Commentary on the conversations of our time...

Saturday, September 09, 2006

Stuck in the mud with the greatest of ease

- Stuck in the mud with the greatest of ease -

Kind of like numb.

Or alive like lightning.

All or nothing and everything in between.

Not unlike white noise of such sufficient volume and thickness to drown out the loudest storm.

Did you hear of the latest air crash? The war wagged by the dog is over? Gas fell 30c and is now a dime or two under 3 bucks. Sign Kyoto yet?

Of course auto insurance is up, as the hurricane tempts the nerves on the 1 year anniversary.

Not unlike the curse of 3 generations of alcoholic haze.

Where is the light of day when the clearest skies are day after day? What day is it?

Some say the dawning of the Age of Aquarius, the Mayans say December 21, 2012.

The cost of a college education is about the same as a high-end first year salary? Or also about 2 times a good one? Or about 4 times a normal one?

Anyone ever been the luckiest guy on the face of the earth, and have the weight of the world on your shoulders at the same time?

Since the day you were born?

Got a shovel? Anyone dig holes faster than the greatest super hero?

Of course the gold nuggets of the most gleam rarely sit on the surface.

But then every now and then a diamond sapphire or ruby glistens in the washed gravel bed of the stream too.

I wonder if anyone still wants his or her MTV, or perhaps reality TV is the new cliché.

Read anything good lately? How about the drilling of an IPod, IS the white noise the channel of choice?


Sounds like a song from some Top 40 computer program.

Its a fucking mazing what the world sounds like with sound absorbing earmuffs on after about an hour - and you then take them off.

Just for fun try it.

Try it in all the different settings of your fish bowl.

Its not unlike setting down in a garden after years of concrete jungles.

A moment sitting on the shore of a quite beach, after a lifelong career in the garbage dump.

Perhaps a moment, or better an endless string of moments, after a decade of super highway semi commerce.

At the end of the day I want my cake, and I intend to eat it too.

Perhaps if we all have to earn our cake, the taste will be better?

Perhaps the cake is really just porridge.

Does oxygen come with a meter?

Do the flowers have time clocks?

Is life, or life just is?

What we make it?

Or made for us?

All I know is we can, we do, we will, we might

Or not.

The rest is all a choice we have.

Of course making the choice is not the same as having it.

How many choose?

(for Karin, Harry P, Bette and few others)


Post a Comment

Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]

<< Home