Mental Regurgitation

I desire her intensely. I often fixate on one of her physical attributes while she is distracted, such as the curves of her hair as it sweeps down her shoulder, or the microscopic geography of her lips. She is exquisite, and I fear that, blinded by everything else, I'm drawn to her by weakness, that my passion for her is incomplete.
When we talk, I often forget what I'm saying and grow dizzy with many variations of desire - some base, some ordinary, and some ethereal. Sometimes we tease, and sometimes we are earnest. But always, after our contention has spawned cool fire, we begin to kiss.
But she is gone.
In her absence, I'm drawn to many things that, in being beautiful, are her allies. The way the ocean bursts into brilliant flame when the sun assaults the horizon, a dark waving branch with waxen leaves, a sight of the stars through a cut in the trees, a girl throwing back her hair to the irresistible rhythm of a song. A concordance of colors compressed into a torchlit line of sight. The rain like ten thousand bb's hammering on beaten copper. I see the lightning, I feel my chest vibrate with each concussion, the bolts lashing out from hidden places as if they are calling me to things so stunning and unexpected that I cannot begin to imagine them.
I will see, touch, taste, and feel everything.

Courtesy of TheOnion.com

NEW BRUNSWICK, NJ—After decades of coddling young children, Johnson & Johnson unveiled its new "Nothing But Tears" shampoo this week, an aggressive bath-time product the company says will help to prepare meek and fragile newborns for the real world.
A radical departure for the health goods manufacturer, the new shampoo features an all-alcohol-based formula, has never once been approved by leading dermatologists, and is as gentle on a baby's skin as "having to grow up and fend for your goddamn self."
"We at Johnson & Johnson have been making bath time a safe and soothing experience for far too long," company CEO William C. Weldon said. "Years of pampering have left our newborns helpless, feeble, and ill-equipped for the arduous road ahead."
"It's time our children got the wake-up call that's been coming to them," Weldon continued. "It's time they cried their precious little eyes out."
The result of five years of intensive research and market testing, the company's "Nothing But Tears" shampoo contains only the most abrasive of natural ingredients and is nearly impossible to rinse from a baby's screaming face. According to directions printed on the label, the bath-time product is best used with scalding hot water for optimal toughening-up of newborns.
Available in an easy-to-find-and-open bottle, the new shampoo is also guaranteed to give children a "healthy dose of reality."
"You'll notice a difference after just one use," said Michelle Baker, head of new product development. "Whether it's your newborn's more hardened appearance, the way he now approaches people with guarded skepticism, or just that look on his face that says, 'Oh wait, maybe life isn't all hugs and kisses and rainbows. Maybe I need to get my fucking act together.'"
Added Baker, "Johnson & Johnson will kick your baby's ass into gear."
A publicity campaign for the tear-inducing shampoo has already begun, with Johnson & Johnson debuting a series of television ads to push the baby-care product. In one of the minute-long spots, scheduled to air later this week, a mother cradles her crying newborn in her arms. As time passes, the weeping infant grows increasingly older, until the now elderly woman struggles to hold up her 48-year-old, 230-pound son. A voiceover announcer asks viewers, "Worried your child will never toughen up? At Johnson & Johnson, we can help."
After rigorous product testing at the company's research headquarters in New Jersey, the new "Nothing But Tears" shampoo was found to give newborns up to three times greater resilience than the leading competitor, as well as a stronger grasp on the crushing disappointment that is life. In addition, when combined with Johnson & Johnson's new line of bleach-based conditioners, the shampoo resulted in noticeably thicker skin after only six uses.
In recent years, a growing number of parents have begun looking for ways to raise more adequately jaded toddlers, and Johnson & Johnson is not the first company to respond to the rising demand. In 2003, Fisher-Price unveiled a new adventure play set containing 85 easy-to-choke-on pieces, and in 2006, the Walt Disney Company introduced an interactive DVD entitled Baby's First Brush With A Cruel And Unforgiving World.
Whether or not Johnson & Johnson's new move will ultimately pay off remains to be seen. However, reaction to the tantrum-provoking shampoo has thus far been positive.
"My 13-month-old used to be a total pushover," said new mother Catherine Smith. "But ever since I started washing her hair with 'Nothing But Tears' shampoo, not only does my little Debra kick and scream and wail, but yesterday she said her first words: 'No, Mommy, don't.'"
Despite testimonials from satisfied customers, some concerned parents have come out against the new shampoo.
"To knowingly upset your baby like that is downright cruel," said Hershey, PA homemaker Barbara Sterling. "My child is going to lose his blissful sense of innocence the old-fashioned way—by coming home from school one day only to learn that his parents are getting a divorce."

Awakening

I’m starting to understand. I feel the door to revelation cracking, and I bathe in the light coming through. I get glimpses every so often, like little lightning storms in my head. Moments of clarity.
We are slaves. Infected by mind-viruses from an early age, many of us have no idea why we believe the things we do. In religion and politics, most have gotten their convictions at second-hand, without examination, from other non-examiners, who in turn took them from idiots whose opinions weren’t worth a confederate dollar.
We will blindly follow our pre-constructed beliefs because we are afraid. Show a man hell, and he’ll be frightened towards heaven. Then, when his fear subsides, not only will he be ashamed of his weakness, he’ll come back more malignantly wicked than before.
We must abandon our illusions and destroy these structures that imprison our minds.
I will shed my fear, these notions that society tries to cram down my throat. It’s high time for a self-administered, existential Heimlich maneuver. I’m struggling to the top of this summit, and the air up here is very sweet.

Open Wide

This is a gem I found on one of the menus from a popular take-out joint near my work...
For when regular vacations just dont cut it!

Gone, not forgotten

These thoughts invade my mind. They take me back to times that are by turns too painful and beautiful to remember. I’ve never wanted to be one of those, who, like absinthe drinkers, are lost in dreams. Still, I go back.
You cannot remain in the past, and you can’t bring back the dead. I see them; they appear so alive and vital, I almost convince myself that if I believe enough, they’ll return. But it’s all in vain; for though your memory may come tantalizingly close, and though your heart breaks while you wither under the power of its lash, your past stays in your head, and your hands clutch at ghosts.
It’s as though the gods crack the door to eternity and allow you a glimpse, then slam it in your face, saying “leave it to us”...as if the whole thing were only a lesson.
But to see the beauty in this is to grasp the ropes of light that run uninterrupted between life and death. Touching them is an act of hope, for perhaps our loved ones on the other side, if there is another side, are touching them too.

The Guns

The sound of artillery is visceral and blood-chilling. The concussion is felt mainly in the chest and throat, blurring vision and emptying the mind of all thought. Those who hear it are taken to a distant place; alien, cold, and unfamiliar.
Its blast appears to have escaped from a fissure in the ground, and the thunderous roar is unmistakable, different from the aerial tantrums we associate it with.
The cacophony of a rolling barrage breaks as smoothly as a wave, but sets the soul adrift in an ocean of darkness.

Hope

I take in the grace of the surrounding seascape like a blind man whose vision is suddenly restored, not in a drab clinic, but on a high and windy promontory overlooking half the world. Though the only noise is the thunder of the sea, I take music from my memory and fuse it with the sound of wind and waves. The fullness of the clouds and the sparkling of the sun on shattered liquid brings tranquility and profound bliss.
Though I feel the end approaching - the end of the familiar, the rearrangement of the elements of beauty... I believe that as the night presses it's ever-expanding claim, the things in which I put my faith will come most alive, and fight their undoing by rising up to their full and majestic height.
After suffering must come redemption. Of this I have no doubt.

The Tandem Story

Here's a prime example of "Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus" offered by an English professor from the University of Phoenix. The professor told his class one day:

"Today we will experiment with a new form called the tandem story. The process is simple. Each person will pair off with the person sitting to his or her immediate right. As homework tonight, one of you will write the first paragraph of a short story. You will e-mail your partner that paragraph and send another copy to me. The partner will read the first paragraph and then add another paragraph to the story and send it back, also sending another copy to me. The first person will then add a third paragraph, and so on back-and-forth. Remember to re-read what has been written each time in order to keep the story coherent. There is to be absolutely NO talking outside of the e-mails and anything you wish to say must be written in the e-mail. The story is over when both agree a conclusion has been reached."

The following was actually turned in by two of his English students, Rebecca and Gary. THE STORY:

(First paragraph by Rebecca) At first, Laurie couldn't decide which kind of tea she wanted. The chamomile, which used to be her favorite for lazy evenings at home, now reminded her too much of Carl, who once said, in happier times, that he liked chamomile. But she felt she must now, at all costs, keep her mind off Carl. His possessiveness was suffocating, and if she thought about him too much her asthma started acting up again. So chamomile was out of the question.

(Second paragraph by Gary) Meanwhile, Advance Sergeant Carl Harris, leader of the attack squadron now in orbit over Skylon 4, had more important things to think about than the neuroses of an air-headed asthmatic bimbo named Laurie with whom he had spent one sweaty night over a year ago. " A.S. Harris to Geostation 17," he said into his transgalactic communicator. "Polar orbit established. No sign of resistance so far..." But before he could sign off a bluish particle beam flashed out of nowhere and blasted a hole through his ship's cargo bay. The jolt from the direct hit sent him flying out of his seat and across the cockpit.

(Rebecca) He bumped his head and died almost immediately, but not before he felt one last pang of regret for psychically brutalizing the one woman who had ever had feelings for him. Soon afterwards, Earth stopped its pointless hostilities towards the peaceful farmers of Skylon 4. "Congress Passes Law Permanently Abolishing War and Space Travel," Laurie read in her newspaper one morning. The news simultaneously excited her and bored her. She stared out the window, dreaming of her youth, when the days had passed unhurriedly and carefree, with no newspaper to read, no television to distract her from her sense of innocent wonder at all the beautiful things around her."Why must one lose one's innocence to become a woman?" she pondered wistfully.

(Gary) Little did she know, but she had less than 10 seconds to live. Thousands of miles above the city, the Anu'udrian mothership launched the first of its lithium fusion missiles. The dim-witted wimpy peaceniks who pushed the Unilateral Aerospace Disarmament Treaty through the congress had left Earth a defenseless target for the hostile alien empires who were determined to destroy the human race. Within two hours after the passage of the treaty the Anu'udrian ships were on course for Earth, carrying enough firepower to pulverize the entire planet. With no one to stop them, they swiftly initiated their diabolical plan. The lithium fusion missile entered the atmosphere unimpeded. The President, in his top-secret mobile submarine headquarters on the ocean floor off the coast of Guam , felt the inconceivably massive explosion, which vaporized poor, stupid Laurie.

(Rebecca) This is absurd. I refuse to continue this mockery of literature. My writing partner is a violent, chauvinistic semi-literate adolescent.

(Gary) Yeah? Well, my writing partner is a self-centered tedious neurotic whose attempts at writing are the literary equivalent of Valium. "Oh, shall I have chamomile tea? Or shall I have some other sort of F--ING TEA??? Oh no, what am I to do? I'm such an air headed bimbo who reads too many Danielle Steele novels!"

(Rebecca) Asshole.

(Gary) Bitch

(Rebecca) F__CK YOU - YOU NEANDERTHAL!

(Gary) Go drink some tea - whore.


(TEACHER) A+ ! I really liked this one.