01.26.09
Just Curious
Do you think that as we get older and start storing more information in our brains, useless or otherwise, our heads get heavier? It would explain all of this neck pain I’ve been having.
01.24.09
Round One: 2009
I have nothing cryptic enough for this entry. You’ll just have to trust me. It’s all in this little book here. Well, not all of it. The rest is in my head. Some of it is inside my guitar, but the only way to get it out is to play the proper chords. I don’t know what they are yet. Thus, if I seem cryptic at all, you surely understand why.
01.14.09
KnockKnockWho’sThereNoOneAhhh!!!
I’m not sure that this explains why I talk to myself, but it sure is an interesting study.
I was going to tell you a bit about how I feel today, then I considered writing some poetry for you, and now I’m throwing in the towel altogether. If you don’t have something nice to say, best to say nothing at all. Have a happy day. We’ll talk soon.
05.30.08
I’ve Been In This Business Too Long Already
I was just going onto Yahoo! Hotjobs to check some of our postings, when I accidentally typed in “hotmobs”. It dawned on me that this would be an excellent marketing tool for the ailing mafias of the world. Don’t ask me how the upkeep works; no doubt a civilian owes a mafioso a favor, is enlisted to start up the site, maintain it, keep it updated with all of the most current mob happenings, who’s moving up in the world, who probably has a contract on him, etc. The problem I see with this is that the up-and-comings will want the good publicity. They’ll threaten or kill the civilian – even though he’s a civilian — and then they’ll enlist their own, but the family that was attacked will probably strike back…Okay, this whole thing might get a little messy. But isn’t that what internet advertising is all about? And it just so happens I know the perfect company to serve ad campaigns to keep traffic coming through…
04.07.08
Putting the “God” in Godfather
“‘Do not impede his journey fate-ordained;
It is so willed there where is power to do
That which is willed; and ask no further question.’”~Dante Alghieri, Inferno
I am regularly moved by the story of Don Corleone, a fictional tale depicted in Mario Puzo’s The Godfather, notably made into an extraordinary triology in the early 1970s and into 1990. There is a subtlty to the story, though, which sets it apart from other gangster movies and it is the same subtlty that draws me to close to the rise and fall of Michael Corleone. You see, it wasn’t for power or for money that the Corleone empire existed; those were incidental bi-products, though they led to much strife and indirectly to the end of the era, so to speak. But those things never interested Michael Corleone. He had only one thing in mind, one driving motive to take the things he wanted from life, by force, if necessary: his family.
But what intrigues me most about Michael Corleone is not even his love for his family or his willingness to do anything to protect them. No, my interest is most piqued, my heart most moved at the end of The Godfather: Part III on the steps of the opera house. (Spoiler: you should have seen the movie by now anyway.) As Michael lay there next to his murdered daughter, in such agony that surprises even his ex-wife, I remembered something he said to her earlier in the movie.
“I loved my father. I swore I would never be a man like him, but I loved my father and he was in danger. What could I do? And then later, you were in danger. Our children were in danger. What could I do? You were all that I loved and valued most in the world. Now I’m losing you. I lost you. You’re gone. And it was all for nothing…You have to understand, I had a whole different destiny planned.”
Michael Corleone made sacrifices — horrible sacrifices that dramatically affected, sometimes even eliminated, the lives of those around him — and he did it for his family. The fullness of his love for them caused him to take the world into his own hands, to plan out his own destiny. I think there are few among us who do not, at some level, do the same.
The humanity in Michael Corleone, however, does not stop at his tightening his grip on the world he refuses to let slip through his fingers. It comes from the fact that it slips through anyway. It leaves the question for all of us, what, if anything, can we control in the first place? After a life time of murder in the name of protection, Don Corleone learns the hard way, as many of us do, that there are very few things under our command.
We heard a bit about predestination in church today taking the following into consideration:
1:5 he predestined us [2] for adoption as sons through Jesus Christ, according to the purpose of his will,
~Ephesians 1:5
Notwithstanding the ins and the outs of it, our destinies are predetermined. Where does that leave us? With such power as given by God, with the ability to manipulate these letters to form words, with the authority to choose what I eat for dinner or where I take my rest and even whether or not to sin, to rebel against the Highest Power of all, the idea that anything is out of our control is difficult to wrestle with. How, then, are we to cope when things are going exactly the opposite of the way we would like?
The answer rests in trust. We must trust God in all things. We must let Him guide us, bringing us to places we sometimes don’t want to go, places that sometimes don’t seem like places He would send us in the first place. There is no way to know for sure if we’ve done what we’re supposed to, but then we ought also to recognize that He has been following all along. This theme repeats itself countless time throughout the Bible, travesty after travesty of things that are terrible, and yet are righted by God. Of course, such faith can be difficult to have. Indeed, I often find myself saying, “I believe in God, I believe in Jesus and the salvation He offers, but how am I to believe that my life here on Earth will improve? What right to it do I have?” Well, I have no right. But somehow, the gift is there, anyway, if only I would believe.
For Michael Corleone, he didn’t have to order deaths or run rackets to protect his family. I think he learns that in the end. In fact, I think he learns it before the end, but doesn’t know how to get out. He tries, but it’s too late, at least for his family. But there is one comfort that even the Don can take: It’s never too late to trust in Jesus.
04.01.08
Never Know Until You Try
23 And he took the blind man by the hand and led him out of the village, and when he had spit on his eyes and laid his hands on him, he asked him, “Do you see anything?” 24 And he looked up and said, “I see men, but they look like trees, walking.” 25 Then Jesus [3] laid his hands on his eyes again; and he opened his eyes, his sight was restored, and he saw everything clearly.
~Mark 8:23-25
I was sitting here listening to Animal Collective’s Sung Tongs (courtesy of Tony L.) for the first time. Actually, I was in the kitchen, which is right across from where I’m sitting. But that’s not the point. The point is, I started hearing noises, some like lowing, some like birds, and still others like voices, distant, close, old, and new. All of these sounds were coming in over percussion and a strummed instrument of some sort, probably a guitar. It all mixed and blended together to make this hypnotic, transient sort of…noise. Five years ago, I would have said it sucked. But I’ve learned something since then. I’ve learned that at first, sometimes, things feel really, really weird. The temptation is to turn away from the activity. But in those times, I’ve also learned that it can be a good idea to see the activity through to the end. You may find yourself settling into it more than you’d imagined.
And don’t give me any lip about the pleasure in sin. That’s obviously not what I’m talking about here.
08.28.07
1 Samuel 3:4-10
3:4 Then the Lord called Samuel, and he said, “Here I am!” 5 and ran to Eli and said, “Here I am, for you called me.” But he said, “I did not call; lie down again.” So he went and lay down.
6 And the Lord called again, “Samuel!” and Samuel arose and went to Eli and said, “Here I am, for you called me.” But he said, “I did not call, my son; lie down again.” 7 Now Samuel did not yet know the Lord, and the word of the Lord had not yet been revealed to him.
8 And the Lord called Samuel again the third time. And he arose and went to Eli and said, “Here I am, for you called me.” Then Eli perceived that the Lord was calling the young man. 9 Therefore Eli said to Samuel, “Go, lie down, and if he calls you, you shall say, ‘Speak, Lord, for your servant hears.’” So Samuel went and lay down in his place.
10 And the Lord came and stood, calling as at other times, “Samuel! Samuel!” And Samuel said, “Speak, for your servant hears.”
I was tickled by an image of God standing there, tapping His foot, calling to a particularly dense young man, trying to get his attention. Interesting, isn’t it, how the Lord does not give up on our willingness to be oblivious? He just keeps standing there, calling our names until we reply…
07.30.07
Reason For Concern
This is taken directly from Movietickets.com, advertising Broken English:
MPAA RATING:(PG-13), for some sexual content, nudity, some violence including rape, language and drug use
I think it’s time we re-evaluate the rating system…
04.24.07
Bloody Monday
I went to the NYU School of Dentistry for my follow-up visit yesterday. I asked if the hygienist was going to use the probe thingy again and she assured me no. What she failed to mention was the sharper, more damaging instrument she was going to use instead. For one hour my teeth were prodded and dug at so that I felt like she was actually trying to rip them from my skull rather than simply clean the junk from in between them. The coppery smell of blood began to rise up under my nose as she reached for a dry wad of gauze to sop up her handywork. I begged to rinse and I spit out a mouthful of red which wouldn’t wash down the sink without being coaxed. I used Listerine and still couldn’t get that metallic taste to go away. The hygienist’s gloves were covered in blood. I remembered working in the operating room and the brown, cracked film of blood that would cover their gloves at the end of an operation. Then I remembered I wasn’t in an OR. I wasn’t even being operated on.
She finally asked if I wanted an anesthetic. I suggested that if she just continued at her present pace, I’d pass out naturally. She did, I didn’t. So I prayed. I prayed for the next hour, through flossing, polishing, follow up examination by a dentist, and the taking of dental impressions. She says I’ll do better next time if I start flossing.
I stand by my statement made at the ripe old age of twelve: Dentistry continues to be the only legal form of Sadism in American culture. We should do something about it.
04.20.07
Good Morning, Springtime
We’re finally having some nice weather here in the city. I say this with slight hesitation since we never really had much of a winter and I probably shouldn’t be complaining. I guess that I, like most New Yorkers, would just as soon prefer a moderately tropical climate as opposed to the changing seasons of the year. Sure, the city under snow is pretty but I feel like we’ve got enough technology to make that happen once a year, right? Of course we do. Down with nor’easters. You heard it here first.
I completely forgot to tell you that the other day I rode in the front car of the L train and watched outof the window as we approached Union Square from Sixth Avenue. If you haven’t done it, you should. It’s epic.
I watched The Birds last night and had mixed feelings. I love Alfred Hitchcock and I have no qualms about the direction. I’m just not sure how I felt about the film. (Spoiler starts here) When he comes out of the house at the end and all of those birds are all over the place, I’m expecting something big to happen. Now I can appreciate the Euro-style of no resolution but what I don’t like is the build-up with no resolution. It’s like when you start to sneeze and you wait for it, wait for it, WAIT FOR IT, and then…nothing. Nothing at all. And it’s disappointing. So when nothing at all happens and Mitch loads the women into the car and they drive off to the quickening caws of crows and gulls and then credits roll you don’t find yourself in a reflective state like “Wow, what a work of art” or “Wow, what a great film, the end really leaves you thinking”. Instead you find yourself thinking, “Is it too late for another glass of port”. In fairness, though, Jessica Tandy was hot. No, seriously.