Furibundum

This one is for Cris (deuxième), and for myself as well. I had a dream last night ... one of those vivid, life-rewound varieties of dreams, affective and not easily shaken. Love you, and still sorry. What have I done? Where have I come from? When I burnt the backs with the sun through a glass did I seal the loss that's become me? Feeling undone, what have I become? When I turned my back on you I turned my back on myself and became this machine. Thoughtlessness, selfishness, hopelessness, arrogant. I feel it on the inside, twisting and contorting. Memory has shaped me once again. Still feel you on the inside, biting through and stinging. Will I ever forget to remember? Shadows in the sun filter through us. Still wrestle the demons that arrested me as a child, confession rejected. We grow up to give up. People step on the cracks for wounds owed paid back through the words of surrender. Emptiness, loneliness, listlessness, worthless. Can you save me from myself, from these memories? S

I'm not the biggest Hillary fan, and in fact she has progressively drifted further from my good graces as this seemingly eternal campaign season draws out. Nonetheless, I'll confess to being more than just a bit baffled by all of the flap she's met with since recollecting last week her and Chels's 1996 trip to war-ravaged Bosnia , with all that de-planing sniper fire and such. I mean, come on ... I may not be a supporter but who, right in the head, would for a moment believe that someone like Hillary would stoop to conjuring up such a " whopper " for political gain? Her irrefutable integrity aside, how could anyone possibly think that she would be so foolish as to ever consider making up such stories that could be so readily disproved? Of course, they tried to sully her reputation, running video footage of a "seemingly" most normal, sniper-free de-planing with what one might even consider to be a ceremonious welcoming. A perfect example of right-wi

America's undeniable success in Iraq, according to our most highly esteemed commander, has been well worth the "sacrifice" of this country's to-date 4,000 cammie-clad corpses . Nearly all , by the way, sacrificed post-May 2003 when we reckoned the mission officially accomplished . If this is success, may we never know failure, that's all I'm sayin'. Lest we forget, though, dead Iraqis still top the leaderboard at a whopping 90,000 . Given another hundred years or so , we might still stand a chance (in Hell) of catching up. Talk about success!

This quite clearly is no ordinary, run of the General Mill variety corn flake! Nosiree Bob! This, my friends, can be considered nothing short of cereal phenomena. The resemblance is uncanny indeed. (Squint if you must, and feel free to stretch your imagination. See it? Okay, give it some time. Just trust me on this one.) Box of corn flakes ... $3.99 (prices may vary). State of Illinois rendered à la Kellogg toasted grain ... priceless $1,350.00. So deemed Monty Kerr. SOLD! To the second biggest Texan idiot . Seriously, folks, you can't make this shit up. Two sisters from Virginia sold their Illinois-shaped corn flake on eBay Friday night for $1,350. "We were biting our nails all the way up to the finish, seeing what would happen," said Melissa McIntire, 23. "There's a lot of relief involved." True story . Auction winner Monty (which disturbingly points toward other like-minded bandwidth-wasting short bus riders), runs a trivia website with the amusingly ir

Joe South, that is. Per Wikipedia this song, Games People Play , is a protest song against assorted varieties of hate, inhumanity and intolerance both interpersonal and social. " The central theme of the song is that, it is we who are responsible for our humanitarian actions or inaction. It is each of us who needs say what we mean and mean what we say. The song seeks to show us that we adults play with human decency as if it were a game ." Sad truth, ain't it? Some things never change. Sadder still, I actually remember from the song's Grammy award-winning heyday. Yikes.

Fifth anniversary? Oh yeah, that. Slipped my mind for a sec. Sorry. Slap me silly. Certainly, we sissy boys sometimes screw up, alternative selfish priorities and such. So sue us. Sad such scuffle, I'm sure. Must suck. The suffering, the sacrifice ... (sigh.) Still, all things considered, we're still super, thanks for asking. Sing it, Big Gay Al , sir!

Last night's post was merely an old article from my previous blog -- revisited, reviewed, re-edited, revised, re-linked and republished. That's the downside of blogging, at least for me. Sometimes I literally cringe when critiquing old posts ... what was I thinking? Where the hell did that come from? Was I on drugs at the time? WTF? I often want a do-over. Meaningless post that one, I know, but a story that I recall finding amusing at the time, and a post that I remember finding quite enjoyable to write. Fast forward a few months, and forcing myself to deconstruct previous work, I decided to put this particular post under the knife for some nip and tuck. Just a self-assignment, really, to go back in time and make over what was no longer pleasing. No plans for a re-release whatsoever, just a simple writing exercise. Well, I certainly won't be doing that in the future, I'll tell you that right now. "What's done is done" is my new maxim going forward.

Long before Betsy Ross scissor-snipped her first star or stitched her first stripe, young America had experimented with various and sundry banners to magnificently represent its new-found independence! Some of the contestants should have, without question, been voted off early in the competition. The well-known Navy Jack was no doubt an early elimination. DONT TREAD ON ME. An unfortunate punctuation faux pas. If they had only had spell-check back in the day, the guy may have had a chance to make it into the finals. Damned apostrophes! Betsy was voted through, wisely avoiding text, to beat the competition. Stars and stripes forever! So after the drumroll, confetti, hugs, tears, and no doubt much flag-waving, we had our winner. Who knew that 230-plus years later her winning design would still be flying high (albeit a bit starrier)? A long-standing, award-winning design like that certainly warrants respect, of course, and ought not be taken lightly. It is a symbol, after all, of our free

Parroting Ms. Berger, "If you can't trust your shadowy overlords to keep a secret, what is the purpose, really, of voting in a public democracy?" White House Wars , season 56 finale revealed !!

OK, since we've been officially outed, I'll simply come clean. Yes, we really do have an agenda. It's true. Oklahoma's State Representative Sally Kern (elected Republican ... scary) has apparently figured us out , uncovered our strategy of corruption, ploys to spread ungodly gayocracy all throughout civilized society. Her entire transcripted exposé following the post. Firstly, though, allow me to validate a few of her key points made. We, the few who have somehow managed to keep in check our inherent suicidal tendencies, do in fact strive to completely obliterate society (studies show it can be done!) We have by now succeeded in becoming more menacing to this righteous nation than even the most fervent of terrorists (aka Muslims.) We have begun expansion of our recruitment program by seeking out toddlers (the "terrible twos" are particularly quick studies) explaining that, despite propoganda to the contrary, the parts really do fit. Having no personal politic

I'm here, I'm queer, get used to it. Or don't. Suit yourself. I most assuredly am not à la flaming poofter mode (not that there's anything wrong with that ... classic quotable Seinfeld ), that's just not me. Sorry to disappoint, sister-brothers, but, alas, it's true: I'm a gearheaded, power tool lovin', gritty fingernailed kind of a guy. Jeans and t-shirts for me, please. Unlike some purported "straight-acting" 'mos profiled on sundry M4M online hook-up sites, I'm the real deal. An alternative alternative lifestyle, I suppose. Uncommon, perhaps, but there are some of us out there. We really do exist. Believe it or not, though, I have on more than one occasion been ostracized by my own people for not being "gay enough." Just this afternoon, in fact, by a former co-worker. I would have slapped the pole-smoking ass-bandit, but apparently my wrists aren't quite limp enough. Stupid bitch. Whatever. To most I may seem to be mor

Putting in order my private library this evening (okay, I was dusting off my long neglected and decades-old collection of paperbacks) I happened across a particularly well-worn copy of The Book of Questions , by Gregory Stock. I frankly had not remembered this book, despite the split spine and loads of dog-eared pages. A quick browse through, though, jogged my memory as to why my seeming past obsession. This one without doubt certainly puts to task one's noggin. What would you do? "You are leading 100 people whose lives are in danger and you must choose between two courses of action. One would save only 90 people; the other would have a 50 percent chance of saving everyone but were it to fail everyone would die. Which would you choose?" My brain hurts just mulling over such things. I think I'd personally rather slam a Slurpee. Anyway, then there's part deux: "What if you had to choose the 10 people who would die? Would you rather have someone else in the grou

ed kowalczyk and live . white, discussion. one of their many greats, one my favorites. from throwing copper , 1994. i talk of freedom you talk of the flag i talk of revolution you'd much rather brag and as the decibels of this disenchanting discourse continue to dampen the day the coin flips again, and again, and again, and again as our sanity walks away all this discussion though politically correct is dead beyond destruction though it leaves me quite erect and as the final sunset rolls behind the earth and the clock is finally dead i'll look at you, you'll look at me and we'll cry a lot but this will be what we said this will be what we said: "look where all this talking got us, baby."

STATE OF TEXAS OFFICE OF THE GOVERNOR GEORGE W. BUSH GOVERNOR MEMORANDUM TO: Hard Working Staff Members FROM: Governor DATE: April 3, 1995 I thought I would share with you a recent bit of Texas history which epitomizes our mission. My very close personal friend from Midland, Joe. J. O'Neill, III, recently loaned me a portrait entitled "A Charge to Keep" by W.H.D. Koerner. This beautiful painting will hang on my wall for the next four years. The reason I bring this up is that the painting is based upon the Charles Wesley hymn "A Charge to Keep I Have". I am particularly impressed by the second verse of this hymn. The second verse goes like this: " To serve the present age, my calling to fulfill; O may it all my powers engage to do my Master's will ." This is our mission. This verse captures our spirit. Joe was inspired to make this generous loan during the church service preceding the inaugural ceremonies. It was in this church service when we sang

I had every intention of being a good boy and darkening a church door this morning. I really did. I occasionally have such inclinations, usually toward the end of the day Saturday while under the influence of a cocktail or twenty. Come Sunday morning, however, inevitably my more sensible and sober mind realizes that to do so would necessitate actually getting out of the bed. Needless to say, I haven't been to church in years. Sanity reigned supreme yet again this morning, so I slept in and opted rather to glean my spiritual edification from a listen to some of my Christian music playlists, on a more convenient and postponed schedule. Skillet , a most excellent Christian rock group that I had not considered for quite some time, was first up on the list today. And this particular song, Looking For Angels , has ever since been stuck in my head. Christians with conscience, who knew? As the song asks, when will we realize we've been desensitized by the lies of the world? We're