come down off the cross, we can use the wood

For a thing to be special, it needs to be rare. Special things are uncommon, a field of grass in the middle of the prairie is just scenery. A drop in the ocean, as they say.

The reason they make so many movies about "true love" and "soul mates" is because it isn't something that happens everyday; it is a fantasy movie about some fantasy shit, so to speak.

The measure we use to determine happiness is based on experience. If you've never been happy, a small kindness can mean the world. If all you've ever known is blissful ignorance then a minor inconvenience is a gross misfortune. This is why children over-react to everything, they simply don't know any better.

Likewise, if you've never known security then you have no idea of what safety means. If you've always been beset upon by those mean you harm, you wouldn't know a good thing if it hit you in the face (because that's normally what the bad things do).

And if you're always angry, you'll know no peace.

Experience is such a trivial thing and yet it is the lens through which we see the world.

better out than in

Life is like shit.

I didn't say life is shit, that's defeatist and no one likes a loser.

It's like shit. Sometimes it is smooth and easy and other times it rushes like the mighty Mississippi overflowing its banks.

Thinking "No, that's far too much", but when you look back on it, they're remarkably similar.

I don't know anyone that's had the life they thought they should, that's just not how those things work out. Fortunately, for the most part, shits are at least somewhat predictable. If you go out and drink a dozen high gravity lagers, you probably just signed up for a bad time. Likewise if you decide to eat a pound of cheese in one sitting. If you watch what you eat and keep that fiber up, you're gonna brag about your shits. That's just how those things work out.

But, regardless of how, what goes in must come out. Which is another similarity with this grand topic of "life", generally you get out of it what you put in to it, it's just that everything gets all mangled in the process and doesn't always resemble what you thought it would. It's the act of living that cobbles us together. Pain, illness, heartbreak, and all those other things that most folks want to avoid are actually what makes most folks who they are. The old adage of "forged in the fire" or some similar colloquialism would be apt here, though when you're in the midst of being forged none of that matters.

We must accept the shit life gives us, but only a real sick fucker would embrace it.

misquotes are hard to spot

The internet is a very dangerous place. You can get cyber-bullied or murdered online by the violent roving gangs of government agents or social justice warriors or pedophiles. Below you can find a few selected images I've chosen to illustrate how easy it is to be fooled. There are some images with words that are perhaps slightly misleading mixed amongst the factual images as well.

Misquote/mis-representation/real? You decide.

 

(Zach Braff on abortion)

 (Chewbacca on feminism)

("Super" Mario on organized crime)

(Family Circus on morality)

(Barack Obama on race relations)

(Albus Dumbledore on overcoming adversity)

(Unknown Grandmother on coping with dementia)

(Han Solo on life on his homeworld of Serenity)

(Bertrand Russell on the popular board game Sorry!)

(Larry David on politics)

(Abraham Lincoln on courage)

(Mark Twain on drugs)

an evil wizard with a magic stick...

...approaches dressed strangely in an orange vest. In his hand is a metal staff that holds the power of the gods. He unleashes it in your direction and you wince. You're confused but instinct kicks in and you start to run from the noise. There's a warmth in your shoulder suddenly swelling into a blaze of searing pain. You stumble but continue running away, fear now driving your every move. Fear now making you forget nearly everything other than get away, get back to your den to safety! It is starting to hurt when as you breathe when you hear the thunder go off once more before you finally heave into the ground.

The wizard approaches slowly. He notices you're still alive, still holding out, and raises his staff at you. The wizard lets loose the thunder before everything fades to black.

You're a bear. The wizard was a hunter. The staff was a gun and a hunter just killed you. All you were after was a bit of the whatever was giving off those alluringly sweet scents that compelled you into that luckless clearing. It was the most delicious meal you'd ever tasted and you consumed your bounty greedily, unaware of the hunter watching from nearby. He must have camouflaged the vile smell of blood-lust in his heart as he lay waiting for you to enjoy your last meal.

The bloodthirsty hunter that made an orphan of your cubs had the decency to at least let you enjoy a bar of sweet chocolate before he ended your life as surely as he ended the poor cubs back in your den. You had only gone out to get whatever it was so sweet smelling because you knew it would give you the energy to get your cubs through the winter. Now they'll die a worse death than you at the hands of that savage that was only looking to mount your head on his basement wall.

That hunter had more decency than the New Hampshire Fish and Game Commission. They voted recently to ban the hunters of their state from using chocolate as bear bait.

Bears love chocolate. Bears love all sweet things. Bears especially love honey*.


What will the New Hampshire Fish and Game Commission ban next? Honey? Bear snacks?

* Or "Hunny"

the big secret

Sometimes people look at me and ask "Hey man, what's the big secret?"

I lean back some, think it over.

I look down and then make eye contact and never break it. It lets me know if this is a serious question and demands seriousness in response.

I'll often raise my hand some, as if to say something. But, then I don't.

I ask them "You want to know about the BIG secret, eh? Reckon you're ready for that type of thing?"

Invariably, they say "Sure mister, I really do!" or something similar.



I continue staring some and then I eventually take a deep breath and tilt my head to the side. I lean in and say "Well, the BIG secret is that there is no secret, but you really shouldn't tell anybody"