Archived Writing

VICTORIA, VA.  Police today are tracking a man wanted on assault charges. Philip L. Ozlin, of Lunenburg County, is the alleged perpetrator against an anonymous victim. According to sources, Mr. Ozlin apparently inflicted damage upon the victim's 20 oz. container of Mountain Dew soda pop. The victim claims that Ozlin began with a string of verbal taunts; when no retaliation ensued, the alleged assailant made things physical, thrusting his "ball sac" with extreme force and "extreme prejudice" against the five-point base of the Dew bottle. Further verbal abuses, followed by two subsequent thrusts to the bottle ended the affair. Witnesses saw Ozlin fleeing the scene, hunched over and looking, as one put it "guiltier than OJ." Local authorities are asking for the community's help in locating Mr. Ozlin before further harm can be done to the county at large.

Birds are fat patrons

Though slow to pay their bar tab

And still we serve them.

Happiness like rain

Falls most when we don't need it,

Though still we drink deep.

Death is sad; indeed,

It causes the grown and old

To weep as children.

Spongebob's Uphill Climb

Spongebob (shrilly, with concern) Yes doctor?

(pauses while listening to telephone)

C-c-c-cancer? Of the p-p-pores? ("pores" in an impossible, shrieky soprano and with bulged eyes. follow with pause for listening)

But, I feel just fine. And I'm so young (emphasis).(pause for listening)

Well, barnacles (emphasize "barn")! Alright, alright, but I  have one more question...

(exaggerated pause as Spongebob waits for doctor's "yes")

Will I have to see a sturgeon (emphasis on sturgeon, as a punchline)?

(fade)

Permeating clouded boughs of darkest sky,

Whitest light beams as silvery lining throughout the gloom:

A glistening spider's web in a lifeless, shineless room:

Vitality, in the midst of imposing scenery.

I recently visited my brother Daniel's website, which is essentially a web log in itself.

While there, I read a very interesting article concerning his need to defend his intelligence in an online forum.

I, too, often have trouble pulling in the reigns on my purebreds (I am not referring to my reproductive glands, though I face equal or greater opposition when attempting to limit them), perhaps because the online system allows anonymity and that extra couple of seconds for gathering of thought.

My experience in online "chats" or "forums" is limited to two: the guitarist section of the Dream Theater message board, and the Carvin Musical Instruments message board.

It would seem that I almost seek out ignorance on these boards, be it in regards to guitar parts, physics (stop laughing, Dan), or even musical/guitar terminology. I am incapable of recalling the number of instances in which I have told some musically ignorant guitarist that legato does not mean hammering on or pulling off (for you non-guitarists, those are ways of articulating notes on the guitar) and that slurred passages can be played with pick strokes.

The sad thing is that I, the supposedly superior being (consider "supposedly" a disclaimer; I am, in fact, superior) feel the need to derail a conversation in defense of nomenclature while the lesser man (with the exception of one instance) gracefully accepts my criticism without returning a single effyew.

At 2, at 12, and at 22: I have some twisted desire to use my knowledge as a tool of belittlement. I establish my credentials by authoritative  presentation and provable correctness.

The worst of it is that I am still nothing more than a mere human in God's world. I am as a mule who's kick is unrivaled. I can subdue my fellow beasts by way of my prowess, but next to other beings I am merely an ass.

What is man, that he should be pure,
or one born of woman, that he should be righteous?

May I step down, that I might be risen much the higher.

Across a crowded room, he dines

On deviled ham. The wretched swine

Rejects the nudge of wisdom's wise

Advice regarding hearts; he dies

A bitter death with sweetest taste.

It would seem that I'm sitting in a university library with nothing to do, so I am forced by magnitude of boredom to further contribute to my web log (I will not call it a blog, not yet).

If you think of one worldly thing that you wish to posess above all other trifles, what do you come up with? I'll give you a moment.

Alright, have you thought of something? Whatever it is, I can doubt with extreme confidence (and extreme prejudice) that it's better than mine.

Above all things earthly, I would like to see the face of my son, beautiful little Donovan Patrick. I already know that he is lovely as well as small; yet, I still long to gaze on his splendor and cradle his tininess in my arms.

In addition to the superiority of my wish, I have the benefit of expecting its fulfillment in a matter of short months. I can expect to see the picture of my youth reborn, and the opinions of doctors, nurses, and sonogram technicians reinforce my expectations.

Perhaps this known fulfillment is one of the things that makes my wish that much more spectacular. In spite of the fact that I already have Donovan, in spite of the fact that my seeing him and holding him are 99.999% givens, I would still rather see his face than get out of debt. I would rather kiss him than be finished with my degree. I would rather rock him gently in the refuge of my arms than have a car that functions well all of the time. Donovan is my preference, regardless of what is stacked against him.

I guess this is what it feels like to be a father: to love the best of  you enough to give him your best.