Saturday, May 10, 2008

Go Kill Yourself - No, Don't


Disturbed (one of my favorite groups) - Inside The Fire

Note: Devon was lead singer David Draiman 's girlfriend. The lyrics portray the devil recommending that David kill himself in the depths of his despair after discovering that his girlfriend had committed suicide.


Inside The Fire
by Disturbed

Devon
Won't go to heaven
She's just another lost soul, about to be mine again
Leave her
we will receive her
It is beyond your control
will you ever meet again

Devon
No longer living
Who had been rendered unwhole.
As a little child,
she was taken
and then forsaken
you will remember it all
Let it blow your mind again


Devon lies beyond this portal
take the word of one immortal
Give your soul to me
For eternity
release your life
to begin another time with her
End your grief with me
there's another way
release your life
take your place inside the fire with love

Sever
Now and forever
you're just another lost soul about to be mine again
see her, you'll never free her
you must surrender it all
And give life to me again

Fire
All you desire
As she begins to turn cold and run out of time


you will shiver
till you deliver
you will remember it all
Let it blow your mind again

Devon lies beyond this portal
take the word of one immortal
Give your soul to me
For eternity
release your life
to begin another time with her
End your grief with me
there's another way
release your life
take your place inside the fire with love


[solo]

Give your soul to me
For eternity
release your life
to begin another time with her
End your grief with me
there's another way
release your life
take your place inside the fire with love


Devon
No longer living
Who had been rendered unwhole.
As a little child
she was taken,
and then forsaken
you will remember it all
Let it blow your mind again (less)

END


Question Time

Under what circumstances is it acceptable to end one's own life?

I feel that such a decision would be acceptable, but only under certain circumstances. Circumstances which we might all face if we lived long enough.


List of Unacceptable Circumstances

Drug or Alcohol Addiction
Incarceration
Broken Heart
Financial Problems
Act of Terrorism
Act of Revenge Against a Loved One


List of Acceptable Circumstances

After Killing Others - Criminally*
In Extreme Non-Stop Physical Pain
High Probability of Extended Psychological Stress Due to Terminal Health Condition
To Save Another's Life

Probably not a complete list either way.

* This one would be very controversial for those who would say that the guilt that the killer felt - driving them to suicide - proves that the killer is not beyond redemption - and that the killer could accept salvation - and still live a Christian life behind bars, and even go to heaven.
.
.

Friday, May 09, 2008

Writing The Fence

Writing the Fence

Several years of blogging has left me asking questions about the nature of this relatively new cultural phenomena called blogging. A dictionary type description of blogging might state that blogging is the act of placing one's thoughts, one's daily diary, onto the world stage via the Internet, and that blogging is a means by which individuals speak out to other individuals and groups through semi permanent essays posted to the Internet. While those descriptions may describe what blogging is, I am left to wonder what blogging "really" is, and why we who blog do it.

I'm fairly certain that I'm not the only blogger to wonder why I write, and I'm fairly sure that I'm not the only blogger to wonder for whom I am writing? I've usually settled on the following answer - because I can - yet I find that answer lacking. I don't mow the grass because I can, or go to work because I can. I do those things because I have to do those things, but blogging isn't obligatory for most bloggers, and so I suspect blogging is more a form of recreation - that is RE-CREATION. And in any form of creative process there is a starting point, and ending point, and expectations of what one will achieve in the end. For me the expectation of self growth is paramount.

I view blogging as a means to self growth. I have used this public forum as a means of putting to word various ideas which I may have held onto for many years, and conversely I've used blogging to document ideas that were fresh to me. Learning to express my ideas through the written word is a growth process for me. Taking risk, and being vulnerable to the consequences of sharing who I am is also a growth experience for me.

I've written poems, songs, prayers, plays, short stories, critiques, prose, documentary essays, personal history, and I've included photographs which I have taken, or photos which others have taken, and even art work.

I've seen how in each post I have become just a little bit better at writing, and yet I feel as if I have only begun.

I've also shared my ideas on politics, religion, and a broad range of topics, and I'm no longer an anonymous silent observer. I can no longer deny what I believe, for I have stated it to the world - and I've just begun.

My intention for this post is to explore the question of whether by choosing to post our diaries to a public forum that bloggers find themselves pressured to distort their thoughts into forms which they believe and even hope will be met with approval by their readers.

I believe the answer most certainly is in the affirmative.


Do I Write For You?


Who do bloggers write for? I can state boldly that I don't write for you dear readers, but the truth is that I do write for you. This statement is seemingly distraught with contradiction, and yet each element is quite honestly stated.

I write for myself, yet I believe, and even hope that others may be reading my words. I have, like other bloggers, found myself crafting thoughts in ways which I believed would be both understood, and accepted by at least some of my readers. I find this experience both liberating, and confining.

Despite my awareness that others may be reading what I write, and my desire to please any potential readers I ultimately believe that write for myself. Therefore the expression, "To thine own self be true", becomes paramount in my considerations for what I write about, and the way that I write.


Do I Remain True?

I believe that it is my obligation to try to be honest about what I believe in my postings, but not always. Yes, you read it right - not always. For I believe that anyone who believes they are being entirely honest is delusional. Honesty is a goal in writing, and it may not be always be the best goal at all times when all things are considered.

Honesty, or what we believe honesty is can be a trap of false expectations. Honesty can in fact stifle the creative process and prevent one from exploring aspects of existence, experience, and persona that one might feel too dangerous to reveal - and thus creating a facade or many false faces can be liberating in ways that so called honesty could never be.


An Honest Intent Is The Key

I've read some blogs in which each post is so carefully constructed that one could never tell what the blogger feels - and that I find to be a tragic waste of time. These bloggers feel that they must construct postings which allow them room to escape any accusation of taking a stand - and I find that pathetic.

We live once, and our lives are exceedingly short, and then we're gone forever - and yet people still feel that they can't express themselves even through their own online diaries.

Most of the world's population live in fear of being jailed for expressing their true beliefs. The simple act of expressing a thought is enough to land the majority of humanity in a cage.

Think!

From China to Saudi Arabia bloggers are being imprisoned for simply expressing thoughts, so it is especially disconcerting to read blogs sourced from democratic nations in which word play has replaced passion, and conviction.

People are afraid to reveal their true beliefs for fear of recrimination, or of being misunderstood.

I personally have lost a good friend of nearly forty years not based upon any action, but upon simple words upon a page - so the danger is real. People fear losing their jobs, being blackballed, being made a suspect in the eyes of their community, or the law for simply exploring and sharing thoughts.

We apes are far from learning how to live with one another - very far indeed.

Blogging entails risk - and therefore people are afraid to commit to others who they really are, and it is evident in how people chose what to write about, and how they convey themselves.

I appreciate the fears of being labeled a sexist, racist, ageist, ethno-centrist, homophobic, anti-Semite, anti-Islamic, anti-Christian, anti-Buddhist, religious intolerant, fascist, communist, capitalist, socialist, atheist, agnostic, theist, pantheist, deist, Democrat, Republican, conservative, liberal, a class discriminator - kind of guy.

Those fears are always there, even when I don't recognize their existence, or their affect.


When I cross the line

I suspect that one of the more persistent concerns that any non-anonymous blogger must have is whether they have ventured past the boundaries of good taste, and political correctness. In nations like China where bloggers fear of being imprisoned for simply stating facts, and opinions the task is made simple - don't talk about certain subjects which the Chinese dictatorship would frown upon, however, in the democracies the task of establishing how far to venture into controversy is given to the masses - the masses of readers of every conviction and interest.

In the democracies advocacy toward politically correctness is the means of control used by every group or individual with a cause - and bloggers who allow comments are subjected to pressure to conform to this censorship by a million comments, or face being cast out.

This pressure to conform to potential online critics, haters as some refer to them, has me wondering if there is a point at which I as an individual writer have a right to choose what to believe, and what to express without fear, and without guilt, or doubt?

Could I ever be so brave, or naive, to believe that without the protection of anonymity, that many bloggers believe they have, that I could "get away" with expressing myself freely? For I am not an anonymous blogger, and there is no illusion of anonymity for me. What I write on this blog appears to create some ripples, very small perhaps, but real. And I find that both exhilarating, and frightening.



Why do I write?


In the end I must ask myself - if I were to die a moment after I submitted these words for online publication - would they reflect my honest feelings - at least at the moment I wrote them?

Yes, I have been honest and true to myself - or at least I believe those words are true.

However, this doesn't mean I haven't been dishonest, wrong, crude, evil, imperfect, ignorant, politically incorrect, hateful, self centered, immature, or any of the labels which you dear readers decide to apply to me.

It is true that I am all of those horrible things at various times, yet I hope that I have at the least avoided skimming along the top of the fence. I hope that I have displayed some level of integrity by sharing my beliefs as honestly as I can, and that I have used this blog to reveal my "true" self - flaws and all.

I don't ask for forgiveness for being myself, nor do I ask for a pass for the simple act of expressing that self on my own blog - my own diary. In the end no one is making you read these words - but something is driving me to write them - and it is to that something that I owe the higher obligation - despite the cost.

In the end let this blog be my vehicle of self examination, self growth, and my own little playground of ideas - be they considered correct, or not - for it can not be all things to all people, and still be me.

I will pledge only one thing to you dear readers - and that is that I won't be writing the fence - I will fall down on one side or the other - even if I find myself having to pull myself out of the mud.

Thursday, May 08, 2008

His Will Be Done


The Voices Inside My Head Must Stop!


Genesis 22:9


Then they came to the place of which God had told him; and Abraham built the altar there and arranged the wood, and bound his son Isaac and laid him on the altar, on top of the wood.


Genesis 22:10

Abraham stretched out his hand and took the knife to slay his son


Related: Red Tulips of Death

Wednesday, May 07, 2008

Red Tulips Of Death


Red Tulips of Death


Red Tulips of Death
A Short Story
By Jerome Prophet


Danny: These flowers are for you Mommy!

Mommy: Oh how beautiful, give Mommy a kiss.

Danny: Here Mommy!

Mommy: They are very beautiful, but where did you get them Danny?

Danny: I took them from the yard with the red house Mommy.

The mother's smile immediately faded.

Mommy: Danny, how many times have I warned you not to take flowers from that yard?

Danny: But Mommy I got them for you because you are so beautiful, and I love you!

Mommy: Oh sweetie, I know you meant well, but it's wrong to take things that aren't yours.

Danny: But they have so many two lips they won't miss them, will they Mommy?

Mommy: Maybe not, but it's wrong anyway. We mustn't do it again.

Danny: No Mommy I won't.

Mommy: No Danny, I know you won't.

Danny: Here's one more I put in my pocket. It's a bit crumpled.

Mommy: Be a good boy then, and go get me a vase from the cabinet - a blue one.

Danny: Yes Mommy!

Mommy: Walk, don't run! What do I always tell you?

Danny: O.K.


As the little boy went to retrieve the blue vase the mother opened a drawer and pulled out some scissors. She carefully cut the ends of each flower's stem at just the right angle.

The little boy returned with the blue vase.

Danny: Here Mommy!

The boy's mommy took the vase from her little boy's hands, placed the flowers into the blue vase, and filled the vase with fresh cool water. She placed the vase on the kitchen table.

She then stabbed the little boy repeatedly with the scissors in his head and chest.

Mommy: That will teach you to steal!

The little boy slowly sank to the kitchen floor with a blank expression upon his little face. The floor around his crumpled lifeless body turned bright red with his fresh warm blood.

The blood perfectly complimented the beautiful red flowers in the bright blue vase.

The End

They Are The Urban Rabbits


Urban Rabbit @ 7th & Washington - Springfield, Illinois


They Are the Urban Rabbits

Hopping along from grassy field to grassy field they enter the suburbs - detected.

Darting deeper, and deeper, they cross the invisible line which separates suburban from urban unknowingly.

Skipping across vast stretches of barren warm asphalt they search for food and water.

And dart cars.

But there are fewer dogs - they tell themselves.

The scent of fresh flowers carried upon the breeze guides them.

Until finally they arrive.

And eat.

And nibble.

And chew.

And make baby rabbits.

To repeat the cycle once again.

They are the Urban Rabbits.

Sunday, May 04, 2008

Nice Day

Today was a nice day.

I awoke fully rested, and took my daughter to work. She has her own car, but she saves gas this way, and it gives me a chance to talk with her.

When I arrived home I decided to mow the grass for the first time this year. The weather was fantastic. Not a cloud in the beautiful blue sky. Nice and warm, but never hot. The breeze was just right, never cold, but slightly ever so slightly cool. No mosquitoes, or insects to cause problems. Just perfect weather with all the trees in bloom.


A Dirty Z24

I then pulled our cars out of the garage, and hosed down the garage, and the driveway. How did all that dust, and muck, get in there? This had to be one of the worst winters in years, and boy did it ruin our streets, and I guess all the dust and salt came in with the snow.

I then washed both cars, and cleaned them inside and out.


A Clean Mercury Mountaineer

And then picked my daughter up at work, and our little family went out to eat - Chinese - not the people - the food.

And then I relaxed a bit when I came home, and ordered a new cell phone for my daughter - her third in one year.

I went grocery shopping, and just got back home.

We plan to have a little dinner tonight with ice cream cake.

I have a bit of a rosy color on my arms, and face - I never tan as I'm too light complected, but all the sunlight has put me into a good state.

Now, it's back to work tomorrow - argh.

In a few weeks I'll be taking a vacation - my first for the year - so I'm hoping to have many nice weather days like this.

email jp

  • jeromeprophet@gmail.com

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