by the time i finish this blog post, christmas will be over
Thanks, Rockford, IL, you did me right.
Thanks, Rockford, IL, you did me right.
...you have heard that it was said to the people long ago, "Do not break your oath, but keep the oaths you have made to the Lord.' But I tell you, do not swear at all: either by Heaven, for it is God's throne; or by the earth, because it is his footstool; or by Jerusalem, for it is the city of the Great King. And do not swear by your head, for you cannot even make one hair white or black. Simply let your "Yes" be "Yes" and your "No", "No"; anything beyond this comes from the evil one.
Settle matters quickly with your adversary who is taking you to court. Do it while you are still with him on the way, or he may hand you over to the judge, and the judge may hand you to the officer, and you may be thrown into prison.
It is also written, do not put the Lord your God to the test.
I am with you for only a short time, and then I will go to the one who sent me. You will look for me, but you will not find me; and where I go, you cannot come.
(rollover verses for attribution)
It's cold here in a way that it never is in Seattle. I felt pretty tough about it, even though my mom said to pack all the warm things I had. It just hits and bites your skin and endeavors to work it's way down into your core. It's taxing.
I've been reading another Saul Bellow book, that damn old Chicagoan, and I feel closer than ever to him here. It's Saul Bellow's coming-of-age story, and I'm like, goddamnit, when am I ever going to come of age anyway, so I can write my own damn coming of age story...or just knowingly hint at it with glints in my eye.
Really though, it's cold here. I miss the women but at the same time I feel further away from everyone than ever, and not just by miles. Buddhists don't have destiny, not in the same way as everyone else, with their destinies of glory. There's just everyone's same old destiny of awakening. Chogyam Trungpa said once, something like, "You want to be able to see yourself being enlightened, with all your followers watching you arise into the air, but it's not like that. From the point of view of ego, enlightenment is the ultimate disappointment."
We walked through the strip mall store parking lots, with the cold sucking at us, looking for something I thought to be a common item. I won't say what because it's someone's Holiday Gift (tm). It's all over Jay Leno's monologues, the white house holiday card, the struggle between Christmas and the non-denominational American Holiday Experience. Kay Jewelers with a touching commercial about a very well-groomed Santa Clause giving DeBeers brand diamonds to his tastefully sexy old wife.
The first night I was so tired from a housewarming party I slept immediately upon going to bed. Tonight I of course squirmed for hours in the time-zone difference. I forgot to tell my friends I'm here. Hopefully I can still get them to come eat some chili.
Thank whoever there is to thank for my mom...and the other Karen, who gave me a kind ride to the airport.
I think that the Annenburg Public Policy Center is a Good Thing(tm). Cheney tried to mention them in the Vice Presidential debates, but mistakenly pointed people at factcheck.COM, instead of factcheck.ORG.
I wish I had known about Annenburg Fact Check years ago. Usually I read the news, assume it's all slanted, and just try to get a general read on a situation based on a variety of sources. Sometimes it's nice to know that there actually are people out there who are able to do the work to verify what ads, articles and sources say.
In absolutely the most compelling Fact Check article yet in my opinion, they explore the musical question of whether or not Bush is guilty of manipulating intelligence information to justify a war on Iraq. The answers seem to make Bush look a lot better than most Seattle liberals would believe, but...still pretty bad.
I wish they would have examined evidence that Bush was eager to go to war before 9/11, but they can only explore things that are a matter of public record. They are not in a position to conduct an investigation.
The articles of interest:
Iraq: What Did Congress Know, And When?
Anti-war Ad Says Bush, Cheney, Rumsfeld & Rice "Lied" About Iraq
Asshole posted the pictures of me in six braids on her Fangsgiving post, but like, Frida Kahlo styley.
Also, when we were in the car she coined a term to describe my general personality, "cantankerismé". I spelled it cantankarisma, but. she said it had to have an é to make it "frenchey pretenchey"
Hey Baby! (may 27th, 1999)
Right now you're in your mom's tummy. You're probably only a few hundred cells by now. You're not even a lump yet.
You won't remember what you were thinking or what was going on right now when you're old enough to think about such things, so that's why I'm writing this. So you'll at least know what was going on from the outside.
I love your momma, and I'm glad you're going to be born. I'll be glad to see you. It's almost 9 months before I get to see your face. I can't wait!
Hi baby (may 28th, 1999)
I've started to get used to the reality of you. What a trip! A cross between your Mom and I. We are both so different!
People are so strange when I tell them about you. They don't know what to say. It's a little like some kind of limbo-dreamtime. Externally things are still the same. I'm still living in the same place and doing the same job. But now there's this secret undercurrent in my life. A seed has been planted. The seed of you, and your life, that must now ripen and come to fruition.
When I am almost 30, you will be in grade school...then, when I am about 40, you will be learning to drive.
Baby I am not afraid! (no date)
Fear is confusion itself!
This is not just bravado. I have been afraid and confused before and I will no doubt be afraid and confused again.
Hey baby, it's June 7th!
You're almost a month old. Your mom is starting to notice you! Her chemicals are all wacky and she's throwing up and has to stay home from work.
She can't tell anyone until she moves out of her mom's house, and so she must feel pretty lonely about it. She has you and me though. We'll take care of her. Her body will get used to you soon enough. It must be strange having you in her body.
It's so funny, it's so like me, I can't wait to touch you. I bet you'll have crooked teeth like me and my mom. Your mom has super pretty teeth but I think she has had braces...silly things. Crooked teeth aren't too bad. They've kept me from getting too vain.
Well, good luck with your gestation. I hope it's going well for you in there.
Hi Baby! June 9th, 1999
Happy one month of being alive!
Good Morning Kiddo (June 12th, 1999)
A couple here has a baby. They look so weird and squishy. I don't usually imagine you as a baby. I imagine you as 6 or 7 or so. I can see you as either a boy or a girl in the mind's eye.
Hey, little bug. (June 15, 1999)
We had an audience with Thrangu Rinpoche. It was very cool, about 20 or so of us in the living room with him and asking personal questions. I told him that you were growing in the womb and asked if he had any succinct advice. This was his response as closely as I remember (from the translation of course):
"The most important thing is to be loving to your child. This means not just showing your love with loving words and loving touch, but truly wanting the best for your child.
The difficulty is, that, sooner or later you will start to get an idea of what the best is, and because of the nature of expectations, it is impossible that the child will turn out exactly as you hope. So you must exercise patience towards what actually happens."
Hey Jo(e) (June 21st, 1999)
Your mom and I decided to come up with a "working title" for you. Some name that could be either sex, because we're getting al ittle tired of calling you "the kid" or even worse, "it". Cammy suggested "The Gipper" - but we finally decided on "Jo(e)". I think maybe there was more to it, but it works for now.
I was sitting here at 5 points 5th and Denny, at the statue of Chief Seattle, and the was a bearded guy in a skirt sitting next to me, staring at the water in the fountain, or maybe at the bottom of the fountain, or maybe the leaves in the fountain. We'll never know.
So finally, after about 10 minutes, he gets up and comes over to me. His skirt is long, a muted color. It hangs to his sneakers.
"I have a question for you," he says, "and it doesn't require an answer."
I sort of nodded, like saying, "Ok, shoot."
"How much freedom can you handle?" he asked.
I nodded again, aknowledging that the question had been heard and he quickly turned away. Attached to the zipper of his backpack I saw a small white feather.
My first instinct was to dismiss the question as a young man who thinks he has everything figured out, and perhaps read too many Robert Anton Wilson books. But quickly I realized...how often is it that you get such clear and straightforward messages from the guru. Not very often. And so I offer this question to you. How much freedom can you handle?
Jo(e) Rabbit (June 30th, 1999)
Yes, that's what it was, Jo(e) Rabbit. I don't know why. Your mom just has her ways about things and I never know quite where they come from.
We are moving into the new house this Fourth of July weekend, a house you could become very familiar with. You'll like it, Jorabbit, growing up on the beach. The idea sounds pretty nice to me.
I wonder if you will have little Tulalip Indians for friends? It is possible. I don't even know what the Tulalips are really like. I've never met one, but I'm sure that I will.
Joe Rabbit (July 14th, 1999)
I don't think I'm going to close this notebook. Not just yet.
It's just that it's getting a little hard to continue to write to you not that I know I may not meet you face to face in this lifetime, unless you are born again into this world and time. It's not impossible, but it truly doesn't seem like this was the time for you.
So now you and I are equals again, just another two beings wandering in samsara, with me not there specifically to guide or protect you. Part of me wishes I could. I was prepared to. God knows!
I will go live with your momma now, though, and hopefully we will live in the spirit of you and in remembrance of your beauty.