Smoke and Mirrors

In a perfect world . . .

Month: April 2011

Strange days are totally Googlable

Google, post card, weird news

With hundreds of red-winged blackbirds falling dead out of the sky in Louisiana,
more tornadoes than the NOAA can count,
earthquakes the magnitudes of which the world has never seen,
tropical cyclones that can only be classified as deadly and a massive oil spill that was the worst
environmental disaster of all time, I thought it was high time for some good news.
Some funny news.
Maybe even some fake and made up news.
Anything but the bullshit the media gives us.
Just scanning the web I found a number of interesting stories.
Thank you Google.

Like THIS one.
Heartwarming and true.

Or THIS one.
Not so heartwarming but probably true.

Or THIS one.
Not heartwarming at all but damn funny in a very dark and Pan’s Labyrinth kind of way.

There, you feel better already, yes?
And no, I am not getting up at 3AM to watch the Royal Wedding.
I need my beauty sleep, for God’s sake . . .



“The Gospels do not explain Easter, Easter explains the Gospels.”

-J.S. Whale (slightly adapted)

Nuff said . . .





I went to see the ‘Passion of the Christ’ on Palm Sunday of 2004.
I was alone because reviews of the film repulsed my wife and she wanted to simply stay away.
The theater was crowded that Sunday and I was surprised that I understood 99% of the movie although
it was all Aramaic subtitles.
From the beginning, I had goosebumps because the movie portrayed Christ as I thought of him.
The scene that bothered me most was the scourging. (this link is intensely disturbing)
The man sitting next to me was crying like a baby.
Just like me.
That one man endured and suffered all that he did FOR ME was almost humanly incomprehensible,
but in a positive way.
I believe in one man.
And I always will.
HE is.
I wish for you new beginnings, budding flowers, green grass and the best of health, maybe  a basil plant that grows faster than a night’s sleep for good measure.

Happy Easter to all and here’s to this thing we call life.
And hard boiled eggs.


Black Eyed Saint


Apathy that’s palpable
As [St.] Anthony bleeds . . .


Time is like liquid,
an ephemeral step towards truth;
the marching forward of decades,
and finally seconds.
Sloppy seconds at best when you consider the moments that are totally wasted.
Time is like water,
dripping endlessly towards an endless sea of little to no meaning.
Or not.
3:13Am is no time to be kicking your legs off the covers.
Unless you can see the dials of the clock . . .


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