Mostly Dead

  It's been a kind of grim September as several people, close or not have passed away this month.  Becky lost two aunts, a few celebs kicked it, and an old colleague of mine died of lymphoma at age 35, Keith "Mike" Hardesty who was just as buff as also-passed-away Michael Clark Duncan and was ranked #3 in the state for arm wrestling.  Just grim.  It reflects our own moralities.  Christians wear seat-belts and put their kids in car-seats as if almost in denial of their own faith, something more grim and real than they pretend.  It's dire business, being snuffed-out, a lot of us taken at an early age.  Reminds me of the phrase, "Only the good die young" immortalized by the Greek historian, Herodotus, and then later by William Wordsworth, Billy Joel, and Iron Maiden amongst a few.  Walt Whitman never said this, probably because he was a flamingly saucy fat gay.

Walt Whitman, the GAY

Walt Whitman's gay lover, Schmedly McGayFag, Queen of the Nine Kingdoms of Saucy McFaggySpanks Jr.

  It's sad to me because I love this time of year.  I love the leaves falling and the sweet smell of aspens creating wonderful contrasts against the deep blue of the Colorado sky as water boils at 80 degrees F. due to our location's atmosphere being so thin (sorry, science joke).

  It's nice to think perhaps that we "move on" to another form of consciousness in Heaven, but having been put-out with sodium-pentathol a few times, the void is omnipresent of abject nothingness.  Might as well enjoy the colors like Schmedly (above) does, and, well, despite his mental condition, is seemingly having a pretty good time about it.  No proof of an afterlife yet, all on faith.  I'm none too pleased about that.  I think I'd rather put my faith in cryogenics than not.  I suspect a few hundred years from now we'll figure out how to maintain cellular regeneration and be quasi-immortal like amoeba and possibly other microbes or the tuatara lizard which can resort to childlike form (humans can do this with alcohol consumption).  I'm fussy about the whole notion.  Still, at 43 years old as of recently, I feel pretty good, and that's nice.

  Sure, the death of several really makes one intraflect upon one's own self and lament over those that are dead.  Surely, they can't feel anything, their chemical computer "brain" cannot respond to input.  Pumped embalming fluid stagnant in their veins we bury them in the ground where, often the Tall Man takes them to be shrunk as zombie workers on some high-gravity planet.

  It might be high-time to get a Dodge HemiCuda (aka 'Cuda) to fight evil while I'm still able.  Indeed, we all should, and make our lives matter and do triumphant things, because, well, how long do we got?

Yet somehow, I believe in ghosts.  Odd, I know.  I've felt them by way of emotion, in Japan very angry spirits.  People have seen loved ones after their death.  I don't think it's coincidence.  Psychologists state it's because the want to see them again is so strong, you have mild delusions.  Possibly, but there might be more to it than that! 

  Now, I don't belittle Death.  I've met Death once.  Quite a dark time in my life.  Regarded me as if to pick me up as I hadn't eaten in 28 days and I was very very sick and weak.  It came into the room and considered, then left.  I knew if I didn't eat, despite the pain, Death would return for me.  I understood this, and shortly after finally ate food and lived (obviously).  Death was more of a presence.  Something you could almost visually see out the corner of your eye, manifesting itself in my mind.  Then again, perhaps delirious at that point, yet if felt real enough.  I think the Afterlife may indeed be real, somehow, though not quite what artists in the Renaissance Period have painted.  Something more serious and less flowery and not a Cupid to be found.

  I think it's important we do well here, now.  Great things for people.  Create great things.  Inspire others to do good.  LIVE life, not just watch it.  Let's BE the media!  Ya know?   You only got so long, eh?