Also - Die Loveparade. Ja, ich war da. Klingt komisch, is' aber so. Mein Bruder wollte unbedingt dorthin, schließlich "muss" man sich das ja mal angucken, wenn so eine große Veranstaltung schon aus Berlin, der Hauptstadt, bis fast vor die eigene Haustür gezogen kommt. Und da er großer AC/DC-Fan ist und auch viel Rock hört und ein Kumpel von ihm, der ebenfalls mitgekommen ist, sogar auf Death Metal steht, dachte ich mir, bin ich auch in guter Gesellschaft. Alex, mein Bruder, meinte eigentlich vorher schon zu mir, dass zumindest die Menschenmassen mit Sicherheit interessant wären, wenn schon die Musik wahrscheinlich nichts für mich wäre. So hab ich mich also überreden lassen, mitzukommen.

Das ist Franky, Alex' Kumpel. Und die Mayersche!

Die aber leider zu hatte. Apropos: Auch wenn an dem Tag die Straßen voller Müll und Schlamm waren, aber so hässlich finde ich Dortmund gar nicht. Gut, der Hauptbahnhof ist nicht der Schönste, aber die Innenstadt finde ich gar nicht so übel. Dortmund hat immerhin eine. Alex konnte auch nicht verstehen, warum Dortmund gerade diesen Ruf hätte, als ich ihm davon erzählte. Er meinte, es gäbe im Ruhrgebiet Städte, die wären durchweg noch hässlicher. Fällt mir nur gerade so ein, wenn ich das Foto da oben sehe. Der Weg zur Loveparade war ja auch ganz lustig, ebenso wie die Zugfahrt, die über eine Stunde gedauert hat. Das hat sogar noch Spaß gemacht.

Das Wetter war übrigens in Ordnung...

Ein kurzer Nieselregen () und "Schwupps" waren die Straßen alle leer. Weicheier, diese Raver. Da fand ich das Wetter bei der UT-Rallye unangenehmer.

Ich hab übrigens großen Wert darauf gelegt, ganz in Schwarz zu erscheinen. Schwarze Turnschuhe, schwarze Jeans, schwarzes Longsleeve. Mit Darkseed. Num musste mal wieder aus der Reihe tanzen.

Ist das nicht ein unheimlich sympathisches Lächeln? Meinerseits, wohlgemerkt. Wenn man jetzt noch von den klitschnassen Haaren absieht. Trotzdem wurde ich nur einmal dumm angemacht, weil ich nicht mitzucken mittanzen wollte. Zucken ja, aber nicht so.

Und sowas nennt sich Loveparade. Ich freu mich schon auf das Stemweder Open Air. Mit Musik nach meinem Geschmack und anderen Leuten. Die zwar nicht weniger bekifft sind, aber was soll's.

Walk and smile cause you are not a dancer
Like those who dance to sounds of coins and gold.
Not your world - primitive and rude...
[...] Burning spirits rising high and I see,
Yes I see, yes I see a flower in you.
When I stare at you I see the dullness gone by,
I am not alone!

Darkseed - Ultimate Darkness

"Ich bin ein Rocker, holt mich hier raus.", so nach dem Motto. Das Lächeln-und-Winken-Prinzip hat hier leider nichts geholfen... *hust*

Two rushing shades meeting face to face,
Dull procedures come and go every day.
A thousand tricks and one thousand smiles, but
Life is not profound.
[...] Another night and even more days to come
And I've to look into mortal faces.
It's just an act of regret and farewell -
We are nothing!
[...] I look at you and wonder:
Is it me whom I see?
I am one of those mortals too,
I'm lost as well as you.
Where is my sympathy?
I'm not one of those
Who're loving life, loving life eternally.

Darkseed - Next To Nothing

Nach nur knapp einer Stunde in dem Höllenlärm da kam das, was kommen musste: Ich bin mal eben aus der Masse raus, um ein Dixie zu suchen. Als ich wieder kam waren Alex und Frankie weg. Tja. Ich hab die beiden dann natürlich noch gesucht, was aber angesichts der vielen Verrückten etwas schwierig war und bin dann irgendwann gegen 6 Uhr geflohen. Richtung Innenstadt, der schönen Innenstadt mit der Mayerschen, die aber leider zu hatte. Zum Glück gab es am Bahnhof noch eine Bücherei, die Ritus und Sanctum in einer Ausgabe mit mir unbekanntem Bonusmaterial hatte. Großartig umsehen konnte ich mich dann leider nicht mehr, weil auf einmal überall Polizeisperren errichtet worden waren und es von Menschen nur so wimmelte. Argh! 1,6 Millionen. Das sind mehr als tausendmal so viele Menschen als in ganze Preußisch Oldendorf wohnen. Ich war kurz davor, bei dem ganzen Gewusel und dem Lärm die Krise zu kriegen.

Nach zwei Stunden kam mir dann der Gedankenblitz: "Hey, du hast doch in einer der vielen Taschen das Familienhandy!" Dooferweise war die Handynummer von Alex, die ich noch hatte, veraltet. Zum Glück fiel mir dann schließlich noch die Vorwahl für Iserlohn ein, so dass Alex über Umwege wusste, wo ich war. Von da an hieß es halt warten. Um 7 hatte ich gesehen, wie der letze Zug gefahren war, nachdem er fast eine Stunde auf dem Bahnsteig gestanden hatte. Abgesehen davon, dass der Bahnhof eh schon heillos überfüllt war, kriegte die Bahn es also mal wieder nicht geregelt, sich an den Fahrplan zu halten. (:mittelfinger:, so to say) Kurz nach Mitternacht kam dann endlich wieder ein Zug nach Hagen, ihr könnt euch vorstellen, was das für ein Andrang war, wenn pro Gleis geschätzte 1000 Leute dorthin wollten. 4 Gleise, 1 Zug. Wir haben's trotzdem geschafft, weil der Zug genau auf unserer Seite stehen blieb.

Nee, danke. Sowas brauche ich nicht noch mal. Immerhin bin ich jetzt um eine Erfahrung reicher. Ich weiss jetzt, dass ich mit Metal und Soundtracks gut bedient bin. Techno ist nichts für mich. Man kann es im Gegensatz zu diesem "Gangster-Rap", der manchmal morgens im Bus erschallt, ertragen, wenn man die Ohren auf Durchzug schaltet, aber ich bezweifel stark, dass es jemals die gleiche Klasse wie Darkseed erreichen wird. Zumindet für mich, aber sowas ist halt Geschmackssache. Ich brauch einfach ein paar E-Gitarren und eine etwas raue Stimme, die auch etwas zu sagen hat. Das macht Metal für mich aus, wobei ich gerade letzteres wichtig finde. Oder eben schöne Soundtracks. Kein Techno, kein Hip-Hop, bei dem sich der IQ im negativen Zahlenbereich befindet und auch keine halbnackten Mädels in ihren Musikvideos, die Pop-Lieder trällern. Da komm ich besser mit dem Gothic-Image klar.  *übertreib*

Poison in the veins of gracious earth,
Creeping mean disease, a bleeding flow.
[...] Loud horns trumpet the end,
Sounds of perverted disharmony.
We are the tyrants within,
This is my burden to carry.

Darkseed - My Burden

Bei MySpace gibt es übrigens einige tolle Lieder von Darkseed, darunter Sleep Sleep Sweetheart und Save Me. I Deny You ist auch nett. Journey To The Spirit World ist etwas ruhiger. Aww, und Stefan Hertrich, der Sänger bei Darkseed, hat ein neues Album von einem seiner Nebenprojekte herausgebracht. Shiva In Exile, sogenannter Ethno-Metal. Klingt etwas seltsam, ist aber gar nicht so schlecht. Der Mann ist toll. Ich bin dann mal weg...

This year's team is so bad, that it is impossible to isolate the one or two things that keeps the team out of contention.  They can't pitch, can't come from behind to win a game, can't run, can't hold a lead and can't close a game out. In short, if you play against this team, you have a 70% chance of winning before you even take the field.  Seventy percent!!!

This team often reminds its fans of what good baseball can be by showing us how bad it can be played.  This team, this year, is horrible and I'm not sure that I actually want to wait for next year's offering.  :(

This blog become a little politically weighty, and it needs a proper one anyway.

Southland Libertarianz

Ero partita con l'intenzione di trattare un solo argomento per volta, ma in effetti queste parole mi evocano ben altre cose...

"Chi va e chi resta", ovvero: chi va, gli altri; chi resta, io.

Siamo in epoca di vacanze, tutti partono, tutti "fanno", chi non fa e non parte qualcosa si trova comunque. Io ho sempre questa dannata sensazione di essere incollata al pavimento, perdendomi veramente qualcosa che invece gli altri bene o male si godono. La sensazione tipica dell'essere ai margini della pista ad una festa danzante. Io sarei quella che declinerebbe ogni invito perchè "non ballo", pur essendo conscia già ancora prima di uscire di casa che "non ballerò perchè nessuno me lo chiederà". Molto emo tutto ciò :asd:

"Chi va e chi resta" in realtà era riferito a quei Dannati. Premessa piccina: da qualche mese sono nello staff di moderatori di un forum. Niente di eccezionale, un forum abbastanza popolato, in media l'utenza è giovane e spammosa, niente di così tremendo (se non fosse che prendo sempre tutto troppo sul personale, ma sarà oggetto di divagazioni in futuro). Qui mi sono fatta qualche amicizia, solo ragazzi, solo più giovani di me. E va bene. Mi sono anche presa una cotta, e questo va già meno bene. Ma anche questa è un'altra storia. Comunque, l'amministratore ha organizzato un raduno l33t di gente del forum selezionatissima, tra i vecchi e gli eminenti del forum, e per qualche inspiegabile motivo venni invitata anche io (ma anche su questo si divagherà di certo). A parte che la sorpresa fu tale che avrei detto di no per semplice riflesso, ho comunque dovuto declinare per ovvi motivi famigliari (altra storia) e per il fatto che mi sarei sentita tremendamente a disagio in compagnia di questi individui, la metà dei quali mi inquietava a morte già solo a leggerla, figuriamoci di persona...

Comunque, costoro sono partiti oggi per Roma e staranno là una settimana. Tra loro ci sarà L., ragazzo d'oro con il quale sto cercando di coltivare una delicata amicizia, una personcina della quale sento di potermi fidare; l'O., colui che mi fece prendere la cotta, M., altro bambinone, N., ragazza tanto gentile che conobbi anche di persona ma che non sono mai riuscita a far entrare veramente nelle reciproche corde. Loro ormai saranno a destinazione già da qualche ora, cazzeggeranno come scriteriati, giocheranno alle console, rideranno e faranno gli scemi, l'O. incontrerà i suoi degni amici, e io non posso fare a meno di pensare e rodermi per quanto sarebbe potuto essere significativo e devastante per me l'incontro faccia a faccia con l'O. Per quanto cerchi di disintossicarmi dalla sua nociva quanto incorporea presenza, è sempre dannatamente lì, mimetizzato in un sottotitolo di un anime, implicitato nel nome della sua città di origine, costante nei post sul forum suoi e degli altri utenti.

Sono riuscita ad ottenere la disponibilità di L. per avere le foto del raduno una volta concluso, ma povero non è al corrente del motivo per il quale mi interessa così tanto avere la documentazione.

L'O. mi fa male, mi ha fatto male e ancora me ne fa, ma mi manca quell'attenzione insalubre che mi dedicava... Ma anche questa è un'altra storia...

i am the type who remembers birthdays and notices when people get their hair cut. so in the last week, i sent out all sorts of little notes of that type. i asked two of them how their first week of grad school went. i asked one whether he finally found a roommate. i asked one whether he enjoyed his visit to ireland's emerald shores. i asked another whether the group members for his semester project have finally started contributing. i asked another how he likes his new job. you know, just little stuff. none of it is important. and i wouldn't care if none of them ever replied; it's not like i actually need to know the answers. i'm just being polite. but when they all don't reply, i shed a little tear. (not really)

There was this art opening, artists-in-labs, this evening. Why do I have this feeling of not belonging? I do belong! I submitted a paper, it was a juried and competitive process at the end of which I was accepted to be here. All fair and square. Furthermore, there are plenty of people here that I know already: Some colleagues from my PhD program, also colleagues from elsewhere, two of my PhD tutors and of course lovely Nina Czegledy, who is such a warm associate to have. It is not like I am forced to stand alone in a sea of strangers. Admittedly when I first started to do this 3 years ago, that first time at Siggraph for instance, that was exactly what it was like... But nowadays I do seem to have earned my laurels somehow. In fact, tomorrow I will be one of the moderators in the Leonardo Education Forum. So what the hell is wrong with me? Why do I feel so uncomfortable, so ill at ease, so displaced? Why am I automatically unhappy in any kind of crowd that involves more people than you can seat comfortably around a medium sized table? Especially a crowd such as the one that was there tonight?

It was lovely. In this really lovely building, with a huge courtyard. There was freshly squeezed juice and a wonderful buffet dinner. And orchids. Singapore is full of them. They grow here like geraniums elsewhere. Still I left while the whole thing was in full swing. Snuck out and walked back to my hotel. I went through what I guess was one of Singapore's hip neighborhoods. Loved it. Sat in a cafe all by myself and had a Diet Coke - hhh. It was crowded of course, but as long as I don't know any of the people, as long as I am anonymous, crowds are ok. In fact, I love them. I feel that I utterly belong in a crowd of people halfway across the globe, that speak a language I have no idea about? So why is it that I feel completely displaced, miserable and heartachingly lonely in a crowd of my peers?

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrgggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!

So, where was I? Oh yeah, the warehouse full of stuff. Well, after that, George was tired and off to bed. Stacy decided to show me the rest of the house. Yes, there was still more. I hadn't yet seen the basement. Which, of course, holds amazing stories all of it's own. Part of which are a couple in their 50's living down there. I'll share about them later. The basement is set up with part of it being a game room, I can't remember exactly what was there, pool table, ping pong table I think. Couple of couches. And the other half is a dining room area, with a kitchen. Well, okay, it's big, so more like a cafeteria, not dining room. This is where they have dinners every week, and where they have services. As in worship, preaching, ministry. I hesitate to call it a "church service" because our brain slips into religious slumber and we have a picture that goes along with those words. But, WE, people, ARE the church, and when we gather together and worship...well, that IS the church worshiping together. I just have a feeling that the Lewis House is not all about a nice, neat and tidy church service, that's all. LOL!

The cafe/meeting area looks pretty rough. Hasn't been remodeled down here yet. I would imagine that most "refined" people (translated:living life for their own purposes) probably wouldn't sit down here eat on purpose. To me, it was SO beautiful! Because of WHO gathers and eats in this room! Which I will get to...don't rush me!

Kelly, one of the interns who was showing us around this level, told us that they just had their first wedding there. Wedding and reception in the dingy basement hall. Now, you probably got married in a beautiful church with amazing windows overlooking some incredible scenery, and sweet church bells ringing afterward. But when you understand who the Lewis House is reaching out to...this was a reason for celebration all in it's own!! I was imagining that the people who were married there probably would have just been standing in a courthouse to get married, had not George married them at the House. I could just imagine the excitement and celebration there the day of the wedding!! So, finally, off to bed. Not like I could sleep, but it was close to 2am, so I figured I had better try.

*The beginning of the Lewis House*

The next morning, I meet Sarah, Georges wife, in the kitchen for coffee. "Sarah", I said, "Tell me how all of this started". I knew I had just opened a door to the most beautiful sunrise in a story I had ever seen, complete with the song of morning birds singing:) Forgive me if I splotch some of the details, and Sarah, feel free to correct me on anything I share. 12 hours is not a lot of time to take in all that I took in that day!! I am so going to have to ask you to tell me this story again, because much of it is already so blurry, except what God burned into my heart.

Sarah tells me that her and George are 26 years old, and have only been married 2 and a half years. Both of them were part of a church in a ministry capacity, as a help to the Minister, I believe. George's mom decided to look for a place for her frame business, and found what is now the Lewis House, up for sale. She bought it, but for some reason I can't remember, asked George if he would like to buy it from her. So, he and Sarah did. But it was a MESS. BIG MESS. If I remember right, it wasn't even livable at the time. They really didn't have anything quite in mind with this house, but knew that God would use it somehow for ministry. The Lewis House just happened to unfold in front of their path one footstep at a time. I don't remember the timing, but I believe this gentleman who has a construction company came to them and said that he wanted to help them remodel this house. A nice well-to-do couple, living in their own nice house. And not only was he going to work on the house, but they wanted to live there, in the basement, while they worked. They were also prayer intercessors. That would be the couple living in the basement. And the remodeled parts of that house are absolutely beautiful!!

*Hot chocolate, peanut butter and jelly, and buckets*

So Sarah is telling me that they still don't quite know what they are doing with this house, but that they have it in their hearts to reach out to people in inner city Toledo. They started off making a giant water cooler/thermos full of hot chocolate down to the bus stops when it was cold, and handing out cups of hot chocolate to the people waiting there. She said many of the people there are physically or mentally impaired. They would give them hot chocolate and just tell them that Jesus loved them. Then their were times they would make peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and go to the parks in the middle of the night and give sandwiches to the homeless people, and eat dinner with them there!!

Another outreach they started, and yes, this is outreach, TRUE outreach, was they took buckets down to this park where a group of Goth teens hung out all the time, and just played music on the buckets, like drums, and sang in the park. She said they were not exactly musically inclined, but the kids would come around. And they began to build relationship with them. That's how they met Naomi. She was a goth kid that they reached with the gospel, and she gave her life to Jesus. Then her mom died. And her dad decided he really didn't want anything to do with her or her brother, so he left. George and Sarah decided to take her and her brother in. They became the first residents in the Lewis House. And Naomi, she was rockin saved! Quite the fireball! And she just joined right in with the ministry that George and Sarah had begun. As I shared earlier, Naomi's part of the ministry is the bread ministry. She takes bread to the homes in the inner city that are in need, and just gives them loaves of bread and tells them how much Jesus loves them, or prays for them, or whatever they need. She's the official Bread Girl now.

*Bring them home*

Sarah said they did this all summer, meeting with those kids in the park, until it started getting cold out. Then they started praying, "God, what do we do now?" God said "Invite them into your home". Her reaction...WHAT??? Those kids do lots of illegal stuff down there!! But God did not relent on what He said. George and Sarah decided they would feed them. They would make a spaghetti dinner on Saturday and invite them all to eat, and have hang out time, and worship and ministry. She said at this time, they barely had enough money to buy their own food, but took $20 and bought the stuff for dinner. She said for a long time, somehow, it was never more than $20, no matter how many people came.

So the outreach and purpose of the Lewis House was started with hot chocolate, peanut butter and jelly, and $20 spaghetti dinners; those who were emotionally and mentally impaired, homeless people, and forgotten kids in a park.

*And two became three*

Naomi and her brother were the first "mission house interns" to live at the Lewis House. Which, let me backtrack. Sarah said that her and George had no intentions of living at the Lewis House. They had their own apartment and were going to keep the house seperate for ministry. Except the cost of living for both places wouldn't allow that, so they also were living at the Lewis House. So, Naomi and her brother are there. They are having a group over every week for dinner and worship. Somehow, I can't remember how, George and Sarah met a crack addict named Diane. Diane had been addicted to crack for 45 years, since she was 10 years old!! Diane gave her life to Jesus, and came to the Lewis House everytime there was something going on. God delivered her miraculously from crack addiction, with no withdrawl!! The only problem was, she still lived in a crack house. So everytime she was go back there, there was nothing but trouble and problems. Diane had been giving her government check of some kind over to a couple of guys at the house who would spend it on crack. Every month. Sarah said that one day Diane was at the Lewis House, and these guys came banging on the door. They wanted Diane to sign the check over so they could cash it and get their drug money. Somehow Sarah convinced them to come back the next day, since the bank was closed. I don't remember if they ever did or not, but that night Sarah decided they couldn't ever send Diane back to that crack house again. She had already been praying about it for awhile, so that was when she made the final decision that Diane was going to stay with them. She was their third intern. And the one who would bring the love of Jesus to the crack houses.

Over the next few months, somehow word must have gotten out about what they were doing. I don't know the details, but they began to get stuff donated to the ministry there. Lots of stuff! Such favor! And they also started taking interns into their program. The dorm area of the house was finished, and I believe they have 5 interns now. All there to go into the inner city and rescue the hopeless with God's love.

*Deliverer*

Diane, Kelly, Eric, Amanda, Jeana, Me, Naomi, George & Sarah @ The Lewis House

It was a good 2 hours past when Stacy was suppose to pick up her friend at the airport in Detroit. We prayed that God had her on an assignment of her own so she wouldn't be upset at the wait! (She did know we were late, so all was well) I didn't want to leave without these people praying for me though. I wanted what they had. I wanted my eyes off of me, off of the "function" of the organization of the church, and onto those who we are called to go into all the world and be God's love to. I was DESPERATE for that!! They all gathered around and prayed over me. I can't really remember what any of them said. But I do remember Diane. The former crack addict. I knew she had a word from God to speak over me, and I told her so. So she came over and stood in front of me and began to pray and prophecy over me. I don't remember at all what she said, but I do remember one thing. Standing in front of me, in a body named Diane, was Jesus, The Deliverer. I recognized Him. I remembered Him. I had met Him before...when I first gave my life to Him. That morning, My Deliverer took my hand and delivered me once again. He walked me out of complacency, out of the four walls of the church, and into the very purpose that I was put on this earth. And I've not been the same ever since.

....and I THOUGHT I was just going to Toledo for an awesome prayer and worship service!

As soon as I have time again, I will write and share about my recent trip to Grand Rapids. To a church without walls.

Yesterday was good anyway, finally got to play WoW again, already I've decided to make an Undead Warrior mainly because the 'Living Impaired' (as they prefer to be called) look awesome! Also their story, to execute the living? Sounds a lot of fun, even though WoW isn't really made for story telling, it just leaves you on the Warcraft series story and then just says, "Off you go!"

Gmod's only ettin boring because people are coming on and crashin the server, I couldn't make anything because everytime I showed up, some fool comes along and spawns 1 too many bams, then shoots 1. If they're all going to Summer Camp then I'll happily build to my hearts content! ^_^

OK! Video time is...

Hah I haven't seen this in a LONG time, along with all this persons other work. (I was sat looking at that cat and managed to type that. O_O)

It just so happens to look like a brand-spankin' new blog.

:3

I'm very excited. XD I like blogs. I'm really looking forward to writing much more often than I usually do. Perhaps it'll keep my writer's block at bay.  I get terrible blockage if I forget to write. O_o

I should introduce myself, no?

My name is Codi Leighe, I'm happily female, and I'm old enough for it to matter, and young enough for it to not. ~_^ I've grown up in the USgAy, and I'm appalled at the ways of econimics, politics, and the general viewpoint of the Americans of today.  Honestly, there's so much more we could be doing, rather than bitch about Marilyn Manson's latest sexcapade, who's doing what drugs, and gossiping about bald celebrities.

Oops, did I just say that?

Anyway, I'm here (not, as in, here on earth; I'm still figuring that one out) to talk about my favorite things, and also to make good arguments about things that bother me.  I'm trying to be more outspoken about topics I come across. Let's see how it turns out, ne?

I like many different things, to say the least. I mostly like books. I own hundreds of books, ranging from the far-fetched science fiction novels you find in the back of your library's little store that aren't published by any known publishing company and look like someone printed it off an inkjet printer, to the mainstream paperback Dan Brown books (no insult meant, Brown-sama).

Yes, I use Japanese honorifics.  I'm currently learning Japanese and I'm trying to remember which honorifics mean what, so I use them in daily life.  It might have something to do with my otakuness, too...

Moving on.

Tonight (well, this morning, really) I watched this documentary called "The Sexual Revolution."  It was fantastic and I was totally inspired.  Honestly, the fact that so many people were clamoring for their rights to sexuality by burning bras, exploiting the playboy bunnies, running around nude, all for the sake of freedom, was awe-striking.  I started crying for the sake of human emotion and human strength.  It's fantastic.

I want to do something that meaningful, you know?  Maybe I can start something as big, as amazing by running around braless (although that wouldn't be very exciting; I'm flat as a board, over here :3).

Some of the people who spoke had done some pretty awesomely risque things. This one woman went and, after she divorced her uptight husband, went off with her boyfriend and had an eight person orgy. She said it was very liberating after such restrictions in her previous marriage. She also learned that this whole sex revolution wasn't about carnal lust - it was about love and spirituality.  People preached sex as love as spirituality, not in a Christian way, and not in a Pagan way. They were just expressing sheer love.

Dammit, that's some pretty hefty stuff.  I wish I'd lived in the 60's. Sort of. I really do like my anime and my video games...

There's this one quote that always strikes me, spoken my Marianne Williamson.

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.

God, to me, can be anything that's spiritually everywhere.  I personally believe in a Goddess - The Great Mother Goddess (from an old Celtic religion) - and it is to she that I look to for guidance, as well as within myself. I do not criticize other's Gods or Goddesses, only give my opinion. :D Please don't be insulted if I talk about your religion in a purely logical way. I only like to analyze for the benefit of having all sides to a story. ^_^

--------

//Shameless Plugs//

I've got some sexy sites here. XD Check 'em out.

My deviantART: http://www.cfleighe.deviantart.com

My Comic (with a great friend!): http://www.linkxnova.smackjeeves.com

Lo stress avanza e la fantasia recede.

Salutiamo tutti gli amici e i lettori, sperando di farci vivi al più presto con argomenti interessanti, o con i soliti delirii... :-P

Today is my father's 51st birthday. Half a Century wow. Happy Birthday Papa!

And I kept on doing nothing but to rant and write absurd entries in LJ as well as spazz about the fandom I'm totally into it. July seems pretty lonesome for me cos it has been a tough month lately. I don't know. Maybe because my 2 Sundays of watching Question? has been replaced by Kansai Juniors which I don't hate. It is just, I need my 2 Sundays of Question? that's why I'm really anticipating August to come.

Speaking of, I just realized I'm no Super man cos I do get tired and hopefully longing for those dogs day I idly sit and do nothing. Those days were gone. I just long those days cos 1 day is not enough for me.

Manilyn is right, being a student is easier than the real world. But, one step to the real world is risking and facing every challenges ahead.

For my MCSE exam, I don't know when the hell it'll start. So, prolly, our instructor wants us to take the exam after 4 modules.

On the good news, hopefully, next thursday will be a public holiday. *crosses fingers*

I need to fix and put Clubbox into Subaru.

In my head, I've been picturing my death. It's always been a curiosity of mine to see if I could die standing up. Not straight standing (I don't think that's a physical possibility), but more like leaning in a corner and locking the legs. Hopefully when my heart has pumped it last pump, and my mouth has been fixed in an everlasting smile, I will pass on, but my shell will remain standing, as if saying 'Hey guys, I'm dead and I'm still good to go.' That's the kind of impression I would like to leave.

Still, there's the chance that my death won't be slow, and that I won't know exactly when I'm going to kick the bucket. Perhaps it's a sudden, unforeseeable death. Maybe I fell down the worlds longest flight of stairs, and after finally reaching the bottom, beaten to a pulp, bruised black and blue, and bleeding from places that I didn't know blood flowed, I would have only seconds to leave a lasting legacy (other than, you know, falling down like a million stairs). It is in this situation that I came to the conclusion that a phrase would best keep the memory of me alive. I read a couple quote sites here and there on the topic, but none of the quotes really fit what I'm about. It was then that I decided to come up with my final words ahead of time, so when the time comes, I will be orally prepared.

Even now, I'm still not sure exactly what they should be. Loud proclamations of ancient mythology or the sense of approaching doom would be a good way to go I think. It would leave everyone in a sort of mental blur; their brains lost between feelings of sadness and fear. It's the kind of reaction that would really tear a family apart. Or there's always the option of yelling out a random phrase that sounds like you're some kind of war hero about to enter his final battle. A phrase such as 'ONWARD... TO EVERLASTING GLORY' or maybe 'YOU THINK THE DEVIL CAN STOP ME?! I ACCEPT THE CHALLENGE!' would probably be good terminal phrases to utter. It is vital that there are as many people as possible around to hear you, which allows for talking amongst themselves after, discussing what the words meant and why they were yelled at such as decibel level. The confusion and worry that you would leave them with would be worth the fact that you are now deceased and about to be buried in the earth.

There is really no final conclusion at this point. I think that in this case, one would have to keep a couple different phrases or ideas in the back of his/her mind, then when the time comes, choose accordingly. If all else fails, I think it would be pretty cool to just start laughing, and then die mid-laugh. Then everyone could say that you laughed yourself to death. Not only is it happily optimistic, but for years and years people will wonder what the fuck was so funny.

Lindsay Mitchell

Back next week sometime.

i finished typing my thesis-paper at the stroke of noon. and you can tell that i'm really working hard because a.) i'm progressively getting nakeder, which happens when i'm furiously writing and b.) i've suddenly got very strong marxist opinions and a decidedly postmodernist vocabulary, which also happens in those circumstances. and that's why i'm in a muscle shirt and underpants, and why i'm fervently arguing that capitalism is witchcraft.

in further news,...

i'm feeling very alone these days. there are two people in my life right now who i care about very much. the one friend i get to spend time with doesn't like me. and the friend who likes me i don't get to spend time with. they're both on dates with other boys as i write - yeah, friday afternoon dates, ugh! c'est la vie, i guess. the important thing for me right now is to keep myself from believing I don't deserve more.

time asks no questions and very rarely gives you any answers - it will go on without you, though, leaving you behind if you can't stand the pace. the word keeps spinning, no matter what is going on, and you couldn't stop it even if you tried. the best part of it all is the danger of living that is staring you in the face.

Oppure la nostra stanza all'ostello che era più o meno 4 metri per 4, con moquette ovunque e il più grosso quantitativo di polvere mai visto in un singolo spazio, con la luce automatica in bagno che non si spegneva mai e l'invasione di musicisti la sera per tentare di aprire la nostra finestra che si è poi spalancata in 3 secondi netti sotto il sapiente tocco di un ingegnere. E i nostri dirimpettai che giocavano a golf in un appartamento apparentemente infinito mentre facevano le polpette e guardavano una misteriosa partita di calcio esultando e ballando in giro. E gli ascensori che non arrivavano mai.

E poi quel primo concerto in quell'incrocio tra un museo e una serra, con le statue greche finte e un giardino di palme simil coloniale inglese sotto una volta da duomo, un caldo atroce e un palco minuscolo. E quel figo che piangeva mentre cantavo il mio solo. E quella signora che sorrideva contentissima mentre facevamo "Laudate Dio", seduta accanto a un ragazzo con una camicia rosa e bretelle bianche che si reggeva le guance con le mani.

Oppure potrei dire di quel secondo concerto in cui la voce mi era andata a puttane ed ero in panico totale, eppure ce l'ho fatta ad emettere una cosa decente per tutto il tempo. Quel direttore brasiliano che era seduto in prima fila e faceva praticamente luce talmente era esaltato. Il nostro direttore "No ma se non ce la fai basta che me lo dici, tesoro mio bello!".

E quella sera del concerto dei ghanesi? La gente che ci aveva sentito cantare ai concerti che si metteva ad applaudire quando passavamo "ah, it was BEAUTIFUL". E poi io e la Crystal a ballare per strada e poi su per quattro piani di scale senza smettere un attimo, perché visto che non avevano ballato gli africani dovevamo sopperire noi in qualche modo.

Passare il songbridge seduta da parte a un Ivo esaltatissimo dal nostro successo, che mi raccontava mille aneddoti di tutta la gente che aveva conosciuto in quei giorni, quel direttore australiano che gli aveva chiesto se eravamo un coro professionale, quell'altro esperto che pensava fossimo i migliori bambini da tutto il mondo riuniti per l'occasione in un coro...

Poi dovrei ancora dire di quell'ora passata al Tivoli Garden con il direttore brasiliano dagli occhi d'ambra incontrato per caso e che ci ha chiesto di autografargli il cd, che mi ha fatto duemila complimenti, che mi ha accarezzata, rassicurandomi sul fatto che non ero per niente vecchia (sono la più vecchia del gruppo :D) e che ha cantato con Milton Do Nascimento...

Del concerto all'opera di Copenhagen, delle 1500 persone che c'erano lì, di come i riflettori ti accecano quando sei lì tu, da sola, con una candelina in mano, e ti tremano le gambe... Di quando il pubblico fa una standing ovation a un coretto svizzero che in patria assolutamente nessuno si fila...

Un post troppo lungo, troppe cose da dire, un solo World Symposium on Choral Music a Copenhagen, una sola passione.

Das passiert aber sicher nicht.

Hab mir erst letzte Woche wieder 6 Bücher gekauft und obwohl an das Wohnzimmerregal erst angebaut wurde ist shcon wieder kaum noch Platz....

They …they are the gophers in my backyard.

It is a battle for dominance which has been going on for half a decade. I have technology on my side and have modified my rules of engagement based upon their battle strategy.  In the beginning, I attempted to win their hearts and minds by trapping the little rodents and re-locating them (my neighbor's swimming pool was considered and rejected). This act of kindness was rewarded with, you guessed it, more gophers and destruction in my backyard.

It was clear that a surge of force was necessary to restore order to what had become an unsightly and embarrassing mess in my garden. My wife suggested that the escalation of effort would not be necessary had I left the gophers alone in the first place. After all, it wasn't her garden and the nearest gopher tunnel was 60 feet from the house. I had to remind her that it was better to fight these animals on their territory at the time of my choosing rather than finding them invading our living space.  She threw her arms in the air and suggested that I must have been dropped on my head when I was little because according to her I was not operating on all cylinders. 

She, of course, was wrong. And it was clear that I would have no allies in this action and must go forward alone.   Unlike hers, my vision was clear.  She simply did not understand that force, when used, must massive, unrelenting and devastating.  Half-ass force can get you all the way killed as we used to say in the Marine Corps.  I knew what I had to do. I had to raise the level of violence to a point that made it untenable for the gophers to remain. 

At first, during the surge I used poison bait, then death traps, but the gophers kept on coming. I have, since,  resorted to using poison gas and I am now able to report that I can see some progress. It appears that my surge is working. The gophers appear to be on the run. Sadly, the cost of conducting this war has taken a toll on my economic state of being. Funds used to wage this war cannot be used to raise my standard of living or improve my education or give me access to better health care.  I also find myself in the position of trying to prove a negative. The only way I will know that I have won this war will be by the absence of gophers in my backyard. Yes that means exactly what you think it means. I win because something doesn't happen.

But I'm going to stay the course because I've invested too much in defeating the gophers and I know once I stop my efforts; the gophers will invade my home and destroy my way of life. Death to the gophers and God bless America.

It has been nearly 5 years since Steve Bartman's incident at Wrigley field, but apparently Bartman still feels his life is in danger. Bartman has decided to turn down the offer of $25,000 to autograph the infamous photo at The Nationals on July 31st. His family representative says, "It's just another shameless commercial stunt". Even if it is, the money that the autographed photo would have sold for would have been given to a Chicago based charity. The autograph was estimated to have been sold for $100,000.00.

Bartman, who has kept low profile since that fateful day, once turned down an offer "well into six figures" to simply appear in a Super Bowl commercial.

Well, I know that most people have moved on since he ruined the game for the Cubs, but I know people will now hate him again for being a coward.

Way to go, Steve.