George Aar

"Maybe women get more like men as they age. I wouldn't mind the physical relationship but don't want the emotional entanglement of a committed relationship." Huh, that's odd. I get to where I'd like the committed relationship, but don't much care for the physical part so much anymore. Hell, you can find sex anywhere, if you really want it. If all else fails, you can always buy it, if you get too ugly. It's the silence that overwhelms me at times. Hours or days without speaking. Hell, you'd think I was a farking monk. I can yell at the dog I guess. She doesn't talk back though. Mostly just cowers in the corner. Worthless goddam mutt. Damn it, I wish she'd just die. What the hell, she's deaf, almost blind from cataracts, incontinent (oh joy!) and does nothing but sleep anymore - oh and chew on herself. How did I end up caring for her? Isn't that just special... Life is weird, ain't it? I don't think we always get what we deserve. I used to, but not so much anymore. I think we get what we get. Sometimes it's merited, but mostly - not so much. Do westerners really deserve to live with the material abundance they have? Doesn't seem like we did anything all that great. And surely the Biafrans didn't do anything to deserve their lack. But, so it goes. Morbidly obese Americans driving their Lexuses (Lexi?) out to the all-you-can-eat buffet after a hard day of pecking at a computer keyboard while the Nepalese herdsman shivers in the cold after a meal of scraps our dogs wouldn't eat. Incongruities abound. God obviously loves Americans more than those other worthless heathens... It's Friday so I went out to dinner. "How many?" asked the hostess, as if she couldn't tell. "Uh, just me" "Oooh" she replied, barely masking her annoyance. "Well, you can have a seat at the bar" Yeah, just what I wanted. I amuse myself with the picture of the thoughtless little wench spending an extra decade or so in pergatory for her casual dismissal of a pathetic old jerk. Gee, religion really CAN be a comfort. So I sit at the bar trying to enjoy my "GenuINE Cajun Cookin'" and sipping a Bloody Mary. The goddam brass rail is half missing below my feet and one foot keeps falling off the end. What the hell were the jerks thinking of that designed THAT? I'd a fired their asses in a minute, I think. I was going to tell the bartender what a stupid design it was, but I held my peace. So, after a few minutes of solitude, my mere presence attracted another dumpy middleaged guy over to the bar. Oh fer Chrissake! Do I LOOK like a fag, goddammit? "No, I'm not interested in you, your politics or what you do in your spare time pal. Would you mind so much just leaving me the hell alone?" Gawd, something else to hold against my ex - leaving me vulnerable to unwanted advances. I haven't had a gay guy hit on me in decades. And, gee, I really haven't missed it at all. So, it was time to go home. A full 35 minutes out to dinner, whooppee... I watched the last of my close friends slowly slip away this week. 68 and one of the original hippies from Seattle. He lived life pretty much like he wanted I think. But how lonely it must be to lay in your deathbed, assured of your fate, and your last few friends and loved ones standing around your bed wringing their hands and making well-meaning, but ultimately pointless gestures, to try to ease your pain. But death is a helluvan equilizer. It cuts through all the B.S. He knew what was happening, what was in store for him, but was in so much pain he couldn't tolerate much imput. We had to stay quiet and just watch him fade away. Which he did, quite quickly. After he died, I just stared at him awhile. I was sure he was going to wake up and start talking to me. It seemed like he should. But death takes no prisoners. And it's one of the few things that's really final. So now he's ashes and his wife is desperately trying to find some significance in his death, some reason for such a heartrending event. Trivial events take on noteworthy importance, simply because of what ELSE was happening at the time. What he said, how he looked, what others said and did became vital information, even though they changed events not a whit. I could see her grasping to make his death more meaningful, and I tried to humor her as best I could. Eventually we all just burst out in nervous laughter. It was so odd, futile, and unfamiliar. So often people who have little or nothing to do with another's life become the most important players in it, often totally unwittingly. I'm sure he'd have never thought that I would be one of the last people to hold his hand, or give him a hug, but there I was. And when I've had life-threatening situations come up, I've usually been surrounded by strangers - fortunately for me, they were good-hearted ones. And the people that I've trusted over the years to really be there when I needed it? Well, they're not around. Maybe I should pick my friends with a bit greater care? Sooner or later life will break your heart, I think. It can be exhilerating, depressing, often boring, but mostly I think life is odd. Just odd...

If you can catch a bit of Julia Sweeney's "Letting Go of God" you may find it thought provoking. I know I did. A highlight for me was her line "Jesus didn't die for your sins, he had a really lousy weekend for them" and other pithy comments. I found her to be painfully honest and open about her search for spirituality, and her failure at finding it. It was kinda refreshing, especially in contrast with all the smarmy "witnesses" testimony of their heartfelt conversions and the like. For the true believer, it will likely be irksome and irritating, but for those that have their doubts, I think you'll find it rather liberating.

I'm gonna get in line tomorrow! No, maybe tonight!

I think I'd make an enormous statue-monument of a bottle of snake oil with a simple inscription at it's base: DON'T

Don't know as any of yas will ever need this advice, But, if you're ever in a situation where you have to shoot a bear, aim for the end of his nose. That's your shot. Anyplace else and you're likely to just wound him and put yourself in even greater peril. A shot in the end of the nose puts him down immediately. Not an easy shot, I know, but it's still your best.

And on the other hand, If - once you die - you simply STAY dead (a very likely scenario from where I sit), is that going to be so bad? You'll never know the difference...

All I remember is a dirty old man, pretending to be a preacher, who spent a goodly amount of time editorializing on this verse, and who managed to slip in all sorts of innuendos regarding what it really meant. (wink, wink, nod, nod, "We know what it really means, don't we ladies?{wanna slip out to the coach and give me a foot massage?})" Sorry, I don't have anything constructive to add...

But it can certainly cast some doubt on it. Especially if you consider that the "message" was concocted by the "messenger"...

I hate to show my utter ignorance of such things, but... I know it's the "New England" Patriots, but whereabouts are they actually from? I mean like, what city? Boston? Providence? New Haven? Sandwich? Manchester maybe? And the Giants, uh, I know there's a baseball team by that name, I think in San Francisco. Is the football team from there too? (I've heard "New York" mentioned, is that where they call home?) The game IS today, right? Yes, I have a little catching up to do before I'm a die-hard fan...

Oh, and just wondering about your shower curtain, shouldn't the shadow look more like Anthony Perkins instead of Janet Leigh? (Yeah, I know, pretty important stuff)

Just a wild guess here, but I'm betting that the hamburger in the picture didn't come out of a can. Yeah, and what's the point of "getting away from it all", if you can't take a goodly portion of it along with?

Indeed. Every now and then I'm overcome by the lunacy of it all. Just what was it we were trying to do in WayWorld anyway? What the hell were we trying to accomplish? What was so important that we had to drop everything and run off to tend to that instead of our own lives? I really don't know. Instead of getting a REAL education, or building a career, a family life, a connection to friends, family and community we spent our time basically amongst strangers and doing NOTHING of any significance. Yet we thought it was so important, so overarching, so crucial. And in reality we were just memorizing an arcane, often bizarre mythology and promoting the product and success of an amoral conman. "Yeah, rube, come to Mississippi and stack my firewood for me, you subserviant worm. And I'll teach you the tremendous truths that only I can impart." To which I can only say "F#$% you, junior" (Sorry, I thought I'd worked out most of my leftover bile from WayWorld, but now and then another little bit still boils to the surface)

Uh, yeah, unlike NOW, when everything is just fine...

And also on the plus side, Vickles, Like John Lennon said, there's nothing to kill or die for. And fanatic parents won't have a reason to abuse or even kill their children due to fear of "demon possession" or other such claptrap. And horny young Muslim men won't be repressed enough to think that their only hope of getting laid is to fly airliners into skyscrapers. And I'm sure there's lots of other benefits from not hanging onto irrational "faith". I'm getting closer to thinking that believing in things that you don't have adequate proof for is nigh unto immoral. Just think of all the millions of people that have died needlessly because of the demands of one fictitious being or another. All those that have been enslaved, persecuted, and murdered because they believed in a different tinkerbell than the folks with the guns (or more and bigger guns) did. I tend to think we'd all be a lot better off if we accepted the possibility that this just might be our only ride on this merry-go-round, and that if we can't get along with one another now, there ain't gonna be any heavenly arbitration at a later date to sort it all out. Living 60, 70, 80 years may not seem like enough, but, honestly, doesn't living FOREVER seem a whole lot WORSE?

And the God we've been sold simply can't be all-powerful AND all-loving. He'd have to be one or the other, but not both. Otherwise how could you explain a dead baby? You could do what religions do and resort to spin control "God HAD to let that baby die or he wouldn't be a JUST God!" - and other similar meaningless drivel. That sort of crap is probably the biggest thing to put me off of living in believerville. And WayWorld did all sorts of it. It just doesn't show up on my radar anymore. Why should it? There seems to be nothing I could do to please a being so superior to me, and it certainly doesn't seem like I can curry favor with him in anyway. And there doesn't seem to be any impact on my life no matter what superstition I may hold on to - nor anyone else's - from what I can perceive by my senses. Isn't that why religions are always so disposed to telling you to disregard your senses? "Yeah, just believe this HOLY writ here. THAT'S got the only REAL answers!" Except it doesn't. It doesn't really answer anything. It just puts your focus on the unperceivable, the intangible, and lets you imagine that you're really tapped in to something much bigger than anyone can fathom. Great! So superstition feeds your ego and gives you comfort at the same time. I guess that's why folks choose to hang onto it, despite the dearth of ANY real supporting evidence. I prefer my reality without the garnish, TYVM. As Carl Sagan said, I'd rather know a hard truth than be comforted by a pleasant fable.

Indeed it does...

Please explain OM. I really find this interesting (read "laughably absurd"). If you read the ENTIRE site, nowhere does it give even a hint of what the participants will be doing or learning (- well - other than it looks like you're going to be expected to stack some dweeb's firewood for him - oooo, won't that be a learning experience). What would possibly move you to think that this will be an "awesome" experience? If they've put as much thought into their program as they have their website, well, I wouldn't be expecting much.

Well, more like the 60s. (I think it was on from '57 to '65 or so) Yes, that's Stan Boreson and his dog "No Mo" ( a take-off of the name of a fast hydroplane from the Seattle area the "Slo-mo-shun" that set several speed records in the '50s) I was a proud member of "King's Kartoon Klubhouse" with Stan and No Mo, and SpaceNik and Pequita and numerous other "regulars" he had. I think it would be regarded as pretty tame entertainment by today's standards. Mr. Boreson also had a chain of music stores where you could learn to play the accordian (I swear I'm not making this up). There was one about a block up the street from my house. I've actually met the man at some store opening (an appliance store or something equally prosaic IIRC). But from my experience, and from all accounts I've heard, he's a thoroughly good guy. A great sense of humor (Scandinavian humor is his mainstay) and just all-around nice guy.

The very fact that we can't even tell if that is a parody site or not should speak volumes, uh, if anyone's paying attention. And yes Jonny, I think it should be perfectly fine for people to be used and abused, just so long as the abuser has a "pure heart"... And - assuming for a moment that the "Sowers" are on the level, just what IS it that the participants get out of the deal? I mean, they've established that the "overseers" (Great term to use in Mississippi - of all places!) have the right to accept or reject anything the participants may or may not do (be ready to work "outside your comfort zone!" - HA!) or throw them out altogether. And they're not allowed to have pets or get married, or - on and on.... But WTF do the players get out of the deal?(!) I don't see ANY benefits mentioned, other than, I guess being taught the goals. GOSH! Where do I sign? He obviously didn't learn much from gramps. This is how it's done junior. Lure the marks in with SUGAR, THEN put the hammer down. Sheesh, this is "Cult Leader 101" stuff. You're not going to make the cut at this rate. You're welcome...

Yeah, I don't know about you, but the inconsistencies, the bizarre "miracles" and signs that I guess Christians are supposed to accept, and the overall foolishness of it all eventually got to me. I'm not saying that there is no God, I couldn't prove that one way or the other. But the God of the Bible is certainly nonsense, near as I can tell. And I don't know of any other ones put forth that make any more sense either. It's not so bad once you get used to it though. It is what it is. No sense getting too worked up about it.

I tend to look at Christianity in general as being a cocoon. A thumb to suck, a skirt to hide behind, a rabbit's foot to rub. Funny, you mention the "cringing" feeling Waysider. That's the way I've ALWAYS felt around religious stuff of any sort. As a 6 year-old boy, walking into the sanctuary of the Lutheran Church in Duluth, MN., I got that cringing, creepy sensation. We'd sing hymns, or pray or have communion, or any of that drippy religious stuff, and I'd get creeped out by it. And religious music of ANY stripe (Wayfer or non, independant or mainline) is all majorly creepy to me. I guess it's the phonyness of it all that gets to me. We all know that we have no real proof of any of what we're espousing, but we go on blathering about how much Jesus loves us, or whatever the tenet of the moment may be. It's seems like blatant roll-playing to me. And keeping up the veneer of holiness just gets real tiring. I just can't do it. It requires too much effort to keep the delusion alive after awhile. I don't know how the true believers do it...

I'd haveta answer "no" to all three. There has never been a single case of any sort of paranormal activity of any kind that has had anything even approaching definitive proof. It's always anecdotal at best. And, more often, PROVEN definitively to be false. Yet, these minor inconveniences will never dissuade the true believer. People LOVE to believe in tinkerbells and ghosts. There's no talking them out of it, I guess...

Hai, masago to hoto no tomago onagaishimasu I wonder if we're all destined to grow more disappointed and cynical as we age, or if that's just my gift?

Yeah, so I finally watched the clip dooj. Irony doesn't begin to say it. "It's all for the best!" shouted from the top of the WTC! Looks like a vile movie anyway, but a really creepy scene there...

Yeah, I was spouse corps too. Didn't have a convenient blank to fill in fer that. Damn, I love filling in the convenient blanks. Being spouse corps was somewhat similar to having a mildly contagious social disease. People thought you were cool till they saw the "sp" on your nametag. Then they'll chilled considerably...