Out of the darkness, and into the night

Finally, the triumphant return of yours truly has come. Toiling away in the pits of the 6th level until something worthy of making the arduous trek through the depths back up tp the surface has come about. I wont bore you with the gory details of my journey through the bowels of the Inferno, but sufficed to say, it would make a damn good story. Maybe next time. I tell you dear readers that I have found a job, albeit not the 100k a year type, but it puts me back to work instead of at home driving my wife and cat crazy.

  I recently aquired gainful employment at a little shop called Heroes and Fantasies. Luckily, I fall into both of those categories. Well, one or the other depending on who you talk to.  Anyway, I have been working here for about a month and a half and couldn't be happier about a steady paycheck. Now, lets just get a few more karaoke shows a week and we will be all set for world domination. 

Just wanted to check in and let you all know that I'm still kickin chickens out there in the real world.

Until next time, its back to the pit for me..

We came, We saw, We kicked it's ass!

Well, what am I to do?

     I've been pondering the idea of writing a novel, screenplay type thing. In fact, I have already started. But I have reached a plateau. I am at a cross roads in my writing, and I am reaching out into the inter-webs for help. I could write a ripping good yarn about working in a Head Shop, somewhere in the vein of a Thompson  fear and loathing masterpiece, or some ridiculous crappy teen horror story. I suppose of I change names and locations of events, I can't get sued by some former co-worker for using their likeness without their permission right?

    

 I can smell the movie profits from here...

On a slightly less profitable note, I still don't own the Ecto-1, and I think that bothers me more than anything. At the age of 11, I was sure that by the time I was 30 i would own a caravan of Ecto-1's as well as a different Ghostbuster uniform for every day of the week.  Alas, how the weight of the world has broken my spirit! Meh, I'm down but not out.The folly of youth tells me I have plenty of time to get my mitts on a driveable Ecto-1. I close my eyes and see a future where I am driving my children to school, baseball practice and dance lessons in a sleek, shiny Ecto-1, sirens cutting through the early morning air like a glorious trumpet from the heavens, calling all who hear it to rise and begin their day. 

     There I sit, behind the wheel in my chariot of paranormal investigation and elimination cruising down the city streets and highways, sunglasses on, windows down, radio up turning heads as I go.  The sweet smell of freedom and protons charging fills my lungs as I pull into the school, my son or daughter sitting in the front with me, filled with the solemn pride that is theirs in knowing that their father, is the best and coolest dad ever, and they love when I take them to school in my totally awesome car.  While my wife, falls in love with me all over again, every time I pull out of the driveway in my big beautiful American Dream mobile.  I see her standing on the front porch, watching me drive away, the look of love and awe covering her face, her eyes well up with teary pride as I turn on the flashing lights, her knees go weak at the sound of the sirens.I stick my arm out of the window and wave as I drive away, I glance in the rear view mirror and see her waiving back and blowing kisses.  Every night is like a honeymoon, everyday a winning lottery ticket. 

     Years flash befor my eyes, and I see myself and old man. My son/daughter have families of their own now. They are too busy to go for rides anymore. They have cars of their own with no flashing lights or sirens. Drab, boring, economical cars.Instead of driving them to school, Im driving it to the grocery store, or to the golf course, or to take my lovely wife out for dinner and a movie. She tells me she loves me, and is so proud of our children and the way things turned out. Our daughter with her Presidency, successful movie career, and her husband,( who I still don't like but tolerate because my daughter loves him) and our son, the grammy winning musician who has sold more albums than Elvis and bought us Dharma Island to retire on, winner of the Nobel Peace Prize for his work to end the tension in Iran, bringing the world into a thousand year peace.  She kisses me softly as we park the Ecto-1 in the sand and watch the waves of the ocean creep softly onto the land and then swiftly sweep back out to sea. The moon is full and shines bright on the surface of the water, illuminating the shoreline for miles in both directions. I look into her eyes, and my life with her and the happiness floods my mind. The low hum of the Ecto-1 motor is almost silent over the wind rushing by us, sweeping across the vast coast. I look at my wife, kiss her gently and hold her tight against me. She smiles and flips the switch on the dashboard of my beloved Ecto-1. We watch in awe as the car transforms into the Black Pearl, her full black sails filling with the wind, as we stand at the front of the ship, the splash of the crisp water splashes against my cheek. I look out onto the horizon, a dark blue mystery, and smile as we sail off into that undiscovered country together. A childhood dream realized, a life complete and full. I still hear the sirens in my mind, as I close my eyes and venture off into that undiscovered country, my wife sailing there beside me.

Immortality

     I've sometimes wondered about the true meaning of immortality. When we are shown immortality in movies, television, comics, books, etc. we see a character that does not die no matter what happens, or we see someone who has become immortal through death such as a vampire for example. The thought of living forever is shown all throughout human history,  there have been stories of the ones who cannot die. Obviously, in this bloggers opinion, these stories are told to us because we are, in fact, going to die.
     I read the book "American Gods" by Neil Gaiman about 2 years ago, and it got me thinking. These Gods in the book, while able to live for a long time,( much longer than the regular, everyday asshole), are still in danger of shuffling off the mortal coil.

This gave me pause.

     The Gods lived on for so long in the New World because their stories were carried over into America, and so, the Gods themselves traveled to America in the minds of the people who believed in them. It was only when the last of the followers died, did the Gods truly fade into non-existence. The memory is what kept the God alive. As long as someone still remembered them, they wouldn't fade into the mist. As stated earlier,  this gave me pause. It is possible to obtain immortality without having to go through some ridiculous test of strength and faith. We are remembered in the minds of our friends and family, as well as the minds of our enemies. We live rent-free somewhere in the memory parts of the brain, immortal in impervious to anything until we are forgotten.
     Interesting theory I know, if only for the warm fuzzy feeling that we get when we think of the ones we love that have rode on ahead on the trail of life. They live on in our hearts and minds, for as long as we choose to carry them there.
     So, the next time you feel sad, about the fact that you are going to die, and you haven't met a vampiric savior who will grant you the gift of the undead, remember that while you may not be physically down the street, you will still have a home in someones heart, and there, you change from a simple mortal into something much greater, something much more powerful. You turn into an idea. And while you can kill a man, you cannot kill what he stands for.

One more thing.

     I realize after going back and reading my post from yesterday that I may have been a little misleading in my lamentations.



I AM OK :)

No worries, you're  not getting rid of me that easy. Nothing new to report today, just the same ol' fiery mess down here on the 6th level. For those of you curious as to what the "6th level"  is in reference to, I urge you to investigate the works of Dante. Maybe that will shine a light in the right direction for you. I was looking on my stats for my blog and I have 5 readers in Russia and one in Germany. In the spirit of global hospitality I say:  привет  and Hallo!!!


Enjoy the breaking of the language barrier. That's about as far as it will go I'm afraid. I may try to publish one or two blogs in another language, but I'm afraid of butchering another language.




More later, gotta go see a lady about a bush trimmer.

Stuck

                                                               "  I did my best, it wasn't much
                                                              I couldn't feel, so I tried to touch
                                                    I've told the truth, I didn't come to fool you
                                                            And even though it all went wrong
                                                              I'll stand before the Lord of Song
                                                        With nothing on my tongue but Hallelujah"

     Well, thanks to some well placed punches and a swift kick to the throat, I am back on the cobbles. completely unsure of my future. However I must point out that, I've only ever been sure of three things. I love my wife, I love my family, and 'm pretty sure that I missed my chance at being famous about 10 to 15 years ago. I didn't even realize that it had passed me by. Since I missed the boat, there's no harm in telling you how I had an idea in high school about a serial killer cop-like character. I wont say any names Dexter, but the idea was somehow taken from me, and made into a hit television program on Showtime called.....Weeds.
    Regardless of the past, I don't want to go back and do things over, I want to go forward into this Brave New World and do what I can with the time I have been given, so that when I am on my death-bed, I don't look back and say I have regrets and squandered everything. My father was taking classes at Brazosport College when he died, trying to make a better life for himself and his family. I wonder sometimes, if he ever felt the same feeling of failure that I do sometimes.  Aimless. Lost.
     I'm not looking for sympathy here, I"m just trying to discern my feelings on the subject of me. I had a dream a few nights ago, and in this dream, I was walking through a large room, filled with the cartoon characters I loved  as a kid. the smurfs, Batman, the Ninja Turtles, but there was one that was there that while a cartoon, this one was from the movies. Dan Aykroyd from the Ghostbusters was in the middle of the room wearing his Ghostbuster uniform including the Proton Pack. there, amongst dozens of animated  memories was one live action Ghostbuster. I walked staright to him and hugged him.  In my dream, I hugged a Ghostbuster. I know some will laugh and I am sure to get ridiculed by my brother and others about this, but I don't care.  I want to know why I felt the overwhelming happiness I did in that dream. Is that what I am meant to do? Be a Ghostbuster? Because, I could do that. It's just too bad that Para-psychology isnt a field that is in high demand.
     Its enough to make a guy scream. In all of this,  all I want is to make enough so at the end of the day, I dont feel as though I have just been working to pay bills. Its hard enough working a job you hate, but having to work a job you hate and then having nothing to show for it at the end of the day is insane.
So what the hell is a fella to do? I can't be a criminal, I'm too afraid of prison.  I wouldn't make a good doctor,( just trust me on this one).
      Maybe I could be a writer, and do some work for an internet news site or what have you. There was a time when I was younger that I may have been called to the ministry, but these days I don't think they would enjoy my thoughts on the subject. The years of working with the cynical in a cynical world has made me the cynic that I am. Any way you slice it, I think there is only one thing to do.
   
 

How a Raven is like a Writing Desk.

I've often paused while driving, or stopped mid-sentence to consider how a raven is like a writing desk.  Its one of those mind clearing questions like " What's the sound of one hand clapping?" Or, "If a tree falls in the woods and noone is around, does it make a sound?"  These questions have no answer. No doubt these are questions pondered on Laputa (Gulliver's Travels). Perhap its pondered in other parts of the world, maybe in the darkest corners of Africa or the Amazon, they have discovered the answer to this all consuming question.
 
Then again, it may just be the ravings of a man using laudanum to cure headaches.

  Either way this blogger, with the blessing of his majesty, shall take up the noble cause of questing for the answer to this question: "How is a raven like a writing desk?"
I will not stop until I know the answer.

God wills it!

And the descent begins.

     Lately, I have been spending too much time on the third level, with all the little piggies. Granted its been for a good cause. Employment opportunities just don't fall in your lap, sometimes you have to go after them. I have decided, that in order to find the drooling beast that is a new job, I will have to hunt for it. That journey of a thousand applications has begun in earnest, on the interwebs where I find myself among the legion of faceless, internet users, just trying to find a way to make an honest buck.
     I've always hated the search for jobs. It leaves me with a sense of unyielding stress. The endless searching for that one chance to stick my foot into the entryway of some sort of reputable establishment my most recent foray into the financial world has proven to be, for lack of a better word, taxing.  The financial gods do not show favor with me and have cast me out of their fiscal paradise. leaving me to travel the wilderness of employment. A "Mad Max" if you will. Armed with a  stunning resume, rugged good looks, and a willingness to try anything once, How can I lose?
WELCOME TO THE THUNDERDOME!

As it turns out, I have to fight for the positions I want and be able to defeat the terrible foe that is the "Pre-Employment  Questionnaire"My oldest foe. My nemesis. the Moriarty to my Holmes. Your broad covering, generalized questions make me want to vomit, and explain myself in great detail. Not everyone is cut from the same cookie-cutter cloth you Briggs-Meyers devotee bastard.  I'll be the best employee you'll never have. And so, here I am,  striving to achieve the golden ring that is the American Dream. Wondering if the apocalypse will come before my next interview and save me the trouble. I have my zombie attack plan ready to implement in the case that the dead, however slowly, begin to walk the earth. In which case,  if video games have taught me anything, I am sure to come out on the other side a bright, shining example of #winning