Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Just a quick note...
I've changed usernames at YouTube. The Wraith Surfer is hanging up his board over there. Meet me at http://youtube.com/DanPostropheL (dan'l)
Friday, October 12, 2007
Looking in the Mirror: Am I cracked?
What is it with Periurban on YouTube? Here's a guy with a great voice, creative songwriting, and interesting views on -- even a passion for community. His gentle manner and compassionate tone draw you in, and you feel like this guy could be your friend if he wasn't five hours ahead of you on the clock, almost a quarter of a world away. Just when I decide here's a musician I care to keep an eye (or an ear) on, he turns suddenly against the USA, and suddenly, the songs are no longer comfortable to listen to. In fact, they're painful.
Then again, so is looking in a physical mirror. :-)
My patriotism is stung by the sand he's kicked up from the playground, and the child in me wants to come out swinging. How dare he?
Yet the disillusioned, tired citizen in me wants to scream out in the moment, "Yes! Yes! It's cruel what our country is doing in the world!" The part of me that believes the conspiracy theories and doesn't trust the likes of a Washington Politician is pierced to the heart by Peri's words, because I feel trapped. Trapped in a country that has taken down the government of a foreign country under what I believe to be false pretenses, unable to do anything to stop those who would continue to feed our sons and daughters to an enemy that considers their lives to be worth less than that of the family pet.
"It's a democratic country, though -- you can vote! Choose better leaders! Look at the funny Americans in the US that choose such horrible leaders! Hahaha...." Would that my vote were that powerful. I dread the upcoming election. There's a very real possibility that we'll see another Clinton White House, but roles will be reversed. The field of candidates is just that -- a vast field, and the possibilities are many. And is any one of them without corruption? Does any one of them speak for me? How to decide? Choose the Devil you know? The lesser of two evils? I vote so I have the right to complain, and the rest vote to give me something to complain about. Such is the nature of election. I only wish I had a choice of an honest candidate.
Fail to vote and not only do I forfeit my right to complain (In My Humble Opinion). I'd be no longer a part of the solution -- but I'd be part of the apathetic problem. Lumps-on-a-log who don't care, caught up in our own personal lives... Self absorbed.
I'm sorry -- I'm typing while tired again, and I'm having trouble keeping a thought....
The point is: Periurban gets my ire up because the things he says about the US are true -- to an extent. I'm frustrated because I can't make him a liar. When I hear his lyrics, I see myself, part of my country, responsible for the leaders I sent to Washington, responsible for thinking that the war on Iraq could be justified, and I don't care for what I see. Whether we were lied to, or the threat was an honest mistake, we attacked, and now we're losing boys and girls trying to hold it together over there. If we stay, we're evil for continuing the battle, and if we pull out, the power vacuum will be filled with civil war, and we'll be responsible for that. We're left with no out.
And I don't care for being trapped like that. What must it be like to be a soldier facing these feelings each day... My heart cries each time I lower the flag for one of our own killed in action. The flag has seen a lot of half-staff days this year. May it end.
Meanwhile, Periurban, write your songs, but don't think for a minute that every US American is behind this war. Don't think we aren't pained. Indeed, maybe your music will help us feel that pain "enough".
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oMmixsh9sYQ
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7VpYUhlKO-o
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_P_E91KabMY
Then again, so is looking in a physical mirror. :-)
My patriotism is stung by the sand he's kicked up from the playground, and the child in me wants to come out swinging. How dare he?
Yet the disillusioned, tired citizen in me wants to scream out in the moment, "Yes! Yes! It's cruel what our country is doing in the world!" The part of me that believes the conspiracy theories and doesn't trust the likes of a Washington Politician is pierced to the heart by Peri's words, because I feel trapped. Trapped in a country that has taken down the government of a foreign country under what I believe to be false pretenses, unable to do anything to stop those who would continue to feed our sons and daughters to an enemy that considers their lives to be worth less than that of the family pet.
"It's a democratic country, though -- you can vote! Choose better leaders! Look at the funny Americans in the US that choose such horrible leaders! Hahaha...." Would that my vote were that powerful. I dread the upcoming election. There's a very real possibility that we'll see another Clinton White House, but roles will be reversed. The field of candidates is just that -- a vast field, and the possibilities are many. And is any one of them without corruption? Does any one of them speak for me? How to decide? Choose the Devil you know? The lesser of two evils? I vote so I have the right to complain, and the rest vote to give me something to complain about. Such is the nature of election. I only wish I had a choice of an honest candidate.
Fail to vote and not only do I forfeit my right to complain (In My Humble Opinion). I'd be no longer a part of the solution -- but I'd be part of the apathetic problem. Lumps-on-a-log who don't care, caught up in our own personal lives... Self absorbed.
I'm sorry -- I'm typing while tired again, and I'm having trouble keeping a thought....
The point is: Periurban gets my ire up because the things he says about the US are true -- to an extent. I'm frustrated because I can't make him a liar. When I hear his lyrics, I see myself, part of my country, responsible for the leaders I sent to Washington, responsible for thinking that the war on Iraq could be justified, and I don't care for what I see. Whether we were lied to, or the threat was an honest mistake, we attacked, and now we're losing boys and girls trying to hold it together over there. If we stay, we're evil for continuing the battle, and if we pull out, the power vacuum will be filled with civil war, and we'll be responsible for that. We're left with no out.
And I don't care for being trapped like that. What must it be like to be a soldier facing these feelings each day... My heart cries each time I lower the flag for one of our own killed in action. The flag has seen a lot of half-staff days this year. May it end.
Meanwhile, Periurban, write your songs, but don't think for a minute that every US American is behind this war. Don't think we aren't pained. Indeed, maybe your music will help us feel that pain "enough".
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oMmixsh9sYQ
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7VpYUhlKO-o
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_P_E91KabMY
Friday, October 05, 2007
Sanity in Question
How does one decide whether one is sane or not?
I mean, I believe myself to be sane. But don't most insane people?
(brief interlude while switching monitors -- mine just died...)
Sorry about that delay. Technical difficulty. Back to our examination of belly buttons...
Is it true that believing you are insane is a sign that you are probably not?
Or, as I suspect, am I perfectly sane and simply believe that I may not be?
Who can tell? I mean, I don't feel qualified to judge the sanity of another. And neither do I trust another person without access to my thoughts worthy of judging me?
Which leads me to my next thought. Have you ever wanted to be another person? Feel their feelings, and think their thoughts? If we could, this whole question of sanity would be more easily satisfied -- or would it? If a sane person was able to be me, and I am insane, wouldn't they become my insanity? Or would I become their sanity.
Dobson says when you work in the garden, the dirt never gets glovey.
Don't be so sure, though that the sane would become insane. Who is to say that what we call sane today is the appropriate state of mind? The "right" state of mind?
That ice cream was good. Maybe I'll have another before bed.
I look at people around me -- in the ether -- and I can't be certain who is insane and who is sane. Who is fake and who is real. Who is really fake? I wear a persona myself when I'm here, and that persona is not me -- though the thoughts are mine. Disjoint as they are, and unclear. Fuzzy and drunken from lack of sleep... But if I go to bed earlier, what life will I miss? And when I stay up, what life can I live? Dozing throughout the day...
Ah yes -- people around me. I browse Blogger, and YouTube, and mySpace, and take in the oddities and pearls I find there. People reveling in the beauty of the online community compared to the ugliness of the real world -- and it strikes a chord. Yet it's a harmony missing a note. Why do people post? Why do they make the videos? What is the point? What happens to citizens of this e-nation when they no longer have access to their account? Are we all doomed to the fate of Greg Solomon -- apparently not dead after all? How do we know when someone really never will come back? What becomes of their e-life then? Are they sane who post on these sites?
Some post because they are creative, and have a talent to share. Some want to capitalize on that and others want to give it away. Some post because they believe they possess a nugget of truth. Others because they believe the other guy doesn't have a shred of truth. Others I can't figure out -- producing little better than a written/musical/video fart -- so crude. Some are poets. Others are philosophers. Some share the gift of multiple creativities. Ah Utopia, but where is the place in this community for the follower? For the taker? For the one who possesses no gift to share? Where is the place for the the one unable to contribute? What gift of wisdom can I offer this place?
Questions. I can ask questions. I have those. But many will misinterpret my questioning as criticism. It's not intended as such. It's pure curiosity.
Would that I had music to give you. Would that I could write poetry. Would that I could share with you the Truth -- the ultimate prize I seek... A story. A joke. A kind word.
"Thank you." If you read this far.
No, it's too late for that ice cream. Time to go to bed. Tomorrow is never a day away -- it's already here. Maybe today will shed some light on me sanity.
G'night.
Oh, one pearl of wisdom I give you:
I mean, I believe myself to be sane. But don't most insane people?
(brief interlude while switching monitors -- mine just died...)
Sorry about that delay. Technical difficulty. Back to our examination of belly buttons...
Is it true that believing you are insane is a sign that you are probably not?
Or, as I suspect, am I perfectly sane and simply believe that I may not be?
Who can tell? I mean, I don't feel qualified to judge the sanity of another. And neither do I trust another person without access to my thoughts worthy of judging me?
Which leads me to my next thought. Have you ever wanted to be another person? Feel their feelings, and think their thoughts? If we could, this whole question of sanity would be more easily satisfied -- or would it? If a sane person was able to be me, and I am insane, wouldn't they become my insanity? Or would I become their sanity.
Dobson says when you work in the garden, the dirt never gets glovey.
Don't be so sure, though that the sane would become insane. Who is to say that what we call sane today is the appropriate state of mind? The "right" state of mind?
That ice cream was good. Maybe I'll have another before bed.
I look at people around me -- in the ether -- and I can't be certain who is insane and who is sane. Who is fake and who is real. Who is really fake? I wear a persona myself when I'm here, and that persona is not me -- though the thoughts are mine. Disjoint as they are, and unclear. Fuzzy and drunken from lack of sleep... But if I go to bed earlier, what life will I miss? And when I stay up, what life can I live? Dozing throughout the day...
Ah yes -- people around me. I browse Blogger, and YouTube, and mySpace, and take in the oddities and pearls I find there. People reveling in the beauty of the online community compared to the ugliness of the real world -- and it strikes a chord. Yet it's a harmony missing a note. Why do people post? Why do they make the videos? What is the point? What happens to citizens of this e-nation when they no longer have access to their account? Are we all doomed to the fate of Greg Solomon -- apparently not dead after all? How do we know when someone really never will come back? What becomes of their e-life then? Are they sane who post on these sites?
Some post because they are creative, and have a talent to share. Some want to capitalize on that and others want to give it away. Some post because they believe they possess a nugget of truth. Others because they believe the other guy doesn't have a shred of truth. Others I can't figure out -- producing little better than a written/musical/video fart -- so crude. Some are poets. Others are philosophers. Some share the gift of multiple creativities. Ah Utopia, but where is the place in this community for the follower? For the taker? For the one who possesses no gift to share? Where is the place for the the one unable to contribute? What gift of wisdom can I offer this place?
Questions. I can ask questions. I have those. But many will misinterpret my questioning as criticism. It's not intended as such. It's pure curiosity.
Would that I had music to give you. Would that I could write poetry. Would that I could share with you the Truth -- the ultimate prize I seek... A story. A joke. A kind word.
"Thank you." If you read this far.
No, it's too late for that ice cream. Time to go to bed. Tomorrow is never a day away -- it's already here. Maybe today will shed some light on me sanity.
G'night.
Oh, one pearl of wisdom I give you:
The only stupid question is the one left unasked.
Where'd I leave my jammies?
Where'd I leave my jammies?
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