tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-49226981271558721392024-03-13T10:06:46.672-05:00Samurai of Spoken WordThey came, they saw, they wouldn't shut up!
Writers with a heart, a spleen, two left kidneys, a well used liver, and teeth.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger36125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922698127155872139.post-61170215804834683792013-04-26T17:06:00.001-05:002013-04-26T17:07:13.408-05:00Last thing added to my bucket list<br />
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Last thing added to my bucket list</h2>
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~Ann M Meyers<br />
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<b>Last thing added to my bucket list </b><br />
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Here is the problem, I can't remember. Was it driving the <em>Nürburgring? </em> Was it reading something?</div>
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Not only can I not remember what was the last thing I added to my bucket list, I can't hardly remember anything on my bucket list, let alone the important things I should be remembering! Dr. Appointments, etc.</div>
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What happened to me? I'm only 38. </div>
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I'll have whole conversations and forget them. And I won't have been fiddling with my phone or computer. I will be there, checked in, responding. Then later, the memory, gone. </div>
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So maybe, that's what I need to put in my bucket list. Perform memory improvement exercises. Or read books on the subject? or Watch videos, or something?</div>
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What was I rambling on about?</div>
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Video to link-</div>
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<a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2011/06/10/how-to-improve-your-memor_n_874691.html" style="color: #1155cc;" target="_blank">http://www.huffingtonpost.com/<wbr></wbr>2011/06/10/how-to-improve-<wbr></wbr>your-memor_n_874691.html</a></div>
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Game to link-</div>
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<a href="http://www.lumosity.com/landing_pages/188?gclid=CM3G5cji47YCFYyY4AodYTQAog" style="color: #1155cc;" target="_blank">http://www.lumosity.com/<wbr></wbr>landing_pages/188?gclid=<wbr></wbr>CM3G5cji47YCFYyY4AodYTQAog</a></div>
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Book to link-</div>
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<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Moonwalking-Einstein-Science-Remembering-Everything/dp/0143120530/ref=sr_1_6?ie=UTF8&qid=1366822535&sr=8-6&keywords=memory+improvement" style="color: #1155cc;" target="_blank">http://www.amazon.com/<wbr></wbr>Moonwalking-Einstein-Science-<wbr></wbr>Remembering-Everything/dp/<wbr></wbr>0143120530/ref=sr_1_6?ie=UTF8&<wbr></wbr>qid=1366822535&sr=8-6&<wbr></wbr>keywords=memory+improvement</a></div>
Ephemilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08992437978052500548noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922698127155872139.post-14891830999421738512013-03-08T16:55:00.002-06:002013-03-08T16:55:40.584-06:00Follow my voice!<span style="font-family: inherit;">From the keyboard of our littlest Samurai, Taryn's story from her childhood:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">The topic for this post is to tell a story about or from your childhood,
well since im still sort of a child I figured I would give this one a
go! I have had soo many crazy things happen to me throughout my
childhood. From taking a four wheeler out on a frozen lake to blowing up
a bounce house with fire crackers. One of my favorite most crazy
memories though took place at a cabin in TightWad Missouri. (I recommend
you stay as far away from there as possible *grins*) </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />Myself, my
mother and my father's ex were going to her cabin in the middle of the
woods in Missouri. We had gone there often, but it was the first time we
had took my mom. I found it odd we were taking her though because the
two women hated each other so you can probably only imagine the
atmosphere was very tense. We arrived at the cabin slightly after one in
the morning so we all just went to bed. I woke up before them and
having been there before knew my way around the grounds surrounding the
cabin and her Uncles cabin next door. I got dressed and ran to his
house. He raised goats and told me the baby goat was mine the week
before when we had been there with my dad. Once I got to his house, he
gave me a bottle full of milk and told me to go feed her. I climbed the
fence into the goat pen and that is where this story gets interesting.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I
was maybe six or seven at the time, and the goat pen was really just a
large extensive fenced off area of the woods. Her uncle was very bored
though so the fence made up this maze into different areas and dead
ends, he said it was to entertain the goats and train them to get to the
house when he called for them. (Weird old man!) So I'm walking, casually
through this maze of goats and rusty fencing, throwing twigs and
kicking trees. It was a normal sunny day so I </span>wasn't<span style="font-family: inherit;"> concerned about
getting lost or going to far out of sight range of the cabins. Well
being so young my mind wonders and I'm still the type of kid that would
play make believe so the goats turn into bad guys, I to a super hero and
all the trees are helpless victims. So I'm running around poking goats
with sticks and </span>screaming<span style="font-family: inherit;"> at them to, "Leave that poor old woman alone!" </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I had forgot all about my baby goat, when suddenly I see her. I run
up to her and feed her the bottle, she guzzles it down so fast that I
fall over laughing. "You thirsty little girl!" comes out through the
chuckles. That's when I realize how dark its gotten. How long had I been
playing in this pen? What time was it? Why was no one looking for me? I
could not see ten feet ahead of me barely, and being a six year old I
start to </span>panic<span style="font-family: inherit;"> I run left and hit a fence line. I run following the
fence, refusing to let go, which results in cutting the crap out of my
hand. Dead end! I look around, I hear leaves rustling and footstep? So I
scream, repeatedly at the top of my lungs "MOM! MOMMY! HELLO?" I run
back until i see another passageway in between fences. I'm jumping over
tree trunks and dodging goats like crazy the whole time screaming bloody
murder. Another dead end. I stop to catch my breath and hear people
screaming "Follow my voice, Calm down, Its ok, Follow my voice!" I
slowly climb over the fence and out of the "goat pen" to the rest of the
woods. I run, in a straight line so far in the wrong direction. I get
to a creek and try to remember if I had ever been there before. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />I
believe I had been, so I follow the creek the way the water is flowing
and end up behind our utility shed. Suddenly its sunny again and it only
looks like noon, according to the sun. I run around over to my mom, my
fathers ex and her uncle. They are chuckling so hard. That made me soo
mad! "Why are you laughing?" I scream in a tone that demands an answer.
They all look at each other and laugh before saying, "You were about a
yard away from us the entire time sweetie, you really have a wild
imagination!" <br />I never said I was a normal child, noo I put myself in scary situations. <span class="emoticon emoticon_smile"></span><br />-Taryn</span>Ephemilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08992437978052500548noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922698127155872139.post-20761354218405401452013-01-24T13:34:00.002-06:002013-01-24T13:34:30.984-06:00Ephemily's DIY Cards Against Humanity Tutorial<span id="internal-source-marker_0.5150967848790323" style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">The <a href="http://samuraiofspokenword.blogspot.com/">Samurai of Spoken Word</a> have an event coming up where we're going to be playing a party game called <a href="http://www.cardsagainsthumanity.com/">Cards Against Humanity</a> team trivia style. I'm excited for several reasons. First of all, it's going to be a hoot juut because the game rocks. (It's best described as Apples to Apples for people going to hell.) But, I also get to use my own home made deck AND be the MC for the night. I can't wait for the 28th.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Since discovering the game Cards Against Humanity in 2011, I've sent probably close to 10 decks through my little laserprinter. Being a creative commons game, the creators made the cards available to download from their website and print either at home or at a place like Kinkos. Over time, and with some help, I modified the game and cards. It started with printing out more blank cards so we could keep the deck fresh. Then, when my group of regular players and I got tired of the small size (the original downloadables are on perfectly square cards with nothing on the backs of them so it got to be a chore to keep them separated or determine which way was up.) we got the idea to completely re-do them on our own custom deck. I did some thinking, and decided that business card sized cards would be just right. They were large enough to be easy to read, but small enough to not create a space hog of a game. The bonus was that you could also easily tell which way was up based on the shape. The addition of a back with a "!" for the answer and "?" for the questions was cosmetic, really. But it's generally agreed that it was a nice touch by the people who've seen my deck.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span> </div>
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I've made the PDFs of the final product available for people to download over the years, and I've passed along how I did it to a couple others as well. But, I thought I'd take a minute to talk about what steps I took to get the deck made start to finish in case someone wants to recreate or even improve upon what I've already done.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span> </div>
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I took two skills that have been my bread and butter over the years and dove right in. I was a QuarkXpress kind of girl in college, and I knew the power of an actual page layout program would make creating this a snap. Not having a current copy of Quark, I had to look for the best of all my options. So, I dug up my copy of Office 2007 and installed Publisher. While that was chugging along, I opened up my spreadsheet program and stacked the two lists of cards in front of me and started typing. Each card type got its own separate worksheet rather than document. It was just tidier that way, and was a smaller risk of losing one file or the other. (This also explains some of the typos in the first versions. I'm hoping they become collector's editions.)</span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;"></span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">The reason for creating a spreadsheet was that I had planned on using that other skill I talked about earlier; the mail merge. I might type like a tommy gun, but there's so many benefits to doing a merge. You have one card that you have to dick with if you want to change fonts, sizes, or colors and those changes are applied across the board. I'm all about simplicity and idiot proofing the process to protect me from myself. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span> </div>
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Once I had my vehicle picked out, it was time to look into what I was going to do about the medium I was going to use. I popped in to a local office supply store, thinking I'd get a pack or two of the perforated business cards so I wouldn't have to spend so much time with scissors in my hands. (Having cut at least three decks with scissors, I think I might be able to crack walnuts with my bare hands, but DAMN if it didn't sting at the time.) When I saw what they were asking for the large pack of perforated cards, I nearly went code brown right there in the aisle. As I weighed my options, it was actually cheaper by about $20 to get a pack of plain, 110 lb cardstock and a small guillotine style paper cutter. So, that’s exactly what I did. To note, all but one of my decks has been printed on white cardstock. But, if you want to save on toner, you could easily change the color of the paper between card types rather than choosing to print them in reverse white on black.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">It’s worth noting that while you’re out buying supplies, you might want to pick up a large can of aerosol hair spray. Brand doesn’t matter, what you’re after is a very fine mist more than anything. I learned the hard way that if you don’t spray the sheets of paper before you cut them, your hands look like you’ve been sweeping chimneys by the time you’re done with your game. You want the fine mist to keep the pages from warping while they dry.</span></div>
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Bear in mind, you could skip the print at home step and just take your final files to a printer. But, if you’re an enterprising person with access to a laser printer, it’s good to know how it’s done. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Supplies in hand, I sat down to create the cards. I started with a blank business card template. You can choose which one you prefer, but I picked on that gave me 10 cards per page. I’d use less paper with that layout than I would if I chose the slightly larger option that only fit 8 on a page. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I wanted to stick with the original look and feel of the cards with my deck. That meant keeping the question cards black and the answer cards white. (That also cut down on toner since you have fewer question cards than answers.) But, I did change it up a little bit with some small embellishments around the edges of the card. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span> </div>
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I’d been brainstorming with a friend of mine on making our own deck, and he’d scanned in the CAH logos from the original cards and turned them into a scaleable vector image that wouldn’t blur when you changed the size. I used that at the bottom of the cards to show the name of the game.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span><span style="font-family: Arial;"></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I started the mail merge wizard, chose my spreadsheet as the data source, directed it to the sheet I wanted to use, and picked the fields I wanted to have inserted into the deck. As a note, I’ve toyed with the idea of printing who came up with the idea for a card, but it’s never panned out. It could be kinda fun though if you want to include it in your own deck. (For more details on how to use the mail merge function, do a quick search on the web with your spreadsheet and page layout included in the search. There are far too many variables to cover here.)</span></div>
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><br />
<div>
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Once the sample text was in place, I could fiddle with the font, size, and special effects like bold or italics. I could also preview what it would look like with live data. Tip from me to you, know how your text behaves when it needs to hyphenate. My first couple of attempts had really awful line breaks in them. Once you've gotten all the text tweaking done, go ahead and complete the merge. I opted to merge the data to a new publication instead of printing it directly to the printer. This gave me the option to mess with the margins and create a .pdf that I could share with others.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">I wanted to have something on the backs of the cards so you could tell them apart more easily. I also wanted it to be simple because I’m absolutely not a graphic designer. This is something that’s easily changed if you've got the ability to draw, but for me, I opted for a large ! on the back of the answers, and a ? on the back of the questions. I dummied up a page of 10 of each of those just like I'd get when I printed the others and was able to use that as the back. Sure, in the end it involved 4 files, but to me that wasn't a big deal. The best part about having 1 sheet to print multiple copies of is that you can use it to create blank cards for write in suggestions.</span></div>
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><br />
<div>
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">When I was done, I had 4 PDFs, 2 fronts and 2 backs. After I printed everything up, I had a stack of roughly 80 pages of cardstock. I put a garbage bag on my craft room table, put down two sheets of cards and started spraying them with hairspray. I sprayed both sides and put them in a pile to dry. An hour or so later, I stacked them up next to the paper cutter and got to work. Each page takes 9 cuts to complete and if you put more than 2 sheets on my cutter they tend to slide around or tear more than cut. You'll have to learn what your sweet spot is.</span></div>
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><em>To recap, you'll need:</em></span><br />
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<ul>
<li><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">A laser printer</span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">1 package of 110 lb cardstock</span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">1 can of hairspray</span></li>
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">
<li><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">1 copy of a spreadsheet application</span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">1 page layout application</span></li>
</span>
<li><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">1 paper cutter or many people you can blackmail into using scissors with you</span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">1 plastic card container</span></li>
<li><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">1 evening or afternoon to devote to creating your design for your cards.</span></li>
</ul>
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman; font-size: small;"></span></span><br />
<div>
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Once you've cut your deck out, you'll more than likely have a table full of paper and a need for something to put it in. I had been usinng a container without a lid previously, but thought that was a little precarious. Being that I didn't want to pay game store prices for a container meant for cards, I thought about my tupperware options. I found the perfect container with a snap on lid at Family Dollar for about $1.25. All of my cards fit, the lid snaps, and they don't slide around so they can't mix up the card type. Yes! I am 100% ready. Is it <a href="https://www.facebook.com/events/267497453376933/">Monday</a> yet?</span></div>
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Ephemilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08992437978052500548noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922698127155872139.post-9325850909664326812013-01-23T18:01:00.000-06:002013-01-25T18:06:18.413-06:00One of the Worst was also the Best<span style="color: #444444; line-height: 21.111112594604492px;">One of the Worst was also the Best- by Ann Myers</span><br />
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<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="line-height: 21.111112594604492px;">When the idea of Worst TV show was thrown up as a blog topic, I thought short and easy and this came to mind. </span></span><br />
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Pine Barrens</div>
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<span style="color: #444444;"><span style="line-height: 21.111112594604492px;">The "</span></span><span style="color: #444444; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.1875px;">the thirty-seventh episode of the </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/HBO" style="background-image: none; color: #0b0080; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.1875px; text-decoration: initial;" target="_blank" title="HBO">HBO</a><span style="color: #444444; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.1875px;"> original series </span><span style="color: #444444; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="line-height: 19.18402862548828px;">The Sopranos"<i>(1</i></span></span><i style="color: #444444; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.1875px;">) </i><span style="color: #444444; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.1875px;"> It's the 3rd Season. For those not "in the know", </span><i style="color: #444444; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.1875px;"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Sopranos" style="background-image: none; color: #0b0080; line-height: 18.88888931274414px;" target="_blank" title="The Sopranos">The Sopranos</a>(2)</i><span style="color: #444444; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.1875px;"> follows the life and exploits of Italian Mafia Don, Tony Soprano and his wide cast of characters. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: normal;"><span style="line-height: 19.1875px;">Let's
be kookie and start on what made this episodes one of the Best. This
episode has some of the best lines and character development. Tony gets
a steak thrown at him by his, now disclosed, bat-scat-crazy mistress.
Paulie who just can't stop creating his own negative momentum, reveals
himself as an over-the-top opportunist as he tries to sell Christopher
out as the culprit on this caper gone </span><span style="line-height: 19.18402862548828px;">amuck.</span><span style="line-height: 19.1875px;"> Grown men hoarding </span><span style="line-height: 19.18402862548828px;">ketchup</span><span style="line-height: 19.1875px;"> packets and rolling themselves up in nasty abandoned van carpet for warmth. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: normal;"><span style="line-height: 19.1875px;">Bobby
leaves the button down behind for a full on, hunter's orange, winter
suit, looking more like a duck blind than a man, but you find out he's
an experienced outdoors man. And so much more great stuff, including
the episode's downfall, the head of the Russian Mob talks about how
Valery, an underling, was like a brother to him and how is saved is ass
in the war, in Siberia.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: normal;"><span style="line-height: 19.1875px;"><b style="line-height: 18.88888931274414px;">Let me state this again...</b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: normal;"><span style="line-height: 19.1875px;">Valery- </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: normal;"><span style="line-height: 19.1875px;">A. Saved the now Head of the Russian Mob (the grand PoohBah, the big cheese, etc)</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: #444444;"><span style="line-height: 19.1875px;">B. Saved him during a war while in Siberia(you know, that REALLY COLD </span><span style="line-height: 19.18402862548828px;">barren</span><span style="line-height: 19.1875px;"> wasteland place?!) </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: normal;"><span style="line-height: 19.1875px;">C. The head of the Russian Mob loves him like a Brother</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: normal;"><span style="line-height: 19.1875px;">Did you get that? Especially you David Chase! (Chase is </span><span style="line-height: 19.18402862548828px;">mystified</span><span style="line-height: 19.1875px;"> why anyone in the fan base gives a flying ship what happened to the Russian(<i style="line-height: 18.88888931274414px;">2)</i>... See A-C above please. It was your show. Don't feed us this kind of line if you don't mean it!)</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: normal;"><span style="line-height: 19.1875px;">Anyway,
this leads us to the Worst part(spoiler alert!). Paulie and
Christopher go to get a money drop from Valery, mentioned above.
Paulie, who's having a personal pissy princess </span><span style="line-height: 19.18402862548828px;">pouty</span><span style="line-height: 19.1875px;"> party
about having to make the pickup for the sick Silvio, acts like a
complete D-bag and busts up Valery's remote. Valery is already a few
sheets to the wind loses a fight to Paulie and Chris and gains a
collapsed windpipe. In mafia cliche style, but proven by </span><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TyWnxMyXf2c" style="color: #0068cf; line-height: 19.1875px;" target="_blank">Mythbusters</a><i style="line-height: 19.1875px;">(4)</i><span style="line-height: 19.1875px;">, they roll him in a rug to haul him out for disposal. They drive to the Pine Barrens of Jersey. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: normal;"><span style="line-height: 19.1875px;">When
they arrive, Valery is ALIVE(no big shocker, see A-B above). Knee deep
in snow, they march the Russian into the Pine Barrens and give him a
shovel to dig his own grave. So, much like throwing the </span><span style="line-height: 19.18402862548828px;">Brier</span><span style="line-height: 19.1875px;"> Rabbit in the </span><span style="line-height: 19.18402862548828px;">Brier</span><span style="line-height: 19.1875px;"> Patch the Russian </span><span style="line-height: 19.18402862548828px;">successfully</span><span style="line-height: 19.1875px;"> attacks
them and gets away, though he did get shot. Paulie and Chris get lost,
because they can't follow their own tracks in the snow and end up
barely able to get a may-day out to Tony. Long story short, Bobby(the
human duck blind) and Tony come to the rescue and they leave the woods
to find... Paulie's car is GONE. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: normal;"><span style="line-height: 19.18402862548828px;">Best
case, Valery is found or drives away very damaged, treated, and the Mob
Boss is SO happy to see him alive, he never investigates Valery's last
known interactions. (like the regular $ pickup)</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: normal;"><span style="line-height: 19.18402862548828px;">Worst case, Mob war.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: normal;"><span style="line-height: 19.18402862548828px;">Ether
way, something happened to Valery and something should happen in the
story because, see points A-C above. But, NOTHING happens. NOTHING
EVER. The series ends and not even a blip. It makes NO sense. Even the
writer agrees<i style="line-height: 18.88888931274414px;">(3)</i>, but Chase is a plot-hole lovin' fool. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: normal;"><span style="line-height: 19.18402862548828px;"><br style="line-height: 18.88888931274414px;" /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: normal;"><span style="line-height: 19.18402862548828px;">And
that is why David Chase should have been flogged with a wet noodle and I
say this is the worst show, even though it could be the best. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 19.1875px;">I </span><span style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 19.18402862548828px;">encourage</span><span style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 19.1875px;"> you to watch the episode or read the full account on the Wikipedia page I linked below. It's a real hoot/disappointment. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: x-small; line-height: normal;"><span style="line-height: 19.18402862548828px;"><i style="line-height: 18.88888931274414px;"><b>Footnotes</b></i></span></span></div>
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<i style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.1875px;">1. </i><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pine_Barrens_%28The_Sopranos%29" style="color: #0068cf; font-size: 12pt;" target="_blank">http://en.wikipedia.org/<wbr></wbr>wiki/Pine_Barrens_(The_<wbr></wbr>Sopranos)</a></div>
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<i>2. </i><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Sopranos" style="font-size: 12pt;" target="_blank">http://en.wikipedia.org/<wbr></wbr>wiki/The_Sopranos</a></div>
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<i style="font-size: 12pt;">3. <a href="http://www.slate.com/articles/arts/culturebox/2012/12/alan_sepinwall_s_the_revolution_was_televised_excerpt_david_chase_and_the.html" style="color: #0068cf; font-size: 12pt;" target="_blank">http://www.slate.com/<wbr></wbr>articles/arts/culturebox/2012/<wbr></wbr>12/alan_sepinwall_s_the_<wbr></wbr>revolution_was_televised_<wbr></wbr>excerpt_david_chase_and_the.<wbr></wbr>html</a></i></div>
<div style="color: #444444; line-height: 21.111112594604492px;">
4. <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TyWnxMyXf2c" style="color: #0068cf; font-size: 12pt;" target="_blank">http://www.youtube.com/<wbr></wbr>watch?v=TyWnxMyXf2c</a></div>
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Ephemilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08992437978052500548noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922698127155872139.post-72080562897250299292013-01-21T18:01:00.000-06:002013-01-21T18:16:02.307-06:00A long time in the making - 118 Migration - SafetyThose of you who know fellow Samurai Will Ross either in person or online know that he's been working on his opus, 118 Migration, for as long as most of us can remember. It's not uncommon for friends to chide him when he's up to his regular antics with "Shouldn't you be writing the ending of 118?". And with that buildup, we the Samurai are proud to announce that along with fellow authors Chris Wiig and Aaron Sailors, Will has released Safety (One Eighteen: Migration) [<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Safety-One-Eighteen-Migration-ebook/dp/B00B3HSYKM/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1358704650&sr=8-3&keywords=one+eighteen+migration">Kindle Edition</a>]<br />
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From his keyboard to your eyeballs, here's his summary of what you get for your $6 ebook purchase.</div>
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<i>At long last: The Kindle edition of Book 1 (Eps 1-10.) The print edition has a bit more background information (things that didn't fit/wonked the flow of audio drama) so it's got 10-20% "bonus content."<br /></i></blockquote>
If you've been a fan of the audio drama and want the book version, this is the perfect companion. If you're new to Will, Chris, and Aaron's craft, you can start from scratch with the podcasts <a href="http://19nocturneboulevard.net/Episodes.htm">here</a>. I can promise you, this is a zombie apocalypse series you won't want to have passed on.Ephemilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08992437978052500548noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922698127155872139.post-37301964430667237132013-01-08T13:10:00.000-06:002013-01-08T18:37:54.098-06:00My Light-bulb Momentby <a href="https://www.facebook.com/williamlross">Will Ross</a><br />
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My girlfriend and I had a small, low wattage lamp in the living-room of our place in Albany Park. At night we liked to turn off all the lights in the place except for that, and watch terrible terrible television like Bridezillas or The Jersey Shore, while we made fun of it and hoped not to be hit by random gunfire.<br />
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Well, things were going quite well with us for a few months... then one day the light burned out. Using her cell phone for light, we scoured the apartment for a replacement bulb, and eventually found one. It wasn't quite designed for this lamp, but we reasoned that the wattage was about right, and it would fit.<br />
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It was unfortunately, no ordinary bulb....<br />
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a cursed item, forged in the boiler room fires of the GE Electric company by Jack Welch himself, this bulb was somehow circular, fluorescent, blue, and yellow, all at the same time. Capable of emitting a ghostly, humming light to the room that turned your skin the pallor of a zombie, and made all the cat's eyes glow turquoise, this is the bulb that would light our evenings for the next three months.<br />
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Named by the dwarves The Lightbulb of Relationshipial Strife, it did its job well...<br />
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If you told me today that it was one of Rupert Murdoch's horcruxes, I would not respond with surprise.<br />
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If you can imagine the feeling of being with someone you absolutely adore on a five day car trip, you can imagine what it was like to live with this light bulb that I liked to call "Space Bulb."<br />
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It flickered, but you couldn't tell unless you were looking for flickers. It didn't hum unless you were listening for it. The color didn't hurt your eyes, unless you were asking yourself "does it hurt to see colors this way."<br />
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The light-bulb was tailored for stealth annoyance, and it wasn't fucking around.<br />
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Suddenly we were on edge all the time. In the anti-flattering light of the space bulb, we looked like Daniel Clowes characters, and we were always about a single annoyance away from sniping at each other.<br />
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The nookie river dried up.<br />
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Also, the light was like a fish eye lens. The apartment never looked or felt clean, because it was being lit like the motel where the girl is murdered in CSI: Miami.<br />
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"He beat her to death with a lamp because she didn't like the dinner he cooked her..."<br />
"Not the brightest... bulb."<br />
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"YEAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"<br />
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So yeah, it was lit like that. I think we might have even broken up two or three times. Then some time right before she hit me with a frozen leg of lamb and pushed me out the window we had a power surge and it popped. <br />
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By that point we'd purchased replacement light-bulbs, but never changed the Eye of Sauron because we are stupid. Really stupid. <br />
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Though it burned me as I took it out, I bravely removed the cursed thing. The moment we put in a light bulb made by and meant to be used by humans, color returned to the world. The hum was gone, and we could again hear the sirens, and the shootings, and the men yelling at women from their cars.<br />
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We were free....Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922698127155872139.post-57781786917152176932013-01-04T08:21:00.001-06:002013-01-04T08:21:20.239-06:00January, We have shows!So of course I figured after our one year anniversary I would sit back relax enjoy the moment and chill a bit.<br />
Then the phone rang.<br />
Well okay not the phone but my email, the nice people at the Slowdown told us they would like to have us back on January the 30th.<br />
Which put us in an interesting place because we had a date scheduled for Jan 28 at the Pizza Shoppe. Now we know you love us but two shows in three days is a bit much, so we decided to do something a bit different for the 28th.<br />
We've been kicking around the idea of doing a improv show of some sort for some time, so we decided this would be a great chance for us to do something a bit different.<br />
Ephemily introduced all of us to the game "Cards against Humanity" a while back, for those of you unfamiliar it's basically Apples to Apples for people who are going to hell. It's warped, deranged and more than a little evil.<br />
So for us it's perfect. Which means that on Jan 28th we will be debuting our Samurai Cards Against Humanity Game Night. Come watch us shame ourselves, more so than usual.<br />
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Then on Jan 30th Come Join us at the Slowdown at 8:00 for a show full of all you have come to expect from us, Poetry, Stand Up, and Storytelling all in one place. For the low price of ... NOTHING! FREE! Well okay we'll ask you for a donation for a charity that needs the money, and the people at the Slowdown will be happy to sell you a beer or six, but aside from that No cover.<br />
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So come join us, the year is starting and we are off and rolling!<br />
Best to you all.<br />
Dave Nesbit<br />
<br />David Nesbithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09718954848965840955noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922698127155872139.post-38857325803263926332013-01-02T17:52:00.000-06:002013-01-08T17:52:45.252-06:00Samurai ResolutionsHappy 2013 everyone! We've got some new tricks this year. Every month, we're going to try and get a new samurai to showcase their talents with a fresh blog post to keep the energy alive. Topics can range from a personal rant, to sharing never before published poetry. The point is, we want you, our fans, to get to know us and our individual personalities better. It's going to be a fantastic new year!Ephemilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08992437978052500548noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922698127155872139.post-59983149445110870992012-12-26T19:59:00.002-06:002012-12-26T19:59:35.101-06:00It's been a year!!<br />
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On December 26 a bunch of crazy and brave souls stepped out onto the stage at the pizza shoppe. 3 hours later it was decided we had to do it again, and again. And here we are one year later prepping for our one year anniversary.<br />
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That Year has seen a lot of performers both come and go, some people moved onto new places, others stepped up to the group and haven't left. All of them though have left us a year rich with stories, laughs and growth as artists and performers.<br />
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So come join us for our one year anniversary show on New Years Eve. The Samurai will rock the stage then invite the audience to join them in a pub crawl of Benson. We look forward to seeing you, and we hope to see you and more over the coming year.<br />
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Thank you all so much!!<br />
<br />David Nesbithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09718954848965840955noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922698127155872139.post-40331187683629015052012-11-14T12:34:00.002-06:002012-11-14T12:34:37.634-06:00We have New performers!!Please help me to welcome two of our newest Samurai. Samuel Schrage an excellent stand up comedian. He opened the show properly in November and got us all on a roll, and he will be playing our Nov 26th Spotlight show.<br />
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And Jessica Taryn Kleckner. I'd call her a slam poet but somehow it seems a bit deeper than that. Come check her performance out on Dec 10. She lit the place up bigger than life at the last show, and We're sure she'll do it gain.<br />
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Pictures and other goodies in a little while.<br />
<br />David Nesbithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09718954848965840955noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922698127155872139.post-85026834244584540882012-11-14T12:20:00.002-06:002012-11-14T12:22:46.668-06:00Nov 26 Samurai Spotlight!!Come join us on Nov 26th for a Samurai Spotlight Show. Two of our crew will go up and perform for you.<br />
First We have Sam Schrage, A new member of the group who does amazing stand up.<br />
Second we have the always engaging Marlowe Mapes. Who will bring to the stage her mix of poetry story telling and more!<br />
Doors open at 630 there's an open mic at 7 and the show begins at 8.<br />
<br />
Nov 26 at the Pizza Shoppe Collective. 6056 Maple st.<br />
The Show is free but we will be taking donations on behalf of the American Red Cross. David Nesbithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09718954848965840955noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922698127155872139.post-62358231750015034222012-10-16T19:25:00.002-05:002012-10-16T19:27:18.143-05:00Samurai Spotlight! Oct 29 The Pizza ShoppeTwo Samurai arrive and take the stage for longer sets than usual. Yep that's it. Two hours two samurai and an intermission. Come down and see how they fill the time they're given!<br />
<br />
Show starts at 8 with an open mic night proceeding it at 7.<br />
Admission is free. If you're in the mood feel free to donate to the nights charity.<br />
<br />
The Venue<br />
<br />
The Pizza Shoppe Collective<br />
6056 maple st<br />
Omaha Nebraska.<br />
<br />
So skip football and join us for a night of entertainment that is out of the ordinary and performers who could be rightly called out of their minds.<br />
<br />David Nesbithttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09718954848965840955noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922698127155872139.post-55666604830334714572012-06-27T12:50:00.002-05:002012-06-27T12:50:56.781-05:00Welcome To The Board, Ephemily!<i>I originally posted this on my own blog, <a href="http://ephemily.org/">ephemily.org</a>. I've reproduced it here for your reading pleasure.</i><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
I originally wrote about the idea of volunteering with Planned Parenthood in my post “<a href="http://www.ephemily.org/2012/06/putting-my-actions-where-my-intentions.html">Putting My Actions Where My Intentions Are</a>”, but I thought I’d write an update to that. Last night at a little after 10:00 PM, I got
an email congratulating a group of us, and welcoming us to the Friends of Planned Parenthood Board. I made it!
As far as what it means to be on the board, here’s an excerpt of the
list of responsibilities that was sent to me before I applied for the position.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<ul>
<li><span style="font-family: Symbol;"><span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";"></span></span>The Friends of Planned Parenthood Board is
charged with fundraising efforts for the benefit of Planned Parenthood of the
Heartland. It is also responsible for
enhancing public awareness and understanding of Planned Parenthood.</li>
</ul>
<div class="MsoListParagraph" style="text-indent: -0.25in;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s a 3 year term, with a maximum of 2 consecutive terms. It is an
unpaid position. Board members are required to attend board
meetings (held over lunch once a month), assist in fundraising, serve on
one or
more committees for the annual benefit, volunteer at events, and solicit
donations. We’re also tasked with being
a liaison for Planned Parenthood, and advocate what the organization
stands
for. Well, aside from the asking for
money, I kinda already do that now. So,
I get to represent an organization I support already, and I can add the
gig to
my resume. All around, I think the next
three years will be an adventure. I
might have an inner politico after all!</div>Ephemilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08992437978052500548noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922698127155872139.post-44078564867714340822012-05-24T13:08:00.000-05:002012-05-24T13:08:09.555-05:00The Return of Megan K. McGuireSamurai Megan K. McGuire graced the crowd with her spellbinding presence this last week, where she read
several poems by the late poet Adrienne Rich, who passed away in March
of this year. She also read some of her original work, which included
this rhythm piece- Apolitical<br />
<br />
<b>Wait - Adrienne Rich</b><br /> <br /> In paradise every<br /> the desert wind is rising<br /> third thought<br /> in hell there are no thoughts<br /> is of earth<br /> sand screams against your government<br /> issued tent hell’s noise<br /> in your nostrils crawl<br /> into your ear-shell<br /> wrap yourself in no-thought<br /> wait no place for the little lyric<br /> wedding-ring glint the reason why <br /> on earth<br /> they never told you <br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
~*~*~*</div>
<br />
<b>Apolitical - Megan K. McGuire</b><br /> <br /> <br /> If we continue down this path<br /> Make the mistakes <br /> we threaten<br /> to- We're doomed.<br /> <br /> You heard me. This is the <br /> Slippery slope the<br /> Road to hell<br /> Disaster<br /> how can we teach<br /> This leave this to our<br /> Children?<br /> <br /> We owe it to them<br /> Ourselves to stop<br /> This heresy this injustice<br /> Cannot stand<br /> <br /> Cannot stand our rights<br /> Our lies our way of life <br /> Is at stake!<br /> <br /> Is this<br /> What you want?<br /> Are you angry<br /> Yet? Who are these clowns<br /> These idiots who think<br /> They can take what is ours?<br /> <br /> We must defend ourselves!<br /> Do you hear me?<br /> We must defend<br /> Our biggest fears<br /> Will be <br /> Realized. They are Greedy.<br /> Realized. They are Corrupt.<br /> Realized. They are un-natural<br /> Unreal unlike us<br /> <br /> Don't <br /> wait, <br /> do not<br /> stop<br /> <br /> March! Fight! Protest!<br /> Pick up the phone and give!<br /> Vote! <br /> Vote for the person you want<br /> voting for you<br /> <br /> Don't let them ruin<br /> The world. Watch out<br /> For those who<br /> Claim to<br /> Speak the truth!<br /> <br /> Just one more thing to<br /> Decide.<br /> Who the hell are "THEY".? <br />
<br />
<br />
To see her work performed, check out the first half of the May 21st show on our <a href="http://www.ustream.tv/channel/spoken-word-events">Ustream Channel</a>.Ephemilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08992437978052500548noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922698127155872139.post-71698307386487192482012-05-22T13:37:00.000-05:002012-05-24T13:24:52.131-05:00Who let the Rogues out?So yesterday was a good day.<br />
Not only did our show raise the bar on excellence, I had a personal milestone yesterday.<br />
My fantasy novel, <i>Rogues of the Black Fury,</i> hit the streets.<br />
Who let the Rogues out?<br />
I did.<br />
That's right, a kick-ass fantasy story that can be encapsulated as Navy SEALS vs. Al-Qaeda in a Renaissance-style fantasy setting.<br />
A link to the Kindle edition is below, but it is also available in trade paperback and all e-reader formats. <br />
<br />
<br />
“Bold, colorful characters pull the reader into an unforgettable adventure with the perfect mix of suspense, intrigue, and action.” —Jeanne Cavelos, author of <i>The Passing of the Techno-mages </i><br />
<br />
“Rogues of the Black Fury mixes a berserk action thriller sharp as a mercenary’s sword with hard-bitten fantasy so gritty it might scour your bones clean by the time you’re done.” —Matt Forbeck, author of <i>The Amortals</i> and <i>Carpathia</i><br />
<br />
<iframe class=" vlgvchvfdhzvvexfhtnf" frameborder="0" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?lt1=_blank&bc1=000000&IS2=1&bg1=FFFFFF&fc1=000000&lc1=0000FF&t=thwrli-20&o=1&p=8&l=as4&m=amazon&f=ifr&ref=ss_til&asins=B0082D2EWE" style="height: 240px; width: 120px;"></iframe>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922698127155872139.post-78283616331225806212012-05-08T08:41:00.002-05:002012-05-08T08:41:48.946-05:00Samurai Dave Speaks!For our April 30th show, we had two milestones. First, we debuted at a brand new venue. Thanks to the <a href="http://www.theslowdown.com/">Slowdown </a>for the opportunity to branch out and grow this thing we've made. Second, we hit a record amount in donations to our cause. Our local NPR affiliate of choice took home just over $500, or enough to keep them on the air for 4 hours. Prior to the show, our own Dave Nesbit gave a radio interview with <a href="http://www.kios.org/">KIOS</a>. We're so proud! He was up early, and even using big words!<br />
<br />
You can listen to it here. <a href="http://www.publicbroadcasting.net/kios/ppr/kios.m3u">http://www.publicbroadcasting.net/kios/ppr/kios.m3u</a>Ephemilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08992437978052500548noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922698127155872139.post-37285586938383396392012-05-06T13:24:00.001-05:002012-05-06T13:35:03.897-05:00Homemade FusionSamurai Megan McGuire is featured tomorrow night in 'Homemade Fusion'
with the <a href="http://www.facebook.com/TheCandyProject">Candy Project</a> at the <a href="http://www.omahaplayhouse.com/">Omaha Community Playhouse</a>. Come on over
and listen to a crazy bunch of singers rant about masturbation, stalkers
and candy bar love. It's free- voluntary donations to the Playhouse
accepted. Part of the 21 and Over performance series.<br />
<br />
For more information, please visit their website: <a href="http://www.thecandyproject.com/TheCandyProject/_home.html"> http://www.thecandyproject.com/</a>Ephemilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08992437978052500548noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922698127155872139.post-13159578817325115962012-05-02T11:30:00.000-05:002012-05-02T11:30:26.153-05:00The Samurai Perform at Dreaming, Sat May 5thWe so crazy! In just 3 days, the <a data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/page.php?id=300516373334980" href="http://www.facebook.com/SamuraiofSpokenWord">Samurai of Spoken Word</a> take the stage at Dreaming. This time to raise money for St. Monica's House. <br /> <br />
St. Monica’s is a behavioral health treatment organization dedicated to
serving women. They accept women age 13 and over, who are diagnosed
with substance abuse and/or co-existing mental health issues. Fees are
assessed on a sliding scale, based on the income of a client, her
ability to pay, and availability of funding.<br /> <br /> See the show at 5:30pm, Saturday the 5th at 712 S 16th Street, Omaha, NE. Ephemilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08992437978052500548noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922698127155872139.post-65188832697047100272012-05-01T20:13:00.003-05:002012-05-02T09:49:08.231-05:00An Appology to Our Fans<h6 class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{"type":1}" style="font-weight: normal;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}">Dear Fans, <br /> <br /> There was an mistake last night (4/30/2012) and we want to make sure that some great poets get credit for the works that were covered.<br /> Rives - "Dirty Talk" <br /> Anis Mojgani - "Shake The Dust"<br /> Mike McGee - "I like You"<br /> Shane Koyczan - 'This is My Voice' Remix<br /> <br /> In the heat of great poetry we missed the proper mention, and we apologize. <br /> <br /> Thanks for coming out and supporting poetry, storytelling, and whatever it is that Dave does.</span></span></h6>
<h6 class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{"type":1}" style="font-weight: normal;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}">~The Samurai </span></span></h6>
<h6 class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{"type":1}" style="font-weight: normal;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"> *Edit: Ryan Lacy, as a result of the backlash of his performance on April 30th, has chosen to step down from the Samurai of Spoken Word troupe. </span></span></h6>Ephemilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08992437978052500548noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922698127155872139.post-34152811999999896962012-05-01T14:00:00.000-05:002012-05-03T06:42:11.857-05:00Experience the SamuraiParenthood, the Samurai's pet cause, is holding a fundraiser in on Sunday, May 19th called "<a href="http://www.plannedparenthood.org/heartland/Nebraska-37982.htm">Are You Experienced</a>?". The event starts at 6:00 PM in the Orpheum Theater lobby, with tickets starting at $100. This includes drinks, a buffet, and open seating. All of the above, plus reserved seating and an after-party is available for $150 per seat. Both levels include cocktails and silent auction.<br />
<br />
Dave, our PR guy, reached out to Planned Parenthood and asked if we could somehow be involved to help raise money for the cause. The theme of the night is experiences, but somewhat more, well, reserved than many of our live shows. Keeping in mind that we need to keep anything we have to offer legal, we the Samurai, brainstormed a few ideas for what we had to offer.<br />
<br />
You will find the following examples of experiences available to bid on during the auction:<br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>Veronica Noir Smash volunteered to start a spirited debate with customizable degrees of belligerence.</li>
<li>Travis Heermann has a minor part in an upcoming horror-western novel up for grabs.</li>
<li>Our own <a href="http://www.ephemily.org/2010/11/charm-school-reject.html">Charm School Reject</a>, Ephemily, submits a table manners class for your approval and bids.</li>
<li>Aikido Experience donated by Mikey Taylor and Rising Star Aikido. Details below:<br /><blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">
The Experience: A 2 hour introduction to the Japanese art of Aikido
held on site at the Rising Star Aikido Dojo in South Bend, NE.
(Interstate 80 exit 426 near Mahoney St. Park)<br /><br /> This experience
will give you the opportunity to try basic self defense techniques in a
dojo setting. You will be instructed by Rising Star Aikido Chief
Instructor Mikey Taylor, Godan. (5th degree black belt)<br /><br /> The
Details: All participants must be 18 years old or older and willing and
able to legally sign a waiver of liability. This session will involve
rolling, falling, turning, spinning and other physical movements in
addition to disruptions of balance and joint manipulations. <br /><br /> This session is open to a minimum group of 4 and maximum of 10 people. </span></blockquote>
</li>
</ul>
Remember, all funds raised go towards Planned Parenthood, and their efforts to provide free or low cost health care to women of all income brackets, creeds, and colors. Choice without pressure or the feeling of being judged is a positive, and should be available to everyone. Join us in supporting <a href="http://www.plannedparenthood.org/heartland/">Planned Parenthood of the Heartland</a>.Ephemilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08992437978052500548noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922698127155872139.post-88460833251438892212012-05-01T08:05:00.005-05:002012-05-01T23:38:47.843-05:00Internet Famous, The Early YearsSomewhere along the way, we got noticed by a guy with a pen. Well, keyboard, I suppose. Mike Machian with Hear Nebraska sat down with several of the Samurai to interview, eavesdrop, and photograph for an upcoming story. Despite being an upstart collection of artists of all genres, mediums, and experience, Mike breathes life into the recent past, present, and hopeful future of the rag tag group known as the Samurai of Spoken Word. We'd like to thank Mike for his time, warm words, and fantastic photographs from our events. We look forward to working with him in the future.<br />
<br />
For your reading pleasure, here is the article in question.<br />
<a href="http://hearnebraska.org/content/samurai-spoken-word-feature-story">http://hearnebraska.org/content/samurai-spoken-word-feature-story</a>Ephemilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08992437978052500548noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922698127155872139.post-49987972728641630192012-04-30T13:06:00.000-05:002012-04-30T13:06:14.304-05:00Show Night! - April Assault of the Spoken WordIt's a new venue for the Samurai tonight. We're taking over the <a href="http://www.theslowdown.com/">Slowdown</a>. The doors open at 7:00 tonight, with the show getting underway at 8:00. Since we packed the house at the Pizza Shoppe last time, we're really looking forward to seeing if we can keep the momentum going. Regulars are welcome, new attendees are encouraged. The show is free, as always, but we're raising money for a good cause. Help us ring in the new stage and support <a href="http://www.kios.org/">KIOS</a>, the local public radio affiliate. Ephemilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08992437978052500548noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922698127155872139.post-70992202294853538592012-04-29T13:12:00.000-05:002012-04-30T13:25:47.514-05:00Promoting the Dream<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 10pt;">So,
so far today I have gone to Biker shops, Tattoo places, Comic shops and a few
other places to hang up promotional stuff for <a href="http://www.wemustbedreaming.com/">dreaming </a>and the art/poker run.
all of them were cool, and awesome and thank you all very much. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 10pt;">The
one shop I went to who said no? Hobby Lobby. Really. An "art supply
shop" said no to promotional material for an art show. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 10pt;">Fuck
you people, my Gaelic is weak. A shame for an Irish American to admit, but
perhaps Patricia Kennealy-Morrison could be kind enough to give me a word in
that epic language for "Holy War." Cause seriously. It's on. All the
nerds, and bikers, and tattoo freaks are in for helping art and charity, but a
art shop run by "Christians" says no. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: inherit; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 10pt;">If
you happen to be part of the local art community. Two words. "Dick
Blick" take your money there.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: 10pt;">~Dave N </span></div>Ephemilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08992437978052500548noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922698127155872139.post-78481016177833842302012-04-23T16:53:00.000-05:002012-05-01T02:47:06.814-05:00Pasta and Plotting<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKv5JJbVWTzuP5MtBVMJuSniAiG2MjhkL3XmCPjai7F5FdqzqrTdBXBmQ1bC1LK_v3lncgrnF-8KijO_hlbqW26n0TYZwv4t76tOlxrtHaajgO_7Y2TfNQ2Q2Jh7TePF9ArGlQixo1_5A/s1600/DSCN0482+-+Fixed.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKv5JJbVWTzuP5MtBVMJuSniAiG2MjhkL3XmCPjai7F5FdqzqrTdBXBmQ1bC1LK_v3lncgrnF-8KijO_hlbqW26n0TYZwv4t76tOlxrtHaajgO_7Y2TfNQ2Q2Jh7TePF9ArGlQixo1_5A/s320/DSCN0482+-+Fixed.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Fellow Samurai, Dave Nesbit and Alysen Ficklen are part of a local group, the Tea and
Villain's society. Once a month, they all dress up in their evil finery
and take a local eating establishment by storm. Raised eyebrows abound
because there's an awful lot of black, leather, PVC, studded
accessories, and thick eye makeup. For some silly reason, I had said I
couldn't make the original meting, and thus hadn't heard anything more
about it. Silly me, I thought it was a one off and never followed up.<br />
<br />
Come
to find out, it's a monthly thing. (Somewhere in here, there's a PMS
joke. I just know it!) And where have I been?! Thankfully, I'm now in
the know and will be on the list of those informed about future
gatherings. The last meeting was this previous Sunday. I'd heard about
it at the very last moment, so I was under the gun to throw something
together. I was worried. I mean, the majority of my closet is red or
black. I got this. The real question was, to rock the eye patch and
bitch boots, or not. Decisions decisions.<br />
<br />
<a name='more'></a><br /><br />
As I'm
leaving for the dinner, my upstairs neighbor is just getting into his
car. He's been kinda sulky the last couple times I've talked to him,
but not this night. Well, he might have been prior to turning around.
He breaks out into this incredulous grin and says "Well, now that's an
outfit." Instant shit eating grin on my part. I tell him I'm my way
out for the evening, and the whole point is to dress up as an evil
villain. (I just chose to go with the evil version of Sandy from
Grease.)<br />
<br />
I had the severe dark makeup, the black curly
haired fake ponytail, a black tank top with a fishnet shirt over it on,
all tucked in to not a poodle skirt, but a rottweiler skirt. Take your
standard sickly sweet poodle skirt from the 50s, dip it in a drum of
distilled vitriol and add a chain instead of a leash and that's what I
had on. Over that was my black leather corset and satin bolero jacket
with a rhinestone initial pin to pull it all together. On my feet, I
had my black lace bobby socks and my clunky saddle shoes. Throw on some
studded half gloves, and I was something to look at, that's for sure.
Needless to say, my neighbors probably didn't know what they were
getting into when I moved in. Though, I will say, I know full well that
my soon to be new neighbor knows. I told her about the place! So, if
you're reading this; *waves* hi neighbor!<br />
<br />
Dinner was a
good time. I ate too much, but that's nothing new. I got a chance to
get better acquainted with s few people I'd met a couple times
previously. It's hard to really talk when you're at your own show.
Plus, I run the rig that gets the show <a href="http://www.ustream.tv/channel/spoken-word-events">streamed online</a>,
so when I'm not on stage, I'm babysitting that. After the show, I'm
tearing it down. Dinner is the perfect time to get that get to know you
talk done. All in all, I'd do it again. However, I ain't to proud to
say that I really just want to post the best photo to come out of the
night. Well, the best photo in my opinion. This is Dave and myself,
indulging our inner evil. Long live cosplay. It's cheaper than
therapy!<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Ephemilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08992437978052500548noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922698127155872139.post-33050670374755527542012-04-18T09:50:00.004-05:002012-05-01T02:47:26.230-05:00The Well<i>Veronica Noir Smash submits her updated story about PTSD and Panic. Originally read/performed at the March spoken word event.</i><br />
<br />
<br />
Not so long ago, my life used to be sorrow… vast & wide, a chasm of
lonely rocky purgatory that I was flung into the moment my Viking was flung
from his steed into his own unknown abyss of darkness. I spent months in
a despair, climbing onto various ledges and facades, just to have fickle wild
forces push me off. Endlessly freefalling down, allowing myself to be
swept away by forceful rivers of potent tears at the bottom, & so unused to
human contact, I forgot how to think & communicate and I alienated everyone
as I was alienated from the world I once knew. I stopped fighting and
exploring for egress because I forgot how, or why. When I traveled I
ambled in circles, without direction or purpose, tacitly accepting my lost fate
& a purpose forgotten. I was beaten against the rapids, bruised and
bloody, so stoic I stopped feeling. When I was too tired to struggle
& direct myself, I would nearly perish on the craggy outcroppings that
changed positions with the seasons. I began to float on my back as the
only means of survival, searching the sky for meaning when I could see
it. Given this slight shift in perspective, while lithely floating down
sorrow’s eroding river, in a moment, a flash of more brilliant sunshine than
seen previously before, I must have realized that, yes, I could devise a way
out, at the point where the chasm was widest. I began constructing step,
by heavy, hard, cold step out of refurbished and corrected logic. I
toiled. I floundered, discouraged. I looked to the sky once more
& redoubled my efforts towards the clouds only to languish, beset by
apathy. I debated whether or not to give up. I hadn’t seen
the world outside of the canyon for what felt like a lifetime…had it been a
lifetime? I was a different person than before, & the only things I
knew were either in the past, or newly pertained to that barren stone
depression that cut through my world, dividing it into then, and now.
What’s even out there? What’s the point of facing more pain on the other
side if the world was just the same cruel place that jettisoned me here?
Was it? Why should I? Wait, sunshine…I remembered the feelings he
gave me, the new lush green warm world he opened up for me…I had hope I could
possibly find that landscape again, or even make a new meadow in which to
cherish those memories.<br />
<br />
<a name='more'></a><br /><br />
Henceforth, after seemingly endless works, I did find the resolve, and a way
back to the forest I knew, though the paths were all beaten differently, the
earth scorched by the insensitive and the ignorant who burn the world around
them as the only mark they can make. Some walks I now know well, others
remain unexplored, whether doubt or fear or apathy is hindering me, I do not
know. The roads are supposed to be safe, but being so cruelly displaced
taught that nothing in the universe is completely without hazard. I can
always see the chasm beyond the lushness and hear the saline river when I stop
to listen, but I avoid those like disease. I accept no blankets from
friends or strangers, knowing all too well the plagued price I pay for trusting
those who don’t truly fathom where I’ve been. I walk every day, solid and
alone, myself the only real thing I can truly discern, skeptical of every
uncomfortable encounter, each surprise tumble and turn, gleaning every bit of
knowledge I can, divining the useful from the useless when I have the energy to
spare. My plastic austere protects me from the elements above, but my
kinetic feet betray the true danger below. I focus on the horizon like
it’s an attainable goal, stare at the clouds as if they have meaning, and
marvel at how there’s still a sun and springtime in such a cruel parallel
universe where there is no longer unconditional compassion. I soldier on
towards Valhalla, avoiding every urge to fall to my knees, fall into myself and
onto my sword, to fall out of this world through the wormholes of panic that
litter every haunted crossroad.<br />
<br />
The panic, like the rocky depression chasm, is vast, albeit surprisingly
narrow, making it deeper than I know or can imagine. Every instance of
mental & emotional desperation is a deep camouflaged stone-walled well that
I can’t see on the path until I’ve tripped or fallen. There’s a wooden
staircase of thoughts & logic that spirals down the inside, towards the
matte, airless blackness and void. Some of the stairs are sturdy, while
others are broken, carved up, or missing altogether. Most of the time,
the stairs degrade more the farther down they go, worn away by perversion,
misuse, fears, and bad habits. Each well looks slightly different,
augured in different circumstances and techniques, but they all feel the same,
even comforting in their familiarity, like the wolf that hangs back, following
consistently to devour one’s predators and perhaps… When I am not careful
enough to heed the warnings, I stumble into these wells, usually hitting the
first or second stair & alighting there in a moment of surprise and confusion.
I have gotten better at taking small steps & shuffling my feet so that I
don’t plunge right in headlong when I do find it suddenly breaking my
path. Sometimes I realize where I am & simply walk out using the
sound logic at the top. Sometimes I rest for a moment, too tired or
stunned to move right away. Sometimes the need for something familiar,
something I used to have, and the curious hope that It might be down there,
urges me deeper. I edge closer to the center, peering towards the spiral
that disappears like an iris, spiraling into the endless deep dense obscuring
fog. I wonder how deep it is. I wonder how the atmosphere will feel
on my skin if I descend. I wonder what’s really down there. I
calculate the vastness depending on the gravity I feel. I ponder, if like
an eye, that the staircase iris actually rings the black pupil of true sight.<br />
<br />
Sometimes I step farther down, on purpose, hoping to learn what each stair
holds & to feel something correctly. Most of the time I scratch,
crawl, or climb out, resisting the familiar seductions of curiosity and velvety
cool comfort tinged with freeing irrationality that strengthen the farther I go
in. Sometimes I stumble & lose ground; I miss a stair & barely
catch myself, or I trip & miss a few. Most of the time I come out
with a little more knowledge with which to discern the universe, albeit a
little more confused, only a little bumped and bruised by my foray into the
haze, but bolstered with the premonition of an elaborate trap thwarted.<br />
<br />
But sometimes it feels right to go in. Why else would there be
stairs? Did I build them and forget, or did the collective unconscious of
the universe long betrayed leave them there to lead all men to their
demise? Each stair holds a thought, an association, a connection, a
pattern of something and yet nothing that could feel real. The ones
near the top are strong and logical, but they lose soundness, I lose soundness,
in mind and body as in construction and craft, as I descend. Each stair
is a different idea, and as the light disappears they devolve into ephemera
that only makes sense inside the rarified well. They appear to twist and
overlap and intertwine, all part of the larger structure that isn’t merely a
well or stairs, or the battle between knowledge and ignorance, logic and
pain. The planks degrade as I discover them, and it becomes easier, and
more interesting, to descend rather than climb to freedom. Though who
would ever want to leave? It’s close, warm, quiet, protected & calm inside
the well. I’ve been here many times before, after all. Haven’t
I? Is this familiar feeling safety or habit? I could live down
here. Couldn’t I? The parameters are obvious & familiar.
Existence feels attainable. Motion is progress, no matter the
direction…right? When I can’t resist the urge to explore it, when it
feels impossibly right to discover the abyss, I take the steps one by one,
drunk on the seemingly logical rationalizations that lead so succinctly to
justifiable madness. One idea leads to another, grows to another, evolves
to another, until I’m looking back up at the spirals & blinding light above
me, seeing all of the horrible scenarios at once. They appear to make
such a beautiful pattern of lace, albeit tattered, making so much sense from below,
whether I ponder the stairs themselves or the holes in them. Of course,
this is how it has always been. They obscure the combative light that
blinds & hurts me, they enforce my habits via habitat. By this time I
can see so many flawed boards that I feel I can’t possibly climb out, so why
bother? What truly merits effort? Why should I return to the forest
of logic and chicanery, only to be duped again, with yet another well to
explore if I’m not simply shoved in?<br />
<br />
The blackness below obscures the stairs of thoughts nearest the bottom, a
blessing and a curse, as they are by any measure in the worst of
conditions. They’re covered in moss, stones, condensation, corpses,
bones, and entrails…that I can see anyway. It’s easy to slip, nothing to
fall through. One can sometimes discern, sometimes only feel, the
horrifyingly gory and sad despair and ruin… yet they’re fascinating, each and
every stair a diorama of depravity. Singularly and grouped in case
studies of scenarios so bizarre yet so real I know every one possible, just a
step away. I can see every flaw painted with such a fine brush it looks
like a photograph, even as the inky atmosphere swirls through my eyes and lungs
and pores like opium. If I go towards it, what will I learn? How will it
feel? How will it change me? I’ve come this far, can I possibly get
free? Why would I want to when I’m so comfortable and sensible among the
nourishing death and ashen doom that’s as sweet and satisfying and sustaining
as the air? The air that’s MINE down here. The air I know.
Through the lens of the haze I can perfectly see anything I want to…<br />
<br />
It feels natural to descend. Logic spirals, having forgone the burden
of being linear. Down far enough, there is usually a stair that breaks,
designed to leave me sliding, seemingly luring me to the end of it all like the
cleverest of native traps. The substance I mistake for air is so black
and thick I can taste it, and it tastes like blood and white noise. I
slide on moss? tears? offal? tiny wasted bodies trapped
before me? I slide out of the very arms that hold me. It doesn’t
matter. I flail for anything to grab ahold of, afraid of the speed, the rushing
consuming substance coming from nowhere, the screams I think I hear even though
I’m only screaming and talking in my head. I insult every foothold I
miss, every corpse’s hand that doesn’t hold. I look up and can’t even see
the live hands and limbs reaching down anymore...& I don’t care. I’m
so blinded by the sun at the top before the descent obscures it completely.
The rush is so loud I can’t hear instructions shouted by good Samaritans.
The blackness is so turgid I disturb and displace it with my volume and I can’t
even see the logic and light I left behind. I acquiesce. I get used
to the slide. I start to push the obstacles out of my way because they
haven’t helped up to this point. Fear shoves curiosity aside as I realize
this is no longer an amusing mental game; that I’m stuck, I’m sinking, I’ll
never get out. I collapse in on myself, like I’m buried in snow. In
my encasement the cold fear subsides as warm, familiar, peaceful numbness sets
in. I can’t talk. I can’t move. I don’t want to. I
can’t see the top or the people I can only guess are there, trying hopelessly
to reach out to me.<br />
<br />
I fall asleep, the only way I can quell the false logic that has replaced my
every racing notion, praying in the way of an atheist for death, hoping in the
way of a fool that I will regain consciousness in the arms of someone stronger
and braver than I pretend to be. When I wake, if I am careful, my eyes
will adjust in the blackness, my lungs will reject the putrid air, and I can
climb out, hand over fist, carcass over corpse, my head on the precipice of
exploding and imploding, my nails splintering and further damaging each
stair. I slip, sink & flail until exhausted and comatose once again,
awaking only to repeat the cycle of luck verses meticulously planned
ascent. At some point I may realize I miss the the sun, the linear world,
as cruel as it may be, though still not as pointless as the spiral. With
each small victory of correct logic, I replace the fear, the curiosity, the
complacency, the desperation, and the poison of urgent solutions. With
each muscle ache I choose to trade the seductive blackness for the adventure of
banality that awaits, paradoxically reveling in the free will that lured me to
the depths in the first place…<br />
<br />
No matter what I see or what I learn inside each well, once I am outside
again, only one thought enthralls and terrifies: I have never seen the
bottom.<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>Ephemilyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08992437978052500548noreply@blogger.com0