It's infinitely amazing to me how our souls are like prisms that filter the light of the world and project powerful tapestries of colors that do more than just describe who we are through a revelation of intricate hues. Our colors, indicative of our true identities, also harness unfathomable quantities of potential energy that can propel planets or even ignite entire galaxies into existence.
My father used to always say that every person you meet potentially carries various nuggets of knowledge and/or experience from which you can draw to dramatically improve your life. Sort of like if you were a jigsaw puzzle, and as time passed you continued to add pieces to your puzzle. You would also collect pieces that maybe wouldn't fit your current puzzle's configuration, but might be the right pieces for people whom you come across in life, (arguably by design) and who could conversely possess pieces to which would fit yours.
Personally, one of the most fascinating things I find in life are the unique experiences we share with other people. These interactions can be as short as an exchange on a train, or a manifestation of an eternal bond. In either case, these experiences imprint an indelible mark in our memories that serve a multitude of possibilities, the greatest two of which is learning and providing. Whether we learn about ourselves, other people, a song, a book, or the meaning of a word, with every encounter with another person lies the possibility of discovery, or contribution.
Being as gregarious as I am, I've always enjoyed meeting new people. However, in my youth, too much emphasis was placed on embracing these experiences and not enough was placed on cultivating existing ones. With the passing of time and the expansion of family, I have a greater appreciation for the things that truly matter in life and am trying to put more effort into developing current relationships. However, I've never quite lost the fascination with meeting new people and discovering what they might have to offer. I truly believe that the people we meet represent an important facet of our lives and although they may not always provide necessary puzzle pieces, it doesn't mean they can't influence the colors of your puzzle, or even change the very image your canvas portrays.
The tales, rants, and reviews of a ghost writer on a quest of self-discovery.
Monday, June 8, 2009
Thursday, June 4, 2009
Painted Black
More poetic dribble . . . .
PAINTED BLACK
A glance, a tilt, no softer wish.
I watch you paint it black,
I yearn to be that mystic fish,
Swimming -in your sea of black.
No idle stares nor summer cloth,
Deserve your heart’s attack.
Like sultry flames that seduce the moth,
You stare at mine, I stare right back.
A thousand skies of wasted hue,
Where rainbows never lack.
Your beauty ignites the phoenix new,
Our worlds collide, we fade to black
Lips of velvet kiss the door,
Where once there laid a crack.
Desire melts us to midnight’s floor,
Where I watch you paint me black.
by Brown
PAINTED BLACK
A glance, a tilt, no softer wish.
I watch you paint it black,
I yearn to be that mystic fish,
Swimming -in your sea of black.
No idle stares nor summer cloth,
Deserve your heart’s attack.
Like sultry flames that seduce the moth,
You stare at mine, I stare right back.
A thousand skies of wasted hue,
Where rainbows never lack.
Your beauty ignites the phoenix new,
Our worlds collide, we fade to black
Lips of velvet kiss the door,
Where once there laid a crack.
Desire melts us to midnight’s floor,
Where I watch you paint me black.
by Brown
Monday, June 1, 2009
I Lost a World Today
Thought I'd share a poem I wrote a few days ago. . . for those of you still reading this dribble anyway. . . .
I Lost A World Today
I lost a world just today,
Has anybody seen?
It shone before -but no more,
No longer bright and sheen.
Upon its lips one winter kiss,
And one from shifting sands.
Upon its heart an Atlas weight,
Too bearing for my hands.
I lost a world just today,
Or perhaps I didn’t know.
Dreams do not belong to men,
Nor warmth for falling snow.
by Brown
I Lost A World Today
I lost a world just today,
Has anybody seen?
It shone before -but no more,
No longer bright and sheen.
Upon its lips one winter kiss,
And one from shifting sands.
Upon its heart an Atlas weight,
Too bearing for my hands.
I lost a world just today,
Or perhaps I didn’t know.
Dreams do not belong to men,
Nor warmth for falling snow.
by Brown
Saturday, April 25, 2009
Untraceable
As many of you now know I have a plethora of women in my family and although they went to great lengths to teach me the ways of the samurai, they went to even greater ones to hide the fact that women poop. As a matter of fact, although privy to every other female secret, I had been brainwashed to believe that they also never ever fart. Ever. I didn't discover that women pass gas until well into my adult years.
However, when I reflect back upon all those years that I had been deceived, I cannot for the life of me figure out exactly how they managed to keep this fact so expertly hidden. That is, of course, until now. Sorry ladies. . . . .
Saturday, April 18, 2009
The Punisher
So, a third movie was made about the Marvel Comic book character, the Punisher, and let me tell you . . . .testicle pulling torture more adequately describes having to watch this cinematic pile of cow dung than anything else. This movie instantly became one of the top 3 worst movies of all time. It had every action movie cliche' and made movies like DareDevil and Electra look like Academy Award Winners.I knew this movie was going to be bad during the first action sequence (okay, well before that even). The Punisher enters a mansion where a mob family is meeting and a blood bath ensues. After killing every mobster in the room, he climbs atop a chandelier, drapes his legs over, and while hanging upside down (and spinning), draws two weapons and proceeds to terminate all the mindless bodyguards who subsequently enter the room. How he even got the thing to spin in the first place is a mystery, but not nearly as enigmatic as how accurately he shot every bad guy while upside down, whilst performing a trapeze stunt. Circ de soleil apparently has nothing on the Punisher.
The movie just got progressively worse with facially deformed mobsters giving themselves sobriquets such as Jigsaw and springing relatives from local mental institutions to assist in creating mayhem and ultimately bringing down the mob killing protagonist. Seinfeld's nemesis Norm, (ever wonder what happened to him?) played the weapons supplier to this unbelievable vigilante and seemed to be his only friend. (if you can call him that) The movie was devoid of any real characterization, and attempts to insert comic relief would have been more successful had they used mimes and banana peels. Everyone from the writer to the editor should be cryogenically frozen and sent into outer space for creating this film making masterpiece of vomit inducing excrement.
Everything in this movie was predictable, from the plot to the script. One of the most offensive things about this film was the painfully exaggerated gore. The Punisher literally punched a guy's face in and nearly everyone he shot either lost a limb or half of his face. At one point in the movie, he even resets his broken nose with a pencil. That's right, not the old fashion, "Let me wiggle this thing back into place" move; oh no, that would be too easy. I need to shove a pencil halfway to my brain and perform a violent, caveman rhinoplasty without so much as a grimace or a drop of blood.
Save yourselves the punishment and skip over this piece of shit when you're perusing the shelves of your local video store. I sure would have, had the movie I originally wanted had been in stock. Oh well, another one of life's little ironies I suppose. Where the hell is Dolph Lundgren when you need him? I'm just sayin'.
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Field of Dreams
Oftentimes, the best lessons in life we learn without even knowing it. Mr. Miyagi began teaching Daniel Karate by making him wax his cars, paint his house and fence, and sand the floors. Similarly, my Father taught me some of life's most valuable lessons by teaching me how to play baseball.
My Dad taught me how to properly oil and shape a new baseball glove; carefully and meticulously working the oil into the new leather, forming a perfect pocket for the ball. Many hours were devoted to punching my fist into the cradles of new gloves to ensure the perfect feel and wear. Life is eerily similar. If you work hard enough at something, life can bend to your will. I learned that the most rewarding things in life need to time to be cultivated.
He showed me how to wait for the perfect pitch, how to hit curveballs, throw a sinker, and 3 different types of fastballs. He showed me how to cut off a throw from the outfield, cover a base, sacrifice bunt, and steal bases. He also stressed that you don't always have to try and smash the ball, just make contact. You'd be surprised how far it goes when you just make contact with the sweet spot of a bat.
Timing is everything. Sometimes showing restraint in the present will produce the perfect set of circumstances in the future. Life inevitably throws you curveballs, I know how to wait them out. Life comes with its hitting slumps, I know how to keep swinging through them. When one strategy isn't working, have two other fastballs you can throw. There are moments when you have to step in and take over a situation, cover your buddy's back, sacrifice yourself for others, or take a risk. When I'm trying too hard to make something work, I know that sometimes just the right amount of effort or finesse, will garner the desired results, often exceeding expectations.
I remember my Dad liked to say that there will ALWAYS be somebody faster, stronger, and better than you. You have to work harder, work smarter, and although you might not always beat him, eventually you will. I learned that I didn't like losing, but that it's very much a part of life, and the smart ones learn from it.
He instilled discipline, work ethic, commitment, and courage. Being the coach's son, I was the first to arrive and the last to leave. I learned the value and responsibility of working hard to hone skills. It takes courage to stand in front of an 85 mph fastball. I learned that occasionally you get hit, and although it's painful, you can capitalize on misfortune. Life too can sting, but you have to dust yourself off and get back in the batter's box no matter what. And sometimes, you have to take one for the team.
From watching my Dad trek across the baseball diamond to argue a call with an umpire, I learned that you have to stand up for justice, fairness, and equality. I learned that there are times you have to question authority/government and that you have a voice. If nothing else, every time he got in an umpire's face, it demonstrated the quintessential example of commitment and loyalty. In life you have to be fully committed to your cause, your family, and what you believe in, others will loyally follow.
He conditioned me to be coachable. I remember he would also say that everyone you come in contact with in your life, potentially has knowledge or insight that could be useful and applicable to your situation. Different people have different vantage points, experiences, skill sets, and knowledge. Stay open minded, listen to what they have to say, consider their experiences and learn from them.
We played catch, pepper, hit batting practice, caught fly balls, and threw countless pitches. It still baffles me to this day, how after all of that, he was simultaneously molding my character and preparing me for life. I had to work hard at some things, while others just came naturally. As I get older and reflect upon these memories with greater frequency, I begin to understand the importance of the bond between Father and Son, and more importantly, how monumentally significant even the most trivial of activities spent with your Father can influence and shape your life.
I'll leave you with lyrics from a Kenny Rogers song that my Dad sent me one day. I think they sum things up rather well. You got to know when to hold em, know when to fold em, Know when to walk away and know when to run. You never count your money when you're sittin at the table. There'll be time enough for countin when the dealins done.
Monday, March 30, 2009
The Reader
I have discovered the Holy Grail! Okay, well, not like the actual cup of Christ with life saving capabilities and all, but more like the next best thing. For those of us that like to read or watch movies anyway. And I didn't exactly discover it really, my sister Cris more or less sat me in front of her computer and showed me the awesome amazingness that is Swaptree.com. I'm sure for all of you reading this, because we're related, is probably old news. However, for the remote possibility that someone I'm not related to should happen upon this blog and doesn't know about this gem of euphoric reading fantasticness (it's a word a swear), I shall give you the 411 as they say. (I'm not sure who says this shit anymore, but it seemed fitting.)


So, this website, as I was saying, is fantastical awesomeness. It allows you to swap Books, CD's, DVD's, video games, and babies (I had a cute little African baby I wanted, but Madonna beat me to it). When you are finished with books or movies you don't want anymore, you can put them in a queue as stuff to be traded, in exchange for things you want. Both your wish list, and tradeables can be comprised of all the aforementioned things, except for babies (but I think stem cells are okay). The website, powered by magic and scientifically enhanced hummingbirds, matches and pairs you up with other random people who have books you want, and vice-versa. All you need to do, is either accept or decline offers from these gate keepers of stupendousness, that have nothing better else to do than hoard all the shit you've ever wanted. Sometimes, you can be involved in a 3 or 4 person trade . . . . like an orgy! See? I told you it was awesome.
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