diary of revolution

selected musings of a critical thinker

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Location: Canada

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Sunday, February 27, 2005

Captain Trips

I was surprised to hear about this tonight on the television. They devoted thirty minutes to talking about this, and visions of Resident Evil, 28 Dyas Later, and The Stand, danced in my head.
http://apnews.myway.com/article/20041220/D8736P900.html

I found myself surfing around and found some other interesting sites. Enjoy...
http://www.armageddononline.org
http://www.emptyworld.info

For a good read, I recomend Earth Abides:

review: http://www.lostbooks.org/reviews/1998-06-11-1.html
buy at amazon: http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/0449213013/rpcman/103-2257546-6094205

and Rings of Ice, by Piers Anthony.
These will get you in the mood for the end of the world.

And if you've seen Dante's Peak, this is a unique geologists perspective:http://www.geol.umd.edu/pages/facilities/lmdr/dante/dante.htm

For a slightly differant perspective, one through the eys of a previous end of the world, check out:
http://www.2think.org/ishmael.shtml

Friday, February 25, 2005

I can't give up the fight

It's a quiet night. Outside the window, downtown is racing by me, but up here on the 17th floor, it's just me and Bob Marley.

And it's quiet inside. I have found a measure of peace over the last 2 years. A peace that changes into new peace every day, and it defines itself differantly.

Since I have returned to Canada, things have been crazy. I have been crazy.
Trying to figure out what I am doing, and what I am not doing. A mixture of jet lag and just pure laziness.
That laziness has robbed me.

So I woke up this morning and realized I need to get some things in order. One of the biggest things that normalcy has kept me from is that daily time in prayer. So I went outside and walked along the river.
In my time of prayer I heard myself praying that the Lord would lead me to people today. Divine appointments.
The rest of my day was jammed with unexpected meetings with people. Even randomly running into people on the street.

Prayer is a hard thing for people to understand. Understanding is definatly part of the problem. It's not about understanding, it's about doing.
I realize that I can not explain this, and right now everything is too jumbled in me to make sense at all, but I long for prayer. I long for time seek my Lord with my concerns and for direction, and He does speak. And he does listen.

Prayer has become an essential part of my faith. It is my communication with the Lord. Without it, I am lost. I long for the chance to seek Him.
It's a great way to give up smoking, because prayer becomes the crutch that holds me up when I am weak. It renews my strength, and when we can hear the Spirit speak to us life, we find prayer changes things.

I think many people are disalusioned about prayer because they feel like it is in vain. For years I struggled with understanding the validity of prayer because I failed to see how it was working.

Prayer is not a wishlist to God. It is seeking God for His will, not seeking God for His assistance in giving us what we want.
Motives.
Perhaps that is the secret to prayer. Right along with sin.
Unrepentant sin, especially habitual unrepentant sin, keeps us from hearing the Lord. Praayer seems to make no differance because we can not hear the Lord speak. Our ears are clogged up by our sin.
If we can not even obey what God tells us through His word, how will we ever listen to Him in prayer.
Obedience to His word is imperative for a fruitful prayer life.

Like most every other thing in relation to God, we need to give God the freedom to speak to us/respond to us/respond at all, anyway he wants to.
When we set about having an agenda and/or an expectation of what we think God may do, we allow ourselves to become disapointed.
God will never act in the way we think he will. If you can imagine how something might happen, then there is a good chance it will not happen that way.

I love the imagry of revolution so often portrayed in reggae music.
I think it is the struggle against bondage and slavery. Perhaps that is what so many of us relate to, because we are all caught up in that feeling of oppression. We all feel oppressed.
The struggle of these last days seems to be one of slavery versus freedom.

The word Jah is a name of God used in the Psalms.

Jamaica, unlike the other Caribean islands, was the only island whose missionaries were not from Spain. They were from England.
This meant that the missionaries to Jamaica were not catholic, but protestant.

Spain was not part of the refortmation, where as England was. When you look at the Caribean islands you see the result of typical missions work. You had a bunch of missionaroes come and tell native people that they were wrong and they needed to change. Spain was especially bad at this, as evidenced by thier slaughter of pretty much everyone who did not seek refuge with the earlymissionaries, and sometimes, even killed them.
If you look at those islands today, you will notice the native religions are now just a mixture of their faith with the faith of the former missionaries. Cuba has Santeria, which is amixture of catholicism and thier native beliefs. Haiti is about 90% catholic and 110% voodoo(I am aware those figure make no sense).
These "new" or occult/pagan practices are the resultof the merging of faiths as the result, as I see it, of not being sensative to the cultural impact of introducing new faiths to new cultures without leaving these cultures any room for their heritage.

Jamaica, with its English influence, was very pentacostal/charismatic, and that influence contributed to the rasta faith so closely resembling christianity. It was a lifestyle and an expression of their sense of oppresion.
The Hebrew slaves in Egypt exected delieverance from a Messiah.

Happiness is a humanistic thing based on pleasure seeking. True joy comes from feeling that we are pleasing the LORD, and that Joy is much better than the happiness that comes from having no drama in my life. Because I can have Joy and still be in pain, or suffering, or bombarded with temptation. Temptation does not make one sin, and sinning often alieveates temptation,which is a perfect rationale to sin. But suffering through temptation is what Christ did in the wilderness and what we are called to do daily.
I have made some wonderful steps in my life. Yet, I still sometimes want the things, or to do the things, I gave up. I gave them up for reasons that if I do not daily remind myself of, then my will to resist them is not as strong. That is what it means to die daily.

I picked up a book in Maui called Militant Evangelism.
I am not sure how far I made it through that book, but there is somethign about the imagery which the title portrayed that made me want to pick up that book.

The bible is full of militant type referances. But that militant battle is never portrayed as a psyical one, but a spiritual one, and that is the real trick.
It is so easy for people to get side tracked on issues and before long, things happen that take the militant into a very real and violent thing.
Look at the Crusades, but take an even closer look at Israel or Northern Ireland.
Religion has always been a convientient justification for man to kill one another, yet I never see Jesus even hinting that violence is the path we should take. On the contrary, He spoke of love.

I see that the militant expression of faith is effective, but we must always remember that we are called to love, and the battle is a spiritual one not a psyical one. The spiritual battle is fought through our choices and our behavior.

Ephesians 6 speaks of the armour of God.

This book sounds interesting: http://www.cesnur.org/testi/rasta.htm

chanting down babylon

This article summerizes the development and history of the rasta movement:
http://www.christianitytoday.com/ct/2003/132/32.0.html

An intersting article regarding christianity meets rasta:
http://groups.msn.com/TheReasoningRoom/true.msnw

This is an opinion page, with many views on christianity vrs. rasta:
http://www.justbajan.com/opinion/10-02/religion/

Thursday, February 24, 2005

radio 666

Seems like many new things are happening in the world. Things that make me lift my head up and pay attention.
I guess what caught me today was that the pope is back in the hospital. This is unique because when he dies, the next pope is gonna be something.

There was another earthquake in Iran not long ago (CNN chronology of earthquakes in Iran, not including most recent http://www.cnn.com/2005/WORLD/meast/02/22/iran.quake.reut/) and before that, the Tsunami. http://www.un.org/apps/news/infocusRel.asp?infocusID=102&Body=tsunami&Body1
And before that, that real big earthquake in Iran.
http://www.iranmania.com/News/ArticleView/Default.asp?ArchiveNews=Yes&NewsCode=29219&NewsKind=CurrentAffairs

Yasar Arafat died last year.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/middle_east/4001697.stm
http://www.middleeastinfo.org/article4839.html

Just seems like we are in some interesting times.
http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/world/issues/tsunami/?g
These headlines are depressing.

I picked up a newspaper in Scotland and read about Arafat's succsesor, Abbas. Abba is one of the names of God. Abbas, then, seems perfectly blasphamous.
And who is this next pope gonna be? There is a murmer amoung doomsdayers that he will be the last pope. A real nasty guy that will be in leauge with the politicians that will bring about the total destruction of anything good.
"When they cry peace, that is when destruction will come."

The Mayans and Aztects believed that the world would end in 2012. The Egyptian timeline ends at 2012. Could that be it? The final day?
That's seven years from 2005. Could this year be the beginning of the final seven years of planet earth?

And to top all of this off, Hunter S. Thompson commited suicide this week. Why do all of the influences of my youth keep killing themselves?
http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/entertainment/arts/4282865.stm

What do we possibly have to look forward to?
http://www1.tpgi.com.au/users/tps-seti/spacegd7.html

Find out this, and why the common cold is not so common, tonight at 8pm on radio 666.

-------------
Iran and earthqquakes - a geology
http://www.payvand.com/news/04/jan/1109.html
Unexplained Mysteries
http://www.unexplained-mysteries.com/

over the horizon

9 days.
All it takes it reminding myself of something.
I am not sure what. Perhaps only of the last two years. Suddenly in falls perspective, and this city seems like a perfectly nice place to be.

It's been good to see my family.
Nearly two years since I left the city. I am finding my parents enjoyable. Gone swimming lots with my 2 nieces and nephew, and yesterday we went to the zoo. All those little things I have missed while being away.
My sister and her husband are in El Salvador for ten days. They may be moving there. He builds tin houses for people that live in cardboard.

After nine days of doing nothing I am starting to think a little more practically.
Over the next ten months I want to take some kind of TESL course. It has been an objective of mine, since about a month into Maui, to go to Japan. I could actually make a good living (imagine that).
From Japan I could spend a month at odd times in new and exotic places like Australia and the UK and Canada - haha.
Actually, I have not thought that far in advance, but spending a year there would definatly get me out of debt and possibly even get me into a position where I could invest in a home somewhere.

I love traveling, and will continue forever, but not the same way as I have. I don't just want to move around purposelessly. As long as it has purpose.
In hindsight, I suppose that my traveling has had purpose, but maybe I was not aware of it or just off somewhere, maybe just too high, and missed the point.
So I am gonna research this out. I have a few connections already in Japan, and that is a good start and a big help. Working with Japanese students here in Canada would also be an asset.
10 months, with a whole lot of time to prepare, if I use my time wisely.

I have a few objectives in the next few months. Start eating healthy and living healthy. Get in shape.
And I have decided that I need to get out of debt. More the principle of the thing than anything. Something I need to do. Deal with the things I have run from.
And I want to become more disciplined. I want to be in control of me, not be controlled by me. Make goals, and realize them. Say I will do something, and do it, even if I change my mind, because I need to follow through.

Wednesday, February 23, 2005

wake up!

It's been a week and a day.
The notion that somehow it was beneficial to see this place as one may have seen backwards america upon returning from a ten month tour in Vietnam, proved to be as self destructive as if it would have been that. Had I stayed on the road that leads nowhere, I am sure self destructive would be somewhere at the end, but not after a long stint in unproductive.

I opted for the advice of the murkey voice I heard rising up between the layers of dirt I have thrown over the coffin of my dead friend, sadness. Never was much of a friend, actually. Just an illusion.

The way I see it, this city is like a photograph. And through some strange occurance, I am able to not only look at the photograph, but walk through the streets in the picture. I don't feel the substance of actually being here, and that is good. I don't want to feel that again.

It is so much easier to know what I don't want. And I don't want drama.
And I don't want any of those voice overs that seem so senseless and have nothing to do with the story.
I don't want those filler scenes, that show all the characters doing things that make their lives seem like good ones.

Have you ever noticed that the majority of movies in the eighties had two or more scenes like this? Scenes where the characters of the film would ride around on golf carts or dance through the library, just to prove to the audience that their lives are fun? It's like watching a commercial for finding happiness.
'You'll find happiness if you ride golf carts with your Navy Seals buddies or get detention in school, or play volleyball and fly jets.'
Hollywood never seemed so manipulative. It's as apparent as selling beer and sex.

I just don't want drama.
I don't want to be one of the commercials, I want to continue with the show. Being here again does not mean I am on a commercial break, it means the show continues here, for now.

And I make that choice daily. Like dying.

Tuesday, February 22, 2005

slight of hand

Walking through the streets here is like a dream. I don't know if I am asleep and dreaming or dead and remembering.

trace

There's many things running through my mind.
I arrived back in the city a week ago today. So far I have caught up with a few friends, but more importantly, I have caught up with the past.

There are things in that past that seem very far away now. And that is good, because that keeps them in the past.
And there are new realities now, that come with resurfacing in society.

I have been considering going back to school. I need to make some choices that are going to have consequences I can live with a few years down the road.
Contemplating school means asking myself what possible things I could actually tolerate studying, and this leaves me with very few actual possabilities.
I find history appealing, but by itself, I would bore.
I want to study Jesus. That seems the most concrete thing I can come up with.

My other recent decision was to remove myself from debt. Even debt long since forgotten.
I will consolidate my loans and begin the process of dealing with a financial responsability I have avoided, as I have run from nearly everything in my life.
This is the first step in making choices that, though they may be difficult, will reap consequences in the long term, which will be good.

Yesterday I found myself in a coffee shop in trendy little Kensigton. I thought about the benefits of change, and how bias often prevents us from giving the benefit of change to others.

It is easy to think about how I may be seen through the lens of anothers bias, but what do I do when I find myself not extending the benefit of change to someone else?

Of course it is not obvious, but sneaks up in an unexpected way, and I find myself unsure of how to respond to one whom I have long since told myself that I would be a fool to approach again, in any sense of the word.
Not nearly enough time has passed, but am I treating her like I would want to be treated? No.
What is it I should do?
Not wanting to be the fool, I would rather do nothing, which is essentially, what she did.

I must think about this more.

Friday, February 18, 2005

directors cut

Last night I watched the new Donnie Darko. It never made it to Maui when it was re-released last spring.
I don't know if I would call myself an expert on the movie. The hundred or so times I have seen the movie do qualify me to earn the right to express my view of this new edition.

It was longer. It was cool to see a few of the 19 deleted scenes from the original included, though the one's I appreciated seeing as deleted scene's most were not included.
There seemed to be slight extensions to many scenes by a sentance or two. Perhaps the most interesting aspect to this new edition was that 40% of the scene's seemed to be alternate takes from those in the original.
It wasn't so much a bad thing though. I quite enjoyed seeing the same thing done differantly. In a bizarre way it seemed a little like my life at present. I am experiencing an alternate version.

Yet, for the most part I felt like this new version included too many things that were unnecesary. Bits of filer and voice over that took away from the atmosphere of the original.

At present, time is passing rapidly as I see a lot of the filler and voice over that was once so much of my existance. I am watching it from a distance because it is not happening now, but it is like a apparition that I see around this city and in the faces of people I once knew.
I realize that I have become an altered version of who I was and I wonder if people notice.

After nearly a year away from Canada, and another year before that away from the city, I found myself longing to talk to someone that knew me and could confirm to me that I did exist before the world collapsed.
I found that confirmation in Glasgow.
Not only had I changed incredibly, but so had she. Because so much time had passed since we had seen each other, there was no expectation to live up to. We had given each other the benefit of change with time gone by, yet we could appreciate the past without attempting to live in it.

Back in this city I find myself grateful for the same thing, but oposite. Now that I am surrounded by a place that knows me too well, and people who have a preconcieved notion of who I am. That is what I will fight against, the presumptions, and perhaps it is easiest to begin anew.

It is only those who I have known over the last two years that have an presumption of me that is the most correct, because they are not seeing me throught he bias of who I was.

What was distant to me is now right in front of me, and rapidly the last year is trying to slip into memory status. Before long, all I will have is descriptions that will form the memories of a life that seems belonged to someone else.
I suppose that is one of the curses to wandering so much, that I will always seem to feel alive for the first time. Because everytime I shed my skin, like a snake, I lose a little of how I came to be who I am.

I am back in the city that I grew to despise. But in reality, it wasn't the city I despised, it was who I became when I lived here. It took me leaving to figure that out.
I despised myself and blamed that on everyone and everything I could.

Now, every step seems like de-ja-vu, and I know that I do not despise this city. I know that, because I do not despise myself anymore.

This is the directors cut, but this one will be a lot more like the original.

Thursday, February 17, 2005

little things

This morning I went out to convert my foreign currency, and just to walk around this unfamiliar city. I discovered little things hiding in the shadows, like mastercard debt and bank hastles. I suppose these are the things that are easiest to forget, because they are the things we most want to forget. They are also the aspects of normalcy that I never missed. And it makes me wonder about the cost of normalcy.
Over the last two years the things I missed the most, I called normalcy. These were things like driving a car, shopping for grocerys, and having a set of keys. Going out with friends I had earned not inherited by default.

And as I consider what it may cost me to stay here, I wonder if it is possible to stay without compromising, to fit real life as defined by this city.

The amount of corprate greed and financial waste here is incredible. So to is the rising homelessness and poverty.

I live on the 17th floor of a building downtown.
A large portion of downtown is joined together by glass tunnels called plus 15's. They got their name because they are fifteen feet above ground, and every now and then some RV gets stuck underneath one of the many plus 15's in the city because they never bothered to read the warnings.

This morning I barely had to step outside at all to get my errands done. On a cold day, one is thankful for that. You can just go from one building to the next through these above ground tunnels.
On a nicer day one begins to wonder what they are missing by staying inside. The sun. The air. The Oxygen.
This is the gerbil maze that we imprison the socailly elite, and they don't seem to mind. They glorify themselves in their ability to exist without ever needing to face real life, down on the street corner.

In Edinburough, Scotland, I was amazed to discover that underneath the city was buried levels of the previous cities. Most of the gateways into this subteranian world were closed off, but there were places for tourists to go and spend money for a glimpse into the netherlands.
I discovered that the reason for this was because once upon a time the city had a wall around it. As the city grew, they wouldn't build ouside of the wall, so instead they built up.
In the old section of the city all of the buildings are very high and many of them are as far under the ground as they are above.

In centuries past, these subteranian versions of the city became the dwelling places of the impovershed. Gradually, the people and crime that the city chose to ignore, literally became invisable to the elite who lived above them and would no longer have to look upon them.

That is what I thought about today as I made my way throughout this city, 15 feet above ground.

(early in the millineaum, an independant film was shot in the city called waydowntown. It was about a group of young people who made a bet to see who could go the longest without stepping outside. just existing in our gerbuil cage.)

http://www.sauderzone.com/ubtlinks.htm (other tunnels)http://thescotsman.scotsman.com/s2.cfm?id=260302004 (scottish newspaper)
http://dhost.info/differentclass/index.php?p=10 (Edinburgh music scene)
http://www.theflagship.net/coldspot/docs/hauntedhistory-edinburgh.html
(Edinburgh tunels and hauntings)
http://thecapitalscot.com/pastfeatures/vaultedin.html
Edinburgh tunnels)

Wednesday, February 16, 2005

lost in relation

Why is it that I feel like Bill Murry meets Homer Simpson, you know, from that episode where all Homer hears is "blah, blah, blah" when someone speaks to him?

I am happy to be here. This is my home, as far as this coutry goes. As for the city, it seems quite foreign to me, but familar in the way that arriving in LA and looking around you and constantly recognizing things from films you have seen. It has that same kind of familiarity.
Happy to be here? Yes. And I know why, too. Because I didn't come here because I had no choice.

For years, I allowed much of my happiness to come from where I was. It kept me moving a lot. Looking for the elluscive greener grass.
Much has changed. I discovered there is no greener grass. There are no answers, only choices, and happiness is a choice, not a geographical destination. Not love. Not money. Choice.

Right now I just feel lost in relation. The people around me are unclear. Blurry visions of who they were when I saw them through the lens of my bias.
Unable to put my thumb on anything concrete. The people I knew now seem stranger to me then those I don't know.
It is harder to talk to them. Harder to listen.

The last two years of absence has produced a handful of friends I didn't know about, and I am grateful that in the midst of my apparent amnesia, that I have some solid people who have not the opticals of bias.

There is no need to redefine myself.
What this next year will hold is unknown, but first I must set my feet on the ground and figure out how to relate to people here again.

feels like amnesia

I have this ability to self induce vomiting. I just imagine the bile rising in my throat as I attempt to brace myself.

Funny how the simple picture accompanied by a thought could produce a bodily reaction. I guess not that amazing, considering we are trained to relieve ourselves on command.

I think I developed my vomiting trick in my school days as a convienient excuse to missing days, and it has served me well in time off from work as well.

Many years ago I first became aware of Munchausen Syndrome.
Named for Baron von Munchausen, an 18th century German officer who was known for embellishing the stories of his life and experiences, it is the most severe type of factitious disorder.
Most of the symptoms in people with Munchausen Syndrome are related to physical illness -- symptoms such as chest pain, stomach problems or fever -- rather than those of a mental disorder.

Munchausen syndrome is a factitious disorder, a mental illness in which a person repeatedly acts as if he or she has a physical or mental illness when he or she is not really sick. Munchausen syndrome is considered a mental illness because it is associated with severe emotional difficulties.

(There is a great website located at : http://ourworld.compuserve.com/homepages/Marc_Feldman_2/
which explains Munchausen Sydrome and other Fictitious Disorders in more detail)

I use to wake up in the morning and tell myself that 'today is gonna be a great day' and 'I am feeling fine' and 'life is great'.
The problem was that I knew it wasn't true.

The whole self deception thing only works if you can really convince yourself (ie: why psycopaths pass lie detector tests). For me, I never believed I was fine. I was only trying hard to because I knew if I believed it then I wouldn't just want to kill myself at the end of the day.

What needed to happen seemed beyond my ability of will alone. I needed circumstances to transform my immediate situation into an opportunity to make better choices.

We can talk all we want about change, but change means becoming a differant person.
This is why so many of us will never really change. We want differant, but we don't want it to cost us anything. We don't want to give up the things that secure us to who we don't want to be anymore.

Memories are fascinating. I recently heard a pannel of scientists talking about memories in relation to hypnosis. What they said amounted to this:
The more you describe something, the more you remember your desription. Your description becomes your memory, and the more you believe that your description really happened.

They were dicussing how hypnosis is not the best method for remembering your past because of the obvious flaws in memory creation.

Standing in the midst of change as it is happening feels a lot like amnesia.
It may be easy to train our bodies to relieve ourselves, but it was not always easy, as I am sure our parents could contend. It is even possible to train ourself to vomit, especially when we are rewarded by a day off for our efforts.
So, could it have been possible to talk myself out of depression? Was I really dependant on an external change or could I have made that completely of my own accord? Perhaps external change was just the placebo to put my positive will into play.

I wonder how long it will take for me to feel like I have gained my memories back. I am not sure I want them back. They seem better off belonging to a person I use to know before the world colapsed and I learned that to grow into someone new would require differance, and that only through differance, could change find completion.

Tuesday, February 15, 2005

Hello, I am exausted

On Sunday afternoon I took a 3 hour train ride from Saltford into London. It was lovely, and all that you would expect from a train ride through England - rolling hills and grassy fields.
The next morning I took another train to gatwick airport and flew (8hrs) to detroit. Then from detroit to Seattle. Spent the evening with friends in Seattle. This morning I returned to Seatac and flew into Canada by noon.

It is, so far, pretty sureal. It seems like so long ago that I was here (2 yrs in April that I left, though I returned a couple times that summer).
This evening I went driving around some old haunts and it was so strange. It's like I know that I have memories, and I remember but don't feel them. They seem like they are not my memories at all, but they belong to someone else. Or maybe they were a dream or some scenes from a movie I once saw.
I think I worked so well at forgetting, or just overlooking, what I considered to be wasted time, that I am feeling at a loss for feeling anything.
Sorry for rambling. Maybe it's just the jet lag.