Infamous SOTD reorientation

I was reading my past posts and I thought, "dag-nabbit, I could write!". I was always a good creative writer, but getting my brain and fingers back to semi normalcy just to flow my thoughts here has been quite a chore.  I usually just freeform type, as I would just talk to someone, one-on-one.  Now, I have to pre-form my thoughts before I type, just so it makes some kind of non-ADD sense.  I need a professional editor, or control my wandering mind...SQUIRREL!

I was planning to make a YouTube channel and film stuff, but i'm still terrible at reading from a scripted dialog I wrote.  After 30 takes on the first paragraph, I decided I had more mental work to do and called it quits for now.  I'll eventually do it.  I can talk fine with just spontaneous talk so far.

But, I need to get back to focusing my head and doing this blog religiously as I did years before (has it really been years?!).  I still got stories to tell, it seems, and I think I can resuscitate this...

Which leads me to this:  I'm coauthoring my girlfriend, Whitneys, infamous Song of the Day blog.  This is where she posts musical acts and songs she likes but doesn't think anyone really knows about.  She's got about the same musical tastes as me, and many groups she's liked in the past that were unknowns became quite big.  Not to sound all hipster, and such.  Take a look at the dates of some of these posts.

Lately, it's been more of a "Song of the Moment" as it's almost bi-monthly now.  So, I offered to write and present inbetweeners, such as I've done in animation, to fill up the slack.

My "Michaels Sidetracks" will be weekly and will reflect music I've liked and styles I produce.  Hopefully, this exorcise will re-orientate my fingers and focus my head to do this blog properly again.  Should be fun.  Give a listen, wont you?  And, I'll be back...

Archive for the Infamous SOTD

Beauty in Sadness

Nothing makes you feel so small and helpless, than seeing someone you care about cry.

Nothing cuts you to the core than seeing someone so strong and proud, drop the curtain on their heart, and let you see there pain. To have so much pride striped away, choking back tears. Not wanting you to see this side of themselves. To see that they too, are as frail and imperfect as the rest of us.

And nothing is more humbling then a friend feeling that safe about you, to open up that wound in your presence.

And thats the true beauty in sadness.

The Gayness Show

Way back in my early twenties, I was seeing this girl and we'd go out quite a bit and do things like see movies and stuff.

It was quite nice and we'd talk and talk for hours. And I thought, zounds! (well, I didn't actually say that, but you get the gist, right?), We sure do get along afully swell together! (I might have actually said that, I am a dork). And I was thinking, she's comfortable with me as well.....

Talking about the troubles with her boyfriend she's seeing on and off. Yeah. Nice.

But wait a sec, If she's enjoying her time with me, and we do have a fantastic time, well, she must like me, right?

And this is where I realized something I've never phantomed before. Why I always seem to be the best-est guy friend of all these fantastic girls over the years. The one 'buddy" thay they always feel so comfortable with discussing things tou wouldn't just tell anyone. I used to thing perhaps, I exuded this aura of trust, and maybe a bit of pine tar for freshness.

The big hint was taking Rose to a movie. We were having a seat in the desired center rows and I was leaning in closer to her as she spoke. The movie was about to start when she said something about having something to eat afterwards.

I smiled at her, and said "I'm game!"

...And the most odd look came over her face as she looked at me with a cocked eyebrow of puzzlement. I then got my answer on how I am percieved.

"You're gay?!"

It was dead silent as the lights went down and all I saw before the blackness was all thses heads swiveling about to see the guy who just aparently "came out of the closet" as the movie preshow. I was speachless.

so THATS why she hung out with me! She was so ready to see I was gay!

Frustration

I'm beginning to think strokes are very frustrating. First the unable to walk and speak annoyance, then all the hubub of trying to cultivate replacement brain cells to fix all that. You'd think whatever "higher power" would make this easier. Okay, I get it: damnation upon my heathen soul. Remove my motor skills, my eyesight, my vocal range, my talent, just to make me fear the thought of a "caring" mystical spirit. Not the way I'd go about it, but i'm not all powerful, apparently.

If anything, I've seen my own strength grow. And then I have to hear people say to me, I've been "blessed" to have been given the chance to see this within myself. Praise God, or whomever for his (or her) love. All I can think of is, "thanks for giving me no credit on my resolve

EDIT: Talk about irony. This post was originally almost three pages long with tons of insightful information of my philosophy, theology, and the hell of applying for Social disability. I also commented on why I haven't done my You tube vids yet, and how hard it is to write all this, with brakes and finger tapping. I post it, and then find out all but two paragraphs remain. Frustration.

I don't even have much hope that this edit will show right now...

Hope you're having a better day than I.

Rapure Hit the Snooze Button, I Guess

Y'know, I don't quite like talking, pontificating as it were, about religion. I mean, If worshiping God or a broccoli spear makes you more comfortable in life, good on you and I wish you well. But I have to say a few things about this Harold Camping and his "prophesy" about the end of the world May 21, 2011.

I wouldn't mind so much, but it's all over the place, and why he decided the day after my birthday, I don't know. Probably distracted people from getting me sweet gifts, too. I even felt bad for those poor shlubs that spent all of their hard earned life savings on the "100% guaranteed" rapture date. And, as you can tell, by me typing this, It didn't happen as promised. I bet there's egg on somebodies face now, huh?

Yes, this ancient Rev Harold Camping, calculated some numerology tricks that told him somehow that the end of the world was happening Saturday May 21st 2011. Actually, what he promised was that on the 21st, all the "chosen people would go "poof" and be transported to heaven, the rest of us sinners will live till October 21st 2011 in utter torment till the earth blows up or turns into a Dr. Suess or Bizzarro world or something.

When nothing happened at 6pm as was predicted (And what time zone does God use anyway), I predicted the possible excuses he could use on his flock...

1.) Ha ha! This was a test of your faith!
2.) the rapture did happen1 don't you see it, non-believer?
3.) Due to our faith and praying, the event has been postponed until further notice. But it's gonna happen...
4.) What I meant to say was, it was the end of the old ways, and time for a new beginning with a bigger spiritual world. Good job, people!! We did it!

What I didn't expect him to say was...

5.) oops...sorry...I'm not a modern day prophet and I am sad and old, and probably had too much tank oxygen that day. Sorry, go about your lives and be happy...

And you know what?! Turns out I am a better prophet than Harold Camping!!!

Two days later, he came out in public and he chose excuses 1,2,3, AND 4. the 21st had the "expected" spiritual rapture as God chose that day for his judgement, then he's gonna sleep on it for a while till October 21st and do his mojo then. Oooohhhhh....and I thought Camping was just wrong.

I also predicted that although this is the second time he predicted wrong (the first in 1994) he's still going to have believers follow him somehow. At that point, I stopped feeling sorry for those who spent their life savings on Harold's words (he sure as hell doesn't feel bad. Even said on his radio program, it's not his responsibility as he never actually told these people to spend their money on his quest. But, he also didn't say not to. And he himself, said he wouldn't give up his home or car.)

I say, practice whatever makes you happy. No one is better than anyone else. Don't tell me what I believe in is the wrong religion while yours it right. I try to be good person , and that's my center. I don't need or want anyone like Harold Camping to place his USDA stamp of approval on the back of my hand so i can get into Heavens nightclub. It should be as simple as, you good= go to heaven, collect $200.

And if the rapture does come October 21st, I guess there'll be egg on my face and I should have gotten my hand Harold stamped. at least I'll be in good company and with lots of left behind pets. It'll be like My Little Pet Shop.

Be good humans.