Once for Christmas I received two cds that were exactly the same: The Last Hours of the People's Temple. The cd cover contains a pastiche of the carnage in Guyana, a smiling Jim Jones looking half-looped, and a few shots of children singing. These aren't widely sold at Wal-Mart -- both of my friends had taken considerable trouble to procure them off the internet. To make matters worse, I received them at the same party, rendering me unable to lie about the unique nature of the gift. But I swore up and down that I needed two copies, I mean who the hell doesn't, and promptly put one in the mail to my old buddy Hank so he too could enjoy the bad contemporary Christian music followed by rambling speeches of Mr. Jones, and the begging of several of the brighter bulbs in the congregation who realized that drinking poisoned Flavor-Aid in the jungle was going to end up being a real fuckstick. Is there any way we can make it less bitter? one parishioner asks.
And so it goes. The question is answered literally -- No, we've used up all the sugar. As I cleaned up after the Christmas party late into the night, I thought about my gifts, one of which was playing on the stereo. So much starts out in promise and ends in the abyss. Nothing gives me the chills more than to hear my own voice say, I've got an idea. Eyes gleaming, I look toward the promised land. More often what I don't realize is that I'm going to have to crawl over broken glass to get there.
Michelle's Spell of the Day
"I looked at what I wanted and I looked at what I had. There was a great gulf between the two of them." Larry Brown
Cocktail Hour
Drinking nonfiction suggestion: A Decade of Curious People and Dangerous Ideas Chuck Klosterman
Benedictions and Maledictions
Happy Monday!
9 comments:
I get that same gleam in my eye when I'm gambling. Unfortunately, my luck hasn't been to0 good lately, as you can tell from yesterday's episode of the Sopranos. Yet, it's better than my son's. He lost his fiancee. And it's better than Hesh Rabkin's. He lost his black goomar, Renata. I felt so bad for Hesh that I paid him the 200 grand I owed. I guess all losses are relative. Thanks for your support, Michelle.--Tony
I keep crawling through that broken glass, too. I'm looking for a way to make it all less bitter, and yet remember the horrors carried by that taste. To have heaven's blessings and hell's laments all penned in the same notebook--written in my own blood to save the blood of another.
classic pic
Thirty-four more days until the last day of the Sopranos!
Maybe the only words scarier than "I've got an idea" are "I believe..."
ideas are better than beliefs... an idea can change... for a belief it is much harder and people usually die for it.
I never think so I never have ideas that I believe in but I have great strong beliefs that I have crawled through many a mile of broken glass to come to.
Which has led to the promised land of great faith,strengthand ability. Yes keep on walking to somewhere or other but fuck that crawling shit; it's to hard on the fucking knees.
Personally even though I am facing three maybe four personal fucksticks with no sugar or lube I have no thoughts and more importantly no care about them because I have reached the promised land of knowing I need not be concerned with any out come because whatever it is , it will be the one that is on my road and it will be the right one.
Jim Jones is like Elvis I guess the bastard will never really die, one for his voice and music and rock and rolling hips and the other because so many people were fooled into thinking the promised land is a place outside of the spirit, rather than within themselves by that wad of cum.
Where is this abyss I'd like to find it to see if I am in it and never got out of it or have I never been toe to the edge with it, fuck that too because either way it is where I am and it is where I belong and that offers me contentment as long as I look at the peace as a reality and not an idea.
and one question ..is there any good contemporary Christian music?
Your ideas are scary only because how easy it is for them to become reality for you. At least that's how they seem to work out on glowing paper. And that's considering that you have many stories we don't get to see.
And if my good ideas were your bad ideas I wouldn't resort to badabing-tired, cliche ridden sentences like this one to express the notion.
But I don't let that stop me, no ma'am.
Why?
Cause I'm a hunka-hunka burnin' love.
That's why.
TCB with a flash.
I believe in you and your ideas. But I say this a lot, in may ways. Mostly by reading them to myself. Thanks for being a great sharer. And I've read this one four times, I ought to be able to comment as much as I want to.
Hey are you a professional journalist? This article is very well written, as compared to most other blogs i saw today….
anyhow thanks for the good read!
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