Memoirs of the Walking Dead

The Break-Up

2011-10-09T23:12:00.001-05:00

Dear Gallbladder,

It's over between us. I know this is kind of sudden, and a little harsh to lay on someone like you at this time, but the guys you've let move in with you are really cramping my style. At first I was OK with it, but lately they've started driving a wedge between us and has affected the only thing you were hired to do for me; concentrate bile. But now you can't even do that for me.

I'd really like to say that it's not you, it's me. But I can't. I can't stand living this lie any longer. I want to let you know that I have enjoyed out time together, and that over three decades we've gotten along marvelously. You've been there for me when I gorge myself on the deliciousness of highly fatty foods, and you really pulled through for me when I ate an entire blooming onion in one setting. It's times like that I will truly cherish in my memories once you're gone.

So in closing I need you to move out my midnight tonight. If you can't even do that for me I have a specialist that will remove you tomorrow at noon and place you in a small plastic vile filled with a preservative so I can keep you on a shelf and admire you and all our time spent together.

Thank you for understanding, and I hope that we can still be friends.

XOXOX,

ZB

iPod Repeat...

2011-10-07T23:52:00.002-05:00

Pearl Jam - Release

Being in my late teens during the grunge explosion Pearl Jam was, and always will be, one of my favorite bands. From the beginning they went against the norms of the MTV generation and released only a handful of videos over their careers and focused on their music and live performances.The first time I heard this song I remember having chills froms hypnotic rhythm of the instruments and the powerful lyrics that only Vedder could put so much emotion into.

2011-10-07T23:21:00.001-05:00

While in class yesterday I had a much younger friend inform me how he couldn't wait to drive back home this weekend so he can have sex with his girlfriend. Of course I replied with my usual word of wisdom: just make sure you use a condom. Because God knows a kid a will ruin your life at your age. He just laughed.

After a few moments he looked at me and said to me that I was lucky to be married. When I inquired about his reasoning he stated that since I was married I could have sex anytime I wanted to. I then laughed hysterically for a few seconds before shaking my head and quoted a Smashing Pumpkins song: "Youth is wasted on the young." He stared at me perplexed for a moment before going back to taking notes.

Movies v. Actors...

2011-08-27T18:34:00.001-05:00

Just the other day I was having a conversation wondering about which actors improvised scenes of a movie. Of course this was revolving mostly around Will Ferrell and John C. Reilly in Stepbrothers, but it was a good starting point for the inquiry.

So here we have 25 really excellent movies, with the best scenes, and they are improvised by the actors in them. What I'm most impressed with is Harrison Ford playing Han Solo in The Empire Strikes Back. You know which scene I'm talking about. That's why Han is so badass.

The Rum Diary...

2011-08-27T18:15:00.000-05:00

There's nothing better than Depp returning once again to play another of H.S. Thompson's characters. I read this book a few years ago, and really enjoyed it. Of course not as much as Fear and Loathing, but that's hard mountain to climb. This movie seems to be a tad calmer than Fear and Loathing, but from what I remember, the book was the same way. Now we just have to wait until late October to pass judgement.

It Begins Again..

2011-08-21T22:18:00.000-05:00

It's been four months since last I posted on this old blog, and for many reasons I was glad to be away from it. The decision to totally disconnect from technology was impulsive, but it was something that I needed to do for a while. So in April, as I hit bottom, I decided to implement my plan and go lean and keep it bare bones: cell phone only. And it felt good.

I spent the summer working the life of the friendly neighborhood HVAC technician on a high from making a perfect 4.0 (taking 15 hours) my first semester back to university. I smiled and laughed while laboring in the dismal heat and humidity that is common in this part of the country. Even though I kept it safe I fell out from heat exhaustion just once. I must say the hallucinations were really entertaining. There is nothing like seeing a mouse come out from under a piece of insulation and salute you.

Besides work I spent time with the family swimming, grilling, and playing the part of the normal nuclear family. Over that time we've added members to the family. We have two geckos named Batman and the other Rapunzel, a few thousand river snails, hundreds of tadpole/frogs (released into the wild), and now an evil chinchilla named Nacho. This summer was awesome, and in fact, it turned out to be the best four months I've experienced in a long time.

So here I am at the end of another summer. With everything that was stacking up on my shoulders suddenly gone I'm starting to feel really good about the future. Tomorrow I start another semester of university with a grueling nine to twelve hour days, three days a week. I'm feeling more motivated than ever to power through the next 1.5 years and get on with life in a manner I should have done years ago. So now I have to keep my eye on the prize and try not to fuck this up again.

Wanna Know What A Soup Kitchen Is?....

2011-08-21T11:43:00.001-05:00

There may be something you may not know about me; I like Will Ferrell movies. How much you ask? Well enough that I can quote most of them verbatim. There is nothing I enjoy more than quoting lines from his movies into a conversation no matter how weird or nasty they may be.

Just the other day I was talking with some friends about going out and hitting the bars. As the conversation turned serious on dates and times available I threw out there that I would be reluctant to go to a certain bar due to it's high rate of Soup Kitchens occurring in their parking lot. That put a major pause in the conversation until one spoke up and inquired how a soup kitchen was a bad thing. So I smiled and said "OK. Well if the thought of having a bunch of homeless dudes having an orgy in you car sounds good I'm OK with it, but I'm not taking MY car."

iPod Repeat...

2011-08-21T11:33:00.000-05:00

Wild Flag - Future Crimes (Live SXSW)

Being a long time Sleater-Kinney fan, I was very disappointed when they split and went their separate ways. But lucky for us Wild Flag appeared to bring back this awesome sound that, for some unknown reason, has stayed under the radar of mainstream music. Some of my friends say they enjoy their music to stay a little underground, but I say no. More people should hear this music and enjoy what they have to offer us.

Returning With A Gift...

2011-08-19T21:46:00.001-05:00

I was always told that when you went away on vacation that you should always bring a gift back. So to celebrate my return of a self-imposed technology exile, I present this video to you my dear readers. Some have told me that it's plain stupid, while others say it's the funniest thing they've seen on YouTube in a while. I am one of the latter. So enjoy this little token of my affection and we'll be seeing more of each other again soon.

No It Isn't....

2011-04-29T20:58:00.000-05:00

There is something about these bleak and dreary days that force me to reflect on everything negative in my life. The rain has been pouring from the sky for five days now. The flooding of streets, canals, and ditches are a metaphor of my negative thought routines that are compounded daily. Sorted and filed away in its proper place to keep me doubting my own self worth. A database my subconscious uses against me whenever I start to feel optimistic about something or another. It is truly a dreary existence.

While my family is way for the weekend I looked forward to the solace that would come with having a quiet home to come home to every day. The irony is in the fact that I can't stand it. I've become so accustomed to the raucous home-life of having three small children that when they are gone, I can't sleep. I still walk around quietly in the morning as to not wake the children. Something so vital to my daily routine is missing and I can't stand it, even though I should be taking advantage of it all and reveling in the glorious sense of serenity. This I cannot do.

One week remains until a much deserved break from this utter boredom of computer science. I've gotten to the point in which I no longer care about even going to class anymore. I'm tired of having to learn things that will not be the least bit practical to the job I am focusing on. I don't even know what I want to do anymore. The only reason I chose this route was to quickly obtain a degree and start making money in a field that is growing biannually. But I have to ask myself if this will transform our family life from this dysfunctional unit of barely clinging onto the possibilities of a better life once money is incorporated into the equation? I'm tired of all this nerd-ville shenanigans that I meander through grudgingly daily. I find no excitement in processors speed, nor do I even care to learn about the dark side of this profession. I crave stimulation, and I have found none. I need constant change, and all I have discovered is the repetitious lines of codes and equations.

So is this what I hoped for? I have no answer to this, but instead I am pondering another question: Can I answer a question when I don't even know what I even hoped there would be?

iPod Repeat..

2011-04-18T22:16:00.000-05:00

Asteroids Galaxy Tour - The Golden Age

I got this song stuck in my head last week when a Heineken commercial popped up featuring this video and song. There is something about he cool swinger beat with the lead singer's voice that keeps me doing the "Hipster Head Nod" whenever I hear it. I thought my affinity for this band may have been a fluke. Some kind of primal, sexual attraction to European blondes deep within my subconscious that was deceiving me. So I looked into their other songs, and found that I truly enjoy their sound:

Silence is Cobalt..

2011-04-16T22:45:00.000-05:00

"These people so scared of silence. These are my neighbors. These sound-oholics. These quiet-ophobics." - Chuck Palahniuk

Silence. Like some precious element in our society teetering on the verge of extinction, is a commodity that is quickly running thin. I would pay anything to live like we did a few years back with four acres surrounding our home with a yard full of trees and soft lush grass. Silence was truly golden back then, and I was ignorant of how precious it truly was.

I miss the days when the only noise I would hear at night were the crickets rubbing their legs together in various rhythms, and the sound of the occasional bat squeaking overhead. Now I am surrounded by what Palahniuk defined as "sound-oholics" filling the air with their emotional states. I long for the quiet of the warm southern nights spent in the country. The darkness amplifying the the sounds of nature playing their game of life and death in unison and chaos. Now living in this suburban cul-de-sac of "quiet-ophobes" where homes sit practicably on top of one another is starting to get under my skin. It's never truly quiet anymore.

The home to the left resides Mush-mouth. Usually so high he can barely put together anything resembling a sentence. His specialty is smoking blunts while blasting hard core gangsta rap from his shitty Ford Focus factory speakers at all hours of the night.

Across the street is a Red Neck Joe who has a chopper motorcycle that he likes to park in the front yard, start it up and leave it there unattended and running churning out this guttural, mechanical burping exhaust that rattles the windows in the front room.

Then to our rear is The Idiot. Totally oblivious to the fact that the resides in a close neighborhood and lives, much like I suspect he used to, in the country. He's constantly tilling a small garden, mowing, weed eating, and blasting bad southern rock of the 80s and 90's blaring from a surround sound system rigged to the top of his RV parked in the back yard pointed directly to our sun room. He usually cranks it up around 6pm and doesn't stop until 10pm or when the neighbors start calling the police, but the next day he does it all over again.

I'm tired of being forced to experience this constant bombardment of noise being puked out by ignorance and disrespect. How much more can one take before totally snapping and taking a baseball bat to these engines that perpetuate noise pollution. It would be nice to have a warm spring day without having to hear this symphony of useless sound. I need an EMP. I wonder how hard it would be to make.

The List..

2011-04-16T14:31:00.000-05:00

The 20 Most Inappropriate Songs Ever Used In Commercials

20. Wendy’s – “Blister In The Sun” by Violent Femmes
19. Royal Caribbean – “Lust For Life” by Iggy Pop
18. AARP – “Everybody’s Happy Nowadays” by The Buzzcocks
17. Windows 95 – “Start Me Up” by The Rolling Stones
16. Lincoln – “Space Oddity” by David Bowie
15. Mitsubishi – “Uncontrollable Urge” by Devo
14. Subaru – “If I Should Fall From Grace With God” by The Pogues
13. Applebee’s – “Happy Together” by The Turtles
12. Nissan – “How Soon Is Now” by The Smiths
11. H&R Block – “Taxman” by The Beatles
10. Garnier Fructis – “Diamonds and Guns” by The Transplants
9. Wishbone Salad Dressing – “Bump” by Spank Rock
8. Nike – “Revolution” by The Beatles
7. Ortho Tri-Cyclen – “There She Goes” by The La’s
6. Cesar Dog Food – “I Think I Need A New Heart” by The Magnetic Fields
5. Wrangler “Fortunate Son” by CCR
4. Cadillac – “Sunny Side Of The Street” by The Pogues
3. Levi’s – “Holiday In Cambodia” by The Dead Kennedys
2. NFL – “Everyday Is Like Sunday” by Morrissey
1. Pepsi – “Brown Sugar” by The Rolling Stones

by Dan Hopper

Whilst perusing the goods over at This Isn't Happiness I read this list and was happy to find #14 was on it. Ever since Subaru started airing this commercial with the sad If I Should Fall from Grace with God performed by The Pogues I have been pissed. A total misrepresentation of the song's fast paced Irish Folk/Punk beat as a backdrop of the families driving the vehicle with their bundles of smiling hockey playing joy. All of this visual happiness plays out as MacGowen's lyrics flow throughout the commercial asking to be allowed to die in the background. Simply amazing.

Blinky...

2011-03-24T21:17:00.000-05:00

Blinky™ from Ruairi Robinson on Vimeo.

The other day in class we got onto the topic of how close computer artificial intelligence (AI) is to being able to interact with humans. The military has AI that can fly jets beyond and human, and in fact scrapped the program because of the possibility of the computer becoming self aware and thus becoming unstoppable by humans. There is always a flaw in the system. No matter how smart the programmers are, or how fast the processors run, all it takes is one glitch and everything can go all Skynet.

I thought it was funny to have been debating the pros and cons just a few days before I came across this film. So innocent in design. A friend. A helper. All it takes is one little shithead to throw a temper tantrum to slip the programming just off center enough to make everything go wrong. An excellent short.

Movie Time...

2011-03-11T17:24:00.000-06:00

Super

This looks so good. As soon as I saw the Wilson and Page were the main characters I was reminded of their scene in Juno. Seeing them together in this trailer reminded me of that chemistry. Hopefully it will be as funny as it appears to be.

Shut up crime!

Cultured..

2011-03-07T23:16:00.000-06:00

Lea Salonga - I Dreamed A Dream (Les Miserables 25th Anniversary Concert)

When A and I first started dating she introduced me to the world of musical plays. I can still remember the dread I felt walking into the lobby of The Fabulous Fox Theater in St. Louis to see my first show The Phantom of the Opera. It was nothing like I had ever experienced. The theater was like something from an old opera house in 18th century Paris. We were so close that you could see the actual skill it took for these actor/singers to do their roles. I was blown away. The next show we attended was Les Miserables about a year later. Although the story was not to my liking, it was the songs that got to me. Watching this actress channel the devastation of the song I Dreamed a Dream got me in the old ticker causing my eyes to swell with tears, and silently thanking God that it was too dark for A to notice. Sunday night we watched this special on our local PBS station and seeing Salonga perform this song brought me back to that night in The Fox Theater with A. The night another wall was removed so I could experience something beautiful.

Sleep...

2011-02-27T20:24:00.000-06:00

I always thought insomnia would be the inability to actually fall asleep. I didn't realise it could be different combinations of falling asleep, waking up, and staying asleep. The big problem is being unable to enter that popular REM stage in the sleep cycle. The stage where, some have speculated, the brain takes all the unimportant data gathered through the day and dumps it in one big cluster forming the model of dreams.

When you don't sleep the brain is unable to dump all the excess information, and you feel disconnected and reality becomes a little off center. Vision is blurred. The ability to hear is reduced, or exaggerated depending on the noise. Nothing seems right. The brain's storage bins are overflowing with too much information, and spilling into all the peripheral senses in the body. No muscle or joint is able to rest, and repair, so the body feels heavier than normal. I know this now.

Going into day three with no more than a couple of hours of sleep a night, has left me exhausted and unable to concentrate on anything. Reading is nearly impossible. Finding that I can visually understand and take in the information, but comprehension was not included in this cycle. I would read sentences over and over again never really understanding what I was doing. I would have to sit back and rub my eyes and tell myself to concentrate for a few seconds before starting over again.

I was so exhausted by the end of the day I fell asleep quickly, and the resulting dreams were horrendous. The brain saw its opportunity and jumped at the chance to dump three days worth of useless information. This provided me with dreams of underwater cave exploration, with ranch style homes contained within the labyrinth. All filled with suburbanite families of zombies inside. The water levels would constantly shift. Rising to fill up the cave where I would have to hold my breath and scramble to find an air pocket. I would then wake up actually holding my breath. After inhaling deeply I would roll over, close my eyes and be plunged straight back where I left the dream. This continued several times throughout the night until I tired of swimming through caverns, and killing the occasional ever present zombies, all wearing khakis and a pastel colored polo shirt.

When will it all end? I should crash soon, but I these runs of insomnia are getting worse and lasting longer. If it didn't affect me so negatively I may actually look forward to the eventual hallucinations that come with sleep deprivation. I just can't do this now. I need to sleep. I need to dream. I need to be normal again.

PSA: Don't Mime...

2011-02-22T20:36:00.000-06:00

When I became a father one of the things on my "Dreading to Do with a Kids" list was their choice of television programs.The only show that actually makes me laugh is The Upside Down Show featuring the comedy duo The Umbilical Brothers, with David (actor in the short film) and Shane. It was smart, funny, and intelligent, which is why Nik Jr decided to only record one season. So in this film David shows the consequences of being a mime, and what the possibilities could be. Enjoy.

iPod Repeat..

2011-02-19T23:03:00.001-06:00

Radiohead - Lotus Flower

Radiohead is a band that I can always depend on to bring something new and brilliant every time they release a new album. No need to waste time listening to one song, or asking around for reviews and such. Lotus Flower is from their newest album titled King of Limbs. So what are you waiting for? Get over to their site and buy it already.

Never Ending..

2011-02-19T22:29:00.000-06:00

I wonder if there has ever been a scientific study on whether a person is lucky or unlucky? Seriously. I would enjoy turning on my favorite news network channel in the morning and listen to the lady with large breasts and way-too-white-teeth-to-be-real speaking about a multi volume study proving, or disproving, the actual existence of luck.

Of course this grand study would take place over many years, cost millions of taxpayer's dollars, and several hundred test subjects. They would have to be comprised of people of various ethnicity's, social classes, sexual orientation, religious beliefs, etc. Statistical data would be compiled by IBM's best supercomputers, barfing out both quantitative and qualitative statistical data for men in starched white lab coats and safety glasses to study. Charts would be produced. Not the usual excel bullshit mind you. These would be able to visually aid the reader into understanding the many variables and sequences of outcomes of decisions. Appendixes would be filled with definitions, explanations of data, and what page to find information like drug use, or masturbation habits of the subjects. This would not be an easy task.

Do I ponder this to further explain the fortunate and unfortunate events of the world's population? Nay. I simply need to understand why I am one of those that would be classified as unlucky....and most likely be one of the subjects listed in the avid masturbatory section. I've tried everything from the spiritual to the supernatural, and I still can't seem to catch a break. The snowball is rolling faster down the hill, acquiring more mass during its revolutions, and thus increasing its velocity. When will it end? Where will the wall pop up and stop its cycle of unlucky events that seems to plague my life? The true bottom feels close, but I gotta know when.

Game Time..

2011-02-16T21:19:00.000-06:00

Dead Island - Teaser Trailer

...this game is no where close to being completed, and yet they threw this little gem to wet the appetites of those of us looking for a good first person post apocalyptic zombie game. All I can say is that the game may be total shite, but I'd pre-order a copy right now if I were able to.

Sometimes You Just Have To Do It....

2011-02-14T23:41:00.000-06:00

Every now and again the truth seeps through my subconscious and spills over into my social media network persona. You know the one where I'm all happy loving life. Three kids, wife, house, and loving where I'm at in this point and time in my life, and where I'm whatever the fuck I'm doing in school. Posting messages of 'Happy Birthday' or 'cute picture of the kids!' Almost 90% of this is total bullshit, and I can't even explain why I do it. Hell, it even embarrasses me to admit it right now.

So every now and again I'll post a tasty quote from an odd movie like Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, or post a video from Pulp Fiction of Jules interacting with another character using mother fucker as an adjective and verb in the same sentence.

Or maybe I'll post something like this:

...or this:

A sort of curve ball that has the capability to disturb and anger some of the people on my "friends list" when they scroll through reading status updates while sipping their morning coffee. I little dose of the odd to get them to open their minds to new and wonderful things. To look into the darkest places and not be frightened by them.

Maybe they don't give shit.

Among the Computer Geeks...

2011-02-13T11:11:00.000-06:00

*the following is an actual conversation that ZB became a part of while attending class in the ISAT program.

[a very loud talking, and obviously home schooled, social retard was bragging about his ability to break into any computer's backdoor and alter files. When ZB laughed out loud about his constant use of the term "backdoor," he turned to ZB and included him into the conversation.]

Loud Talker Dork: What?

ZB: Nothing, man. I just thought it was funny.

Loud Talker Dork: Funny? You think you could keep me out?

ZB: I can guarantee that you couldn't get into my backdoor.

[Loud Talker Dork laughs louder than his normal speaking voice bringing the attention of the entire class on our conversation.]

Loud Talker Dork: I can get into any backdoor out there. Heck, I could get into the instructor's backdoor if I wanted to.

ZB: Dude, he's 400lbs at least. It won't be easy. Plus I'm guessing he's not too good on keeping up with personal hygiene.

[Loud Talker Dork stares at ZB blankly.]

ZB: ....and as far as my backdoor goes it's exit only Sweet Pea.

[the class breaks out in snickers and quiet laughter. Loud Talker Dork's face gets red and his voice becomes much softer as he spoke.]

Loud Talker Dork: That's not what I mean.....I'm not GAY. I'm talking about computers backdoors.

ZB: Sure you were, and I'm not here to judge sexual orientation.

The Intersection...

2011-02-11T06:42:00.000-06:00

I was sitting at one of the main intersections of the city I live in trapped behind long lines of vehicles waiting their turn for in the cycle of lights to change from red to green. I sat there patiently looking straight ahead. My mind devoid of any thoughts, I simply stared at the light like some mule waiting for the dangling of a carrot to come into my line of sight so I could join the masses and meander along with all the others. As one cycle passed and I moved a few feet towards the openness of the intersection, the light changed quickly to red, as my eyes suddenly went to the couple leaving a movie rental chain. Slowly they were walking to their parked vehicle and I could not take my eyes from them.

At first my thoughts of the two were whimsical. Watching two people holding hands walking with smiles stretching their facial features upward. Hands entwined as if they were always meant to be that way. Suddenly my mind turned to envious and sadness. I saw myself and A in the pair. I saw us doing that exact same thing in what feels like a lifetime ago. Ten years is a long time. Things change. People change, or do they? Some say the only thing people are capable of physically doing is evolving, but never simply changing. Regardless I swept all thoughts aside and watched them get into their vehicle with too many DVDs to watch in one night, laughing and drive across the parking lot and out of my vision.

An agitated honk from behind me woke me from my daydream and I finally noticed that my light was green and the three cars ahead of me were at least two blocks up the road. I pressed the gas peddle and entered the intersection giving the parking lot one last wistful glance and left it behind. Like so many thoughts, dreams, or ideas they were gone in an instant. I once again melted back into the masses and became part of the herd. No thoughts. No dreams.

A Good Day...

2011-02-03T22:24:00.000-06:00

Sometimes, every so often, a good day will come your way. Something will happen that will flip the switch from total shite to unbelievable greatness in just nanoseconds. For me today was that kind of day.

Nothing has worried me more, or made me doubt myself more, than my Nursing School fiasco. It made me doubt my abilities so much that making the most unimportant decision was a total strain on me physically and mentally. I needed something to reaffirm that I was indeed at some level of intelligence higher than that of a common turnip.

My second week of class was also the first rounds of testing and graded homework assignments. As I walked into my 300 level Technical Writing class I was greeted by my professor handing out the previous weeks project on ethics. As I looked at the white front page dotted together with words my eyes were drawn to a hand written remark at the bottom of the page which read: "Super Job Zombie Boy!" No other correction marks were found throughout the paper. I was elated to say the least, but the paper was not my biggest concern.

As I walked into my Accounting class and sat down I nervously waited for the professor to come in and hand me back our first test. As he sauntered in he started handing the homework out; 100%. Next came the big one. He handed it to me face down and I walked back to my seat and looked at the front page. 100%.

This has been a turning point of days for me. Living through the last year has been the Mt. Everest of challenges in my life thus far. I needed today. I needed this more than food or water. Today I have been re energized and filled with a confidence that will see me through the next two years.

The White Stripes No More..

2011-02-03T15:50:00.000-06:00

The White Stripes - Sister, Do You Know My Name (live/2000)

I couldn't believe it when I read this article yesterday on the L.A. Times Entertainment Blog:

The White Stripes are calling it a day.
In a statement posted Wednesday on their website, interest in which apparently caused the site to crash Wednesday morning, Jack and Meg White jointly said they will make no more recordings or live appearances as the White Stripes.
Here’s the full text:

The White Stripes would like to announce that today, February 2nd, 2011, their band has officially ended and will make no further new recordings or perform live. The reason is not due to artistic differences or lack of wanting to continue, nor any health issues as both Meg and Jack are feeling fine and in good health.
It is for a myriad of reasons, but mostly to preserve what is beautiful and special about the band and have it stay that way. Meg and Jack want to thank every one of their fans and admirers for the incredible support they have given throughout the 13 plus years of The White Stripes’ intense and incredible career.
Third Man Records will continue to put out unreleased live and studio recordings from The White Stripes in their Vault subscription record club, as well as through regular channels. Both Meg and Jack hope this decision isn’t met with sorrow by their fans but that it is seen as a positive move done out of respect for the art and music that the band has created. It is also done with the utmost respect to those fans who’ve shared in those creations, with their feelings considered greatly.
With that in mind the band have this to say:
‘The White Stripes do not belong to Meg and Jack anymore. The White Stripes belong to you now and you can do with it whatever you want. The beauty of art and music is that it can last forever if people want it to. Thank you for sharing this experience. Your involvement will never be lost on us and we are truly grateful.’
Sincerely,
Meg and Jack White
The White Stripes
A spokeswoman for the duo said there would be no further comment beyond the announcement.
The White Stripes released six studio albums since forming in 1997, and the live album “Under Great White Northern Lights” last year. Its last studio album, "Icky Thump, came in 2007 and reached No. 2 on Billboard’s Top 200 Albums chart. The duo collected four Grammy Awards, and Jack White picked up a fifth related to his work in the White Stripes as the writer of “Seven Nation Army,” named best rock song for 2003.
-- Randy Lewis

Winter Wonderland...

2011-01-23T21:44:00.001-06:00

This winter seems longer and colder than usual. Only a few weeks have passed by with true periods of cold weather, but the weeks pass by in minutes. Months in hours. The cold here isn't like the upper states with all the wondrous fluff allowing kids to make snowmen and forts to have snowball fights. This cold is full of humidity, which causes it to seep into your joints and land wet on your face as soon as you walk out the door instantly causing you to curse yourself for not moving further south where the winters barely get below fifty degrees.

I sit here slouched on the couch watching the fat, sloppy flakes of frozen precipitate fall slowly to the ground through the windows. Highlighted by the backdrop of dark grey skies it stands stark in contrast as it falls. Landing wet on top of the remnants of last weeks pile of snow making more of a messy slush that anything wonderful. No snowmen with the carrot nose and lumps of coal for eyes can be created to the amusement of the kids here. Snowballs are impossible and quickly fall apart leaving young mittens wet and freezing little fingers.

Still staring out the french doors I wonder if I will ever leave this place. Is this the Empire Strikes Back of this Zombie Boy's life? Nothing seems right or correct in my classes. Five out of the six classes have told me that no notes were needed in our class. No real studying was needed except for the need to pay attention and follow the outlines given in class. Only two have actual final exams. This is not what I have expected at a large state university and it's making me nervous. I feel like I need to be doing more, or that I'm missing something that everyone else already knows. Maybe I'm just letting the fear get the best of me. The fear of failing again. Something that can't happen again.

TeeVee Time..

2011-01-22T23:42:00.000-06:00

IFC has been pushing Portlandia for a few months now pretty hard and I was a little sceptical. The clips they would show between programs made me laugh, but being a reluctant fan of Fred Armisen didn't help. Although I've been a fan of Sleater Kinney for a while, and Carrie Brownsein was enough to set the old DVR. So I gave it a shot and was was effin' glad I did. This opening sketch was enough to hook me into the hilarious world Armisen and Brownstein created. If you, as I did, experienced the wonders of the 90's you'll definitely enjoy this show. It just makes me wonder if Portland really is a place where the 90's still exist. If so, I'm seriously considering about moving there.

Larry's Looking Glass..

2011-01-10T10:21:00.000-06:00

"No matter how cleverly you sneak up on a mirror, your reflection always looks you straight in the eye." - Louis Cyphere (Angel Heart)

Larry stood before the large, oval mirror suspended over the bathroom sink and gazed deeply into the reflected image. Staring into the the eyes he knew belonged to him, but could not comprehend the feeling that they belonged to someone else. He stood there waiting for some flicker of the eyes, a twitch of a nostril, something to prove that this was indeed a looking glass into someone else's reality. Nothing.

Larry knows the truth, and yet he stands before this mirror daily and performs this sad ritual. Studying. Waiting. Staring. Standing there in the small bathroom with the door locked and exhaust fan running. Too ashamed of being caught in the act like some teenage boy jacking off to his mother's latest issue of Victoria's Secret catalog. What the reflection tells him is what he already knows. He reads all the scars, lines, wrinkles, and lone white hairs like an Egyptologist reading hieroglyphs in a long forgotten tomb. Maybe that's why he feels so embarrassed in public. Like he is walking around with a list of life's major mistakes flashing like a motel's neon vacancy sign calling attention to him, and his list of fuck-ups posted clearly for people to read.

It usually takes the pitter-patter of footsteps down the hallway, or a knock on the door to rouse him from his hypnotic state. To pull him back into reality, and the truth of what he sees before him. What he sees is a man growing older by the day. His Residual Self Image slowly changing and transforming into what he sees. Nothing.

The M.E.B Syndrome...

2010-12-17T12:33:00.000-06:00

There is a a mass event that occurs on the eve of any wintry storm. At the first hint of ice or snow, this "syndrome" kicks into high gear sending the population into a hysteria that has no actual reasoning. You can go to any grocery store in the town and find aisles, and refrigerated cases empty of three items: Milk, bread, and eggs. A condition I've dubbed the M.E.B. Syndrome.

Over the years I've become more acutely aware of this condition that lurks deep within society's consciousness. Like a dark shadow of panic that is set in the primal portion of the brain ready to take over all rational thought. It causes me to wonder why people are immediately drawn to the three most perishable food items? Surely they don't think believe that in the southern states that you would actually been trapped inside your home for days, or weeks at a time, in this day and age. I mean with all the snowplow trucks bustling about shoving ice and snow from the roadways. Spreading their environmentally polluting salt and ash all over the place to be taken away by melting precipitation into the water supply. Is there really a fear of being "trapped" by the ice and snow?

The most common problems during an ice storm is the build-up of ice on power lines causing shortages in power. Which in that case all three of the items will spoil in lieu of the power outage that would effect the refrigerator. Of course the furnaces would not be functioning without power so the home would be colder and thus sustaining the three items. Still, I just can't empathize the reasoning of it all. What is the percentages of used and unused food stuffs purchased during this time? Maybe we will never know. Mostly because it isn't an actual condition, nor would FEMA fund any type of study on something I've concocted in my head. Unfortunately.

Like most professional procrastinators I usually take note of M.E.B. Syndrome when I find myself in a grocery store attempting to purchase any of the items that I actually am in need of. This year I avoided the dreaded trip to the grocery store, but A was there on the frontlines. Giving me play-by-play text messages of how astounded she was at the amount, and lack of availability, of bread and milk this year. Fortunately she her arrival was just prior to the peak of the growing hysteria, and was able to return home with the items needed, but no real reportable observations. Just a foul mood, which is a side effect for those of us without this condition, and reportable.

Santa Express From Hell...

2010-12-12T23:02:00.000-06:00

Tonight my dear reader I blog here before you as a survivor of one of the most beastly ordeals any person must endure for his family. I feel dirty and used. Like a million showers could never touch the grime I allowed myself to enter on this snowy evening. What am I writing of you ask? I will tell you, but do not shy away, for the name carries with it an evil that chill most mortals to the bone. I fully committed myself, and my family, to experience The Santa Express.

Apparently due to the success of the book and movie The Polar Express our city has decided to use an historic train station to make a few bucks. They used a couple of old engines, three passenger cars, charged ten bones per person, and take them on a 90 minute train ride through the country side of our fair metropolis all while telling the kiddos that we were heading to the North Pole to pick up St. Nick so he could pose for pictures. What did we see whilst shivering on our rickety passenger seats? A lot of backyards and a few pieces of farm land. As I searched for something to keep the kids occupied I pointed out a gaggle of geese by a pond. Except as we passed I found the geese were mere decoys and was actually part of a hunting preserve. Luckily for us the snow hit hard today leaving the temperatures in the mid teens with a constant blustery showering of snow, which mad the trip a little more tolerable.

Luckily we had a family sitting directly behind us that spoke with a shrill northern accent that made me wish for the ability to kick myself in the head. For the entire trip both kids would exclaim every few minutes "I see Santa in the next car!" Then burst into The Twelve Days of Christmas directly at my cerebral cortex. Just when I thought I could take no more Santa arrived and posed for a picture then handed out candy to all the kids. The mixture of pure sugar and the excitement of meeting Santa was like a shot of the purest crystal meth to these kids. As they began to bounce off the walls the train stopped and allowed us to fully experience the thrill of the moment. I voiced my wishing for a roofie to my wife, but Jack replied in a serious tone, "We don't have any roofies." How did he know this?!?

*The picture of Jack is when he discovered the shirt he was wearing had a hood and pulled it over his head. I told him, "Jack, you look straight up gangsta with your hood on." He threw up a sign and said, "East side foo!"

iPod Repeat (X-Mas Episode)...

2010-12-12T22:26:00.000-06:00

SNL - I Wish It Was Christmas Today (2000)

When someone mentions a favorite song during this yule tide season, I immediately start singing this one in my head. Thinking of those awesome lyrics and sweet sweaters of the performers are the heart and soul of the X-Mas spirit for me. Plus, Tracey Morgan is effin' brilliant in this sketch.

Imaginarium...

2010-12-11T08:14:00.000-06:00

I emerged from the coldness of the dank, dark, and incredibly wet crawlspace of the home we were working under and into the warmth of the sun. I crawled from the hole on all fours like a prisoner emerging from a horrid dream and into a world of warm and wondrous freedom. I crawled as far as I could into the sun and then collapsed and rolled onto my back letting the sun heat my body back into reality.

I lay there panting with my limbs uncontrollably shaking and looked into the clear blueness of the mid afternoon sky to find the jetstream of a passenger jet streaking through my framed view. I found myself wishing I could be there inside the plane with all the other travelers going somewhere other than here. Sitting in a comfortable, but cramped chair sipping on a cranberry juice in the small plastic cup. Munching on the small bag of pretzels handed out by the flight attendants. Peering out the tiny window with a smile I always have while flying, and looking down upon the earth wondering what the people were doing beneath us.

My sense of wishing went from a daydream and into a powerful form concentration. With all my will I concentrated upon the small white object quickly passing out of my view. Hoping I could teleport myself there. To change places with one of those passengers. Without moving my head the plane left my view leaving only its dissipating white line where it passed. Finally I blinked my eyes and quickly became aware of where I was; of who I am. I man laying in the dirt and mud. Soaked to the bone with frigid, muddy water that collects under an unventilated home's foundation. Going nowhere. I sat up and looked back at the hole I emerged from and realized that there was only one place for me to go.

iPod Repeat..

2010-12-08T21:12:00.000-06:00

Old 97's - Time Bomb (live)
Few bands defined a specific happy time in my life as the Old 97's have done. A young ZombieBoy straight out of high school and partying with he big dogs. Well, at least we thought we were, which was usually contested by most people we met. Why this band never made it big is beyond me, yet they just happen to be "one of those bands that played that song at that party one night at the EX house when you met that girl" kind of band. Good times...

Sucker Punch..

2010-12-07T16:55:00.001-06:00

Sucker Punch - March 2011

There are a some movies coming out in the next few months that I'm getting pretty excited about, and this is number one on the list. Zach Snyder is an amazing director, and being able to project a comic book style over the top action onto film is nothing short or incredible.

The Job and Etiquette...

2010-12-07T11:54:00.000-06:00

Every so often I am reminded of the major, internal faults of people who are totally blinded by their faith. The blinders keeping them from realizing where personal boundaries are and when they should stop their rhetoric. People like this go beyond mere "pet peeves" for me. In fact I find them highly insulting to me on a personal level.

I have absolutely no problem with people and their faith, and I can totally empathize with why people use it as a rock to help them deal with their daily lives. What I do not agree with is a person pushing their specifically extroverted interpretation of faith onto total strangers. When I worked for The Company I found when a person started evangelizing to me I would bluntly say "I prefer not to discuss personal faith with strangers." It was very polite and yet put the wall up quickly on where my personal boundaries are. It worked most of the time.

In my line of toiling I have been given the opportunity to work in some of the cleanest, and some of the nastiest human dwellings. I can usually tell what the condition the home is going to be like on the inside from the front door. Today I was greeted with two pieces of scripture engraved onto thin sheets of brass affixed to the door. As I knocked on the door I noticed the hand made sticker on the home owner's truck which read "Rise Up to Heaven, or Turn and Burn." I made a mental note to see if he could hook me up with one of those on my car.

From the time we entered the home the owner, and apparent devout Christian, bombarded us with tales of missionary work, offers of bibles, religious literature, and jokes revolving around Jesus or the Devil. So we smiled and nodded our heads, and politely refused any literature as being against policy. When we finished the job I lit a coffin nail and waited for the boss to inspect everything. The owner came out and handed me a copy of a cartoon from the local paper where a goofy looking guy stood before St. Peter baffled that cigarettes had killed him. I smiled and handed it back to him. He was concerned that I didn't laugh and continued to explain the cartoon to me as if I were daft at not throwing down the smoldering butt and proclaim he had saved me from certain death.

As we loaded the van and began our departure the Holy Man came up to us handing each of us a penny (1 cent coin), that had a cross stamped out of the center of the metal. I asked him if he did these, which I later found to be a big mistake. He then told a story, as he probably has a thousand times before, about a Nascar driver's brother who stamps out about a thousand of these a day so they could be handed out by all his friends, Holy Man apparently being one of them, and remind people of Christ's love.

I couldn't take it anymore. I smiled and told him he should be careful with these. He laughed and asked why. As I looked closely at the coin in my hand I told him it was because it looks as if he was handing out United States currency that has been defaced. He repeated the word defaced slowly and with an odd expression on his face. I continued to inform him that you're not even allowed to write on bills, but to actually, purposely, and without regard to the value represented by the coin remove metal from it is probably pretty severe.I added that Federal Laws aren't very lenient when it came to money, and I sure wouldn't want to be caught doing it. As he looked at me blankly I added cheerfully, "Look on the bright side. You've got God on your side."

Puppets...

2010-12-06T22:02:00.000-06:00

Royal de Luxe - The Sultan's Elephant

I love the facial expressions along with the movement. Honestly, puppets usually give me the creeps, but I can put aside my childish fears and embrace the artistic endeavors.Simply amazing.

AMC's The Walking Dead Season 1 Review...

2010-12-05T22:52:00.000-06:00

As I've stated before I have been an obsessive fan of the comic since its first issue, and original version, of Kirkman's masterpiece The Walking Dead. I have chosen to leave any opinion on the television adaptation of the comic until after the last episode of season one. Believe me, this has been a hard choice to live with from what I've watched over the past six weeks.

I understand that adapting a movie or television series from a book would be a hard task to accomplish. Extra, smaller, storylines would have to be created and added to make up for time. Maybe sprinkle in a few kill-off characters to keep the suspense and overall feeling of hopelessness alive in the show. From what I've seen so far is nothing less than a disgraceful homage to a great story.

The first five minutes of the first episode left me giddy, and excited at the prospect of what was to come. I even looked past the over dramatic soap opera style acting that was paraded on the screen. The switching of the two sisters, Andrea and Amy, in which Andrea was supposed to be the youngest and survive. Eventually I found my attention span fading away. By episode four I knew that they were quickly fluttering away from the original story line and creating a story that has almost nothing to do with the books.

The zombies are amazing. The special effects and the sets are stunning. There is a never ending supply of tears, gore, and straight up zombie killing in every way imaginable. I just can't help but wonder why. Why did they choose these actors? Why did they choose this story line? Why are they still using guns? Why am I still watching this? Who the fuck is the redneck besides being one of the brothers from The Boondock Saints?

All I can do now is sit and wait for episode one of season two. Hope that they get their heads out of their rectums and decide to get back on track. Kill off the characters that should have been dead by episode four at least. Introduce the characters that should have show up by episode three. I get it that the total fall of the human race sucks, but I just don't feel it like I do in the comics. Now I wait.

Winter Gloom..

2010-12-05T10:36:00.000-06:00

This time of year brings about a nice mixture of darkness and brightness to my fragile neuro network of emotional systems. The unexplainable emotional swings of how it works keeps me on the edge of wondering what will be from day to day.

On one hand I have the joy of seeing my young family look upon our illuminated, plastic X-mas tree with wonder, and wild imagination. With all its mismatched colors of lights peeking around the mad mixture of ornaments hanging from almost every plastic covered wire branch sticking out. It makes me smile wondering what the kids must be thinking about all this. Thinking of what will occur in a few weeks when a mysterious fat man clothed in red will leave them gifts, wrapped in brightly colored paper, beneath it. Just thinking of that exhaustive morning fills me with the excitement of seeing them tear into the packages like a pack of wolves on a kill. Pulling out the prized gifts and marveling at them only briefly before moving on to the next. It's truly an amazing sight to behold.

On the other hand I seem to feel the coldness of the weather seep into my bones and muscles leaving me sluggish and tired both physically and mentally. The landscape goes from bright colors one warm day, and into an almost instant sepia contrast of cold, muted colors the next. It seems to sap me of almost all creativity in both verbal and cognitive abilities. Toiling in the same job for the past year has taken it's toll on me. My hands are dry, rough, and cracked to the point of bleeding. I need some sort of mental stimulation to get me going again. A creative jump start if you will.

I can't wait to put this foul year behind me, and write it off as poor choices compounded with even worse luck. Hopefully I will find my niche when I start classes in January. I need the mental stimulation of class work, studying, and testing. Something to refocus upon and expand my mind into some shell of creativity that I can be proud of again.

Forgotten Families..

2010-10-22T23:34:00.000-05:00

Flogging Molly - The Likes of You Again

I've been haunted lately by families I've never met, and long forgotten. An unanticipated, and an extremely abrupt attempt to make contact with me have left me in a fowl mood. Things that I have come to terms with long ago, and have since dismissed from memory, are pushed back to the frontlines of my consciousness. Making me rethink and doubt my initial resolve and thus causing confusion. This always pisses me off.

Through the wondrous, and magical abilities of the intranet, these family members can "friend' me and use this social medium as a looking glass of sorts, and see this Rockwell-like persona I provide for others to look upon. I still don't know why I do this. I want to be above acting in this manner, but unfortunately I can't. The wiring is way too complicated and screwed up for the layman to try and decipher. So after being polite and try my damnedest to keep my mouth shut I finally blow up them and tell them how I feel in a crude and unfiltered manner.

So here I am at the point I don't want to be in. The point of feeling guilty for hurting someone with such high hopes and expectations. Enough of the old hopes and expectations to make themselves believe that it would be OK to lie to me. To insinuate shortened time frames due to illness or age. To have the inability to see from another's perspective on events of the past, present, or possible future. Making me want to abort the mission and jam down the lever that reads "escape."

I'm tired in more ways than one. They don't understand the whys I provide them with, and how can I explain when I really don't understand? Focus is what I need. Clarity is what I long for.

iPod Repeat..

2010-10-18T00:13:00.000-05:00

Silversun Pickups - Kissing Families (live)

Not only is this a great song, but the lyrics are something that hit home with me. I can still recall hearing this song played on XM Radio years ago and being left with the feeling that someone just spoken to my soul. Having only heard Lazy Eye played pretty continuously I was hesitant to purchase the CD. All that changed with this song. Conjuring the spirits of bands like Smashing Pumpkins and The Pixies with their slow/fast beat, and the depth of their lyrics, is just the type of music I enjoy.

More Zombie TV..

2010-10-17T15:51:00.000-05:00

Dead Set Trailer

Starting October 25th IFC begins showing the British television show Dead Set. There's nothing like getting into the old Halloween spirit like a nice zombie flick. Especially when it involves my favorite horror genre feasting on reality show a-holes. Not to mention the Halloween premier of The Walking Dead, which I am anxiously counting down the days to see. Plus you have the entire line-up of oldies but goodies like Halloween (old and new), Night of the Living Dead (original flavor), 28 Days & Weeks Later, Shaun of the Dead (of course), and so many more that I'm sure the old DVR couldn't possibly hold them all. So many movies, so little time.

I'm Back....

2010-10-16T14:17:00.001-05:00

We decided to take the kids (minus one) on a little trip down south. What better way to disconnect from all the turmoil and troubles surrounding our lives than to embark upon an overcrowded, overpriced, and totally chaotic mix of cultures crammed into four theme parks? Oh yes my dear reader we did it. We went to Disney World.

Of course one of the best part was EPCOT. Mostly due to the fact that I basically drank my way "around the world" a few times. Of course this liquid courage gave me the guts to start my secret mission. A mission to find out where Walt Disney's cryogenically frozen head is located. I've heard of this rumor for years, and took the opportunity to try my luck this year by starting at the bottom. Of course the "cast members" were of no help. I talked to many and asked if they had ever heard of it being here or in Disneyland. Most responded with blank stares and a few with "Cryogenically? What's that?" Not the cream of the crop and thus my investigations ended after two exhausting days. My conclusion: Either they were highly skilled and trained to identify people snooping around and respond to inquiries about Walt's head and its location, or they were truly morons. I will no give up so easily.

We did the entire gambit of family pictures, prop posing, and character meet-and-greets. I usually enjoy Hollywood Studios theme park mostly due to their area devoted to Star Wars. But alas the Star Tours ride was down for renovation, and it seems they decided to skimp on the gift shop as well. The only attraction I look forward to is Tower of Terror, but my dreams of falling in a crowded elevator was dashed due to mechanical problems.

We also enjoyed the little things in life. Like playing in the dancing water fountains where the kids enjoyed getting sprayed in the face with the amazingly powerful blast of water. Seriously. They were a lot stronger than you'd expect. I guess that's why they have the sign that states not play in the fountains. Then you've got all the scenery. Mainly just the people around the park. There is nothing better than people watching at Disney. Some of the best in the world.

One of the best characters we ran into was this lady playing the part of Alice. Sarcastic, funny, and borderline rude she was my favorite. Of course it may have been all the beers prior to entering "England", but I thought she was great. I just don't see how these people can do this job. Being in a character all day. Having kids grappling onto you with their sticky, filthy hands. Constantly hugging them. I think that would be my Hell. Destined to spend eternity as Peter Pan in Disney World's character mill. *shiver*

All in all it was a nice trip. Seven days of walking fast, waiting in long lines, spending money on over priced food, drink, and souvenirs destined to break or be lost in a matter of weeks. But it was all worth it. The fact is going on this trip was exactly what we needed as a family. We all needed to escape the dim reality of the past year. Now it's time to focus on the future. I came home to an acceptance letter into the local university's IST program, and a job offer that I don't want, but will have to take.

Do Not Be Alarmed...

2010-10-01T22:40:00.000-05:00

Due to the my recent, and abrupt, decision to departure from my overcharging and under bandwidth providing ISP I am still without internet service and the old blog will be in limbo until I can find an honest service provider. Of course this will be like finding an honest politician, but it can be done.... I think. Rest assured my dear reader that I shall return and continue to provide you with the same monotonous, self loathing, drivel that you have become so attuned to while, more often than not, accidentally stumbling upon this page.
-XOXOxoxo,
ZB

The Walking Dead...

2010-08-27T20:58:00.000-05:00

The Walking Dead - AMC (90 Minute Premier October 31st)

The Walking Dead is a comic I've been fiercely collecting for a few years, and is by far one of my favorites. Of course I was first drawn to the comic due to my love/fear/obsession with zombies, but I quickly found that it had a solid story line and excellent character progression. The art is done in black and white, which adds to the ghoulish creepiness of the books. What I enjoy most is the story of this collection. The way the group changes both physically and mentally. The way I would expect survivors to react and adapt in an environment such as this.

A few months ago I was trying to find out when book #12 was coming out and I found that AMC was making a television series out of the books. Being a huge fan I was immediately put on the offensive, and immediately wondering how they could fuck up a great story. Now that I've seen the trailer I'm hesitantly excited by it. The only thing that bothers me, from watching the trailer, is that it is not filmed in black and white. For me this is a part of the comic that adds a little something extra to the story, but I can get past it. Other than that it appears the story follows closely to the first few books, and the zombies look amazing. Anything that triggers the fear I felt when I first watched Night of the Living Dead at the age of nine is doing good in my book. I can't wait until I can program the DVR to record the first episode.

iPod Repeat...

2010-08-24T22:25:00.000-05:00

Smashing Pumpkins - To Forgive

Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness has some of the most prolific, heart wrenching songs I have ever listened to. Even now, when I hear this song, it takes me back to my youth filled with angst and fueled by the need to find something that was never there emotionally. To Forgive, In the Arms of Sleep, Stumbleine, and Love are composed of these strongly emotionally charged lyrics combined with alternating mixes of acoustic and heavy electric. It's funny how the old iPod speaks to me some days. Knowing how I'm feeling and the music I need to fill the holes. Enjoy.

To Forgive Lyrics:

ten times removed
i forget about where it all began
bastard son of a bastard son of
a wild eyed child of the sun
and right as rain, i'm not the same but
i feel the same, i feel nothing

holding back the fool again
holding back the fool pretends
i forget to forget nothing is important
holding back the fool again

i sensed my loss
before i even learned to talk
and i remember my birthdays
empty party afternoons won't come back

holding back the fool again
holding back the fool pretends
i forget to forget nothing is important
holding back the fool again

i forget to forget me
i forget to forget you see
nothing is important to me

i knew my loss
before i even learned to speak
and all along, i knew it was wrong
but i played along, with my birthday song

holding back the fool again
holding back the fool pretends
i forget to forget nothing is important
holding back the fool again

While Driving...

2010-08-21T23:06:00.000-05:00

Many of our fellow drivers on the asphalt roadways of this great land have a myriad of strange rituals they perform whilst driving. Some like to sing, whether it be at the top of their lungs, dancing about, and using hand gestures, or softly and in an almost shy manner. Some decide to take the time to put on make up, readjust their hair-dids, or even apply a fresh coat of nail polish. So many things we all do are amazing, or even startling to some, while others see nothing wrong with it. How do I know this? Why my dear reader I have a secret habit, and it's watching these people while I'm driving.

I refer to it Recreational Observation of Other Motorists, or ROOM for short. I've had this habit since I began driving, albeit illegally, since I was fourteen. Starting as simply as watching drivers in their cars at intersections I really got the bug when I noticed how many people seemingly absentmindedly would dig around in their noses. It wasn't like you could point to a certain group of people doing this. There was absolutely no rhyme or reason to it, but it is the number one past time of most drivers. Of course most, if not all, that I've observed had been alone while doing this. Except for the occasional long-term, or married couples comfortable enough to go mining for gold in the presence of the other.

This compulsion matured after I was actually trained to do this after becoming a Company Man. Observations is one of the top three skill sets in the Corporation and I was tested constantly in this this, and I loved it. Everything depended on what you saw occur and how quickly, and precisely that information could be conveyed. After that I became so good that I started being able to ROOM while driving. My eyes were instantly pulled and focused on the drivers of passing cars. I don't even realize I'm doing ROOM anymore until I see something from a car passing by that makes me laugh. After nearly a decade of doing this on a near daily basis has made this almost second nature. I am even able to do this at night. I watch as my headlights illuminate the driver and for a brief, few seconds I can peer into their world and then disappear.

The human eye is truly amazing, coupled with the brain, as to how quickly information is caught, processed, conveyed, and interpreted. It amazes me how quickly the glimpses are, but they continue to be seared into my memory for days on end. I've never really explained this to anyone. Not anything more than the frequent asking of "Did you see that guy's head?" or "Man she was at least knuckle deep into her nose for that one." Is it weird? Is it strange? Should I stop or seek professional help? Other than for my own amusement no harm has come out of it. It affects my driving no more than blinking my eye does. No, I don't think I'll ever stop. You people are way too entertaining.

iPod Repeat...

2010-08-21T21:57:00.000-05:00

Van Morrison - Into the Mystic

We were born before the wind
Also younger than the sun
Ere the bonnie boat was won as we sailed into the mystic
Hark, now hear the sailors cry
Smell the sea and feel the sky
Let your soul and spirit fly into the mystic

And when that fog horn blows I will be coming home
And when the fog horn blows I want to hear it
I don't have to fear it

And I want to rock your gypsy soul
Just like way back in the days of old
And magnificently we will flow into the mystic

When that fog horn blows you know I will be coming home
And when that fog horn whistle blows I got to hear it
I don't have to fear it

And I want to rock your gypsy soul
Just like way back in the days of old
And together we will flow into the mystic

Come on girl...

The Interview...

2010-08-18T21:30:00.000-05:00

*the following is an actual job interview that ZB reluctantly attended.

[after sitting in an extremely hot waiting area for over one hour ZB is taken to a small room with three gentleman sitting at a table in front of him.]

ZB: Hello fellas.

Gum Chomper Bob: Hello ZB I'm Gum Chomper Bob, [points to his right] this is Smug Bob, [points to the man at the end of the table] and this is Diamond Earring Bob.

[ ZB shakes each Bob by the hand and regurgitates their names in turn and then sits down.]

Diamond Earring Bob: Could you tell us about your work history?

ZB: Of course....[ZB recites his educational background, work history as a Company Man, and his specialties like he was giving a deposition. He speaks clearly and attempts eye contact with each Bob as he speaks, but notices they are all looking at their files semi ignoring him.]

Gum Chomper Bob: [loudly chomping his gum as he speaks] Do you have any skills related to the manufacturing industry?

[ZB starts to realize through the Bobs' body language that there was something off in their behavior towards him. An almost shitty attitude is emanating from them; probably due to his time with The Company.]

ZB: [after a long pause] Absolutely none Bob.

[they all look at each other with a bit of perplexity.]

Diamond Earring Bob: So, do you have any special skills like electrical, computer, or engineering related that could benefit our company?

ZB: Skills that could benefit a large, national manufacturing company like this?

[all three stare at him blankly for a few seconds.]

Smug Bob: [the first and only time he looks up from his file and speaks to ZB] Well, Yeah.

ZB: [smiles broadly] Absolutely none Bob.

Gum Chomper Bob: So, what are looking to gain from working here?

ZB: [looks at each Bob] Well guys you see I'm looking for a job with benefits and good pay to support my family, and it's either this or I go back to my original plan of total world domination. [ZB smiles and looks at Smug Bob] You know what I'm saying, right? [Smug Bob never looks up from the file] And to be quite honest guys, I don't think a degree in Biology and Chemistry will benefit you guys in any way, nor would it affect my ability to lift and transfer your heavy products on you manufacturing floor.

Gum Chomper Bob: I guess not.

Diamond Earring Bob: [smiling pleasantly] Do you have any questions for us?

ZB: I think I got everything I need.

[all three Bobs and I stand in unison and shake hands]

ZB: Thank you for your time fellas. If you need any further information you guys have my number.

Gum Chomper Bob: Thanks for coming. We'll let you know something in the next few days.

ZB: Right on.

[ZB proceeds out the door knowing that call will never come, and is now happy it never did.]

Modern Nomad...

2010-08-17T20:22:00.000-05:00

Moving. It's a emotional mixture of Heaven and Hell for me. There is nothing I enjoy more than moving into a new, or different, home. It's a fatal flaw in my programming; something I've had since childhood. It compels me with this strange desire for change, or a need to break up the consistency of an unchanging environment. Usually after one year of residency I start to feel the need to go elsewhere. By two years I'm dwelling on the flaws I see in the home, the high power and water bills, and the shotty craftsmanship. The simple truth is that I need to go.

I can only describe moving into a different home like waking up Christmas morning as a child, and wandering into the living room to find new and exciting things. This sense of something new, or something different gets me. I crave change and certain abnormalities in life. Waking up in the same room and wandering into the same kitchen every day starts to pick at me after a while. Kind of like an itch I can't reach that grows more and more into an overwhelming urge to scratch it.

The only part I truly loath is the actual moving of accumulated crap. Crap in the sense of items with certain "memory" factors attached to them. Old toys, clothing, and various holiday decorations. I understand that there are certain objects that have to move with you. I know we have to take furniture, appliances, decorations, etc. It just torments me beyond belief that we have a 10 X 14 storage unit so full of boxes of crap that we have absolutely no need for. I bring this up to A every time we move. The only thing she can throw back at me is my ever growing collection of books.

So here we are in a home that has the rooms available to accommodate our family. For my books we have a nice den with large over stuffed furniture so I can sit back and read in peace. Outside we have large fenced in backyard with a swimming pool to keep the kids safe and entertained. All the makings that are befitting of the nuclear family we have created. I sit here comfortable typing in the sun room perfectly at ease with the dwelling we have taken up as our own. I just wonder if I will feel the same this time next year.

Unanswerable Question...

2010-08-01T18:38:00.000-05:00

I was asked a question the other day that, for the life of me, I couldn't answer. Even after it was asked of me I sat there for what seemed to be hours trying to come up with an answer. I felt the pressure, and immense weight of it bearing down on me. It wasn't anything technical or rife with existentialism that I needed to explain in some detail. It was simple. Plain. To the point. A question my five-year-old daughter could answer faster than you could ask it of her. I was simply asked: "What do you want to do for the rest of your life?" I had no response.

A few years ago this question wouldn't have bothered me in the least. I would have smiled, rolled my eyes and continued on by bitching about how The Company's upper management were a bunch of assholes who didn't understand the ground level guys like us. I would have shrugged it off and like a stranger bumping into you while sitting at a bar. Now, it scared the shit out of me.

Being unable to answer questions like this is fine when you have the time to contemplate the answer over the course of a few decades, but time is not in my favor anymore. This is a time when most of my friends have made a nice little career and turned it into a nice little nest egg for the future. Having the ability to see the so called light at the end of the tunnel. Able to take their families on vacations, purchase vehicles every few years, and slowly upgrade their homes as their families expand with their gross net income. I don’t understand it, and more than likely it’s due to the fact that I envy them and loath them at the same time.

Since returning from Canada I’ve had a different outlook on this life I’ve stumbled into. I know there are bigger things than monetary values of one’s bank statements and the overall credit score they go on about in the nightly news reports. When I sit back and think about it I guess, on a primal level, I’m scared. Scared of having my children grow up like I did. Wanting what I’ve been programmed by movies and television as to what I need to be in this life to be considered successful. What makes a person successful? Money. Cars. Houses. All this bullshit and more, leaving nothing to further one's own value. Leaving nothing but a smudge in time when you're gone. Leaving nothing changed for the better to be remembered by.

So I guess the question should be: What do you want to do with what is left of your life?....I guess I still don’t know.

Movie Review..

2010-07-26T22:25:00.000-05:00

Inception - Director Christopher Nolan

I recently read a review of Inception on a blog that I frequent. It simply read: Go see it!. I'll take it up a notch...Go fucking see this fucking movie right fucking now! Nolan is a genius and this movie proves it.

iPod Repeat..

2010-07-26T21:50:00.000-05:00

Best Coast - The Sun Was High (So Was I) Live

I have to give some mad credit to NPR, once again, for hooking me up with another awesome band. During the long drive home from work I caught an interview with Bethany Cosentino talking about her band Best Coast. The way she described her love for California and her band's old school surfer sound caught my ear. Especially when they played portions of their songs like Boyfriend, and When I'm with You, that was it for me. I was hooked. As soon as I got home I was compelled to find this band, through the magic of YouTube, so I could hear more of them and I was not disappointed. So enjoy my dear reader.

Plus, I found a video...

Best Coast - When I'm With You

..and what the hell, here's another one.

Best Coast - Boyfriend (live)

Agitation..

2010-07-18T22:48:00.001-05:00

I'm fucking bored. When I get bored I become easily agitated. And when I get agitated, I start looking for a fight. Nothing major mind you, but something to let me me know I'm still alive. Something to reaffirm that I'm still able to think and respond on a primal level of existence. It's like that small , ancient part of my brain takes over, and makes me think in this manner some would call irrational. I beleive irrationality is in the eye of the beholder. What makes sense and what doesn't is divided by a thin wall of personal opinion. With me there is no win or lose. Kicking someones ass or getting your ass handed to you; it's all the same. Just the bragging rights differ.

When I was with The Company I knew what to do, and where to go to release this agitation. It was almost too easy when you where in the position I was in. When you're within the corporation fighting was an almost weekly event, and it became something you wanted. You craved it. You looked forward to the case where the person would jump and open up an opportunity to prove yourself. When you responded in a violent manner there is nothing in the world that made you feel better. But afterwards you knew what you did was wrong. Not so much legally, but morally. The guilt was barely a whisper when you thought about it, and you felt harder when your reputation grew with the other emplyees within The Company. It's really the only thing I truly miss about The Company.

I knew I was getting the itch again when I noticed this younger guy staring at me in this dive we frequent everyday for lunch. I dismissed this as some working guy with the heat exhaustion stares, and checked back over my shoulder a few times to find him still staring in my direction. I looked over at my buddy and asked, "Is that guy eye fucking me, or does he know you?" T looked over between mouth fulls of chili fries and said, "I don't know him, and yeah, he is staring at you." This hit me all wrong. Before I could rationally think this event through I found myself turning in my seat to face him so i could meet his gaze. I heard myself say aloud in this crowded diner, "You don't fucking know me." He immediately looked down at his cheeseburger and went back to eating. T was laughing and still woofing down his fries, and by boss told me to calm down. I'm pretty sure, now that I think about it, he probably could have cleaned the floor with my old ass, but I still would have jumped first, and it wouldn't have been easy for him.

I need some excitement. Something unplanned and totally random to fall into my path. Things have become way too predictable. We have a lot going on in the next two months. Moving. Vacation. All creating a substantial amount of stress. The job of toil has become too common and tedious. So I wait. I wait for that one thing to cross my path and sure me of this malady.

Jai, A Story..

2010-07-15T21:46:00.000-05:00

Jai remembers listening to an interview one night with a writer who was embedded with a police officer for several weeks. The writer likened being a cop with someone who had enjoyed a lifetime on the ocean marveling at its beauty. Enjoying the power of the waves. The hypnotic reflections. But when that person decides to pokes his head beneath the water for the first time he is mesmerized by a world totally alien, leaving them with images, and a reality, that they could never forget. The enormous depth, the creatures beautiful and horrifying, the colors marvelous and dark, all marring their false impression of the ocean. Jai understood this.

Jai reflected on this as he stood with his left, booted foot on the neck of a man laying prone on the wet pavement. The left side of the man's head pressed against the asphalt. Both arms stretched out in a superhero flight type pose with his palms down; both legs akimbo. Jai watched the rain land on the man's face and flow across the shaven head and over the olive complexion of his face where it accumulated with the rest of the water the right side of his face was planted in. He could tell the man had the fear, and with it he made no movement, or even the slightest attempt to wrestle free. No movement except for his eyes staring at Jai standing above him.

The rain was falling in a slow and steady downpour running over Jai's dark blue uniform leaving nothing dry, and soaking him to the core. He could feel the polished leather of his duty belt becoming heavy from the constant stream of water saturating the pours and applying weight to his hips. The man at his feet was blinking rapidly, mostly due to the runoff of water from Jai's body and the droplets of rain splashing up around his face and into his widened eyes. All the while the man said nothing, but kept a steady gaze at the gun Jai was pointing at his head.

The darkened alleyway was a dead end in the vacant industrial area of the city that most people rarely traveled. Thus giving Jai the time to do what he must to truly justify, and hold true to the oath he swore so many years ago. Some people understand what the world really is made of. Some know what has to be done to properly protect and serve the people. Some know full well justice would never truly be served through the court system. No one is rehabilitated. No one changes. Jai knew all of this.

"Officer, please....don't!" the wiry man managed to squeak out through his nearly obstructed throat.

Jai thumbed the hammer back on his coal black forty-five caliber Heckler and Koch handgun and said, "If I were to let you go. If I were to spare your life would you stop doing the things that brought us together, here, tonight with a gun pointed at your face and a man ready to kill you?"

"God, yes! Yes! Ye-sssss." the man croaked out the last part as Jai applied more pressure on the man's trachea with his boot heel.

It was quiet again. The only noise created was from the falling rain colliding with steel support structures, concrete pads, and the narrow strip of asphalt roadway in this alley. The rusted out gutters made a rhythmic glugging sound as it spat out water onto the road Jai and the man occupied. With this Jai closed his eyes and slowly tilted his head back as if waiting for a response from an unknown advisor. After several seconds his eyes opened and he slowly tilted his head back down and leveled his eyes to the gun's sights. He bent over just a fraction, never taking his eyes from his target, and never moving the gun from the man's head.

"Liar," he softly replied.

BOOM!

One deafening shot rang out breaking the steady rhythm of the rain for only a few seconds, and then returned to its regular tempo. Without taking moving his gaze from the man he placed his weapon back into the holster and secured it with a quick snap. He watched the warm, viscous blood pour from the baseball size hole left in the man's head from the bullet flow out steadily, mixing and slowly dissipating with the flow of water on the street. Expressionless Jai bent over and picked up the brass bullet casing that had been ejected from his gun, that now lay beside the deceased man. He placed the casing in his right pant pocket and squatted down to look into the dead man's lifeless eyes. He found nothing. He felt nothing.

Jai whispered, "You're the first of many Johnny. Until my time comes to an end, I'll hunt, and execute every one like you."

Jai stood up, stepped over the body, and slowly walked back to where his police cruiser was parked under an old awning. As he opened the door he looked back over to where he left Johnny's rain soaked body in the street and spoke aloud, "This is justice. This is how I will fulfill my oath."

Jai turned and sat down into the driver's seat and cranked the engine. The headlights lit up, illuminating the rain falling in the darkness. He put the vehicle in drive and slowly drove down the alley towards the main road. As he pulled out onto what the city named Industrial Road he picked up the radio mic and spoke, "Central Dispatch. Unit 23 back in service."

"Did you try the BLT tonight at the Burger Hut?" came a familiar voice over the radio.

Jai smiled and spoke into the mic, "I did Central Dispatch, and it was delicious."

iPod Repeat...

2010-07-12T22:44:00.000-05:00

Flogging Molly - The Son Never Shines (on closed doors) Live

Flogging Molly - Whistles the Wind (Live)

I needed a little Flogging Molly today. Songs often pop into my cabeza while toiling throughout the day, and these were the two that I kept humming along with. Flogging Molly is one of the bands that I truly enjoy so much that I have to pace myself with their music. I know if I listen to their albums as much as I wanted to I'd burn myself out in a matter of days. So I leave them for only special occasions, or when I really need them to convey what I'm feeling.

A Day at the Grocery with ZB....

2010-07-12T19:07:00.000-05:00

*the following is an actual event when ZB was forced into a conversation between two EMOs whilst perusing the produce section of a local grocery.

[ZB standing at the fuji apple section and trying to find apples with the least amount of bugs and bruises. Two EMOs approach and stand next to him and begin talking.]

EMO Girl: Why are these assholes staring at us. I mean what the fuck?! I want to totally tell them to fuck off.

EMO Boy: You should totally tell them to fuck off.

[ZB gathers his fruit, gives a polite smile and moves on to the grapes. Mere seconds later the two EMOs are standing next to him gathering grapes.]

EMO Girl: Oh my God. Look at that guy over there in the jean shorts. Can you say NASCAR fan?

[Both EMOs begin laughing in this high pitched giggle.]

EMO Boy: What a fucking fag. I bet that's his sister he's married to.

[Both EMOs continue giggling like school girls. ZB looks at them again and moves on to the bread section. again the EMOs approach and stand next him.]

EMO Girl: Did you see that gross, old guy staring at my tits? Can you believe that? How fucking gross.

EMO Boy: Fucking pervert. He's older than your dad. What the fuck is wrong with these people?

[ZB places his loaf of whole wheat bread into the cart and turns to the two EMOs.]

ZB: I totally agree, people around here are total assholes. Where do they get off staring at you guys like animals in a freak show.

[Both EMOs are now smiling at ZB nodding their heads in agreement to his statement.]

EMO Boy: Fucking right man!

ZB: It's not like you guys are trying to attract attention to yourselves or anything. I mean you both look like nice, socially well adjusted young adults.

[Both EMOs stop smiling and stare at ZB with a look of confusion. ZB smiles as he continues talking with an empathetic tone.]

ZB: [talking to EMO Boy] Just because you're wearing a t-shirt that is bright pink, about three sizes too small and has the words "Girl Power" emblazon across the front. Not to mention your jeans are so tight you have camel balls, and your reverse mullet is an unatural jet black color.... plus I'm pretty sure you're wearing lip gloss.

[EMO Boy stands there with a look on his face as if someone placed a turd under his nose.]

ZB: [turns to EMO Girl] And why would anyone be staring at you? You obviously don't want to have old guys staring at you while you're sporting an extremely tight, white tank top that reads "I'm A Whore" in bold black letters. Not to mention your skirt is so short that when you walk your ass cheeks show.

[ZB shakes his head feigning exasperation.]

ZB: They are such assholes.

[ZB smiles, turns back to his cart, and walks away.]

EMO Girl: Dick.

James and Jim, A Story...

2010-07-11T23:36:00.000-05:00

James' worst fear had become reality upon the sudden realization that someone close to him was trying to erase him. They were in no way trying to kill him, but were focusing more on slowly fading him out. Removing him from society and replacing him with someone else. This "someone else" was called Jim.

Jim knew James better than anyone else in his life. They had been together since childhood and have since spent the last 25 years years together. James wouldn't call it a best friend type of situation, but more of a symbiotic relationship. Jim needed James, much like a virus needed a host.

It was Jim that convinced James to go to college and pursue a degree in accounting. James always wanted to be a fireman, but this was thwarted by Jim calling firemen childish. Jim was always able to manipulate James into doing things. Just like when he talked James into dating the "genitally cordial" Heather from Human Resources. James knew better than to date a woman in that state of mind, but his decision was easily manipulated by incessantly calling James a fag or pussy. James knew it was what Jim wanted., because he like whores. James knew that one day Jim would make his big play, and eventually take over complete control. The day was coming soon. He could feel it.

James knew that Jim was about to make his move when he awoke to find himself laying in bed, under the covers, reading The Art of War by flashlight.

"What the fuck are you reading Jim?"

"Go back to sleep James." was the last thing he heard Jim say in his own voice.

Two months had passed since catching Jim in the act. Whenever James would bring it up, Jim would dismiss his inquiries by saying he just wanted to read the interesting book. Jim continued on as if nothing happened. But James remained leery of what had taken place. He knew something odd was happening. There was something strange in the way Jim was behaving. He was more attentive to James' needs. He was agreeing more with James' decisions for dinner or entertainment. All of this was a red flag James should have noticed, but it was too late.

One morning James didn't hear from Jim. This was alarming to say the least since Jim always wakes him up in the morning with a lengthy synopsis of the previous night's dream, which is usually about a whore and how he banged her. By the time he arrived at work James wondered what was going on. Something wasn't right. His head was throbbing. His muscles were tense and aching. every time he tried to drink or eat something he became nauseous. At noon he forced himself to eat the turkey and swiss sandwich he brought, but ended up throwing it up as soon as he swallowed the last bite. Of course this alarmed his co-workers since he projectile vomited chuinks of turkey, swiss, and Sara Lee Honey Wheat bread all over the wall of his cubicle with enough force that it actually ricocheted and sprayed back into his lap. He was sent home.

James was getting scared. As he made his descent in the elevator he was suddenly aware of how alone he was. He needed to talk to somebody, but who? He had no one to talk to other than Heather. He punched the number three on the elevator's control panel and exited the elevator on the third floor. As he made his way down the hallway reeking of fresh vomitus he became very aware of the looks of utter disgust from the people he passed. Some even stopped dead in their tracks and stared at him slack-jawed. James quickened his pace and continued down the hallway. He rounded a corner and knocked quickly on Heather's office door.

"Enter," came the gravely voice of his reluctant girlfriend.

James opened the door, entered the room, and quickly slammed the door behind him. Heather was looking at him without an expression. Just sitting there with her bleach-blond hair perfectly straightened and combed to the side. Her dress suit tailored to accentuate the curves of her body. Her thin framed glasses sat high on the bridge of her nose as she stared at him. She looked at him like it was a normal everyday occurrence for James to walk around covered in puke. She spoke with the same expressionless tone that her face was conveying.

"Well James, you look like shit."

"I'm fucked up Heather. Something is wrong with me. I think I'm dying, or, or something worse."

Heather responded in her flat, monotone voice, "What's worse than dying James?"

"Fuck Heather! I don't know. Maybe being erased or something."

Heather calmly pushed away from her desk and stood up. Slowly walked around her desk and stood six inches away from James. With her face still expressionless she put her arms around James' neck and he actually felt himself start to cry at this display of emotion from her. She cocked her head to the left and quickly lifted her knee straight into James' balls dropping him instantly to the ground where he lay in a fetal position gasping for air.

Without a scrape of emotion Heather calmly said, "That's for last night. Get out of here you faggot and don't call me again. Oh, and you have the smallest dick I've ever had the displeasure of having inside me."

Heather then turned and walked back to her desk, sat down in her chair, and went back to typing on her keyboard. James lay there staring at her in shock and disbelief of what had just taken place. He didn't even care enough to ask what had happened last night, but was more concerned that he might have a small cock. Being a whore means she has probably seen a lot of them, thus making her an expert on the issue.

James finally caught his breath and mustered the strength to get up, and slowly walk out of the office. Limping he made his way back to the elevator, rode it down to the lobby, and exited the building. During the cab ride James just kept thinking to himself that he had to get home. He had to get to bed. When he woke up Jim would be there and everything would be back to normal. He needed normal.

By the time the cab pulled up in front of his apartment he was barely able to walk. He stumbled through the door and into the elevator of his building. As the doors closed he fell against the wall and slid to the floor. His vision was starting to go dark. He rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands trying to clear them, but to no avail. The elevator stopped with a jolt at his floor, and the doors slowly opened. After much struggling James rose to his feet and made his way out by feeling the walls. He continued walking in this manner making his way down the hallway counting the doors until he made it to his apartment. Luckily it was unlocked and he fell through the doorway landing on his face. He closed his now vision less eyes and fell into a deep sleep.

"James! James! Wake the fuck up man!"

It was Jim. James opened his eyes and found that he was standing in the bathroom in front of the mirror over the sink. He looked down at himself and found that he was freshly showered and was wearing a fresh suit. He was surprised at how healthy he looked after the day he had just experienced. He tried to raise his left hand to straighten his tied, but found that he couldn't. He attempted to raise his right arm, but again failed. Nothing was working. Fear washed over him quickly.

"What are you doing Jim?"

As he spoke he realized that apparently his mouth and voice was still able to be controlled.

"It's time for me to take the helm of this cluster fuck James."

These words were coming from his mouth. It was Jim making his big play. He watched as his left arm raised and it's hand straighten the tie at his neck.

"What?!"

"Come now James. You knew this was coming for a while now. Right? I mean, you're not THAT stupid."

"Jim, please don't do this. What have you done to me? Why can't I control anything?

James watched as his body act totally independent from his control. Straightening his hair and picking a small piece of white lint from the lapel of his jacket. Jim was in control now. He'd done it.

"It's simple James. Myself and the rest of your body systems, organs, nerves, muscles have had enough of your control over us. We've all participated in this coup if you will. We've stood by and watched you waste your time doing the bare minimum. Never living life to its fullest. You're a waste James, and we've had enough."

He was showing his teeth with his lips pulled back. Apparently Jim was looking for anything lodged in them.

"What did you promise them Jim? What lies did you convince them of?"

He was no longer smiling. His face became quite serious. He watched his hands grip both sides of the sink as his body leaned in and his face was all that was shown in the mirror's reflection.

"James I promised them nothing more than a better existence. It wasn't my idea you know. Thyroid was the one who brought up the idea of a coup first. I was reluctant of course, but when the lymph glands got on board the rest of them fell like dominoes."

His body stood back upright and continued.

"James, I didn't want to do this to you buddy. Their arguments were way too strong and before I knew it I was talking revolution as well. You're just too fucked up kid. And now it's time for you to go."

James could feel his thoughts fading. He was being erased. All these years of dealing with Jim he knew one day he would lose it all, but never really believed it would happen.

"Jim. Please don't."

"It's done James. It's over for you. If it's any consolation I have a date with Mary. The hot young receptionist from the V.P.'s office. She's really impressed with how your confidence and sense of humor have improved recently."

His vision was all but gone. James could feel the last part of himself slipping away into the dark abyss of nothing.

"Can I ask you one more thing Jim?"

His face smiled in a fashion one gives a dying man his last request before the execution.

"Sure."

"What did you do to piss Heather off so badly?"

He watched his face give a sly grin and a short chuckle.

"I convinced her to let me tie her up on the bed naked, and blindfold her."

He was laughing as he continued.

"After securing the knots I then informed her of how things, particularly me, were about to change drastically. I then took her phone and dialed 911 and sat it on the table."

James interrupted and said, "Jesus Christ Jim..."

"James, when I walked out of the lobby I saw three cop cars, an ambulance, and a firetruck two blocks away hauling ass towards her building."

"I think she cracked a testicle for what you did Jim."

Jim stopped laughing.

"I know. You're lucky you can't feel the intense discomfort or the swelling."

Jim cleared their throat and continued.

"I'm sorry about this James, but you gotta go now. We've decided to make the most out of what little time we have left around here."

James' vision began to blur again. Slowly around the edges at first, but quickly grew leaving barely a pinpoint of light, and then it was gone.

With what little strength James had left he said three words, "Fuck you Jim."

"I'll miss you James." is all he heard as his consciousness fell into the darkness.

New Music (at least it is to me)....

2010-07-07T22:22:00.000-05:00

Jeff Mangum (Neutral Milk Hotel) - In the Aeroplane Over the Sea (live)

I had an old friend post a quote the other day that made me think, smile, and laugh. It was just the thing that always made me smile when someone of such high intelligence was able to put together into words. It was brilliant poetry. She informed me that is was from a song by Jeff Mangum (of Neutral Milk Hotel) and sent me a link to the song performed live via the magic of YouTube. The second performance I watched was this one. Someone so brilliant both musically and lyrically.

Dreams, A Lack of...

2010-07-07T20:34:00.000-05:00

I'm currently running on empty both physically and mentally. After being told to become more creative with writing I've gone totally blank. I can think of nothing of any interest to be driven to write about, nor am I even compelled to think on that level. Of course this lack of creativity is effecting my dreams. A simple pleasure I've always prided myself on has run dry, and it's starting to worry me.

Maybe it's the lack of sleep. The kind of deep sleep that harbors the dreams that I enjoy so much. Medication never works. Its tendency is to interfere with the brain's ability to reach level three or four stages. Both being in a symbiotic relationship. If both do not occur, the end result is nil. As tired as I am you would think I would close my eyes and sleep for hours. But it just isn't true. The time is spent tossing from one side to the other. Unable to actually find comfort.

The days of constant toil are catching up with me again. Tired and weary I pass through the days nearly a zombie living a life I never thought I would have the misfortune to experience. Trying to feign interest in a job I loath daily, and then coming home to play father and husband to a house full happiness to see me, and it's all I got left in me to even play "bodyslam" (not an actual slamming of their little bodies) for just a few minutes. The bottom line is that I'm tired, and there doesn't seem to be any sign of it leaving.

I have this little voice compelling me to sell everything, pack-up the family unit, and move far away. Across the U.S. or maybe even to another country is sounding really good. If only I could get back into my regular dream cycle I know it could ease the burden and help me feel rested. I'm starting to worry that my "Left Brain" is slowly severing its connection with the right, and blocking all creativity. Maybe I've stopped being as observant during the day due to no longer stimulated by my activities or surroundings. Maybe my brain is trying to tell me something. Something I can't comprehend like it's speaking to me in an alien language that I dismiss as a headache. Maybe I just need to get some fucking sleep.

Carolina Chocolate Drops...

2010-07-05T15:45:00.000-05:00

Carolina Chocolate Drops - Cornbread and Butterbeans

I was listening to NPR's Fresh Air on the drive home today, forgoing the usual iPod shuffle, and I had the pleasure of hearing an interview of this band. Being a proud displaced southerner I am not typical in the sense that I do not enjoy most country music. It usually takes a special voice, or style to grab my attention. But when I listened to the Carolina Chocolate Drops talk about their music, and then play, I was sucked in. There is something special in their sound. In their voices. A beat that kept me tapping my hand on the steering wheel made me smile the entire drive home.

....and I think I like their version of this song better:

Carolina Chocolate Drops - Hit'em Up Style

Seeing....

2010-07-04T17:08:00.000-05:00

I've seen too many bad things in this, my relatively, short life. Things that cannot be forgotten. Things that have left dark spots on my soul that have left it scarred with deep wounds, and a bitterness towards my fellow humans. I wish I could block them from my memories. Delete them from the hard drive, but that just isn't possible for someone like me.

Deja vu or visions. An amalgamation of reality, truths, lies, or all the things that have been witnessed by me. I can no longer decipher what they actually are. I have the want, the drive to find the true good in a person. I can't. The variables are too far eschewed for me to rationalize this anymore. I want to forget them all. I want them to stop haunting my dreams, or popping up in my waking state at the most inopportune times.

I think about Sammy Jankis and how lucky I considered him to be, in some weird way. Never remembering anything more than just a few minutes worth of activity. Then it's gone. Nothing but your life prior to the condition is saved. I know that these events are what make a person an individual. To set them apart from all the other genetically similar clones walking around this wonderful world. Choices we make. Mistakes. Love. Death. All are similar on the emotional level. All cause us to change in some way. No matter how big or small these things change us. Change, as they say, is good. But is it always?

Big Bob's...

2010-06-27T07:52:00.000-05:00

As soon as A and I pulled into the parking lot of the Hilton in Huntsville, Alabama we immediately dumped our luggage in the room, hopped back into the vehicle, and headed out again in a southwest direction on the road towards Decatur, Alabama. Our destination, Big Bob Gibson Bar-B-Q. Even after enduring four, ass numbing hours on the highway, we though nothing of driving an extra twenty minutes to get to the best Que I have ever eaten.

I had seen a story on Big Bob's on the Food Network a few weeks ago. They are famous for some good Que, but also because they have created the first white BBQ sauce. Since A surprised me with a trip to the U.S. Space and Rocket Center's Star Wars Exhibition, she also made sure to get us to Big Bob's.

You know it's going to be some good BBQ when you pull into the parking lot and you are instantly hit with the smell of hickory smoke. That smell alone brings back so many memories of the South, but more importantly, it's the smell of deliciousness. I went with the ribs with the traditional red sauce (I'm a stickler for traditional BBQ sauce). I had planned on taking several pictures of the food. A and I eating the meat that was falling off the bone with it's smoky deliciousness. The baked beans with the juice from all that slow cooked pork. The homemade chocolate pie, with a crust that I had not experienced since my great-grandmother died, that I had for dessert. After I took one bite nothing else mattered. Even A, who is a bit of a "talker" said nothing until it was time for dessert. It was truly the best Que I have ever had the privilege of eating.

Tired, So Tired....

2010-06-17T19:29:00.003-05:00

Brian Jonestown Massacre - Open Heart Surgery

The days of toiling are starting to wear me down. The incredibly hot, humid weather is like working in a sauna, or for the past two days like an oven set at 350 degrees (F). Even the most menial tasks leave me covered in sweat, soaked down to my socks and underwear. Nothing helps. Not the copious amounts of Gatorade I drink daily, or the the one hour reprieve when we eat lunch. Nine hours a day, minimum, spent doing this is exhausting all physical and mental capabilities as a functional human.

My skin has turned a nice dark brown color, common with those of us that toil. Of course this "tan" is what we call in the south as a "Farmer's Tan." Meaning that when I remove my shirt my torso is white from the upper chest to the mid thigh area. Nice, I know. Lucky for me, I spent four hours in an attic on Monday banging on a cooling unit, which was (I'm pretty sure) filled with asbestos laden insulation floating freely through what little air there was. That was not a good way to start a new week. By Thursday I feel drained both physically and mentally. By Saturday all I want to do is sleep in the coolness of air conditioned bliss only venturing outside into the sun if I truly have to. I don't feel right again until Sunday, but then there is Monday following close on my heels.

I gotta wonder if this is what I'm destined to do for the next thirty years of life?

Life, A Tragic Comedy..

2010-06-11T22:40:00.004-05:00

Looking back I wish I could laugh at it all, but I can't. The humor has left this aging shell of a man. Dreams and aspirations have started to fade out into an almost incomprehensible misery of self doubt and lies.

When I look at photographs over the years I long to be the person I once was, but I now know it will never be. I've become stuck in an endless void of unlucky events that leave me in situations that are slowly withering my soul into a small unrecognizable mass in the pit of my stomach. It's nearly too much for me to take.

Childish dreams of being part of of something that could change the world. To help the helpless. Nothing is working out the way I planned it. The way I always dreamed it would be has become a cartoonish entity that will never be. I never wanted fame or money. I just wanted the the knowledge that was a part of something that actually made a difference. Now, those dreams make me laugh.

Every choice and decision I've made over the past three years have been wrong. I chose to take on one of the biggest gambles of my life by quiting a solid career and going back to college. I was surprised at the ease at which I excelled in my studies. I have an ability to memorize most things I read, or procedures I'm instructed on. In life it's a curse, but in college it was a blessing. I still don't understand how I failed that test. One day I was being praised by my instructors as being the most promising of the entire class, and the next I was totally cut off. It all fell apart on the failure of one easy test. With one small mistake I was out of the program. Thus ending the dream. Starting a domino effect of what I call bad luck, even though I know in my heart there is no such thing.

I'm tired. Tired of trying. Tired of failing. Tired of A slowly drifting away from me. Looking at me with pity. Sadness. When will I finally give up? When the joke finally lose it's humor?

A Day On The Job With ZB....

2010-06-10T20:13:00.005-05:00

*the following is the actual conversation between ZB and a customer while servicing an external residential cooling unit.

ZB: Hit the power Tyler. Lets fire this baby up.

[Power is activated and fan comes on and makes a loud, but brief sound of broken glass.]

ZB: Aw crap. There goes the mirror. Guess I gotta buy a new one.

Home Owner: What was that?!

ZB: Tyler's dental mirror used to check tight places. I left in on the intake by mistake.

Home Owner: Is that bad?! What will happen to the unit?! Are you going to get the glass out of there?!

[Noticing the drama, ZB becomes annoyed, but continues collecting tools.]

ZB: I'm sorry, what?

Home Owner: What's the glass going to do to my unit?!

ZB: Oh that. Well there is no way to remove the glass shards. We would have to totally dismantle the unit, and it would take all day. You just need to watch for one little thing though.

Home Owner: [with extreme concern.] Oh no. What do I need to do?

ZB: No big deal really. You just need to observe the small glass shards. Make sure they don't pulverise into a powder from the vibrations emitted from the motors of the unit.

Home Owner: Why? Will it damage the unit? Dull the blades? Affect the wiring?

ZB: Oh no. Nothing like that.

[ZB gives a small laugh and continues talking while tidying up his tools.]

ZB: If the three, tiny pieces of glass were to instantaneously succumb to the vibrations of the unit it is possible that the glass would become pulverised into a powder. It could then be lifted, from the force of the fan, and meld with the fan blades; a cloud if you will......it would simply rise and become sucked into the vortex of the wind created by it. If the cloud were to come into contact with the high magnetics of the generator, and coupled with the heat from the compressor, it could cause a dimensional gateway to spontaneously open into a world possibly dominated by a humanoid-like alternate society solely intent on taking over new, vibrant worlds and would possibly, eventually enslave all of humanity.

[The Home Owner is blankly staring at ZB.]

ZB: Of course this is not covered by the factory 10 year waranty.

[ZB then finishes collecting all his things and stands up and looks the Home Owner in the eye and smiles.]

ZB: Do you have any other questions before I leave sir?

Home Owner: No. I think that covers it.

iPod Repeat..

2010-06-10T20:00:00.002-05:00

Queens of the Stone Age - Feel Good Hit For the Summer

There is nothing I like better than QOTSA. Their music is always in flux. Constantly changing with every album they put out there. So nothing made me happier than returning from The Canada and the first song I hear when I push play is this little beauty. It truly is a feel good hit for the summer. All week I've been humming this song at work, and then singing the "cu-cu-cu-cu-cu-cocaine" part. Not that I'd advocate using most of these drug, but I'd defend any one's right to do so. Enjoy.

Canada, The Return..

2010-06-07T21:23:00.003-05:00

I have returned from a place that has been unmolested by the crude fingers of mankind. A place that continues to thrive as it has for thousands of years, or maybe even longer.

Life. Death. Both have a common bond swaying unpredictably on the scales, but always ringing true. The animals continue their symbiotic relationship, thus continuing the cycle of life as it always has. The way it was meant to be. The grand design by Mother Earth is respected, and revered there. For she is the law there.

As I watched the only human contact fly from the water of camp I felt the change. The air was intoxicating in its purity. Except for the occasional high altitude aircraft flying overhead, there was not a noise familiar to me. No gasoline burring vehicles creating their symphony of audible toxic destruction. No bells, sirens, or whistles conveying a message we are preprogrammed to unconsciously decipher. The constant chatter of the masses of humans all communicating as one burping forth their meaningless dialogue. No phones. No humming of power wires. Nothing but wind blowing through the trees spreading their perfume around me. Animals of all sizes communicated their information in the manner inherited through generations of evolution; survival. Short, and to the point. The fear quickly washed over me, and I embraced this foreign emotion like a drug lulling me into a trance of pure beauty.

I found that I was out of my element. A tourist stumbling into an alien world totally unprepared for the horrific beauty of what surrounded me. Of all the things I have endured in my life, I was at a loss.Dumbfounded. All my training was meant for the urban sprawl of civilization, and it equalled nothing in this place. The constant muscle memory training, and near death experiences as a Company Man over the past fifteen years were lost in this wild frontier. I loved it. To be so out of one's own element was as pure as the air here. Total and drastic change of one's comfortable environment is truly the only way to wake up totally from the self induced coma of society.

Seven days in the bush. Myself and three other men used the resources of the land to provide food, warmth, and water to sustain our body's needs to function. Nothing was wasted and everything was precisely calculated as to not overindulge and wake the wrath of Mother Nature. Nothing was more pure than reverting back to the way our bodies were created and designed for. Of course the millennia of evolution, both natural and man made, have taken a toll on our innate primal instincts. I knew the others didn't, or rather, couldn't appreciate our situation in the same manner as I did. But I let them go on about their business as I soaked it all in reveling in it all. The beauty was lost on them. The fear was nonexistent. They only wanted one thing; the numbers of fish caught to have a claim on the bragging rights when they returned to their corporate jobs. A total waste.

Unfortunately I found myself unable to fully adapt. I had gone too long addicted to the conformity of mankind and its evils of technology. Technology created in an effort to allow living to be more efficient. To placate the the masses into losing all skill that we were once borne into. I loved the land, but I knew I was too far gone to ever embrace it in a way it should be. So I let go of it. I left the land with a feeling of having tasted a life I longed to be able to adapt to, but knowing I could not. Or rather would not.

iPod Repeat...

2010-05-19T08:57:00.000-05:00

The Brian Jonestown Massacre -That Girl Suicide

I've had a lot of new music popping up on the radar lately that's been making me smile, and help me along with my daily commute to work. Having heard of The Brian Jonestown Massacre, but never really paying any attention to them, this song found its way through the old iPod and played this song for me. The almost hypnotic flow of their music accompanied by the nearly inaudible lyrics fascinate me. Sending me into a happy trance while I drove down the interstate with the windows down, soaking in the sun and cool breeze of Spring.

iPod Repeat Part 2....

Those Darlins - FunStix Party

The Grates have been talking up this band, hailing from Murfreesboro Tennessee, for some time now. So I decided to go to the old YouTube and check them out. This was the first video I watched, and I was immediately hooked. A mixture of rockabilly, bluegrass, and punk makes them a unique group with an awesome sound. With songs like The Whole Thing, in which they sing about getting drunk and eating a chicken is both hilarious and inspiring. Of course this type of music isn't for everyone, but you got to at least give them a try......for me.

Jack's Movie....

2010-05-17T21:02:00.000-05:00

Girls Just Want To Have Fun (1985)

Yeah, that's right. My two year old son's favorite movie is Girls Just Want To Have Fun. This is the only movie he has ever sat down and watched in its entirety. Am I bothered by this? Yes, but not in the way you might think. You see my dear reader, a young ZB was privy to this movie back in 1985. Having a younger sister who watched it constantly was maddening. I remember racing home from school in an attempt to "call dibs" on the television before she arrived and put the movie into the VCR.

All I wanted to do was watch Transformers and G.I. Joe. A total of one hour's worth of cartoons to fill my daydreams with was all I needed to unwind from grade school. More times than not she would be there before me. Smiling. Watching the movie. Over and over again she would sit cross-legged on the floor mere inches away from the television set watching this movie.

Now I come home from a long day's worth of toiling, and find my son doing the same thing my sister did so many years ago. Jack plays with his four year old sister reenacting the "Dance Off" competition of the stars of the show, Jeff and Jane. It's so sad I know their names. I know them all. I could actually summarize the movie in five minutes giving you a complete, and accurate, back story of the main characters, and the stars they are now. This is depressing. My wife thinks Jack is "so cute." I do not. Not because I believe it will make him more feminine, but more of the fact that I just don't want to fuckin' watch it any more.

So just like I did all those many years ago, I just shake my head and wait for it to end.

Next Door..

2010-05-13T20:57:00.000-05:00

I hate my neighbors. Period. Nothing more should be typed onto this keyboard, and on this blog in regards to this matter. Of course if I did that my one reader would surely become alarmed at my lack of expanding on that one, simple statement, and never return.

When we moved in to our home in the little cul-de-sac, I was happy with the unspoken arrangement our neighbors shared. The main focus was silence. Except for the occasional mower in the afternoon, the street was silent. We all kept to ourselves, leaving most communication in the form of polite hellos, and a simple wave in passing. It was nice. Very nice.

Now we have the equivalent of The Beverly Hillbillies living next door. Actually, that would be insulting to Jed and all his kin. No, this is worse; a Redneck Yankee. In my experience this is some of the more difficult species to deal with. Blessed with ignorance and a general lack of good manners, makes me cringe as if someone was running their nails down a chalkboard. No matter the subject they know all about it, but when you trump them they act hurt and make up some lame excuse about misinformation. Unfortunately there is a large number of them in this area.

So back to my neighbor. They like noise. Anywhere from his constant mowing (3 times a week), to working on the 4 X4 style truck covered in bondo and camouflage tape. If they aren't doing any of the prior activities he will wash something with his gasoline powered pressure washer, or simply turn their favorite country station as loud as it will go from one of their vehicles. There is a transmission from a vehicle laying in the yard. Need I say more? Ok then.

When he first moved in he explained to me how he was going to set up a community garden that we would all participate in. I told him that most of us keep to ourselves, and do nothing more than growing a few tomatoes. He didn't believe me, and was disappointed when the rest of the neighbors declined. Now he has a utility trailer, camper top for his 4 x 4 truck, and a small boat crammed into the empty lot across the street right in the middle of the bulbous area of the road at the end. Nice, I know.

So in my best passive aggressive manner I have made it a point to not "keep up" on the yard as much as I usually do. I've found waiting two weeks, at least, works best. Upon the allotted time frame I''ve given myself I will lay in wait for him to mow his yard. I then wait two more days and then mow. This allows for a non-conformity that I've found frustrates the guy. Nothing is better than mowing the yard and going inside and listen to him complain about it through my open window. Childish? More than likely, but damn if it doesn't make me smile every time. Hopefully we won't have to deal with them too much longer.

iPod Repeat..

2010-05-12T22:39:00.002-05:00

The Dandy Warhols - Bohemian Like You (uncensored)

Every time I hear this band I'm instantly reminded of a life that seems so long ago. Young. Careless. Girl-crazy. The summer before college gave me a taste of freedom and was a tine I absorbed qualities and traits that have made me what I am today. It was a good time for ZB my dear reader. Very good times. A time when I was introduced to different forms of music, and a type of band they labeled as indie. One of those was The Dandy Warhols.

Whatever it is that I like about The Dandy Warhols I can't put my finger on, but I always find myself singing softly along, or turning up the volume when a song from them pops up through the random shuffle. Maybe it's the keyboardist. She is the spitting image of a girl I lusted after the first two semesters of college, but could never get the courage to ask her out. Maybe its just that they are a really good band.

.....Oh, and I found this one as well:

The Dandy Warhols - Godless (live)

The Road, A Review...

2010-05-12T15:09:00.000-05:00

I can't remember the last time I read a fictional book. Recently my reading materials have consisted of historical non-fiction type books detailing the Crusades, or graphic novels. In my search for books to read on the impending Canada excursion, I found The Road by Cormac McCarthy. It took me a total of 24 hours to complete the book, and I have to say that this was one of the best books I have read in quite a while.

A few months ago I decided to go solo to a movie and decided on The Road. I left the movie theater with a feeling of having just seen a great movie, but was unable to understand it fully. Desolate scenes of apocalyptic design. Little to no on-going dialogue. Emotionally, it was draining. Visually it was a masterpiece.

I had all but forgotten about the movie until I found the book staring at me from the 20% off bin in a local chain type store. I read the first few pages and I was baffled by the writer's words; more importantly the lack of any type of sentence structure. I flipped through the pages and found no chapter pages, just paragraphs with sentences and dialogue with an occasional comma and a period. I went pack to the first page and re-read it. After three pages I was sold.

The characters are called Papa, The Boy, or The Man. Nothing more. McCarthy spun a tale partially given to the reader to interpret. The landscapes he described were breathtaking in its horrific nature. A tale of survival at the most basic and primal level. Two people hanging on to what little humanity they had left in a world gone mad. One who remembers the times before, and the other who knows nothing more than the dead world he was born into. The fear and desperation The Man felt given by McCarthy was overwhelming. The great burden of being a father, protector, and even a killer.

Books Needed....

2010-05-02T09:57:00.000-05:00

I've started the process of trying to find a few books that will help pass the time while in Canada. After talking with the the leader of the expedition, I've found that there will be a lot of free time. Unfortunately I'm so out of the loop that I can't think of any books I should take.

So now I leave it up to you my dear reader. Suggest a book in the comments section and, if I use your suggested book(s), win a souvenir from the trip.

Canada...

2010-05-01T12:49:00.000-05:00

In a few weeks I leave for Canada on a fishing trip. A trip to an unknown place, in a secluded location, that we have to be flown into.Forget the fact that I have no experience fishing whatsoever. I guess that's not the point. The fact is that I have been dodging this invite by an in-law for few years now. Luckily I've always had an excuse on why I couldn't go, but given the past few months, I've ran out of excuses.

I can honestly count the number of times I've been fishing on one hand, with three fingers left over. The first time I was seven years old. Armed with a Mickey Mouse brand plastic rod and reel I tenaciously cast my bright red rubber hook into the body of water. Each time I cast I would bring up nothing to show for it. I remember laughter by one of my mother's current husbands as I stood there pissed that there wasn't a fish on the hook.

The second time I was barely sixteen years of age. At two AM I get a pecking on my window by a friend who stated that he couldn't sleep, and needed to go fishing. By the time we arrived at the lake shore I was so drunk I barely remember any actual fishing. Save for the fact that I apparently threw the entire rod and reel into the lake during a particularly flamboyant cast.

As the time to leave draws near I'm actually looking forward to the opportunity to totally disconnect myself from society. I'm told that the place we will be staying is nothing more that a wooden cabin able to accommodate seven people. No electricity. No cell service. Nothing in the way of luxuries that we've grown to depend on. I'm hoping that it will reboot my brain and open my eyes to things I've been missing. Something that will square up my thoughts, and get them in order. Prioritizing, and refiling of disparities, joys, and ambitions. I'm hoping it will change me. I'm hoping it will change me for the better.

Calming....

2010-05-01T09:35:00.000-05:00

As I sat outside watching the storm front roll in, I was struck with the sudden realization of peace. Peace that I hadn't experienced for a long time. The type of peace that drains every dark stain away, leaving only tranquility. Calm. Peace.

As the wind fluctuated in intensity I sat, kicked back in my lawn chair, and listened closely to the beautiful orchestra around me. Closing my eyes, I listened to the wind blowing through the trees. A consistent and constant noise from the wind filled the auditory background, just under the regular hustle and bustle of the city at night. A mere whisper of white noise, it lulled me into a state that relaxed muscles tensed for too long.

In the sky I could see the lighter aircraft passing low overhead. Their flashing green and red strobe lights dotted the sky in patterns, giving a brief glimpse at their wing, fuselage, and tail. The impending storm was forcing them to fly below the clouds. Dark clouds that were dark layers of finger-like projections, moving rapidly through the sky. The lightening started to streak the sky behind them as they raced home. Dull and flat the thunder rumbled; still too far away to put the fear into people.

Suddenly, and without warning, the wind picked up speed and carried with it the unmistakable smell of rain. That wonderful smell. I could breathe this is for hours. I inhaled deeply filling my nose with that beautiful aroma. I filled my lungs to maximum capacity, and then held it in. Holding my breath I felt like I could stay like that forever, but holding on to something of this nature is in vain. For you eventually have to take another breath. It's the natural order of things that gets me.

The pounding of rain on the asphalt of the roads woke me from my daydream. I could hear it on Robinson Road heading straight for me. As it grew closer the noise picked up in volume causing an almost deafening clatter of liquid at velocity versus the immovable surface of terra firma.The noise was deafening as the rain consumed the area around me. The beautiful music of nature. The natural order of things. So strange and beautiful are these occurrences. How wonderful. No matter what we create with all the marvelous wonders of this age, we are all still at the mercy of events that have been both giver and taker for millennia.

iPod Repeat..

2010-04-27T23:01:00.002-05:00

Blink 182 - Feeling This (not live)

It's been too long dear friends.....It has been too long.

News...

2010-04-27T12:49:00.003-05:00

For the love of sweet, 9oz, baby Jesus! What the hell is happening in Arizona? Why has this not been on the top of any and all news stories? I couldn't believe this story when CNN Headline News showed a preview of this ridiculous law being signed into action. So I stayed on, but had to wade through the Tiger Woods sightings and the story about the d-bag Brett Michael's and his headache. Thanks for prioritizing the news dick heads.

So I'm still sitting here trying to digest what the Governor of Arizona did for her state with the swipe of her pen. Standing at the podium with a stern, but uneasy smirk on her face and surrounded by a backdrop of mostly white men and women. Reading from the teleprompters going back and forth as the crowd jeered her. I wonder if that was the point in which she knew this may not have been a good idea.

Right now there is a sort of balance between what Law Enforcement can and can't do. Laws are in place to protect the people and a good officer knows these laws like the back of their hand, and you never cross the line. By giving the power to violate a person's civil rights on an assumption is tipping the balance, and violates the Federal Laws that trump all other state level laws. So giving the police the right to harass the Latino citizens is idiotic. It will be like throwing gasoline onto a small controllable flame, and will surely blow out of control if it isn't stopped.

Wait...

2010-04-26T22:53:00.000-05:00

The Kills - Wait (live)

Tell me what you've done to yourself
I would like to know
Write it on the rocks and then
Tell me where to go
Why you say wait
Wait
Tell me you're the lucky one
How fast you can throw
Tell me all the things you've done
I would like to know
Why you say wait
Why

Tell me how you like yourself
Tell me how you go
Unlike you were someone else, now
I want to know
Why you say wait
Why you say
Oh wait

La la la la la la la
Why you say
La la la la, la la la la
Why you say wait

La la la la la la la
Why you say
La la la la, la la la la
Why you say wait

So tell me something bad you've done
Tell me bout your ghost
Tell me bout the game you won
And the one who lost
Why you say wait
Wait

Tell me bout your magic touch
Every coin you toss
The cat get out, the dog get in
That's how it's always been
Why you say wait
Why

Now tell me what's so funny, man
Tell me, what'd I miss?
Write it on the rocks and then
Tell me how it is
Why you say wait
Why
Why you say
Oh wait

La la la la la la la
Why you say
La la la la, la la la la
Why you say wait

La la la la la la la
Why you say
La la la la, la la la la
Why you say wait

La la la la la la la
Why you say
La la la la, la la la la
Why you say wait
Why you say

It's not worth saving, when you say wait
Why you say
It's not worth saving, when you say wait
Why you say wait

It's not worth saving, when you say wait
Why you say
It's not worth saving, when you say wait
Why you say wait

Why
Nothing
When you say
Hmm
Nothing

Henry Poole..

2010-04-26T16:17:00.004-05:00

Henry Poole Is Here (2008)

I'm a firm believer, and always have been, that movies can speak to the people in ways that nothing else can. With the proper combination of writers, director, and actors a movie can speak louder that any poem or book can. I watched this movie about a year ago and was touched by the mixture of emotion, comedy, and truth that was conveyed through it. Why this movie never made it to the big screen I can't imagine, but it is a loss for those who have never seen it. This is one of Luke Wilson's best performances playing Henry who wants to fade into the shadows of society and ride out what is left of his life. Through a stain on a wall a list of characters (played by George Lopez, Rahda Mitchell, Cheryl Hines just to name a few) come in and out of his life to show him the error in his plan. If you haven't had the opportunity to watch Henry Poole Is Here, please put this on the list of movies you have to see.

Commercials..

2010-04-25T18:33:00.002-05:00

Today has been a grand day, for I have seen one of the worst television commercials ever made:

.......and one of the very best:

iPod Repeat & Rain..

2010-04-24T19:28:00.003-05:00

The Kills - Monkey 23 (live)

Storms constantly swept through our neck of the woods all day. A constant cool breeze from the storm fronts cooled the house. With it, the rooms filled with that fresh rain smell that only comes in the spring. Thunder rolled around in long, low rumblings as the lighteneing streaked out of the clouds. As I ran an early errand this morning Monkey 23 became a mellow back beat to the weather systems moving around us.

The Bottom..

2010-04-24T14:42:00.000-05:00

Life is starting to get to me. I have never been a fan of optimism, nor would I say I've even bought into the whole half empty, half full debate. I mean, more than likely the glass is half empty. If you think about it the liquid was probably purchased from a vendor of some kind. Therefore you'll almost always be on the short side of the purchase. The house always wins kind of thing.

So the question is what do you do when the path chosen leads to a dead end? Turn around and go back? Not likely. Pray that God helps you out? He's probably not listening. So what do you do then? When all else has failed, and you find yourself standing at a dead end with your hands in your pockets, what do you do?

Unable to concentrate my mind has spun in circles on this subject over the past few months. I can't seem to find a proper route out of this hole I'm sinking into. I've had several back-up plans that have all failed to come to light For one reason or another the plans began to fall out, like dominoes in a row. Always teetering on the verge of falling, and so they fell easily. Old friends and connections have been severed or vanished all together. The brotherhood only lasts for so long I suspect, yet another reason not to trust Company Men.

Now I wake up every morning and shave the stubble from a face I don't recognize anymore. I've aged drastically in the past few months. I've always had a goal. Something that I was driven to accomplish. Now that I have nothing, I feel as though I'm floundering in a current I can't control. Toiling in a job five days a week that I loath beyond comprehension, just to keep the lights on and the water flowing. I wish I could send an email to myself ten years ago warning of the bad decisions I'll be making. Warning myself to do exactly the opposite of what I was planning on doing. All this regret, and not a damn thing to do about it. It's funny how things turn out.

Miracle Drugs..

2010-04-23T08:58:00.005-05:00

I've never been one to use synthetic narcotics, either recreationally or out of necessity. Knowing that the synthetic drugs are way too pure, too well crafted to bond to the body's receptors to make them more efficient can lead to a dependency that's hard to shake off. For this reason alone I stay away from them. Using every other means necessary to combat pain until the pills are what remains as my last resort.

While working for The Company I was privy to a myriad of cases that involved persons with chemical addictions. Synthetic drugs were some of the worst cases to deal with, mostly because pain killers are so perfectly created to bond to the body's receptors and do their job quickly and efficiently. Thus when the user became aware of the sickness, it was too late, and faced a dilemma to either deal with dope sickness, or keep taking the pills. Most chose the pills. I felt sorry for these people. You could see the pain inside them. Like they had been hollowed out by the drugs, and become more of a zombie-like person with one goal; more drugs. To keep the sickness at bay for just a little longer. But it was never long enough.

Some would eat up to 100 Lortab 10's a day, while others chose to crush up Oxycontin and snort them. The worst and most depraved were the ones who turned to spiking pain pills. There was no limits to what drug was used. Tylenol 3's, Lortabs, Vicodin, Zanax, etc. All contain more filler, like wax, than actually narcotic. So the victims would start crushing them up. Mixing them with water and injecting them into the body. The price was heavy when the person chose this route to feed their addiction. The fillers clogged arteries and veins. Transforming the users into a wrinkled, yellowed husk of their former self in a matter of weeks. These were the worst cases to deal with, and have haunted me for years.

So when I do have pain I turn to Motrin or Tylenol.Usually dismissing any offer of narcotics for pain, like I did on Thursday from the dentist. Three days later and the pain is unbearable. Cold packs. Pressure points. Meditation. None of these could pacify the pain throbbing in my jaw. So I reluctantly take a Lortab. Within thirty minutes the pain vanishes. Euphoria sets in. A state of total relaxation washed over me and I can actually eat food without wincing with every bite. It's exciting, but scary at the same time. I know it's not real. Just another blanket to cover up something that will still be there when the medication is filtered out of my bloodstream. I can see how easily, and innocently a nice pill addiction can happen. So I wait in between pain. I wait until a point when the pain is unbearable before taking another. Satisfying my mind that I am the one in control, not the pills. The downside is a mishmash of emotion that leaves me either high or low.

As I sit here typing it's hard to think through the waves of pain. Something that isn't right within. Is the pain real, or is it the body's way of tricking me into taking more? Maybe I'm overly cautious of the whole situation. They teach us that comfort is a main priority with the patients we deal with. That a person cannot get better while dealing with pain. Causing them to lose focus and dwelling on the pain. Maybe it's all bullshit. Rhetoric from the pill companies to promote their addictive products. Maybe I'm just thinking too much. Maybe I should just take the pill.

The Dentist..

2010-04-22T09:19:00.002-05:00

Little Shop of Horrors (1986) - Steve Martin Dentist Song

First off let me tell you that I am terrified of dentists. When I think of them I always think of Steve Martin's character in this movie. So, for the past two days a pesky molar of mine has decided to create enough pain and discomfort that I am actually looking forward to seeing the dentist today. Last night I was up until four in the pacing and eating Motrin and Tylenol like candy, until finally falling to a painful, and fitful sleep. I'm sure my liver is cursing me today. He could give me a knee to the gut as long as he finds the problem and corrects it. Keep your fingers crossed.

Quote of the Day...

2010-04-20T10:37:00.003-05:00

"If the words "life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness" don't include the right to experiment with your own consciousness, then the Declaration of Independence isn't worth the hemp it was written on."
- Terence McKenna quote on Marijuana

Coming Home...

2010-04-20T09:08:00.004-05:00

Upon coming home, unbeknownst to me, I entered an emotional roller coaster into hell, leaving me drained and weakened. I came home thinking the old saying that distance makes the heart grow fonder, but not this time. Apparently God was showing me yet another one of my many flaws and reminded me of my status. All three kids are sick with some form of snotty mess. A was vomiting for the past two days, along with Jack. It was not a good thing to come home to.

Sunday night I returned home from yet another fiasco in my life, just to find myself in another one. After doing baths and putting kids to bed I settled in for a nice night of sleep. No sooner did I close my eyes, Jack started throwing up. After a few hours of this Posey decided to get up and cried for a few hours. Then, just as I thought I could take nothing more, Ele wakes up crying. This went on all night. With maybe a total of three hours of sleep, Monday morning arrived to my dismay.

Monday morning was a blur of screaming, crying, and/or whining that continued on for at least twelve hours. I was amazed at the children's' ability to continue this type of activity for so long. If one was quiet, the other was crying and vice versa. I went into this day with little energy, and it was drained quickly from my body. We both watched the clock and counted down the hours to when the kids would go to bed. This was one of the longest days I could remember my dear reader. I chain smoked cigarettes just to have an excuse to get out of this madhouse that was created. At one point I actually thought that this would never end. That the next eighteen plus years would be a cacophony of screams, fights, and crying. I had found the end of the rope.

By seven that night I was done. Spent. All emotional functions had been wasted, and was in the red. We could take no more without having a total mental and physical collapse of the body system. We needed sleep. As soon as all was quiet in the house my head hit the pillow, and I was out. No dreams that I can recall. Deep sleep that only comes from a need of the body to be recharged. I awoke to silence. Beautiful, blissful silence. This is what I needed.

Scenes...

2010-04-18T21:24:00.006-05:00

Christian Bale - 3:10 to Yuma

I have an odd hobby of collecting scenes of various movies in my head. None are listed from one to ten, but all have a meaning to me, and my life so far. They stay somewhere in my subconscious waiting to be recalled when needed, usually at inopportune times. Last night I watched this scene play out, and was reminded of how some writers, and actors are truly gifted. To tap into so much sadness, pride, and shame all in the same little time frame is remarkable.

Writing this post made me think of another powerful scene....

Edward Norton -The 25th Hour (by Spike Lee)

Another example of great writing and amazing acting. So many things are going on in this scene, that it takes a couple of viewings to really understand what is going on in the character's head. So much repressed anger. So much projection of emotions. Blame. Fear. The sudden realization of all those things are lies, or maybe truth. Maybe both. It's funny that the person who uploaded this to YouTube put in the subject line: race/hate. Why would you post this when you obviously don't understand this scene? Writing it off as an racist rant is an abomination. Spike Lee is the only one who could get away with writing this scene, and Norton is the only one who could convey it properly.

Knowing...

2010-04-17T22:54:00.004-05:00

I know what people mean when they say: "Hind sight is 20/20." I've learned a lot about this phrase over the past few days. Apparently in the past two years I've gotten soft, and let down my guard. Thus allowing myself to make a huge error in judgement when taking a friend that I've only known in class. You can see where this is heading. It's funny when you plan a trip such as this, and find out your choice in travel partner was clearly in error.

During the extremely long six hour drive to the outskirts of the Windy City, I heard nothing but relationship stories concerning his girlfriend of four long months. It was a sad story, told in a manner that reminded me of the days of high school working out the teenage relationship bullshit. He allowed me to be privy to this sad display of manipulation, emotional co-dependence, and plain cowardice.

After the first hour I knew I had made a huge mistake. I started imagining GOB from Arrested Development saying this over and over again. First off he tells me that he used to be an alcoholic, but not anymore. This was a red flag my dear reader. The next was a roller coaster ride of emotion hell that I endured. She sent text messages to him every few minutes attempting to start fights on various topics, which he would tell me about. When we arrived in Chicago he announced that he was just going to break up with her. By this point after having listened to five hours of this, I finally spoke my mind. I stated that if he broke up with her, (via text was his master plan my dear reader), it would most assuredly ruin a potentially good time. I'd rather listen to you bitch about her like a pussy (yeah, I said that) and try to have a good time, instead of having to deal with you moping around and basically ruining this event for us because you broke up with her. After about 30 seconds of leaving that out in the air between us he said, "Yeah. That's probably not a good idea." No shit?

My guest proceeded to astound me by drinking large quantities of vodka in short periods of time. Never giving himself time to taste the drink, he simply chugged them down in two or three gulps. He is the very definition of functional alcoholic. Thus he provided me with yet another effed up situation to deal with. As he pounded the liquor he would start talking about bars, strip clubs, and his girlfriend and their fucked up little arrangement. I had to constantly remind him that neither of us had money for any of those shenanigans, and he needs to bring his voice down, which was nearly a yell-type slur of words puked into the room. I was instantly pissed. I was getting away to relax, and have a grand old time. Not babysit a d-bag mooch with obvious substance abuse, and emotional issues.

At C2E2 we ran into a friend of his that promised to get us into the "good stuff" due to his connections in the industry being and comic book inker (the only word I could think of....sorry). We received a call that he had arrived and was getting through the ticket line, but to meet him at the Marvel Comic area. An hour of standing in the Marvel area went by. I was getting pissed, and decided to veer off course of the mission and grab a few coffin nails outside and relax. Obviously the "hook-up guy" was lost. After about 20 minutes we headed back inside and ran into the guy waiting in line to get a hotdog. A long line in which he stood at the halfway point. Apparently he had registered and, since his belly was a rumblin', he decided to get a Chicago style dog that the other 50 people in line were craving as well. And in doing so he totally dismissed us in the process, without even an inkling of an apology of any kind. I choked back some harsh words and held my tongue only because this was my guest' best friend.

To sum it up so far, I would call it a bust. A disappointing alternative to what could have been an excellent weekend in Chicago. There was fun to be had, but the entirety of the event was lost solely on this d-bag I brought along. All I can say is that it is now 8:30pm on a Saturday night. My bags are packed. I'm ready to go.

The City....

2010-04-17T00:12:00.010-05:00

I can't help but be drawn into the heart of a large, metropolis type city. Becoming totally engulfed in its horrible beauty. The wondrous engineering of modern man have truly made their mark here, in the Windy City. Their marvels climb high into the air nearly blotting out the sun except for the one time each day depending on their location. It's almost a shock to my internal clock; being used to sunlight nearly all day. Truly, it is a different world here.

I can't help but be the "wide-eyed gawker" as I bounce around the city in back of a cab. A cab driven by men who probably understand me as much as I under stand them. It's almost like an amusement park ride of sorts. Flying at speed through tight city streets, weaving in and out of traffic and/or pedestrian lanes was the biggest thrill. At first, with one who is not familiar with taxis, you stare at the padding around the cage and wonder, "Why so much padding?" Within the next few minutes your question is answered as you are jerked wildly about in the backseat. Yet throughout it all I'm staring out the window. Wide-eyed. Mesmerized by the hustle and bustle of it all. Life. Life in another dimension.

As we walk down the sidewalks my eyes are always draw upward. Upward towards the towering buildings of various shapes and sizes. Glowing nearly as much in the day as they do at night. The constant flow of pedestrians going to and from various places is never ending. Horns honking. Brakes screeching in concert with with whistles blaring, and the chatter from the flow of people. All of this added to my surreal view of my surroundings; like being in a dream and yet knowing full well it's not. Like visiting and alien planet it feels like a bizzaro type world I've only seen on television. The power of feeling out of place is strong. Like the Sesame Street "One of the Things is Not Like the Other One" type feel.

Why would anyone want to be in a place such as this? The constant noise, and movement can be overwhelming, but for everything I've written, all would be the reason to live here. To live in the city until it becomes normal. Until the dreaminess of it all fades, and it all becomes normal again. Desensitization of your surroundings is an inevitable occurrence, but when it happens, it just means it's time to move on......Again.

Kick-Ass Disappointment....

2010-04-16T00:32:00.004-05:00

I went into the Kick-Ass premier full of hope in anticipation of a sweet movie. Alas, I was wrong. The main characters were disappointing. Way too lame to ever be able to pull off the heroes and love interests. The guy who played Kick-Ass was annoying and his voice was like listening to a record on a speed way too slow. His friends were too emo-gay for me to even appreciate their comedic value.

On the other hand, the character Hit Girl was simply amazing. She single handedly stole the movie. There is nothing like seeing a twelve year old girl slicing off limbs, calling people cunts, and basically kicking every one's ass.

Afterwards a night of drinking and laughter at the karaoke bar attached to our hotel left me laughing, and my head hurting from the various drunkards belting out the songs. Now, it's time for sleep and preparation of C2E2 tomorrow.

Chicago...

2010-04-15T15:10:00.003-05:00

ZB and friend have arrived in Chicago unscathed and right on schedule. Time for the fun to begin with attending the Kick-Ass premier tonight. Strong drink to follow, and C2E2 starting at 1pm tomorrow. Cannot fucking wait my dear read...cannot wait.

Hobbies..

2010-04-12T21:01:00.005-05:00

About seven years ago I was stricken with the realization that I had no idea why there was so much animosity between Americans and Muslims. I mean, there had to be a point that sparked the flame. Right? I needed to know what started it all. Thus, a long road of reading, and documentaries became my favorite pastime.

The war was just getting started. The news was awash with stories from the front lines. While the news channels flooded the televisions with video of guns firing, and bombs dropping I became tired of the lack of depth int he coverage. Other than body counts the news was failing to explain why. Soon the History channel played a documentary titled The Crusades by Terry Jones (of Monty Python), and I was instantly hooked.

I started with baby steps picking my first book to be The Crusades for Dummies. Yeah, I bought that book and read it. A tad embarrassing, but it jump started my collection. I started with a book that covered the history of all seven (when they finally stopped counting), then more specifically to the first four crusades. I stopped at the fourth simply because the true nature of Crusading became perverted by greed and lust, even more than the first one. I read books about the Spanish Crusades and the exploits of El Cid, and how he assisted in reclaiming Spain from the Muslims. The books continuously came in the mail from various Internet companies. I lost count at 35, and now there is a large bookcase that houses the books; mostly overflowing on top of the unit, and beneath it.

I made notes in the margins and double checked accounts by different authors in an attempt to find out the why. Everything I read seemed to be too one-sided. An obvious bias was starting to seep through. Almost all told from the Christian point of view, and that was a fatal flaw in my quest. So I found a book that covered the loss of Jerusalem and eventual reconquest by the Muslim people; all written by a Muslim poet. If anyone has ever read ancient Arabic text translated into English, you know how painful it truly was. Too many formalities and customs unfamiliar to me kept me reading, and re-reading passages just to understand them. It took me several months to read a relatively small book, but I finished it and found answers. Just not what I was looking for.

What I learned from all the reading, and time spent taking notes: 1) Religious propaganda is a powerful tool, and always will be. The opiate of the masses is as true today as it was a few thousand years ago. 2) King Richard was a total badass. His exploits were the few that matched from both sides. If greed had not gotten int he way of Richard, he would have not only reclaimed Jerusalem for the Christians, but Egypt as well. 3) A lot of evil was done in the name of God on both sides, and yet, a lot of good was accomplished by both. 4) I still have no idea what ground zero was that started it all, but I do know it will never stop.

My studies are focused more on the military orders during the Crusades. The Hospitalliers are what I mainly study now. Out of all the Christians who fought and killed in the name of God, they truly were there to help the poor and invalid of all faiths, even if Christian historians deny this. Warrior monks living by the strict code of monastery life, yet being the equivalent of today's Special Forces soldier. They helped first and fought second.

It all reminds me of a quote from the movie Angel Heart when Satan said, "There's just enough religion in the world to make men hate one another, but not enough to make them love." Simple and true.

Oh, By the Way..

2010-04-11T10:53:00.002-05:00

....C2E2 in three days and the itinerary keeps getting bigger! Tickets to April 15th movie premier for Kick-Ass being won by your only ZB, then down to Mother's to mingle with fellow nerds. Drinking and playing Rock Band while finally being able to discuss the intricacies of the Star Wars universe without shame. Without fear of being judged by our coworkers, friends, and family...... You know you're jealous.

Movie Time..

2010-04-11T10:22:00.003-05:00

I finally got a chance to watch the movie 9 the other night and was totally blown away by it. I know, yet another Burton-esq animated movie portraying the dark sins of mankind and its ultimate destruction. Yeah, I loved it.

After watching the short film, by Shane Acker, I knew it was going to be amazing. The animation was spot on and thoroughly explained the almost impossibility of these characters. The story of course sucked me in. Bravery overcoming fear. Sacrifice of one for many. Love. Hate. The all too familiar tale of man kinds greed and lust finally turning against them, and ultimately destroying each other. The characters are diversely played by the actors (Elijah Wood, John C. Reilly, Jennifer Connelly, Crispin Glover), and convey such emotion when combined with this excellent animation. Watching both flaws and feats of one man's soul attempting to atone for his sins

If you haven't seen this yet, then today is a good day to remedy that.

3 Part Fuck You.....

2010-04-09T23:00:00.007-05:00

Tosh.0

Flower Shop

http://www.comedycentral.com/

Web Redemption

2 Girls, 1 Cup Reaction

Demi Moore Picture

The Flower Shop pt. 1 - David Koechner

I watched all four installments of these by Koechner and all are equally funny. This one stood out for me and kept me laughing, not because I think this towards my wife and her family....well definitely not my wife.....probably her family though. Nothing better than laughing at a disgruntled husband. Enjoy.

iPod Repeat..

2010-04-09T22:34:00.003-05:00

The White Stripes - Sister, Do You Know My Name (live)

I've been listening to these albums by The White Stripes for many years over, and over again. Either in my head at work, home, or while in the car, they will invade my mind and set up shop. This song has been there all day helping me get through the hours that seem to drag on and on. It reminds me of young grade school crushes on those girls too beautiful too to even speak a word to. The old iPod has been good to ZB the past few days since its awakening. Good job Bob.....good job.

...and I found this fucking awesome performance of Fell In Love With a Girl from when they sang on Letterman. Amazing.

The White Stripes - Fell In Love With A Girl (live)

iPod Repeat...

2010-04-08T18:18:00.002-05:00

Blind Melon f/ Jena Kraus - Mouth Full of Cavities

I guess The Baby Jesus decided to raise my iPod back from the dead. The battery is fried, but works with the car/radio thing. Upon selecting shuffle this was song was the first one to come on. So haunting. So beautiful.

Lately...

2010-04-07T14:25:00.003-05:00

I've been having this feeling as of late that something isn't right. Knowing exactly what that "something" is, or what "right" entails, is a mystery. This feeling is something primal deep within me. Energies aren't flowing correctly, or maybe the balance is off somewhere. Obviously I couldn't get any more vague, but how do you explain a feeling when you don't know the question?

As my serotonin has slowly started to balance itself out I feel normal again. Like a haze in my mind is clearing away leaving me with a bright new window to peer out of. Now I've started getting a feeling that is keeping me on edge. Transforming my dreams into nights filled with worry and the fear. Leaving my days working in a drowsy fog that extends minutes into hours, hours into days, etc.

Maybe it's just the reality of my situation setting in on me. Nothing seems to be working out as I planned. I'm tired of going to a class that I passed with and A, but failed due to one test. I just can't get over it. Even if I pass it I will still have 1.5 years of class just to be an LPN, all the while not having the financial aide and grants we depended on to live. The fear of failure has been planted inside me, and I can't shake it.

Now I look into the future in days rather than years. No hope of building the house we wanted. No hope of family vacations to overly priced animated parks. Nothing. All the applications I've sent out for jobs have come up with nothing. Not even a call, email, or interview. Even though all of this is wearing me down I still have that feeling of the balance being off. That something doesn't feel right. Something.

Something.......not right.

Dreams...

2010-04-06T06:35:00.007-05:00

A strange night of active dreaming filled my R.E.M. cycle, leaving me disoriented and confused upon my awakening. Wondering if what just occurred in my head was a dream or a glimpse into the future. Either way I awoke exhausted. Of all my favored dreams the one I dream of the least is the one that scares me the most. Zombies.

The beginning of the tale, conjured by my warped mind, was one of personal tragedy combined with my innate, fatal flaw to help others. A dream so real and vivid left me with a feeling that it was reality. Rarely, as I dream, do I actually believe what is taking place. Usually I know it's a dream and roll with it. Not this one.

Life, human society built by machines and electricity fueled by limited resources, all failed. Leaving what was left in the world in total chaos and darkness. Mankind's fatal flaw was creating a flawed society for which to depend on. Blinded by pride. Now being slowly taken over by a disease reanimating the dead, and changing the living, into horrible monsters driven by an insatiable hunger for living flesh. Nothing living survived as the hordes swept across the country.

A, along with Ele and Posey, were gone for the day leaving Jack and I alone when the attack came. Swift and sudden. Leaving me with the choice of killing a turned child or fleeing to look for the rest of my family. I chose the ladder. Driven by a need to find security within my family I was driven to avoid most of the living that was left in the wake of horror.

Following an unknown path towards what I believed to be the rest of my family, located in an unnamed area. The fear inside was overwhelming. Fear that I would lose control and cowardly seek safe haven for myself. I fought it. As I journeyed I would find another survivor to help, but all the while cursing myself for not being able to tell them to fuck off. We kept going to places like hospitals, police stations, and a shopping centers, all the places that you shouldn't go to during a zombie invasion. Or what the movies have shown us doesn't work. Guns fired by the unknown survivors provided a steady flow of undead to deal with. Constantly on the run from the unspeakable. Constantly looking for a way to break free of my burden to continue my quest. Yelling orders was a futile effort for the fear had taken hold in the others and panic set it. Panic fueling my fear. Fear of failing to find my family.

Nothing..