Coming to terms with being human.


The Joy of Cable Cutters

My bike was stolen yesterday. It was a great vehicle, there was history behind it. Thankfully, I've been pretty Zen these past few days, so I wasn't angered by the theft, just disappointed.

The bike was becoming a big part of my life. I've been attempting to live more slowly. I cook more. I read or mosaic instead of watching the television. There was a time when I lived life at a more comfortable pace. I'm trying to return there.
So the bike was important. I was riding it to school every day. The college is a twenty minute bike trip away from my new place. It was nice arriving for class with a quickened pulse. Physical activity seems to be good for me, who would of thought it.
Now it seems I can either walk to school (a 45 minute adventure) or drive my car (a 45 dollar adventure if gas prices keep rising). I would like to say that hoofing it is a definite, but I know myself too well. Still, the allure of slowness is potent. Kierkegaard said that men pursue pleasure at such a pace that they often pass it by. I've lived that. How disappointing.


I Gave Up War for Lent

I was listening to elitist radio and was struck by a strange story. The news began as background noise, some talk of India, Pakistan, and their mutual dislike for one another. Normally the story would have made zero impact, but the BBC correspondent decided to mention cricket.

India has invited Pakistan's president to a cricket match. This was unlikely to catch my ear as well. I have no interest in cricket. I do, however, have an interest in nuclear cricket. It seems that while inviting Pres. Musharraf for a sport's weekend, the Prime Minister's office also noted India's disapproval of Pakistan's nuclear program. Now, I find that bizarre. It just seems that an invitation to a sporting event and the mentioning of nuclear weapons should be separated. I don't know why they should. I have never taken a course in international diplomacy. Perhaps I just don't want to envision men standing around a missile in cricket gear. Feel free to explain to me why I am naive. It just makes me uneasy.


Invisible Posts

I hope you all figured out how to access my many hidden posts during the past months. I thought that it would be best to keep the commoners from reading them, seeing as the subject matter was so risque. Some of you obviously took offense. Your comments were absolutely cutting. No matter. I do not apologize. Each word needed to be said.
These recent months have been filled with productivity. I have moved to a larger, more lively apartment. My job has been fulfilling and time consuming. Evenings are spent cooking. By that I mean actually putting raw ingredients together and applying heat. I've missed cooking.
There was a time that I could bake a mean loaf of bread. There is something very satisfying about preparing food. It slows down the mind, allowing for reflection. Baking in particular exposes moderns to textures and smells which remind us of the senses least minded within this new world.
For those few of you that are aware of my tile art project, cooking a nice herbed chicken meal gave me a new idea. So be on the lookout for new urban fauna.

That's all. Future posts will not be obfuscated.