The Sandbox

I know too many people that worry about finding reason. They don't understand that reason is relative to an individual, not a situation. That knowledge alone is a freedom, one many our age should be taking liberties with. What you do and who you are may never coincide, but what you become because of it certainly will. Don't do it if you don't want to. Let's spare religion and contain ourself to this physical world. In the world we inhabit, between the course of birth to death, what mandates must we follow?

Life is short and without point. That fact is not sad.

That knowledge alone should gives license to do whatever you feel like, for all the time you have. If not, you should be ashamed.

Just because you're twenty three doesn't mean you've stopped learning. You studied business - go into physical therapy. You've always watched Law and Order - try out CSI. Hey - masturbate with your opposite hand.

Life is those same stomping grounds we used to play as a child. You see your growth as a change to the parameters. Not true. In the sandbox, you could do practically anything. Confined in a four by four square, a child is able to go to the beach, travel through space ship, and make sand pies. If I trap you in a four mile by four mile area, you'd be lost. That's regression.

If you can't call upon that same spark of the sandbox, where anything was possible, your life will go on unnoticed. Your size will always be limited, as will your time. Be sure to do something with what you have. It doesn't have to count, but it should be yours. We are not born into this world to make others happy.

Remember Your Lincoln

What a brilliant pairing of words: "Love Changes". To have something so small cross and cover an infinitely vast canyon of meaning is like reading alongside the Green Power Ranger Of Literature. Sure, the other power rangers are tough, but we all know the Green was the best. You don't even have to be a fan of him to admit that.

Love Changes. Now who among you remembers their Lincoln? The belief that such a tightly built series of words could differ their meaning, dependent solely on what time of life the reader was in. What? You... you don't remember your Lincoln? That man only took a bullet for you, and pretended slaves weren't okay. The least you could do is acquaint yourself with his... nevermind. They're making a movie out of it sometime soon. I think with Liam Neeson. For those who can't wait, I'll refresh:

"It is said an Eastern monarch once charged his wise men to invent him a sentence to be ever in view, and which should be true and appropriate in all times and situations. They presented him the words: 'And this, too, shall pass away.' How much it expresses! How chastening in the hour of pride! How consoling in the depths of affliction!"

It's one of those things you can't appreciate unless you're manic depressive. Or smart. And I mean book smart, not like 'can cook a kilo of meth into two'-type street smart. Lord knows I'm neither. I mean - of the smarts - I'm clearly manic depressive bi-polar omnisexual klepto.

But how cool is that? Love Changes gives the hopeless romantic proof something inside can altered by the simple presence of love. For the bitter, it could mean nothing ever stays the same. The old see the qualifiers changed, and the young still see cooties everywhere. Dan hates cooties and he's 21.

But to have something that will always posses meaning, that has got to be power. Feel good about that.

Reminders for class: I'd pay that much to clear my head.

Music for you to like

Click the Pic For Good Tunes

OK NEWS!!!!

I got the best email of my life the other day. I knew it was spam when I checked the inbox, but I had to open it. The title simply said 'Ok News'.

I'm not a thinking man, but if you had to send an email knowing that whether or not the person opening it would judge solely on its title, would you put that as your opener? 'Ok News'?

Probably not. You're brighter than me, so you'd say it was some type of email news that was great, amazing, or possibly fantastic. Pffft. That's why I wouldn't open your email. In fact, I would block you and spike your server just to make sure you knew I don't like being toyed with. Not when it comes to news.

Nobody ever rushes out to tell their friends when it comes to your regular, just OK News. Why? Because it's only Ok News, not shatteringly important stuff. 'You know if you're pants don't fit, buy a different size.' "Ok, thanks. "

But this emailer booked it to make sure I knew what was the lowdown on the already known. Inside it said:

"Having trouble getting or keeping an erection? Try Viagra."

And that was it. No sales pitch, no link to click on, and no more than that one line. It made me so happy. Amazingly happy. I mean, I have around 534 unread messages in my inbox; how did he and I find this connection? Somehow this guy broke through my amazing spam blocker at Excite and fixated itself right at the top of my list.

I felt a special connection to this person. My hands tingled and my keyboard was bursting with possibility. Would I return the email? Let him know how much I appreciated this unfamiliar love?

People! Think about this: someone out there - God knows where - made it his or her very personal concern to make sure my erections were coming in the way they should. I hate to say it, but I wish my real friends were like this. Chad or Alex would never bust down my door when I'm handling the garden tools. They'd never say 'Hey, that erection in your hands: How is it really doing?' Maybe that would open up some sort of dialogue that would change the nature of our relationship. Maybe they'd mention something about checking myself for testicle cancer, or thinking about baseball to sustain durability. I would thank them for such advice. We'd become closer. Ah, but who knows? They've never tried. I doubt they even care about my erections.

But this emailer wanted to make sure everything is working. My friends wouldn't, but OK NEWS would. OK NEWS is the kind of friend I wish I had. All of us should take a page from The OK NEWS. We might find out that your average news is a little more than OK. We'd find out that it's great.

Reminders: If everyone on the planet was as nice as whoever sent this email, I'm pretty sure we'd be without war.

Simpler

At one point in my life, the only problems I had were finding polite ways to turn down threesomes. This fact is simultaneously - A) Not a lie B) The only cool thing to ever happen to me C) Oddly disturbing, yet inspirational.

I think somewhere muddled in me is a romantic who finds the idea of multiple partners simultaneously only cool in porno. Not pornos I've made, but ones I've downloaded or rented featuring soulless - but attractive - husks inserting things into places where said things were- and still are - never meant to go. Case in point?: Corn on the cob. It just doesn't go there.

But in real life, I don't think you should ever attempt a trist between three or four people. Maybe five or more is fine, because EVERYONE will be doing something, but three or four feels like someone will be left out. Now let's just say, for the sake of argument, I have five things that could feasibly be used in such an activity.

WAIT - you say - how five? How can there be five usable appendages?
I'll tell you how. Elbows and Toes.
That is plain sick.
Hey, I'm not the one in the middle of an orgy.
Yes, yes, you are.
No, this is imaginary.
No, this is real.
Hypothetical. I said I wouldn't and so it hasn't.
Bah to you. It's real.
No, I'm saying for this I would be acting on your behalf.
Where did you say that?
I'm saying it now.
This is gross.
No, you know what's gross? Thinking you could pleasure someone with an elbow. You make me sick.
You're the one that said it would work.
Hypothetically. Now you sit here and are completely ready to go out and try it.
No we're not.
Shut up! Yes you are.
I'm done reading you.
I'm done telling you orgies of less than five people are formationally unsound.
Gross.
Screw you, I've never done it. I've just done the research.
What, your wrist hurt?
What do you know? Ever sit through gay porn? DO YOU KNOW HOW EAGER THEY LOOK?!?!
Please stop.
Oh, who wants to hear it now? Huh? You're the one that's willing to participate in a sexual fiasco.
That was you.
I declined it! That was the point of all this!
You know what, I'm going to CNN.com to avoid this. I'm not talking to you anymore.
Whatever.
[pause]
Quit bringing her up.
God, you sick fuck.
Berate me; great. I'm going to go watch Foster's and eat Fruity Pebbles.
Who's mature now?
Eat my ass.
You'd like that.

I remember simpler times when all I had to worry about was politely turning down threesomes and not having conversations with myself.

Reminders for class: No, I haven't watched them.