These Lights Are Meaningful

I don't know how to get rid of that HUGE space above the player, so please bear with it. If you are reading this entry through a "reader," make sure you visit the actual blog so you can listen to the songs!

Synchronicity allowed for a poignant and emotional afternoon with ADEM the other day, drawing together Cyprus, Nick, and I into a kind, poetic, reunion of sorts. Nearly every song Adem sang carried with it a bittersweet burn of relevance as can be seen in the lyrics, below. He is very impressive, Live. A mournful, sweet, melancholic, but inspiring tone that carries his story-songs right into your heart. For my metaphysical pals, I think you will really love THESE LIGHTS ARE MEANINGFUL, and to my friends who've known my recent struggles and efforts to rebuild, I think you will hear the story in EVERYTHING YOU NEED.

Siggh... I am so grateful for so many things, even in the wake of so much struggle... it's all a matter of perspective. I know I lose perspective, sometimes, but a very strong part of me counts on the memory of when I have perspective, and songs like these, artists, and friends, all help to keep that web of memory and strength in place, even when I feel so lost and silly-scared.

It's good to remember that you will see things differently, if you just hang in there...

ADEM @ SoundFix Records in Williamsburg, Brooklyn

NICK, Me, T.Lee (from-out-of-town guest), and CYPRUS

LYRICS

EVERYTHING YOU NEED

Home is where your heart comes from
But what do you do when your heart's gone
With everything you need

It's sad
that point, you've got to choose
to stay or go, you're bound to lose
everything you need

Laa daa day laa daa day
laa daa day laa daa day

You got your stuff you packed your bags
You checked your things made sure you had
Everything you need

You upped, you left, you went away
To love to fight another day
'gainst everything you need

Laa daa day laa daa day
laa daa day laa daa day

You severed your ties
Left us all behind
You said all your goodbyes
To everything you need
You severed your ties
Re-forge them
make it right
Come back with open eyes
To everything you need

'cause moments they can turn to dreams
And hopes and wants can sometimes seem
Like everything you need
But treated bad then left alone
You cried, we said to come back home
To everything you need

Laa daa day laa daa day
laa daa day laa daa day

You severed your ties
You left us all behind
You said all your goodbyes
To everything you need
You severed your ties
Re-forge them
make it right
Come back with open eyes
To everything you need

LOVE, And OTHER PLANETS

Come with me
There's something you should see
In the evening sky
Put on your warmest coat
We'’ll be breathing ghosts
And they don't want us to see
So they join the clouds
Which clot above our heads

But on a clear night,
If you look close enough
You can just make out Love
And other planets
We are not alone

And normally
It's bright enough to see
With a naked eye
I held you close to me
And I felt you smile
And you whispered in my ear
I know it's there
Let'’s make our own light

But on a clear night
If you look close enough
You can just make out
Love and other planets
We are not alone
And on this clear night
If I hold you close enough
I can feel love.

THESE ARE YOUR FRIENDS

I wish that I'd arrived a little sooner -
You really should have called
we'd have come here right away
You tried to help yourself but you got it wrong

You've thrown yourself
Into the flames 'cause you're covered in cold
But these are your friends
They give out a nice warm glow

You've tried so hard to see for yourself
Your perspective is wrong
These are your friends
Let them come guide you on

Listen now - now's the time to listen
There're lessons to be learned
I've seen this before in my own life
You feel covered up, removed from the world around you
With all your senses dulled you'd do anything to feel
You tried to help yourself, but you got it wrong

You've thrown yourself
Into the flames 'cause you're covered in cold
But these are your friends
They give out a nice warm glow

What have you done? You're cutting your cord
You're floating in space
But these are your friends
They'll be your star-map home

Everybody needs some help sometimes

THESE LIGHTS ARE MEANINGFUL

I know that I've
Not been the same
Since the day we walked around and marvelled at the firmament

Both wrapped up
In a blanket that was handed down
And it struck me like a meteor

It's hard to explain, so hard to explain how I'm so sure

These lights are meaningful
We'’ve got to understand
And work out what they say
These lights are meaningful
They'’ll tell what we forgot
We have a mission here
These lights are meaningful
We must translate them now
Else we'll just float around

We have a reason here
Something beyond ourselves
These lights are meaningful

I needed purpose,
I was given one:
To find the reasons for life
Etched between the distant suns and...
The Zodiac gives clues to the wealth of all that once we knew
Join silver dots set against the midnight blue

It'’s hard to explain; so hard to explain how I'm so sure

These lights are meaningful
We have forgot ourselves
We drift on oblivious
These lights are meaningful
A message writ out large
Lest we forget ourselves
These lights are meaningful
This is our final chance
We had a mission here once

There not just pretty sparks
They're more than tiny stars
These lights are meaningful
We have a reason here
We must resolve ourselves
These lights are meaningful

Maybe I got it wrong
Maybe I am just alone
Anything to feel alive
Take my hand and take me home
Make me feel like I'’m not alone

It'’s what I need

Need I Say More

On the heels of my "ARE YOU A SHEEP, TOO?" entry, I see this has been released at THE SMOKING GUN:

Case Against JonBenet Suspect Collapses
Prosecutors had nothing to go on except Karr's bizarre claims

AUGUST 28--Colorado investigators today provided the first insight into what led them to arrest John Mark Karr for the murder of JonBenet Ramsey. In a motion to quash Karr's arrest warrant, the Boulder County district attorney this afternoon revealed that they had little more than Karr's bizarre claims--contained in e-mails, phone calls, and a 153-page manuscript delivered to a University of Colorado journalism professor--to support their belief that he murdered the six-year-old beauty queen in December 1996. The prosecution's motion, a copy of which you can find below, provides a detailed account of the Karr probe, which collapsed today shortly after test results showed that Karr's DNA did not match samples taken from the crime scene. Until April, Karr's lengthy (and anonymous) correspondence with Professor Michael Tracey only reflected his "intense interest" in the Ramsey case, the D.A.'s motion notes. After that point, though, Karr began to claim "more personal knowledge" about the child's slaying and eventually "admitted personal responsibility for the death." Using the pseudonym "Daxis," Karr even forwarded Tracey a manuscript that described his "fascination with the sexuality with young girls, and his involvement with the death of JonBenet Ramsey."

(READ MORE)

It amazes me that so many people had already condemned this man, based only on speculative fiction propogated by the media hype. Several blogs even wrote about how disappointed they were that the parents were off the hook and the exciting, strange mystery had finally been solved.

How can people be so conclusive. Even with the most damning of evidence, my mind would still remain in a state of "hmmm...." It's just not that easy for me to shift into, "well, that's what the TV says!"

I walk a very fine line between the world of Conspiracy Theorists and Sheep, but that fine line is wide enough for me to walk freely, keep asking questions in the face of what I am told is true, and to think for myself.

I wish more people walked along that line.

Are you a Sheep, too?

JOHN KARR in Custody

I have so much more to write about than this, but it has been eating at me for days...

One of the most annoying things about people is the inclination to be SHEEP.

Some people think people are inherently evil; some people think people are inherently good; but I think people are inherently SHEEP, neither good nor bad, but just MORE LIKELY to think the way The Church tells them to think; to think the way TV tells them to think; to think the way an Authority tells them to think; to think the way The Family tells them to think; to think the way The News tells them to think; to think the way Fashion tells them to think; to think the way White-washed History tells them to think...

Why do I see this? Because I have eyeballs. I see it everyday, all around me, and it PERMEATES the arena of politics, philosophy, religion, charity, medicine, and media. It fascinates me and disgusts me to the point of feeling absolutely alien among most people.

For instance: the recent bombardment from the media about JONBONET RAMSEY's arrested suspect! What the fuck!! (You KNOW there must be something terrifying going on in the world to the extent that we are being drowned in WEAK, speculative suspicion against a case that is 10 years old.) But here's what freaks me out: people are responding to this media bombardment as if the guy actually committed the crime! No, people, there is NOTHING to substantiate him as a suspect, let alone as the actual killer, but people and the media are writhing all over this thing like a dog writhes in shit. I'm not saying he DIDN'T kill JonBonet, and I am not saying that he's innocent or mentally stable, but at this point, he is a SUSPECT, NOT a Convicted Criminal. The media has made such a big deal about the meals he has been served, the smiles on his face, the blankness on his face, the comfort of his travels... SO WHAT!! He's NOT a convicted killer; he is a (loony) SUSPECT who has become entangled in the desperate need to convict SOMEONE... ANYONE. So far, the man has been extremely accommodating, open, and the intense investigation has led to NOTHING tying him to the murder in any way (so far, at least), but people are talking about him as if he is the conclusion to the mystery and that he is a killer. People can "just see" that he is an "evil man." Please. You are seeing what you are told to see. THINK, people. Think a bit beyond your knee-jerk reaction to the influences of media and popular assumption. Just... THINK, for god's sake. The man may or may not be guilty, and he may or may not be a pervert, but that's not my point... it's the way we THINK about this kind of information as it is fed to us. We need to learn to chew and digest before we speak with our mouths full of bullshit.

Why is this such an important issue for me?

Because THIS kind of Sheepish, thoughtless, herd-mentality kind of response to life is a BIG reason for HOW and WHY we are in IRAQ; how and why 9/11 happened; Slavery happened; why and how animals suffer unconscionable torture on a daily basis for the conveniences you take for granted; why Gay people do not have equal rights to Straight people; why and how the Chinese government can harvest live organs from live people; why and how a large portion of Christians, Muslims, and other fanatic cults can justify the imposition of horrors upon other people; why the military can illegally torture prisoners for fun... the list can go on.

It's not enough to be a passenger in this life. i'm sorry... it's not enough. Fucking do something. Pick something and DO something about it. Educate yourselves. CARE.

Don't let the world tell you who is a criminal and who is a saint. Either KNOW, or DON'T KNOW, but don't act like you know what the truth is, when all you did was just fell prey to your inclination to blindly follow the popular assumptions. You know what I am talking about... so don't be insulted. We've all been there, but this is a reminder to just... THINK.

This is YOUR life. This is OUR world.

We fucking need to stop hoping someone else will fix it. We need to stop passively assuming that those in authority know what the hell is best for us, or that those in authority know what the hell they are doing in the first place.

Talk to me... tell me when you last assumed something was true and then was shocked at how gullible you were, how naive, or how influenced you were by the popular assumption.

BONUS DUMBASS NEWS FLASH OF THE WEEK:
George admits we are not in IRAQ as a result of 9/11. Ummm, DUH!

Check out this flawed line of logic from George that leaves the average Sheep believing that we are at war with Iraq BECAUSE of 9/11, Weapons of Mass Destruction, and "Al Qeada," which is a phrase that AMERICAN MEDIA made up and does not exist as an actual structure of terrorists.

TRANSCRIPT EXCERPT:

QUESTION: "A quick follow-up. A lot of the consequences you mention for pulling out seem like maybe they never would have been there if we hadn't gone in. How do you square all of that?"

BUSH: "I square it because imagine a world in which you had a Saddam Hussein who had the capacity to make a weapon of mass destruction, who was paying suiciders to kill innocent life, who would -- who had relations with Zarqawi. Imagine what the world would be like with him in power. The idea is to try to help change the Middle East.

"Now, look, I -- part of the reason we went into Iraq: was -- the main reason we went into Iraq: at the time was we thought he had weapons of mass destruction. It turns out he didn't, but he had the capacity to make weapons of mass destruction.

"But I also talked about the human suffering in Iraq, and I also talked the need to advance a freedom agenda. And so my question -- my answer to your question is, is that imagine a world in which Saddam Hussein was there, stirring up even more trouble in a part of a world that had so much resentment and so much hatred that people came and killed 3,000 of our citizens.

"You know, I've heard this theory about, you know, everything was just fine until we arrived and, you know, kind of -- the "stir up the hornet's nest" theory. It just doesn't hold water as far as I'm concerned. The terrorists attacked us and killed 3,000 of our citizens before we started the freedom agenda in the Middle East. They were -- "

QUESTION: "What did Iraq: have to do with that?"

BUSH: "What did Iraq: have to do with what?"

QUESTION: "The attack on the World Trade Center."

BUSH: "Nothing, except for it's part of -- and nobody's ever suggested in this administration that Saddam Hussein ordered the attack. Iraq: was a -- Iraq: -- the lesson of September the 11th is take threats before they fully materialize, Ken.

"Nobody's ever suggested that the attacks of September the 11th were ordered by Iraq. I have suggested, however, that resentment and the lack of hope create the breeding grounds for terrorists who are willing to use suiciders to kill to achieve an objective. I have made that case. And one way to defeat that -- you know, defeat resentment, is with hope. And the best way to do hope is through a form of government.

"Now, I said going into Iraq: we got to take these threats seriously before they fully materialized. I saw a threat. I fully believe it was the right decision to remove Saddam Hussein, and I fully believe the world was better off without him. Now, the question is, how do we succeed in Iraq? And you don't succeed by leaving before the mission is complete, like some in this political process are suggesting."

END TRANSCRIPT EXCERPT

Sorry to be so bitchy today, but this stuff really gets to me... I invite you to tell me all about how you might have experienced sheepishness or when your rehabilitation from sheepdom happened.

China: Country of Rampant Cruelty

There are plenty of things wrong with the United States and every other country in the world, but I don't know of any other country that is so ignorant and violent and alarmist and controlling and deadly than that of China, though all of Asia in general is pretty much guilty of this, as well. Once again, they are in the news with their reactionary, idiotic violence as a means to control a population, and propagate Fear.

50,000 DOGS WERE KILLED IN 5 DAYS

Apparently, yet another government-imposed fear over (so-called) Rabies has driven the Chinese government to kill every, single dog within the County of Mouding over a 5 day period by beating them to death, even taking them from owners as they walked their dogs and beating them to death on the spot in front of them. The residents were offered the equivalent of 60-something cents if the family would kill their own dog before authorities arrived. For those who tried to save their dogs, the authorities would sneak into the town in ways that would cause dogs to bark as an alert, and then that dog would be killed. Of course, the POLICE and MILITARY dogs were spared.

This isn't the first time there has been a massive slaughter of dogs in China... in preparation for the Olympics being held in Beijing in 2008, over 40,000 dogs were killed as the fantastical rabies scare was strategically imposed by the government as a front for monstrous Mao Tse Tung's declaration that the ownership of a dog is a symbol of "bourgeoisie," since caring for a dog reeks of American freedoms. As usual, as with almost every other mythical virus or disease scare, it is almost always a front for a completely unrelated agenda.

This, from the same country who brought us the stupid, mythical SARS scare, and ridiculous Avian Flu "epidemic," with subsequent "culling" of Cats and Birds in the most horrific, cruel ways (suffocation, drowning, beating, starving, stabbing, crushing, etc.)

This also, from a country who imprisons THOUSANDS of Human Beings because it is against the law to practice their chosen spirituality (Falun Gong) and then using these prisoners as enslaved workers, and HARVESTING THEIR ORGANS WHILE THEY ARE STILL ALIVE to be used for the wealthy who can pay for it! In fact, if you took part in the traveling exhibition called BODIES, where the bodies were mummified in a way that preserved all of the organs for entertainment and observation, you took part in their making a profit from using innocent people WHO WERE KILLED ONLY for use in those exhibits!

There are links, above, for help in what we can do for the Humans being exploited in China, and here is a great site for helping Asia, in general, extend their circle of compassion to include non-human animals.

I have to take heart in the fact that the world IS getting better at experiencing compassion for other humans and non-humans, but we also have a long way to go.

Everybody Needs Some Help, Sometime

This song goes out to all who helped me during my latest transition, whether in thought, patience, understanding, compassion, action, love, healing, invitation, warmth, insight, direction, etc.

More importantly, this song goes out to anyone and everyone who believes he or she is alone and cannot count on the kindness of strangers and friends. That you are alone, is a lie. It will always be a lie. You are never alone, and you can always ask for help, even if you have to ask 100 people to get that help. ASK. And keep asking, without forgetting to take care of yourself along the way.

You are not alone.

Thank you to all my friends. You are the stitching that holds the fabric of my life together in ways that turn out to be how I keep myself warm, sheltered, and embraced when I least expect it.

I love you.

(scroll down, click the PLAY button, and sing along with the lyrics and your heart)


THESE ARE YOUR FRIENDS
ADEM

I wish that I'd arrived a little sooner -
You really should have called
we'd have come here right away
You tried to help yourself but you got it wrong

You've thrown yourself
Into the flames 'cause you're covered in cold
But these are your friends
They give out a nice warm glow

You've tried so hard to see for yourself
Your perspective is wrong
These are your friends
Let them come guide you on

Listen now - now's the time to listen
There're lessons to be learned
I've seen this before in my own life
You feel covered up, removed from the world around you
With all your senses dulled you'd do anything to feel
You tried to help yourself, but you got it wrong

You've thrown yourself
Into the flames 'cause you're covered in cold
But these are your friends
They give out a nice warm glow

What have you done? You're cutting your cord
You're floating in space
But these are your friends
They'll be your star-map home

Everybody needs some help sometimes

BROADBAND VIDEO LINK

The Path to Home Leads Within

LOCAL Celebratory GRAFFITI

Well, I am home (again). I now live in one of my favorite neighborhoods of Manhattan: LOWER EAST SIDE! I love this neighborhood!

First, my road to getting here was a very frustrating and debilitating path, so I am still recovering. In fact, as soon as I was unpacking into my new apartment, I have now fallen sick with a pretty severe summer cold. My body, heart, and mind were just about broken in this latest transition of life.

Instead of sharing this path in story-telling style, I will just list the events:

Cyprus announces out of nowhere that she has decided to live on her own and that we will move from our apartment, separately. This was fine, except that we had very little time to prepare and, while she was totally set with a steady income and support from all around her, I was unprepared because of my sporadic income and lack of support. This decision left me and Johnny in a very difficult and painful position.

I worked hard to secure another income so as to save money in time for my impending move out on my own, which took a lot of time, and then when that was secured, it fell through. I found something else shortly after, and I am SO happy with that source of income. I'm glad the first one fell through, because I love going to work for this extra income now. Still, I would not have enough money or time before our move-out date to secure an apartment on my own.

I negotiated a potential plan with Clem so that I could stay with him as a transition into a new apartment. This was primarily because Cyprus and I had won our court case against our landlord (who was illegally collecting rent from us) and the condition for my collecting my initial deposit back was that we would be out of the apartment by a certain date. That meant that I wouldn't get the money unless I had moved out, but I needed the money to move out! Clem was very supportive and loving in his intentions as a boyfriend to help with this turbulent transition. He encouraged my surrender to this and assured me that it was a viable option. As the time closed in on me and I hadn't secured an apartment, it became one of my only options.

Meanwhile, Cyprus and Nick announce to me that they are not only moving in together, but that they have found a place and would be moving in the middle of the month. So not only was Cyprus leaving me behind, but now she was moving in with Nick, my Ex. This came as a huge shock and I was seriously disoriented by this; left with anger, sadness, and confusion on top of everything.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, Clem dumps me. Just before his eagerly-awaited vacation time out on Fire Island. Along with this announcement to me over the phone, he also made arrangements to come and collect his keys to his apartment. I no longer had the option to stay with him as I secured an apartment. At this point I am seriously at a loss of words for how plummeted into defeat I felt. I knew I would survive and I knew I was going to be okay, but all of this was beating the hell out of me. Clem left for Fire Island and with my anger and sadness amplified by Clem, Cyprus, and Nick, I felt the most isolated and defeated I have felt in a long time.

I speak to Nick and Cyprus about the reality of my probably having to move with them as part of my transition into my own apartment as I saved money and waited for the court settlement. Nick suggests I find someplace else to stay.

I conclude that I am utterly alone in this process and that it may very well end that I am on the streets as I try to find a new home. I brace myself for this.

Nick retracts his suggestion that I find someplace else to stay, explaining that it was just a suggestion and one that was laced with a lot of concern for how long I might end up having to stay. I refuse to accept the retraction and vow that I will not live where I was originally unwanted.

Moving day comes and I am forced to move my stuff along with Cyprus and Nick, but I have no idea where I will live in the days or weeks ahead. I decide to ask my friend, Mark, if I can stay with him. He generously says, "yes!" My stuff is moved into Cyprus's and Nick's place and I leave to go stay with Mark. That's when I discover a miscommunication has occurred and that Mark has left town. I decide to sleep in a park.

Meanwhile, my income has dwindled to a halt because of a lack of connection the internet, and I think, "all I have to do is get through a few days of this until my settlement is released to me and then it will all be over." I surrender to the reality of having to sleep in a park and decide to make an adventure of it. I happened to meet up with Fabio that night, and it had never occurred to me that it was an option to stay with him, but he offered for me to stay with him, despite the lack of room. I told him, no, but he convinced me to check it out and I did, but as I did, I received a devastated phone call from Nick and from Clem who were seriously upset by my having to stay in a park. This upset me so much because I was trying to take care of myself with what little resources I had, but then I was made to feel like I was a criminal for making THEM feel bad for my situation! But it was of no matter to them that I was IN the situation in large part BECAUSE of their influence! LOL It was an exasperating situation on top of all of the feelings and pressure I was already experiencing. Now the situation had transcended from my dealing with MY pain and difficulties, to having to make others feel better about my situation before I did.

I did not stay in a park, after all. I stayed with Nick and Cyprus and Johnny.

Johnny and I had cleaned out the previous apartment and followed all of the conditions so that I could get the settlement, but when I went to claim my money, the evil bastard landlord decided NOT to pay. As a settlement had already been ordered by the court, he HAD to pay, but he delayed my receiving the payment as long as he could AND he short-changed the payment by $700. I spent the next two weeks, every single day, fighting for that money so that I could move and get my own place. My lawyer would confirm that I would be able to collect the money the next day, and then he wouldn't call me, or I would be informed that it would be "just one more day." This went on for more than two weeks beyond when I expected to collect the money.

I surrendered to staying with Cyprus and Nick and Johnny, but this was not a good situation, considering all of the feelings I was having in middle of this horrible transition, along with working at my new job, and dealing the reality of the impact my transition was having on my clients, students, and groups I host online. My lack of ability to remain in contact and follow through with work online was met with harsh criticisms and complaints. Eventually, all of this pressure building all around me and among everyone led to a huge blow-up of emotions. Cyprus and Nick went head to head with Johnny and me, as Johnny was/is in a similar situation of displacement because of Cyprus's decision, and he was feeling the pain and humiliation of that. This explosion seemed to help burn off most of the nastier energy that had been accumulating, and that pivotal explosion was a good thing.

I almost forgot to mention that when Cyprus finally got her internet connection scheduled for setup, the cableman was ARRESTED in the middle of his services and taken away in cuffs! We still do not know what happened, but a second man came to finish the job, and he left the installation in such a shambles that we not only had no internet connection, but Cyprus's computer had to be completely reformatted, with a complete reinstallation of everything. Before I left, they still had no stable internet connection that worked the way it should, but I was able to get her computer restored.

As each day passed and more work was lost, and more apartments were lost (due to my not having enough money for the initial move-in costs to secure the apartment), the delays against my settlement continued. Eventually I had enough money to pay for a move, but had no place to go, but I was suddenly offered a roommate situation with Mark! In the Lower East Side! YAY! I was so thrilled! Not only did he offer this, but he offered it despite the bad timing of my having not received my settlement. I could pay my rent when I received the settlement. I scheduled movers and I was all set!

Then, I awoke one morning just before my move to the sounds of static and splashing... I then hear Nick yelling down into the basement (yes, the basement... that's where I slept while living with them) about a torrential downpour. When he flips on the light, I find that the mattress I am on is now surrounded by swirling torrents of water! The basement was FLOODING! Electronics, clothes, mattress... all submerged in about 5 inches of water! We worked fast to unplug what had been plugged in, and to lift out of water all of the electronics. In the end, the strangest thing had happened: the shape of the old basement floor had created a pattern in the swirling water so that the flow had not touched my mattress, had not touched my electronics, but several bags of my clothes had become saturated in flood waters. I spend the next two days washing all of my clothes to the extent that I can before I move.

The day of my move! The movers show up 2 hours early! This is fine, because I am already packed, but I had made arrangements for later with Mark, and this timing was essential since his current roommate had not moved out, yet. I clear it with Mark that I can arrive earlier than planned. I am loaded and ready to go, but have to find a way for me and Spyder to get to the new apartment. No car service will come to get me, except one, and they made me pay a huge price for bringing my wonderful dog.

I arrive to the building where my movers have already parked and I find that the security of the building has turned them away.... because NO MOVE INS ARE ALLOWED ON A SUNDAY!! NOT ONLY THAT, but they will not allow a move-in from the unloading area without a proper permit that I would not be able to get in time. Not only THAT, but they have a rule against any unloading or loading from a truck in the parking lot, which would shorten the unloading distance! Mark is not at the apartment (because I was two hours early), and the previous roommate (who was still living in the apartment) was not answering the phone, SO... the movers had to leave with all of my stuff.

Luckily, the adorable movers liked me and they came back two hours later for unloading, despite the restrictions for Sunday move-ins, but they would not be able to unload anywhere near the building: they ended up having to unload the truck and move in my stuff from about an entire block away!

I tipped them extravagantly for their amazing patience and effort.

The day came for me to collect on my settlement! I no longer have a checking or savings account because I cancelled out my awful "credit union" account I had from Saks (from when I used to work there), so the lawyer assured me I would be able to have the check made out to whomever I wanted so I could cash it or pay someone or do whatever I wanted. This was perfect.

Except, not only did that not happen, but they made the check out to BOTH Cyprus AND me (since we were both a part of the lawsuit against our landlord)... requiring BOTH of us to be present at the time of the check cashing. I discovered a check-cashing place nearby that would allow a settlement check to be cashed, and so all I had to do was get Cyprus to meet me.

But of all the days to do so, she had left her cell phone at home. I had no way to inform her to meet me. Not only that, but it was the evening of her big business dinner. Luckily, I knew where she was, called them to have a discreet message given to her, and she was able to call me and make a quick arrangement for later. We were able to cash the check within ten minutes of closing.

Although I had moved in, the previous roommate kept having a story as to why he could not move, so he lived here, too, and then it took a few more days for him to come and get his stuff when he did leave, which left no room for my unpacking completely. He and his stuff are now gone.

I wish so much that I could say I am safe and sound and feeling at home, but I'm not quite there, yet.

As soon as I began unpacking, I fell ill with a severe summer cold, discovered how filthy the apartment really was and how many days of cleaning it would take to make it livable, how much money I would have to spend in that process, and to my shock and horror that the apartment is infested with ROACHES toward which I am now waging a battle! In addition to that, I have been attacked verbally by two groups of Black people already, shouting out hateful and threatening words against my sexuality, screaming out that "he takes it up the ass!" and that I should kill my dog because she is "fuckin' UGLY," and to "get the fuck out of here, you fuckin' homo!" Not only have I never had to deal with this kind of violent and hateful assault except from Black people, but I have NEVER had my sexuality used as a form of public humiliation and assault. The words are meaningless because they are just stupid, but the extent of hatred and venom behind the words are what terrify me, since it's the kind of hatred that causes someone to spittle while scraping the words across another person. I guess it's not just a Brooklyn thing...

Despite all of the adventure, loss, turbulence, etc. I am feeling pretty happy, as there is nothing left for me to do but to laugh and trust and move forward, loving even the most bizarre and confusing elements of this funhouse of my life. So don't get me wrong... I am really excited and thrilled and relieved, despite not being able to fully just relax into it.

Today I sit in a sparkling clean apartment, with fresh flowers in vases throughout, and the roaches almost under control (this really REALLY bothers me), and I have a truly appreciative roommate. Cyprus and Nick and Johnny and I are all better with each other and may experience a new level of bonding, though it will take some patience and time. I truly love them, so it's vital to allow the anger, hurt, loss... but also vital to make the effort to heal these experiences. People don't realize that the very experiences that can tear you apart are the very experiences that can bond you in love.

As for Clem, we've barely spoken to each other since the breakup (my choice; he actively keeps in touch), but we are okay. I developed a love for Clem that won't just disappear, so I choose to cultivate the healing, even if that will take a long time, or end in a gentle fading away from each other's lives, or he just becomes another friend. I'm getting used to Boyfriend-come-Friend equation.

I lie here with my dog, Spyder, in the middle of a horrendous heat wave, but at least with some weak air conditioning, and the reality is that there have been more wonderful people welcoming me into the neighborhood than I have experienced in a long time. That's something I never experienced in Brooklyn. People actually speak to you in Manhattan. In Brooklyn, everyone seems to keep to themselves and you never know your neighbors, unless you have been living in a particular neighborhood for a long time. In Manhattan, I have always known nearly every neighbor I have, because they actively interact and welcome you. I am so glad to have that again! Another wonderful thing that I haven't experienced in a long time is having random conversations with strangers pop up so naturally and organically while out and about doing daily errands and walking Spyder. That never really happened in Brooklyn.

So... I'm not completely "at home," yet, but I am closer. I think I need to feel it inside of me, first, before I begin to completely see it around me.

But I'm on the right track...

Barbaro: The Race to Reinstill Human Compassion

I have a lot of updates to report about my transition into, through, and beyond my most recent move, but first I have to write about this:

ANIMALS ARE NOT OURS TO EXPLOIT

I'm sure that most of you have heard or read about Barbaro, the winner of the ridiculous Kentucky Derby that forces high-speed racing upon thoroughbred horses as a form of gambling and entertainment. As with much of the cruelty within the industry of non-human animal slavery, much of what happens is either ignored or unknown and it breaks my heart that this beautiful creature may continue to suffer, and surely die, without anyone really understanding how unnecessary his injury and death are. This horse will suffer and die as a result of greedy, apathetic, disconnected human indulgence, and there is nothing I can do about it. Barbaro represents so many other animals in the entertainment industry who suffer or die for absolutely no point but to make Humans laugh or make money.

Beyond the obvious horrors of war, poverty, illness, and other troubles in our world, I find it more terrifying when something so devestating and insidious such as animal exploitation, slavery, abuse, and cruelty is met with such widespread apathy, active dismissal, and complete ignorance. I can't save Barbaro, but I just wish for just one more person to care enough to stand as a form of intelligent rejection of such things as Horse Racing. It's a start. Maybe you won't give up eating animal bodies as a form of convenience, and maybe you won't stop wearing their skins, but starting SOMEWHERE as a form of support for compassion beyond our species is a start at supporting peace in our world in a way you may never have considered. Think about it: If a person can wrap his or her mind and heart around the concept of caring enough for another species that his or her choices then take the shape of choosing compassion, peace, and kindness... it only makes sense that this same energy would affect our species and our world. And I don't mean that in some metaphysical sense; I mean it literally. That "energy" is the impact of your choices, your behaviors, your thinking... and when those things are shaped by conscious compassion, it cannot help but change our world.

It's important, though, to make your choices from an educated position, and here are some details about the Horse Racing industry:

The Horseracing Industry: Drugs, Deception and Death

They weigh at least 1,000 pounds, they have legs that are supported by ankles the size of a human’s, and they’re forced to run around dirt tracks at speeds of more than 30 miles per hour while carrying people on their backs.(1) Racehorses are the victims of a multibillion-dollar industry that is rife with drug abuse, injuries, and race fixing, and many horses’ careers end in slaughterhouses. A New York Daily News reporter remarked, “The thoroughbred race horse is a genetic mistake. It runs too fast, its frame is too large, and its legs are far too small. As long as mankind demands that it run at high speeds under stressful conditions, horses will die at racetracks.”(2)

The Starting Gate

Racehorses can cost millions of dollars and are often purchased by syndicates, which may be composed of thousands of members.(3,4) There are also trainers, handlers, veterinarians, and jockeys involved, so a horse is rarely able to develop any kind of bond with one person or with other horses. Racehorses travel from country to country, state to state, and racetrack to racetrack, so few horses are able to call one place “home.” Most do not end up in the well-publicized races but are instead trucked, shipped, or flown to the thousands of other races that take place all over the country every year.

Racing to the Grave

Horses begin training or are already racing when their skeletal systems are still growing and are unprepared to handle the pressures of running on a hard track at high speeds.(5) Improved medical treatment and technological advancements have done little to remedy the plight of the racehorse. One study on injuries at racetracks concluded that one horse in every 22 races suffered an injury that prevented him or her from finishing a race, while another estimates that 800 thoroughbreds die each year in North America because of injuries.(6) Strained tendons or hairline fractures can be tough for veterinarians to diagnose, and the damage may go from minor to irreversible at the next race or workout. Horses do not handle surgery well, as they tend to be disoriented when coming out of anesthesia, and they may fight casts or slings, possibly causing further injury. Many are euthanized in order to save the owners further veterinary fees and other expenses on horses who can’t race again.

Given the huge investment that owning a horse requires, reported one Kentucky newspaper, “simply sending one to pasture, injured or not, is not an option all owners are willing to consider.”(7) Care for a single racehorse can cost as much as $50,000 per year.(8) When popular racehorse Barbaro suffered a shattered ankle at the beginning of the 2006 Preakness, his owners spared no expense for his medical needs, but as The New York Times reported, “[M]any in the business have noted that had Barbaro not been the winner of the Kentucky Derby, he might have been destroyed after being injured.”(9) Compare Barbaro’s story to that of Magic Man, who stepped into an uneven section of a track and broke both front legs during a race at Saratoga Race Course. His owner had bought him for $900,000, yet the horse hadn’t earned any money yet and—unproven on the track—wasn’t worth much as a stud, so he was euthanized.(10) Joseph Dirico, the owner of a filly who suffered a heart attack and died mid-race at Pimlico only days after the Preakness, said of her death, “I guess that’s part of the game.”(11)

Drugs and Deception

“Finding an American racehorse trained on the traditional hay, oats, and water probably would be impossible,” commented one reporter.(12) Many racehorses become addicted to drugs when their trainers and even veterinarians give them drugs to keep them on the track when they shouldn’t be racing.

Which drugs are legal varies from state to state, with Kentucky holding the reputation as the most lenient state.(13) The New York Sun explained that because “thoroughbreds are bred for flashy speed and to look good in the sales ring … the animal itself has become more fragile” and that “to keep the horses going,” they’re all given Lasix (which controls bleeding in the lungs), phenylbutazone (an anti-inflammatory), and cortiscosteroids (for pain and inflammation).(14) Those drugs, although legal, can also mask pain or make a horse run faster. Labs cannot detect all the illegal drugs out there, of which there “could be thousands,” says the executive director of the Racing Medication and Testing Consortium.(15) Morphine, which can keep a horse from feeling any pain from an injury, was suspected in the case of Be My Royal, who won a race while limping.(16) One trainer was suspended for using an Ecstasy-type drug in five horses, and another has been kicked off racetracks for using clenbuterol and, in one case, for having the leg of a euthanized horse cut off “for research.”(17,18) A New York veterinarian and a trainer faced felony charges when the body of a missing racehorse turned up at a farm and authorities determined that her death had been caused by the injection of a “performance-enhancing drug.”(19)

“There are trainers pumping horses full of illegal drugs every day,” says a former Churchill Downs public relations director. (20) “With so much money on the line, people will do anything to make their horses run faster.”

Even the ‘Winners’ Lose

Few racehorses are retired to pastures for pampering and visits from caring individuals.

An insurance scandal cost the life of Alydar, who came in second in all three races of the 1978 Triple Crown and fathered many fast horses. After being retired from racing in order to serve as a stud at a Kentucky farm, Alydar was originally believed to have shattered his leg by kicking a stall door and was euthanized when he wasn’t able to maintain a splint.(21) Ten years later, an FBI investigation revealed that his leg was deliberately broken when it was tied by a rope to a pickup truck.(22)

Ferdinand, a Derby winner and Horse of the Year in 1987, was retired to Claiborne Farms and then changed hands at least twice before being “disposed of” in Japan; a reporter covering the story concluded, “No one can say for sure when and where Ferdinand met his end, but it would seem clear he met it in a slaughterhouse.”(23) Exceller, a million-dollar racehorse who was inducted into the National Racing Museum’s Hall of Fame, was killed at a Swedish slaughterhouse.(24)

The United States has a multimillion-dollar horsemeat export business and slaughters tens of thousands of horses every year.(25,26) Although horsemeat is not consumed in the United States, it is eaten in Europe and Asia, and more than 1,000 tons of it is sold to U.S. zoos in order to feed animals there.(27) One Colorado State University study found that of 1,348 horses sent to slaughter, 58 were known to be former racehorses.(28)

There are three equine slaughterhouses left in the U.S., two in Texas and one in Illinois, so most horses who are sent to those facilities from other states are forced to endure days of transport in cramped trailers.(29) Usually, there is no access to water or food, and injuries are common: A University of California, Davis, study of 306 horses destined for slaughter found that 60 of them sustained injuries during transport.(30) While veterinarians recommend that horses be offloaded for food and water every four hours while traveling, the U.S. Department of Agriculture allows horses to be shipped for 28 hours without a break.(31) Horses are subject to the same method of slaughter as cows, but since horses are generally not accustomed to being herded, they tend to thrash about in order to avoid the pneumatic gun that is supposed to render them unconscious before their throats are cut.(32)

What You Can Do

In a commentary on the racing industry, a reporter for the Philadelphia Daily News remarked, “It is not something they talk about much in their advertising, but horses die in this sport all the time—every day, every single day.”(33) Help phase out this exploitative “sport”: Refuse to patronize existing tracks, work to ensure that racing regulations are reformed and enforced, lobby against the construction of new tracks, and educate your friends and family members about the tragic lives that racehorses lead.

(courtesy of Peta.org)

References
1) Ted Miller, “Six Recent Horse Deaths at Emerald Downs Spark Concern,” Seattle Post-Intelligencer 8 May 2001.
2) Bill Finley, “Sadly, No Way to Stop Deaths,” New York Daily News 10 Jun. 1993.
3) Sherry Ross, “Fans Are Buying In,” Daily News 1 Jun. 2003.
4) “The Odds Are You’ll Lose: Owning a Racehorse,” Financial Times 1 Feb. 2003.
5) Glenn Robertson Smith, “Why Racehorses Are Cracking Up,” The Age (Australia) 15 Nov. 2002.
6) Miller.
7) Tim Reynolds, “Technology Can’t Prevent Horse Injuries,” The Lexington Herald-Leader 30 Aug. 2001.
8) Andrew Beyer, “A Beyer’s Guide for Racehorses,” The Washington Post 3 Jun. 2003.
9) William C. Rhoden, “An Unknown Filly Dies, and the Crowd Just Shrugs,” The New York Times 25 May 2006.
10) Rhoden.
11) Reynolds.
12) John Scheinman, “Horses, Drugs Are Racing’s Daily Double; No Uniform Policy in Industry,” The Washington Post 27 Apr. 2003.
13) Janet Patton, “HBPA Proposes Uniform Policy on Drugs in Racing; Horsemen’s Group Targets Maze of State Rules,” The Lexington Herald-Leader 17 Oct. 2001.
14) Max Watman, “So Far, So Good for Barbaro,” The New York Sun 21 May 2006.
15) Scheinman.
16) Peat Bee, “Cut the Poppycock and Treat Drugs With Horse Sense,” The Guardian 13 Jan. 2003.
17) Alex Straus, “Dark Horses,” Maxim May 2002.
18) Tom Keyser, “Gill Is Still Permitted to Stable, Race Horses at Pimlico, Laurel,” The Baltimore Sun 6 Apr. 2003.
19) “Trainer, Vet Charged in Trotter’s Death,” Associated Press, 22 Apr. 2001.
20) Straus.
21) Skip Hollandsworth, “The Killing of Alydar,” Texas Monthly Jun. 2001.
22) Straus.
23) Barbara Bayer, “1986 Kentucky Derby Winner Ferdinand Believed to Have Been Slaughtered in Japan,” The Blood-Horse Magazine 26 Jul. 2003.
24) Allen G. Breed, “And What of the Spent Racehorse?” Associated Press, 25 Nov. 1999.
25) Food and Agriculture Organization of the United Nations, “Horsemeat Exports—Value,” 2004.
26) Food and Agriculture Organization of the United Nations, “Horsemeat Slaughtered/Prod Animals (Head),” 2005.
27) Josh Harkinson, “Horse Flesh: Texas Struggles With What to Do With Its Overabundance of Equus Caballus While Europeans Wait With Open Mouths,” Houston Press 13 Apr. 2006.
28) K. McGee et al., “Characterizations of Horses at Auctions and in Slaughter Plants,” Colorado State University Department of Animal Sciences, 2001.
29) Todd J. Gillman, “Judge Won’t Stop Slaughterhouses; Appeal Weighed,” The Dallas Morning News 14 Mar. 2006.
30) C.L. Stull, “Responses of Horses to Trailer Design, Duration, and Floor Area During Commercial Transportation to Slaughter,” Journal of Animal Science 77 (1999): 2925-33.
31) Harkinson.
32) Kris Axtman, “Horse-Meat Sales Stir Texas Controversy,” Christian Science Monitor 28 Apr. 2003.33) Rich Hofmann, “Racing Brings Up the Rear in Safety,” Philadelphia Daily News 23 May 2006.

TUSH: by Jaffe Cohen

I am PROUD to announce the publication of my friend, Jaffe's, first novel, TUSH! Not only can you check it out on AMAZON, but you can purchase it in your local bookstores in July! If your bookstore doesn't have it, please ask them to order it.

AMAZON LISTING

Jaffe will also be on tour and part of his tour will be in our wonderful city of NEW YORK, so if you are local, send me an email and arrange to go with me to see him! He is HILARIOUS!!! Here are details for the NYC events:

Jaffe Cohen
The "Tush" Tour
Come spend an evening with one of the original Funny Gay Males as he celebrates the publication of his first novel Tush. With surprise guests!

WHERE: Don't Tell Mama; 343 W. 46 Street
WHEN: Mondays at 9 PM; July 24-August 14
HOW: $10 cover; 2 drink minimum

LET'S GO!

Long Journey Home

Patience, my dears... when I land from this flight of transition, I will write about the adventures that have befallen me. Some good, some terrible, but all of them a part of me and my life, so I gotta love it all.

Keep rooting for me to find "home!"

And I have to Juggle, too!

NOT ME (but like me)

Well, this morning moves me into the next tightrope walk into the circus that is my life. I will have a two-part move, since I have not secured my own apartment, yet, so my stuff is being moved with Cyprus's and I am going to stay SOMEWHERE (anyone want a CocteauBoy on their couch for a few days?) as I try to juggle work, finding an apartment, and recovering from the on-going blows of life. It's all good, though. I was born in a town that has a permanent Big Top, and is hailed as the "Circus City Capital of the World," so I can handle all of this: the tightropes, the juggling, and distractions, comedies, drama, and still manage to keep my smile real.

I'll let you know where I finally land. And I have some amazing updates to log here very soon!

Escape From Brooklyn

Well, here is an unhappy update on the attacks that happen weekly, if not daily, in and around my neighborhood (on a side note: despite my general, happy demeanor, it has come to my attention that nothing good has happened in my life since moving to Brooklyn):

1. An older neighbor woman with a busted up leg who can barely walk her two dogs was attacked by a Black man who was involved in a violent, loud physical brawl with his wife/girlfriend in the middle of the street. As my neighbor hobbled by, the man rushed over to her, started screaming into her face, but she was suddenly more terrified for her dogs than anything, so she started scrambling to keep them close to her. She couldn't understand a word he was screaming into her face, but as she ducked to pick up one of her dogs, she barely missed the swing of this man's fist toward her face. Her reaction of shock must have put this man back into some semblance of humanity and instead of swinging at her face again, he stepped back and told her he would "be back in a few days to kill her." THIS CAME OUT OF NOWHERE in the middle of the day on a disabled, older woman! This kind of random violence makes NO sense to me.

2. Cyprus was on her way home from the subway, walking up to our block, when she noticed a van with its back windows busted out. A car was parked close to the back of van and the van was being unloaded into the car by two Black men. She could tell this was a crime, but kept walking, and as she neared our building, she called the police. It turns out that it WAS a robbery and somebody's parked van was just being completely emptied of all of its contents. Detectives are coming to our home on Monday night so Cyprus can see if she recognizes any mugshots. She only saw one of the men very clearly, and she is not pointing out anyone unless it is very clear that it is the same man.

3. On the way home from the subway this week, Johnny was on his cell phone talking to a friend when 3 Black teens on a single bicycle rushed him and smacked his cell phone from his ear and out of his hand, smashing to the ground from the force. The phone broke into pieces. Before Johnny could get the main body of the phone back, one of them jumped from the bike and grabbed it up, thrusting his chest out at Johnny to challenge him. Then they all took off... with his phone. Johnny was shocked and then immediately furious and picked up a brick and hurled it at the fuckers, but not in a way that would hit them.

4. Rising up from the street the other day, I heard a woman screaming violent obscenities at someone, "You muthuh fuckn nigguh, I's gonna kill you, you fuckn muthuh fuckn nigguh! I'll fuckn rip out yor fuckn throat, muthuh fuckuh!" and this went on long enough for me to get to the window to see what could possibly warrant this kind of screaming on the street. It was a Black woman reprimanding a child as the kid slinked behind her in the shadows of her public screams of violent threats. She remained "talking" to this child in this manner all the way down the street. I don't know if this child was her son, but she was an adult and he was a child. That's all I know for sure and it was sickening. I just don't get it.

I cannot wait to get out of my neighborhood, and maybe even Brooklyn. I have grown to despise this element of living out here. Brooklyn is this amazing, wonderful, beautiful part of New York City, made ugly by these attacks that happen weekly in my life to someone around my neighborhood.

In Manhattan, I know of no one who has ever been attacked (even though I know people DO get attacked; I just don't know of anyone), but I don't think I have met a single person in Brooklyn who hasn't been attacked in some form. I had a few close-calls in Manhattan, one from a White guy, one Black, and one Hispanic; so I know it's not a Race thing... people are just people, and people can be violent and stupid, but in my current neighborhood of Brooklyn, it just happens to be a Black thing... or more specifically, a Class thing that is exacerbated by entitlement. What with all of these annoying, subsidized hipsters moving into the heart of an area swarming with government-subsidized project communities, the tension is bound to be raised.

Still, there are absolutely no excuses for these random, violent acts, even if perpetuated by economic imbalances. I'm at a loss as to what can be done, but I feel a little defeated for all of us. I hate that I have to worry about my physical well-being, just to go to the grocery store in the middle of the day. I hate that I fear walking my dog in my neighborhood, and that I now just can't wait to get away from Brooklyn.

My relationship with Brooklyn is a bit like dating someone who is neglectful and abusive, but who is so charming and beautiful. What with my being dumped by Clem, and my friendships with Cyprus and Nick in shambles, there is little reason to keep holding on to my romantic idea of Brooklyn.

In a few days I have to find SOMEWHERE to live, and I am still looking, so we'll see what happens...

I Need You So Much Closer

THE END OF CLEM & TROY

Life is never just Black & White, but filled with a spectrum of shades, hues, and colors that help blend into even the most contrasting of moments. I'm walking into that bridge between colors today as I adjust to the shock of contrast between the naive assumption of everlasting Love, and the reality of the ebb and flow of relationships.

Clem broke up with me last night. Over the phone.

This morning he stopped by to bring my stuff from his apartment and to take back his things left here, before he scampers off to his Fire Island vacation. It's amazing how quickly two lives can become entangled in such a way, like secret threads of each other represented in Things... weaving in and out of each other's space. If this happens on the physical level, it must happen on the emotional and intellectual levels, too.

And this is why these divisions hurt so much: the pulling apart of interwoven lives; the unraveling of everything that was intended. We gather up the yarn of our wishes and wants and try to make something different from that.

I'm writing that Life is "never just Black & White" because it wouldn't be fair to portray Clem as having done something wrong or horrible or hurtful. That wasn't his intention and I believe he is telling the truth about how much he really loves me... despite the fact that he no longer wants to be my boyfriend.

I've heard this before, which is why I am surrounded by Exes now standing as Best Friends.

I love you, Clemente. I will really miss us...

...a lot.

My Limbo and Flux You TWO

Yeesh, I don't think any other blog entry has spawned such polarized reactions as my entry trying to celebrate my efforts to sustain and fulfill MY version of living life vs someone else's idea about how to live life. People either read it for what it was, or they read it as a slam against "the mainstream" and just left it at that.

Listen... my post to celebrate and cheer on my efforts to be myself, honor myself, and try to strike a balance in a world full of pressure to conform to a standard, was just THAT... my celebration and cheering on of myself. It wasn't a slam against those of you who CHOOSE to participate in "the mainstream" and it wasn't a slam against those whose dreams happen to coincide with what the mainstream expects of you. That is a lucky and beautiful thing, and if my way of living, or my dreams coincided with the mainstream, I would be delighted.

My angle of distaste was directed toward those who succumb to the pressure to be a cog in the wheel of life, who then bitterly enforce that same defeat upon others; it was also directed toward those who are lucky enough to have their goals and dreams be perfectly in alignment with the mainstream, who then stand in contempt and arrogance over others using smug justifications. THEY are the "walking dead" and those afraid of splashing about in the waters of uncertainty in life. THEY are the zombies who just want to bite you and make you one of them.

So if your dreams align with the mainstream... maybe try to generate some gratitude for that wonderful position you have in life, and try to generate some compassion for those of us who feel a design to do differently.

We are all trying to get to the same places, so don't be a hater, 'k?

Peace.

His Name Is Alive (on Vimeo)

His Name Is Alive on Vimeo

Gorgeous, beautiful His Name Is Alive performed at Mercury Lounge last night, and I was graced with the presence of my lovely boyfriend as my date. The performance is such a treat because it is really only recently, after all of these years, that HNIA is touring. They perform their old songs with completely new twists, and even some of their new songs from the new album "Detrola" have unusual live versions, so everything is really fresh, alive, and new during the show. I've fallen in love with them all over again.

Here is a teeny clip from last night's performance of a classic song of theirs, done in a more mournful way than the original version, which was done with a gospel choir and children.

MORE ON HNIA:
http://www.myspace.com/hisnameisalive
http://www.hisnameisalive.com

ENJOY!

My Limbo and Flux You

Everything seems to be in limbo right now. Isn't it funny that "limbo" is a playful game of bending over backwards and moving forward, and it also implies a kind of imprisoning with lack of movement. Me: I'm bending over backwards and moving forward.

Most of the time I see this kind of flux as a form of adventure. Part of the adventure is that it's just a part of life that things change and that's a good thing. The limbo and flux is the price I pay for the kind of life I choose to live. I'd rather spend my energy treading water in life while doing what I love, than to stand on dry land, safe, but alone and ineffective.

One of the main things I have learned in recent years is that life is not about EXTREMES. It's about balance, harmony, healthiness, and compassion. Sure, I can be extreme and do ONLY what I love, struggling against the raging waters for my very survival along the way; or I could do the other extreme and "get a job" that would bring about a weekly stability, but suck dry all of the time and energy I would otherwise have for my life. Either extreme is not kind, healthy, compassionate, or balanced (for me). They are cruel methods of living and many in this world feel they have to choose one of those extremes against their inner navigation.

In fact, the world is often divided in many ways by that very line: People who live in the acceptable mainstream, stable world of glorified mediocrity, and people who live in the distant, chaotic world of contemptuous naivete. I am from the latter.

Neither extreme is better than the other, but the sheer pressure of our social peers makes the mainstream, relinquishing of dreams, to be an acceptable and even enticing world to join. (I wonder what it's like in cultures where the reverse is true.) I am tempted into this surrender of dreams all of the time. It is truly easier to surrender your dreams for a piece of stability and mainstream acceptability, than to pursue your dreams and live out the chaos of your creativity. I am often tempted to take the easy way out, especially now that I will be living on my own. The pressure is on from all around me, too. My loved ones take great measures to convince me to conform to the expectations of our society, culture, monetary status, and just give in; join those who stand on safe, little islands of dry land.

But I know I will never join that common world of dry land.

I will create or find my an island of my choosing, thank you very much. I don't need to join those who lie upon, or wander about, the worn-out shores of social acceptance, mediocrity, and mainstream as a way to live my life. I want to create and/or find new places and share methods for how others can do the same! It may come as a shock to some people, but there IS more to life than what we can see at a glance. It's beautiful out here in the water.

So, I won't be joining the walking dead on the dream-littered beaches any time, soon.

Cyprus knows this, too, and this is the motivation behind our separation after all of these years. That's a good thing, though. We live and work incredibly well together, but after all of these years, the lifting of the weight of catering to such extreme differences in each other's world will be a great relief.

When people define me, or conclude me, by the fact that I have a sporadic income, distracting dreams, and a willingness to living a bit chaotic and creatively, they sometimes interpret this as being irresponsible, childish, and inconvenient. When people do this, I feel so utterly invisible and sad. It will always be shocking to me when people define others by the superficialities of life. This is like calling someone ugly because his skin is not perfect, or because she is fat. Think of the shallow mentality that easily dismisses the boy with the bad skin through a distant pity for his condition, or that is repelled by the fat girl because "she obviously doesn't take care of herself." It is really lazy, and really easy, for some to dismiss or repel others because of what certain symbols mean to them. For instance, it is really lazy and really easy to dismiss me because I don't fit into the mainstream rules of financial stability and routine.

How we interpret the conditions and symptoms of another person's life is more about OURSELVES than about the person living that life.

Everything you don't like about me, or my life, is reflective of what you repel and reject in yourself . Everything you love about me, or my life, is reflective of what you desire and embrace in yourself. People rarely have relationships with other people, but, instead have relationships with THEIR OWN REFLECTIONS extracted from other people. When we really allow room for others TO BE THEMSELVES, we finally know intimacy.

This is why I find I am truly invisible to some people. They see only parts of themselves in me, instead of just ME. That's part of life, though.

I survived through 18 years of torture, and then another 18 years of creating and pursuing a life to counter the pain and horrors I survived. My life has always been about survival, and I am done with that game. As part of the creation and pursuit of my life, my aim was to do this through helping others create and pursue their own idea of what their lives could be. During that second set of 18 years, I managed to do all I could to help the world around me, while trying to balance helping myself. That's a tough one to do, but I've done it! Yes, I trip and fall a lot, but getting up and continuing is part of the process of creating and owning ones life.

But, see, I am only 38. Yes, I said it: ONLY 38. If I were to die today, people would comment on how young I was to have died. In the two years since I finished that second set of 18 years, I have come to several realizations:

I have my whole life ahead of me. And it's MINE. And it's mine to SHARE, not to give away. I will always know that at any point when I die, I will have loved my life, despite its challenges and pain, because I know I have loved and cared for everything I have created from me. Life happens FROM you; not TO you.

I didn't give up on me, like others may have. I didn't choose convenience over creativity, like others may have. I didn't choose complacency over challenge, like others may have. I didn't choose familiarity and routine over risk, like others may have. I keep trying to play the way everyone wants me to play, but I am playing a different game, I suppose, so the rules through which I have tried to play for so long just don't work.

I know I am not a convenient person to know or love. In a culture that encourages as much convenience and superficial, immediate stimulation as possible, I can be a troublesome, inconvenient, and boring boy.

Over the past two years I have discovered that the conflict and challenge of finding balance in my life is actually IN the relinquishing of my passion, or in the joining of the world of stable mediocrity, but NOT in the WHOLEHEARTED commitment to what I want to do with my life!

If I do not feel I am worth the effort, who will?

Struggling to live the life you want does not make you tired and bitter, but neither does doing what you have to do along the way. It's in our assumptions that we are trapped by the extremes of life that we get tired, despairing, frustrated, and depressed. When we finally GET IT that life fluctuates, changes, and is a long-term dance of creation and interpretation, then we can free ourselves from these extremes and live within the SPECTRUM of life.

We are never really in limbo or in flux, happy or sad, trapped or free, in love or rejected, doing what we want, or not doing what we want... we are never really those things. We are just LIVING. It's all just a PART of us, our lives, and each other. And it changes. All the time.

Enjoy the ride!

So the next time you are disappointed in yourself or in someone else, try to actually LIVE a little. Free yourself and/or the other person from the constraints of an outdated paradigm that encourages you to polarize yourself against yourself or someone else.

We are a spectrum. And so is everyone else.

And so is everything.

Finding "Home"

BIG NEWS:

I am moving.

Soon.

Alone.

Just me and my dog, Spyder.

I need to find an affordable apartment.

Fast.

Any inside connections or direction would be GREATLY appreciated!

I prefer to live:

• anywhere along the L in Brooklyn at any of these stops: Bedford, Lorimer, Graham, Grand, or Montrose.
• anywhere in Manhattan below 100th Street
• in Manhattan, I prefer Lower East Side, East Village
• wherever I move next needs to be considered a potential home for a long time
• with rent around $1300/month
• but I am open to any great suggestions or direction
• roommate situation is acceptable, temporarily
  

HELP?

Swallowing Racism

I wish I knew better how to handle the societally-accepted racism from some pockets of Black people toward other races. Racism exists among all races, and in varying degrees; I know that. But more and more I am seeing blatant, entitled acts of loud, violent, and unwarranted acts of public racism from Blacks toward other races. A week doesn't pass without my hearing a Black person make a derogatory remark, LOUDLY, about another person, based on color of skin, and probably not a month goes by without my seeing a violent act against a non-Black person from a Black person.

What can we do to keep from taking this giant step backward?

1. WHAT'S THAT SMELL!
Clem and I went to Coney Island on Easter Sunday with a few of his friends and had a great time. The Cyclone is AMAZING! I loved it so much more than I expected, but nothing beats the old, wooden coasters vs these modern contraptions that have you so secured and on such a smooth ride. As we stood in line, we were among many, many Black people, which, of course, didn't occur to me until, loudly, a group of them loudly stated, "God, I hate that smell... smells like White People!" WTF?!

2. RUN FOR THE BORDER, BITCH!
Within minutes of the same loud comment above, another set of Black people violently began pushing an Hispanic couple to try to cut them from being able to ride on their turn for the Cyclone. The Hispanic couple were confused and just continued climbing into their coaster car, even as a Black girl screamed out at them, "Go back to your own country, bitch! Run for the border!" Not only was this awful and shocking and ignorant, but as the car pulled away, one of the Black guys running the ride cheered the Black girl on! I know that worse things were said, but I was in such shock, I can't remember a lot of it.

3. PAY YOUR TAXES
As I walked home from the grocery store just this past week, I heard a lot of screaming and shouting. I saw that it was a bunch of Black teens being obnoxious and thought nothing much about it, even as I noticed they were whooping and hollering in a mass of about 30, on bikes, tearing up the street from behind me. Across the street, walking in the opposite direction was a young guy who lives in my building. The swarm of teens crashed into and around the young guy, shouting at him. They pulled at his headphones, kicked at him, tore at his clothes, like animals attacking prey. They started shouting at him to give his money to them because he "owed taxes for walking on THEIR sidewalk." I didn't really know what to do, so I pulled out my cell phone to try to discreetly call 911 as I continued walking, but they saw me and someone shouted, "YO! He's callin' the police! GET HIM!" Inside, I was utterly terrified! Outside of me, however, (and I don't know HOW I do this), I remained utterly calm and unaffected. One of them was running up fast from behind me with his arm extended, holding a club-like weapon, and another one shouted out, "YO! Don't hit him, yet!" I was ready to fight, even though my hands were full of grocery bags, and I was trying to call the police, and I was scared out of my mind. Dialing was no longer an option as I had to now defend myself. Several of them swarmed around me and began tearing at my clothes, kicking me, and threatening me. There were too many to fight, so all I did was WALK. I just kept walking against the assault, being knocked, HARD, against one who would then kick me back into another, but I pulled out my keys and approached my apartment building doors. Someone yelled out, "YO! He's pullin' out his keys!" I don't know why this distracted them, but they suddenly dropped the assault and started riding and running away, whooping and screaming, shouting out, "YO! We'll get you NEXT time!"

I looked back to the other guy who had been attacked before me, and he was safe, but standing, overwhelmed and in shock, I am sure. I think he was dialing his phone. I got inside my apartment building doors as fast as I could and dialed 911. Well, I tried to dial. Suddenly, all of my calmness left me and I was shaking SO much; I couldn't dial! I was so shaken that I missed walking past my apartment floor and walked all the way to the rooftop doors! When I finally dialed and got through to the police, I was horrified that the response was, "Well, sir, if you aren't still with your attackers, there isn't anything we can do. Call if they attack you again."

WHAT!!!!?????

And all of this happened in the bright daylight of the afternoon with plenty of people around.

This is no less than the third attack I have witnessed from Black people upon other people in just the past 6 months, from group beatings, theft, and shooting rubber bullets at people's heads as they drove by. And all of this just on MY block!

The only violence I have ever seen imposed so freely and openly upon another person or persons has come from Black people upon other races, motivated by the racial difference.

Why is this happening?? Why is this so freely overlooked and dismissed? Why is it perpetuated and tolerated?

For instance, if any other person of any other racial origin had said similar racist things as what was said so freely at Coney Island, there would have been a riot. I cannot imagine saying (or THINKING, for that matter), that I "hate the smell of Black people" or shouting out to a Black person to "go back to Africa!" and being cheered on.

I seriously hope this is just a social pendulum swing effect that is the result of our (as in, "all people," not just White People) idiotic history of violence and racism toward Blacks and that we will eventually find a balance that is good and healthy for everyone. I really hope I live to see that.

Until then, how is the average, kind, evolved, socialized Black, Hispanic, White, Asian, etc. person supposed to deal with such entitled acts of hostility and violence? As a White person, my concerns and complaints are the fastest to be dismissed, as it is generally accepted that I either deserve the attacks just by the very fact of my skin color, or that I am exaggerating.

Acts of violence, whether fueled by Racism, or not, are awful for anyone. Acts of violence, whether physical or mental or verbal, are awful for anyone. Believe me, my skin color doesn't protect me, and attacking lil ole me, or a young, Hispanic couple minding their own business, isn't going to help heal our historically ignorant past...

...but it does keep all of us stuck there.

Sock It To Ya!

Something funny:

Today I am working from my laptop while at a cafe because I am waiting for my dog, Spyder, to get her hair all groomed up. We had to be at the groomer's by 8am! Yikes! Spyder and I stayed with Clem last night so we could play in the dog run near his apartment, which meant that I had some clothes with me in my giant back pack this morning.

Well, to make a long story short, I had to unexpectedly buy some woman a coffee this morning.

As I had been setting up at a table, pulling out my laptop, keeping my coffee balanced, finding a spot for my big back pack, I had also whipped out the power cord. I suddenly heard a woman's confused and startled voice burst out an, "OHhhhhh!" and then a, "OH my GOD!?"

I only wanted to glance with half-interest at whatever drama she was having, until I realized I was the cause of it.

As I had whipped out my power cord from my bag, flinging off of it, and sailing a short distance... was one of my dirty socks... right into her coffee! All I could do was share in her horror as I recoiled at the sight of a sock hanging from a venti coffee, slowly soaking up brownness. I didn't even respond appropriately, at first, because I have weird reactions to gross things, so my first reaction was to wince and scrunch up my face, looking away, then looking back, then looking away, as I tried to comprehend a SOCK hanging out of a coffee, let alone MY dirty sock!

I bought her a replacement coffee immediately and she gave me my sock back.

Then, we both laughed, and laughed...

Good Morning, New York City!!

Ps. For what it's worth, my dirty clothes hardly ever actually smell or look dirty (cuz I's so clean!) but still... it was a dirty sock.

An Angel on Ruskin

My Day has been made:


Elizabeth Fraser "sings" LIVE with "The Bathers" on Scottish Television!

(NOTE: be patient as it loads. REFRESH the page if it doesn't load right away)

(TIP: press pause until you see that at least half of the video is loaded, or completely loaded, then press play again)

If you have a hard time understanding Elizabeth, here are the lyrics to this song. She "sings" in an entirely unique way:

The Angel on Ruskin
Believe it or not there’s an angel on Ruskin
I saw her up there with my own green eyes
She danced alone among the chimneys
Her golden wings caught the evening sun

// ELIZABETH SINGS:
Hardly knew if I was still breathing
As I lost my way on the eastern stairs
She trashed my car she trashed my paintings
Oh As ribbons flew from her midnight hair //

I was always in love’s power
yes, yes, down in love’s power
down on my knees

All was lost and
All was broken
Brought to heel
Like an anxious guest
On the eastern stairs
I stole some token
I chased a kiss
On her golden crest

I was always down in love’s power
Yes yes, always down in love’s power
Down on my knees
You would fall
Should you look into her eyes

Believe it or not there’s an angel on Ruskin
I hear her laugh and I hear her sing
There’s evil abroad there’s a stranger on Ruskin
And memory lies like a girl on the wing

DIRECT LINK TO VIDEO
http://www.youtube.com/v/cbPhJPY1iKc

Insularity is not Hilarity

Well, in addition to all of the work I have to do to catch up, I also have to begin my serious interest in learning Spanish as my second language. I know a little French because of two years in high school, but I could hardly call it a second language. I've always wanted to learn a second language FLUENTLY, but I just never did. I'm sure that's familiar to many.

However, now my interest in learning a second language has moved from being an interest, to being a necessity. I am confronted at least twice a week with a situation where I cannot communicate to anyone around me, especially in my neighborhood. Over the years this situation has extended from a social level and into the service industry, and unless I know Spanish, I am unable to communicate to those who are offering the service.

I think it is specifically limited to more insular communities, such as parts of my neighborhood, and I've seen some of this in New Jersey, too. It's not limited to Spanish-speaking communities, because I also remember not being able to find anyone who spoke English in parts of Queens where Chinese is the primary language. I think it is the insularity that promotes this extended lack of ability to speak English, which I believe is just fine, but not in the service industry.

Just today, it took nearly 10 minutes for someone to be able to understand my order at a MACDONALD's. (Yes, I know, why am I at a MacDonald's in the first place, LOL!)No one around me spoke English, and none of the workers who were available spoke English. I was kept waiting while they searched to find someone to translate and speak English. This was the second time this has happened in this particular MacDonald's. Unless all I have to do is point at a number for my order, I cannot order what I want. The reason there was confusion is because there is a new promotion for the way MacDonald's offers their coffee. You are supposed to indicate whether you prefer "SMOOTH" or "BOLD," and if you want cream and/or sugar to be added. No one could understand what I was trying to order, even though it was high-profile promotion that prompts a response!

Little things go a long way in creating an insular community. Even the gross Taco Bell in my neighborhood has no promotional posters in English.

By the way: yes, I like fast food. Gross. But I do.

I think if I live in a primarily-hispanic/latin community, or a primarily-Asian community, I expect to see and hear a lot of Spanish, Chinese, Japanese, Korean, etc, and I want to learn to speak what I can, but I don't know if it's such a healthy thing for a community to move into such insularity that it cuts out the rest of your world.

This prompts me to want to learn other languages even more, because insularity on a small scale is one thing, but the United States is insular on a larger scale, and I don't want to contribute to that.

Electric Light Dorkestra II

Well, the electricians are "done." And take a look at what is meant by "done."

BELOW are the images showing how the electricians thought it was a great idea to remove ALL sockets from one side of the kitchen, but to put ONE behind the refridgerator. Of course, because the socket box is already huge, with something plugged into it, it is even more obtrusive, so now the refridgerator sticks out almost a FOOT from the wall. The only other sockets they left in the kitchen are next to the SINK, instead of above the large counter space!

SOCKET BEHIND THE REFRIDGERATOR


HUGE GAP BETWEEN WALL and BACK OF FRIDGE


FRIDGE USED TO BE NEARLY FLUSH WITH THE COUNTER


HOLE IN FLOOR that actually allows us to see the apartment BELOW us!