Monday, July 28, 2008

Form Flatters Function

Sobbing: "Why are you doing this?"

Pausing: "I believe in the power of symbolism."

Big Sobs: "Why me? What did I do wrong?"

Insulted: "This is not punishment. You did nothing wrong that I know of. Even if you had done something as wrong as to deserve this for reward, I would not stand as your judge. I am no judge of people. That is not within my nature."

Sniffing: "Then why are you doing this?"

Back to Work: "When the pathetic mushrooms in white lab coats receive bullets, plucked from vintage dark grain wood paneling by Neanderthals in blue uniforms, they will be excited. They will find quality prints on each bullet. They will feel lucky. They will easily match those prints to you. How will this make them feel?"

Unwilling to Answer

Answering: "They will feel smart. They will pass the fruits of their genius back to the Neanderthals, who will promptly start looking for you. Your record will come to light along the way, and they will begin looking for a prime suspect."

Mad: "Why me?"

Matter of Fact: "You were small of stature and looked like your will had been bent by a crushing life. You looked like you had given up recently. People in this state of mind are the easiest to fool, manipulate and physically manage. You fit my needs and you crossed my path when my needs were at their peak."

Worried: "They'll know it wasn't me. When they find me, they'll know. They will figure it out."

Working: "In their minds, they will have figured it out before they ever find you. They will have no other evidence or suspects. They will be at a dead end. They will have no interest in assuming it was not you. But, as you say, they will eventually figure it out. We will help them. The pieces will fall into place. My point will be made, and your small role will help me make it, and in a way you will help them realize that you are not perpetrating this. They will realize that you were a victim too."

Scared: "I can describe your appearance, but I won't. I won't help them. Let me go now and I won't tell anyone. I'll just blend back in and you'll never see me again."

Finished with Prints: "I want you to help them and me. You can help everyone. Now, sit very still."


Chopping: "I need these. I am going to exonerate you with these. Each shot to the temples and chests of the current administration with bear one of your beautiful finger prints. Each symbol will be followed by the delivery of the same dainty finger, which left the print that their smart little mushrooms will find."

Panic: "No more. No more. Please."

Tagging: "You see why I must keep them organized. There can't be a single flaw in the communication of a new symbol. To have the greatest impact a new meme like this one must be simple, immediate, flawless and bright red. We will achieve all four."

Shock: "Please, no more. No more. Please."

Pity: "We are already done: Congratulations. The hard part is now over; relax. Your part in this play will be remembered and written about for years to come. In this way, I'm not shortening your life expectancy, I'm lengthening it."


Affection: "I can give you everything you've asked me for now. I'm done here. You will be remembered almost as long as I am."



Friday, July 25, 2008

Change is the work of living.

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

I look at my daughter
and notice her hair:
wild, thin and curly.

Her smile is quick and ready.

Often is Not Always

Often, I will put my book down,
take a drink,
look out my kitchen window,
and wonder at how lucky I have been.
I will marvel at the women in my life
and their genuine love of me.
I will pause again, take another drink,
and wonder why often is not always.
Another drink, and I pick up the book
beginning where I left off
just moments before.

When an individual stops thinking for themselves
another will always be present to do it for them.

Tuesday, July 15, 2008

Window View

Skepticism is an exhausting discipline.

Too many citizens trust their government
not because it has earned that trust,
but because it is easier.

Easier because it demands no action
but taking it.

Easier because any other reaction
requires we back up our ideals
with disturbing realization,
so we withdraw into trust,
abdication of duty,
for short term comfort
and hope without reason.

The world is moving fast, and
I don't trust the drivers.

Monday, July 14, 2008

Focus Makes the Image

Absolutes are a short-cut to thinking,
a lazy man's wisdom, and often

robs absolutes of accuracy.
require abstractions to thrive.

Deepened understanding
muddies waters
once clear.

What is true in detail
may be false in abstraction,
and what is understood in abstraction
may be confused in detail.

This is why I seek understanding
and truth.

Thursday, July 10, 2008

Probability Tempers Possibility

Calm down
just calm down

I wish there was a science.

When we have no fear of the known
the unknown is all that is left to fear.
This is not "fear itself",
the unknown can be very specific,
varied, and prolific.

Once the known is exhausted
the unknown waits, inexhaustible
of supply and variety.
We can't avoid fear,
its natural, and healthy
as long as balance is kept.

Balance is lost when the unknown
has the urgency of the known.

Fear must be kept in its place
to remain healthy.
It must be disciplined
and controlled.
Maintain balance through exercise:
- Breath in,
- Breath out,
- Repeat;
- Remembering, possibility
is tempered by probability.

Wednesday, July 09, 2008

What Times are These

I wonder what times are these
that I'm living.
I wonder if we are slipping
or simply adjusting
to improve our grip.

I am recently realizing, that
birth is an involuntary
assignment of
space time location.
You are where you are,
four dimensionally.
You don't make your time
but your time makes you.

You are a sum of your experience,
you are a product of your environment.

You are just beginning to realize that
you have never had a free will.
You still don't,
you never will.

All action is response.

What times are these
that I'm living?
Should I look up or down?
Should I hope or hide?
Should I record something for the future,
or will the future
find its own

Know thyself, said the oracle.
Know your space time location
and you know half of it, said the new man.

If you call everyone
you want to talk to,
and no one answers;
it means no one drinks
at this hour but you.

Tuesday, July 08, 2008

If Wolves Were Wishes

If wolves were wishes
we would never survive
but fishes swim closer
to the way we live

Revelatory Trimming

I find myself wanting to say what life is;
a new way to appreciate old meanings,
a fresh reason to shoulder the load
a little longer.

Each time I want to write a revelation
I realize I've simply understood
another item that life clearly isn't;
scales of unrealistic expectations
shedding into the daily wake.

I've been writing this same nothing for months.
This little poem commemorates
the disappointment,
the uninvited clarity
the cold hard truth I'm beginning
to befriend.

All revelations are not additive
and in a society of overselling
its not a surprise that revelations
are often subtractive.

some revelations trim
and cut
and reduce us
until we are ready to grow
in an improved direction
and these don't naturally motivate me to write
instead they leave me quiet,
sitting, thinking, drinking.

Revelatory trimming
leaves me thoughtful:
Wondering why so many lies were deemed necessary
and how long it will take to purge them all.
Wondering how many do I have left,
and feeling embarrassed every time,
but better, cleaner,
and feeling a little closer to everything.

Strange Gig

He calls his Bently
his "bent bent".

He calls his wife
his "shorty".

He's an idiot
but he pays really good.

He doesn't talk properly
He doesn't think straight
He can't focus for long
He fights good though
and he is hard core loyal.

He drags me to bars
showing me off as his whitey,
his "genius boy".

He gets violent
at the smallest slight.

He loves a fight.

He throws fists when
anyone messes with me.

I try to hide in a corner
sipping whatever his friends buy me.

He won't let me hide though
pressuring me to play pool
to stand under lights
so eyes can better focus on me.

He loves a fight.

He calls it play time
as long as guns don't come out.
He calls that business.

Its a strange job
but even thugs need
a programmer in their posse
to keep their edge.

Tuesday, July 01, 2008

Social Lament

The older I get,
the more broken I feel.

Social situations,
have become uneasy.

Each interaction,
challenges my new poverty.

I wonder why,
have I begun to slide away.

New Commitment

A new commitment has formed
within the last few months
like threads being strung slowly
until a web is formed
strong enough to catch more than
my eye, strong enough to catch
my heart.
I begin to feel committed
to an area of research
an area of thought
that has names
and definitions,
that begins to make me wake early
and spend scarce free time
embraced in the ground
that has been staked out
for this new settlement.
It is a new commitment
and may not last
but I'm enthused
and ready to get the tattoos
and the dominant
that clearly mark
a new and abiding commitment.

I do not believe I will be the same when this has run its course.