this is an awesome docudrama (mockudrama?) with daniel dennett, where his brain gets removed. just had to share! it’s about 28 minutes long (in three parts), so be sure to watch them all if you watch any.
note: please note that the youtube video (above) is a compilation of excerpts. if you find yourself wanting to watch it in its entirety, follow this link instead:
http://bit.ly/tVBXOb
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word: marmalade
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dripping bitter-sweet, the sinewy feel on the roof of my mouth begs to be abated. with a flavor so appealing, why do i dislike it so? it’s that damned texture! lovely gelatin consistency soiled with the inconsistent mini-masses of rind, like something that you really, really want to eat, but that’s been dropped on a particularly messy part of the floor, only to be “5-second rule” saved and then greedily placed in the mouth, only to be a bitter-sweet disappointment. it’s ruined, but the worst part is that it’s been ruined by design in the name of “gourmet” or some such silliness.
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word: telekinesis
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would i could perform telekinesis. what would i do with such a skill/gift/super-power? would i use it for good or for evil? would i be inclined to become greedy and use it to gather all desires around me or would i use it to cure all the issues of world hunger and go all robin hood with the ultra-rich’s coinage? let’s just say both, just to play it safe and also to acknowledge that i am not an altruistic person. greed would certainly become an issue, how could it not.
on the other hand, i might just will that my stomach, spleen, liver, lungs, and heart all be transported to some beautiful, far off place that i would love to love but will never see. then i could, in my dying breath, say that my heart lives not in me, but in __________.
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word: vapid
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standing on a stage, looking out into the crowd, believing that i am funny, interesting, always on, and worthy of standing out. nothing could be further than the truth. fortunately, i am blissfully unaware of this fact and i continue to go about my routine, thinking that i’ve engaged and amused. that i’ve informed and enlightened. never mind the tomatoes and other stuffs that are piling up around me making the stage a putrid mess. in many civilizations, those things are commodity, so how could i ask for grander praise? it’s an honor to be honored and i know that my audience’s groans and moans and “heckles” are just adding to the performance and that could only get the most rave of reviews. we all understand how misunderstood the true visionary is. if vapidity exists, it won’t be found here!
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word: onomatopoeia
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i wish my name was onomatopoeic, that it was a perfect, or close-enough, impersonation of who i am. if only my name aurally encapsulated who i was… every time i was introduced, or i introduced myself, or a got a new friend on facebook or whatever, there would be no confusion as to my demeanor or intention or outlook. people would not be disappointed. it would also serve to reduce expectations of me. i would be what was envisioned when pronouncing my name. man, how much easier would life be then?
from a different angle though, i wonder what that sound would be… would it be unpleasant to the ear? would people run away screaming or would they possibly swoon with the whisper of it? that would be worth knowing - worth paying an unreasonable price for - if not worth publishing to the world. just sayin’, extra info never hurts.
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word: bjorn nitmo
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good ol’ bjorn… mr. nittmo to his closest of friends was, by all accounts, a person. nothing more than that. he had the dreams though, and that’s something that i am envious of and suppose is lacking in most people, so kudos to him on that front. we should all take a queue from him there.
bjorn is a lefty, just like me. this makes me happy as a clam can be. be there nothing else for me to see, let me be with the knowledge that he, was a lefty just like me.
bjorn should be born in a fjord or similar, it only seems appropriate from this writer’s perspective and limited knowledge of names and origins of words and the like, they both have a silent “j” and that’s good enough for me. if only i have more info, or a better memory on the matter, that would probably help with this perplexing situation. alas, i don’t even remember his context to my, and my friends’ lives from so long ago. sadness reigns.
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word: delicate
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delicate. delicate, like a flower? like a flower’s petals, being soft and fragrant and moist. how should one treat them? should they be handled roughly, handling them with firmness of intent. manipulating them to the will of the hand and the fingers. or should they be gently caressed with only the whisper of touching so that they would tickle, had they that sensation? or maybe just watch and admire, gently letting the flower do what it will… open and close as seems fit for the moment and atmosphere. beautifully blooming.
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word: napolean
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ahhh napolean, the lesser known of the all of the available napoleons, but not by any measure unimportant. sure, the competition is tough, what with having to go up against the omnipresent napoleon bonaparte - that notorious and short frenchy. there’s also the desert that bares the name. yummy and unforgettable, and who can forget, even through therapeutic hypnosis, the incredibly successful movie napoleon dynamite. yep, lots of stiff competition, but nope, those aren’t the napolean that we want to focus on here.
napolean, with that strangely out-of-place “a” is known and beloved for its ability to warm our hearts, heads, fingers, and toes. it has the auspicious claim of being a classic wood burning stove manufacturing company, at least according to the google. yay for that clarity and claim to fame as, if not for wood burning stoves, we would likely be a much colder species.
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word: extricate
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there are, without a doubt, many situations in which one would wish to happily - even emphatically - use the term “extricate” but I don’t think that most of these situations would be ones that the experiencer would be excited to get into in the first place. one example that i can think of, off the top of my head, would be a situation where one would desire that a boot be extricated from one’s ass. in fact, any foreign object from one’s ass would probably be a cause of rejoice in the used of the word and its accompanying action.
other scenarios might also be, a p.o.w. situation, an international financial fraud scenarios where you were to extradited - or extricated. how about the good old fashioned, “extricate that shard of glass form my chest please” evening event? i bet that one would be cherished indeed.
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word: zazzy
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i’m out of my depth. i’m wanting to feel a feeling that i can’t explain. i wat to feel zazzy-ish, how about you? zazzy-ish! yeah, that’s right, the kind of feeling that can’t quite be contained and that can’t really be isolated into a single element of joy or love or comfort or lust or whatever. it’s a feeling that is an amalgam of all of them. bring it on and let it consume. i want it to make my chest uncertain and cause my hips to have rhythm. i want it to be overwhelming and inspiring. i also want it to be driving and focusing. i want it to do the work for me, through my vessel-body, making the work an experience and a joy. making it almost annoying with its chirping cheerfulness. is that possible? i sincerely doubt it, but it really would be nice as hell.
Here we go. Day one, oh, and day two also, technically speaking, of the September 2011 “Write Fifteen Minutes A Day” (WFMAD) challenge. I’m not focused and, as such, will probably just type the thoughts as they come, nothing specific.
So, while writing the above, I used a word (focused) that got me to think of something…
Today I red an article in a magazine (Tricycle - Fall 2011 issue) titled “Focusing.” It was about a type of hybrid meditationmindfulness exercise that was very interesting to me because I have been noticing and talking about how unable I am to focus on things that matter. I can focus on things that don’t matter; job related things, or extremely negative things, but not the things that are important. More pointedly, not on anything critically about myself. I believe it to be a defense mechanism, but one that needs to be broken down and deconstructed. I need to be able to better identify with who I really am in order to make any real and lasting changes to myself. Improvement is a goal that I have and I can’t get there if I am unable to see (and investigate) who I am in a meaningful and realistic way rather than through the rosy goggles that my self-preservation mechanics have constructed for me. Anyway, this focus exercise was really compelling to me. It seemed to hit on something that I could really use and that I have been having trouble with.
Meditation distances you, calms you, allows you to step back from things. This is, of course, great for someone that has a tendency to be very reactionary like me. Then there’s mindfulness. Mindfulness is supposed to be able to help you to see things in a more accepting light and to, because of the acknowledgment of the thing and subsequent acceptance of it, be able to handle it more calmly or humanely or levelly. Another way to look at it is that you are supposed to be able to see anger, or rage, or whatever, as it approaches. Then you can acknowledge it, understand it, embrace it, and then let it go without losing a more holistic perspective of its place in the grand scheme of things without it engulfing you and/or the situation that cause it arrival. Without, for example, flying off the handle because the milk was spilled. This is, again, fantastic. Love it. Well, this article I read talks about there being a gap between those two things. This gap is the lack of focus on how your I (mind) and me (body) see and interpret the things that arise in your life.
So, after reading the article and its accompanying six-step guideline - which is defined as being only, a sort of framework that can be adjusted and modified to suit the individual - I decided to give it a try.
Firstly one must get in the right state of mind and/or body, so I just began with some basic breathing meditation. Once I had done that for a bit and felt good about where I was, I decided to try to get into the focus. This is described as drawing all attention - both I (mind) and me (body) - to one’s torso and letting attention settle there, waiting for a sense to start to show its self (materialize?). This sense was described in the article as being a number of things from a shape to a color to a texture or similar. It would be residing somewhere within your torso. It could be in the stomach or the heart or anywhere really. There may be more than one sense as well, but I’d suggest that there is probably one that stands out more than others and that maybe that should be the one that gets attended to.
Once you find the sense, you are supposed to calmly and acceptingly sit with it. Just be with it. No emotions or judgements or labels or anything. Do not “go inside” it, keep some distance. Just sit with it. The idea here, I believe, is that the sense is somewhat skittish. That it is something that your I and me don’t know how to deal with or to handle so it will be tucked away as a means of management. Sitting with it allows it (the sense) to get comfortable with a non-threatening approach (think of a scared kitten) and also for your I and me to get comfortable with it being exposed.
Once you have sat with the sense for a few moments, the next step is to try to identify the quality of the sense. This is, in essence, labeling the sense. Let a word or a picture or similar that correctly identifies the quality of the sense come to you. Once one comes, examine it - the word or picture or whatever - to see if it is really a true fit. If you don’t feel an internal shift, or melding, of the sense and its quality, let the quality (word) go and keep searching. Keep going until you feel a synchronous match. Until you find just the right quality.
Once you find a match of sense and quality, let them “resonate” with each other. to see how they mesh. To do this, focus your attention on one, then the other, let them interact. Do they shift and/or move subtly with each and around other? Do they modify each other? I equate this to harmonics. If you have two notes that are the same, they will wobble and wind around each other. If this sort of interplay is happening then all is going well. Let that continue for a bit until they feel like a perfect match. Let the two interplay and mold and led until they are “just right” with each other.
Once there, it’s time to start investigating this sense and its accompanying quality (combined, they are called the “felt sense”). As yourself what is it about this felt sense that makes it so. What is in it? While asking these types of questions, let the quality (word, picture, whatever it was that came to you) come back into focus. Don’t remember it, re-see it anew. Let it come again so that it can be seen clearly with the question. If an answer comes (either quickly or slowly), investigate it. Did the answer make the felt sense shift? If not, let that answer go by and keep asking. Keep delving. Keep focusing. Focus on the felt sense again. Ask the question again. Keep doing this until you get an answer that affects the felt sense. There should be a shift, or a release or something that accompanies the answer.
Finally, when you get the response/answer that has affected the felt sense, accept it. Receive it with open arms. Let it come out into the openness with a friendliness and acceptance of it. Don’t judge it or be ashamed of it or, for that matter, encouraged by it or proud of it. Just be friendly and accepting of it. Once there, sit with it for a while. Let it the felt sense shift - even if only slightly - and accept it and get comfortable with it. Sit with it for a while.
Ok, so that focus exercise was , for me, really really really difficult. In fact, I don’t think I succeeded on this first attempt, but I’m okay with that because I (think) I understand that this will be a particularly difficult achievement for me. In fact, I believe that the difficulty of this exercise is proof of just how valuable it is for me. The idea here is that, once achieved, this felt sense has been identified. It has been made into something acknowledged (and accepted) and can now be addressed openly and consciously.
i had some apples
too many to eat in fact
they sure rotted fast
wow. what an amazing performance. ghostland observatory’s show really was crazy cool. i mean, i guess i’m kinda lying when i say that it was an “amazing performance” because i didn’t actually see any part of the band. but the light show… wow! the light show was really entrancing.
i think part of what made it so cool was the fact that it was outside and they were still able to have the lazer lights be so prominent and overwhelming. smoke machine pumping away to assist with the light. smoke machine do your magic, never mind that you don’t have the luxory of having four walls and a ceiling to help in the capturing of the smoke. pump it out in droves and let the light play off and through you in such a cool, almost choreographed, interplay of prettiness. again, wow.
i tooks some video of it all, check it below. the video is from my phone, so i’m sorry if the quality isn’t up to proper standards (but stuff it too, cuz i think the video is pretty awesome for a freaking phone! best viewed if you choose the HD option and watch in full screen mode).
here are two songs that i captured. i don’t know this band at all though, so don’t go asking what the titles of these are. if anyone can identify them, please do in the comments section and i’ll update with the info…
EDIT: muchas gracias to the kind stranger - named “guest” - that provided me with the name of the first of these to songs!
ghostland observatory - midnight voyage - live (08/18/2011) in pioneer park at the 2011 twilight concert series in sl,ut
song 2 - ghostland observatory live (08/18/2011) in pioneer park at the 2011 twilight concert series in sl,ut
laziness makes things
seem we live lives made for fun
but we forget truth
* this was a response to a friend’s haiku response to my previous haiku. :) — wish said friend would have contributed it in the comments, for other people to read and/or contribute to, but beggars shouldn’t be choosers. :)
I look to the right,
the shadows are frightening.
I look to the left…
farewell not-my bat.
you could have been much better
but, time made you worse
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alternatively
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farewell not my bat.
you were hardly known or shown
but once had a chance
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or
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goodbye to the bat
it flew alone on your back
rain will improve it
i hope to live happy
do you? i ask in whisper
no one answers me
brown moth thrashes by
is it happier than the dog
that sits disinterested
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who has the envy
as one who lingers in dark?
it might not be me
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pink ball on treetop,
shadow covers half of you.
does that lessen you?
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stripes on her tight shirt
emblazon and highlight her
ribs and clavicle
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water river eats
cookies it cannot swallow
likes the flavor though
trees remind me of
yoga bound bodies full taut
freeing nagging knots
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Wanna join in? my comments section is super anxious for contributors!!! :)
i’ve gotten old and cold and boring and sad,
nothing lights my fire.
i’ll dance, i’ll sing, do any old thing,
but nothing will be seen. it seems
my marks are long, my visions gone.
i’m tired of every old thing.
will there come a time when i see the sign
for what it really reads?
or will life continue to pretend?
getting older is somehow everything,
that i imagined and nothing that i expected.
i used to have such vivid dreams,
there’s nothing now for me to see.
through children’s eyes i now see me,
and it ain’t a pretty thing.
wish it were, hell yeah i do,
but there’s little hope for that.
cuz people, turns out, are unable to change,
i guess i’m living proof of that.
(my hips, they lie
cuz in reality - eh - i’m shy shy shy)*
someday i hope
to feel the sway of music in my bones
but for now it only feels like pain
and remembrance of being alone
* thanks to that talented artist - whose name i can’t remember - for the very lovely lyric i stole :)
just so’s we’re clear here, this post isn’t nearly as morbid as its title suggests. fair warning, this is *not* my obituary — as such — it is just titled that because it’s more or less relevant to the subject. nothing more. :)
so, i was browsing them-thar internets when i stumbled open a blog, by dualori that [a] i thought was kinda awesome and [b] reminded me of an “obituary” of sorts that was written for me years and years ago. don’t you fret, i didn’t write it myself. no worries there. but, if memory serves, it was submitted — and published — in the now defunct “poetry corner” that was found on the back cover of our local [salt lake] city weekly. they accepted unsolicited submissions and tried to choose those that, to their taste, seemed the least bad from the local “writing” population. very nice of them wouldn’t you say?
anyway, back this fake obit of mine. or, back to the subject at least. i’ve now admitted to having one. never mind the embarrassment of this admission, and i assure you there is plenty of it! is this strange or is it more common than i believe? for the record, i don’t aspire to strangeness. i’m not interested in having that particular feather in my cap. i do, however, want to know if there is strangeness stuck to me like velcro. so tell me true, but be sure that the “true” answer is that this is a very common thing and that you all have a future — or fake — obituary about yourselves tucked away somewhere private and discreet. can you do that please? pretty please? lie to me.
i wonder if i could track mine down? i’d like to. i think i’ll try. if i do track it down, don’t think i’m not gonna update this blog post with a word-for-word reproduction, with my most sincere apologies to the city weekly and to the original author for not asking beforehand! :)
UPDATE: i wasn’t able to track down my copy of the obit, but i was able to get the author to get it to me, from her memory. remind me to not hate those that have much better memories than i do! i would never, in a gazillion years, be able to quote something — anything — let alone something that i, myself, wrote. props to her! Oh, and she gave me kind permission to reproduce. i remember it being slightly longer, but that’s probably just my terrible memory in action. here it is:
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Could I but re-write time and space
and linger
in happy limbo with the newly dead
old friend, it would be done.
No longer to wonder.
How and Why.
You leave me earthbound
Just forever, just for now.
