Sleep now in the FirePRAG•MAT•IC- treating historical phenomena with special reference to their causes, antecedent conditions, and results
Deepblue737
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Name: Jay
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Member Since: 12/23/2004

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Tuesday, December 09, 2008




Lucy's Paramour


Sunday, December 07, 2008

my selves protect myself

the air was cold, each time I exhaled I added a cloud of breath to the fog that surrounded me; the ground crunched beneath my feet as I walked.
there were miles and miles of pine trees. loblolly southern yellow pine with equal space between them
I walked for what seemed like hours through this hypostyle hall of monoculture
it seemed to go on forever in every direction; every tree the same age.

then a clearing. not a meadow, this was not natural. someone created this.
the absence of pines formed a perfect circle, maybe fifty yards in diameter
twelve black megaliths stood watch at the center in a smaller circle;
I could not see what they were guarding

as I drew closer, approaching from the west, I noticed the bare, sculptural branches of the birch trees as they rose from inside this inner ring
they seemed oddly out of place. but in the diffused light of this overcast winter afternoon their paper white bark stood out in stark contrast to the dark forest of pines beyond, and it made it easy for me to marvel at their delicate beauty.

the sound had been with me for so long that i had almost forgotten about it completely. suddenly I became aware of it again as i crossed the open expanse between the forest and the ring of black standing stones. It was growing louder as I approached.
I was not far into the forest on this journey when I first noticed it, only a low hiss then, it was quickly becoming a roar and I was starting to feel the lower, inaudible tones in my chest.

they stood at about twice my height, and were close enough together that I was only able to catch glimpses of the secrets inside the circle as i made my way cautiously around the ring of massive guardians.
I moved closer as I circled and when I was close enough I began to examine the facets of one of the stones. the rectangular block peered back at me through onyx eyes. a shudder rippled through me when i recognized the familiar features of the stone face, it was my own.

i stared into my face cast in stone, its eyes did not meet my gaze, instead it seemed to look right though me with an smug look of indifference. over the initial shock, I moved on. each face held a different expression. one grinned with enthusiasm, another frowned in disapproval, and though they did not move, they all seemed oddly real and too alive to be sculptures of stone, but they all seemed to ignore my presence, and for that I was thankful. then I noticed there was an opening between two of the megaliths that was larger than the others, it seemed just wide enough for me to squeeze through.

once I was inside the sound was almost deafening. It rumbled and surged and then I recognized what the sound reminded me of, a waterfall. in fact, i could smell the water, but there was nothing around that even remotely resembled a waterfall of any kind. aside from the few birch trees and the dark fragmented flagstones that covered the ground there was only one large object that dominated the space. it was some sort of huge metal sculpture that resembled an oddly shaped egg. The dark metal reminded me of tarnished bronze only somehow darker. I walked closer and realized that the sound was emanating from inside of this object. it was almost as tall as the guardian stones which stood around it and I was suddenly overtaken by a strong desire to see this object from above.

I quickly ran over to the nearest birch tree and hoisted myself up onto the lowest branch. I climbed and clawed my way up the ivory trunk until I thought I was high enough and then turned and looked. I fought to keep my grip as I reeled from the shock of what I saw. another face. there was something different about this face though, this face was much more three dimensional than those of the guardians that greeted me when I arrived; this face was much more real. and once again, the face was mine.

the brow of his face was furrowed, his eyes were closed tight, nose wrinkled and the corners of his mouth turned down as he grimaced in pain. after the shock drained out of me I was overwhelmed my an immense sense of pity. the face was so real that I felt a strong urge to console him. I was confused by this strange place. and then as I looked down on my hard, metal, and all too real face at first disappointment and then anger washed over me. the question surfaced in my mind, and then I spoke it.

“Why wont you be happy? Isn’t it enough?”

I held on to the tree and continued to stare into my own bitter face for a few more seconds almost as if I expected a response, though I was not prepared for what happened next. I blinked twice in an attempt to wash my eyes. surely I was hallucinating. I could have sworn that I saw...movement.

I froze, terrified as first the nose and then the mouth began to wince. the look on the face of my huge metal doppelgänger became even more embittered as the nostrils flared and then it seemed to inhale deeply. all of the heat left my body and I shivered as I felt the roaring sound intensify. then to both my horror and my disbelief the mouth opened wide and I could see the source of the sound for an instant. I saw an avalanche of water falling from a source concealed behind the monstrous teeth and falling deep into the throat. the thunderous sound of the water rippled over me and roared through the forest like a scream. the eyes were just barely open but they were blazing with agony. I felt my feet beginning to move; an involuntary act of self preservation. the sound was still growing stronger, and louder. a billow of steam erupted from deep within the throat and it quickly rose in an ominous column toward the sky.

I landed on the ground and rolled. I had jumped from the tree and sprung off the top of one of the guardian stones. the earth began to trembled and then shook violently as I rose to my feet once again and I started to run. I looked back only once when I reached the edge of the clearing, though I wish I hadn’t. through one of the gaps between the megaliths I could see hot molten rock spewing out of the mouth in the center of the circle. and somehow, a fire had ignited the frozen grass in the clearing and was spreading fast. my pulse pounded in my ears as I raced through the forest, each tree a clone of the next. the earth was still shaking as I ran but the sound was starting to sound further away. I did not stop until I made it back to the jeep. the engine screamed to life and the tires tore into the damp earth. I pressed the accelerator to the floor and sprayed a trail of mud and frozen chunks of earth behind me, haunted by the images of what had just happened.






Friday, September 21, 2007

Quite possibly the best song ever written by dinosaurs for dinosaurs.


Friday, May 18, 2007

The following is a post by John Mayer on his website.
************************************************************
"

FREEDOM OF SPEECH VS. BLACKJACK MYTH OR IN DEFENSE OF O&A

From the book "Blackjack Bluebook II" by Fred Renzey:


"Most serious blackjack players object to the order of the cards being changed only when things are going well. And if they're losing, then they in fact want to change the cards around so as to break the dealer's "hot streak". This suggests that if you're winning, then the following cards in the shoe are stacked in your favor, and shouldn't be tampered with. But in reality, all it means is that the previous cards in the shoe were stacked in your favor.


An enlightening study on just this kind of "streakiness" was reported on in Stanford Wong's highly recommended book, Professional Blackjack. In that experiment, 20 million computer hands were run, recording the win/lose results for the player immediately following two consecutive wins, two consecutive losses and every possible two hand combination of wins, losses and ties. The results?


VIRTUALLY NO DIFFERENCE BETWEEN ANY OF THEM!


The player was no more likely to win his next hand just after having won two in a row, than immediately after losing two in a row. So then, what is there to be preserved in the order of the cards? In that regard, every next hand is a brand new ball game."

____


John here.


In the case of Opie and Anthony, and yes, even Don Imus, they were hired and respected for their ability to stare the dealer in the eye and hit on their 16 against an ace. When they drew a five, they were revered for their gambling acumen. But when they busted, as anyone in the ongoing gamble of speaking freely (now semantically different than "free speech") does from time to time, they were asked to hand in their player's cards and escorted to their vehicles.


I believe that free speech protects not what has already been spoken, but what has yet to be said. Sure, once a sentence is constructed, the words can be determined to be either winning or losing, as are the cards in the discard pile. Except instead of obeying a static rule, society is left to sift through the played cards and argue what should beat the dealer, when we should have hit and stood, and just what the hell we were doing that night in Vegas in the first place.


It seems to me that in this gamble, we should change either the odds or the payout.


Please feel free to leave your comments in the link not offered below.



POSTED BY JOHN MAYER AT 10:35 PM FROM NEW YORK, NY
"
*************************************************************
Dang that kid is smart.
Upon reflection this is what I think:

Adlai Stevenson once said newspapers separate the wheat from the chaff...and then print the chaff.

Doesn't it seem like all this stuff probably started because in the absence of "real news" our media networks default back to celebrity melodrama? Not that there isnt real news out there, (haven't seen too much coverage of what's going on in Darfur on the networks) our news media just seems to think we are really interested in this stuff.

Like most of America I had no idea who Imus was before all this started, and even though I have XM I've only listened to about 5 minutes of Opie and Anthony, and I had forgotten who they were too.

The way I see it, the lazy journalists (if you want to call them that) that work for the cable news networks were just looking for an easy story. Some obscure "national syndicated" shock jock makes a woefully uncool bomb of a joke about the Rutgers women's basketball team, Al Sharpton gets involved and all of a sudden we've got a media frenzy. Imus gets fired, followed by a few other uberconservatives that I've never heard of. Then Opie and Anthony get suspended. I guess it's just the p.r. market correction: sacrifice a few token liberals to the gods of celebrity consumption to balance out the slaying of the conservatives. Meanwhile there are people with real problems out there that aren't "newsworthy".

Freedom of speech protects you from the government; it doesn't guarantee your job security in the private sector.

Do I feel sorry for any of these guys? ....No way. They've bankrolled some serious dough doing what they do. Heck, getting fired will probably turn out to be a great career move. Book deals, interviews, speaking engagements, nah, these guy's will be just fine.

Frankly, I'm surprised we are still talking about this stuff.

What is disturbing to me about all this is the size of the audiences out there that keep these guys on the air and in business.


Thursday, May 10, 2007

Best review of Spiderman 3 you will read…

 

http://www.xanga.com/Hoss5150/589196111/just-your-friendly-neighborhood-spider-hoss.html?nextdate=last



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