Ashes To Ashes...

So, I have been ruminating on the processes involved in the entire life cycle (by the way, drinking several pots of coffee after 10 pm lends itself to a no sleep/deep thought regimen, if thats what you're looking for), and here's what I have come up with:

So, you're born, right?

And you grow and learn and become, right?

And then, once you peak at about 23 or 24, you begin the long, slow, physical and mental slide into first obscurity and then death. By this I mean that long before you're dead, your spiritual and emotional capital has been spent, and often your mental acuity has regressed to the point where you're roughly back where you started.

Once you die, your physical self disintegrates back into its elemental particles and all that is left to carry on your legacy is the reputation you built while you were fighting off all the death...and losing. WTF, mate?

Here's the thing that superfucksmeup...for the most part, our reputations aren't all that stellar, especially right at the point of death. Not only have you probably spent the last few years (if you're lucky) if not at least the last few minutes of your life pissing and shitting and bleeding all over yourself, but your death is proof positive that you are fundamentally organic and human. You were, and yeah people loved you, but humans inherently make mistakes (especially you, and you know what I mean), and believe me, people tend to remember those as much as anything else. Its not until generations later that you are able to attain the sort of fame that makes you immortal, and even then that is a rare, rare, rarely rare thing. Most of us are stuck as scratchy time-bleached photos in somebody else's album, and then eventually as just a name on a family tree or a worn down rock.

People who do attain that sort of immortality are in for a worse fate, however. Take Jesus H. Christ as a prime example...the man was, he breathed and ate and pooped and made love to women and apparently was an incredible public speaker and something of a magician. He inspired, at the very least. Two generations after his death, a religion rose up in his name that challenged and eventually brought down the most potent political force in the history of humanity up until that point. Five generations later, the religion named for him had become the most potent political force in the history of humanity to date, complete with all the torture, despicable alliances, class divisions, boxed thinking, and loss of humility that makes politics so inherently suspect. Now, twenty or so generations later, we all know the sort of things, good and bad, done "in his name," but can any sect of Christianity really make a legitimate claim to his legacy? No, I would argue...no indeed...and so legacy itself is a sham in the long run anyway and so double WTF, my little cherubim?

What do we do it for? Why are we so grateful for even one more day in this grueling fight against death and anonymity? Can it be that each of the moments we are granted is worth it all? That being alive is, in itself, its own reward? That even pain, and instability, and insecurities, and all of the bleakness that besets each of us every motherflipping day are our blessed birthright as humans? We can feel, and that is a thing of beauty. We can feel happy, yes, and should know enough to appreciate those moments most...but we can feel scared too, and angry, and sad, and an infinite amount of emotional blends that aren't necessarily positive but shouldn't those moments be appreciated as well? I say yes. I say that the ultimate appreciation of the gift of humanity expresses itself not just as clearheadedness and strength through the abysmal trials, internal and external, that we all face relatively constantly, but as actual gratefulness for the right to stand trial in the first place. That sort of appreciation, my friends, is what defines true grace...

Women's Basketball...

...this is roughly how I feel about the WNBA:

http://youtube.com/watch?v=3FGI7R0u3TQ

I Take It Back...

10 Reasons Why I'm Angry and Sad?

That's a stupid idea, and I'm sorry to have suggested it. I guess that sometimes, as much as I detest the very idea, I have moments of emo...I blame the fact that I live in the Northwest. Anyway, not only is it rare for me to be simultaneously angry AND sad, I can't even come up with 10 reasons why I should get out of bed before 9 am. Scratch the whole idea, people...instead, let's get positive! Yeah! Happy 4th!