I'm going to miss George Carlin. With his death on the 22nd of June, 2008, the world lost one of the most insightful, charismatic, hilarious and brilliant comedians of all time.
There have been many times when I wanted to have the logic (or illogic) of a concept explained or redefined, and George managed to do so brilliantly. Happily, his method of utilizing humor in coincidence with logic and good ol' fashioned common sense put such a hard spin on the mundane existential conundrums I was internally debating, that I caught the shot in the head and it stuck hard and fast. George was good at that.
There's no need to reiterate his monologues, so I won't try to, but his explanation of religion and its inanity was so fantastic that I am just going to give you the YouTube link and let you watch and decide for yourself if he had it as right as I think he did.
Happy viewing! Go to: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MeSSwKffj9o
Sunday, June 29, 2008
Friday, June 13, 2008
On Saying Farewell, but Not Goodbye
Today, on Friday the Thirteenth, I say farewell to my best friend.
I admit, I cried when I finally hugged her and tearfully promised to write and call and visit when I can, but I'm no stranger to tears or parting of ways. Somewhere during that final embrace, I realized that I have no other close friends other than my family and boyfriend.
People are categorized as extroverts or introverts, friendly or antisocial, but really, these labels are totally arbitrary when it comes to how we make friends. Some of us have droves of friends, a circle of social contacts and a bevy of personalities to choose from when we desire human interaction.
I used to behave that way, when I was younger and better able to ignore people's foibles and idiosyncrasies and just enjoy the grab-bag approach. Ten years in the Air Force dragged me into a way of life where my companions were my co-workers, family, party-buddies, roommates and even lovers, sometimes. From one month to another, my circle of friends changed with the inevitability of reassignments and separations from the military. It was expected, it was fluid and organic and that laissez-faire attitude was the norm, not the exception. Some people, I would keep in touch with for a while after, but then, the friendships would fade out imperceptably, phone numbers would be lost, new friends would capture my interest. Old friends would move again, contact lost forever.
High school friends fell by the wayside soon after I graduated, I was on to new horizons, and college friends were even less attached to my heartstrings. Very few people I knew were travelling on the same path as I was, I was also too eager to see the world, to meet new faces. The fault truly lies at my feet, like an old, sightless hound, vaugely aware of the smell of yesterday's dinner in its nose.
I have let go of nearly every one of my dearest friends the same way.
This one is different, though. This friend came back after a nasty parting of ways over the unfortunate decision to become roommates went sour over silly differences of lifestyle and perceptions of responsibilities. After six years of separation, our paths reconverged quite literally, on a path in the woods. Past resentments dropped away in the space of a breath, replaced by, well, relief.
Four years later, after her marriage and career started moving purposefully towards fruition, her sister, like mine several years earlier, developed Multiple Sclerosis, sending her into a vortex of worry and a desire to help, someway, anyway. A visit to her sister's home in North Carolina yielded leads to jobs for her and her husband. The leads turned into offers and suddenly, it was time to pack up their belongings and relocate.
So, here I sit, drinking red wine, which I barely tolerate due to allergies. She drinks red wine. She loves the stuff, and I'd like to buy her bottles recommended to me, but I never buy them because I can't share her joy for the stuff. Selfishly, I buy white wines, which she barely tolerates because they aren't red.
There will be a week of intense feelings of loss, followed by too many phone calls to "check in" and cry about how much I miss her. But sooner or later, I'll start to save my money and make plans with our mutual acquaintance to road trip to visit her.
I wonder how long she'll let me stay...
I admit, I cried when I finally hugged her and tearfully promised to write and call and visit when I can, but I'm no stranger to tears or parting of ways. Somewhere during that final embrace, I realized that I have no other close friends other than my family and boyfriend.
People are categorized as extroverts or introverts, friendly or antisocial, but really, these labels are totally arbitrary when it comes to how we make friends. Some of us have droves of friends, a circle of social contacts and a bevy of personalities to choose from when we desire human interaction.
I used to behave that way, when I was younger and better able to ignore people's foibles and idiosyncrasies and just enjoy the grab-bag approach. Ten years in the Air Force dragged me into a way of life where my companions were my co-workers, family, party-buddies, roommates and even lovers, sometimes. From one month to another, my circle of friends changed with the inevitability of reassignments and separations from the military. It was expected, it was fluid and organic and that laissez-faire attitude was the norm, not the exception. Some people, I would keep in touch with for a while after, but then, the friendships would fade out imperceptably, phone numbers would be lost, new friends would capture my interest. Old friends would move again, contact lost forever.
High school friends fell by the wayside soon after I graduated, I was on to new horizons, and college friends were even less attached to my heartstrings. Very few people I knew were travelling on the same path as I was, I was also too eager to see the world, to meet new faces. The fault truly lies at my feet, like an old, sightless hound, vaugely aware of the smell of yesterday's dinner in its nose.
I have let go of nearly every one of my dearest friends the same way.
This one is different, though. This friend came back after a nasty parting of ways over the unfortunate decision to become roommates went sour over silly differences of lifestyle and perceptions of responsibilities. After six years of separation, our paths reconverged quite literally, on a path in the woods. Past resentments dropped away in the space of a breath, replaced by, well, relief.
Four years later, after her marriage and career started moving purposefully towards fruition, her sister, like mine several years earlier, developed Multiple Sclerosis, sending her into a vortex of worry and a desire to help, someway, anyway. A visit to her sister's home in North Carolina yielded leads to jobs for her and her husband. The leads turned into offers and suddenly, it was time to pack up their belongings and relocate.
So, here I sit, drinking red wine, which I barely tolerate due to allergies. She drinks red wine. She loves the stuff, and I'd like to buy her bottles recommended to me, but I never buy them because I can't share her joy for the stuff. Selfishly, I buy white wines, which she barely tolerates because they aren't red.
There will be a week of intense feelings of loss, followed by too many phone calls to "check in" and cry about how much I miss her. But sooner or later, I'll start to save my money and make plans with our mutual acquaintance to road trip to visit her.
I wonder how long she'll let me stay...
Sunday, June 1, 2008
Hang on tight, Here come the "End Days"!
Was reading my e-mail this morning and I came upon a "free" reading of my Aztec Horoscope. I'm naturally curious and don't mind exploring the paranormal as a means of entertainment, so I opened it.
It seems that the Aztecs, in their frighteningly sophisticated understanding of time, had constructed a calendar that was so accurate, that it rivaled those of the ancient Egyptians, the Romans, the Renaissance thinkers and scientists and actually were able to predict occasions that they could not physically observe, such as the time when our Solar System would pass through the Galactic Plane. It is this last point in time that is a bit bizarre, in as much as the Aztec calendar stops in the year 2012, December 21st to be precise.
What modern scientists have alluded to recently is that the preponderance of catastrophic asteroid/meteor inpacts on this planet seem to have occured when our solar system crossed the Galactic Plane. And with the technology of our skyward scanning telescopes, astronomists have the ability to locate and identify the orbits and proximity of asteroids that are on possible collision paths with our planet.
Naturally, this kind of information spawns thousands of articles citing the potential end of the world and the eradication of Mankind due to an asteroid or meteor strike like those that have previously caused extinctions in the past. And instead of a bearded ascetic parading up and down the sidewalk wearing a sandwich board stating "Repent, The End Is Near", we have the Internet, with its dire and frantic proclamations from cult adherents and pseudoscientists.
To a fault, I am perpetually balanced on the top rail of the fence that separates stark logic from spritualism, the world of the mind from the world of the heart, and cannot seem to find persuasive evidence from either camp with which to make a firm decision as to which side I'll take. The logical side of my mind tells me that yes, there is the chance that we will be wiped off the planet and will no longer hold sway over the ecology of said planet. The spiritual side of my brain tells me to start praying regularly, to get my karma aligned with my shakra or some other such silly sounding thing, and that this is my last opportunity to make as many contributions to the positive portion of my spritual account as I can before tha Big Guy/Gal cashes me out!
I desperately want to believe that the chances of Humanity being "offed" by a seven mile wide hunk of space-rock are cosmically huge and that I have no real need to worry. I would love to believe that sometime in the near future, scientists will be able to construct weapons that will dart through Space to pulverize would-be planet killers. And I also find comfort in the dream that human beings are so damned smart, we'll find a way to hunker down in subterranean caves riddles throughout the Earth to ride out any impacts. Honestly, I've seen humans living in conditions that boggle the mind, and with the resiliency and persistance we possess, humans live and thrive in Arctic, Saharan, and every other biome in between. I sometimes believe we'll outlive the cockroaches.
So, where does that leave me? Still riding that top rail, looking with a gimlet eye at either side of the fence and thinking that this is where my mind is the safest, but my butt may be in mortal peril.
I think I'll go make a pitcher of Margaritas and start digging my fallout shelter in the basement. See you after the impact!
It seems that the Aztecs, in their frighteningly sophisticated understanding of time, had constructed a calendar that was so accurate, that it rivaled those of the ancient Egyptians, the Romans, the Renaissance thinkers and scientists and actually were able to predict occasions that they could not physically observe, such as the time when our Solar System would pass through the Galactic Plane. It is this last point in time that is a bit bizarre, in as much as the Aztec calendar stops in the year 2012, December 21st to be precise.
What modern scientists have alluded to recently is that the preponderance of catastrophic asteroid/meteor inpacts on this planet seem to have occured when our solar system crossed the Galactic Plane. And with the technology of our skyward scanning telescopes, astronomists have the ability to locate and identify the orbits and proximity of asteroids that are on possible collision paths with our planet.
Naturally, this kind of information spawns thousands of articles citing the potential end of the world and the eradication of Mankind due to an asteroid or meteor strike like those that have previously caused extinctions in the past. And instead of a bearded ascetic parading up and down the sidewalk wearing a sandwich board stating "Repent, The End Is Near", we have the Internet, with its dire and frantic proclamations from cult adherents and pseudoscientists.
To a fault, I am perpetually balanced on the top rail of the fence that separates stark logic from spritualism, the world of the mind from the world of the heart, and cannot seem to find persuasive evidence from either camp with which to make a firm decision as to which side I'll take. The logical side of my mind tells me that yes, there is the chance that we will be wiped off the planet and will no longer hold sway over the ecology of said planet. The spiritual side of my brain tells me to start praying regularly, to get my karma aligned with my shakra or some other such silly sounding thing, and that this is my last opportunity to make as many contributions to the positive portion of my spritual account as I can before tha Big Guy/Gal cashes me out!
I desperately want to believe that the chances of Humanity being "offed" by a seven mile wide hunk of space-rock are cosmically huge and that I have no real need to worry. I would love to believe that sometime in the near future, scientists will be able to construct weapons that will dart through Space to pulverize would-be planet killers. And I also find comfort in the dream that human beings are so damned smart, we'll find a way to hunker down in subterranean caves riddles throughout the Earth to ride out any impacts. Honestly, I've seen humans living in conditions that boggle the mind, and with the resiliency and persistance we possess, humans live and thrive in Arctic, Saharan, and every other biome in between. I sometimes believe we'll outlive the cockroaches.
So, where does that leave me? Still riding that top rail, looking with a gimlet eye at either side of the fence and thinking that this is where my mind is the safest, but my butt may be in mortal peril.
I think I'll go make a pitcher of Margaritas and start digging my fallout shelter in the basement. See you after the impact!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
