cml
Showing posts with label the bible. Show all posts
Showing posts with label the bible. Show all posts
Thursday, February 28, 2008
Monday, November 19, 2007
Revisited
Today I found a porno-magazine in the middle of the road. It was all alone on the asphalt. The pages were turning one over another, back and forth, exposing young girls and their breasts and asses and more. When my bike tire rolled over the magazine I thought I heard the crunching of dry leaves but as I looked down I saw her. I saw her two legs, pinned down by me now, spread eagled underneath the rubber of my tire. Held there, her legs disjointed, her smile gazing up at me, wet and pink, spread wide across her youthful face. She is clean and pristine and nice but undeniably dirty and corrupted on the page. She looked happy to me. She looks happy to me still. She looked ready to make someone else happy too. “This girl is a giver,” I thought. “Someone who really understands the meaning of altruism. A real tart of empathy.”
Suddenly, I’m passed it and before anything can register I’m hearing the leaves rustling again, pages turning quickly, full of nature and instincts and carnal matters. Did I just see that?
I did. Yes. Yes! And there it is again, and there again! It’s as if some little boys (maybe two or three, let lose from somewhere inside of me) are gathered greedily around it, the magazine, and are flipping glossy pages, silk slick first and then clammy with sweat against their blood-flushed fingers. The pages seem so dry though, so worn there in the road that one more turn by those invisible spit licked fingers might tear the pages, mutilating some poor girl’s body or face and bending staples out of this book’s binding.
I double back and there she is again, and again (or is it now her sister, or her lover?) They’re young and fresh and all different shades of the same well known (or well learned) pinkish hue. But I’m more struck by their faces- each is happy. Everyone is smiling up at me with perfect pearl teeth, high polished on the pages. “What’re you so happy about?” Even their looks of longing and hard-pressed, long waiting glimpses of anticipation seem more playful than anything else. There is nothing these girls are missing. Except, maybe, their clothing. But, I don’t think they even miss those all that much.
The pages keep turning at a heartbeat’s rate and I’m standing over them. My bike is in the grass and I’m in the middle of the road staring down at my feet and her face, and ass, and more, intently and not so unlike Mosses I’m on a mountaintop with God. After all, I’m staring down with my eyes averted from all the people walking past me, from all their disgust, from the drab sky and cold wind that was before in my eyes. But is this so much better or so much worse? I was content today, void of thoughts and feelings until these girls fell underfoot and under tire and flaunted their happy, content, fresh faces in my way. How can I feel sixteen and sexy and stupid all over again? And lost like John the Baptist awaiting god in wilderness untouched, uncontrolled, and all alone before all majesty, at once? How can I feel so old and stupid and decrepit too? These girls are running past me like all girls do, but flipping one by one past me, turning back flips and bending over, wide and low and long, across beds and barn doors and stable walls. They are taunting me and are unkind, and dance past my old, cold weathered stiff bones.
By the grace of God I’ll walk by all this and won’t take off my jacket and fold it over my lap today. Not today. I’m not all that young and uncontrollable and untouched. This isn’t freshman year again, not like every other day has been. I’ll walk by all of this today. Or, maybe I’ll roll it all up tight as her and stuff them in a black back pack. Maybe I’ll save it away not for pleasure, but as a tool, a reminder, a talisman of fall and sex and being young again, or never again, or always still.
Who knows really?
Caleb, 19
Suddenly, I’m passed it and before anything can register I’m hearing the leaves rustling again, pages turning quickly, full of nature and instincts and carnal matters. Did I just see that?
I did. Yes. Yes! And there it is again, and there again! It’s as if some little boys (maybe two or three, let lose from somewhere inside of me) are gathered greedily around it, the magazine, and are flipping glossy pages, silk slick first and then clammy with sweat against their blood-flushed fingers. The pages seem so dry though, so worn there in the road that one more turn by those invisible spit licked fingers might tear the pages, mutilating some poor girl’s body or face and bending staples out of this book’s binding.
I double back and there she is again, and again (or is it now her sister, or her lover?) They’re young and fresh and all different shades of the same well known (or well learned) pinkish hue. But I’m more struck by their faces- each is happy. Everyone is smiling up at me with perfect pearl teeth, high polished on the pages. “What’re you so happy about?” Even their looks of longing and hard-pressed, long waiting glimpses of anticipation seem more playful than anything else. There is nothing these girls are missing. Except, maybe, their clothing. But, I don’t think they even miss those all that much.
The pages keep turning at a heartbeat’s rate and I’m standing over them. My bike is in the grass and I’m in the middle of the road staring down at my feet and her face, and ass, and more, intently and not so unlike Mosses I’m on a mountaintop with God. After all, I’m staring down with my eyes averted from all the people walking past me, from all their disgust, from the drab sky and cold wind that was before in my eyes. But is this so much better or so much worse? I was content today, void of thoughts and feelings until these girls fell underfoot and under tire and flaunted their happy, content, fresh faces in my way. How can I feel sixteen and sexy and stupid all over again? And lost like John the Baptist awaiting god in wilderness untouched, uncontrolled, and all alone before all majesty, at once? How can I feel so old and stupid and decrepit too? These girls are running past me like all girls do, but flipping one by one past me, turning back flips and bending over, wide and low and long, across beds and barn doors and stable walls. They are taunting me and are unkind, and dance past my old, cold weathered stiff bones.
By the grace of God I’ll walk by all this and won’t take off my jacket and fold it over my lap today. Not today. I’m not all that young and uncontrollable and untouched. This isn’t freshman year again, not like every other day has been. I’ll walk by all of this today. Or, maybe I’ll roll it all up tight as her and stuff them in a black back pack. Maybe I’ll save it away not for pleasure, but as a tool, a reminder, a talisman of fall and sex and being young again, or never again, or always still.
Who knows really?
Caleb, 19
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
Tales from the Internets, volume 2
Well, it's that time again... a time to post crazy links, that is. Once again, I got a lot of these from various sources, and I'll try to give credit where credit is due, but I forget a lot of the time where this stuff came from.
One side comment... I understand that it's some sort of marketing ploy to repeat the name of the company/product ad nauseam during a commercial, but it's annoying as fuck. Do I need to hear the word [company name removed to prevent advertising] ten times in three sentences? No, no I don't. I think I need to up my dose or television or something. I'm actually starting to get un-brainwashed by commercialism.
Anyway, on to the links. From the people at Progressive Boink, a hilarious database of Hanna-Barbara cartoon characters. Definitely worth it if you ever watched any of them as a kid (or an adult, I guess). Speaking of which, why the hell did I watch all my parents' cartoons as a kid? Was I the only one?
While still on the subject of cartoons, here's a nice picture of a "realistic" Mario World. It's quite disturbing, really. I have no clue where Caleb found this, either.
This is pretty cool. It gives a new meaning to the idea of bit actors... Ha ha, get it... I really need to stop using these awful puns.
A nice article on Little Leaguers from The Onion. Hey, can you really blame the kid?
For those of you who live around the Detroit area and watch baseball at all, I'm sure you know about Mario Impemba and Rod Allen. While, I definitely don't think they're great broadcasters by any stretch of the imagination, and they certainly aren't fit to shine Ernie Harwell's shoes, at least they have some personality. Proof in point is this little Youtube clip. Someone needs to teach the Japanese about the joys of a baseball brawl. I got this link from Bill Simmons' column, which I highly recommend to any sports fans out there.
Keeping with the sports pattern, here's a list of some of the worst injuries ever. Some of this stuff is just nasty, but it's like a train wreck.
Cylon. I'd be nervous, too... and I'm not sure what the woman is so pissed off about. Battlestar Galactica is awesome.
The Good Book... as told by Denmark. If they had this when I was a kid, I might actually be a Christian right now. I think they should start doing full length movies in Lego. That'd be awesome.
Lastly, a couple of Will Ferrell videos that are must sees: The Landlord, A Hotdog and Space: The Infinite Frontier. "Hey!"
One side comment... I understand that it's some sort of marketing ploy to repeat the name of the company/product ad nauseam during a commercial, but it's annoying as fuck. Do I need to hear the word [company name removed to prevent advertising] ten times in three sentences? No, no I don't. I think I need to up my dose or television or something. I'm actually starting to get un-brainwashed by commercialism.
Anyway, on to the links. From the people at Progressive Boink, a hilarious database of Hanna-Barbara cartoon characters. Definitely worth it if you ever watched any of them as a kid (or an adult, I guess). Speaking of which, why the hell did I watch all my parents' cartoons as a kid? Was I the only one?
While still on the subject of cartoons, here's a nice picture of a "realistic" Mario World. It's quite disturbing, really. I have no clue where Caleb found this, either.
This is pretty cool. It gives a new meaning to the idea of bit actors... Ha ha, get it... I really need to stop using these awful puns.
A nice article on Little Leaguers from The Onion. Hey, can you really blame the kid?
For those of you who live around the Detroit area and watch baseball at all, I'm sure you know about Mario Impemba and Rod Allen. While, I definitely don't think they're great broadcasters by any stretch of the imagination, and they certainly aren't fit to shine Ernie Harwell's shoes, at least they have some personality. Proof in point is this little Youtube clip. Someone needs to teach the Japanese about the joys of a baseball brawl. I got this link from Bill Simmons' column, which I highly recommend to any sports fans out there.
Keeping with the sports pattern, here's a list of some of the worst injuries ever. Some of this stuff is just nasty, but it's like a train wreck.
Cylon. I'd be nervous, too... and I'm not sure what the woman is so pissed off about. Battlestar Galactica is awesome.
The Good Book... as told by Denmark. If they had this when I was a kid, I might actually be a Christian right now. I think they should start doing full length movies in Lego. That'd be awesome.
Lastly, a couple of Will Ferrell videos that are must sees: The Landlord, A Hotdog and Space: The Infinite Frontier. "Hey!"
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