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My fourth blog. Amazing yet disconcerting. Don't worry; this'll go away in a year or so. |
'Sup y'all? Happy Friday, if it's still Friday where you're at! Today's prompt responses, while not exactly dovetailing nicely into one another, actually manage to cover a trifecta (some gambling lingo, used in this case because I know you're not betting illegally on anything I might have to say ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() Fist off, for the "30 Day Image Prompt Contest - CLOSED" ![]() Do we know what it's like to touch the hand of God? None of us in this lifetime will know it, because if you're a believer you're preparing to meet your deity in what's known as "the afterlife". We may say we have experienced this in a metaphorical sense, like through the eyes of a child or having just enough money at the end of the month for Taco Tuesday, but physically? It's an impossibility. I don't care what your Sunday School class taught you (full disclosure: mine taught me Jesus doesn't come down and smite you for lying to a priest...so there's my frame of reference in regards to Catholicism). You may try to get through your days on this planet by being a good person and helping others in need, thinking that'll get you out of heaven's lawn seats and into the VIP section, if that's your thing. Cool, whatever. I don't need a book to tell me I should always do unto others yadda yadda yadda, but that's just me. I'm not judging anyone's beliefs. But you have to be careful, no matter what your religion. Sometimes the person you want to help up is trying to pull you down. And maybe the person giving you a hand isn't doing it for your benefit. That motherfucker telling you six days a week that he goes to church on Sunday and you're terrible if you don't could very well in fact be the devil himself...maybe he cheats on his wife or his taxes, or kicks puppies, or takes a few extra gulps from the holy chalice in the house of his own dear lord. You don't know. I've had enough experiences with different religions to know that at best I'm skeptical of many of them. I'm almost 40; most of my opinions on many topics have already been solidified...it's not that I'm not open-minded, because I am. Religion is just one of those things that I have a no-compromise clause with in my belief system. What's really important though is seeing the whole picture, and not just what others want you to see. If we zoom this image back out to its original form, this is what we're looking at: ![]() ![]() No thanks, higher power. I think life is something I'm better suited to be handling on my own, because I'm pretty sure if I were to start walking with a homogenized icon of this nature, what you see directly above is very likely to be the result of me passing through the pearly gates (even if my ticket has already been punched for the festival in the opposite direction). ![]() Y'all know I'm from the northeast, right? Great Lakes, Buffalo NY, City Of Good Neighbors? And what do you know about that (don't say New York City, tryna act like you know when in reality they're at opposite ends of the state)? It snows. A lot. We don't get very many natural disasters. We get blizzards. Best know that once you're in the 716 between October and April you run the risk of Lake Erie blowin' shit-tons of snow on you at any given time. When you pulled up stakes lookin' for that sweet, sweet Buffalove, you did so with the understanding that you might need all six layers or more of clothing and a shovel. And maybe a damn good and reliable plowing service. And that's what makes us the tough, resilient people that we are. It's why athletes from around the country move their families here after they've retired from playing for the Bills or the Sabres. When you tell people you're from Buffalo, their expectations of you change...they've heard what our winters have conditioned us for. If there's one thing anyone growing up in WNY has learned from their grandmothers, it's that the minute the weather forecast calls for more than six inches of snow you immediately run to the store and buy up all the milk, bread, and toilet paper you can. You think I'm jokin'? Nope. It happens at least once or twice a season, and if you're that guy who waited until after the plows have made the streets passable, you'll likely be shit outta luck. Most importantly however, in times of severe weather crises, we live by the words of a long-time mayor, the late Jimmy Griffin ![]() ![]() If you're asking me if I would have thrown a tomato at a bad performance...the short-form answer is "No, I'm too respectful for that." Stop laughing; it's true! I've seen some shitty bands, watched stupid tv shows and movies, and sat through open mic nights consisting of mechanics and doctors who thought they were amateur comedians...not once have I had the urge to hurl rotten vegetables at them. I don't even like booing people. They put their pride aside in an effort to provide entertainment. That's a huge deal for some people; who am I to discourage them from something they may have a passion, but not necessarily the talent, for? But what I do do is vote with my wallet. If I don't like a band, I don't go to their next show...but if I have a good time and I'm into the music, I'll buy a cd or a t-shirt (especially if they're a local band), and I'll probably be inclined to stay longer at the venue, which means I'm buying more drinks. If a comic or a group of comics isn't funny, I won't go back; if they are, I'll invite more people to check them out the next time they're on stage. It's all about word of mouth. It doesn't take much to be like "I'm not interested" or "I can't make it", but it says a lot if you're always showing up for gigs and bringing friends along. Basically, I wouldn't like it if some dude who could barely put two sentences together got all up on me on Facebook or Twitter with the whole "Your blog sucks, ya pansy...go write a poem about it!" routine, so I have no business telling a musician he should stick to bartending. The world's full enough of message board heroes who think that because they have internet access and an opinion everyone should care what they think (I know that's essentially what I'm doing with a blog, but you know what I'm tryna say). ![]() ![]() You hear it often when a famous entertainer dies an undignified death, and unfortunately it seems to be the only time really, but the funniest people tend to be the ones with the most sadness inside. They're often the most inspiring and creative types, and that energy gets channeled into brilliant careers...but just like you can't really know what drives a person to wanting to leave the world so soon, you also aren't privy to the destruction inside or around them that can sometimes serve as the genesis of their work. All we see is the output, often without stopping to comprehend their madness, demons, or personal tragedies. As much as we tend to think of celebrities as selfish and fame whores, maybe it's us who expect too much from them in relation to our own well-being. Everyone's human. "It's too close to home, and it's too near the bone... more than you'll ever know." Lyrics and interpretations. ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() Well, that's another Friday in the books for me. I'll be spending the rest of the night reading "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" ![]() |