Bits o' Wits o' Jarubla

2012-01-18T16:07:00.003-07:00

untitled

trees complete
but their games are slow
not so slow that the mountains note them
but slow enough that a man
notices, barely.
in my back yard
a japanese elm and an engelman spruce
grew along another in one such games:
the elm, with its drooping tresses
lashed the bristle pine
in the wind
year after year
'till the elm was so bent
trunk so broken
it had to be replaced with a stump
the spruce, majestic on one side
and looking pecked on the other
(as a hen would be, fresh from her winter coop)
remains.
strange contrast,
One stiffly still standing
the other, too motile for its good.
I note the space and denuded branches
but also that
the spruce is no less majestic
in its misshape
despite the years and wear,
the victr'y to the strong endurer

-Jay 11-2-2010

2012-01-18T16:00:00.003-07:00

untitled

The crickets are now subdued
and like the stalwart few after
a concert
or a movie at the theater
still there
still there
still there
their voices and silence
are pregnant clouds in a cool cool air
expectant vapors.
I note them, with a
a chill too cool for my shorts and bare feet
yet my soles mark another season change
'tis thirtytwo I've seen and
I want more
still here
still here
still here

-Jay 10-23-2010

2012-01-18T15:54:00.002-07:00

untitled

the smell of night
with its cool cool dreams
speak darkness and mystery
vision and silence
each discover'd atlantean breath spilling
out in liquid cold waves
so crashed, so crashing.
so love the night, all nights,
cool awareness of that dark
soft curving hips of the moon and
sweet mystery of stars.
night reminds me of her
her scented breath the skies,
her curves the moon
her eyes the orbs of heaven.
oh summer, oh winter, oh spring!
these languid coolnesses
and my supine soul

-Jay 10-5-2010

2012-01-18T15:49:00.002-07:00

untitled

it always seems to be the
little ones who take ill
when the weather changes.
and late nights
and very early mornings
awake with fever:
too warm bodies
labored breathings
and congested coughs
symptoms all adding up
to one or two miserable children.
it's rainy mornings
like today
which help me realize that all
is in God's hands~
rainy nights and sick children

-Jay 10-6-2010

2012-01-18T13:34:00.002-07:00

untitled

the crickets sing in daylight
fall, hinting the air
their paean, their swang song
urgent now
sensing time is short
and winter so soon
I note them all around me now
as I walk under dark trees
cycling the cooling streets
no longer solely the vocal inhabitants of night
now they sing all hours:
time precious
time precious
time precious
their now ne'r ending call

-Jay 9-13-2010

2012-01-18T13:31:00.002-07:00

untitled

Fugue for me, a fugue
and when gone
this epitath:
My mote transfigured!

-Jay 8-6-2010

2012-01-12T14:11:00.002-07:00

Viridian Derivative

he was a transcendental traveler
enjoyed the audience of stars
his mind went on vacation
an out-o'-body trip to Mars

'The gas trees bloom right now on Venus
in the solst'ce of the year'
he wore occidental khakis
on the beach while sipping beer

He would flash and wax poetic
of these places n'ver seen
swearing truth and TRUTH t'gether
construct'd entirely new means

'tho his mind has slipped completely
and that fiction had evolved
there was peace behind his glasses
his earthbound problems had been solved

I left him with is ramblings
his toes flirtin' with the sea
and I fled to solid reasoning
back to life, to earth, to me

Pr'haps he's still there statuestanding
in cenotes of space and time
his book-stuff'd pockets bulging
and a corona, and that rim perch'd lime

-Jay 8-3-2010 at 0001

2012-01-12T14:01:00.003-07:00

Untitled

'twas a midnight burrito
with a scoop of icedcream
that i inhaled with gusto
and promoted odd's dream

Whoa! The weird and silly
so mined up from my gut,
now how wondr'us the trees then
later t'sprout from this nut!

-Jay 8-2-2010 at 21:55

2012-01-12T13:57:00.003-07:00

How Beautiful The Feet of Him

I saw a man
with beautiful shoes today
and I wondered at them
if the shit hits the fan
will boiled Italian loafers
taste good?
I'll pass on the Gucci footwear,
thanks.
and work, antlike,
against the coming
winter

-Jay 8-2-2010

2012-01-12T13:42:00.003-07:00

To Move Sideways

I hide in my pearlescent husk,
a mormon
the new guy
the one who doesn't yet understand the dynamic.
my silent thoughts in self defense
and
I feel my grip on this role slipping
eeling past me
rolling onto another, were I not careful~
yet
I've got miles to keep
and promises before I sleep.
Ope thou mine eyes and mind,
prick my heart,
touch life to my dumb tongue
fluid words in their flow
(which now feels so numb, so cold!)
coax this crab oh Lord
from that small jealous shell
to discard it for another nautiloid!

1-12-2012 at 14:43

-Jay

2012-01-12T13:33:00.002-07:00

Untitled, 5-11-2010 at 0902

liquid light this morning
reflected back from verglas pools
the biting air and stillness
fitting partners to my morning ride
into work
it's rained for thirty-six hours
and
thoughts of sun and shade
are hid by banks of fog
mountains shrouded
dampened quietly in the mist
thank you for fenders and goretex Lord:
for rain and contrast,
for the sting of exertion,
for my bikeride into work this morning

-Jay

2012-01-05T13:59:00.002-07:00

Untitled, 11-15-09

we people, divided by death
so isolated by time
just past three generations
I'd not know you in a line

and yet I feel a something
that our diversion is illusion
(but thrice told so by the market)
I stumble in confusion

no, listen. believe.
time is but mere construct
and observance, mortal man!
it feigns to erode, destruct

and so lonely, melting stone
moving mountain into sea:
our mere drop of observation
is simply the bit we see

God's road is everlasting
His scope from span to span
tautening the world and universe
and across the hearts of man

-Jay

2012-01-03T16:51:00.004-07:00

Untitled, 10-16-09)

How disoriented we must be!
we earth locked, after this sphere
our entire plane changed
color, light, taste, sound
all our senses tied to that orb
and newborn again
thrust into a more astral existence
made light, made fire,
crystal fire and coruscant burning
oh soul!
soul so newly torn from body
thrust into afterlife
bone and sinew separated from spirit
how like an infant we then feel,
seeking a parent to clarity
to orient and hold us
teach us to walk again (in that sphere)
reorient, clarify, direct--
if 'twer not for a loving God
who knows beginning from end
(all variations on His theme)
we'd be lost
sailors in the shell
rudderless in space!
motherless child in a faceless crowd
yet orientation must be:
we earthborn, new in that sphere
a new plane
new color, new light, new taste, new sound

-Jay

2012-01-03T16:48:00.004-07:00

Hullo Visitor!

I am mining my journal (a black 8 x 7 moleskine) for some of my poetry from the past 26-ish months. I have not posted them here before, and do so in attempt to remove the bushel from my lit candlestick. Read on, and if you like anything, please comment

Regards,
Jay

2011-12-25T00:34:00.002-07:00

I apologize for not posting more here.

I will post more. I write my thoughts in my moleskine these days; blame it on an analog youth, but I love the feel of pen and paper. I'll relay more of those scribblings here, y'all have my word.

For tonight, g'night

-Jay

2011-12-25T00:01:00.005-07:00

Christmas morning, Lord, and 12:01 am
and my grudging heart supplicates to be made a bit softer.
All this worldly care!
these wrappings of things so giftly
and not a thing among them
gold or
frankincense or
myrrh.
Bald books, and toys, and socks and things
all none which I'd take with me were I to die:
(on that journey, only kept are time and love and learning)
Whyso does Christmas feel so like striving?
Why a struggle and not filled with peace?
Grant me peace Lord
as the centering turn of a still cool night
ripost my struggle to
the repose of a child, sweet breath of the innocent.
Please bear from me these feelings selfish and
prick my mind in remembrance of You crucifed.
Further, to look for those so presently trussed
(if bound in such way by others or self doing; no matter),
let me be one who remembers Thy admonition:
'Behold thy mother!'
let them into my heart, my truest home
my considerations of them as I'd consider me, or mine own.
Unhood mine eyes to see them as Thou would
for Thine is the kingdom, and the power and the glory, forever.

-Jay

My Review of LEATHER BALM

2011-10-31T20:44:00.001-06:00

Originally submitted at Johnston & Murphy

Essential for protecting your footwear investment. Leather Balm cleans shoes before polishing.

Best Ever

By shoe eohs from St Louis, MO on 10/31/2011

Pros: Extends Shoe Life, Easy To Use

Best Uses: Regular Maintenance

Describe Yourself: Conservative

I was convinced of this product while shopping in Park City back in 1999. I had some J&M shoes and was in the store there looking when the salesperson brought up the balm--he actually poured a bit out and rubbed it on his hands as lotion! Funny bit that, but it's stuck with me, and the balm has been a staple since then in the household. If you've been looking for a good leather conditioning cream, look no further. Buy, apply, repeat. 'Tween the balm and shoetrees/allowing the shoes to rest 24 hours between wearing will maximize the life of your shoes.

(legalese)

My Review of SHULER BICYCLE

2011-10-31T20:37:00.001-06:00

Originally submitted at Johnston & Murphy

Crafted of supple full-grain leather with super-soft sheepskin lining for a comfortable fit and feel. Multi-layered sheepskin footbed, padded tongue and collar offer cushioned comfort. Molded latex rubber sole for flexibility.

Superb

By shoe eohs from St Louis, MO on 10/31/2011

Sizing: Feels true to size

Width: Feels true to width

Pros: Comfortable, Attractive Design, Durable, Flexible

Best Uses: Wear To Work

Describe Yourself: Comfort Driven

I have been wearing J&M for about 15 years now, class-act company, good prices, excellent value. Get a set of their shoe trees, allow your shoes to rest 24 hours between wearing,(rotate them), hit them up with some of the leather balm as needed and you'll get a decade out of them. Has worked for me.

(legalese)

2011-08-11T20:23:00.006-06:00

I am exploring a job position with NetApp Sales in the Midwest (Missouri). I've had two interviews and expect a half-dozen more before the process is complete. I could wax on about my feelings, the highs and lows I have felt while consideering variables like a higher wage, moving my wife and kids 22 hours away, relocating away from both Melissa's and my families. I am not going to wax on about the strange emotional roller coaster. Let it suffice that there have been some sleepless nights while we are considering our options.

We are praying a lot, and ask that you do the same for us. With the state of the economy, the idea of moving out of our support net is a bit spooky. I believe God will guide all of us if we will allow Him room to do so. I am not the most religious person ever, but I do believe God loves me, and wants me to be happy. :)

The other considerations I have been making are about the nature of work, and how it relates to me, how it intertwines with my own cultural views. So allow me to post a few points which matter to me:

-My work needs to be meaningful.
-My work must fill a commercial need, and my efforts must be noticed.
-I need to be a contributing member of a team.
-The team which I am part of must have a corporate philosophy of corroboration.
-My family and I must prosper.
-Live where I work/minimal travel. I will see my children grow up.

Regardless of where I end up, I am thankful to be working. Lots of folks have been unemployed for months and months, and have given up hope. I hope our country can dig itself out of the hole we're all in, and I am very glad to be currently employed.

-Jay

2011-08-08T20:50:00.002-06:00

I love the sentiment of "Scotland Forever" (Alba gu brath) and feel the pull of my family's ancestry. I honor that Scottish heritage from where I've come.

In trying to conjugate the proper phrasing for an "America Forever" I cobbled this together. Please let me know if this is correct or if it needs to be changed a wee bit:

Aimeireaga gu brath

Thanks in advance. I could find nada on the internet with this phrase.

-Jay

2011-07-22T14:40:00.002-06:00

I submitted this article earlier in the week to Survivalblog and Mr. Rawles chose it for a published post. Woo-hoo!

http://www.survivalblog.com/2011/07/two_letters_re_beans_bullets_b.html

Here is a copy of the article I sent in:

"Mr. Rawles,
In light of the several articles the last few days on bicycles, I’d like to suggest a few handy tips I have found for those folks looking to get into it for free or very low cost. I pair this consideration with a few choice images of the subway shutdown in New York a few years ago (December 20th 2005). An image of a man painfully perched on his daughter’s pink streamer bike riding to work in his three piece business suit was burned forever in my brain and reinforced the need for having cheap reliable transportation. My article is on how to get into it on the cheap.

Bicycles are a superb mode of transportation, and in an emergency situation they really should be a leveraged option in your survival tool belt—if my article can convince you of this, I believe you’ll realize that it sure beats walking!

My wife and I are big yard sale attendees. Yard sales are the gold mine of bike scrounging. I have been given bicycles by folks who had previously removed and sold a part or two from the bike to another buyer. It is easy to replace those parts with little out-of-pocket expense. One time I acquired a Japanese ‘gas pipe’ bike (a Shogun), named such parlance because the frame is non-buted (buting is where the walls of the bike frame are tapered thinner in the middle and thicker at the ends to save weight and increase strength), and if one were to cut the frame in half, cut a bit of old gas pipe in half, then held them end-to-end, they’d look the same. I got that bike for free because it was missing a seat post—the lady at the yard sale was almost apologetic about the bike when I asked about it and she was happy I saved her a trip to the dump. I spent some time and built it into a single speed rig some eight years ago. It is very low-maintenance, has 3M reflective tape across all the various tubing for night safety, fenders for inclement weather, and about a snowball’s chance of ever getting stolen. I love its simplicity and usefulness. I love that I got it for next to nothing (I did later upgrade parts on it, simply due to preference), and I appreciate its simplicity.

Don’t get me wrong here, the wunderbikes they ride in the pros like you see on the Tour de France are engineering marvels. I choose cruddy bikes instead. I used to own a very nice Specialized S-Works Enduro. (Remind me sometime to tell you about the time I showed up on the doorstep of the house ten years ago with that bike. My Memsahib certainly clarified a few points regarding what constituted proper purchases to my newlywed brain on that day.) That bike had all the bells and whistles, but I sold it. I have since awoken to the fact that I can create something with my hands, on the cheap, that I truly am passionate about. I love cheap bikes.

As I previously mentioned, yard sales are very good for picking up old bikes for next to nothing. Most just need a few parts tightened and oiled, the tubes inflated and they are good to go. I have picked up several Specialized and Trek rigs for under $20 which just needed a good washing (use Simple Green degreaser) and some oil on the chain and derailleurs. I make it a point to always ask about certain things at yard sales, and for some odd reason, old bikes are things folks seem to be ashamed of. I am unsure why this is. Old tools go for a fair bit, and old guns too—bikes go for a song.

I would be remiss if I did not mention Sheldon Brown, the king of Internet bicycle retrofitting. His web site is pretty old school (read: simple early 1990s graphics, et cetera) but it really has a ton of helpful information. Have an old odd duck French bike? He has info on it. SheldonBrown.com is his reference library, and it has helped me with plans several times. It is a great resource.

My friends know I am into fixing up old bikes. I’ve traded odd jobs for bikes and bike parts, I’ve done side jobs repairing bikes for people, and my buddies always tell me when they find a deal. Networking about interests will always lead you some interesting contacts. I also believe that God knows us, and if we’ll talk to Him, he will place opportunities in our path. Ask Him to open your eyes, and when the opportunity comes along, take it, and remember to say a prayer of thanks.

I regularly visit the bike shops in my area and try to send business their way. They are helpful in figuring out stuff I am stumped with, and their advice is always free. I have found that kindness gets me a long way (as a general rule, but especially in bike shops); bicycle mechanics will almost always spend a few moments to chat with you about your project. Methinks they find a kindred soul in someone who refurbishes decrepit bikes. The other nice thing about the shop is they usually have a parts bin (read: used take-offs, parts, mostly nothing new or matching) you can poke around in. I always offer money for any parts bin stuff which I find that fit, but I have yet to pay for any of my scrounging.

Another option, somewhat controversial is dumpster diving. Now, before you write it off as an impossibility, it does work. I realize that some states may have ordinances against finding treasures in the trash pile, but I have buddies who have found entire bikes and some very usable parts checking the trash behind their local bike shops. [JWR Adds: Only dumpster dive with permission, and in accordance with state and local laws.]

Now, as to tools, you can pick up a pretty decent Chinese made repair kit off eBay or Amazon for about $130. I got one for Christmas near a decade ago. True, it isn’t as beautiful as a set of blue handled Park Tools, but I have yet to wear out any of my gear. I got a bottom bracket tool, a crank puller, hex wrenches, cone wrenches, chain whip and freewheel/lockring wrench, spoke wrenches, and a bunch of other bike tool stuff. Some of the specialty tools can be bought separately; the more general tools you may already have. My kit has really only let me down thus far on an old 27” (read: pre 700 CC modern road/29” mountain) wheel set—I did not have the right 3-splined tool to take off the screw on freewheel, and I needed a BMX style freewheel mounted. The old stuff requires older tools; standards back in the day were not necessarily adopted across the various manufacturers like they are today. Sometimes it is worth the shop fixing it for you rather than buying a tool you may not ever use again.

My final suggestion is a bike helmet. I know they are not ‘cool’ or hip. I also know most of us of the prepper mentality would not think of ourselves as either of those descriptions. I can tell you I have crashed several times in the past thirty years and each time I was wearing a brain bucket I was grateful I had head protection. Keep your brain safe!

Now, keep in mind, these tips are for the shade tree bike mechanic. I welcome feedback on this from the fine folks who make a living turning a wrench on bicycles—I am always learning and am passionate about making cruddy old bikes into something beautiful and functional. Hopefully you folks can take something from my thoughts here today and add another option to your survival tool belt. Bikes are not just for kids, nor do they have to just be a survival thing you never use. Google Albert Einstein on a bicycle sometime if you need a smile (the picture always elicits a grin from me). Get a bike, ride with your family—you will not regret it.

God Bless you, Avalanche Lily and the kids, - Jay in Utah"

I haven't written much of anything in the last few months. Wrote this on Wednesday and it felt great to be writing again, even for something as simple as this. As my 10th grade English teacher Mrs. Wallace used to say I "wrote about something I was passionate about".

Enjoy the read, and let me know what you think?
-Jay

2011-05-21T21:33:00.003-06:00

Today

I'm comfortable in my own skin
as if I've come to some place
where painstaking pieces
fin'lly look more than bits of sky, and earth;
and this new illustration
is epoch, is salve,
and stepping into an age portends significance.

These hands, these feet, these eyes
the one hath need of the other
each cudgel'd.
none shall be cut off
all are me
I am not ashamed

Today I am aware of my whole
not hands, or feet, or eyes
no integuments scatter'd
some flipped to show cardboard backing
I'm now entire
plenary pieces
and shame banished

-JRB 5/21/2011

2011-03-25T23:14:00.003-06:00

Round

I saw six kids tonight
aged just slightly more than children
standing in line at the Krispy Kreme
their teen babyfaces shining at the prospect
of free donuts for 'A's' on their report cards.
Oh God, was I ever so young?
one so hairless and smooth cheeked?
'Times I feel like I am twice my age
not just flirting with thirty-three.
not one who's p'rhaps third-to-half already spent his life
(as the statisticians would suggest).
With the way that time flashes by
no sanguine stroll in it's Sunday best
But gasping as't furiously sprints past
in numbing, hard to believe,
four-minute-mile sort of pace;
soon my own children, boys and girl
will be standing expectantly in line somewhere
chatting happily with their own dates
young teens, the world their oyster.
Oblivious to the middle aged man behind them
who took such note of their naivete
(with a pensive half-hid smile).
Life and time is one Round
a wheel
and after we fritter our stay living in t'ht circle
another carries it forward
another unborn child, the zygotes of zygotes;
a part of that thanatopsis
all of us each in turn
on or one sweet roll.

-Jay
3/25/2011

My Christmas Wish List in a Down Economy

2010-11-05T20:43:00.008-06:00

In light of our trillions of dollars of debt, with nearly 15 million people out of work, and the very real threat of a double-dip recession here is my wish list of gear for the uncertain future.

Please note you'll see no 12' sarissa, no gilded pillum, you'll not even see a long bar chain saw (all for potential zombie action!). The future I see is one of very tight economic belts, of continued job loss, and a very depressed and devalued dollar.

So without further ado, my list:

$50 worth of junk silver (preferably pre-1964 dimes, and $50 by no means has to be the cap):)
Pistol ammo in any of the major calibers
.22 ammo
12 Gauge ammo
Thermal underwear (the under armour or Cabelas house brand)
The last two Wheel of Time books by Brandon Sanderson (or any good book for that matter)
Craftsman bow saw with replacement blades
Craftsman Metric wrench set (I already have the standard)
Fiberglass handled shovels (square and round nose)
8 lb maul and splitting wedge
Blue Fox #2 spinner baits
Spools of 8 lb mono fishing line
Leather work gloves
Wheelbarrow
Large box of bicycle tube patches (vulcanizing rubber type)
Wool Blankets (the old mil surplus)
A dozen 5-6 gallon food grade buckets
Gamma seal lids
Roll of 4-5 mil contractor bags
Roll of Visqueen
4-5 rolls duct tape
#10 can of survival seeds (heirloom quality, non-hybrid)
5 Gallon bucket of Utah honey

And I nearly forgot, a box of aluminum foil from Costco (the large roll), so I can continue to make those foil beanies so the aliens/gov't won't be able to read my brainwaves (sarcasm of course, they can both see right through tin/aluminium foil) ;)

-Jay

Update

2010-10-13T19:03:00.003-06:00

I've been busy writing old school thoughts in my moleskine, too busy at work to spend a few moments to check anything but work email, let alone personal email, or even *gasp* my blog.

Apologies reader.

My writing has been reduced--between work, parenting, the odd few hours I can help Melissa with her canning, and repairing my bicycle (don't ask)--to jotting a few tittles in my black leather notebook.

Loose prose, ideas about stories ranging from Zombies to more mundane, shopping lists, rants. Very little of my writing has been electronic, not even in forum posts.

I've been throwing firewood, cleaning dust bunnies, folding laundry, kissing boo-boos, draining a swamp cooler, avoiding the overgrown front lawn, picking grapes, oogling pistols on ksl.com, reading survivalblog.com, and sleeping.

I will try to be better about posting here, meantime share a bit what you've been up to, will you?

-Jay

2010-09-27T21:00:00.003-06:00

In our age of throw-away everything, the the Ball Mason Jar should serve as a revelation. Something to be reused repeatedly, passed down the generations even. When was the last time you used something 50 years old to store food? I did, and just last night. The Ball Mason Jar wold seem to be a constant in that all too ethereal world of food production; it should serve to play the same idea with all our things.

Am I suggesting that a handheld or a stereo should be functional after fifty years? No, but shouldn't something at the very least be able to be re-engineered and re-employed? If the half life of an electronic device is 2 years, what does that say to our attention spans?

We are meant for far greater, we are meant for more.

-Jay Blair

2010-08-30T02:24:00.005-06:00

I am up too late and reading about the Circus which seems to have set up its tent in our government. The only thing missing are the salt peanuts

Tums, anyone? If you've got 'em, do pass me three. I prefer the mixed berry; we buy them in bulk from Costco.

What is it about the lunacy with money we've got going on? Why am I smelling a very nasty red herring? Why does Mr Ben think printing off a few more sheets of green and white Christmas wrapping paper and throwing it out there to the bankers will help? Why doesn't our President fully embrace the unemployment numbers, give credence to the unloading of T-bills by the Chinese, discuss the horrid housing market, and most of all leave the &@*^ private market alone? Why doesn't he allow the companies to painfully fail and new ones to come up in their place?

I realize some of our problems have been around a while. I realize my ramblings are on subjects that no magic bullet will fix. I also realize I am no socialist. I am conservative with a bent of libertarian. My blog is heavily flavored with those two seasonings.

I feel frazzled by our President (oh, and I don't care if he is Christian or Muslim, BTW), frazzled by our former President (erosion of privacy anyone?), and trying to find any glimmer of hope in the House, the Senate, or the Judicial branch of our government (on a side note, I am glad that Chicago v McDonald panned out the way it did).

Anyone else left wondering what the hell is happening to their country?

Time to buy some food stuffs humans, if you already haven't. It is time to pick up a few extra tins of stuff at the market, perhaps purchase a basic first aid kit, or acquire a 72 hour kit or bug out bag.

If you are one of the types who thinks this'll all pass--that your 401K is sacrosanct, that your pension is iron clad, or even that folks who prepare for things are a bit on the nutty side, I beg you to reconsider. If it even seems just a bit too much, do a google search for prepping or food storage, and try taking a few baby steps. Get your house in order. Even if it is just a little bit of something.

Even better, try to grow some stuff. Dig a little bit of your lawn out and plant some tomatoes (they'll taste better than store bought). You can thank me later.

The belts are gonna tighten farther folks, and being conservative with your funds is the smart hedge. That and it is pretty damn difficult to cook and eat a 50" OLED TV.

-Jay

2010-08-16T23:55:00.005-06:00

Work called during my vacation--I missed it, but heard the voicemail. Gotta love when a manager asks if you're 'making a colleague reinvent the wheel' because you forgot and neglected to complete a task.

Perhaps I am simply being persnickety about it. Perhaps my perception is not quite so black and white, and work is more of a gray area. Perhaps I am overreacting, and work with its plethora of veiled allusions really can be left at the door when one leaves the office.

With cell phones, no vacation is sacred, not even one in the mountains.

Yes Mr Hunt (legal speak: all names bearing any semblance to reality in this blog are pure happenstance, and in no way reflect any knowledge of the author of said work), I did not complete the report you foisted on me. No, I did not do it in hopes my colleague would be obligated in completing it. Yes, if you must know I do believe the scrambling of 60+ lives which my changing their schedules will do is asinine. No, I don't want to tell you where to shove your favorite Bic pen. And no, that wasn't my feces in your breakfast cereal last Friday.

Oy. What is it with middle management that makes them think of their workers as assets and liabilities? Why is it that people tend to be dehumanized in filling the jobs they have been hired to do? What is it about the office environment that makes a manager's words holy writ; and since we're asking a bunch of midnight philosophical questions, what happens when the inevitable pendulum changes that holy manager touch to the caress of leprosy?

I am no union goon--I do not advocate or endorse the backroom deals and threats accompanied by the sound of cracking knuckles. I do believe in respect, in fair opportunity and fair dispersal of work, in working hard, and completing the job. I also believe in folks leaving on vacation and having a break from the company and not being harassed by the company while on vacation. People work hard and deserve a break. I don't hold other folks' feet to the flame when they vacation; I expect others to extend the same courtesy for me.

Not too much to ask? A modicum of respect--a nice break where a manager treats one with benign neglect and allows that one to recharge the batteries. Allows them to pause before girding back up in business causal, arming himself with a red swingline stapler (they're better than the Boston stapler!) and a TPS report coversheet and leaping back into the fray.

But ladies and gentlemen, as I have said before, I am merely an unfrozen caveman lawyer, your world frightens and confuses me!

And on that note, my fictional philosophical ramblings are all posted out in algore's cyberspace. I am headed for bed.

'Gnight humans

-Jay

2010-08-08T16:52:00.002-06:00

It's been nearly a month since my last post, the rant about 'Inception' (I still feel it is a worthy film, btw, even after a month's worth of percolation). What have I been up to?

Time with Melissa and our kids

Work

Writing in my Moleskine

Driving in my paid for suburban with the windows rolled down (no AC)

Gardening

What are my recent developments?

I've cut the umbilical with Facebook--I log in maybe once a week to check updates

I have started lifting weights again

I finally got around to seeing "Despicable Me", "Shrek 4", and "Ironman 2"

I opened a checking account after going all cash for nearly three months

My kids have lost four teeth, gained 12 teeth, and think CTR rings come from the tooth fairy (LOL!)

I finally read Brandon Sanderson's "Mistborn" trillogy

I got a case for my ukulele

I learned about Philip Achille

I watched all the "Survivorman" DVDs

I got to shoot my new rifle

I finally got around to cleaning the toilets (sorry babe!)

I got to help my cousin Sara in her two day yard sale/fund raiser (who knew Cache County had such good yard sale traffic?)

The grapevine I planted 3 years ago finally has fruit on it!

I picked blackberries and apricots

My garden is doing well

-Jay

Nolan's 'Inception'

2010-07-16T03:00:00.004-06:00

If you only see one film this year, go see 'Inception'

I just came back from a midnight showing of the film. What a vision!

The writing, the score, the execution. Nolan should get an Oscar. The writer should get an Oscar. DiCaprio should get an Oscar.

It's vision is still fresh in my mind--the film is perhaps one of my top five now and I am picky.

Without elaborating anything, I insist that you watch the movie. Watch it and share your thoughts.

I am predicting a royal flush at Oscar...this film is going to sweep the Oscars.

-Jay

2010-06-02T19:34:00.003-06:00

Someone I know through the Internets has a handle of treatmewithbenignneglect

This is they way I feel--leave me alone, let me succeed, and don't fetter me with a zillion rules.

Let me be able to win or lose; let me do it myself.

I worry that we are a society who props up folks instead of letting them fail miserably. Why the artifice? Is it truly as one Woman in power said she's "in keeping with the values of Jesus Christ, the Word made Flesh."

Why do I disagree with the rhetoric? When someone says they are doing something, they should mean it, not just spin it.

I don't believe Nanci Pelosi. I don't believe that they are doing these forced changes out of respect for us.

I believe they do these things because they believe we cannot govern ourselves. That we cannot choose things which are free and good and autonomous.

And that scares me.

So if it comes to that, I just might have to change my handle to treatmewithbenignneglect as well.

Let me be please, let me be free.

-Jay

2010-05-06T23:05:00.003-06:00

Psalm

Oh God, I feel as if I were at times as Saul--the jaded angry king who can do no right thing, young usurper looking over my shoulder, satan ever handy with a vial of hemlock, so quick to tip it into my ear. Oh how music to soothe!

Work has been arduous lately. The past eighteen months have taxed me; one set of demands after another, escalating ad nauseum, moment after moment of apology, scrambling, scuttlebutt.

I make a sincere effort to be a husband and father when I am home, but most of the time I just feel fatigued. From work at work and more at home, and Saul creeps along the floorboards of my heart, occupying more space than David; calmed so strangely.

I know I sound cliche, even mundane. Millions have gone before me, spending their lives working at things they don't want to do. They worked and felt the waxing shadow of a spectre over their shoulder, felt the weight of a poised axehead above their heads and yet pressed on. Why should I be any different? Why should I feel I deserve more than they?

David played the lyre and Saul was comforted. David turned to God and Saul was angry.

I find myself seeking silent moments more often. I thank you for this God. I have been trying to speak less and listen more without interrupting the other speaker. Weighing their words not just for my own rebuttal, but for merits sake. I bite my tongue more, and the smart is not so great. Please take from me the bitten remark, the swallowed pride, the suppressed opine.

Perhaps oh Lord thou will make me more humble yet. I ask that my anger be drained away and a peace be there in it's stead. That my restless heart be calmed, my ear so filled be able to pick out the simple strains of wind in the pine boughs, the call of a meadowlark, the whisper of sun on my face and shoulders and hands.

Take this from me oh God, these threatening moments of despair. I give them to you. Take from me the thoughts of bleakness. Instead plant in me a hope for a better day. Take this slump from my shoulders. Make my back as a rod of iron. Take from me these downcast eyes. Fix my sight on the brazen serpent, my heart upon the treasures of heaven, my feet upon the straight and narrow way. Take from me this lonely stool. Set a chair at thy table, even a lowly one in an outer room, and pleased I'll rest in thy house.

Oh Lord make me a young David and not a Saul. Take my heart and whisper to it through the fire; and comfort me as I am fashioned form ore to gold. Selah

-JRB

2010-04-25T23:09:00.004-06:00

April 25, 2010

I want to share a little bit about myself tonight.

It's 23:11 at night, after a very busy but wonderful day. Today was my birthday and Melissa and I hosted a shindig at our apartment. We wanted to go to church this morning, and last night Graham was up throughout the night due to a combination of teething, a low-grade fever, and the flu (poor kid!). Needless to say both Melissa and I slept poorly, and the one person who saved us was my Dad (who is in town for a month-long visit, staying at each of his children's homes for 3-4 days). Dad and his impressive Uno skills kept the kids preoccupied for nearly two hours while Melissa Graham and I slept in.

Church was filling. It felt like the speaker was delivering a message tailored directly for me. The speaker was a recently returned missionary who spoke about God's will and how we should pray for that instead of asking for something which could potentially hurt another (for example asking for a day without rain when in reality the desert needs any rain possible). This struck a chord within me; I often feel I can compel God. Thankfully He is patient in my learning. :)

We prepared the house yesterday and continued to prep things after church, clearing out little clutter zones which have accumulated over the past 5-6 months. For me, cleaning is a panacea--not only does it have the obvious benefit of getting the house in order but I feel a mental weight lift as the little "get to it laters" are finally done.

I got to assemble a trampoline in the back yard (inherited from Melissa's folks), marinade chicken, clean the grill and set up chairs on the lawn. I felt ready for the family to visit.

Finally everyone arrived and I began the bratwurst, hot dogs and chicken. The food was a hit, the conversation great, and I got to be surrounded by a bunch of folks I think the world of. By the time the birthday song was sung I realized how real was all their love. It struck me like a hammer blow as they sung and I was humbled. How fortunate a man! What a great family I belong to! What a legacy I have come from!

My eldest sister, Anna had put together a few photo albums about our ancestors; my father as a youth, my great great great grandmother as a child, a newspaper clipping of my great grandfather's last day in court, right before he passed, arguing a case. How near that veil separating me from the afterlife today--It seemed a spiderweb across my face, and if I merely reached for it, pushing it away like a nussiance that I could lift it and see them all, My ancestors who care about their progeny. Forbears who lived, gathered at sibling birthday parties of their own, laughed, loved and died. I know they still ive on in the next world.

To them I write; I've not heard your voice nor known the inflections of it, but I feel as if I should, as if the time and space between us is naught and we have sat and eaten together, visiting in animated fashion about this or that. Your face is mine, and mine yours; my passions and interests most likely none too different. May hap my hand and yours, palms pressed together (as often a child will do) would show the same size and shape, handprints swirling is symphony, mirrors of one another.

This is a time for me to reflect; 32 years of life, years of moments, years of family around me, seen and unseen, my life moving from landmark to milestone as if in a dream. It occurs to me that those first dates in high school were half a life ago. Further that my childhood, such a foil compared to my sons, was twenty five years ago. My future, an easy to read map in the topography of my father's face; each crease and wrinkle spelling out a worry for his seven children, each furrow in his brow a contour line closer and closer in elevation.

One can learn a lot about self when surrounded by family, when surrounded by photos of their past, when surrounded by thoughts of how dear each heart is.

Absent tonight were Becky, Mom and Ma'am. I thought about you three and hope may hap you'll read this--knowing you were thought of, realizing you are loved, feeling you were missed. If I could hug you all I would, happy to see ach of you, glad to be near each of you.

It is late--the dog is snoring, his belly overfilled with a half dozen child-spilled hot dog and buns. All in the house are abed and I should be too, yet I write. I write to thank God for the life He gave me, for the great blessing of my family, and for the atonement of Christ. I thank Him for 32 years, and for the prospect of however many more He sees fit to send my way.

And for that, today was a wonderful birthday.

-Jay

2010-04-22T18:16:00.001-06:00

If you live in the Rockies and don't like the weather, just wait a few hours.

It was snowing this morning and now it's 60. Oh the joys of spring!

-Jay

2010-04-18T22:02:00.003-06:00

Altruism and the Boy

I was surprised tonight by someone. Someone I suppose I shouldn't have been startled by, yet it still happened. I was about my business and this person commented something cutting, on the fly, while they passed.

I wondered at it, wondered at the action this person took by venting such spleen, marveled at the fact that a change, any change, had elicited such a reaction. Why?

Is it the economy? I realize folks want more for less in today's market; it is that way straight across the board. That housing, retail, service industry, shareholder profits and cost cutting all add up to a great strain on people working in them. These all are great places to catch the pulse of a nation under financial duress.

These financial woes trickle down to the lowest man; do they justify foul language and callous attitude? Do the daily pressures the bottom breadwinners feel justify such action? Could the incident I had today be justified in any rational way?

I realize the path of the human heart is a maze. Through self-talk we justify anything. Through auto rationalization we embrace our actions. These combine over time and the experience builds our reality.

But how do these realities and our pseudo-empiricism mesh when brushed up against another very different cognizance on how life works? And where does the responsibility lie in the teaching?

As I age I see how patterns of selfishness in my past led me to believe in a certain reality. I realize I could simply justify my own actions or even insert substitute actions to suit my need. I rested at night on a pillow of my own naive invention.

I am by no means altruistic; reader please realize this fact. But I wonder at what point does the teacher painfully lead the learner along a path that will only result in odium on one of their parts? Does the teacher owe the student the pain that will bring them along the path to self-enlightenment?

Prometheus knew the price of fire, yet he gave it to man. What if Narcissus had been warned by that same sage? If in fact Prometheus had explained that pains of the liver were worth the realization that self was not the ultimate and only creature? Brought the child to the realization that the results were worth the possibility of eternal daily agony?

Narcissus, dear boy, hearken to my sage-like words. Your pains to come from today will teach you something if you will see it.

I hope you can open your eyes and behold it, despite the very possible pending anguish.

-Jay

2010-04-03T09:14:00.002-06:00

Is Jay Inactive? Does He Still Believe?

I am writing this on Easter Weekend, while some thoughts about a recent conversation my wife had concerning our church attendance are still fresh.

Pardon my rough-hewn planks of thought; if you know me, I am the atavistic sort, not quick witted, but have to think and edit, pounding out my thoughts instead of speaking them freely.

I want to allay some fears about me.

I may not be a super active member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, but I believe. I believe in the divinity of the Book of Mormon. I believe that God the Father and Jesus Christ the Savior appeared to the boy Joseph Smith as he knelt and prayed. I believe in the power of the Priesthood. I believe God, my Heavenly Father hears and answers my prayers.

I feel my savior Jesus Christ's love. I know he atoned for me, died and was resurrected for me.

I love my family, I love my wife, I love my kids. I want to be with them forever.

I am not by any means a saint, I cuss, I sin, I fail at times. But I know the gospel of Jesus Christ is true, and I look forward to the resurrection when all knees will bow and all tongues will confess that He is the Christ. I look forward to His Millennial reign.

To my family out there who may wonder about me, please don't. I believe. I acknowledge Thomas S Monson as the prophet, I love the Book of Mormon.

I love you all and want you to not worry about me. Pray for me, absolutely! I will continue to pray for all of you. If we are all praying for each other, what time is there for worry? Melissa and I keep you all in our prayers.

I am thankful to my loving Father in Heaven for so very much and am hopeful that He will always lead me to Him.

Thanks for listening and Happy Easter

-Jay

2010-03-31T04:04:00.003-06:00

I had an anonymous letter sent to me when I was a struggling youth, and the words have come to mind again in light of all the upheaval in the media/government.

For people of faith the background should be familiar

When you come to the Red Sea place in your life,
When in spite of all you can do
There is no way back, there is no way ‘round,
There is no other way but through
Then trust in the Lord with a faith supreme
‘Till the night and the storms are gone.
He will still the winds, He will part the waves,
and He'll say to your soul,
‘Go on!’

The poem is attributed to an unknown author.

-Jay

2010-03-30T04:58:00.001-06:00

Interesting article from Beck on Che, Socialism, Communism and Nazis:

http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,583732,00.html

2010-03-28T23:53:00.001-06:00

A bit of prose I neglected to upload:

At Sea

I found my place today
A tiny postage stamp of teak
Under the lifeboats, beside the salt spray
A miniscule nook of a place
Away from the throbbing music
And the throbbing pulse of youth
My solitude in itself an irony~
As only steel and glass, and a corner turned
And I’d moved from that chaos people choose
To the intimacy of the sea
The cool side of the ship, the blue water slipping darkly past
Rhythm of waves broken by the stern
Boiling white in cobalt blue
What an odd place,
Looking up at the hulking mass of lifeboat
Orange prisoner in Sisyphean chains
Cursed to remain, cursed if used.
And we’re headed south, just off Mexican shores
Bookended by horizon to horizon with no land in sight
The east side of the boat is cool
And the west side of the boat hot
Warmer side still dark, yet mixed from a palate to a lighter shade
Tumbling crests the trillions of Poseidon’s jewels
Facets changing to uncut stone and back again
Such a magician’s act!
I could stare at the sea in its many faces
And see the face of my lover, see the scope of her time
See her in the storms and the calm,
Her hair the great waving expanse
Her breath the brine of life
As if she were blushing Venus, newly stepped from the shell.
No, my life is not found in the gathering events of masses
Mine is found under the lifeboats, beside the salt spray
A tiny nook of a place
Away from the throbbing music of youth
A steel and glass column turned,
And moving from the chaos people choose
To the savage beauty of the open sea
Down sleek white ship sides into the blue,
Knifing through the dark
Boiling white meeting cresting cobalt blue

Jay
3-7-10

Fish and Man

I fed fish today
No, not the exact sort of activity you may suppose
A pinch of flake food poised above a glassy sided tank—
No, I was among them, in their watery element
An air breather thus positioned by contrivance
A mask, plastic fins, and a snorkel
But the fish didn’t seem to mind
They happily joined me to dine on scraps of sandwich and cereal
Taking in and accepting; my black shirt and plaid shorts
All too like their own coloring
Sleek dark bodies and bright yellow caudal fins
They torpedoed in from the dark, fire in their quizzical eyes
The eyes compelled me, spoke to me
Those orbs were filled with life; were not the eyes that a fisherman sees on shore
The eyes of a dying thing
These held the spark of noumen in their element
And I felt privy to something God already knows
That all beings are intelligent~
They were quick to come to my little feast, and slow to leave, ghosting along
Hesitant to leave, like the puppy that refuses to stop playing
After this stranger strokes it.
These all were my pets today while I fed them
And I was the one behind the glass this time
The alien in their world
They were kind enough not to tap on my mask
Happy to oblige me in my feast
This alien visitor in their watery world
Supplanted son of the same Creator
Sharing a snack in their world.

-Jay
3/9/2010

Traveling

Transplanted today
From wave and gull and sea
To the desert
Greasewood, barrel cactus and Joshua tree
Makes me want to bless this land
Land of many places
Land of people with pride of place
Straight highways
Dust brown desert mountains black with shadows
‘tis home that we are headed for
no strange land where strange tongue rolls
but home, home, spoken by familiar tongues
the voices of my children
Hyrum, Madolin, Miles, Graham
A place fixed; nothing moving, polar as the north star
Our ultimate destination
Transplanted no more
At home in our Deseret
With the leaves of my progeny all around me

-Jay
3/12/2010

2010-03-28T23:52:00.002-06:00

For a little cross pollenation, please go find me on www.facebook.com

-Jay

2010-03-28T23:40:00.003-06:00

Book finished this week

Shooter by Sgt. Jack Coughlin, Lt. Casey Kuhlman, and Donald A. Davis, ISBN-13: 978-0312336868

I started a book this morning, the final installment of the Fablehaven series, Keys to the Demon Prison (ISBN-13: 978-1606412381) by Local Utah author Brandon Mull. it is fast fun reading with a moral message; I hope to finish this one tonight and then on to an book co-authored by Tony Dungy.

The Dungy book is titled Quiet Strength: The Principles, Practices, and Priorities of a Winning Life by Tony Dungy and Nathan Whitaker, ISBN-13: 978-1414318028

-Jay

2010-03-25T01:11:00.001-06:00

Wow...just, wow.

"This might be the most dangerous monologue I've ever done, because I'm telling you now: They need you to be violent. They are begging you for it. You are being set up. Do not give them what they want. I saw a report earlier today on Fox about how congressmen are getting death threats because they voted for the health care bill.

I am telling you: Do not become them! Not only is it completely nuts and wrong, it's exactly what they want. That's what they did!

They have dropped the radical pose for the radical ends. Don't play into their script: They need you to become them.

I know it is extremely frustrating right now and they are doubling down, but do not give them what they want. Remain who you've always been: A decent, religious and moral people. Don't pick anything up except your religious scripture.

Our country is in real trouble. Radicals are poking and prodding. Get on your knees. Beg for forgiveness for our arrogance and for how we've disregarded our freedoms.

I have said on the program before: Expect miracles in our lifetimes. I'm telling you, you will see them. There are tough times ahead, but the only weapon in our arsenal we need is God. Beg him for guidance and help. He will take care of everything else."

http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,589943,00.html

-Jay

2010-03-24T03:55:00.002-06:00

Fiction Braindump 3/24/2010 @ 0355

In my dreams it is always the same; places I know. Not all are familar as my boyhood home, some are as vague as the doc we stood on before boarding the great cruise ship bound for mexico. In the dream today we are at the Preston rodeo and it is summer. The stadium is filled but none of the people have faces, at least none that are dicernable. Each one I look at is indistinguishable, as if I am looking too closely at a Vah Gogh painting and each layer and swoop marking the lines in their faces.

In the dream you have just excused yourself to the bathroom, yet I feel the panic building. Dreams have that way about them; time skewed, reality warped. Have you just stood up or have I been sitting here for hours while you were away?

The children are nowhere to be seen. I smell popcorn, and my cheek is still sticky where the littlest one touched me; his hands smearing gooey caramel on my rough face. He always has sticky fingers, that one.

These dreams are disturbing for the great swooping motions of sociality. One moment we are together and the next it is as if the stadium is quiet; the stands empty save for wrappers and stale popcorn, the lights out and a cricket chirping in the juxtaposition of stillness. The constant contradiction of nature in a filled and then emptied venue holds me. I am stayed by the change, the animus of the place lost with the absence of people.

It's akin to the way a worn pair of jeans must feel when missing the legs that filled them for years after being cast off. If jeans and empty benches are like cast shells on the beach; washed up, empty, mere husks of what they were when life was in them.

My dreams continue along a familiar plane as I stand to search for you, flashing to places we have been; the old apartment, the movie theater where we stood and walked out of chicago to the snickering of the couple in the row behind us at our conservative audacity, in the cab of our long gone Jeep.

My call is the cry of a shore bird and yours the quiet whisper of the sea against the hull of a boat; and I am gone, the air, the salt spray, gone. Pelagic wandering albatross searching for a spar to rest on.

-Jay

2010-03-22T23:11:00.004-06:00

Thank you Dad for sending this email to me. If you check your sources you will find this is no false chain mail.

Mr Hall's words make me sad for the direction America is currently taking. I do realize many of the educated are wearing Che t-shirts and applauding the social health bill that was passed yesterday. The direction America took Sunday is one they want. I am not one of them and am saddened by this path we appears poised on--the Social programme.

I do believe in God and hard work. Hopefully God will give us time to fix the issues that plague our freedoms. The road ahead is going to be an interesting one.

-Jay

"I'm 63 and I'm Tired" by Robert A. Hall

I'm 63. Except for one semester in college when jobs were scarce and a six-month period when I was between jobs, but job-hunting every day, I've worked, hard, since I was 18. Despite some health challenges, I still put in 50-hour weeks, and haven't called in sick in seven or eight years. I make a good salary, but I didn't inherit my job or my income, and I worked to get where I am. Given the economy, there's no retirement in sight, and I'm tired. Very tired.

I'm tired of being told that I have to "spread the wealth" to people who don't have my work ethic. I'm tired of being told the government will take the money I earned, by force if necessary, and give it to people too lazy to earn it.

I'm tired of being told that I have to pay more taxes to "keep people in their homes." Sure, if they lost their jobs or got sick, I'm willing to help. But if they bought McMansions at three times the price of our paid-off, $250,000 condo, on one-third of my salary, then let the left-wing Congress-critters who passed Fannie and Freddie and the Community Reinvestment Act that created the bubble help them with their own money.

I'm tired of being told how bad America is by left-wing millionaires like Michael Moore, George Soros and Hollywood Entertainers who live in luxury because of the opportunities America offers. In thirty years, if they get their way, the United States will have the economy of Zimbabwe, the freedom of the press of China, the crime and violence of Mexico, the tolerance for Christian people of Iran, and the freedom of speech of Venezuela.

I'm tired of being told that Islam is a "Religion of Peace," when every day I can read dozens of stories of Muslim men killing their sisters, wives and daughters for their family "honor"; of Muslims rioting over some slight offense; of Muslims murdering Christian and Jews because they aren't "believers"; of Muslims burning schools for girls; of Muslims stoning teenage rape victims to death for "adultery"; of Muslims mutilating the genitals of little girls; all in the name of Allah, because the Qur'an and Shari'a law tells them to.

I'm tired of being told that "race doesn't matter" in the post-racial world of Obama, when it's all that matters in affirmative action jobs, lower college admission and graduation standards for minorities (harming them the most), government contract set-asides, tolerance for the ghetto culture of violence and fatherless children that hurts minorities more than anyone, and in the appointment of U.S. Senators from Illinois.

I think it's very cool that we have a black president and that a black child is doing her homework at the desk where Lincoln wrote the Emancipation Proclamation. I just wish the black president was Condi Rice, or someone who believes more in freedom and the individual and less arrogantly of an all-knowing government.

I'm tired of a news media that thinks Bush's fundraising and inaugural expenses were obscene, but that think Obama's, at triple the cost, were wonderful; that thinks Bush exercising daily was a waste of presidential time, but Obama exercising is a great example for the public to control weight and stress; that picked over every line of Bush's military records, but never demanded that Kerry release his; that slammed Palin, with two years as governor, for being too inexperienced for VP, but touted Obama with three years as senator as potentially the best president ever. Wonder why
people are dropping their subscriptions or switching to Fox News? Get a clue. I didn't vote for Bush in 2000, but the media and Kerry drove me to his camp in 2004.

I'm tired of being told that out of "tolerance for other cultures" we must let Saudi Arabia use our oil money to fund mosques and madrassa Islamic schools to preach hate in America , while no American group is allowed to fund a church, synagogue or religious school in Saudi Arabia to teach love and tolerance.

I'm tired of being told I must lower my living standard to fight global warming, which no one is allowed to debate. My wife and I live in a two-bedroom apartment and carpool together five miles to our jobs. We also own a three-bedroom condo where our daughter and granddaughter live. Our carbon footprint is about 5% of Al Gore's, and if you're greener than Gore, you're green enough.

I'm tired of being told that drug addicts have a disease, and I must help support and treat them, and pay for the damage they do. Did a giant germ rush out of a dark alley, grab them, and stuff white powder up their noses while they tried to fight it off? I don't think Gay people choose to be Gay, but I damn sure think druggies chose to take drugs. And I'm tired of harassment from cool people treating me like a freak when I tell them I never tried marijuana.

I'm tired of illegal aliens being called "undocumented workers," especially
the ones who aren't working, but are living on welfare or crime. What's next? Calling drug dealers, "Undocumented Pharmacists"? And, no, I'm not against Hispanics. Most of them are Catholic, and it's been a few hundred years since Catholics wanted to kill me for my religion. I'm willing to fast track for citizenship any Hispanic person, who can speak English, doesn't have a criminal record and who is self-supporting without family on welfare, or who serves honorably for three years in our military.... Those are the citizens we need.

I'm tired of latte liberals and journalists, who would never wear the uniform of the Republic themselves, or let their entitlement-handicapped kids near a recruiting station, trashing our military. They and their kids can sit at home, never having to make split-second decisions under life and death circumstances, and bad mouth better people than themselves. Do bad things happen in war? You bet. Do our troops sometimes misbehave? Sure. Does this compare with the atrocities that were the policy of our enemies for the last fifty years and still are? Not even close. So here's the deal. I'll let myself be subjected to all the humiliation and abuse that was heaped on terrorists at Abu Ghraib or Gitmo, and the critics can let themselves be subject to captivity by the Muslims, who tortured and beheaded Daniel Pearl in Pakistan, or the Muslims who tortured and murdered Marine Lt. Col. William Higgins in Lebanon, or the Muslims who ran the blood-spattered Al Qaeda torture rooms our troops found in Iraq, or the Muslims who cut off the heads of schoolgirls in Indonesia, because the girls
were Christian. Then we'll compare notes. British and American soldiers are the only troops in history that civilians came to for help and handouts, instead of hiding from in fear.

I'm tired of people telling me that their party has a corner on virtue and the other party has a corner on corruption. Read the papers; bums are bipartisan. And I'm tired of people telling me we need bipartisanship. I live in Illinois , where the "Illinois Combine" of Democrats has worked to loot the public for years. Not to mention the tax cheats in Obama's cabinet.

I'm tired of hearing wealthy athletes, entertainers and politicians of both parties talking about innocent mistakes, stupid mistakes or youthful mistakes, when we all know they think their only mistake was getting caught.

I'm tired of people with a sense of entitlement, rich or poor.

Speaking of poor, I'm tired of hearing people with air-conditioned homes, color TVs and two cars called poor. The majority of Americans didn't have that in 1970, but we didn't know we were "poor." The poverty pimps have to keep changing the definition of poor to keep the dollars flowing.

I'm real tired of people who don't take responsibility for their lives and actions. I'm tired of hearing them blame the government, or discrimination or big-whatever for their problems.

Yes, I'm damn tired. But I'm also glad to be 63. Because, mostly, I'm not going to have to see the world these people are making. I'm just sorry for my granddaughter.

Robert A. Hall is a Vietnam Veteran (Marines) who served five terms in the Massachusetts State Senate. His blog can be read here: "http://www.tartanmarine.blogspot.com/

2010-03-15T17:47:00.003-06:00

I want to share with you all what I have been reading, and will post a weekly update of the books I finished

That being said, here are the books I completed last week:

The English Patient (ISBN:978-0679745204)

A Bride Most Begrudging (ISBN: 978-0764200724

Jay

2010-03-05T07:10:00.004-07:00

we'd a late winter snowfall
last night, and a quiet night
no wind to stir the branches
nor breeze to craze the entire-filled chain link
(each now a study in lacework)
all lines of sight stand out in relief
every thing muted to black and white
I scraped the walk
in the colorless silence
my dampened steel blade ringing
in close proximity
After I was done, I let the dog out
and stood watching the new cornices on the roof
(where yesterday there were none!)
A crack then, from the neighbor's Elm
and I waited, watching the tree
a slight breath of wind began to stir
three more times the tree spoke out
each single crack, spaced some minutes in between
that single syllable spoken in the stillness
each time breaking the nervous silence between us
and suddenly the Sumac between us shook itself
and loosened a branch load of snow to the ground
interrupting our tacit exchange
meantime the flakes continued to fall
on this late winter day of March
building up, breaking down, transcending everything

-Jay
3-5-10

Quote of the Day

2010-03-04T04:28:00.001-07:00

"The true God is a living, intelligent, and powerful being. His duration reaches from eternity to eternity; His presence from infinity to infinity. He governs all things."-Sir Isaac Newton

2010-03-03T05:23:00.004-07:00

we children of a blessed clime
drinking mead from golden horns
so many grapes spilling across our chins
that each wears pearly beards of fruit

what plenty in this place
so much and more, a moveable feast
3.79 million square miles
far hills lost to the curve of the earth

so strange the virgin land once was
no blade had cut that new found loam
and dusty years belied it's new world youth
languidly lost in tales of time

How now this aged place become
the dirty fields and oily roads
those youthful years so far behind
and sighing, sets it down to rest

how like a life this land has grown
how anthropomorphic in it's age
that it's bones should be human and old
fissures and liver spots, loss of hair

where is that bride of my youth?
oh where the America of olden dreams
that austere continent, whos dark thatches
remained blushingly hid, not brazenly open

time changes place, and space
new mead carries semblances to the taste of old
and romance and longing for a time unknown
longs to supplant that root to my own place

today I wonder at today's own morn
this bit of time I call the present;
a time when things and jealousies rule
and lands and homes carry less and less

what plenty abides still in this land!
so much and more, a moveable feast
and we children rasied at this table edge
unknowing famine for that cust of bread

mark us out oh mighty God
true owner of that golden horn
give each of us our daily scone
and place thy hands upon our crowns

remake this land a mighty place
a changing place both tumultuous and calm
and wake this beauty from dusty age of sleep
to raise her banners up to the skies

-Jay
3-3-10

How to Find Happiness: 7 Timeless Tips from the Last 2500 Years

2010-03-03T05:13:00.002-07:00

Some of my favorites:

"Most people are about as happy as they make up their minds to be." -Abraham Lincoln

"Very little is needed to make a happy life; it is all within yourself, in your way of thinking." -Marcus Aurelius Antoninus

"The foolish man seeks happiness in the distance, the wise grows it under his feet." -James Oppenheim

"Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn’t do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover." -Mark Twain

Linky

-Jay

2010-02-24T12:05:00.001-07:00

Peregrine

last night I dreamt of hope
fragile bird
and that dream, so easily confused
blocked out by murder, hatred, greed
flew off till it sat in a tree
waiting patiently for the din to quell
the horror to pass
what macabre visions we acclimate to!
birds wings and bones were never meant
to carry great weight
to harness horrors
their honeycomb densities,
quills and pinions were made for the wind
and yet this hope remains
updrafts pulling me from branches
spiralling up, away from the charnel slopes
away, away into glassy dome of freedom

-Jay
2/24/10

Ship Tracking

2010-02-20T02:45:00.003-07:00

Here is a fun little tool:

Cruise ship I will be on 2/6/10 is the Carnival Elation, headed to Cabo, Mex.

Track here:

http://www.marinetraffic.com/ais/default.aspx?centerx=30¢ery=25&zoom=2&level1=140#

-Jay

2010-02-16T01:42:00.000-07:00

"If ye love wealth better than liberty, the tranquility of servitude than the animating contest of freedom, go from us in peace. We ask not your counsels or arms. Crouch down and lick the hands which feed you. May your chains sit lightly upon you and may posterity forget that ye were our countrymen!"

-John Adams

http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,586023,00.html

2010-02-15T23:50:00.000-07:00

Mel Gibson as Graham Hess in the movie Signs:

"People break down into two groups. When they experience something lucky, group number one sees it as more than luck, more than coincidence. They see it as a sign, evidence, that there is someone up there, watching out for them. Group number two sees it as just pure luck. Just a happy turn of chance. I'm sure the people in group number two are looking at those fourteen lights in a very suspicious way. For them, the situation is a fifty-fifty. Could be bad, could be good. But deep down, they feel that whatever happens, they're on their own. And that fills them with fear. Yeah, there are those people. But there's a whole lot of people in group number one. When they see those fourteen lights, they're looking at a miracle. And deep down, they feel that whatever's going to happen, there will be someone there to help them. And that fills them with hope. See what you have to ask yourself is what kind of person are you? Are you the kind that sees signs, that sees miracles? Or do you believe that people just get lucky? Or, look at the question this way: Is it possible that there are no coincidences?"

2010-02-15T01:40:00.001-07:00

Collapse of the euro is 'inevitable': Bailing out the Greek economy futile, says FRENCH banking chief

Link

"Strategists at Paris-based Société Générale said that any bailout of the stricken Greek economy would only provide 'sticking plasters' to cover the deep- seated flaws in the eurozone bloc.

The stark warning came as the euro slipped further on the currency markets and dire growth figures raised the prospect of a 'double-dip' recession in the embattled zone.
The bailout of Greece will only act as a 'sticking plaster' for the Euro crisis, the bank warned today

Claims that the euro could be headed for total collapse are particularly striking when they come from one of the oldest and largest banks in France - a core founder-member.

In a note to investors, SocGen strategist Albert Edwards said: 'My own view is that there is little "help" that can be offered by the other eurozone nations other than temporary, confidence-giving "sticking plasters" before the ultimate denouement: the break-up of the eurozone.'"

2010-02-10T03:17:00.001-07:00

Soaking the Rich Never Works

http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,585306,00.html

2010-02-06T01:27:00.001-07:00

A Call to Arms for America's Parents

http://www.foxnews.com/opinion/2010/02/04/janine-turner-parents-children-revolution-arms/

-Jay

2010-02-06T01:17:00.001-07:00

God and the President

http://www.foxnews.com/opinion/2010/02/05/shuler-god-obama-president-state-union/#discussion-form

-Jay

2010-02-05T07:27:00.001-07:00

Dawn

Ho Eos, rosy dactylos parting dawn
mark these curtains and part them
torchbearer against the mirk
standardbearer to this chariot
as fingers part that shroud
bring life and animation
there can be no oracle without light
no illumination by muses without fire
only languid Promethian pools~
bold Nyx flees from thee,
the only to stand against Zeus and live
and so part Aether now
and light rule the day!
Ho Eos, red-fingered dawn
cleaver of inky shades
harbinger of day
light the reed torch
and loosen these reins!

-Jay
2-5-10

2010-02-02T04:14:00.004-07:00

This song can be heard here

Sgt. McKenzie
by Joseph Kilna McKenzie

Original Scottish Version
Lay me doon in the caul caul groon
Whaur afore monie mair huv gaun
Lay me doon in the caul caul groon
Whaur afore monie mair huv gaun

When they come a wull staun ma groon
Staun ma groon al nae be afraid

Thoughts awe hame tak awa ma fear
Sweat an bluid hide ma veil awe tears

Ains a year say a prayer faur me
Close yir een an remember me

Nair mair shall a see the sun
For a fell tae a Germans gun

Lay me doon in the caul caul groon
Whaur afore monie mair huv gaun
Lay me doon in the caul caul groon
Whaur afore monie mair huv gaun

Whaur afore monie mair huv gaun

English Translation
Lay me down in the cold cold ground
Where before many more have gone
Lay me down in the cold cold ground
Where before many more have gone

When they come I will stand my ground
Stand my ground I’ll not be afraid

Thoughts of home take away my fear
Sweat and blood hide my veil of tears

Once a year say a prayer for me
Close your eyes and remember me

Never more shall I see the sun
For I fell to a Germans gun

Lay me down in the cold cold ground
Where before many more have gone
Lay me down in the cold cold ground
Where before many more have gone

Where before many more have gone

In memory of Sgt. Charles Stuart MacKenzie
Seaforth Highlanders
Who along with many others gave up his life
So that we can live free
We will remember them

2010-02-02T04:04:00.002-07:00

This article scaerd me. It got me to thinking.

Jay, how do you know someone?"

The answer came. A Man once said "by their fruits ye shall know them."

In that light, I hope the words quoted in this article by Mr. Beck are truly only lipservice. Otherwise, Heaven help us!

http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,584505,00.html

-Jay

Watch what he does, not what he said: Obama made it sound like he was pivoting to the center

2010-01-31T06:30:00.000-07:00

Watch what he does, not what he said: Obama made it sound like he was pivoting to the center

-James Kirchick

http://www.nydailynews.com/opinions/2010/01/31/2010-01-31_watch_what_he_does_not_what_he_said_obama_made_it_sound_like_he_was_pivoting_to_.html

2010-01-30T01:32:00.002-07:00

Father,

Help me see the truth in all things. Help me see the person despite the anger, the fear, the frustration or the preoccupation they may express.

Help me see the potential. Help me find a way in to coax that potential to life. Help me be a light to grow the seed of their hope into a true plant. Help them be able to reflect that potential to others.

Mostly, Lord, help me to be a stone. Not the kind that is in the way; not the kind that is in a shoe. Let me be constant and kind, part of a foundation that helps build Thy house.

Let me be real, that I may touch souls. Make me an instrument of Thy peace.

As Thou loves all your children, allow me to find a part of that love.

Let my own sight turn from the within and find peace.

Guide me, never leave me. Make me a place to sit down at a table with Thee.

-Jay
1-30-10

2010-01-26T04:05:00.005-07:00

-orison-

please, dear God, awake and free us
as the buffalo this field once heard
break the fetter'd binding rivets
re-make skies for wheeling birds

tickle prisons formed by manchilds
lavalieres so dark with fear
loose these welds thus dark with anger
common past and present near

dear God, break down these linked rings
with thy breath to sunder chain
touch both heart and land and spirit
washing flow and pulling drain

remake hallowed, desicration
long still graves and holy pyre
unbind dirt so great and spacious
sea of souls laid down in mire

oh, thou God, redeeming artist
make this canvas something more
than these squibs and paths so crooked
aimless paintings, pith and gore

knit that ossein again to sinew
ancient flesh and scat and bug
let these bones delight in fatness
reconcile cadaver smug

please, oh God, thou hidden captain
with thy stars so marked as eyes
by thy earthen illustration
crack the marrow and death's sigh

free the prisn'er of the darkland
bid the shrunken soul to fly
rid that binding appellation
wake up man no more to die!

Mighty God, thou fount not ending
bring about this later day
when the rough parts all are ended
smooth the path, that narrow way

olden friends again will hail here
clasping souls again unite
when darkened glass is broken
and the dirty made to light

1-26-10
JRB

2010-01-25T00:38:00.003-07:00

Weight goal:

170

Current weight:

182

-Jay

2010-01-23T01:45:00.004-07:00

I got a first US edition of JRR Tolkien's Silmarillion today in excellent condition from Savers (a local thrift store) for $2.50

Same book, same condition for $70:

http://www.google.com/#hl=en&source=hp&q=1st+us+edition+silmarillion&aq=f&aql=&aqi=&oq=&fp=ba0a4630ce98f7da

Can I get a woot?

-Jay

Don't Subsidize Haitian Corruption

2010-01-20T00:21:00.001-07:00

http://www.foxnews.com/opinion/2010/01/19/christian-whiton-haiti-obama-aid-corruption/

2010-01-15T23:56:00.000-07:00

"The reward for work well done is the opportunity to do more."

-Jonas Salk

2010-01-13T02:02:00.002-07:00

Good read about Harry Reid and his comments recently uncovered:

http://www.boston.com/bostonglobe/editorial_opinion/oped/articles/2010/01/13/harry_reids_racial_imbroglio/

-Jay

2.9 Magnitude Earthquake

2010-01-05T15:31:00.001-07:00

We had a small earthquake in Utah this morning, the third small earthquake this month:

http://www.ksl.com/?nid=148&sid=9235420

-Jay

2009-12-30T22:32:00.000-07:00

Thought provoking read:

http://www.onenewsnow.com/Perspectives/Default.aspx?id=832024

-Jay

2009-12-28T23:53:00.002-07:00

Just in case you were ever in doubt about me, this should calrify things a bit :)

According to Tolkien, Hobbits eat at least seven meals a day. These are known by the following: breakfast, second breakfast, elevenses, luncheon, afternoon tea, dinner and supper.

-Jay

2009-12-25T01:15:00.000-07:00

Merry Christmas!

May the light of Christ warm your heart the entire year through.

-Jay

2009-12-25T01:03:00.002-07:00

Come on March 6th!

Melissa and I reserved a slot on a cruise ship with a bunch of her mom's side of the family (about 25 in all!) clear back in June/July. We got a screaming deal and thanks to the keen eye of Aunt Angie, are planning on a fun time with family.

Melissa and I are so excited as this will be our first real trip without the kids (thank you Beth and Anna for being so willing to have Hy, Mad, Miles, and Graham stay with you). We are both excited for some rest and relaxation.

The ship's home port is San Diego. We plan on driving down, hopping on the ship, getting in six days of R&R (destination Cabo) and driving back home.

W00t!

Come on March 6th!

http://www.carnival.com/cms/fun/ships/carnival_elation/default.aspx?shipCode=EL

And as a final comment, this is my kind of ship. It has a library!

-Jay

2009-12-22T03:51:00.001-07:00

Amen, WSJ

http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424052748704238104574602470345172100.html

-Jay

2009-12-12T17:14:00.002-07:00

Personal Thermodynamics

In times of cold
I miser warmth
like gold
and huddling
under shower
beneath extra blankets
clutch it close to my breast

with an extra sweater
I waken spring
wee warm front
and drifts
of softening ice
speak of plants beneath
in slumber ride the storm

till all this kit
so gathered
like coins
and stacked
is all in one day
forgotten in a front
humid air and spring breath

In times of cold
I miser warmth
like gold
and huddling
in the car
beneath heater blast
clutch summer to my breast

12-13-09
Jay

2009-12-09T06:07:00.001-07:00

The Fiction Of Climate Science
Gary Sutton

http://www.forbes.com/2009/12/03/climate-science-gore-intelligent-technology-sutton.html

2009-12-05T22:11:00.002-07:00

Twenty Four Wise Quotes

1. In my many years I have come to a conclusion that one useless man is a shame, two is a law firm and three or more is a congress. -- John Adams

2. If you don't read the newspaper you are uninformed, if you do read the newspaper you are misinformed. -- Mark Twain

3. Suppose you were an idiot and suppose you were a member of Congress. But, then, I repeat myself. -- Mark Twain

4. I contend that for a nation to try to tax itself into prosperity is like a man standing in a bucket and trying to lift himself up by the handle. -- Winston Churchill

5. A government which robs Peter to pay Paul can always depend on the support of Paul. -- George Bernard Shaw

6. A liberal is someone who feels a great debt to his fellow man; which he proposes to pay off with your money. -- G. Gordon Liddy

7. Democracy must be something more than two wolves and a sheep voting on what to have for dinner. -- James Bovard, Civil Libertarian (1994)

8. Foreign aid might be defined as a transfer of money from poor people in rich countries to rich people in poor countries. -- Douglas Casey, Classmate of Bill Clinton at Georgetown University

9. Giving money and power to government is like giving whiskey and car keys to teenage boys. -- P.J. O'Rourke, Civil Libertarian

10. Government is the great fiction, through which everybody endeavors to live at the expense of everybody else. -- Rockwell Frederic Bastiat, French Economist (1801-1850)

11. Government's view of the economy could be summed up in a few short phrases: If it moves, tax it. If it keeps moving, regulate it. And, if it stops moving, subsidize it. -- Ronald Reagan (1986)

12. I don't make jokes. I just watch the government and report the facts.-- Will Rogers

13. If you think health care is expensive now, wait until you see what it costs when it's free! -- P.J. O'Rourke

14. In general, the art of government consists of taking as much money as possible from one party of the citizens to give to the other. -- Voltaire (1764)

15. Just because you do not take an interest in politics doesn't mean politics won't take an interest in you! -- Pericles (430 B.C.)

16. No man's life, liberty, or property is safe while the legislature is in session. -- Mark Twain (1866)

17. Talk is cheap...except when Congress does it. -- Cullen Hightower

18. The government is like a baby's alimentary canal, with a happy appetite at one end and no responsibility at the other. -- Ronald Reagan

19. The inherent vice of capitalism is the unequal sharing of the blessings. The inherent blessing of socialism is the equal sharing of misery. -- Winston Churchill

20. The only difference between a tax man and a taxidermist is that the taxidermist leaves the skin. -- Mark Twain

21. The ultimate result of shielding men from the effects of folly is to fill the world with fools. -- Herbert Spencer, English Philosopher (1820-1903)

22. There is no distinctly native American criminal class ... save, Congress. -- Mark Twain

23. What this country needs are more unemployed politicians.-- Edward Langley, Artist (1928-1995)

24. A government big enough to give you everything you want, is strong enough to take everything you have. -- Thomas Jefferson

2009-11-25T19:40:00.004-07:00

We just got back from family pictures taken by this lady:

http://amyharrisonphotography.blogspot.com/

Please keep your eyes peeled for our pictures to show up on her blog in the next few days :)

Thank you Amy for the excellent experience!

-Jay

2009-11-24T02:51:00.000-07:00

You Can't Count on Washington to Wake Up
By Glenn Beck

http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,576465,00.html

2009-11-23T12:36:00.004-07:00

wind chapped cheeks
and runny noses
frosted fingers
and numb'ed toeses

the cold has come
to our Utah home
and we bundle up now
before our family roam

and so bless the warm
again inside our door
after snicking the lock
and crossing the floor

it's visqueen'd glass
and insulated trim
a steaming mug
filled up to the brim

the hint of winter
in cool cold days
so many manifestations
spoken so many ways

and fall walks for me
with their spawn'd inflection
warm our twinned hearts
with harvest affection

-Jay
11-23-09
1251

2009-11-21T16:51:00.004-07:00

Proximity

tonight I watch the trees dance
in the biting Autumn wind
their branches coaxing spring back
this equinox to rescind

the sunset now is fading
quenching hiss of golden hue
and seagull pinions passing
mark the moment with a mew

how nature with it's motions
marks the gliding of each day
all these regular iterations
round their cosmic fix'ed way

where breadth and ambulation
in these linear ordered things
is this man so glued to timeline
to be cut by graded rings?

now light has bruised to darkness
and the trees are waving on
still I grasp at ringing moments
stirring echoes of a song

if you hear me, God of colors
and can mark my thoughtful cry
grant me eyes of understanding
help me know this changing sky

please remove these lenses darkened
and assuage my suff'ring sigh
you can mend this bit of blindness
with tomorrow's burning eye

-Jay
11-21-09
1711

2009-11-21T01:42:00.003-07:00

Unnamed Psalm

For the distant hills
and the quiet skies
for the colored rills
I thank thee!

for the forest glade
and the mountain stream
for the ocean wade
I thank thee!

for the baby cry
and the table talk
for the loved ones nigh
I thank thee!

for the love of Christ
and the wash from sin
for his sacrifice
I thank thee!

for the breach of death
and the empty tomb
for restoring breath
I thank thee!

for the scope of life
and it's many tasks
for my guiding wife
I thank thee!

Jay
11-15-09

2009-11-14T06:08:00.004-07:00

Aphonia

Its the silence I feel first
murmuring flakes falling on my hooded form
I hear nothing save the shivering of my dog
this Saturday morning in late fall
snow has stilled the world
(as it often does)
pausing babel's tongues in reverent wonder.
I stoop to the dormant grass
gentle sussuring, so as to not disturb the cathedral
so new in my back yard
I coax my dog
urgent whispers tinkling the crystalline air
yet he is fix'd on the porch
finding in my puissant crouch instead a challenge to play.
this Boston rarely barks,
instead he snorts
and whuffling his reply
finally comes to me
we squat there on the grass
my hand on his able trembling chest
and listen to the silence of the snow

-Jay
11-14-09
0600

2009-11-13T07:53:00.005-07:00

Villanelle

days like today
make me wonder why
I chose tech support as my career

I am beset by bosses
as callous as demons
and I crack rocks, trapp'd in this hell

oh sure, the pay
it nearly avails the pain
but what of dignity? what then of that?

my soul, the cost
and freedom so spent
is sold for a mere mite and not thirty marks

Yes, work is work~
and a man knows his lot
I work for my own! I do not work for them!

I was proud
in days not far gone
to mark how I worked for the number one

spinning tales
in my veiled ambiguity
allowing others to be jealous of my job

oh the truth!
that this aggregation
this league of folk are truly a clique

and one like I,
mere vendor to their club
could not own full ties nor full rank!

not that I'd
desire initiation
into their club of demons, that evil baptism

insipid familiars
limp grinning goons
they eat my laughter, and in my mouth a stone

their compliments
are maledictions
and every help they proffer bears a hidden blade

how I long for a song
a holy paladin's bard
to pierce their center and cast them screaming!

Back to Abadon!
begone you hell spawn!
Get thee hence into the river Styx and choke!

Mark me oh God
against their besetting
with perfume and oil bind thy talisman to my heart!

vouchsafe this soul
as I walk each day
through shadows, the specters of these archfiends

stay their appetite
still their whip
and alight peace, that dove, firm on my shoulders

11-13-09

2009-11-12T16:38:00.003-07:00

Facets of Leavening

How strange our belief of perpetuity!
that our world
will carry on, just so
after we have tempered it
that our grassy Elysium
cool after the battles
will never suffer weeds~
in truth, the thorns and stones will come again
not much is constant
'cept for God
And His ways seem so strange~
dominion is a s fickle as a track of sand.
and but another pathway to Him
this curious duality of man
light and shadow mixed together
hope and the despair
clarity and blindness
what queer fire this life!
in moments we sense it,
both child and stricken with years
and others, we realize too late
that the locus of control never was ours
we only held it for a time,
stewards of you will~
of a truth, it only belongs to Him
and all these acts
both mundane and deliberate
tumbling in their arc
to precipitate into the bones of being
what strangeness!
taking a handful of clay and shaping a life!
these seeming nothings amplified
to fill the sky
and greater than the stars
more constant, fixed,
than polar eye
and again awake as
children fresh as morning scions
breath of babes
in the cooing cradle of That king

-Jay
11-12-09

2009-11-12T04:09:00.002-07:00

Two haiku:

Errand of Erinyes

silken cords of change
wrapped around each one of us
carefully to hell

Promised Land

new hope springs for me
hidden heart and winters bud
banked against the storm

-Jay
11-12-09

2009-11-12T04:07:00.001-07:00

Glenn Beck commentary on "extemists"

http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,574265,00.html

-Jay

2009-11-11T06:56:00.003-07:00

bankrupt soul
unhappy world
when will the Gods come?
2012?
3012?
every day I read pain
pasted on the news
one inflicting
upon another
who cares enough to change?
transmogrify this clay?
bankrupt people
unhappy lives
when will 1984 come?
2009?
2010?
the true path to peace lies within
and bombs
and odium
cannot breach that stony sanctum
Thou has prepared
a table for me, against them
that trouble me

-Jay
11-11-09

2009-11-03T05:43:00.001-07:00

Am I Purging the GOP?
by Glenn Beck

http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,571219,00.html

An interesting read on accountability!

-Jay

2009-10-29T06:23:00.004-06:00

Collapsing The System
By Glenn Beck:

http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,570151,00.html

It would be a nightmare come true, but the argument seems to be rational. What is the White House doing to America?

-Jay

2009-10-27T19:30:00.000-06:00

Two haiku:

looking out my kitchen window

first real snow today
and first real cold this autumn
bearded white mountain

and

edacity

burn on my fingers
consequence of impatientce
this hunger within

10-27-09

2009-10-27T06:51:00.004-06:00

Vivere disce, cogita mori

What power in the fallen leaf
Or in the piney tomb
What faith makes up the stone’s belief?
Or echo shriveled womb

The empty sky with waning moon
Reflecting the sun’s burn
The echo in the now cold room
His presence and her yearn

This spider’s web of tattered silk
And wasted ear of corn
The aged breast that bears no milk
That wind that shakes the morn

A shrunken skull and grinning mask
With scythe and bony palm
The harvest thresh his final task
That death applied as balm

Where’s the escape from this bleak place
The path we all must trod
If I alone fill this small space
Who plays the part of God?

If man is made to suffer this
If all we are is here
Why bother thoughts for these we’ll miss
Why anything held dear?

There’s power in the fallen leaf
And power in the tomb
The stone believes the stone’s belief
The resurrective womb

Believe for sake of your belief!
The soul is made to live
and binding Gilead balm relief
Is Christ’s alone to give

So carry on though veil of tears!
walk fields of bittersweet
Past roaring vales and quiet fears
To loved ones you will meet!

This here is not all we will be
Nor all that we will feel!
There is another plane to life
One ultimate and real

Bear up the pack of stones so sued
Bind up your thorny side
These God himself did give to you
Chin up, march on with pride!

There is no death in fallen leaf
Nor climax in the tomb
God's faith is what the stone believes
That craftsman of the womb

-Jay
10-27-09
0650

2009-10-22T19:53:00.005-06:00

"I want to know God's thoughts; the rest are details."
-Albert Einstein

autumn again
and myriad manifestations surround me
the falling leaves outside
and spilling indoors
the harvest orange and yellow and red
these colors spoken in bottled fruit

what change
maturing ellipse through each day
the year strolling on in whispering steps
our earth 'round the sun
warming and cooling, orange and blue
the swing of gravity to the poles

patient canvas
each blade as delicate as placental vellum
the wind ever the artist
and each new beginning bud
from delicate opening to wind dried dropping
the masterwork of the skies

warm sweaters
by whatever etymology or nomenclature
turtleneck or aran, jumper or jersey
these thick woolly knittings speak of autumn
across thick hirsute lips
their blurred speech the mumbling of centuries

autumn again
and all these languages the season speaks
are laid out as evenly as the Rosetta stone
from 'glyphs to Egyptian to Greek
the soft translation of an artisan
colors construed on every medium

-Jay
10-22-09
8:27 pm

2009-10-19T03:39:00.007-06:00

Blair and Leroux

If fairy tales can bring a thought
to teach us all of stench and rot
perhaps those words so penned by men
can wash away the stains of sin
the reddened flag, the crupper winch
will only keep you in it's pinch
it will not lead you to the green
those rolling pastures that you've seen
read on and listen to my tale
of freedom and the great yard sale.

'To Socialism!' the toast
so roaring on
and reverb carried
by crowded throng
the porcine hoof
the blunted snout
rewriting truth
and blotting out

'To Progress!' the call
rolling roughly now
they rape the land
and eat the chow
the furrowed head
considering change
the tweaking cord
the coat of mange

'For Motherland!' the command
so evenly barked
once gathering song
now whippingly snarked
that double chin
and sagging brow
its glutton's sin
who owns us now

'Mutual Ownership!' the goad
and jabbing thrust
to broken side
and shattered trust
those whited fields
and promised wheat
these never came
nor eaten meat

'All Enslaved!' the truth
thus never told
instead of sharing
that communal gold
a leaf rubbed here
and pasted there
the thinnest smudge
to beguile their care

'Hickory Smoked!' the catch
and when so done
so worked to death
under beating sun
the butchers block!
the throat thus slashed
slave blood runs down
at last so cashed

'For Freedom!' the call
that truth so rare
allow the failure
each individual care
own bootstraps straining
upon this soil
for each to achieve
alone they toil

And books of thoughts so fairy-like
begin to take the shape of shrike
their beady eyes, their sharpened beaks
till all we give are weakened shrieks
rise up you fools and tell them no
we'll not have social communes grow
stay free and live, keep free as you die
this all is nothing if you'll not try
be true, be proud, be at liberty now
or you'll be bleeding, that fresh stuck sow.

-Jay
10-19-09
0400

2009-10-13T07:26:00.003-06:00

Oneirology

twenty-four hours awake
well, twenty-three if that nap in the car counts
thunder and lightning waking me
struck moments of childlike terror and counting
one one thousand, two one thousand, three
yesterday I walked in the morning
today I'll sleep instead;
no liquid light pouring down
that gold is hid by clouds
blue and gray and blue
my gold instead the light of a burning bulb
sixties hood, sixties range,
in this, my old apartment.
twenty four hours awake
well, twenty-three if that nap in the car counts
dreams and illusions speaking to me
percussed moments of lucidity in the madness
one one thousand, two one thousand, three

-Jay
10/13/09
0734

2009-10-07T01:01:00.006-06:00

I am wondering why we are buying oil from the middle east when we have Alaska and a place like this:

http://www.usgs.gov/newsroom/article.asp?ID=1911

Doesn't it smell fishy that this report is 18 months old and all we hear is so many rants about global warming?

Why not unstopper some of those well caps and help the damn recession by lowering the cost of gas?

Not to mention that we are sending billions of dollars to the middle east.

Share your thoughts...

-Jay

2009-10-06T05:44:00.000-06:00

http://www.foxnews.com/opinion/2009/10/05/dan-gainor-letterman-polanski-obama-olympics/

Read the commentary by Chris Rock, brilliant!

-Jay

2009-10-06T04:39:00.001-06:00

http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,560742,00.html

Oh the convulted financial webs we have woven for this country. I believe a great growing pain will have to visit us before we can pull our heads out of our collective arses.

Pray for us folks, God is still listening.

-Jay

2009-10-04T22:06:00.007-06:00

The Bell and Gorecki

Reprisal; I struggle to find one tonight
and emptied out of my selfishness, feel pity
only pity. and a smear of self-loathing
brush strokes across this canvas
a million points and strokes,
twenty five years of this thorn!

I wish my malaise were outward
instead of this inward
that I had leprosy, and decaying,
would walk amongst you all with a bell
welded 'round my neck
A chanson of elegy 'unclean, unclean!'

The Son of Man descended below all
am I greater than He? Nay, never! Nay~
yet this stone of years,
this great miller's masonry
these comminutes wear at my soul.
Paul too, had a hidden thorn

One that God only knew
The woman with an issue of blood
the Bible is rife with example
and life is rife~
I've not lost a limb to landmine
nor been gassed in a chamber

Or my little ones torn away.
Why then this pain at these pains?
Boo! I would shoo the demon I feel lurking
had I any compulsory power
his flitting shadows which darken my light
darken my glass.

When will I see face to face?
what day my sadness transmogrified?
If Christ unwrapped the shroud
rolled back the stone
and stood
then so should I, at least try to emulate

Despite the fact that he knows every tomfoolery of mine
every wound implicitly,
He's felt each muttered curse, each selfish sneak,
the ill stench from the midden pile of my life
full in his nose when he faced the garden,
the lash, the thorn, the cross.

How could He bear it?
He bore it without reprisal.
Speaking nothing, except for others
'Mother, behold thy son' and 'Father forgive them'
How I would have worn my voice away in curses at those Centurions!
railing out in my anger that they could not defeat me

That I would be dead but awaiting in Elysium
with a gladius in hand to administer their second death!
Christ changed all that, took all the ills
the bloodletting, the whoredoms, the deceit
He took it all
bore a weight greater than that atlas could ever tire of

shouldering these finite squabblings from finite menin His infinity;
these pains counted down to the mite~
and changing the brush strokes, ever so subtly
turning the sin He bought and knew to His bones,
into a masterpiece

That leper's bell thrown unneeded to the dust!
That hem for my issue of blood to be healed!
Those forceps for this thorn to be pulled!
This roof thus opened, and I let down into His midst!
Those demons commanded to swine and the sea! and
This garden to plant a mustard seed.

-Jay
10-4-09
22:02

2009-09-23T00:01:00.004-06:00

Picasso and the Hand of God

these days of despair
when quailing, my heart ventures out
I half expect some tragedy
to come in to my home and destroy.
Each day a chorus of news paints pictures
of gristly scenes, twisted in anguish~
Guernica is everywhere, everywhere,
and so many saviors carrying standards
their great flapping flags concealing spears, swords,
so quick to light the crucible and heat the branding iron
where is my Gaugamela?
who will be my Alexander?
I would to God that it was Christ in a blood red robe,
parting the sky, cleaving the mount
in my mind He looks as a Bloch painting does
yet the scriptures tease that we would not know him
Is this the God who will still my quavering soul?
The one who would calm the tremors, still the shrillness?
May it be!
Man carries on into darkness, clouded
hopes pinned on a revolution, a socialization;
bleak despair and dark hopelessness are opposing millstones
and grind without measure~
my only hope vouched in a faith unscientific--
that paper and ink carry the weight of God!
Perhaps Freud would say it's merely projection;
that I, and others, have repressed desires
but I'd rather my implications than the war to the teeth.
I'd rather my delusions than the darkness.
these days of despair
when quailing, my heart ventures out
half expecting a tragedy
a flower springs up beside these broken swords.

-Jay
9-23-09
0102