The hole in the soul and Universal Consciousness

For the last few hours I've been haunted. I checked out a Welsh film called "submarine" last night and it left me glaring deep into the hole in my soul, staring at the empty space with thoughts drifting to what I know is missing from that place. It happens. We all get these moments, for some they never seem to go away... though I'm not too concerned with all that. Nothing a good laugh won't solve, or anything else that puts you in a positive frame of mind... your happy place.

 My Happy Place

Successful people only spend 10% of their time thinking about a problem, the rest on the solution.

Oh... and the movie was weird. I ended up loving it, even if it did leave me haunted.

Have you ever seen a ray of light beam through your window? There's a glowing shaft piercing a darker world, and in that shaft floating particles dance and sway this way and that without any noticeable pattern.

The other day I sat on my bed and watched these particles swirl through the light. Its in these rare moments that we're able to see those swirling energies that fill the spaces in between, the power, the life we can't see, those essences that connect us all. Of course I had to try out my Jedi powers, reaching out with my feelings and asking the particles to come to me. Before my eyes in that ray of light whatever filled that place straightened, and in one continuous flow streamed towards me like a river. I wasn't at all surprised by that.

 Danielle Lloyd

So I pushed away, just to see what would happen. At first it appeared as a window curtain does when someone moves it to peak outside, the particles lifted, then separated, before flowing in one continuous stream in the other direction, away from me.

I know what you're thinking, this is just ridiculous, nonsense, crazy talk. After all, without seeing it themselves, who would believe it? No one, I know. So I went through the exercise again. Same results.

Take from that story what you will. I know what I believe from it, but then, I always have believed it, and our mind always seeks, and always finds, reasons to prove our beliefs right.

Just before I sat on the bed, before seeing the light, I caught "The Adjustment Bureau" starring Matt Damon and Emily Blunt. I can't quite put my finger on what it is about her, maybe the whole package, but I'm really into Emily Blunt.

Emily Blunt

The movie is about fate, soul mates and free will, with God running heaven as if its a major corporation, and his "employees" are charged with the task of giving people a slight nudge here and there to make sure we all play our part and everything goes according to plan. To do this they use "doors" that cut through the fabric of the universe, allowing them to move from one side of the planet to another in a moment. Except every once in a while someone (Damon) goes off the path, challenges what fate has in store for them, bucks their destiny, and all hell breaks loose.

Aside from being just a completely excellent movie, I've had these same exact ideas that were in this film floating around in my head, filling my dreams, for the better part of the last two years, right down to the doors, the slight nudges to adjust fate, and the feeling of connection with people as if there was supposed to be something more there, but it wasn't part of the plan, so someone kept it from happening.

Anthony Mackie

There's a line from the film where Anthony Mackie tells Damon "your father was a smart man, very smart, could have been more, wanted to be, but it wasn't part of the plan"

How many times have you felt that way yourself? I know I have many, many times.

Mackie, by the way, is an excellent actor, someone who's been in a lot of films now, but should be bigger than he is. He completely carried "We Are Marshall", which was a film that blew me away. "The Hurt Locker" isn't the same film without him, even if he wasn't the star of the film. His small part in "Real Steel" was well done, and now with this film, in which he's pivotal to the plot, I believe he can play just about any role.

So what did I take out of the entire experience of seeing a film that seemed as if it had been pulled completely from my own head, and turned out to be excellent?

Its Universal Consciousness baby, ever present, all pervasive God Mind. Just like the particles of light floating through the empty spaces, thought, all thought, dance and sway this way and that without any noticeable pattern through our heads, passing from my mind to yours and vice versa even across the great expanse of time and space.

And interesting side note here.... scientists can't explain what light is. Light is light. That's all they can say about it. Light is light. They don't even know where it comes from.

It wouldn't surprise me one bit if all we were, all everything is, are nothing more than those particles dancing in the light. How is it then that so few of us know the dance?

Switching gears a bit, the St. Louis Cardinals 2011 Payroll was 105.4 million and they were 11th in payroll. A full 1/3 of the league has a payroll over 100 million. I don't ever want to hear about anyone "buying" championships again.

The former Miss Venezuela, Eva Ekvall, just died of breast Cancer at 28 years old. How sad is that? I'm not about to tell you to think of that and be happy you don't have it so bad as the holidays roll in, I've always felt that that was a bullshit way of looking at the world. But I will say this, this life is the only thing any of us have, or will ever have, that is ever actually ours, and its all special. So be happy about something, whatever it is, and enjoy all of it as much as possible.

Eva Ekvall

Very uplifting, holiday cheery post today, huh? I know. That's why I kept on with the Sexy Santa Ladies today, who otherwise had nothing to do with anything I was talking about, to balance it all out.

But that's it for today.
Later People!

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9/11 - Exactly what is it that we'll never forget?

First I want to thank you all for the tremendous, overwhelming response to my last post. I had a great, great weekend, which I'll go into more detail about during the week, and I'm tired but it would probably be irresponsible of me not to address the 10th anniversary of Sept. 11.

I didn't watch a single second of the coverage on television; the images are ingrained in our memories as if etched in stone. I didn't need to see that again. There will be no pictures of any of that in my posts. This will not be about politics, or terrorism, or anger, or revenge. This will not be about conspiracies or what I believe to be the truth behind that day. Instead I'll talk about that day, that week, as I experienced it and the message that I always try to take from it.

I was born and raised in New York City, and with the exception of the three years I spent in Vegas and a year at Oklahoma State, I've lived here my whole life; thirty years I've lived here. But I wasn't in New York that day, my sister, her husband and I were in Orlando Florida.

We got an early call from one of my sisters to turn on the T.V. and watched it all unfold live. There's no need to tell you the rest of that, you know it well enough.

New York can be a hard place. It's a hard life. But you never realize how much you love a place, or the people, how much they're a part of you. Two grown men wandering around Orlando with tears in their eyes so thick that there was just no wiping them away brought all of those raw emotions to the forefront for everyone to see.

It wasn't long before cell phone service was done, and we were left in the dark. My oldest sister, a detective with the NYPD, was stationed down the block at the time, we feared she may be in there. My father ran a place off of Broadway just a block away. I had only left a job at the Patrolman's Benevolent Association just a few months earlier and still had many, many friends (many of you reading right now) who would have been getting off of the trains which ran beneath the trade center right at the time the planes hit.

What was happening, and to whom, we just didn't know. And there was no way to find out. That was the worst part of it for us down there, that we just didn't know. It would be days before we found anything out. The three of us took turns randomly breaking into tears, bawling like babies.

As it happened we were scheduled to go to Seaworld's Discovery Cove, a place that only allows limited crowds per day. You have to make an appointment. Most everyone we encountered had been sympathetic, and it's in times like this, when something bigger than all of us snaps us out of our usual self occupied focus that we really get to see how good most folks really are, how much we empathize, how much we care for one another. Or course, invariably, there always has to be some jackass too stupid to get it, acting like fools because they don't fear repercussions because no one holds them to task.

Two clowns at the park screamed "In Coming!", laughing about it as we waited to swim with dolphins. Stepping out to where they could see us, red lines staining out cheeks, and a low but firm "we're from NY you asshole" wiped the smile and jokes from their faces quickly. It's amazing how quickly it usually does with that sort of clown, isn't it?

But there's real magic in the world around us every time we walk outside our door, especially in the natural things, all one has to do to see it is know where to look. Discovery Cove is set up so that you experience some of that natural magic. We swam with sharks that day; we swam with dolphins.

That was an experience like no other with an absolutely amazing creature. Dolphins are graceful, yet powerful, intelligent and loving. No words of mine are sufficient to describe the feeling of exhilaration as one of these majestic animals pulls you through the water. And it's insane how you can just feel how happy they are that you're there with them.

There's a picture we have from that day that I don't need to see, I can picture it as I write this, of my sister riding that dolphin, and the pure joy on her face. Her and I have been through so much together over the years; that look on her face is one of my best memories. By the time we got back to the time share our emotions had worn us down; we were in no shape to go anywhere, do anything. But watching more of the horrible footage just wouldn't do, so we rented a movie.

There's not much in the world that I love more than a good story, and my love of movies stems from the need to escape life's pains; for two hours you're transported into another world, for two hours all of your problems disappear. We rented The Legend of Bagger Vance that night, a film about God and fate and finding our own path in life, our natural swing. It stars Matt Damon, Will Smith and Charlize Theron, directed by Robert Redford. The flik went down as one of the biggest flops in all of their careers, but there were parts that just made us laugh. My brother in law and I still scream "BALLS!" because of it all these years later, and it's one of my favorite movies to this day.

9/11 forced the closing of Disney World, the happiest place on earth, so we went to Seaworld instead. Devil and I sat as close as possible to Shamu the whale and came out out of the show completely drenched. Being owned by Anheuser Busch, Seaworld had 'beer school', which we had to attend. Each person gets 1 free sample; drunks as we are, we each had 6. I have a picture hanging on my wall; it's my brother in law and I thoroughly soaked, smiling from ear to ear.

The next day we went to Epcot Center and grabbed a beer at every bar in every country in the place. That adds up to a lot of beer; we were loaded. I had to fulfil one of my great pleasures of the time, taking picture with people I don't know. On the monorail on the way back a three year old girl pointed up at my brother in law and scolded him, clear as day, "You're a bad piece!" I can't tell you how hard that made me us laugh.

We had to drive back home from Florida, going through a tropical storm that literally blinded us on the way. My sister has brass balls even attempting that and a few days later we were making our approach to the city, Even a week later you could see the smoke hanging in the air for miles. There was a sickening hole in the skyline.

I happened to be one of the lucky ones from that day, none of my people had been lost. Many people who are very dear to me couldn't say the same, having lost people very dear to them. Often I feel guilty that I wasn't here, not that I could have done anything, just to have been there with, and for, my people, my city. I probably always will, but it is what it is.

Since then, 9/11 has often been used for cheap propaganda and to push political agenda. It's been used as an excuse to lash out in anger, to pigeon hole us into the "if you're not with us, you're against us" mentality. And for every "never forget" plastered all over facebook, I fear in twenty years it'll just be another excuse for a barbecue, and to utter lines of crap just for attention, but making it seem like we care. I know in twenty years facts will come out that make the whole thing very different in our minds.

But when I think of that time I want no part of images of desperate people hurling themselves 100 stories to their death. I prefer to think about natures amazing creatures, one of the happiest smiles I've ever seen on my sisters face, Bagger Vance and trying to find my natural swing, the beautiful innocence and perfect intuition of little children and the worlds only confirmed bad piece. I prefer to think about how the great little details in life can take away the greatest pains, even if just for a while.

Of course, it's so much easier for me; I didn't lose anyone; I didn't have to walk home that day, terrified, through dust and debris, through living hell. But I prefer to think of my people, my nation, coming together and showing our pride in who we are, in each other, our once great country and the hope that we can be great again. Americans used to live for America, for that ideal of something bigger, better than all of us; we rarely do that anymore. And I prefer to remember seeing how much we really care about each other, and how we collectively pick each other up when we're so down.

But I cry too. Why does it have to take the worst of the world to show us the best of it, the best of us? If we could see that, be that, everyday, travesties like 9/11 would never occur.

Later people.

Inside Why We're FU....ED!

With monsoon season still gripping the city and the myterious illness that dropped me like 3rd period French, the weekend was a total washout. For most of it I couldn't help but feel like the people caught in the preview of Hereafter, that Matt Damon flik that no one bothered to watch.

Speaking of Matt Damon, laid up like Sonny Bono after a ski trip I happened to catch the last hour of the documentary "Inside Job". It was really disturbing to see how the world economy got destroyed and how the people responsible are not only right back in power, but stronger than ever. Buckle in folks, cause it's only going to get worse.

I got you, babe!

Between that and the 2005 documentary "Why We Fight", which is another must watch about the Military Industrial Complex, if you really think that the American people have anything at all to do with who or what is running the country, or that the powers that be have your interests in mind or all, that you're even a blip on their radar.... you're kidding yourself.

The amazing thing about all of it is that now that we live in a world where all the information we could possibly want is at our finger tips with a few key words and the wave of a mouse, we've used that power to effectively cut ourselves off from one another and collectively pull the wool over our own eyes. Watch these two videos then tell me if you still think the American government couldn't be responsible for 9/11.

I'm a sucker for pretty much any show where they're saving some failing business, Ramsay's Kitchen Nightmares is one of my favorite, so when I saw Bar Rescue last night on Spike TV I was IN! I couldn't care less whether or not the so called experts they bring in are experts at all. For years my job was to see how small businesses were losing money and show it them, and there's something about doing things right that just makes me hard. This was great in the sense that they give you specific stats most people don't think about that are necessary to achieve if you want success. For instance, successful bars shoot for 70% of their customers to be women, so they cater to bringing women in. It makes perfect sense to anyone that goes bar hopping, if there are chicks in there, the dudes will follow. Once it turns into a sausage party, it's time to bounce. It's a good model for most businesses, get the women, the men will follow. It's no coincidence that movies that really make HUGE money at the box office are the girlie films that chicks go to see with their girlfriends, yet still have enough action to entice their boyfriend to see it too.

But the thing that really gets me with these shows is how disgusting the places they walk into are. If you knew the what nastiness lurks in the not so dark corners of pretty much every place you eat and drink at you'd either be sick to your stomach or feel as invincible as Monty Burns. YES, Invincible!

I've worked in several restaurants in my life and can't tell you how many cooks and chef's didn't wipe their ass or wash their hands after dropping a hot one, then went right out to cook without gloves. I remember a rat the size of my dog once got speared to the wall in the kitchen at the first job I ever had, a Japanese/Korean fusion restaurant in Manhattan that's no longer there. The Chef poked it with his chopsticks and said, "Heh, Mickey" before going back to touching your food with those same chop sticks.

In Vegas I was the office manager of restaurant that's also no longer there. Tony Fuckface, the clever little nickname we had for the chef (possibly the foulest human I've ever met, and I've known some winners) because he looked like Sam Kinison's uglier brother and liked to watch while strangers nailed his much younger wife would host regular after hours orgies in the kitchen... on all the cooking surfaces.

I had spent some time when I first came back clearing out the basement of a rather famous building in Forest Hills, Queens.... it was so disgusting that rats the size of my foot would die at my feet. The only time a rodent will do that is when the place is so infested that it would rather take its chances with you than get eaten alive by its brethren. Well... the food and drink for a particular restaurant that used to be a Beefsteak Charlie's is all stored in that same basement... I absolutely refuse to go in there. Though, I have to say, I get a hearty chuckle when I see the trendy ladies that don't have time for me sitting there ordering off of the sushi menu...

I was going to go so much further with all of this, take it in another direction, but it's all gotten away from me and the ramble has gone on long enough. And now I forgot what I was talking about, so... until next time....

BEWARE THE MILITARY INDUSTRIAL COMPLEX!!!

Shit... now I'm on the list. If my car mysteriously crashes.....
At least I'm on someone's list.

Later People!

Who are Bill and Hillary Clinton's Latest Sex Partners?

Matt Damon Above

Harrison Ford Above

Hillary Clinton Above

Bill Clinton Above

It now appears that Bill and Hillary Clinton have an open gay marriage. It seems that Bill Clinton's regular boyfriend is Hollywood actor, Harrison Ford, while Hillary Clinton's regular boyfriend is Matt Damon. Moreover, Bill Clinton seems to be illegally impersonating the United States Attorney for the Northern District of New York, even though he is no a licensed attorney in New York. It also appears that Matt Damon is really Matt Zimmerman from Sioux Falls South Dakota. Harrison Ford may very well be an illegal alien from Vladivostok, Soviet Russia. It can be asserted that Bill and Hillary Clinton are Russian Soviet Spys from Moscow, Soviet Russia. If you look at Bill and Hillary's passports you may very well find that they spend most of their time in Moscow, Soviet Russia, and both of them, inexplicably know how to speak fluent Russian.

(C)Copyright (2011) by Anthony Faber and Neothomism, P.C. (PA)