF THEY CARE ABOUT ANYTHING...IT'S NOT YOUR ACTUAL HEAD!  IT'S WHAT'S IN IT!  DAMN!!  

& my belly?  Oh belly...'I really want to see you...i really want to be with you, but it takes so long...my lord...my sweet...belly...(sorry, George Harrison...it just popped in there...)  But he's right!  Buddha had a big BELLY!  

& he was the wisest dude on the planet!  

Forget your gripes, and woes, forget all your bullshit...all your hurt feelings and grazed anus...

HAVE SOME FUN!!

So...l had a good belly laugh at my FAT legs, my FAT belly, my FAT head...& laughed until all the BUTT-HURT went away!!  


We take ourselves SO seriously, don't we?  Get involved in these little skirmishes so easily?  & they don't mean anything; not really.  

We only think they do.  

From now on...whenever I find myself taking myself too seriously, I'm going to change the channel.  

& I'm gonna look at this picture, me with my big fat legs, and my big fat belly, and my big fat head...& I'm going to have a good fat LAUGH at myself.  


& I will remember...I'm only here for a cup of coffee.  


& if the going gets tough...

the TOUGH HAVE A GOOD BELLY LAUGH!!  

Three Strikes

After all this time on planet earth, I know only three things for sure.  

Number 1:  My number 1 doesn't smell anywhere near as bad as other people's.  

Number 2:  See number 1. 

Number 3:  If I have to remember three things at a time...I can never remember the last one.       

Open Mind Club

No, I'm not gay, thank you, I think I would know by now; I don't care much for cock...except my own, and that's only so I can pop it in lovely loving lady places from time to time.

BUT...I have enjoyed the company of gay people...they know how to laugh at...pretty much everything, including themselves. I think most of them extract more from a day than most of us get from an entire life.

I noticed...I can breathe in a place full of gays, because they know what it is to FIGHT for who they are.

It's an old fashioned thing called 'guts'.

They might touch your bottom...but I don't mind it. I feel safe enough...it's all in fun. Harmless tomfoolery.

I don't mind having my bottom pinched...I don't lose my fuckin' mind over and it reach for my bazooka...I feel flattered. I know who I am, what I like...but I have a little extra room for others who think differently.

We straight people are so uptight many of us just miss the fuckin' show completely.

Not all gays are love and light...I'm sure some of them are uptight, bitchy, catty...overly camp...whatever...

but I never met them.

But I have met plenty of straight cocksuckers.

Gays? They know how to party, and they party like it's 69 69.


If you think I'm wrong? Call me out. I'll show you toontown, doubting thomas.

Careful though, you might have a thing called 'fun'.


If I could meet a woman who had the verve, life, soul and passion of a gay...I'd be in pig heaven.

Now, if only I could meet a nice pig...

gáire mo thóin amach...

Thanks Linkel Mirtschin...a real waltz down memory lane. Yikes...I look like Shane McGowan in the first one! Don't remember dad knocking out quite so many teeth! However, I do remember a lot of rum, sodomy and the lash, much akin to McGowan. Thanks for helping me laugh about it. I guess being a descendant of Shakespeare...I have a soft spot for drama. AND comedy. I reckon if we can just laugh at our aches and pains and woes...we are almost there.

日本刀 nihontō

Ever come to a point where a big big BIG project finally comes to fruition? Inexplicably and miraculously it just seems to be gelling...& you can't quite believe it?? You knock a few last chunks off here and there, like Rembrandt, and you take a few steps back...you tip toe around it, being careful not to knock it over, in case you were actually wrong, and you are worried one false move might bugger it all up? Knock it to the floor, & it will shatter in a million pieces? It's equal parts fear, and complete disbelief that something I have been working on for most of my adult life is finally...finally...oh jesus...shhhh....just shh...

no, wait a second...fear is the LAST thing I want to feel. I'm TIRED of fear. Enough is enough. I'm going back in there, and I'm gonna' knock it over a few times. I'm going to knock that bastard off it's pedestal.

I think it's finally tough enough; and so am I.

I've been tiptoing around this precious mother fucker for long enough. It's a bit like... those dudes who work on a samurai sword for years. They fold the coarse metal over and over again, hammer the shit out of it, douse it in cold water, repeat the process over and over...until it is done.

They do this...so the fucker is too tough to break.

The book and I...we have been through the same process. It was like a battle...between the two of us.

I cannot fear it any longer...now it is almost beaten.

Maybe it's just a question of changing how I look at it.

& me.

This 'aint no fine bone china, my friends, this...


is tempered fuckin' steel...


& when the man and the blade are both as tough as one another...It's time to call a truce, make friends, and take the battle outside.


Just the two of us.


It's time to rock 'n' roll.

Toilet Trained...

Someone was nasty to me on FB...so instead of my usual bullshit...I wrote a giant essay...covering all my fuck off points, beat by beat, saved it, posted it off into the ether, and felt all better without having to go all Charlie Bronson on anyone.

Simple as that.

Like taking a big poo, really...except I flushed it, instead of leaving it on someone's doorstep.


(If someone really upsets me...then I guess I can always go to their house and leave an ACTUAL poo. That's what real life is for; when the shit gets real...)

The Shining.

Funny who you bump into; this dude sold me my first car... back in the...I guess it was the Nixon administration. He worked with my old man.

He asked me how dad was, and it just came out. I said 'he drunk himself to death in a horror show even Steven King could not imagine.'

Arthur shook his head. 'I heard he liked a drink'.

Yes, you could say that.

I always liked Arthur, and his wife Norma. Salt of the earth. Even as a kid, I knew they were special. I haven't seen them since then. It's a curious and beautiful feeling to see someone after all that time...him and his wife haven't changed. They just have this light around them...they 'shine'.

I used to shine. So did dad.

I guess the trick is to figure out a way to go the distance, without letting anyone or anything steal that 'shine'.


Shine on, crazy diamonds...

'Jabber Loki'

Talk about god of mischief…

 

I must run this by you…just in case I am finally taking that last escalator downward, into irreversible Madness. 

 

I wrote a blog yesterday & I had a couple of versions of it- as per usual.  Just in case you read it…I called the piece ‘LIKE DRAGON’.  I was talking about the whole ‘like’ button phenomena, the approval of people’s posts, etc.  I wrote a passage about how I thought it might be possible the lust for ‘likes’ may say something about us as people, the way we were brought up, our unique personality quirks, etc. 

 

I know in my case…I am not so much addicted to ‘likes’; I am scared of saying the wrong thing, and the more I thought about it, the more I realised…I was afraid of being beaten for it.  A complex neurosis, that would need more space to explore than a blog, & it is not my intention to do that here now, but merely make mention of what is often behind such questions as, ‘why didn’t I get a like’? 

 

You see, I thought it was only me who thought about these type of things.  Not true.  Many of us busy our already busy brains with ephemera and trivia.  So much of what we do here and out in the world is a direct reflection of something that happened in our formative years.  Some random event in our young life can drive a pattern of neurosis, ensuring we push a slow handcart full of manure into hell.  In my opinion, once we can confront these sorts of things… we can set ourselves free for much more nourishing endeavours. 

 

SO…I talked about how, in my case, it is not uncommon for me to comment on something someone else has said…& if they do not like it?  I wonder why…assume I said something wrong…& brace myself to be ‘beaten’, in the same way I was by father. 

 

Beaten, de-friended, blocked…you get the picture. 

 

Pathetic stuff, really. 

 

You could argue someone like me is pathological and should NOT be let near a social network, let alone a ‘like’ button!  & you may have a point.  I could easily go away somewhere quiet & silence myself forever.  However…I am essentially a social creature, & have not given up on the possibility that I might have something constructive to society, & so I do my best.  Along the way, I think it is always worth recognising thee little human quirks…& the response from people to my blog was encouraging.  It meant, that others experience some of the same personality quirks.  Desire for approval, fear of rejection, etc.  &it really touched me to see that a handful of people admitted that the yen for approval was an addiction.

 

The first step to recovery.  

 

This brings people closer together…& even though to my mind there are much worse addictions…they can be annoying, and can also reveal deeper darker neurosis. 

 

But I won’t revisit the theme any further beyond that. 

 

But I did want to make mention that I ended the discussion in question by saying something about how people end up ‘chasing the dragon’…of course, a reference to heroin addiction, and I fell upon a witty title, ‘Like Dragon’, based I guess on the character the ‘Luck Dragon’ in ‘The Never-ending Story’, to denote one possible way of viewing the phenomena of ‘chasing likes’ in a light hearted way. 

 

So, I settled on the version of the blog I was happy with, made a few adjustments, saved it onto a USB, and pasted it into the blog template. 

 

I published, and posted, and went back over the final version as I usually do…& much to my dismay…

 

the final version was missing the passage that explained my reasoning for the title.  The ‘chasing the dragon stuff’.  Which meant…

 

the title made no sense.  

 

I could not find the passage anywhere. 

 

&even if I had found it…by the time I noticed the error…50 or 60 people had read it, so…it is kind of pointless. 

 

I still cannot find it.  & I save religiously. 

 

Now…it’s really no big deal.  My blog is just my Dear Diary…but now so many people are actually reading it…

 

I like to make sure I send out the best version possible. 

 

It’s spooky; the entire section that tied everything together…

 

Gone. 

 

Some jobs are hard enough, but when things like this conspire against you…it is like the universe is fucking with you. 

 

 

I need to ask you…is it just me…or is there a trickster spirit out there, fucking with you in small but very fucking annoying ways???

 

 

Or does he only hate me???

 

I cannot wait to find out how the little bastard mangles this blog…

I wait with baited breath. 

 

  

  

“SOUND AND FURY, BABY”

Ron was dead right; people are TOO thin in their skin.  
What gets me is how some people act like their wall is some kind of piece of art; the ground-breaking genre busting novel of the century, or the Louvre.  When in reality- our FB page is like a newspaper.  
By the next day…it’s old news and chip wrapper. 
How we manage to hold onto stuff that happens here mystifies me.  
And I include myself.  
I post all sorts of stuff; it helps keep my mind limber and sharpens my communication and writing skills, not to mention my social skills. 
But after I have written my shit…95% of readers have forgotten 95% of my stuff.  You might pay attention if you have a crush on someone, or harbour a secret hatred for them…(don’t forget, some people can’t wait to hate…they are addicted to it like crack, can’t wait to prove a point or make someone feel bad…) but mostly?  It’s disposable as bog roll.  Once it’s posted…unless you show your tossil or your giny or something…it’s gone.  Like sand in the wind.  

So don’t take it personally.  


If you don’t like something someone has said…walk away.  


& if you come back, and you still don’t like what they say…


Then get rid of them.  


Then get your head read.  It shouldn’t be that big a deal, and if you are still simmering and stewing over some random disposable comment someone might have made while nursing a headache, or a giant gas bill or something…then it is YOU who needs the attention. 


Most people who we interact with a few minutes later are onto someone else, & they have forgotten all about us. 


This medium is for the temporary…which is kinda’ good…because let’s face it…it’s ALL temporary.  


Beyond that?






Sound and fury, baby…

 

 

 

Super Nothing...

Speaking of superheroes...

Stop being so po-faced; it's not a 'graphic novel'...it's a Comic Book. Take a look at the 'Overstreet COMIC Book Price Guide' once in a while, you tosser.

& while we're on the subject...that little plastic man in a superhero costume? It's not an action figure...

it's a goddamned DOLLY!!!



(getting cranky over ephemeral crap because I can't do anything about the real problems Number 42.)

“LIKE DRAGON”

For Melanie.

Something happened yesterday that could easily be called miraculous. 

I posted something about the ‘like’ button, and got a lot of interesting comments.  The original post was…I going to sprint quite quickly through this today because I have a lot of writing at home to finish, but it needs to be acknowledged.  If I don't...I won't be able to concentrate.  

Hell, I couldn't concentrate last night; couldn't stop thinking about...

such honesty.  It bowled me over. 

Anyway, this was my original post; it's still out there; 

‘when you post a comment on someone's thread, and everyone else around you gets a 'like' except you...buddy...that's yr ass.’

It was meant to be humourous, flip.  I was referring to an isolated incident last week, & I was interested in what my brain was doing when I saw that all twenty odd comments around mine in a thread were ‘liked’...

every one except mine. 

I observed something very strange going on in my head when I saw it. When I observe behaviour in myself that is potentially suspicious, I generally like to consult with my ‘peeps’. 

It was an isolated incident…& it only came up because everyone around me was liked, and not me.  

(I am NOT referring to when you leave a comment on someone’s wall, & you are the only one, and you are not ‘liked’, or a bunch of you are there and none of you are ‘liked’…

I am talking about when you are the only one in a group not acknowledged. 

I DID mention that you never know what is going on in someone's life; maybe they just missed you out...maybe they are having a bad day...

they might be angry at you...

or it could be ALL...

or NONE of the above.  We should NEVER make assumptions about other people's lives.  


So...I wanted to take a closer look at all that went on in my brain, over this one tiny insignificant thing.  

I did ask her about it…and she assured me it was fine.   So really?  It was a lot of dram over nothing.  Which is why I made a joke out of it.  

But you can't just say 'I was just kidding', and walk away from it...Everyone knows, behind every joke...is a TRUTH.  

So...was it just a lot of drama over nothing, or is there something else going on here??


I am related to Shakespeare, so naturally I love drama.  

& this?  A lot of sound an fury, signifying...nothing.  



But is it nothing?  Why did this 'like' crap matter??

I wrote this afterward, and it's true; 


‘i don't like to offend people without checking. i'm not always Subtle Cecil. So...i find the 'like' button has a practical use for me.  i did say i am not a 'like' junkie, although it is nice when you get approval from the village, so, you have to learn to balance things, without letting the ego run riot. 

however, i know for a fact there there are people out there who like nothing more than exposing someone as an egotist. if they enjoy that...

i say let the baby have it's bottle. i have other concerns, so i don't worry about being accused of it.'t 

& that's true.  Some people out there will always want to find fault; it gives them pleasure.  What matters is whether or not YOU can look at yourself in the mirror.  


So why is this even an issue?  Why is a 'like' so important?

For ME??  

"i find the 'like' button on someone else's wall very very handy. You see, owing to a number of factors...(upbringing, trauma, addiction issues, etc) for a grown man, i have the social skills of a rutting jackyl. So...I find the 'like' button very handy for checking to make sure I comment appropriately, and not offensively. if i do not get a 'like' & everyone else does...to me that could indicate that i have said the wrong thing, and i check to make sure, and then make the necessary adjustments. it helps me be a better, more socially empathetic human being. on the other hand...you don't want to surrender your personality totally, either. it's a balancing act, right?"

As I said, I would not regard myself as a ‘like addict’…I guess I am trying to keep an eye on my social interaction, so I can learn to contribute better.  

And, as a writer, it is handy to write things, and see which ones work, which don’t, and if possible why.

I also mentioned that I had poor social skills.  So the like button helped me to contribute better. 

Now, only a liar would pretend they don’t care about the 'likes'.

HOWEVER…I would like to think that I have evolved as a human being since first joining FB.  I have made a concerted effort, particularly over the last few years, to find a way to improve my social skills, improve my writing, and improve my contribution to human kind. 

So, if there is anyone here who thinks I have not evolved in any way shape or form, and are merely garnering attention…

then I have been able to facilitate NO emotional, spiritual, psychological or practical growth.  & thus, would be better off killing myself forthwith and hurling myself in the ocean as chum. 

I don’t know much, but I know this…I am a much better person than I was a few years ago, and that is a direct result of my interaction with people on FB.  THAT much I will admit.  Cheerfully.

But my friend Melanie admitted she was a ‘like addict’.  Which I think is incredibly courageous and self aware.  

I don’t always know why I post things; sometimes, it is to alleviate the drudgery of my work.  Writing is satisfying, but anyone who says there is not a lot of drudgery is probably not doing it right.  Sometimes it is to reach out and touch another person. 

In this case, I wanted to be funny about something is kind of juvenile; you see, sometimes I am embarrassed that at this age, I am STILL working on crap like this.  


Whether I am watching my ‘likes’ because I am trying to monitor my social skills in case I should venture into the inappropriate, or begging for attention, is kind of irrelevant.  To still be working on your social skills at my age is pretty pathetic. Sometimes I post things in order to help my subconscious deal with something so subtle and ingrained, it will not even share it willingly with my conscious mind, so I have to coax it out with stuff on FB.  

But this time…I got a gift more valuable than all the riches in Persia. I got a young woman admitting her vulnerability, her human frailty. 

If I was to expose a vulnerability?  It would be that I do not want to be alone.  & when I post something, and a human being responds by showing me something of herself, who she is…


it is the most beautiful gift in the world.  For a human being to open up like that and expose their vulnerability…is a miracle to me. 

It inspires me to keep going.