a hero...
Our teacher's name was Mrs. Brewer. She didn't like her name, but we were still forced to call her by it, because she didn't provide us any options. It was fourth grade. That grade when boys are supposed to understand that all girls came with a large amount of cooties. Such a large amount of cooties, that they were to be avoided at all costs.
I had a secret though. I was in "love" with a girl. Her name was Lisa. She had brown hair and brown eyes, and sat close to me in Mrs. Brewer's class. I did whatever it took to get her attention. But the problem was, I had competition. There were other boys like me, who had suddenly seen past the cooties, to the girls underneath. She rarely noticed me because I was exceedingly unnoticable. Because of this, I often had dreams of grandeur, dreams of heroism, dreams of things that would get her to notice me.
In my dream there would be a terrible tornado while we were at school. We'd be sitting against the concrete block walls in the central hallway of our school when it hit. Glass would fly, roofs would be released to the wind and fury, and I would dive over Lisa and cover her, protecting her from it all.
This never happened. None of my scenarios ever happened. I remained unnoticed. The love faded as I grew older (you know, like the aged wisdom of a fifth or sixth grader), but I always had a special place in my heart for Lisa, even though I was never her hero.
unconsciousness in action...
an arc
a covenant
broken by language
metaphor and simulation
Before we were we. Before we knew, we still were. The sky, the land, the world around us, still a part of us, still living in our fractured and split, yet growing minds. Our hands free to use, free to disturb the sand and create metaphor. Metaphor to explain the world around us, to help us remember, to help us see the future.
melted by a light that grows brighter
once shot across a narrow causeway into
Heaven, Nirvana, Dreamtime, Valhalla
our dead spoke to us
We heard them, we heard ourselves. The separation was growing thinner now, closer. It wouldn't be separated much longer, soon we would be whole. They talked to us, helped us live and make decisions, even while we were still somnambulant. But we could almost see it, just beyond our comprehension, and our inner vision.
we tilled our fields
we rode to war
our dead spoke to us
We grew, our own voices slowly becoming inward, where we knew they were us, only us. Suddenly, we were individual and alone, each one of us. Our collective ideas faded and fell apart.
still seeking the light
We groped in the darkness, seeking that fleeting knowledge. Listening to the voices, unsure of where they came from.
still craving the light
After only a brief taste of it, we needed more. Driven by the unseen, we sought to find the voices, put a name to them.
then hating the light
That was when we knew, the voices were ourselves. We alone are contained within ourselves. We alone hear ourselves. We alone possess our own duality. We hated alone. We loved alone. We lived alone inside ourselves, for the first time.
finally holding the light
Our voices, now internal, turned to our fellows. Those around us who had finally understood. We finally knew that this was the way, this was human, this was us. We were somnambulent no longer, but awake. Our freedom of mind flowered in creativity, and love. We loved each other, we craved the knowledge of what it is like to be in the mind of others...that thing that we cannot ever really know. At long last, we were conscious.
Radio Free Toadman... (note: I fixed the permissions on the file, you should be able to listen to it now....doh!)
Above I have written the abstract thoughts that race through my mind as I listen to today's entry into Radio Free Toadman. Many of you know that certain music has a profound effect on me. It is quite true about this particular album of which I can only give you one song. It is from the band The Underground Railroad. The song today is Julian Ur, the first track from their album The Origin of Consciousness. I'll go ahead and warn you, this is the most "proggy" song I've posted as a part of this feature, and some of you might have a hard time listening to it...but I'm ok with that. This music isn't for everyone. As you listen, or try to listen, however, remember that there are people who really enjoy this music, like myself. Hopefully, some of you will enjoy it also. And, as always, if you like it, buy the album from their website which I've linked to above in two places. If you are in Fort Worth, TX., check them out live sometime, and tell them I sent you over.
artist - album - song
The Underground Railroad - The Origin of Consciousness - Julian Ur
safely insane...
I am incredibly sleepy. I wonder if they are pumping something through the ventilation system?
"Don't fall to sleep, fight it! They'll take over your body!"
"What for? I mean, look at it!"
"Oh, well, uh.. they might brainwash you!"
"For what purpose?"
"Their evil purposes, you know!"
"Oh, those. Yes, I know those. I'm kinda ok with it at this point, I feel all warm and cuddly... zzzzz"
When I worked at a hardware store in Denton, TX. there was a lady who used to come in on a regular basis who wore a wide brimmed hat with upward facing mirrors. She was very proud of the fact that the satellites couldn't see her. I used to help her with her projects by cutting mirrors to size, and also suggesting other items that might reflect the evil eyes of the enemy in the sky. People used to ask me how I felt about helping her with her little projects. I was totally fine with it. She thought I was a nice young man, and I thought she was a completely insane old lady. But she was the safe and gentle kind of insane. The kind of insane that I often warm to...the kind of insane that is much better than knife wielding lunatic insane.
I wonder if they ever found her? You know, the evil enemy in the sky? I hope not. I think the world would be diminished without her kind about.
Now.. back to that nap...
Wednesday, March 22, 2006
inner dicipline...
I don't care what religion this man is, I think he rocks.
As long as there is a lack of the inner discipline that brings calmness of mind, no matter what external facilities or conditions you have, they will never give you the feeling of joy and happiness that you are seeking. On the other hand, if you possess this inner quality of calmness of mind, a degree of stability within, then even if you lack various external facilities that you would normally consider necessary for happiness, it is still possible to live a happy and joyful life.
-His Holiness the Dalai Lama
radio free toadman...
This week's entry is a double entry, because I just couldn't decide! I'll likely post these again in early May, around Cinco de Mayo, for the obvious reasons.
Del Castillo is first up, with their song Mi Cariño. This band, from Austin, TX, uses the Spanish Classical guitar in new and amazing ways! Check them out. And, as always, if you like it, buy the album! The whole thing is awesome. Get it from iTunes, or get it from their website (referenced above).
Artist - Album - Song
Del Castillo - Brothers of the Castle - Mi Cariño (ogg format)
Del Castillo - Brothers of the Castle - Mi Cariño (mp4 format)
Next up, is a band that features both Del Castillo, and the talents of Robert Rodriguez. Yes, THAT Robert Rodriguez. The same guy who directed films such as Desperado, Once Upon a Time In Mexico, Sin City, and, oddly enough, the Spy Kids movies. He lives in Austin and does almost all his editing at his own digital studio. He formed the band Chingon to compose music for his Latin films. The music is similar to Del Castillo mostly because it is essentially Del Castillo plugged in, as it were. Rodriguez kicks on the feedback, but keeps with the traditional sound and flavor of Latin music, creating an entirely new sound altogether. Check it out! I've selected on of my favorite tracks for you today, it's a traditional Mariachi song that has been (in the words of Rodriguez himself) "Chingonized." I hope you enjoy it! And again, if you like this song, please buy the album from the website I've referenced above! If you get it from Amazon, the band gets less money. I suggest you buy from band websites as much as possible, in fact.
Artist - Album - Song
Chingon - Mexican Spaghetti Western - Malagueña Salerosa (ogg format)
Chingon - Mexican Spaghetti Western - Malagueña Salerosa (mp4 format)
i made it, and more about teeth...
It was a warm feeling, this morning, of wellness. So, that's what it's like? I'm starting to remember now.
Also, there is this:
"You know, that tooth is going to fall out eventually, no matter how long you avoid it. So are some of the other teeth in your head. You know, there's a whole set of teeth waiting to grow in your head!"
"Dad, the only new teeth I'm going to get are from you."
"Huh?"
"I'm going to have your teeth."
"Oh no. I don't think you'd want mine. They've been used too much, I mean, unless you like this shade of brown."
Such is the thoughts on dental futures with a six year old.
Good morning everyone!
difficulty...
Lately it's been just out of reach. Just over the next hill, just after the next bout of illness or flare up. Once the hill, the illness, or the flare up is gone, however, lately there have been more hills, illnesses, and flare ups.
But it will end. It has to. But it's becoming harder and harder to convince myself of that fact.
Are you happy? I am, or at least, it's inside me. I feel it. But there is so much else going on that it gets clouded. Spring is just over the next foggy hill, I see it. When spring comes, there will be trips to the farms with the camera, and you all will get to see more lovely pictures of barns. In the spring, there will be trips to local lakes, and you all will get to see more lovely pictures of our children in bathing suits.
A very generous neighbor GAVE us a giant gas grill, which I only need to clean and put a tank on, and I'll be cooking up grilled tofu before you can say "where's the beef?" I'd invite you over, if you want, but I don't know if you'd all come, so I'll just take pictures.
Soon, I'll be well, my guts won't be in turmoil, and I'll feel more like writing something more creative than this chatty post, and you'll all be aflutter with how wonderful and awesome and sentimental my writing is...unless you're not, which is ok too, I suppose.
But today, it's still winter. Not outside, but inside me. I still have the darkness of winter inside me causing instability, and causing me to be less than prolific in my writing. So, sorry about that.
How have you been? Are you ready for Spring?
I am everyman, I am you, you are me...radio free toadman
I'm the man of a thousand faces
A little piece of me in every part I take
Today I'm walking with a cane. Today my back is in pain and I'm taking half a vicodin to cope. But it's ok, because it makes me feel better. It makes me feel alive again. I like it when pain leaves. I like what it leaves in it's place also, hope. Hope that I'll make it through another day.
I hold the tape for a thousand races
A different point of view in every speech I make
Cut me a piece of my divided soul
Cry me a river, call it rock and roll
I am who I am, but today I'm different. I am you, you are me...I am old, I am young. I am healthy, I am ill. I am loud, I am quiet. I am everyman. I am mankind. Limping around campus today, long hair, green coat, flannel shirt and beard, I am a Vietnam Vet, I am a professor, I am a hippy student. I am whatever you might think I am, but only I know the truth.
Give me an attitude and watch me make it lie
Pass me a microphone
I need to testify
I need to tell you who I really am, but I can't. I want to show you what I'm thinking, but I don't know how. I want to tell you where I've been, what I've learned, and where I think I'm going. I want you to stand with me on this hilltop and look out to the horizon and see what I see, but I don't know if you'd see it like I do. Because I have a thousand faces, I am a million people, I am everyman.
Today's radio free toadman is one from Marillion. It's off their album This Strange Engine and is called Man of a Thousand Faces. I like it. I hope you do also.
Artist - Album - Song Name
Marillion - This Strange Engine - Man of a Thousand Faces
As always, if you enjoy this, buy the album! Get it from the Marillion Website, or from Amazon.com.
Remember, I am not making any money off this, I'm just providing you all with access to music that you wouldn't normally hear on American airwaves. My conscious is clear.
the beginning of peace...the bringer of change...but still waiting...
Last May, I wrote these words...
It's a lovely day. The sun is warm, there's a nice breeze, and the darkness and fear in my mind is slowly drifting away like smoke.
I imagine myself lying on my back, by a river, looking up at the blue sky punctuated by thick, but not heavy, clouds of white. I let them drift into my head, sweeping out the lint, the cobwebs, the anger, the anguish, and the regret. I watch as they leave me again, leaving only a flat, untarnished, canvas of deep clear, clean, blue. A small trace of a smile etches itself across my bearded face, and the breeze stirs my lengthening salt and pepper hair. Age, once feared, I now welcome. Death, once terrifying, I am at peace with. Life, once a burden, I now embrace.
I hope that all of you who read this entry today can find your own peace. Let the ghosts and demons go. Let the darkness turn to light and welcome life back to where it belongs, in your hearts. It's not easy, but rewarding.
It shows the place I was in then. A place I'd like to get back to soon. Right now, illness and stress are causing me anguish, and these words seem very distant, very foreign. I'm waiting for them to feel real again.
And yet, I am hopeful. When I read these words, I am reminded that this darkness will not last forever, that I will make it through this time of stress. I must wait. But change has to come from within, I cannot rely on and wait for atmospheric changes alone.
I hope that all of you who are in dark places today, have a path that leads back to the light, back to hope, and back to peace. If you do not, just wait, it will come. Time and waiting are healing.
I've healed myself while I've waited in airports, watching others wait. Waiting for the board to change, waiting for the hour to come, waiting for the soup to cool, waiting for the drink to come. Sitting in an airport bar waiting for the smoke to clear. I've felt the healing power of patience, and being forced to wait.
radio free toadman...
I'm starting a new feature on this blog today. I hope you enjoy it. Here's the deal...about once a week, I'll post an mp3 of a song I'm enjoying lately, or that I think people other than me might enjoy. It's possible that I'm breaking some sort of copyright law, but with regard to music, it all seems very vague to me. I'm exposing you people to music that you normally wouldn't hear, and I'm directing you to a place where you can purchase the album if you like it, so my conscious is clear. Whether the snake lawyers in the world believe my conscious is clear or not, is another matter, but we shall see.
Today's song is called Glass Arm Shattering by Porcupine Tree. I like this song because it's mellow, simple, and the chord progression is very comfortable. The lyrics are simple,
Feeling all your touching Feeling all your blood
Feeling all your touching Felling all your love
Seen it though a windscreen Seen through the glass
Seen it in a bad dream Seen it in your heart
...and the vocals are nice.
It's the last song on this album, and therefore, has that "last song on the album" feeling. Please enjoy (let me know if the download doesn't work).
Artist - Album - Song Name
Porcupine Tree - Deadwing - Glass Arm Shattering
If you like it, please buy it either at the Porcupine Tree website store, or at Amazon.com.
Wednesday, March 01, 2006
origin of the toad...
People are always not asking me about why I use the moniker "toadman" in so many things. It has an origin. There was a beginning. I will tell it to you now.
Once, long ago, I was in Indonesia on an expedition to capture the last of the rare flying red poisonous tree toads on a remote snake ridden island. Several of our team had been stricken ill by some odd local malady, and our guides had left us, lost and wet to the bone, in the unforgiving bush of the central highlands. It was then that I spied it, the last red toad. With my last remaining strength, I slung my rope around my waist, and started the slow ascent to the top of the rain forest canopy to retrieve my quarry. As I gained altitude, I began to fear that I wouldn't make it, but I had to, this was science, after all.
Then, there it was, so close now I could reach out and touch it. It looked back at me with it's yellow menacing eyes. I looked away from it for only a second, as I retrieved the specimen container from my waist pouch. Looking back, it hadn't moved, but it's eyes had changed from yellow to black. I was mesmerized, captured by the fabled power of this tiny amphibian. I knew, in the back of my mind, that if I didn't look away, it would kill me with it's venom. I tried to look away, but I couldn't. I had visions of my own death as I remained paralyzed to the spot.
Then, with frightening suddenness, almost as if the writer thought the story was getting too long, there was a flash of lightening, and a spray of poison, and an extreme overuse of commas, at the same time! My eyes burned, my skin tingled, I fell fifty feet to the soft forest floor. When my consciousness returned, I found that I had super human powers, all derived in some way from that of the toad.
Interesting, no? Well, that's what I remember at any rate.
However, some people say that it was just because I used "Screaming Toad Productions" at the end of my final film in my first film class in 1993. It's 8 minutes long, and is also (like the Waco film in the previous post) a Quicktime file. I hope you can see it. My lovely (and very white) wife plays the Native American maiden (sorry, I just didn't know anybody with the right skin tone who could show up when I needed them to, but she does an awesome job, I think...). I film and direct this one. Look for my only appearance in the film at the very end during the 1970s freeze frame ending that we put together. It has a cheesy title because, at the time, I was doing very cheesy stuff...but hey, I was 24, what else do you want from me!?
Here you go!
Vision of Reality
note: This one takes a while to load. You might actually want to just right click and download it to your desktop, then watch it after it's done. If you're on a slow connection, well, you might want to go ahead and give up...
February 28th to April 19th, 1993...
In early April, 1993, I went to Waco, TX. with my future wife, and two friends, in order to try and fake our way into the media encampment around the Branch Davidian compound. Our intention was to interview the media that had been there since February 28th of that same year for our college cable access station. February 28th, 1993 was thirteen years and one day ago. We arrived later, and passed through the second ring of security, into the press encampment using our fake NTTV Press passes. We could see the compound, with our own eyes. We didn't have to see it through the eyes of the media. We could see it. It was right there, about a half a mile away.
We interviewed reporters from CNN, CBS, NBC and others. We laughed. We took pictures of the funny structures the reporters had set up over the intervening weeks of the ongoing raid. We laughed about the golden oldies that the government played at night for the Davidians who were cooped up in their compound with their leader, David Koresh. What we didn't know was that, out in the outer ring of security, the one we'd passed through, among the protesters that we'd seen, was a young, fresh faced man, recently back from Iraq. His name was Timothy McVeigh. He saw something dreadfully different than what we saw that day, and acted on it two years later.
On April 19th, one week after we had laughed in the media camp with the reporters, the Branch Davidians died in fire.
I've been thinking about this a lot today because I have to write a paper and give a presentation in my anthropology class about Timothy McVeigh. About what his motives were. About why he thought blowing up innocent people was a good idea. About what drove him to his action. It's dark thinking, but it's still interesting. I'm finding that his motives were more complex than I had at first thought.
I'll be posting the video we made in '93, once I get it converted to mpeg. It never aired on cable access because it was to have aired the day the compound burned down, and was pulled by our producer. I hope you enjoy it!
I've finished converting the video. It's an avi file, you may have to have quicktime to view it...I hope you have it. Here it is: Sattelite City. Oh, and by the way, I'm not in the video this time...I'm behind the camera.
