I love this:

Kathy Griffin’s Jesus Profanity Stirs Outrage

A ‘D-List’ star uttered a profanity about Jesus. Controversy ensues.
By Lisa Miller
Newsweek

Oct. 1, 2007 issue – Some stories are best told straight. On Sept. 8, Kathy Griffin, a bawdy, foulmouthed comedian, accepted an Emmy Award for her reality show, “My Life on the D-List,” and in her acceptance speech she explained that while other actors might thank Jesus for such an honor, she wouldn’t consider it. “Suck it, Jesus,” she exuberantly added, waving her statuette in the air. “This award is my God, now.”

Outrage from Christian groups predictably followed, led (also predictably) by William Donohue of the Catholic League, who went on CNN to complain that “Hollywood laughs when she says ‘Suck it, Jesus,’ but if she’d said ‘Suck it, Jews,’ or ‘Suck it, Muhammad’ … they wouldn’t be laughing, would they?” Then, newspapers reported that E! Television would scrub the speech before airing it the following weekend, which triggered an equal and opposite outcry from liberal groups accusing E! of censorship. Around that same time, a group of college students in Hawaii, sitting around voraciously reading the news, “got a giggle,” as 20-year-old Carlos Uretta puts it, out of the controversy. So they did what any atheist-minded group of 21st-century college students would do: they registered suckitjesus.com as a domain name and, a few days later, put up a petition in support of Kathy Griffin, which now has more than 2,500 signatures. “We got an e-mail from someone in Italy, and we thought—really? People are concerned about this in Italy?”

You might think that when the awards show aired the next weekend, edited but not completely airbrushed, the controversy would die. But you would be wrong. Last week a small Christian theater company based in Pigeon Forge, Tenn., took out two full-page ads in USA Today at $90,000 a pop, decrying Griffin’s remarks and pleading for a new civility. Griffin, meanwhile, went on Larry King, who played the unedited clip and ignited the entire thing all over again. And who stands to benefit from this tempest? Well, Griffin, who’s playing sold-out shows all over the country this fall. And Tennessee’s Miracle Theater, just down the road from Dolly Parton’s theme park and in its second year of staging a Broadway-type play about the life of Christ. “The phones have definitely picked up, and that’s great,” says manager Russ Hollingsworth. Now that they’ve scored the domain name, Uretta and his friends think it might be fun to expand their site, but “not to be too profound or anything,” he says. No worries, Carlos. You’re in good company.

URL: http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/20920371/site/newsweek/?GT1=10357

9/21/07 – first rain of the season.

and so it begins.

Last night, after the president of my company gave me my award plaque at our company dinner, he said he wanted to tell us a story about an old Persian king. So this king loved listening to violin music, so he put a call out to the kingdom for the best violin player. They found the guy who was the star of the orchestra, so the king asked for him to come to his palace every day to play for him. So every day, he would play for the king and the king would clap wildly after he was finished, ecstatic with his violin skills. He felt proud because he could bring such joy to the king, so every day, he looked forward to traveling to the castle to play for the king. One day, he returned home and his wife looked distressed. When he asked her what was wrong, she said that he has stopped playing with the orchestra to spend every day playing for the king, and now they had no income coming in and she was worried about money. He told her not to worry, that everything would work out, and he continued to play for the king every day, instead of playing with the orchestra for pay. One day, he came home and his wife was crying. She said that she tried to go to the market and buy food to make dinner, but she had no money and no one would give her anything. He says, don’t worry, give me your list and I’ll go. So he goes to the market, picks out everything on the list, and when they tell him how much it is, he looks the vendor in the eye, and starts clapping enthusiastically. You see, he derived such pleasure for when the king clapped for his violin playing and took this as the king’s payment, he assumed that this vendor would accept clapping as tender as well. Of course he didn’t, but when the story traveled back to the king, the king laughed and sent him enough money to take care of himself and his family.

“So the moral of this story,” the president said in his broken English, “is…the clap…will not pay your bills.”

Indeed, wise president. The clap will definitely not pay your bills.

So let’s say you go to bar and there happens to be a minority TV industry networking event going on. Let’s say you crash it and pretend you’re with the group. Out of the blue, a guy starts chattin you up. Let’s say suddenly a possessive girl who feels she already has dibs comes pushing through the crowd, and sticks her hand in your face to introduce herself, because all 5 foot 9 aggro African-American of her wants you to know this is her prey, her conversation, and you had better back the fuck up. How do you get out of this situation without any she-cat scratches on your dignity or your corneas?

I decided not only was I not gonna back down, but I was gonna do the opposite. I gave her my biggest, most disarming smile and looked at her like she’s the most interesting person in the room. I shook her hand warmly and ask her where she works. She tells me and I ask her what they do, listening attentively. I’m completely ignoring the guy. She goes into a long-winded rambling explanation then decides to just finish it by saying it’s a TV network that’s like the one the guy works for, but without protestors in front of the building. I say, seeing from the way you carry yourself, it sounds classy as well. She looks pleasantly surprised, then says, “Yeah, it is. Thank you.” She’s grinning, defenses gone. The guy had joked with me that his network has too much “titty-bouncing” before she got there, so I say, “Yeah, it’s not like all the titty-bouncing they got over on his network…” She laughs and he laughs. They each thought they were in on an inside joke against the other person. The ice was broken and we started joking around. I looked at her and then him, both so giddy and nervous, and thought, is this how threesomes start? We were still joking around when my boss pulled me away to take a company group picture (I forgot to mention, I was there having a company celebratory dinner. Let’s just say I’ve been bitching the last month about wanting to move to San Francisco and being an all around disgruntled bitch around the office, and tonight, as a surprise, they present me with an award for outstanding service along with a five-digit bonus in hopes that I’ll stay. Uh, come again? Ladies, I will only say it once–Men. Love. Bitches. I know, it’s completely depressing to me, too.) So as we got ready for the picture, the guys were cracking up about how they had been watching me to see how I planned to work the crowd. How that guy started talking to me and within moments, the girl came steaming towards us from the other side of the bar, getting in my face to cockblock me, but whatever I did, they were both flirting with me at the end. I told them, you just have to know how to talk to people. You get into people by making them feel that in your eyes, in that moment, they’re the most beautiful, amazing creatures you’ve ever seen, and then you own them.

You’re drunk, my coworker says as he puts his arm around me, and you have a big ego.

You love me, I say.

You’re definitely interesting, he says, and I lean my intoxicated head into his chest.

Meanwhile, the coworker I’ve been spending a lot of time with, my little Scorpio protege/tormentor, was jealous of me getting the award and the bonus. It was so hard core he could barely look me in the eye. I saw it on his face the way I see it on a lot of guys I’ve dated in the past when they see my car, or my house, or how many friends I have or some other form of envy. It’s always disappointing. It’s like something about another person’s success shakes up a jealous person’s inner core so they feel their sense of self threatened. I sat across from him at dinner and he was acting weird, so I just said straight up, you’re jealous that I got this. He looks surprised and said straight up, yeah I am! I said, you’re a little bitch because if you had gotten this, I would have been happy for you, and still happy with myself. He says, sometimes you’ve gotta be a hater, which then sparked a group lecture from two more spiritual coworkers on either side of him about being being a bigger person.

After dinner, he gave me a ride to my car and I started laughing. “I can’t believe you were jealous. That’s so fucked up. “

He told me how jealousy fuels his success and was cocky about it. I told him that he can’t think of other people’s success as being in direct competition with his. He says that there’s always a winner and always a loser, like in sports. He says, there’s always a loser, and it’s not gonna be me.

I said yeah, in sports, we may care who wins during the game. But when it’s over, we just remember that we had fun and maybe we learned something, we got better, whatever, but that’s what it’s about. No one remembers who won or lost a game in the long run. And also, I could knock someone down in the context of the game and it would be fine. But if I knock someone down on the street, it’s totally inappropriate. There’s a place for everything but sometimes you have to see the bigger picture. It’s a big enough universe for everyone.

He tries to tell me that life is a war and it’s kill or be killed, and he thinks that way because he spent his childhood in Israel and life was a war. I tell him, I grew up with someone who approaches life as war and spends her life strategizing and vigilant in recognizing perceived threats, so I know what that’s like and I have it in me. There’s a time when you need that capability, when you’re fighting for something or in the presence of people who are undermining you. But the key is to know the difference. So many soldiers fight a war and then come back and fail in society, because they don’t know how to adjust. A true warrior can fight in times of war, but thrive in times of peace. A true warrior knows the difference.

He says so what that I felt jealous and couldn’t be happy for you for like two minutes. you’re so on top of it, you noticed these things immediately and I couldn’t even hide it. I can’t even let myself feel jealous for two minutes. That’s your thing, you’re so aggressive and you point out people’s flaws when they’re vulnerable and it’s like kicking a guy when they’re down.

I tell him that’s the thing men don’t understand about people like me. We never kick with the intent to hurt. We can’t help seeing things, but when we look at people, we aren’t looking for flaws, we’re looking at the whole picture and we see everything realistically, your strengths and weaknesses, but we love you as a whole, both good and bad because we’re all human, so you can stop obsessing about hiding what you think are flaws. But the problem is YOU don’t accept the flaws yourself. I come from such a good, caring place, and you can’t even comprehend that because you’re so threatened. So look at yourself before you start pinning it on me as a way that I’m judging you because I’m not. It’s about the potential you have and how you get in your own way, why you’re always telling me you’re not satisfied with your life. There’s so much abundance in the world that everyone can be successful. Why the fuck do you have to be successful in the same way as other people and obsess about it when you’re really just avoiding your own dreams?

He said, because I want to be better than people because I want to be in control at all times.

Do think you have control over me?

Yeah, I’m in complete control of the situation.

Really. You have control.

He hesitates, then says, yeeee…ah.

You don’t have any control over me.

Well, you don’t see it, but–

How can you have any control if you can’t even catch me?

He lets out a string of sounds but doesn’t really complete a thought.

You’re dealing with a world class athlete here, and the only thing I was built to do is run. Look at my body, look at how athletic I am. Look at how fast I type. How fast I think. Everything about me is about going as fast as possible. And that’s because I have one goal and one goal only, and that
is to not ever get caught. What makes you think you can possibly outrun me when this is all I do? What makes you think you can ever be faster than me?

I can’t, he says, quietly.

But why would you think you have to be? You don’t need to be. You’re outstanding in other ways. It’s like this. If I really admire a friend and she’s a world famous violinist, I’m not gonna say, holy crap, she’s so good at violin, I’ve gotta be as good as her, and then waste my life trying to be as good as her when violin isn’t my destiny. I’m gonna say, even though I love music but I’m not musically talented, I’m good at other things, like basketball and writing, and I hope that she’s as impressed by my unique successes as I am of hers.

So I guess I’m yelling at him, not out of anger but out of passion, hanging halfway out of his car because I don’t want to be in an enclosed space with him. My bosses drive by and wave with these little smiles on their faces, and I say, Oh crap. Now everyone’s gonna think we’re dating.
He says, whatever, who cares.

But I don’t like this.

The thing is, I’m not emotionally involved here outside of our friendship or mentorship or whatever it is we are. I’m not engaged in his romantic projection that he keeps pushing onto me. I’m a slab of ice on the inside because I don’t have any desire of a shared romantic path with him, even though my head is connected and for whatever reason, we keep talking. I hate office rumors because they only turn ugly.

Now I’m really irritated so I say, Men love bitches. Straight up. You love bitches. I treat you so badly, and I don’t treat anyone like this, because you do dumb shit to provoke me because it’s what you want. Stop being a little bitch and grow up. I’m tired of this dynamic. Just take the freakin’ message so we can both move on. Whatever potential it was that you felt you had but people didn’t see in you while you were growing up, get over the bullshit and just go out and be who you are if that’s what you want. Go be successful if you really want it so badly. Figure out what you want to do to be successful and do it. But stop trying to get people to treat you badly just because you get off on it and it distracts you from pursuing the things that you wish you had that other people have.

He nods somberly. You’re right.

He tells me to get in the car and smoke a bowl with him. I say no. He asks me again and I say no again. He says, you’re really irritating me right now.

I say, I irritate you all the time. I’m actually completely irritating to you across the boards.

He looks out the windshield for a while then says, you know, all this time we’ve been talking and spending time, I never really got it, but I just got what you’ve been saying tonight. Everything you’ve been trying to say to me.

Really? I say. It’s been a long battle and a part of me doesn’t believe he’ll ever give in.

He says, yeah, I get what you’re saying about my life and what I need to do. Just right now. I just got it.

Good, I say. I give it a respectful pause. Then we’re done here?

I can tell from his eyes, he doesn’t quite know how to take that question.

We’re done, he says.

I smile.

I close the door, then leave.

I have been having a lot of adventures and interesting experiences. I keep starting posts but saving them as drafts. It’s like I want to see what’s at the end of this tunnel first before I write about it publicly.

It is hard to seduce a person who lacks imagination.

My All-Time Favorite Mood Booster

see, who you are is like a million polarities simultaneously attracted and repelled to different degrees at different times, forming a complex system that continually changes with different aspects dominating depending on the degree of tension between certain polarities.

if you want to explore certain things, ideas or perspectives, you imagine particular polarities and you stretch them as far apart from each other as you can like a rubber band, putting great energy and thought into one concept/point/image/idea, then opposing energy and thought into the other. basically, you have to believe in both equally strongly, until they are almost the same thing to you. because at some point in the infinity continuum, polar opposites co-exist as the exact same point. this is why it’s very very important to make sure you identify concepts in direct opposition or you’ll see that it doesn’t work. you need to be as extreme as possible, exerting as much energy simultaneously into both, but ideally, you exert an equal amount of energy into each polarity so that it is balanced. and through that aggravated tension, new syntheses of idea are born by observing what is revealed in the tension between the polarities.

my point is, don’t read too much into things. i do my best to entertain strangers, update friends, etc., but this has always been first and foremost my mental training space.

believe whatever you want to believe. that’s the beauty of it, because i am whatever you want to believe, and that’s all that matters. it has nothing to do with me.

but those who know me, know the truth, and that’s the beauty of that as well.

i am nothing
i am insignificant
just a whirlwind of half-materialized hopes and dreams masquerading as the shadow of an almost human being
borne of a seething loneliness that managed to grow itself a set of teeth.
but sometimes i remind you of something nagging
deep inside yourself just out of your grasp that you love or hate
but you can’t quite figure out which

just give it time.

you’ll soon find out there’s not much difference.

hahaha

it’s all bullshit.

this tearing myself down then building myself up.

tearing myself down

building myself up

tearing myself down

tearing myself down

tearing myself down

with practice, i am getting faster at it. soon i’ll be a new person every morning that i wake up.

it’s all a restart. new life, a new personality.

yet nothing really changes except your memory gets worse. and then people on the street are saying hi to you and recognizing you, but you don’t know who they are.

i think it’s like drugs, this process.

the more you do it, the more and more you lose a little bit of yourself, yet you’re compelled to keep going.

it’s like a snake. shedding. but instead of growing, something in you gets smaller. and the other voices get more distinct.

i tell you though. snakes are beautiful creatures.

colin told me that when a writer creates a character, that character stays with him for the rest of his life.

i said, i know. they haunt you.

i asked him if the characters in a person’s head are coming or going. do they only come in when you make them up because by imagining them you’ve invited them in, or are writers just crazy people who spend their lives desperately trying to exorcise these screaming tormented souls who were born into the world with them, demanding a voice, so that one day they can have the peace of a quiet mind? maybe we talk to dead people and don’t even know it. maybe we are the dead people, and don’t even know it.

i will say this though.

you can listen to us, but be aware. writers walk the edge of darkness like madmen along midnight train tracks. we are the quicksand that entices you with hypnotic promises of adventure, knowing full well that to accept us is to succumb to us. when we invite you in for a ride, you trust us not to lead you to someplace damaging, destructive. someplace so completely raw and overwhelmingly intimate as to destroy all boundaries. all sense of reality. but to be honest, that requires a lot of restraint. to not fuck with that trust. to not fuck with the fact that you trust us not to reach into your heads and fuck you where you’re the most vulnerable, where all that is logical is clutched tightly so that everything is in its place, a reality that’s compartmentalized and predictable. continuity is comfortable, isn’t it? yeah, it makes you feel like you actually have some control over your destiny. but you know it’s fragile. a person’s tenuous grasp on his perception of reality is his weakest link. admit it. we depend on the visions, ideas and inspiration of people who straddle the frail, frail line between genius and madness, hoping that what they project to us is the truth that could save us. there’s a 50/50 chance you’re following a madman into the abyss.

i’m just saying that every coin has 3 sides.

2 that belong to him.

and the 1 that is his shadow.

i’m going into withdrawals because i’m forcing isolation on myself and half of me is struggling. sometimes i have to bitch slap her and lock her in the dungeon. i never claimed i wasn’t a sadist.

yesterday i admitted to a complete stranger that i lie just to make sure that no one knows completely who i am. but maybe that’s a lie, too.

because sometimes i lie about lying, to distract you from the fact that i am by honor bound to express truth and vulnerability. but the rules don’t forbid the simultaneous projection of smoke.

how much do you hate an unreliable narrator?

they say that handwriting is very indicative of your personality.

i can’t even present myself in a straight line. is it any surprise that i’m completely motorly impaired in my ability to draw one?

anyway, like i was saying, withdrawals. and it somehow shattered my sense of self tonight, so it’s like looking at myself in a prism. this is good because it means the process has started. pretty soon, the characters will begin. how dangerous is it that i’m allowing pluto to lead me right now? i never said i wasn’t scared. courage is knowing you should be scared, but following through anyway. i guess you could say, so is stupidity.

(to be honest with you, sometimes i look at my words and i don’t know where the fuck they come from. it’s like a room full of people all crowding for the same videophone yelling things at it. and julia is just the mouthpiece).

i am a trustworthy person who can not be trusted? i am an honest liar? i am the smartest retarded person you ever met? or am i the most pathetic piece of brilliance to ever stick to the bottom of your shoe? perhaps i am just a lurking shadow of everything you don’t want to look at. just a ghost that got stuck in the spaces in between.

don’t anyone come near me right now. the weather today is stormy with an 83% chance of locusts.

To the Recurring Guy in My Dreams Whose Face I Can’t See–

Whoever you are, I can’t ever remember your face so sorry if I have no idea who you are. But thanks for always dropping by my dreamscape and hanging out. Do you like how the entire place is white and soft? Yeah, I love it. Anyway, I know I always say that I’m going to remember you when I wake up, but I’ll be honest, I’m not a good waker-upper. I’m so groggy in the morning that by the time I figure out who I am and where I am, I’ve forgotten most of the visuals of my dreams. I’m just happy when I recognize if the seat cover is up or down before I pee. This is all I know:

1. you spend a lot of time alone at home listening to music.
2. your energy feels very mature in that your energy is stable and protective, but there’s something childlike about you.
3. you drive a dark-colored car.
4. your name starts with a D i think. There’s a hard D.
5. you seem significantly bigger than me. your shoulders look nice in a sweater, which surprised me because i usually think men look stupid in sweaters.
6. you’re a warm person who makes me feel comfortable.

Yeah so, stop dancing around me. Run into me, or I’ll run into you. And we’ll go out. It’ll be like a Match.com date. But much much more surreal.

It’s definitely started, the descent. I see now that the last few months where I’ve learned about my own personal power have been a spiritual training of sorts to increase my strength before I embark on this journey. I hope that the end result is creative, cathartic and something that I am finally willing to show the world.

I was falling asleep last week and I saw my parents’ house, the house I grew up in. I’ve always sworn up and down that the house was haunted, ever since we moved in back in 1986. My hometown was built upon Indian land, and growing up, we’ve heard plenty of stories about Indian burial grounds and people who have seen spirits in their homes, the legless ghosts being the ones that most intrigued me. I’ve never seen a manifestation of a ghost there, but there was always an energy…and you were constantly feeling like you weren’t alone in any given room, or that there was someone or something watching you.

As I was falling asleep, I realized that over Labor Day weekend, the house would be empty with my dad in China and the rest of my family vacationing in Reno (sidenote: Reno is my least favorite city of all time). I realized that I’ve never spent a night alone in that house–there was always a nanny or relative, or if I was gonna be alone, I would spend the night elsewhere. I realized that maybe it was time to confront the house.

I had something to do on Saturday morning, but I drove up to Fremont without packing anything but my laptop, ipod and notebook. It was completely spontaneous. It was a great drive and plus, I was breaking in my new car. For the first time, I didn’t speed outrageously, and I didn’t race anyone. I like that I’m much more respectful of the value of my life these days despite being faced with prolonged boredom. (sidenote: this heatwave is killer. It was 121 degrees just south of Gilroy, and yet I saw people working the fields in jeans and long-sleeved shirts. Whatever your station in life, always be thankful because it could always be worse). On the way up, my mom called and she wanted to know what I was doing. I told her I was going to a secret place and she said that I should tell someone so it’s not 100% a secret, in case anything happened to me. I thought about it and it made sense, so I told her I was going home. I told her I wanted to spend the night by myself to confront my fear of the house and to stand up to the ghosts and she laughed nervously. “Oh honey…the house isn’t haunted.” But she added quickly, “But even if it is, I think they’re friendly, helpful ghosts.” She said that she thought I perceived the house as haunted because of the bad relationship of my parents and all their negative energy, so that since the house was empty, it wouldn’t feel bad. That was definitely a theory I wanted to keep in mind.

I got to Fremont around 7pm, and settled in. I walked through the house, announced my arrival but of course, the one room I just couldn’t go into was the guest room (I’ve always felt that the energy centered around the guest room, which always feels drafty and heavy. Reggie once commented on the same thing and I told him that when we first moved in, that was supposed to be my room but I spent a few minutes in there and begged to be switched to another room). I turned on the jacuzzi, stripped, and went skinny dipping, which I’ve never done before.

Something that I really never fully appreciated about our house. We’re up on a hill in the boonies overlooking the city and the bay, so when you look out, it’s all city lights for as far as the eye can see. There’s a lot of separation and trees between the houses, so there’s only one house that borders us, but they can’t see us because of the walls and tall redwood trees. Our pool is landscaped to look like a natural pond, with a wood deck, stone setting surrounded by trees and a waterfall. The sky was clear so the stars stood brilliantly against the navy sky. It felt like I was at a private hideaway, protected in complete isolation. I thought about life, and people and what I wanted of myself. I realized that my focus is so scattered, that I’ve never envisioned an ideal future for myself, to create a projected goal that I can work towards. That’s definitely one of my biggest problems, how I scatter my energies. I thought about who I wanted to be, and imagined what I would look like, how I would feel, and who and what I would have in my life. I realized I needed to write all this down and envision this future every day. I need to focus. I also recognized that I’m on the verge of outputting something very important to me and that will require a lot of courage, but I’m having trouble starting it, so I’ve been working on it from the middle. All I know is that I’m determined to have it dominate me this fall. It’s all I think about, it’s all I want. I’ve said goodbye to a lot of people lately and let them know that I’m going underground, but that it’s not personal but this is just something I have to do…to focus. I’ve just gotta board up my head, so the energy can only go in one direction. But I’ll be back when I’m done. I felt good. I’m facing a huge unknown, I’m standing at the edge of the woods on the outskirt of my comfort zone, and I’m just waiting for the signal to begin the plunge. But I’m prepared. As I was treading water and staring at the sky thinking all these things, I saw movement in the water next to me. I look over and there is the most beautiful black snake with crisp white rings swimming through the water. If you’ve ever seen a snake swim, it’s the most beautiful, graceful process. It was just a baby, but I was mesmerized. I swam after it for a bit, watching it carve the surface of the water until I realized, wait a minute. 1. I’m in a pool, not a pond, so this is strange that I’m swimming with a snake; 2. There are no water snakes where I am, so I don’t know if this snake really wants to be in the water or can survive; 3. That’s not a garter snake and it’s too dark to see it’s head for me to tell if it’s poisonous. So suddenly I think it’s a good idea to get out of the pool. I get out and I’m watching it, and it’s going around and around the edge of the pool. I realize it’s trying to get out. I follow it and I still can’t see it’s head, but I also knew that coral snakes have bands and couldn’t remember the indigenous habitats for coral snakes (I used to read up on snakes as a kid, but suddenly, all this knowledge was failing me when I needed it). I kind of just wanted to leave, but then I worried that if a snake isn’t a natural water snake, if it would eventually drown. And then it would be my fault. It also occurred to me that in a lot of mythology, gods and goddesses can turn themselves into creatures to teach or test you, and if you fail, you’re in trouble. And if this was a test and I let this snake die, I’m seriously an asshole.

So I decided to rescue it. I didn’t have the guts to pick it up, but I also figured I didn’t want to take too much time, because it was circling around the edge of the pool and I was afraid it would get to the barrier between the pool and jacuzzi, which is lower, and boil itself. Keep in mind, I’m still naked. So I’m looking for the pool net, and I see some poles standing next to a tree in the middle of all these bushes. I’m thinking, okay, that’s what I need, but we also have a lot of spiders and I have pretty intense arachnaphobia. Specifically, I’m terrified of black widows, which live outside around our house. So I’m naked and barefoot, and to save this snake, I’ve gotta crash through this heavy brush to get the pool net, and suddenly I’m thinking this is either a spiritual test from the universe to face my fears, or this is an opening to Six Feet Under where some dumbass dies in a random, weird way–specifically for me, my family returns from their vacation to find me naked, drowned and floating facedown in their pool with a black widow bite on one buttcheek and a snakebite on the other. I desperately don’t want to be in the running for a Darwin Award. So I decide to face my fears and crash through
the bushes, even though I can feel me breaking through spiderwebs. I get to the tree and examine the poles to find that they’re 3 poles, but all with no nets attached. I see another pole lying on the ground that’s a little hike away, so I crash through more bushes and spider webs to find that this one has a net attached, but it’s filled to the brim with caked mud and leaves. DOES NO ONE CLEAN THIS POOL? Fuck.

I go back and I swear I feel things crawling on me, but I suppress the urge to jump into the pool with the maybe/maybe-not poisonous snake. I have an epiphany and go into the house, grabbing a garbage can from the office. I use it to scoop up the snake who’s so anxious and timid, that it shies away every time I come near it so I’m convinced it’s not poisonous. The poor little thing was terrified. I got him in the trashcan, then tossed him into the bushes. The whole thing took about 45 minutes, but I felt really good at having gotten him out of the pool, though not good enough to dump out the remaining pool water from the trash can, so I put it back in the office for my family to discover (sidenote: I’m a lazy tool.) I figured that if that was a spiritual test to show that I am willing to put doing good for other beings over my own personal fears, then I proved that not only am I not a slave to my fears, but that I obviously have no qualms about doing good while completely butt naked.

I went inside, had a beer, did some writing, re-experienced the greatest conscious trauma of my life and was able to make some new discoveries about it and how it has affected my desire and ability to let people come close to me. While I was writing, I kept hearing footsteps and what sounded like someone moving things around in the kitchen. But every time I went in there, there was no one there and everything was in the same place. But after I would go back into the living room, the noises and footsteps would start back up again. It sounded like someone would walk into the kitchen, snack, then leave. Then come back and snack, then leave. I showered and played piano for a while, but at randomly times, I would hear what sounded like a woman singing in the next room. After a while, I started to get a little creeped out so I went to bed.

In terms of the value of going home, it was what I needed. It turned out to be a little writer’s retreat and I was able to confront some major fears and experiences. In terms of our house, maybe my mom was right. I always thought our house was haunted by very angry, disruptive energy, but I think that was what my parents fed the house. While it was empty, it felt very serene, almost maternally protective, but you never shake the feeling that you’re being watched no matter where you are. Sometimes you would be in a room, and you’ll see movement out of the corner of your eye, like someone just walked in through the doorway, but when you turn, there’s no one there, yet it feels like there’s someone there with you. And I’ve never been in a house before that had so many unaccounted for sounds. The singing and the footsteps were definitely unnerving. All in all, I never felt unsafe, if not the complete opposite.

When I left the next day, I stood in the center of the entryway and said goodbye and thank you.

I drove back, getting in really late at night and met up with Colin who had just flown in from a sailing trip in Washington. He was staying with us just for one night while he settles his living situation, so we had some tequila and good conversation. I told him that while the Sun was in Leo, I wore red every day to attract creativity and fire qualities and he said that the color red to an Aries is like waving a red flag at a bull…they just want to charge it. I said that made a lot of sense, because I definitely was meeting and interacting with a lot of Aries all of a sudden in August. But lately, my life has been crowded with Scorpios.

On Monday, the heat was killing me. I decided to not go to my usual spots and instead, I ran errands then ended up at a Barnes and Noble to do some writing. I walked in and the place was crowded because it’s a new store that had just opened up. I was looking around for a place to sit when this guy drawing in a sketchbook asked me if I was looking for a place to sit, and if I wanted to, I could sit with him. I kind of didn’t want to because I wasn’t sure I wanted to be obligated into a conversation, so I said that it was okay, because I had a lot of stuff. But then I saw that he was drawing, so I asked him if he was an artist (I’m looking for an artist to collaborate with me on my book of poetry, a collaborative exploration of inspiration). He said he was and invited me to sit again, so I sat down and we chatted.

We talked about perspective and he wanted to show me his drawings. As I flipped through, I saw something about neurofeedback so I asked him about it. He said he has a friend who is really smart, but has a learning disability so he has trouble expressing his intelligence, like he can’t get the thoughts out of his head when he needs to. So someone told him that neurofeedback might help him, so he took down the name of a book for his friend. I listened and I asked him if it’s like his friend’s mind is a hard drive that saves a file but forgets the location, so he has trouble retrieving files in his head, even though he knows they’re there. He looked surprised and said, that’s exactly it. So his friend has a hard time showing how smart he is because he can’t arrange or grab the ideas or thoughts and express them in a way that people can understand. I told him that maybe his friend doesn’t have a learning disability, but is actually really smart. That a lot of times, brilliant people get diagnosed with a learning disability because their thought processes are unique or wired differently, so their mind works outside of linear thought. How linear thought, linear time/space are all illusions, just constructs to give human perspective a point of reference, but sometimes, people who are smarter can see beyond it, but they also have to train their brain to work within linearity so that they can communicate with people who are bound by those constructs. He listened and he said that this was crazy because he understood exactly what I meant. But he asked me, how do you reorganize your mind so that you can function and communicate everything you see? I said a lot of it come down to focus. For example, say you want to paint this cup. So you decide on a perspective. But someone who can see everything, will simultaneously see all perspectives at once, and it gets overwhelming. It’s like those security control centers where they have a huge grid of all these monitors showing perspectives from different security cameras at the same time. You’re aware of all of the possibilities. But knowing that, you have to decide which perspective you want, or which thought line you want to express or pursue, then put aside all the other ones, follow that one through, and if it’s not what you want or if you want to express something else, then you go back, pick another one, and follow it through. Sometimes people who are really smart, when they are posed a simple question or topic, they have all these thoughts and questions or points, that it’s like having all these marbles in their hands. So even though they want to show you this one green one in their right hand, they’re afraid if they have to drop all the other marbles to show you this one. And they don’t want to lose the other marbles. But you have to figure out a way to find a safe place to put down the other marbles, so you can show people these marbles one by one.

He started drawing as I was talking, drawing out marbles and said that this made sense to him. I told him that he must be a great friend to help out his friend this way. He said that he would like to think that his friends would do the same for him. Secretly, I wondered if he was talking about himself.

We started talking about inspiration and where it comes from, about how art and expression in
volves a connection between the artist and the universe, and between the artist and the perceiver. And how something that is truthfully expressed may not be “liked” by everyone, but it will cause changes or doors opening inside the people who are open to certain ideas or messages.

We started talking about how we see things and people. He asked me if I was good at characters because I seemed to know a lot about people and I said that I can look at someone and read them, their hopes and dreams, their worries and fears, the way a doctor can feel your body and “read” you. But you read some people better than others because their more of a reflection of you or their reflections are in direct opposition to yours so it still is recognizable, or they are reflecting symbols that you’ve had personal experience with.

We started talking about interactions with people is often just people trying to understand themselves, so everyone is trying to find self-understanding by watching the person across from them, or by their own reaction to the relationship or chemistry between the other person. He asked me what I got from him, and he told me what he got from me. He noted that sometimes I seem anxious. I said it’s because this is the type of conversation that, once it’s open, it can consume me and pull me away from focusing it on one project at a time. I laughed and said, you know your friend that you were talking about? I have the same problem. He laughs and said, then why are you giving advice on how to deal with it? I said it’s because I know how to overcome it, I just haven’t been completely successful at it yet.

He asked me, is it a burden to be enlightened? I thought about it and I answered truthfully. “Sometimes you get unbelievably lonely…especially when people think you know too much or will find out too much about them, so they don’t want you near them.” He looked at me and I got nervous, so I said I was going to get a drink, and walked away.

I came back and he looked at his watch and said, do you know you’ve been sitting here and talking for 3 hours and you haven’t done any work? I was surprised because I didn’t think it had been more than 45 minutes. I was waiting for the table next to us to open up and was surprised that so much time had passed. I pulled out my notebook and started writing, but he kept talking me.

At one point, I was saying something and he squinted, like he was trying to look deep inside me. I said, “You just beamed me.” He looked surprised and said, “What?” I said, “You just sent a beam inside me to see if what I said matches up with my insides.” He’s surprised and caught off guard. “Uh, yeah, I beamed you. Wow, I’ve never been called out like that before.” I said, “It’s okay, I do the same thing…I just never realized what it looks like. I guess that’s why when people see me do it, sometimes they can get uncomfortable.” He asked me, “Do you know what I saw?” I said, “No, I only know you did it…I can’t read what information you took back with you.” He laughed, but he didn’t tell me what he saw, though every time I started getting uncomfortable because I got confused about what was happening here, he would read my expression. Honestly, it felt like I was learning what it feels like to be on the other side of me, how it must feel when other people have this type of connection or conversation with me.

I also found out that I couldn’t stop myself and I was talking about things, but as I was saying them, I was listening to myself and learning. I told him how I’m working on this project that’s very personal and important to me, but I was having a hard time because I wasn’t sure of the tone yet. How I’m reading Chuck Palahniuk because I feel like mentally, our perspectives are similar, but sometimes he makes things harder for the reader, like it’s a fuck you if you can’t keep up or understand kind of stance. I’m not yet sure how I want to treat my readers yet…if I want to open up and allow them to understand so that those who are secretly hiding similar pain and histories can relate and use this story as guidance out of their own cages, or if I want to write from a more mental fuck-you stance where I completely ignore the emotional implications of the story and say to the reader, this is my mind, this is my story…you might find it interesting but in terms of how to deal with your shit…that’s not my responsibility.

As I was listening to myself, realized that this was a struggle that I’ve been debating under the surface, but which wasn’t conscious until now. But with a chance meeting of a stranger in a bookstore, I had now made a serious, much needed discovery and now it was helping me move forward.

I looked at him, and I wanted to know. “When’s your birthday?” I asked him. No explanation. Just a very direct expectation of an honest answer.

“The 14th,” he said.

“What month?”

“June.”

I looked at him, an ironic smile on my face.

“You mean Flag Day?”

“Yeah,” he said, surprised that I would know such a random bit of trivia.

“Let me show you something.”

I take out my wallet and pull out my driver’s license, handing it over, only realizing too late that my address was on there. Oh well.

He looked. We have the same birthday.

“Whoa, that’s crazy,” he said, examining my license.

I looked at this guy who I just completely lost track of time with talking about inspiration and perspective and human mirroring and connections…and suddenly felt overwhelmed that we shared the same birthday. Are we indeed natural mirrors for each other? Is this a generous sign from the universe that some things are not coincidences on an objective plane and I’m moving on the right track?

As you know 614 is my favorite number because it’s my birthright. It breaks down to 11, which is the symbol of an innovative but humane leader who ushers the masses into higher awareness and growth. June 14th is one of the symbols that I hold as sacred.

I’ve only met 2 other people with my birthday, both significant meetings. And here was another one, started by chance that immediately launched into a significant conversation, particularly acknowledging that strangers sometimes “plug in” so that they reflect each other’s image for each person to learn and grow.

I left quickly. I needed to retreat to process the experience.

Later that night, I told Brian about my weekend, including the conversation with this artist who turned out to have the same birthday. He said that this was definitely very unusual, that it’s one thing to meet someone with your birthday, but another to have specifically the kind of conversation we sat down and had, then to find this out. I told him about my experience with the snake, and how I had felt this was a test. I asked him if he thought that since I had put aside my fears to do something that was karmically good and unselfish, if this was my reward, that I was given an encounter that gave me knowledge that moved me along. He said, both experiences are pretty unusual. Who knows, you know? But it’s definitely interesting.

I think my senior quote in my high school yearbook was something random like, The road of life has many twists and turns. Whatever you do, don’t forget to signal. I used to wonder what the fuck I meant by that. But now I think I was being defeatist and a little sarcastic, because I think the key is…DON’T SIGNAL.

I think the universe expects your routine. It’s like The Truman Show. Everyone expects you to do certain things, but the day you turn left unexpectedly when everything is expecting you to turn right, something happens. It’s like there’s a sudden small tear in reality because you didn’t go where you were supposed to, and something happens…you see outside of the illusion that is life.

I think that’s why unique things happen during the holidays, during long weekends. The universe expects everyone to be at a certain place, doing a certa
in routine, but all of a sudden, we’re not preparing for the week on Sunday nights…we’re not at work on Monday morning. And then unexpected things happen.

I propose that we all go through the week like it’s normal routine, but at least once a week, do something completely random. Do something that you didn’t even plan that is completely out of the norm. Go someplace you’ve never been. Or show up somewhere you usually go, but on a different night. Trip up the universe that’s expecting to you to go one way, but you suddenly fake and go the other. And suddenly, I think you’ll get this quick glimpse behind the scenes.

even now in heaven there were angels carrying savage weapons.

(u.n.k.l.e.)

One thing that I always ponder is what happens if you try to wish upon a star but tag your hopes and dreams onto a plane instead. This has been something I’ve worried about for years, but then the other night, I had an epiphany…

You can wish upon a star, as the saying goes, and hope that somewhere out there in the universe, a mystical power will grant you your wish.

But if you accidentally wish upon a plane, now there are, say, hundreds of people you have directed your hopes and dreams to. Essentially, you have shared your hopes with them, even though they aren’t consciously aware of this. Those hundred people now go on with their own lives, but what if unconsciously, they carry your wish with them and somehow, with the synchronicity of the universe and the way small changes on the other side of the world can affect your reality, their combined efforts manage to manifest your wish for you.

So you can wish upon a star, one so abstract and far away, or you can share your dreams with a group of strangers headed towards an unknown destination. And perhaps, those strangers might, through the motions of going about their day, help manifest your dream for you.

I’ve decided that every night, I’m going to make a wish upon a plane.

Preferably the largest plane I can find.

So the new fad sweeping our little office is gall bladder flushing. Eddie brought in this plan from his chiro friend who swears that if you flush yourself of gallstones, it will improve your joints. So after the guys all swore by it, I thought I would give my ailing knees some relief by trying it out.

The plan involves drinking a lot of organic, natural apple juice for five days, with the last two days requiring half a gallon of apple juice drank in 8 oz. servings at 2 hour intervals. Then the last day requires servings of epsom salt and grapefruit juice and extra virgin olive oil and grapefruit juice at specific times.

Your body turns into a war zone, and out come your gallstones.

Well, my body feels okay today, but I’m hoping that near the end of the week, my knees will feel like the trampolines they used to be. And by the weekend, I’ll be dunking again.

I watched Stranger Than Fiction last night. I think this is one of my favorite movies now. Holy cow, it’s so creative and smart. I loved the dialogue, and Will Ferrell gave a great performance…he really reined it in and took his character seriously, which was something I was afraid he wouldn’t do. The situation was so absurd but he played his character so human and real with a believable arc, that it was impossible not to get lost in his journey.

It was funny because I had really wanted to see this movie when it first came out, but then I waited and waited. Sometimes I like to find the right time to watch a movie that I really think I’m going to like. I had rented it on Sunday, and my coworker and I were talking yesterday about how I want to let go of the edge and just dive into my creative well and see what comes out…because I need to get focused and write something good so I can stop working at my job. He said that what I need is a manager, someone who’s on my ass getting me disciplined and being my muse. He asked me if I’ve seen Stranger than Fiction, and I told him I actually had it at home and was planning to watch it, and he said I was gonna get a lot out of it.

Well, first of all, when a writer goes into his or her cave, it’s unpredictable. You don’t know if you’re going to go crazy, but you have to be willing to let it happen. Emma Thompson was super nutty, but I loved the part when she goes into the hospital, sees the old guy standing around, takes a few seconds to look at him intensely, then sums up that there’s nothing wrong with him…he just likes looking at sick people. Sometimes you just look at people and you know. I hope that my process doesn’t lead me to insanity, but I’ll be the first to admit I haven’t gone down to the bottom of the well, yet. I think I’m almost ready to.

Secondly, you can hire muses? Fuck. I didn’t know that. Muses for me, have always been love interests that I feel a powerful chemistry with and attraction to, but for some reason, something inside me keeps me from getting too close or them from getting too close. It’s a pull me/push me nightmare with a lot of passion and sexual frustration. There’s never sex, because I think deep down, I know the sex will take away from the creative, idealized side of the connection. A lot of times they’re unavailable people themselves. But between the chemistry and the inability to have them or consummate an emotional and physical relationship, that torture juice fuels a lot of my creativity. It’s like being around them creates this electric frenzy inside of me where I can see and feel everything. I want to tell them everything, show them everything, but they’re not really listening or don’t know what I’m talking about, so it challenges me to communicate in very truthful or emotional ways that exceed my natural daily ability (or maybe willingness). These people drive me crazy, but they allow me to do my best work, so I’m always terrified when they’re gone gone. It’s like losing your energy source. Sometimes you can internalize a muse, but it’s so much easier with an external muse. The juice is so much more powerful and raw. I don’t know if Queen Latifah could shape me up…I felt like her character didn’t really become as prominent and fleshed out as I thought she would be…but I definitely wouldn’t mind a calm and soothing companion around me when I go into my cave and jump down that well. I always worry about my ability to come back.

I don’t know what’s going to happen in the next months. I’ve made up my mind that I’m diving into the well, but this time I want to reach the bottom. I know I disappear whenever I attempt this, but a lot of it has to do with the fact that when I devote myself fully to my creativity, I have trouble controlling my external manifestations, so my personality gets all over the place, and that’s something that I don’t feel comfortable with people seeing…my distinct personality inconsistencies and splits. But I want everyone in my life to know, that this time, I’m coming from a place of more strength and inner integrity than I’ve ever had in my life, that diving into the well won’t destroy the real me, but it will help me integrate whatever it is that I feel I left behind in those depths. I hope by giving complete power to my creative, abstract side, it will lead me to where I need to go and eventually integrate all my pieces and set me free. And that once I have achieved better integrity and consistency with my outward personality, that I will finally be able to allow people that I want and whose company I enjoy to get close to me. It’s all theoretical, isn’t it? But these are my hopes, and I hope that even if I’m not physically around or if I seem to be a mess, that all those people that I’ve had deep connections with and have helped change in some way, whether friends, family or strangers, will also be there for me in spirit when I dive, and that their good will and positive energy will help me find my way home.

i am going to destroy myself this fall.

but it will be a controlled demolition.

hopefully.

forgive me.

but i’m going to disappear again.

i’ll be here as often as i can.

probably a lot.

i’m excited.

new objective

new objective as we head into the fall, a season where i am both at my strongest and most vulnerable:

when in the present, withhold talking and perceive emotionally.

let the emotions experience life without the demands, critiques and dominance of the mind.

let the heart unfold the truth of every moment and interaction.

and if the truth is painful, take that energy back to your cave and turn it into poetry.

and if the truth is beautiful, take that fear back to your cave and turn it into poetry.

and one day when you are loaded to the brim with poetry, tense with trying to hold every drop without spilling over, let yourself topple the cup and empty yourself of everything.

and perhaps, with the mastery of this task, you will set yourself free.

Damien Rice – Volcano

“Volcano”

(Damien Rice)

Don’t hold yourself like that
You’ll hurt your knees
I kissed your mouth and back
But that’s all I need
Don’t build your world around volcanoes melt you down

What I am to you is not real
What I am to you you do not need
What I am to you is not what you mean to me
You give me miles and miles of mountains
And I’ll ask for the sea

Don’t throw yourself like that
In front of me
I kissed your mouth your back
Is that all you need?
Don’t drag my love around volcanoes melt me down

What I am to you is not real
What I am to you you do not need
What I am to you is not what you mean to me
You give me miles and miles of mountains
And I’ll ask for the–

What I give to you
Is just what I’m going through
This is nothing new
No no just another phase of finding what I really need
Is what makes me bleed
And like a new disease
Lord she’s still too young to treat
Volcanoes melt me down
She’s still too young
I kissed your mouth
You do not need me

the homeless guy did a double-take as i stepped around him towards the automatic doors. his eyes widened.

“You’re a magnet.”

he squinted, as if trying to remember me from somewhere.

i quickened my stride into the store, relieved to hear the whoosh of the automatic doors closing behind me.