Click, clack, click clack; oh, the incessant tapping of high-heeled ladies strutting across an expansive granite floor.  Women of all shapes and sizes; but mostly well dressed; smart, business women. 

 
Attend my surreal education about high heels and those who wear them.


This is big - really big.

Click, clack, click, clack…

I noticed that women wearing high heels have a certain gait.  They don’t exactly walk the same way as those in regular shoes; somehow they stand straighter, their backs thrown further back, their fronts thrust more forward… And from my perspective, the look seemed ungainly, uncomfortable or unnatural.

My wife Gail and I were at the Boston South Station Train Terminal.  We sat near one of those coffee kiosks; big cups of hot coffee; luggage sprawled upon two chairs.  And at regular intervals, doors opened, and disgourged a cacophony of urgent humanity; each seemingly intent on a destination, deep in private thoughts, they whisked by us - clearly wanting to be elsewhere as soon as possible. 

We were wanting to be elsewhere too - hence our presence at the train station.

Humanity sure spends lots of time wanting to be elsewhere.

Oh yeah, high heels and stuff. 

Click, clack, click clack…

I mentioned to Gail that wearing high heels seemed like a lot of fuss just to look taller.  “Why do women wear such uncomfortable contrivances as High Heels!  It just didn’t make sense, that’s all,” I asked, rhetorically.  

No matter my question’s rhetorical nature… Gail was able to disabuse my struggle with such a difficult conundrum rather handily. 

She screwed her face in one of those, its all your fault expressions and explained, "high heels are a man’s invention, created solely to make women’s legs look more shapely, her gait more alluring, and of course, it also makes women look thinner."  (Or words to that affect).

Hmmm.  My fault. Somehow I knew it all along.

“You see, when stepping on tippy-toes, the calf muscle bunches up in a more shapely, feminine way.  The posture is forced back, and as unimportant as this might seem - when you’re taller, you don’t look as fat.”

But it seemed rather cruel.  And to think men did this to women.  And by association - me too! 

Just thinking of all those pathetic waifs in uncomfortable high heeled shoes, their calf muscles painfully all bunched up, and all just for me.  I was justifiably wracked with tears of shame and guilt.

But at the same time, dutifully allured. 

Oh, look, the truth will set us free!  Wikipedia says differently…  Apparently French men invented high heels to keep their feet from slipping too far forward in the stirrups while riding their horses.    


Women noticed them forthwith, and apparently found other uses for the high-heeled French hiding boots.  And so, not men, but women!  Women did it to themselves, they bunched up their own calf muscles without men asking them to!

I couldn’t wait to tell Gail and extricate men-kind from our sullied, guilty association with high heels. 

Here’s a video about how women should walk in high heels.  As you might have surmised, its an art form.  As long as your being miserable, Hey! May as well make it count.  May as well display those bunched up calf muscles to best advantage.

Click, clack, click, clack…

Lo. Comes now, a tall woman in denim jeans; high-heels clacking on the polished stone floor; her otherwise quite-alluring bunched-up calf muscles unseen, indeed hidden from view on purpose! 

Too bad.   Her sacrifice and suffering pointless; at least to me.

Washington Post had an interesting piece on the damaging affects of wearing high heels…  Two ladies I know required surgery due to leg damage from high heels.  Years and years of displaying bunched up calf muscles caused the muscles in front of the leg to become damaged from excessive stretching.  Still another elderly lady I know is incapable of walking in flat shoes anymore due to her damaged leg muscles.    

Well, time to hop on the train and head home. 

Click, clack, click clack, Gail’s high heels tapped importantly upon the hard, stone floor.  Just think of it…  Calf muscles bunching up at this very minute.

I had much to learn.

No, perhaps not about high heels, this whole thing was bigger than all that - it spoke to me about humanity’s customs.  They seem so ingrained, so formidable, so unstoppable.  And each of us seems so helpless against their immovable authority.  Yes, custom is the name we give things that are so stupid, so arcane, that they defy explanation.  We’ll call it custom, the inconceivable, the inexplicable, the impractical and uncomfortable.

Ahh, the questions, whizzing about…  Why do married middle -aged women go to church wearing high heels? An elderly woman waddles painfully up the street in high heels - what for?  And lo, even my lovely wife Gail, uncomfortably climbing the steel steps into the train car, wobbling on precariously narrow heels.

Questions.   

Sometimes I simply wonder of it all - how such things got started and how they are perpetuated from generation to generation.  Sometimes I wonder why we can’t so easily change our paths when irrefutable proof of such a need besets us.

But alas, we are who we are.

Oh…  Almost forgot:  How could we part without this quintessential image:  "Sport calf-muscle bunching!" 

 

They look so thin and graceful; go team go! 

 

Tom

 
 

   
 

 

Picture from www.nothernsun.com

   
 

Guess what…

   
 

Steve Hawking does not believe there are advanced civilizations throughout the galaxy; nor does he believe we are being visited by extra-terrestrials.

   
 

Damn…

   
 

Indeed, Steve proclaims that people who report sightings, visitations and so on, are perhaps demented or mentally ill. This is based on Steve’s belief that we would have amassed irrefutable evidence by now - radio signals from their home planets, clear pictures or video of their spaceships, perhaps even DNA evidence. To say nothing about guided tours offered during special visits. Yes, how could human science be so ineffective in detecting alien life if there actually were such a thing!

   
 

And so in Steve’s opinion - there can’t be any!

   
 

Here’s the video link to Steve’s lecture on Ted Talks. Steve discusses humanity’s big questions, including the existence of alien life.

   
 

I’m a big fan of Steve by the way. He is absolutely brilliant… I’ve read his book, “A Brief History of Time”, and his perceptions about physics and the Universe are crystal clear, well thought-out and superbly crafted.

   
 

Never heard of Steve Hawking?

   
 

Anyway.

   
 

I happen to disagree with Steve’s rationale about Space Aliens for no other reason than I perhaps watched too many Star Trek reruns in my youth. Steve, on the other hand, came to his conclusions by aggressively deploying the two quintessential dogmas of science - Scientific Method, which insists, “if you can’t prove it, it doesn’t exist”, and the other, Occam’s Razor, which proffers, “the most simple solution is best.”

   
 

Here’s a refresher course on Scientific Method:

   
 

   
 

   
 

Graphic from: http://www.eas.slu.edu

   
 

And here’s Occam’s Razor for folks in a hurry:

   
 

   
 

Graphic from: http://www.savagechickens.com

   
 

There you have it - science’s definitive answer on alien life: “Prove it! And all those who are witnesses ? You’re nuts.”

   
 

Nuts - its really the simplest explanation. Your just pain nuts, nuts, nuts.

   
 

Nuts.

   
 

Ahh, but what’s most telling here is not Steve’s authoritative proclamation on alien life; nor his easy dismissal of eye-witness accounts to the contrary, but his disdain and intolerance for accepting as true, an unvetted, or at best, only partially vetted hypothesis. Honest. I have no idea whether space aliens are visiting us; or if the Loch Ness Monster lurks quietly in deep, murky waters in Scotland; I don’t know if sitting in a crystal pyramid atop Mount Shasta will make me leave my body and travel in the spirit world; and I certainly don’t know if the Bermuda Triangle is swallowing ships whole…

   
 

But I do know, that for good or ill, Science’s reflex is to fervently cling to these two processes: Scientific Method, and Occam’s Razor and attempt to slowly and inexorably eat away at the chaotic and ambiguous world around us, in pursuit of clarity, understanding and truth.

   
 

Got it? Science is supposed to be an immovable pillar of facts, proof, and repeatable observations. And against such unrelenting force, ambiguity is slowly dissected, scrutinized; its mystery chipped away.

   
 

That’s Science.

   
 

   
 

Picture from: http://www.uwm.edu

   
 

And now comes the most important scientific inquiry of our life time - Global Warming. Has that one made it to your living room television yet? Lets say it three times real fast together: “Global warming, “global warming, global warming”!

   
 

Now let’s pretend we’re parrots, and say it again: “Ark, Global Warming, ark!”

   
 

But this time, scientific rigor, which abhors ambiguity and mystery, has been steered into the fast lane by none other than that lovable Nobel Prize Winner, Al Gore. Here’s a video by Al Gore, the Father of Global Warming. Its on TED Talks (I like this site by the way).

   
 

Gore makes three key points in this short video:

   
 

1. Global temperatures are rising at an alarming rate due in part to humanity’s production of CO2,
2. Consequently, the Polar Ice cap is melting, jeopardizing climates world-wide,
3. And aggravating all this, huge swaths of CO2 gobbling rain forest are being chopped down everyday to make room for humanity’s sprawl.

      
    

   Bleak is the word that comes to mind.

      
    

   Bleak.

      
    

   No, not because our planet seems utterly doomed, but because the same scientific rigor that denounces space aliens in sallies of laughter and guffaw, has embraced global warming with seemingly far less scrutiny. Indeed, we seem to have skipped most of the part where we attempt to prove the hypothesis that humanity is the culprit, and instead have bounded right into the conclusion and money-making solution phase, where we are bombarded with every notion of tree planting, fluorescent light bulbs, and other “green” things to do.

      
    

   And as for Hawking’s unwavering adherence to Scientific Method and Occam’s Razor? Alas, scientists quietly contend that funding, employment, indeed the warm coziness of academia is extended only to those who passionately embrace Al Gore’s world view of a scalding planet soon to be ravished by famine, war and flooded coastline cities. Alas, Science, with its otherwise unwavering discipline and deft scientific rigor seems unwilling or incapable of bringing us to cusp, in this, the greatest inquiry of our generation. So busy are they, with political correctness, career advancement and *sycophantia.

      
    

   Bleak.

      
    

   Like all of you, I wish I knew whether Global Warming was real, and if we are the cause. Is this as grave as they say? Or is it just another ploy to manipulate the mindless masses and market a new generation of guilt-free products.

      
    

   I wish I knew.

      
    

   I found this rather interesting graphic on the web - a layman like me.

      
    

      
    

   

      
    

   Graphic from a study by Birgir V. Óskarsson entitled, Ice core evidence for past climates and glaciation
   

      
    

   It seems global temperatures are cyclic - at least they’ve been for the 400,000 years that we’ve been able to measure them. And what’s more, we seem to be experiencing one of many temperature spikes right now. In eons past, the planet responded to such temperature spikes by self-correcting, causing temperatures to plummet dramatically. If such is the case, again, (and why wouldn’t it be) I’m glad Al Gore is getting us all to plant trees - we’re going to need lots more fire wood!

      
    

      
    

   

      
    

   Picture from: http://www.brandchannel.com
   

      
    

   And the founder of “Green Peace“, Patrick Moore; a man committed to a better, cleaner Earth, an independent, hard thinker, disagrees humanity is causing Global Warming.

      
    

   Here’s the article.

      
    

   Global Warming- small amounts of truth, advanced not by scientific rigor, but by populist fervor. Gone seems the immovable pillar of science, supplanted by pettifoggers, self-serving politics and corporate interests. Oh, for the noble and uncompromising standards of the likes of Steve Hawkings’.

      
    

   Lo.

      
    

   Cling, clang, cling clang, a covered wagon rattles across a rutted, prairie trail, driven by an obscure man in dusty black coat and top hat, pulled by an old, tired horse. And brightly colored upon the wagons’ high wooden sides, “Doc Johnson’s Magical Cure All Elixir”. Ahh, some things never change; the same-ole’ drive for the fast buck, and the same ole’ snake oil; but this time, a bold new look! Yes, re-invigorated and repackaged for humanity’s present ailments, and of course this time presented in modern, ergonomic, earth-conscious biodegradable bottles.

      
    

   And so this plea, this hope: “Science - get it right! Cut through the hype, the drama, dare to disagree with self-serving politicians and career-clinging sycophants, and find humanity the truth!”

      
    

   Tom

      
    

   * Pettifogger: A lawyer who uses unethical methods in conducting trumped up cases..

   *Sycophantia: Sucking-up risen to a mental disorder. I made the word up; but can you think of a word that wasn’t?

      
    

Copyright 2008, Ask permission before re-use

Bitterness…

 
 

Rob Patterson wrote in his blog yesterday about some of the sociology occurring in America as we approach the elections of 2008. The centerpiece of Rob’s thoughts seemed to be Obama’s now infamous “bitterness” speech. Rob further provided a graphic that in his opinion broke-down how Americans, in their various groups, are approaching our voting decisions based on their level of maturity.

 
 

Here’s a link to Rob’s blog:

http://smartpei.typepad.com

 
 

If you visited his site, perhaps you noticed the rather busy graphic I mentioned above, of what might be a classic ego development chart. Some of the terms are slightly changed, but the essence is still there.

 
 

Here’s more on Ego Development: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Loevinger’s_stages_of_ego_development

 
 

Anyway, as scholarly and well thought of as Rob’s idea might be, I would like to expand upon it here.

 
 

Rob - what say you about this picture: I think it truly captures the true and modern sentiment of Americana… Indeed, far better than the graphic you present, it shows the heartland of America changing, overrun, looking for relevance in a tumultuous time. I know. You said some of that too.

 
 

 
 

Pasted from <http://editorialcartoonists.com/cartoons/SherfJ/2008/SherfJ20080415_low.jpg>>

 
 

I think we’re more than that; more than can be explained in Rob depicts. I think America is indeed a confusing social construct; sure, many behave as predictably as Rob’s graphic might suggest; but many more adhere socially and psychologically as Maslow might have professed.

 
 

According to Maslow, we act the way we do based on this hierarchy of needs:

 
 

 
 

 
 

Pasted from <http://estadosdeespirito.files.wordpress.com/2007/12/maslow.jpg>

 
 

 
 

To make a long story short, most people are quite self centered and selfish when they perceive their safety and security is at stake. No motivation to pursue issues of self esteem and meaningfulness when you’re broke, in danger of dying, or otherwise feel threatened by you human condition.

 
 

There are exceptions of course - the Army private who dives on a grenade to save his buddies. The mother who dies in defense of her young. And so on.

 
 

Exceptions… The so-called greed-filled wall-street bankers who albeit wealthy already, have seemingly brought America to the brink of financial ruin -all because of insatiable greed. Never motivated beyond the need to feel safe and secure.

 
 

And less we forget our Presidential hopefuls… Attempting at any cost to identify themselves with many of us - those struggling at the bottom. Obama, in his infamous “bitterness” speech, spoke of how those at the bottom cling to guns, religion, and so on. Perhaps. But not the ones living in refrigerator boxes at the outskirts of town; not the ones sitting across from their banker, loosing their home to the ravages of an unkind housing market. Such as those aren’t reading National Rifle Association magazine, or the Watchtower. They’re reading the help wanted adds.

 
 

Look, those at the top of Maslow’s pyramid don’t understand the desperation of those at the bottom. Its foreign to them; its like going to Madagascar or something. No, to be broke is to understand; to be rich is, well, to be rich. And those in between? Well each according to what we perceive.

 
 

Thanks Rob - you got me thinking as always.

 
 

Tom

 
 

 
 

 
 

 
 

“Humanity… So frail, so prone to stumbles and falls.”

 
 

Hey, let’s see what’s new in the world this morning…

 
 

Hmmm… Governor Spitzer seems to have resigned because he’s been patronizing hookers for the past ten years, this after being so vocal and aggressive in prosecuting them as Attorney General. And here: Hillary Clinton is being accused of using dirty politics and secret backroom deals to seize the Democratic nomination from the more popular Obama. And here: Schwarzenegger’s commuting habits via a private jet is drawing an inevitable ire of global warming zealots.

 
 

And so on.

 
 

Behold the foibles of humanity parading in review; heads held low, oh, the shame, the shame of it all.

 
 

I think I’ll make up some characters and let them opine about these moral issues. Why not. Why not put a touch of humanity to a largely human issue. Otherwise, we have just another lecturing, bloviating and sanctimonious behemoth .

 
 

Here goes.

 
 

“In all things, play by the rules”

(Ebna)

 
 

Ebnar started his day in the same manner I do - at his computer, steaming coffee resting at his elbow ; you know , why not wake up with a little news about the world we live in.

 
 

“Tom,” Ebnar nodded in agreement, “there’s really no need to walk outside in the cold to retrieve a paper anymore! Its all about computers these days!”

 
 

Listen.

 
 

“Hey Ebnar,” I asked matter of factly, (Oh sure, we talk all the time - my creations and I). Don’t you talk to imaginary people too?

 
 

“Hey Ebnar, what’s your take on all these ethics issues in the news these days?”

 
 

He looked up, not seeing me of course, “Tom, people should be guided by ethics in all things. When they don’t follow the rules, this is the kind of thing that is bound to happen. And its not as if these people didn’t know what the right thing to do was, they simply didn’t care. Tom, the world is full of stuff that guides us - the ten commandments, civil and criminal law, policies at work; even our games are structured and guided by rules! People just need to follow them that’s all.”

 
 

He sighed. “Tom, people just need to be more responsible; what’s wrong with doing what you’re told once in a while!”

 
 

Thus speaks Ebnar… His ethical beliefs reduced to this: “Do what you’re told.” In its most noble form, a soldier does his duty in a dangerous world. In its most ignoble: two engineers at Chernobyl disobey safety regulations and cause a horrific and world-changing accident.

 
 

Do what you’re told…

 
 

“Do onto others as you would want done onto you.

That’s the only ethical rule we need.

(Sharon)

 

Sharon never bothered much with the news; she was far too busy doing stuff for others. Sharon believed utterly in the Golden Rule, and practiced it in her life daily.

 
 

“Sharon,” I called.

 
 

“Sharon, the governor of New York was caught hiring prostitutes, many think he compromised the public’s trust in him and think this was a horrible moral breakdown, don’t you agree?”

 
 

Sharon was rushing around when I peaked in on her - feeding the hungry at a local soup kitchen. She paused, wiping a moist brow with a soiled dish rag.

 
 

“Tom, this is what’s wrong with society - we’re all so quick to criticize and condemn; we all rush to judgment and admonishment. Let someone far more perfect than me cast the first stone; I think the poor man just needs a hug. Ater all, being embarrassed by all this mean-spirited press, all because of set-back; set backs we all have. That poor, dear man.”

 
 

“But, but, but… ” I blurted out somewhat exasperated. “Don’t you see how damaging his actions were to America.”

 
 

“Oh, my poor, misguided creator…” She answered soothingly, “Do you need a hug too?”

 
 

And so on.

 
 

Jesus, Ghandi, Mother Theresa… A moral high ground undisputed when emerging from a pure heart. But the quiet guy who massacre’s his coworkers, when proffered through ego’s hurt feelings.

 
 

“You really need to apply ethics in the proper context.”

(Geoff)

 
 

Geoff also read the news each morning…

 
 

Attend.

 
 

“Tom, the world is not black and white, and these self-righteous fanatics who keep trying to make it so are what’s so destructive about America! ”

 
 

“Look,” he pointed with disapproval to an article about a top Admiral retiring because of apparent disagreements over Iran…

 
 

“Tom, here’s a guy whose applying a black and white ethics to an ambiguous world and now finding himself out of a job. If he were smart, he’d just go with the flow; he’d be doing far more good that way. So what if he disagrees; so what if his conscience is bothering him; so what if he thinks people would be killed needlessly - he just needs to shut up and work the systems.”

 
 

“Let your conscience be your guide? Let your conscience be your undoing!” Yeah, Geoff certainly had something to say about this one.

 
 

“And those ready to hang Governor Spitzer; we should ask ourselves this: If an airplane pilot was superbly capable of handling his plane, would we fire him because he hired a prostitute on a lonely night in Detroit? I think not.”

 
 

Geoff shook his head in wonderment… “Tom, people need to see the big picture and stop all this nonsense.”

 
 

And so Geoff believed: base your decisions, not on such misguided notions as rules, laws, conscience, but on a far more satisfying standard: Outcome. Yes, the results justify the means in Geoff’s ethical world.

 
 

The ethics of getting the impossible done: Our founding fathers finding compromise and drafting the constitution… Hitler, Saddam Hussein, Bin Laden - finding an easy justification for the large-scale murder and destruction.

 
 

“I wish it were that easy:

How each of resolves an ethical dilemma.”

 

Ahh, three points of view, three journeys, three means of solving humanity’s most perplexing problem: how to do the right thing. Some overly identify with rules, or its opposite, rebel continuously against such notions, with an ensuing mediocrity or worse. Some follow blindly, the golden rule, in a world of wolves; becoming easy prey for those around them. And finally, and most dangerous, there are those who apply a loose, situational ethic to all their endeavors, feeling empowered to lie, steal, cheat or harm in pursuit of a perceived lofty goal. Every monster we have ever known, proceeds from such as these.

 
 

But of course humanity is nothing if not ever undulating shades of gray. Perhaps we taint an otherwise ethical dilemma with greed, with self-righteousness, or with varied complexities of self worth. Perhaps we make the wrong decision because we fail to see the situation clearly, clouded as it always is with emotion.

 
 

Indeed…

 
 

And so, our imperfect and often ambiguous humanity. If it were easy; if the answers were pat, would it be worth the journey?

 
 

***
 

Tom

I was listening to Janis Joplin last night. I don’t know, sometimes I’ll listen to music while I cruise the Web or while I’m writing.

Anyway, I was struck again by how intense Janis Joplin sang. Its like each song was her last one. Heavy, thick, with the lust of her; with her emotion, there was no doubt that when Janis sang, that’s pretty much all she was doing. Yes, she threw everything into that moment.

Everything she was.

Here’s a sample.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JjD4eWEUgMM&feature=related
Know what I mean? She really sings her guts out.

Others on the other hand, might be less intense but far more prolific - the proverbial tortoise and the hare… Yeah, one produces quick, intense bursts, while the other, albeit less intensely, produces far more consistently.

Take Rob Patterson - I truley admire him. Rob maintains one of the most interesting blogs on the web. What I like most about Rob is the breadth of his knowledge and his commitment to writing about it. No, not dripping with intense emotion, but a good steady hand, that continuously delivers valuable and thought provoking content.

http://www.smartpei.typepad.com/

Get the idea?

I know, get to the point already!

Look - I was was recently on a writing forum where people were lamenting about how they were chock full of story ideas, but after writing a few pages, quickly lost the muse. I have a similar condition - my writing is short, hopefully emotionally intense, but then I must stop because the inspiration is simply used up.

Not in Janis’ league, but perhaps in her vein.

Some are born with Rob’s knack - long range runners as it were, and some with Janis’ - sprinters.

That’s life. No sense lamenting about it.

Tom

“What else do we have, but our story, our message?”

We all have a message -It’s how we justify our very existence. Our message says to the world, “I’m alive because…” Driven inexorably by the concomitance of our beliefs, hopes, and aspirations, our message is heard by others through our words and deeds. And the more of our words and deeds are observed, the clearer our message becomes. Yes, the ever- important message; clamoring to be heard, yearning to be understood; for indeed, what else do we have?

But our message.

“To others, we are the summation of what we do.”

Iggy awoke. His eyes fluttered, a slight moan emanated from dry parched lips as he slowly turned his head to stair at the white ceiling above him. Lo, the rhythmic beeping of a nearby heart-monitor; its many tangled wires, disappearing under his blankets. And the jumble of clear plastic tubes attached here and there, bringing life-giving elixirs to his tired, worn-out body.

Because Iggy was close to death.

At bedside, his wife and son, perched solemnly upon molded plastic chairs. Both looked up when Iggy stirred; aroused from their private thoughts. There was no talk; Iggy was never one for talk. Just sit quietly; just be there for him - that’s all Iggy wanted.

True, true, Iggy was all about the doing, never about its contemplation. No idle chatter, no lofty thoughts, no amusing anecdotes over a cold beer with friends… Not Iggy - “What you see is what you get!” That’s what people said about Iggy. “Just a plain talking man who took life head on! Never tiring, fiercely tenacious, always hard-working, that was Iggy.”

And so on.

Iggy built things all his life; and he built things right. No half measures, no wishful thinking, no genius ideas about cutting corners or cost - just old-school “do it right the first time.”

Once again his eyes closed; the slow, even rhythm of his breathing returned. Iggy was back to sleep.

“Sleep, sleep,” my dear Iggy, his wife thought. “Get your rest now; your life has been exhausting.”

“But deep inside, safe from the scrutiny of others,
we are what we believe ourselves to be.”

Yes, deep within that quivering mass of brain jelly, where resided the very essence of Iggy, a far more revealing view. Oh sure, Iggy’s message was always consistent and easily headed by all. Indeed, the world saw what he wanted them to see: a tough, but far minded man given to the practical; a man who got things done. Yes, Iggy wanted people to see his life as worthwhile because of his worthwhile deeds.

Don’t we all?

But inside… Where the light of others never shown; where the door was sealed shut, marked, “private”, against the clamor of humanity, Iggy had a different notion of himself. And upon this, his deathbed, with his body seemingly calm and serene, his thoughts raged as always with staggering ferocity. It was his greatest fear - that these thoughts, these idle, despicable thoughts, would alas be overheard, and all that he had done, all that he attempted to become, would be lost forever - his real-self blanched nakedly in stark, cruel light. Sometimes whimsical, sometimes non-sensible, yes sometimes even dark; but always raging, never ceasing - such were his thoughts. And all the hard work, all the things he had wrought - it was the doing that had kept such at bay and under his tight control.

And about the listening, the idle chatter, the so-called man of few words - he was simply incapable; his brain unable to concentrate on the minutiae of such simple human discourse. And finally the often cold logic of his decisions and actions - each had been at least partially driven by fear - his fear of seeming vulnerable, soft, unworthy of his message.

Iggy slept; the turmoil safely hidden within, until his last breath.

“But I wonder - is it OUR story we tell, or is it God’s?”

“Iggy, it’s me your creator,” I called softly across the ether, from mind to mind, from creation to created.

He paused in mid-thought, startled to alertness.

“Who’s that?”

“It is I, your creator.”

“look Iggy, I know you are both ashamed and proud of who you are… Ashamed of the parts you hid; proud of the parts you allowed to shine forth. I know that you took responsibility for all of it as well - the good and the bad. But Iggy, these were simply the cards you were dealt - the cards I dealt to you. It was I that made you short or tall, dark or light; disciplined or not; it was solely my doing that you were born into the circumstances that became so formative to you in adult life. Yes Iggy, it was I who jointly crafted and honed the message that you uttered every day of your life.”

Iggy, you have truly been the quintessential messenger; with a vital and important message: one piece of a cohesive and undeniable whole; a message that resonates throughout humanity; and that message simply this: we are, each of us, absolutely, stunningly, stupendously, unique in every way; and each of us carries forth a small piece of our creator’s heart, our creator’s mind, and tells the story:

What if God created such a being as me?”

“Thank you Iggy - thank you for telling our story.”

Read this article yet? The author enjoins us to get on board and be more blog-savvy.  He wants us to know that 40,000 blogs are being created everyday.

But that’s ok…  Of those 40,ooo, a mere hand full are worth reading.   The rest are crap.

 Crap.

Meanwhile, a Pew Research Poll recently found that only about 29% of us even bother with blogs.  You’re in the 29% of course - why would you be reading otherwise.

And so on…

But what I found most important in this article was the reminder of how blogs are the beginning of stupendous change for humanity.  Think of it - for the first time in history, anybody, indeed, everybody, can participate in the humanity’s conversation.  Yes, any content can be published, read, contemplated… No longer is what we read or see controlled in smoke filled corporate board rooms, or in television and radio newsrooms, or by book and magazine publishers…  Now everyone can make the decision about what is relevent and what is not.  

They’ve been disingenuous you know - the so-called mainstream media: Here’s what CNN looks like inside according to Chez Pazienza who was fired for blogging, CNN always exploited the news to conjure an overarching message.  The message, not necessarily being the truth.
 
On and on it goes; humanity shaping the story of humanity according to thier own views. And no where, no where - can we find those hard, immovable pillars of truth, that weather every adversity and human storm. 
Nowhere.

Yeah - truth… Made up, twisted and molded, bent like a pretzel by each of us - but hey!  Truth none the less. At least I think its is.

Tom

Ahh, New Years Day.

Such an opportunity, such a golden sunrise. Indeed, I was struck with its luster of newness; with its compelling promise of haughty, bold opportunity. And I simply can’t bring myself to living it in the same ole way as yesterday.

Indeed, today is far better than all of that; the day is so stupendous that only forming and living resolutely, and with noble purpose can rise to its splendor and promise.

Yes, Happy New Year all. May each of you live better, more deliberate lives. And may 2008 mark the point of happy no return.

Ahh, to create such a day worthy of you. If not on such a magical day, when?

Tom Desrosier

I came across this rather bizzare link. Yeah - space aliens on the dark side of the Moon and NASA has been covering it up since the 60s.


Here’s the link: http://cgi.fark.com/cgi/fark/youtube.pl?IDLink=3114822


I was struck by this… Not because I believe in space alien moon bases - I have no idea about what’s on the dark side of the moon. No, this story reminded me about how fleeting truth can really be. What is truth, anyway. What some eyewitness accounts about secret moon bases? What someone else decides is truth about God, last Thursday, the universe, 2+2?


Who knows.


But of this I seem certain. Just as we have been created, so too are we able to create - our worlds, our lives, yes even our reality.


Truth - Who knows. Maybe we’re not supposed to know what truth really is.


Tom

Imagine bumping your head, then awakening to the prospect that you are not who you were before? I don’t know if you can explain it away; how can that be? Perhaps we do reincarnate after all, and keep some of who we were, secreted away in the deepest, darkest recesses of our minds.

But what do I know…

Here’s the article I’m talking about.

Thoughts?
Tom