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December 2006 Archives

December 21, 2006

Sights Seen Amidst Screams

Sights are seen amidst screams of torture and loss
A species on its final leg, lasting but for one final breath, fouled by feces
Yelling to God, demanding mercy, begging for understanding
Lying prostate before the storm
Slaughtered like lambs by the truths once shut out by fearful eyes
They throw themselves willingly before the God who has forsaken them
A knife, spilled blood, a corpse face down in mud
Food for the new dominant creatures, and you...
You stand there with blank expression
Crippled by fear, blinded by tears
Wishing back those years of nods and false smiles
The beers and the laughter, belief in hereafter
It has all come to this, a dagger in our back
And your hand on the hilt
It has all gone away, the cheap pleasures, the comforting distractions
It has all gone your way, and regret is your only companion in death

December 28, 2006

Let There Be Light!

God said, "Let there be light."
Nothing happened for a few moments.
Then God said, "Who the heck am I talking to?"

Bike Prayer

A little boy prayed for a bike. Then he realized God doesn't work that way, so he stole a bike and asked for forgiveness.

A Vision of Union

The smoke settles, unveiling a mountain built upon the ash and rubble of a crumbled dream.
One more frontier to explore, though I've been here once before.

December 29, 2006

A Time of Slowness and Head Trauma

There was a loud party at my apartment, and I had gone to my room for some peace and quiet. My friend Sarah followed me into the room to check on me, so I asked her to sit, and conversation ensued.

The topics of conversation are lost in memory, but I can still clearly visualize the change in the air as the discussion continued. The room was dark, lit only by the moon and stars outside my window. As Sarah spoke to me, her voice deepened in pitch and tone, as if a record had been slowed down briefly. She snapped back into the correct pitch, and the discussion continued.

A few minutes passed before it happened again. Shortly after the second occurance, the familiar halo formed around Sarah's head and body. It grew in thickness until it seemed she was immersed in jelly. Her movements became slower, and her voice again deepened. I could no longer understand what she was saying.

The solution to this dilemma was clear, so I immediately willed the jelly toward me, and allowed it to slowly enclose me in a gelatinous membrane. While the rest of the world moved at lightning speed, time, for me, had slowed immeasurably. I moved my hand, and although I could clearly feel all the familiar motor reactions, my hand merely crept before my field of vision, followed by its countless ghosts, moving at an equally patient pace.

I moved my hand again, this time making an effort to wave it in front of my face as quickly as my muscles would allow. I could feel the force of inertia . . . the tension in my arm . . . the air against my skin. Just to be sure, I asked Sarah if she had just seen my hand move quickly. She appeared confused, but gave the appropriate answer in her vastly deepened voice: "Yes . . . uhh . . . why?"

My only answer was a laugh. These mundane questions were for another time... when time itself flowed normally. I had just accomplished the impossible, and right now there was fun to be had. I had willed time to a near stop, and had no idea how long I could make it last.

With this realization, I bolted from my seat on the floor. My bedroom door was closed and approaching quickly, and I had not quite gotten my bearings on this new rate of time. I thought I might crash, but had enough time to analyze the situation, look at the door handle, reach toward it, and twist the knob just as my body reached the obsctruction. The door flew open to reveal a well-lit room filled with people drinking and smoking.

I thought for several moments about this crowd. When they turn, will they see what I see? Will they see me moving at blinding speeds, or at slow speeds... or at normal speed? Do I even like these people? After several moments of pondering these questions, the sound of the door crashing open reached their ears, and eyes began turning in my direction.

Before their eyes had time to focus, I was outside in the cold winter air, taking deep breaths into my lungs. I could feel the cold air as it entered my nostrils, made its way through my trachea, down into my lungs.

It occurred to me that running was a particularly amusing spectacle, as I glanced down at my feet and saw them moving as though I were swimming in molasses - although my basic understanding of physics confirmed that I was running at a normal pace.

This was my most amusing observation yet. No matter how fast I ran, I would still perceive my movement in extreme slow motion. So I ran . . . and I ran faster. I pushed myself harder than I ever had. The faster I ran, the more I pushed, until my feet were gliding over the asphalt like a gazelle, every step a massive leap forward. My feet began to blur, as did the ground, and still I pushed faster. The distance covered by every step was my only reference to my actual speed, and I realized I had probably never run so quickly. Yet I had never moved so slowly. My world was gelatinous and slow, yet I could use the physics around me to determine my speed relative to the speed of normal experience.

As my feet crossed from asphalt into grass, I lifted my eyes from my slow moving feet to survey the landscape ahead. As my eyes lifted, I saw an obstruction in my path. It was a set of monkey bars in the playground for the children of my apartment complex. The children were shorter than me, so the wooden board holding the bars in place was roughly forehead height.

I had plenty of time to analyze the situation. Inertia had not gone away with my slowing of perceptions. I realized that there simply was not enough time to make appropriate adjustments adjustments in order to prevent impact with my skull, so I watched in wonder as the board very slowly approached me in my final step, before being awoken by a horrified Sarah and a laughing roommate. I lifted my head to scan my surroundings and make sense of what had happened, and found myself lying in grass. I touched my head, and my hand came away bloody.

I asked what had happened, and my roommate David explained that everyone was partying, and I had suddenly darted from my room and out the front door so quickly that the only person who had time to see me was him . . . and only because he had been looking at my door at that moment pondering when I would come out to join the party.

I asked how long I had been out, and noticed Sarah's eyes filling with tears. She told me five minutes had passed and that I had just layed there limp while they pushed and yelled at me. They were about to call an ambulance when I finally opened my eyes.

"What the hell were you doing? I've never seen anybody run that fast."

I replied, "But I've never moved so slowly! Watch!" I had realized that time was still under my control. I wanted to demonstrate my new powers, but in the haze of my head trauma, it didn't occur to me that they wouldn't see it.

I took only one step before my head crashed into the very same spot that had knocked me out the first time.

This time they had me awake in only a matter of seconds. They helped me inside, and with a head soaked in fresh blood, I finally joined the party.

The Voice

The pain is forgotten when I stare too long
Eyes burn, stomach churns, and still I fall
Inward, into that vast expanse of mind
No sign of land below, just this expansive glow
And still I know, this is home
All alone, my sins atoned, I fall
And still I know, this is home

Stared too long, and hoped too strongly
For the daydream I’m lost in
To one day soften these wicked scars
I lick my wounds, and savor the blood
My landing is soon
And still that voice beckons
Calls me forth to that distant place inside me
To put this madness behind me
Never alone, but often lost
I need only follow that voice
To find my way home

And here I am, gutted and ready to consume
My pain an open door
An open sore, for anyone to see and touch
I sacrifice my life, but it’s not much
I wish only that I had more to give
More time to live
I cry once more for the days that are lost
And try once more to get my message across
Eyes and ears open, I can see through the haze
My gaze passes all around, perpetually amazed
At this vast expanse of mind
These layers of wisdom and thoughts entertwined
Lost in myself, but never alone
I know just where I am, and I know this is home

The Key to the Mirror

The clouds have cleared and I’ve found myself steering down a desolate road into a distant sunrise on the horizon, a dimmed and distant memory of sight and sound now found and made flesh beseeching my minds eye, yet just out of reach; still I try.

Trails of dust lie before me on the beaten path leading to my rebirth, left behind by the many who have passed these crossroads before me. Familiar terrain so frighteningly new, a frontier to explore that never grows old.

With the rising of the sun, each memory is replaced by another, and yet more as the dam collapses, flooding my mind to the point of drowning in a sea of forgotten joys.

The memory returns of a mirror that burns within a brilliant ring of flames, capturing in its reflection the world as a better place. Gaining entry to its world took a key that was given and misplaced . . . a key that is sure to find me once again.

December 30, 2006

What Is Your Pleasure, Sir?

I keep getting emails from people who put quotes from famous people in their signatures. Sometimes it could be a quote from renowned philosopher Donald Trump, while other times the quote might be attributed to some guy named Yeats. I thought this was an excellent idea, so I'm going to be including in all of my email signatures quotes from my personal role model, poetic master and lyrical wizard Pinhead. Examples include:

"Pain has a face. Allow me to show it to you."

"I . . . am . . . pain"

"Human dreams... such fertile ground for the seeds of torment."

"You think your nighttime world is closed to me? Your mind is so naked. A book that yearns to be read. A door that begs to be opened."

"Down the dark decades of your pain, this will seem like a memory of Heaven."

"Your suffering will be legendary, even in hell!"

"But please, feel free, explore. We have eternity to know your flesh."

"It is not hands that summon us. It is desire."

"Explorers in the further regions of experience. Demons to some. Angels to others."

"We have such sights to show you!"

"Do I look like some one who cares what God thinks?"

"You solved the box, we came, Now you must come with us. Taste our pleasures."

"You show me where Stalin is buried and I'll show you a Communist plot."

Recruiting Volunteers for Television Homicide Research

This is Part 1 of my "Kill the Television" series. I'll be performing lectures and teaching workshops with a megaphone each weekend on the corner of East and 2nd.

I'd like to try a little experiment that just might do some good in the world. If it works, we could start an epidemic that could lead to enhanced creativity, renewed motivation, a leap in understanding, the fall of our governments, a loss of prejudice, and maybe even the salvation of mankind himself.

The experiment is simple. I merely want all of my readers to cancel their cable television and unhook any antennas. Call now and cancel. It's that simple.

Hook up that dvd player. Relax and watch a movie. Eat some popcorn. Just stay away from those channels.

"But I can't watch movies 24 hours a day for two weeks straight! What am I supposed to do?" I honestly don't care. Stare at a wall. Look at porno. Even better, go camping. Write a book. Make a porno. Hug your family. Meditate. Learn to play the sitar. Invent a gadget. Still need ideas? Because I haven't watched tv in months - I can do this all day!

Once two weeks have passed, I'd like for you to write me regarding your experiences. Most likely you will inform me that the addiction has been broken, and you will thank me for freeing you of the chains that have kept you enslaved. Your new heightened intelligence quotient will help you to not only defeat and escape the slavemaster yourself, but to build underground railroads for all of your friends.

Just taste the freedom for two weeks. See how it feels.

December 31, 2006

Television Is Bad Parenting

This is Part 2 of my "Kill the Television" series. I'll be performing lectures and teaching workshops with a megaphone each weekend on the corner of East and 2nd.

"Television Is Bad Parenting"

If you found that title offensive, it's likely that you're a bad parent. So now that the offense is out of the way, we can move on.

If you're a parent, or might become one, please don't glaze over yet. Hear me out.

It all starts with evolution. Because of evolution, humans are social creatures - a necessity for survival when you don't have venomous fangs or claws. In order to work as teams, our ancestors were forced to develop a collective agreement on what's real, what is right and wrong, what's important in life, and what's best for mankind. Those agreements are, to some degree, built into our nature, but with development of technology there comes a time when we should stop and reassess the ways in which we've been programmed.

Consider the work of Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi, a research psychologist, regarding what he refers to as "Flow". Flow is the same as what athletes would call being in the zone. You're facing a challenge, and although your skills are up to the job, it requires total and absolute concentration. Every ounce of your attention is on the task at hand, because distractions could mean failure. Csikszentmihalyi found that people feel best about themselves and most satisfied with their lives when they experience this state on a regular basis. Anyone who has ever achieved this state of mind (which is most of us) can attest to its effects, but most of us don't know how to achieve it at will.

Csikszentmihalyi's research has only uncovered one solid way to accomplish this, and that is to constantly challenge yourself, and to constantly improve.

So it seems that the optimal state of man occurs when he is constantly striving for improvement, as individuals and as a species . . . constantly pushing himself, constantly raising the bar, facing new challenges, accumulating knowledge and wisdom, and improving. A life of ease and comfort is probably what most people are aiming for, but studies have consistently shown that people are least content with their lives when they're doing passive activities, like watching the television. People enjoy life when they're doing something meaningful. You might enjoy watching your favorite shows, but when you weigh that against the things you could be achieving with the television off, the comparison is clear.

Here's my personal experience:

Several years ago, I moved into a new place and decided for the immediate future to forsake my cable television. It was supposed to be temporary. I had a lot to get done, and had to stay focused. I didn't want any distractions.

I assumed it would be tough and that I would be ordering cable in a matter of days, but I was wrong. For a day or so I wasn't sure what to do other than to make some music. So I sat in my home studio and worked for days straight. At first I would get tired after a while and want to take a break . . . and I had no idea what to do. I didn't want to stop the momentum; I just didn't have the energy left. So I stared at a wall until finally I got bored and went back in the studio. When I left the house, at least a small piece of my mind would always be looking for inspiration. I bought a digital voice recorder so that I could record ideas any time they came to me. Within a few weeks I had a collection of ideas so extensive that I'll never be able to finish them all.

This is my point: Removing the single largest offender of time waste creates a vacuum that has to be filled. You're not going to stare at the wall forever, and neither will your child. Your mind will get bored and look for ideas, and soon you'll be doing something different to fill your time. Whatever that thing is, surely it will be better for you than televegetating. If it happens to be something productive, that's even better.

Would anybody possibly disagree with the opinion that mankind would be better off if we lived our lives in this way, constantly learning and creating challenges rather than sitting in front of the television? If we agree on that much, then how can you possibly justify putting your child in front of a television set? Do you think that if your child has no television, he or she won't find something else to do? Maybe when deprived of television, children will go out and play with some friends. Maybe they'll get some exercise. Maybe children will begin reading books, like they used to do in ancient times. They may want to take some lessons in something. Maybe they'll do some thinking.

I'm not saying this is all without risk, though . . . it may force you to spend more time with them.

About December 2006

This page contains all entries posted to Danny 101 in December 2006. They are listed from oldest to newest.

November 2006 is the previous archive.

January 2007 is the next archive.

Many more can be found on the main index page or by looking through the archives.