ok, here goes...

the time has not been here for babbling, so i’ve neglected the joy and revelations (and nonsense) of playing behind the candoor and all the other writing places i have created on the web and even here i’ve drifted so far from a daily dose of RealTime™ that there is a definitely detachment in the air, but for better or worse i shall reach into the files and upload the words (rather more randomly than usual, even) stored over the last few months and so, we should call this:

THE RANDOM ENTRIES

or some such random name i gave no thought or planning to blurbed out lost in the midst of babbling where it may go unnoticed for years or ever, for that matter…

wow (glancing backward)… the last entry (though it might not be the last entry if i ever upload all the half baked and almost baked babbles scribbled in the files)… was seriously self-pathetic, aye?... such an outpouring of serious sadness almost always amuses me so much… that’s why i created those other places which i won’t link this time cuz you’ve got to care enough to actually go looking every now and then (but only every now and then, aye?... let me tell you, being an attention whore is a lot of hard work)…

of course i am proving that i am not really an attention whore, but only play one on the internet, cuz i’ve been gone so long after all, you just have to go with it like stewie on family guy, you know, the way he just suggests things as if he is concerned but keeps raising his voice as if to be asking a question but is actually dripping with sarcasm as he mocks poor brian, who has so got to be snoopy’s father, but that’s another story…

i just will not give up the wonder and excitement of living even as i hang on to the wonder and excitement of dreaming… living the fun, dreaming the love… and in my way, living the love as i’ve finally figured out how to love everybody on a human level... it’s really so superficial and selfish, everybody taking advantage of each other cuz they’re too insecure to be real and so practiced at looking the other way, kind of like hank, who is so not a fool on the hill, but definitely represents the sad reality of the good old american ego and heartland, bush people would understand (and i don’t mean australian)…

stopping is just a decision, you know… i mean, it doesn’t matter what you are stopping… take seth mcfarland, for instance… you can stop watching those aliens anytime, anytime, i say… even as they eat your brains, you can stop just by deciding to stop and then, maybe some of your brain will grow back… you never know…

i stopped believing in family, after all… wow, was that a segue from utter irreverence to deadly seriousness or what?... probably more what, but still, a powerful potential there, one must say… ellen degeneres is so sweet… i mean funny sweet and more than anything else, brilliant sweet… either she memorizes lines amazingly and has seriously clever writers or she has a zoomingly free-associatingly genius living in her head and maybe some of both with a genuine delivery and classic comic timing… i think seth would say so too, in fact, they could be best friends if they gave each other half a chance…

yeah, but there is only one homer… and while there is an ugly betty rumor that the simpsons are a clever rip-off of the flintstones with the kids replacing the rubbles, just a little, but then, the honeymooners were the first, after all, hellooooo ball… and laurel and hardy started the whole buddy movie thing, ya know… but seriously, how could anyone stop believing in family?...

but like all decisions, the decision to reverse the decision is simply just another decision (who saw that coming?)… hey, it’s my birthday, or at least the anniversary of my birth date, the day i fell out of some womb out there in the wilds of new jersey, or somewhere ridiculously funny if delivered just right by the right person on television because everything is more funny with the right emphasis on television…

but life isn’t all that bad, while not everybody lives to a hundred and fifteen, that’s what dreams are made of, cha right, imagining what life might be like a hundred years from now (if you’re fifteen, you could be, you know, it’s possible, though i wouldn’t do ya, no, not unless they changed the laws, cuz love conquers almost all, sure, and iron bars is one of those things it doesn’t, conquer, that is, but you can get naked and be part of my wet dreams anyway, i mean, if you insist cuz you are a pervert, starting early, imagine and all) and characters in a robert heinlein cohesive social novel of depth and understanding beyond current human comprehension (what?... no fear of sex, nudity, or free love?... who does he think he is, a hippie or something?)… well, it could be much worse, we could be sitting around on a tree branch asking each other what we want to do, after all…

ever sit in traffic and drift into the cartoon like illusion all around you as every car comes alive with a personality and amuse each other while sitting and waiting for traffic to move along… slowly the shapes move into who the cars really are… some are less social and some are downright anti-social (it’s been said that cars take on the personality of their drivers, so it may not be that there are bad cars, only bad drivers, but then, some cars are just built bad, perhaps, or so goes the other theory)… some are very competitive… some just wanna have fun… a whole social network crawling along the road trying to make the most of the crowded parade route we call traffic…

there are striking similarities between osama bin laden and george bush, no really, just think about this… both grew up in very privileged, wealthy circumstances… both had strained relationships with their fathers… as young adults, both men were seen as disappointments… both fell under the spell immersed themselves in the shallow depths of radical religion… osama was swept up in islamic sunni fundamentalism, wahhabism, yeah, you know, it argues that the koran (qur'an) is literally true, that life should be lived by puritanical rules, and that women are second-class citizens… imagine that, what a backward way of thinking, aye?... meanwhile, in his late thirties, george w converted to fundamentalist christianity… that’s right, he was "born again" (can anybody see a burning bush suddenly extinguished exposing thorns and then sprouting fig leaves or something, or is that just me?) and saw the light, or something like that… remember how ridiculously absurd osama’s regligion was?... well, bush's version of christianity teaches that the bible is literally true, that life should be lived by puritanical rules, and that women are second-class citizens... what?... you read it, both have an ultra-conservative belief system that tells them that the world is inhabited by two kinds of people: believers and infidels… that’s right, like so many others in this world, paradoxically, both men believe in a god of love who directs them to kill non-believers…. yup, you’ve gotta be a hater to follow the one true god of love…

it’s all about the decision, man, you know, man, like man…

and if there was only the nurturing of the musical voice and the love so deserved by the bottom line child and the precious partnership of disciplined caring with reckless abandon that forms the collaborative creativity that pure genius needs to survive in this world, life would have been even more amazing than it is… amazing as that may seem to those who know how amazing life is… a decision, you know…

it’s beautiful really and truly, this life… even though, while writing, i can find the deep longing for the magical companionship that, well, only fairy tales can make real, a partnership of intimacy, wonder, and magic all based completely open honesty conscious awareness and the insatiable desire to share everything always forever and ever beyond the eternal infinity… ah, the energy of the eternal infinity, remember?...

awwww, so beautifully sad being a hopelessly hopeful romantic, but the best thing about it is that to survive forever in this state of mind, the bouncing baby forever young child inside who enjoys the fun in everything by remaining open to the anything’s possible passion for living life every moment, so even the sadness is a pleasure… better to love and lose than never to love, better to feel it all, including the pain and hunger and emptiness, than to never feel at all… that’s the truth behind the smile…

so this is what we’ve been missing, the manic high of sleep writing (oh pishaw, we’re not even part of the way there yet, but the direction, we’re pointing in the right direction, right?)… the wonder of babbling beyond consciousness as sleep slides around the brain like a cool fog or a warm blanket or some such oozing ethereal stuff while the fingers continue to type words that come from somewhere outside of the consciousness, beneath, above, out there, in there, somewhere…

there’s a place for us, after all :)