Begin the Begin.

The Olympic Truce

2008-08-08T20:59:00.000-07:00

I am a sports fan. For better or worse I enjoy competition and believe that when correctly applied it can be extremely healthy both physically and mentally. This does not include pressurizing soccer moms or football dads, it does not include things like grooming your 4 year old to be the next huge endorsement-filled megastar. I believe that kids should play what they like and if they continue to enjoy it and excel then it is right that there is a proper stage for them to compete and even earn a living. After all, it is the most visceral entertainment because it is not an act- its really happening.

Obviously I'm thinking about this because I watched the opening ceremonies in Beijing tonight. I was not 100% behind the idea that China, given their atrocious human rights record (followed closely by the U.S. in my book) should be allowed the honor of hosting such a historically significant (and profitable) event. After watching the opening- the stunningly beautiful spectacle that centered around the theme "One World, One Dream" I could not be more excited at China's effort. They spent something around 55 billion dollars to put on a games that saw the Chinese character for "harmony" repeatedly used in the opening performance. It was literally written and figuratively illustrated by the thousands of children, dancers and artists of all types used in the piece. The show seemed much more than entertainment- you could feel the hopes of the billion-plus Chinese people behind each jump, spin, and tai-chi movement.

Until tonight, I wasn't sure I would watch much of the Olympics even though sports is the ultimate reality show. I didn't know if I believed in the drama of a world event, whether I could suspend the cynicism that creeps in about performance-enhancers and blood doping and fascist-trained kids competing for national glory. I still think even the opening act could be an elaborate propaganda piece approved by some shady Chinese minister of information. For now I have shelved all those thoughts. There is a beauty in this competition, yet for myself it isn't about who wins the most medals- it is about the spirit of the individuals sweating under hot lights and a fuzzy blanket of smog. It is about the lessons of winning, and the wisdom of losing and all the emotions in-between. It is about challenges and willpower and overcoming. It is about hope becoming real like a ragman winning the lottery.

The Olympics offer a chance for a world-sized pause. If China can teach people about coming together, anything can happen. Tonight I will concentrate on that idea before I sleep so that I can figure it all out in my dreams.

Zen-fest

2008-08-06T13:07:00.000-07:00

I am not a religious person. When I say that I mean that I don't believe in the organized version of spirituality- the checklist of things you can do to get to heaven or the black list of things guaranteed to earn you a straight shot to hell. I don't believe that the number of times you go to church or whether you don't eat meat on Fridays during Lent or whether you pray the rosary each day while reading the bible means anything when it comes to what type of person you are.

This belief may have been a by-product of the 12 years of catholic school that I was subjected to in my formative years. It may be because the more I research the religions of the world as an adult the more I find they are just as fallible and hypocritical as any atheist or agnostic. This belief may be due to the fact that organized religion seems to bring about more war than peace, more death than relief from suffering, more ignorance and inflexibility than wisdom. There is just as much violence in the bible as in any new television show or video game.

But, I digress.
The point of this entry is not to dwell on the merits of religion, because as useless as it is to me I am sure it is not only useful but life-changing and good for some people in the world. I am also sure that being involved in religion at an early age helped me define my own morals. Perspective and relativity should apply in any discussion of something as personal as religion.
Me?
I pick ideas from different theisms that are useful to me. The yin-yang concept from Taoism (and also the duality Zoroastrianism) helps me understand that good & evil are rooted in the same place and co-dependent; cyclical and mutual. For myself it is about placing the chaos of life in context so that it never seems too good, or too bad. Life just is.

This is why I enjoy reading and writing haiku. Haiku is my meditation. Haiku is a way to place things where they should reside. I wrote these the other night:
***
love's limits unknown
walking barefoot in lush green
evil here unseen.
***
small inspiration
like jelly for arms and legs
bricks are becoming.
***
smiling without teeth
the earth is just as hollow
emblazoned with love.
***
fishnet lust is trust
that creation continued
unbound, sexy, free.
***
take a break stallion
pause the panting hyper breath
see the sun rise pink.
***
(I didn't say they were any good, just that they are theraputic.)

Mondays/Mon-daze.

2008-08-04T12:37:00.000-07:00

Being the betting man that I am I'd have to put heavy odds that the world's least favorite day of the week is Monday. The obvious reason is that it signals the beginning of the work week- at least for most of us in this country it is an end to a couple days break from obligations. It is the start of 5 or 6 days dominated by monotony and scheduling, of 'shooting the breeze' and looking busy, of lunch breaks and employee memos.

Monday reminds us that we are years away from retirement. It shows us a tiny light at the end of a dark tunnel that disappears when we stare at it too long. But.

But today wasn't just any Monday in Wisconsin. Today, there was a thunderstorm! It rained, and not only does this feed the greenery, but it saves workers from their monotony- weather is a hot topic you know. Once again, I would bet heavily that it was the topic of the day. Never mind the hundreds of millions of dollars wasted in Iraq today, or the fact that over 26,000 children from around the world die each DAY from preventable causes (1 every 3 seconds) or the environmental lines we've crossed past the 'point of no return'.

If we were all thinking about any of this actively, no work would get done- and that cannot happen- we must float on. Maybe Tuesday we will have time to address the problems and their root causes.

Instead, I like to numb myself to forget those pains. I wrote this on one of those Tuesdays:

i think.

and what dances on my brain is like fireflies blinking blind as they are,

amid darkness thick like syrup.

simple short flashes of things just out of reach- just out of grasp.

(she was there, but i would not admit that to the public) ever.

i am digging up the graves of long-dead zombies

just to look into their infinately empty eyes.

i drink-

reliving all those moments lost previous

all the last kisses and lost highways

all the empty-stomach friendships

and endless loops of sadness.

i take, and give, and take.

for me, it seems all a sieve.

---------------

Our History in Blood.

2008-08-01T13:42:00.000-07:00

Today is the first day of August, 2008. I've always enjoyed the turning of months because it helps my mind locate where we are within the year. August always reminds me that the summer is finite- and that the end of fun and sun is near. That being said, it usually encourages me to cram as much in as I can before the inevitable "Labor Day Blowout." If asked I would have to say August 1st is usually a good day- a day to look forward to a month jammed with cool.

Along these lines, I spent part of the day reading outside. It was sunny, cloudless and not too windy this morning in Wisconsin. The beginning of a good day- until I got into the meat of the book I had chosen: Naomi Klein's "The Shock Doctrine: The Rise of Disaster Capitalism." First of all, this book is amazing. Being somewhat of a history buff (in that I like to know what has happened 'lest we repeat it') and also interested in what the hell really got us into Iraq and all the sticky international situations we now find ourselves- this book gets perfectly to the root of the problem: the theory of perfectly privatized, free-market economics.

Now, that may sound boring and overly technical but Klein's writing is engaging and clear. The bottom line is since the 50's economists in the US have been using Milton Friedman's theory of free-market capitalism (deregulation, privatization, elimination of social programs) to crack open previously unreachable socialist markets around the world in order to profit from them. What started as a brand new en vogue idea by economists, got the backing of politicians and philanthropists and think-tanks. The theory in itself is not the problem- it was (and still is) the implementation of it that promoted social upheaval, unemployment, riots, the suspension of human rights- and yes: thousands and thousands of needless deaths around the world.

From Brazil to Argentina, Bolivia to Russia, to China to Indonesia and Korea- death and disenfranchisement followed everywhere these "experts" went.

You will have to actually pick up the book to understand the intricacies, but suffice to say it doesn't paint a very nice picture of our politicians, media, or business people throughout history. There is blood on our hands we don't even know about.

It is so common to hear about this type of things these days- about things our goverment has either done or turned a blind eye to- that I really only let it ruin today; August 1st. Tomorrow there will be something else, but hey- we must smile on and try to make it better.

I wrote this to help diffuse my anger:

the terrorists have won, go out and beat a drum, the terrorists have won.

fear is their currency and blood is their ally

look around and see the signs- the terrorists have won.

too scared to speak up when our government lies

too afraid to stand up when our jobs jump over borderlines

too out of practice in defiance

too fat to exercise

the terrorists have won.

if you don't believe it just look at how your state is run

cameras everywhere- your cellphone is tracking every bit of fun

more prisons than schools, more TV than public pools

keep the kids inside until they pay taxes or can be drafted.

make no mistake, the terrorists have won.

the terrorists have won because you cannot help but drive

the terrorists have won because god forbid the market takes a dive

the terrorists have won because you can't remember what it is to be alive.

we are so afraid, we look away from all the mistakes we've made- the terrorist have won.

---------

Don't worry, (smile!) tomorrow is another day.

Jim's Journal

2008-07-28T14:42:00.000-07:00

This is my first post.

As I stared at the white box thinking about what to write and trying not to think about how egotistical it is thinking that anyone would enjoy reading it, all I could think of was the comic strip "Jim's Journal."

I'm not sure new strips are being published anymore, but I have to say that the simplicity in the humor was completely perfect. Not only is it funny, but it lives in that everyday "Seinfeld" land that lets most people in on the joke. Jim's a realist, and funny as hell. If I was a true disciple, my first post would read just that: this is my first post. And that would be all.

But. I am not versed enough in writing to be able to convey a point that clearly. This blog is going to be quite a ramble at times, and I do ask your patience- here's to hoping it has a point.

Well. This is something I wrote the other night:

today I am as earthbound as ever.

chained.

boxed in.

locked down with my bare feet sticking closely to the ground, as if the cement is stalking my toes and won't take no for an answer.

jumping?

that is something done for joy, but today I am self-directed- self-employed.

today the only escape is inward; the interior that I have previously attempted to destroy- drink by sip, shot by gulp, gallon by ounce.

do pickled brains sound appetizing? are they an aphrodesiac in japan?

if destruction is some type of fertilizer, then call me a gardener- a steward of people grown from rocky, muddy clay.

if I am destined to create something from nothing, today is the day.

I pretend to be the prophet sitting beneath the tree unmoved by the unholy weather,

by the wind and driving rain- emptying his head and staying as still as stone.

I am like the wanderer walking for weeks with only water waiting for a spirit animal- a vision to ponder.

today I am somber, eyes closed wide and ready- earthbound and steady.

This was my first blog post. It was "ok."