Preclude= To make impossible; prevent, exclude; debar.
Debar= To shut out.
Shut= To block, confine, stop, to keep from - entering.
Taboo= A ban attached to a social custom; sacred, inviolable nature.
Ban= Forbidden...
Thank you for taking the time to visit; enjoy the posts...
Taboos?
Preclude= To make impossible; prevent, exclude; debar.
Debar= To shut out.
Shut= To block, confine, stop, to keep from - entering.
Taboo= A ban attached to a social custom; sacred, inviolable nature.
Ban= Forbidden...
The Camera
The old camera sits on a shelf, along with all the other eclectic nik nacks: model trains, nut cracker, bells, candles, glass chess set and the like. At one time many of these things were very much a part of daily life and handled without thought. The old camera's outter paperings have crumbled away leaving it inoperable as a photographic tool and now only remains a prized family heirloom, an object of wonder among the others scattered about the home.
About a year ago I noticed something really strange about the camera. When you look into the view finder the images are upsidedown. But the strange thing I noticed was't that, but what appeared in the window. . .
Sounds crazy, so I opened it up and inspected all its working parts and was fasinated by the shutter, hinges, retractable hood, focusing dials and all. Then again when I looked through the viewfinder, expecting without question to adjust the upsidedown image of the fireplace across the room - knowing there was no actual film inwhich to record the moment - I almost droped it putting it down of the table with a start.
Thinking my eyes were tired and mind playing tricks I returned the camera to its shelfed place of honor dismissing its image as a trick of light and shadows, and haven't touched it since. A few weeks ago I got a digital camera for my birthday and have enjoyed its many modren features, compact size, and sharp images. Then one day I noticed the old camera and thought of how its usefulness was no longer needed. It suddenly took on the personality of an old friend who had been forgotten and disreguarded.
I picked up the old camera again and peered through it yellow clouded, and very tiny window and again was shocked by what I saw.
My wife's grandmother.
The tiny, yellowish, upsidedown image of a grandmother who had not only passed away years ago, but saw images as if rolling film footage from her childhood. On a farm with animals scuring about, and her parents motioning to something out of frame...
A cold hollow panic griped my mind - I've never looked into that camera again.
Out of a Dream. . .
In a flash my entire story played out - it came to me out of dream. Yet, over the years only bits and pieces revisit me, some brighter than others. I even once mapped out the entirity of that dreamworld. A thick, heavy paper, varnished with age and cracked with time. I put so much into that parchment's detail that it came alive. I was seventeen at the time. A thousand years later, and now the dream's faded into reality, the map long discarded, the memories blured. Inbetween forgotten and fobidden I strive to recapture it again in all its fasination, but find it dreadfully hard to compose the smoke. Only four chapters - unread by many, smiled at by a few, all of it needing to be rewriten before the rest even is told. Will my story ever write itself into completion? And who would even care?
S N O W E
My ancestors arrived in America in 1635 on the Susan and Ellen. Since then, in fourteen generations, not only did we never own slaves, but were among the poor working class of society. Pride has been earned through the hard work and personal preservance. I think that if most of us did our homework we would find that each of our families worked hard just to make life a littler easier for the next generation. What happened?
I mean, it seems like there is no pride, common sence, or respect any more these days. Don't think so? Haven't driven the freeway lately, humm. I'm proud to be an American, even though we have we're hated among nations, that's changed too. I think our hey day is over and our standing steadily decreasing in the world.
It's only a matter of time before the sleeping dragon of China awakes, and with the growth of Europe's United States, (which comparatively speaking Texas=France economey) we haven't a chance if they get their act together.
I see our future in a vastly different light than the glorious hopes of Star Trek. Unless there's a First Contact or divine intervention things look grim, our world is not healing and we're not helping. What to do, what to do.... hum, just taking care of me and mine isn't cutting it any more, and the governments and various religions haven't met the challenge -
Sorry, just felt the need to ramble on . . .
I Hear Your Weeping Butterflies
When the numbness of depression melts all emotions away
all I feel is the confused state of guilt that I should have stayed
caring, but needing more than what's been given I cry
not aloud for the world to scorn or uncaringly belie
but deep within, raging to silently scream for a resolution to come
not in suicide, but find an ending to regain my inner drum
silenced by situations that have run amok beyond my control
where truth has been turned aside and buried in a blackened hole
needing an escape I long to feel again the love once had
but those days have sliped away leaving my rut dull and drab;
yet, there lies hope -- ever a twisted thing played out upon my heart
dusted wings soaked in bitter tears unsoothed, melt in the dark
my resolution comes in the way I know best
its cost is heavily taxed with truth's acceptance at last.
MY LAST POST .
"THIS IS MY LAST POST"
No one ever comes here. I'm tired of not getting comments. I'm bored. This is useless. . .
When one of these thoughts comes across my mind, I ask myself, "Why did I start this venture for in the first place?" I started blogging for myself. My brother-friend, Tehuti began his over a year ago and tried to get me to join him. I had a web page - didn't we all? - but after awhile I realized the blogging format lent itself a little more to my liking. Sure, if you're bored or burnt out and feeling not heard, stop using bandspace, others could use it.
One of the things I enjoy doing from time to time is hitting the NEXT BLOG button, spin the wheel. . . Whenever I surf to a site with either a catchy title, artwork, graphics, text/ fonts style, subject - whatever reason - something I like; I leave a comment, bookmark it on my favorites list, go back a few days later and leave another comment. Not trying to spam people, just encouraging them as I would like to be encouraged. And yeah maybe even point out that if ya "click" my name blah blah blah. . .
Whenever comments are made on my sites I added them to a NOTED VISITORS listing. There's just something neat about seeing yourself "up on the list!"
Nah, I think I'll stay around for awhile, I might have more silliness to share. Thank you all for your comments, and keep Blogging out there - if you don't, then Start!
Morgan Hawke's Advice...
2005.jpg)
I was really looking foreward to going back to college this fall semester; however, it appears that that may not be possible. Some difficulties arose with my car. Having it as my sole means of transpertation for a 45 min daily comute is a must. So, I thought I would use the same schedule that I would have used for attending classes, in paying closer attention to polishing up my writing skills.
Tookong gave me some old back issuses of Writer's Digest, which have some wonderful information. Various college English/Literature textbooks, and web site resources will be keeping me busy creating my own Creative Writing course at home, til I'm ready for the Spring Classes.
Sooo, I may not be here very often. FORBIDDEN needs to get writen and out of my head. For six years now the ideas have swarmed about, and for twenty years not gone away.
"Beam me up, Scotty!"
My eyes teared at the thought of losing an old friend, for indeed James Doohan and all the rest were as friends to me, my friends, and all who came to be inspired by the univeral hopes they extended to us all in the vision of Star Trek. Instead of a doom and gloom filled future Star Trek envisioned a world where we would all be players of a better society. Where various races would be treated as one "humanity."
May the rewards of Mr. Doohan be granted, for his light burned brightly upon so many...
Times a chang'en
My grandfather, (his sister and two aunts) use to have to walk miles to school, and from the looks of this picture their rustic clothing seems far from a romantic time period.
Myself, I had to school a few miles from my home, rode my bike or occasionaly got a ride, but nothing like this picture. Interesting to see what my grandchild will think of our time. . .
Dream Dictionary
1. One third of our lives is spent sleeping.
9. The word dream stems from the Middle English word, dreme which means "joy" and "music".
10. Men tend to dream more about other men, while women dream equally about men and women.
14. People who are giving up smoking have longer and more intense dreams.
VIVID Dreamer...
I know we all dream, every night. Seldom am I awakened by some plesant sexual fantasies hovering at dawn's early break. Usually when I dream - or am awakened by the ones I remember - they are vividly real. Techni color, surround sound, wakingly real. I dream in HD-IMAX reality; when I remember them, sometimes it's difficult to realize when I've been shaken awake. Sweating, crying or screaming in a start.
Writing this a 4:30 am because I can't sleep, and the dogs doing their morning thing of needing out...
I had a dream. A real one. But - with this, for some strange reason, I was very cogntive I was dreaming, and the emotional waves were stayed.
IN MY DREAM:
I was at my mother's funeral, sort of. She was there, sitting on the front pew nicely dressed comforting me. Reasuring me that it was alright that I had not been able to attend, for she had in fact passed away a few years earlier. Suddenly no longer in the quiet sureen funeral home I was sitting beside her as she foamed at the mouth in convulsions beneath an oxegen tent fed with many tubes, wires, and monitors among a chaotic hospital setting. The scence became very graphic, like something out of ER mixed with Alien - mind you, it's a dream?
Then my mother-in-law wakes me up with a fresh brewed cup of coffee, smiling that she's fine, and to let my wife know that our grandbaby is "the cutest thing in the world." Betty passed away in 1989. Then I 'really' woke up to the dog barking at the light in the bathroom? Weird critter...
I believe in the physco babble that our dreams are our conscience way of reordering our thoughts and feeling into a symbolic manner for dealing with internal stresses. I am not a violent person, nor do I tend to watch all the gorey movies, or games yet my dreams are vividly bloody and emotionally charged. But this one wasn't. In trying to write my dream down it was rather like grasping at smoke before it faded, difficult and nothing as emotionally distrubing as the nightmare itself. All of this I am kneely aware of and very use too, what bothered me about this one was - it didn't bother me.
I am secure in my feelings of an afterlife - whatever happens will happen; no amount of knocking on doors selling books, no amount of money in the offering plate, pleading for Jesus to Save me, no matter how many baptismal pools you arise from, no matter how many times you pray a day or which way you face, you can never out give or out do or make a Deity do whatever it is you hope to gain in their glorious realm. So, I am content with just living in the here and now building whatever Karma my experience wheels for me. My only fear is in growing so aged that I become a febled, pain rideden burden on others and hated in the end and remember for that instead of for who I am striving to become now.
Dreams are a fasinating thing to me, bloody and vividly real as mine are, I now its just a thing - like so many, its to be experienced, placed in context and move on. . .
Writing this a 4:30 am because I can't sleep, and the dogs doing their morning thing of needing out...
I had a dream. A real one. But - with this, for some strange reason, I was very cogntive I was dreaming, and the emotional waves were stayed.
IN MY DREAM:
I was at my mother's funeral, sort of. She was there, sitting on the front pew nicely dressed comforting me. Reasuring me that it was alright that I had not been able to attend, for she had in fact passed away a few years earlier. Suddenly no longer in the quiet sureen funeral home I was sitting beside her as she foamed at the mouth in convulsions beneath an oxegen tent fed with many tubes, wires, and monitors among a chaotic hospital setting. The scence became very graphic, like something out of ER mixed with Alien - mind you, it's a dream?
Then my mother-in-law wakes me up with a fresh brewed cup of coffee, smiling that she's fine, and to let my wife know that our grandbaby is "the cutest thing in the world." Betty passed away in 1989. Then I 'really' woke up to the dog barking at the light in the bathroom? Weird critter...
I believe in the physco babble that our dreams are our conscience way of reordering our thoughts and feeling into a symbolic manner for dealing with internal stresses. I am not a violent person, nor do I tend to watch all the gorey movies, or games yet my dreams are vividly bloody and emotionally charged. But this one wasn't. In trying to write my dream down it was rather like grasping at smoke before it faded, difficult and nothing as emotionally distrubing as the nightmare itself. All of this I am kneely aware of and very use too, what bothered me about this one was - it didn't bother me.
I am secure in my feelings of an afterlife - whatever happens will happen; no amount of knocking on doors selling books, no amount of money in the offering plate, pleading for Jesus to Save me, no matter how many baptismal pools you arise from, no matter how many times you pray a day or which way you face, you can never out give or out do or make a Deity do whatever it is you hope to gain in their glorious realm. So, I am content with just living in the here and now building whatever Karma my experience wheels for me. My only fear is in growing so aged that I become a febled, pain rideden burden on others and hated in the end and remember for that instead of for who I am striving to become now.
Dreams are a fasinating thing to me, bloody and vividly real as mine are, I now its just a thing - like so many, its to be experienced, placed in context and move on. . .
NOISE.jpg)
Here fishy fishy. . .
Yesterday was my birthday. I cherish my seclusion, for I have that hermit personality; however, it's always a joy when the kids - (Gesssh! am I that old now?), come over. Alice gave me a great little digital camera - pictures coming soon. Lizabeth, my daughter and James her fiance, gave me a fish aquarium which was a nice surprise.
Years ago I use to have a 55gal freshwater aquarium and due to moving about we felt we had to give it up, so having fish again - even a 10 gal. is a nice feeling. I love getting lost in watching them swim about. Wondering what their little brains are conjuring up, as they staire at the giagantic aliens just outside their glassed universe. I do have a Saltwater Screensaver, but nah - it's not quiet the same, though there is less work involved.
I live a quiet life and the greatest joy I have is spending time with my faimly, and the few friends I have who've ventured by our nest. I am deeply grateful for those I have, the ancient ones and the ones newly grafted.
THE @ MAN
You've heard the rumors for years.
You read the comics, and shared the novels.
COMING SOON is Now Here!
Clicking a mouse near you -
A Tie-Dyed Tehuti film
Changing the Title: "Forbidden"
Striving for a more arousing title, I am offically renaming my story:
Back Then. . .
Before the long hair, tatoos, and laid-back attitude I've developed, I was once in the Military. Just before the 'Gulf War' Desert Storm broke out, many could have sworn a draft was on its way and World War III wasn't too far behind. So I decided to join the military on my own terms and do something I was already doing - the ministry. As a civilian I was a Layminister in the Southern Baptist Convention, in the Army Texas National Guard I was a Chaplain's Assistant,(MOS 71M).
I did Basic Training at Fort Sill, OK, AIT at Frort Monmouth, NJ, and my duty station was state side at the Corpus Christi National Guard HQ Armory. From 1990-98 this was my hairstyle, and attitude. My two year IRR (Individual Ready Reserve), and finally ETS (End Time in Service) came in '98 when I embraced everything that was just the oppisite.
My military experience was one of those many phases which I will always look back on with the fondness of no longer being there. Everyday was hitting the ground at a run, not really living in the moment because it wasn't yours. The 'friends' made were individuals I would have gladly died for and with; yet, over the years contact has faded and life's gone on. I am sure I have many more experiences yet to endure which will be just as fondly remembered.
Each new experience we face in life can be made more endurable, when we view them as lessons, preparing us for something bigger to come. I never, in a billion years, ever thought then I would ever be photoshoping and blogging of those experiences; I wonder what life holds ten years from now.
The End of the World Cometh. . .
A friend shared with me one of the most fasinating Blogs that I have stumbled onto in quiet awhile. Like the original radio broadcast of War of the Worlds, where late listeners believed the show to be real; this Blog has become interactive. The chaos of Zombies are reported in by YOU; each comment reflects how the Zombies are effecting your area of the country. The story is woven by your skills.
Check it out... If you dare! Hahahahah. . . . . .
From the Rabbit Hole...
Here are a few of the Ancient and Wise sayings, from the Great TooKong himself:
At the top of the spiral staircase stands a glass moose whose only wish is to live in a world without hail.
I tried to flush the head of a carp down the toilet and now it's stopped up.
Ladybugs paint their shells with blood before going into battle.
I set the cube down, added water, and moments later I was staring at my very own African rhino.
The jars in the cellar are filled with snail's shells and corn husks to get us through the long winter.
Savannah Alise Garza-Snow
This is my georgeous little grand-daughter, laughing at her father's playful cooings. She's really had a profound effect on my daughter, Elizabeth; she's shown more maturity and growth since Savannah's arrival than any other time I've noticed in her entire life. She loves her so much; added to that is the love she has for James. They shared with us yesterday, that come October 31, 2005 they'll seal it with marriage vows. Interestingly enough, by the same minister who married my wife and I, my brother-in-law.
Micah's first cut. . .
We took our toy poodle puppy, Micah, to Pet's Mart yesterday for his first offical adult haircut. Still, at only six weeks old he's very much the energetic pup. Alice's little bunddle of pride and joy; okay, second to her granddaughter - Savannah. Actually, he's very intelligent, and learning new things daily, very intuitive of our feelings. I guess that's why we've stayed with the bred; also he reminds of sooo much of our beloved April.
My Dreamworks Cafe
This is the place where all these crazy Blogs come from, my little domain. Where in my upstairs study, action figures from Lord of the Rings play out their characters, above a littered desk, near an overcrowed booksheft. I feel most at home right here. To me THIS is life. Being in your own private comfort zone - nestled at home; far away from honking traffic speeding by, workplace drama, and a mad world outside. Give me a day off anytime!
Good Morning. . .
Warped around my mind
are the thoughts of a dark dream
awakened way too early to find
myself heading for coffe and cream
wrigglings pup needing outside
while the dream fades in my head
overcast skies remind me I'm alive
returning within but not to bed
for the ritual of the computer screen
calls me to surf the usual sites
ejoying the sips of java's steam
my queer mundane delight.
New Teeth
Two men were talking one day.
"Hey, I just got my new dentures in, and boy were they expensive -$900.00!'
"Really? Mine only cost Ten bucks."
"Where?"
"Down at the Undertakers. They had a barrel full. Only thing is, I had to try on four pairs 'fore I found some that fit."
Gerrrrrrrrrrrross - LOL
"Hey, I just got my new dentures in, and boy were they expensive -$900.00!'
"Really? Mine only cost Ten bucks."
"Where?"
"Down at the Undertakers. They had a barrel full. Only thing is, I had to try on four pairs 'fore I found some that fit."
Gerrrrrrrrrrrross - LOL
Just Because. . .
One year, after a delicious Thanksgiving meal, a man told his wife that he really enjoy the Ham, but wondered why it was that she always cut the ends off.
She had remarked that that was the way her mother had always prepared hers.
After some thought, she called her mother, only to find out that her mother, in turn always cut the ends off her Thanksgiving Ham, as well.
The woman, still preplexed called her grandmother, who replied,"Oh dear, I do that so it will fit into the pan, mine are so small..."
Isn't it funny, how so many times in our lives we do things out of rote tradition, never giving a second thought to why. "Well, just because." Like most of you, I was never quiet satisfied with that answer either.
My dad always said,"Boy, if you don't ask questions then you'll never learn." Since then, I've often wondered just how many times I've actually gone through life cuting the ends off Ham, without questioning...
She had remarked that that was the way her mother had always prepared hers.
After some thought, she called her mother, only to find out that her mother, in turn always cut the ends off her Thanksgiving Ham, as well.
The woman, still preplexed called her grandmother, who replied,"Oh dear, I do that so it will fit into the pan, mine are so small..."
Isn't it funny, how so many times in our lives we do things out of rote tradition, never giving a second thought to why. "Well, just because." Like most of you, I was never quiet satisfied with that answer either.
My dad always said,"Boy, if you don't ask questions then you'll never learn." Since then, I've often wondered just how many times I've actually gone through life cuting the ends off Ham, without questioning...
CENSORSHIP!!!! Humm...
I work for the State of Texas, in a Direct Care Institution for the Disabled; thank the Goddess for the open minds there. I came across an interesting article from MSN, By Kate Lorenz, which might be of interest to most of you, and hopefully none of you have experienced:
Kate Lorenz is the article and advice editor for CareerBuilder.com. She researches and writes about job search strategy, career management, hiring trends and workplace issues.
"Whatever bloggers are writing about work, employers don't like it. Employees have reportedly been fired for blogging at a number of companies, including Starbucks, Delta, Wells Fargo, Friendster and Kmart.
In a January 2005 survey by the Society for Human Resource Management (SHRM), only 3 percent of human resource professionals report disciplining an employee for blogging and none reported dismissing an employee for such behavior. Despite this, ejected bloggers stand by their claims."
1. Know where your company stands.
2. Blog on your own time.
3. Practice safe blogs.
4. Don't hide it from your boss.
5. Use good judgment.
6. Others will disagree with you.
Wow! So, let me get this straight. . . you can upload all the porn you want, curse till the F**king cows come home, show graphic videos of beheadings, BUT FOR GOD's SAKE PEOPLE Do Not talk ill of your Boss!
Aint that some crazy shit!
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