A World We Knew

Is the currency of punctuation the Pound or the the Somali Shilling? "Does that work for you or did you want to do something else?" I texted. "That's fine." My friend replied. Such a simple reply.  Too simple.  I found myself frustrated at its simplicity.  "That's fine" you say?  My mind immediately and against my will started thinking why wouldn't they say more?  Why would they use a period?  Why wouldn't they use an exclamation mark?  Or several? Or a smiley face at least?    Why are they upset right now?  These thoughts all went through my head in a nano-second, and I suspect that they have gone through your head at some point in your adult life.  This mindset is symptomatic of the world we live in and the degradation of punctuation's value.  These days you can communicate satisfaction several ways that all portray you in vastly different moods... Good = I can live with it Good. = I'm not pleased, but I ...

The breaking news of John Allen Chau and his fatal mission to the North Sentinel Island spread shockwaves across the globe.  The story was a tragic one. Whatever one might think about his religion or methods, he was a man who felt so passionately about something that he was willing to lay his life down for it.  A whole new story unfolded afterwards however, in the reaction of the world to his death.  There has been a slow rot in the church of the western world for many decades.  Like weeds growing up over a barely used house, the feeling slowly grew amongst western Christianity that the world was becoming less of a place we had influence over or were even welcome.  The common response a post-modern world has to faith of any kind is, "that's great for you personally but just be sure to keep it to yourself." Over a generation that response has become perhaps the only Golden Rule of a secularized society.  John Allen Chau scandalously violated that Go...

High upon the misty mount Rotham blew the North Star out Took it as his ladies gem Watched it as its flaming ebbed And Lyra strong and true and brave Came to him that winters day Asked him why the light was gone The sun was set, the stars were lost And he said... I was born among the rest Born to walk this world and pass this weary test So if you're up in heaven and you're looking down on earth If you want your prized possession You better armor up for war And war it came upon the land Mortals and gods marshaled their men The battle lines were drawn on high Where mountains touched the sunlit sky Kroja summoned his bestial hordes Those animals without a soul Minotaurs monsters goblins and trolls The lesser creatures of the Fold His nymphs and nyriads he did tell To be his creatures generals These lesser gods would have to go Leave the sky to fight below And gods are gods but gods will bleed And when the la...

Today I made up my mind to focus on “big” things.  Revolutions in Africa, poverty in America, tyrranny and oppression in the Middle East.  As I tried to bend my stubborn mind away from the everday distractions I fritter my day away with, there was a part of me that thought in the oximoronical way that only our subconscious can think, “if I truly did start caring this much about big things and not impressing girls, than girls would probably be more into me”.  I thought it and hung my head in shame, laughing morosely. It is hard to have unadulturated, pure passion in this world.   Our image culture tells us that standing for this cause or wearing that movement’s t-shirt will make us cool to our friends.  Our cynical culture tells us that when we do things for others there is no such thing as selflessness.  I’ll help a charity if it makes others notice me, or at least makes me more like so-and-so that I idolize and aspire to be.  Does...

Remember me, Kito I don't know how long I'm gone I wrote you a letter But I bet I beat it home I don't remember Your face in anything But a smile So strange, it seems its... ...Raining Underwater Forgetting the days As roses drift by tokyo parades They say the sun is shining on the waves From somewhere in the dark I heard a noise So strange, it seems its... ...Raining Underwater copyright 2011

A young Florida rain played outside, and Jubal was young. He stooped to pick up the broken picture frame that had fallen at his feet. “What the hell did you that for?” he said quietly, not looking up. “You care more about your damn photographs than about what I'm trying to tell you.” “I thought we were talking. Let's talk then, but you don't have to break the photograph.” “I didn't mean it alright? Geez, it was just a photograph.” “You still didn't have to break it.” “I'm sorry alright?” “Alright”, said Jubal. But it was not alright. He was lonely and far from home and the picture of him and his family lay cracked across its smooth, glass pane. He could feel his eyes get misty. Gosh I'm sentimental. Why am I always so sentimental? “Now I'm trying to tell you something important.” said Thomas. He was always trying to tell someone something important, Jubal thought. Whether it was his investment strategies, his defense ...