Is this too Challenging for you?

Wow! Here we are just seven days away and my Challenge! is not looking good. Up to this point I still have only three entries. I mean, I used the knuckle dragging comment to incite some anger and “Fuck you!”-ness to the whole affair, but it was also supposed to be motivational. I guess it was motivation in the wrong way. Should I try and guilt you into it? Should I beg and plead and scream? Naw, fuck that. I mean, if you are reading this and know exactly what it is I am talking about then you came here to this blog and read these Challenge! related articles on your own. It’s not like I’m pestering you with unwanted junk email. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, it’s not too late to enter the Challenge! and Remember the Challenge! (scroll down) for a little alternate challenge. Thank you, by the way, for those few that have entered your submissions, you may join the other humans at the couch. I do have hope and maybe I am hitting it a bit hard because most entries for anything, usually come in at the last minute. I mean, me myself would not clean my room growing up until my mother threatened to throw everything out. So I guess I should just relax and ride it out. I mean, if most people procrastinate, odds are I’ll get at least four more, right?

Confessions of an alcohol user...

When I was much younger I used to drink quite often and quite heavily. It was young dumb escapism. I felt somehow free of some of the distractions of life and I could think more clearly (or, at least, more honestly). As the years went by it turned into a little more (or less, depending on your view). I became angry when I drank. I felt a rage I could not define, a hidden anger that I could never understand, only tap into. Up until that one night I never let it get the best of me, but I did see the smoke on the horizon. Unfortunately one night it did get the best of me. For no good reason I kicked the crap out of some poor guys yellow Porsche (okay he probably wasn’t poor if he had a Porsche) denting all of the doors, trunk, hood and any other part I could get a strike on. I’ve been in Martial Arts and played football (Soccer) for years so when I say kick, I really mean it. Now, thankfully, it wasn’t that bad. No one was physically hurt and it was only the property of someone who could afford it (or his insurance, anyway). Don’t misunderstand, I still feel terrible. What if it was something someone could not easily replace, or worse, a person or even someone I had cared about! I do appreciate the fact that it was only one night that it got the best of me. That was the last drink I had for about six months. Thankfully I have never felt a need to drink, it never felt like a crutch or an addiction. Even after that (for a while, anyway), I was pretty cautious about how much I drank. As the years went by I never saw that rage return and my drinking (as infrequently as it is being a single parent now) has returned to its original state (minus the frequency, of course); escapism and a means to clear my mind of unwanted clutter. No straight edge here, I’m a drug user and proud of it. Some of my favorite times and conversations I’ve had were when I was drunk (but not ridiculously so), a certain St. Patrick’s Day (maybe a little too drunk, but fun) comes to mind and also my 38th birthday. I was drunk for most of it (again not ridiculously so) and it ended with some great (if fairly incoherent) conversation (see: Logic versus Irrationality). Does this seem sad? I think to some of my conservative views it does (thankfully I’m undergoing shock therapy to permanently damage my Coulter gland). When I drink I am able to focus on creative things much more sharply. My mind becomes alive with possibilities that I did not see before. Is it the alcohol? Well, it does clear away some clutter for creative purposes, so I guess that’s a yes. Imagine if I did anything harder. When I was at Karl’s house the other week (drinking), his woman was about and Karl made the proclamation to her that alcohol is the morning cup of coffee to a writer. Wow! He defined why I do like to drink in one short sentence. Damn I love that man!

...is in the details.

Did we do everything that we could? Could we have tried harder? Were we patient enough? Could we have done more? Were we too patient? Does it matter? Does it ever? All of these questions, yet, we will never get definitive answers. Should we even get all of the answers? What good would it really do? Even if we get all of the answers we were looking for, they would be too complex and we would probably be left with more questions. Is life an answer, or a question? Regardless of what aspect of life we’re talking about, it all applies. Fernand Mondego was right; sometimes we’re kings and sometimes we’re pawns. The only answers we do get will have to be enough because that’s all any of us ever know. But maybe that’s the problem, or the point, we will never be satisfied with the answers, no matter what they may be. When we focus on the questions and the answers, we forget about what we got into things for in the first place. When all of the questions fade and the answers are forgotten, the only things we remember are the moments. Good or bad, that’s the part that burns itself into our minds and stays with us for years. About fifteen years ago I lived in Europe and do you know what I remember? Riding the train into Heidelberg, walking across the countryside as the sun rose while my breath became a fog out in front of my face, driving into Paris on a Sunday afternoon, the view from my sixth floor apartment, dinner and beer at the local guest house, riding my mountain bike through the nature preserve/park behind the town I lived in, and on and on. Emotional impressions and feelings, moments trapped within my mind and most of them are good. When I considered remarrying about seven years ago, I know neither of us were mature enough to handle the forces that pulled us apart, but I don’t remember many specific details to quantify that. I do remember many good moments; her scent, her hair (I loved her hair), when she titled her head and did the motorboat while looking in the mirror, how beautiful she looked even when she woke up in the morning, kicking her ass in Jeopardy, the feel of laying next to her, her smile, her coy look when she asked something she knew would embarrass me, and on and on. Despite the moments I do remember, I also know that I should have made many more good moments to remember (oh yeah, the whole immature thing). But I didn’t, I got bogged down in the details (and to some extent, so did she). So, you may be asking, “Yeah, whatever dude, are you just remorseful or does all of this have a point?” Well, “IT IS YOU THAT DOES NOT KNOW!” Oh, wait, sorry. Yes! It does have a point. Cherish the moments that you get, no matter what is going on around you. Try your best (don’t try too hard, though) and just enjoy the things that happen, assuming they’re good. Although this is one of those fortune cookie things that we’ve all heard and you may be thinking, “Yeah, I know all of this already, dumb ass.” It has been a hard lesson for me and I thought I’d write about it. I guess it’s just one of those things that you have to figure out for yourself.

The Challenge! Remember the Challenge...

Don't forget, times a tickin'. I've had a couple of entries but not very many.

Here is the original post: Challenge!

Here again are your challenges three...

1.) A Haiku, about anything you want.

2.) Your favorite artistic work and why. (Painting, book, movie, music, etc.)

3.) Your biggest role models and why.

Since many people have reacted in consternation regarding the Haiku challenge, here is an alternative...

1A.) Take the following sentence: "It was a dark and stormy night." and turn it into a paragraph that doesn't suck in a literary sense. (Warning: this is possibly more challenging than the Haiku)

All entries can be emailed to Adam-Lavey@hotmail.com or my regular email if you have it.

I will also complete the alternate. Please have your entry in by the 31st of October (new date).

Just Smart Enough to be Stupid. or Grow Up Already!

Ever since that woman gave that man that piece of fruit that neither of them was supposed to have, humankind has been on a quest to destroy God. Or, at least we should be.

“Wha-? Hey Adam, that’s a bit harsh. Didn’t the apple just represent knowledge?” You ask.

Well, no. The apple was the representation of what separates us humans from animals. Knowledge is just an accumulation of facts. More importantly, the apple represented imagination and free will. The ability to see what different choices could bring and the ability to make different choices not based on our environment.

“You’re fucking cracked. Who cares, as long as I get mine. I don’t see your point and I don’t even want to read your boring shit.”

Yeah, you’re probably right. It probably is boring. But you should care because if you don’t then you are an animal. Animals get theirs or they die. That’s it, that’s all there is. Squirrels get their nuts or they starve. Lions get their antelope or they die. Humans get their Hummers or they, hmm, or they, uh, well I guess they don’t die. Then why do they feel the need to get theirs? Oh yeah, most can’t figure out how to live beyond their environment. It’s less deadly but much more complex, or at least that’s what they want you to think (yes the mythical and ambiguous “they”).

“What the-? Are you on drugs? You’re not even making any sense, man! My bills get paid, I got my cell phone and my hi-def TV and my video game system. I even have a little bit left over to blow money on gambling every once in a while. You don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

Well, actually I do know what I’m talking about. It’s you that does not know. Maybe I am not expressing my ideas coherently enough. Most humans live in a carefully constructed environment in which they created. Humans have trapped themselves and the advent of more entertainment technologies is supplicating human free will.

“Man, what the fuck? I have choices and I can make choices. I choose what I want to wear, what I eat, what I watch and even what interest I want to pursue. Technology is not evil, it’s good and it is freeing humanity. Go ahead and prove me wrong.”

Well, I can’t. Not really, only because your argument is flawed. Technology is not evil nor good, it is neutral. It is a tool and nothing more. It is our use of it that I am questioning. While some entertainment can touch us in different ways, make us think, force us to ask questions of ourselves and make us use our imagination beyond what we are used to, it can also go the other direction. It can desensitize us and it’s sometimes escapist allure can cause us to forget what is important.

“Alright, now I know you’re cracked. You defined and proved my point, even if you added a little of the down side to it. Also, what do you mean by forgetting what is important?”

Ah, yeah, did you forget already, to destroy God. Admittedly the word “destroy” is a bit harsh (and I used it to generate a little intrigue). More accurately, to destroy the need for God. That’s the meaning of life and it should be the goal of all humans.

“What the fuck are you talking about? God made us and he loves us and we need him, always. That’s just how it works.”

Yeah, okay. Let me give you an example: I know three atheists and two agnostics very well. Well enough to know quite a bit about their inner workings, how they think and what they believe as far as day to day living goes. All five (not one or two or three, all five!) of these people have essentially destroyed their need for God on some level. All of them have some of the highest values I know of. All of them believe in doing what is right. All them believe in self improvement. None of them are really materialistic. All of them want the world to be a better place and generally try to help (on their small level) achieve that end. Yet, none of them, not a single one, believe that they will die and go to heaven or hell based on their actions in this life. What is stopping these five people from being hedonistic, greedy and materialistic? (okay, one of them is fairly hedonistic) I know lot’s of religious people (my dear mother being one) that live in a “ride the bike until the wheels fall off” attitude. They don’t really regard anyone else very much. They are generally self centered and materialistic. Make choices based on status and appearance and think that God will generally take care of them and that it will be alright in the end, because they believe.

“That’s a bunch of horse shit! You could have picked those five people out of any number just to prove your point. And not all religious people are that bad. Some are pretty good, if a bit weird.”

Okay, fair argument. I only used those five because I know them really well. I know many more that are pretty much the same way. I only know one atheist that is fairly materialistic and has a “get what I can get attitude”. That would be my dear old Dad. Despite this, he is still always willing to help and as he gets older, he has shedded much of his self centered and materialistic beliefs. But why, he doesn’t believe he is going to hell?

“I’m sure I don’t know and I’m also sure you’re dying to tell me.”

I think of it like this. If we put it into religious terms and assume certain aspects of religion and God is real, what would be the point of existence. Maybe on some cosmic level we are God’s children and it is his goal to raise us (as a race) until we no longer need him as a parent. Maybe God is just a cosmic father figure. It is his goal for us to exist and perpetuate without him. (Yeah, more than a few Sci-Fi novels have used this premise in some form, check out E.E.”Doc” Smith for a pretty good example of this) And like any parent, if most of us don’t succeed individually, he’ll still pretty much take care of those children too.

“What the fuck? Are you on acid?”

Nope, never done it. My only point is, we as humans should strive to destroy our need for God. Not spirituality, not morals or ethics or values. Those we need and the more mature we become, the more naturally they occur to us (I’m talking big picture, as the human race). If we can’t figure out how to use our imagination and free will to decide for ourselves. Everything in the book of revelations (or any other end of the world story) will come true simply because we have hundreds of thousands of stupid ass Neo-Conservatives (many of which are in government office) that cannot live beyond their environment and are literally creating a self fulfilling prophecy because, “Halleluiah!” they fucking believe. Y’know the ones I’m talking about. These are the same ones that are also starting up schools which will soon pump out Christian Radicals in the next five to ten years (I swear I’m not making this shit up). Too much blood has already been shed in Jesus’ name. Actually if you read about him (even that bibley stuff) he was a fairly cool cat that believed in many of the same things that my atheist and agnostic friends practice every day.

Of course I could be completely off base and we could just regress into a scene from Lord of the Flies.

“Dumb ass. It’s late and I got church in the morning. I’m outta here, as soon as I remember where I parked my Cadillac.”

Experiencing Technical Difficulties...

Writing is funny today, but not funny ha-ha. Okay, bad cliché, but it’s true. I tried to write a much more serious blog but it cut too close to home. “Hey asshole, those make the best kind!” You yell at your computer screen. Rightly so and usually true, however, simply writing some things down is a big part of airing it out. It doesn’t mean I have to share it with you. Besides, these things (of which you may or may not know anything about) are circular, meaning that they have an answer yet continue to cause frustration. I (and probably also you) don’t learn anything from them. They are not new and they do not do anything constructive. They are circles, vicious ones. So go fuck yourself! Start your own damned blog so I can write some comments to you. Or (and probably much more likely) leave a comment because you already have a blog. I love you all and I hate you equally. Right! Off you go!

This one goes out to...

I had a pretty fucked day. At least the first half; some bullshit, some truth, some misdirection and even some deduction. My friend Karl Bakla helped by allowing me to vent a bit then making me laugh with his trademark robot/magnetic pulse dance (and skateboarding antics). Overall it was a downer but within I felt kind of an inner peace and strength (don't worry, I'm not going all religious on yuh) and it made me feel pretty fucking good. I also felt mad, not the abstract agony and frustration of fierce blind rage, but mad. Mad like I could consciously decide to destroy something and do it meticulously. Now, I am old enough and have enough values to understand that this kind of thing can lead to regret and possibly jail time. The point is, feeling this way gave me a strange sense of peace and freedom. It reminded me that I am alive and I can feel and I can act and above all, I have a choice. The rest of the day really started to seem pretty fucking good. Then I ran into fellow blogger and friend Lady Poverty. I have always thought of her as a very attractive young woman and today was no exception. However, she did look a bit frayed and had a hard edge to her face. She told me what was going on and seemed a bit better for it (glad I could help). Later on I visited her at Seattle’s Best Coffee inside the fabulous Stardust and ordered the bane of all baristas (because it doesn’t exist, at least not with a real cappuccino) the dreaded Iced Cappuccino. I did it for a laugh and she reciprocated, we chatted a bit and she did seem a little better than earlier. Then, something wonderful happened (no, she didn’t flirt with me or give me her number!). One of her fellow baristas produced... The Iced Cappuccino! It was fantastic! It made for a very laugh filled few moments and certainly completed a turn around for my day! Anyway, I know it’s no painting, but here is another (smaller and simpler) work of art, just for Lady Poverty...

Iced cappuccino
All cold with a bunch of foam
Good enough to drink
Hot foam over cold ice milk
Watch out for diarrhea!

Long form Haiku. Yes, it’s supposed to be stupid and if she and/or you are smiling then mission accomplished.

A Long Day or How I Shucked the Responsibilities My Bosses Placed In Me And Fucked Off With Karl Bakla All Day!

The day started like any other, up at 3am, shit, shower, shave and make my way to the coffee house I work at (y’know, Seattle’s Best Coffee). During my four and a half hours serving coffee my mind was filled with thoughts of all the crazy shit that’s been going on in my life lately (actually it’s always filled with thoughts, I wish I could just not think for a while, it would be helpful, too bad I don’t use anything stronger than aspirin or alcohol). I left Seattle’s Best and arrived at the Stardust thinking it would be a day like any other (y’know, more thinking about everything that’s going in the whole wide world). Then I noticed my partner for the day was none other than Karl Bakla! Hell Ya! Fast forward to 5:40pm, I was leaving the Stardust, walking out with my Backdoor Breaker Inners T-shirt on, the June issue of The Inner Swine in one hand and a stack of Haiku’s in the other (more on these later) and a completely “Fuck it all!” attitude. I realized I’ve just had one hell of a great fucking day! I was feeling pretty goddamned punk rock and I’m not even sure what that means. Despite every little detail that should drag my soul into a black hell, I’m in a great fucking mood! Why? You ask. Well, I’ll fucking tell you. After a busy first half hour or so, Karl and I had a moment (no, not a Chasing Amy moment, okay, well maybe) and he asked for clarification on what a Haiku is. Once I told him, Karl lifted his arms and fists above his head and screamed, “Haiku Battle!” Yeah, that’s all it took. For the next seven hours we proceeded to have a Haiku fight (and worked a little, I guess). He wrote one and then I, back and forth. It made the day fun and I even stopped thinking about all of the other stuff for a while. Here is an account of that seven hour battle.

“Cry Havoc! And Let Slip The Haiku’s of War!”

Karl: Long Form Haiku (5-7-5-7-7)

Rub it on my face
Satan’s hell stink on my flesh
Show love for satan
Who are you to judge my love
For heavy metal music (Kind of funny words from an atheist)

Adam:

So I think you stink
Your fragrance is quiet unique
It burns in my nose
And it really curls my toes
So take a bath you ingrate

Karl:

Drive your damn Hummer
You disgusting piece of shit
You make me wanna puke (He fucked up, this one isn’t a Haiku and I rejected it and stole the initiative!)

Adam: Short form Haiku (5-7-5)

He is a shadow
Mitchell Marr has sold his soul
To the company

Karl:

You are so ugly
Test positive for VD
I really hate you

Adam:

How well do I suck
Customer cock in my throat
You do it better

Karl:

Fisted in the ass
Oh suffering succotash
How ‘bout my ass

Adam:

Your poems are so weak
If you would go eat some steak
Your brain would work right

Actual photo of Adam LaVey

Karl: (who proclaimed that now it was really on)

Mister down syndrome
You have inverted penis (I wanna know who told him!)
Gay like John Waters

Adam:

You know how to twist
When you sit on my penis
Too bad I have crabs

Karl:

You ate Cragma out (an old masculine lady we work with)
Can’t suck my dick don’t pout
Another’s in your mouth

Karl: (Stole back the initiative)

To bad you have AIDS
Yeah hurrah! You will die soon
Rock Hudson lover

Adam:

Your words are so gay
And they suck really bad too
Yes literally

Karl:

Sucked off Elton John (True)
Liberace’ sucked your dick
Test yourself for AIDS

Adam:

You like brown eye stink
When pooters give you a wink
You drool and you faint

Karl:

Bend over and spell run
Launch your wiener in my ass
No not slow but fast

Adam:

When good fags go bad
Vaginas are to be had
But you stick with fist

Karl:

Stupid dick for nose
Your penis is inverted (again?)
Your butthole is gay

Adam:

My words from my cache
Continue to kick your ass
Just give up dumb ass

Karl:

Sniffing the panties
Going through my dirty clothes
This is my fetish

Adam:

While working the floor
I’ve been covering your calls
Get to work butt head

Karl:

Take off your clothes now
Slurping cum is not homo
Free your mind explore

Adam:

Go twist on the fist
You’re a greasy pork sandwich
You hairy monkey

Karl:

You are a Gypsy (also true)
Nomadic charlatan trick
Kill with Zyclom-B

Actual Photo of Karl Bakla

Adam:

You know you are gay
With make-up like Tammy Faye
And Rod Stewart says “Hey!”

Karl:

Crasskins and Adam
Were caught fucking each other
They are now lovers

Adam:

Just ‘cause your mother
Is ashamed of her lover
She does not need to lie

Karl:

I really hate work
I would rather fuck Adam
Adam is sexy

Adam:

Buttfucking with Karl
While raw and painful
Can’t be worse than work
It won’t last nearly as long
Plus he’ll pay six hundred bucks

Yes, stupid, silly and inane. I guess sometimes meaningless things can be fun. I know it sure made my day a whole helluva lot better! Almost as good as this photo of Kung Fu Jesus. I don’t even care if one of us won the battle. The whole thing is nostalgic and it was a blast.

Challenge!

Okay, let’s really get silly! (so silly it rhymes, I agree, that was bad) Make sure you read all the way through!

“What is this?” You ask. “Are you resorting to silly puns and stupid games?” Is your follow up. No! And Yes! The feedback from my Crash Test Dummies blog gave me this idea. While your answers may open you up for undo criticism, it will be fun and I strongly encourage you to bash and trash myself (Yes, I must complete the challenges also) and any of the answers you read. Why? Because I am a firm believer in the fastest way to personal growth is through brutal honesty in a safe (or unsafe) environment, with jokes! And what’s safer than a blog in which no one knows who you really are (Well, okay some of us know each other)? I’m serious about this... I love brutal honesty, I have always preferred a punch to the face then a stab in the back. Sometimes when I tell people this, they don’t believe me (you know who you are) but I swear it’s true! “C’mon! Don’t try and hit me! Hit me!” Here are my challenges three...

1.) A Haiku, about anything you want.

2.) Your favorite artistic work and why. (Painting, book, movie, music, etc.)

3.) Your biggest role models and why.

Okay, some of the challenges seem pretty damned stereotypical. But that’s the challenging part. How do you answer these in non-stereotypical ways. You have to use your head and your mind and your brain. Other than for humor, I really want you to think about your answers. If I get very few replies, I’ll take that as a sign that most humans actually are animals and incapable of rational thought and imagination. Tell your friends and loved ones! It is simply a choice... Make this an article that is fun and interesting and larger than the sum of the entries or doom it to crap. Hey, I did my part.

All entries can be emailed to adam-lavey@hotmail.com or my regular email address if you already know it. Give me a handle that you go by (or it will default to your email name. All answers will be posted in about two weeks, on or soon after the 24th of October.

Meaningless or Meaningful

Recently someone said the word, “Meaningless...” to me. They said it in a positive way as if there is nothing wrong with being meaningless. That person is right, something without meaning also is without substance and therefore is not wrong. It is also not right. It is, by definition, meaningless. My argument was thus (although admittedly I started this argument at that time, I barely touched upon it as I became focused on another task) Things without meaning are also pointless. It can be argued that while no bad can come out of such things, no good can come from such things either. When I was young, I didn’t understand what these two words really meant (meaningless and meaningful, in case you forgot) I felt that the only things that were really important, revolved around my personal sense of physical, emotional and spiritual comfort. In other words, I was a self absorbed and self centered prick. As I got older, I realized my line of thinking was flawed because no one would stay in a relationship (friendship or otherwise) with someone like that (at least not a good relationship). Therefore, all of my actions and decisions became meaningless because they did not benefit anyone, not even me. As I got older still, I began to understand that making others feel valued was a key to making myself feel valued. These things have meaning. I eventually decided to try to fill my life with things that were meaningful. The reasons are simple to me...

If I were to go around and do meaningless things without regard for myself or others, my very existence becomes meaningless. Within my meaningless existence, if I even tried to do things of meaning or have meaningful relationships, my actions would be viewed as meaningless (or at the very least selfish) by others. Trust me, I’ve already been there.

If I try to cultivate meaningful relationships and do meaningful actions towards others, then my existence becomes meaningful and then even apparently meaningless actions have meaning.

I, by no means, believe that every single thing anyone does, can or even should have meaning. On the contrary, sometimes meaningless things can be good, in the right context and for the right reasons (which, in turn gives them some kind of meaning) or even bad for all of the same reasons. Meaningless or meaningful, I guess it is just a choice.

“To Be or Not to Be.” (or) To Coherently Articulate or To Compose Literature!

Very recently I had a meaningful conversation. Nothing too crazy but it seemed important enough for all parties involved to be clear. Ultimately we were clear and expressed ourselves (more or less) how we intended. The whole exercise of it made me think. Mostly I thought about how terrible I am at talking about things. It’s really quite funny to me. I can turn on my computer, boot up the ol’ word processor and literally type for hours (which I have been known to do) about anything. Religion, politics, Bush, assholes I work with, relationships, friends, science fiction, sex, sadomasochism, movies, sex movies, internet porn, regular porn, Veronica Moser, coffee, wine, sub-dom, food, hell anything really, important or not. I can be concise or verbose. Get to my point quickly or meander around it, leading others on a path to discover it for themselves. It has always been easier for me to tell people exactly what it is that I want to say if I could just fucking type it! Why? Is it because once I type something it becomes permanent? Naw, I could just hit backspace and delete it. Is it because once I put all my thoughts down, organize them how I want and then let people read them, they are able to see them in their entirety, re-read parts they glossed over and see into what I’m really feeling at that moment? Well, maybe that’s the first part of it. Is it because I am just a poor conversationalist? No and yes. I think the second part is something that I was told about myself years ago when I received a battery of tests and was presented with the results at the ripe old age of 13 (they used to do that stuff back in the 70’s and early 80’s). I really didn’t think about it at the time (or understand it for that matter) but it stuck with me. (Actually almost all of it stuck with me as I didn’t really ever forget anything back then.) Among all of the things the counselor told me, one of them was... “...show an aptitude for non-linear thinking and abstract comprehension.” Hmm, okay, non-linear thinking and abstract comprehension. I remember those bullshit terms quite clearly. “Okay, but what does that mean?”
“That means that you have a capacity to see several details of a problem all at once.” “Wow! So I should be good in math?” (which I wasn’t, at all)
“What it means is that you are able to see several ideas from different viewpoints all at once.” (Another thing I remember clearly) Okay, so what he was really saying (as I realized later) was that I will be operating on overload most of the time because I will not be able to focus on any one thought. I will see it all in my head at once and get easily confused, or at the very least, need a few moments to sort them all out. Actually, I realized much later (as I often do.) that this explained quite a bit about why I was, the way I was. Speaking is a relatively fast paced linear activity, it is like an automatic machine gun firing off an entire clip. Words come out in a row and if you aim, they hit their target. I see all of the targets at once and I want to shoot them all at once (just ask my old tank commanders, they’ll say it’s true) and I end up not hitting shit. When I try to speak and I let it flow, it just goes all over the place and I have a very hard time getting my point across because I’m hitting others with a barrage of details that may or may not be part of the point (Just ask my ex-wife, even my daughter, close friends, co-workers, parents, Crasskins, Karl or anyone whom I’ve had more than a few conversations with.) Jumping around between ideas, to and fro, then sometimes not even remembering the original point! Anyway, I’m not typing this because I’m getting on some Tom Cruise like soap box and crying, “Wah, I’m dyslexic, love me!” because all of you (all 8 or 9 of ya) either love me or not already. What I am saying is with writing I am able to spew all of these thoughts out there, arrange them how I want and make them more coherent. Also, the more I write the more focused I am in what I want to type because it is a slower, more meticulous, activity and I am able to organize most of my thoughts before I even type them. Just some random thoughts from a random thinker. Now, if I can just make a living with my keyboard...