Amaranthine

The You Is Silent

2011-12-14T22:24:00.000-08:00

I hate that I make her feel the way that you make me feel.

I hate that when I don't answer her calls, I know exactly how she's feeling because that's how I feel when you don't answer mine.

I hate that she wants me as much as I want you.

I hate that I am compelled to think up increasingly clever ways of commandeering your attention the way that she pulls increasingly miserable stunts to gain mine.

I hate that I spend hours restlessly waiting for your reply the way that she spends hours anxiously waiting for mine.

I hate that I let her down over and over the way you let me down over and over.

I hate that she throws herself at me the way I want to throw myself at you.

I hate that I am hurting her the way that you are hurting me.

I hate how she feels empty when I'm not around the way I feel cavernous when you are not.

But I love that it feels like I can get revenge on the universe in some twisted way by squeezing the life out of her the way you squeeze the life out of me.

Martha Marcy May Marlene and Me

2011-12-01T11:19:00.001-08:00

Things that made me laugh about Martha Marcy May Marlene:

The big, old, decaying house
The endless cleaning
"Soon the government will collapse and people will go back to living on farms like this."
The dirty kids running around
The terrible musicians and songs ('Marcy's Song' excluded)
"He's right, I don't know why I'm so weak."
Always looking forward to financial stability "just around the corner"
Naivety about football, professional sports, and television in general
And niche hobbies and modern nutritional fads
And everything
"I don't know, it's a big bed -- you guys were on the other side."
HOW DID THEY GET SO MANY HOT NEW DISCIPLES WHAT THE HELL!
Official 'meal times'
"Your body doesn't need that much food, you'll get used to it."
Child care
Calling parents to ask for money
"You have so much potential."
"Morally superior moochers who live off and lecture you while insisting that you can't measure success by money and possessions"
The whiteboard by the phone and the phone protocol written on it
"You're a teacher and a leader."

While the 'cult' obviously had issues, the 'normal' sister and her husband weren't completely beautiful people either. Did they have to have such sticks up their asses about every little thing? Of course, I'm no one to judge. I've never had anything up my ass, and maybe the way they act is just normal, modern human behavior. Still, I wish people wouldn't have such a snobby attitude toward, for one, the natural, naked state of the human figure.

Some of the 'cult's' behavior was a bit improbable too. Although I have definitely seen how the ritualization of violation can definitely make some very wrong things sacred, I think the commonplace breaking-and-entering and the casual murdering was a bit far-fetched even for weird cults.

As far as the rape-cleansing ritual, I think the script's writer was trying to explain to himself through drastic measures how it is possible for people to be convinced to live alternative lifestyles. Maybe he doesn't realize or couldn't understand that you don't need to be 'raped' into an alternative lifestyle -- it is possible to just be seduced. Sometimes mainstream and society just isn't for you. Many people, of their own volition, live outside the norm, both idealistically and even sexually. Sometimes it even becomes a new norm, like monogamy once did. I don't think rape and roofies are necessary for a person to decide that the way many other people are doing things just isn't for her.

Florence + the Cliches

2011-11-24T15:27:00.001-08:00

Here is a list of cliches used unimaginatively in the latest epic ballad "Shake It Out" from the usually cunning Florence + the Machine. Shame on you, Florence. Shame on you, Machine.

It's always darkest before the dawn (4X)
Leave the past behind
Bury a dead horse
It's hard to dance with the devil on your back (4x)
Given half the chance
Damned if I do, damned if I don't
The end of the road
A shot in the dark

Here is a list of cliches used imaginatively in the same song:

Every demon wants his pound of flesh.

Verdict: guilty of doing a half-assed job on the lyrics. Great music, great presence, and steller melody, though.

Abso-fucking-lut

2011-10-10T11:49:00.000-07:00

My contribution to the Absolut-Ad spoof culture craze. Get it? (Click for full size.)

How to Make Love to a Friend - Part Four: Dangers

2011-09-26T18:02:00.000-07:00

Part Four: Dangers
If you missed the other parts in this series, you can find them at the following links:
Part 1: Eros
Part 2: Philos
Part 3: Agape

Here are a few of the most common dangers that can rear their ugly heads when making love to a friend. Most of these dangers occur not while what is happening still has anything to do with friendship but when either or both of you allow the wonderful thing you have to twist into something else. When your normal human insecurities stand up and insist that you protect yourself by snatching as much control of your friend as you can finagle. That is what will put the poison into your piñata.

Ignore the urge to move in with your friend and start a magical life together. It is when you give in to the impulses that begin to drag you down this path that things inevitably begin to turn sour. Possessive thoughts that begin with "my" (my baby, my man, my princess - even "us" actually means "my") will slit the throat of the goose that is laying gold for you right now.

Friends do not belong to each other; they simply enjoy each other. They don't try to manipulate each other into giving them more. They are thrilled when they are in each other's company, and they live and let live when they are apart.

If you can at all fathom it, encourage your friend to sleep with other people. Friends don't exclude their friends - from themselves or from the rest of life. Exclusivity is the enemy of friendship. It will rot your friendship faster than almost anything else. Do whatever you have to to avoid it and to avoid wanting it.

The main reason why the kind of friendship I describe is so rare is because people are greedy by nature. We can't help it. We want it all, and we want it right now. We want to own things and people, and we don't care what it does to them. We want our little kingdom with at least one subject who fauns over us, clings to us, and sits beside us on our bed at night tapping away on their laptop.

You can't help it. This is who you are as a human being. Anytime there is a self, there is a tendency to want to put that self first. (Lewis, 1943)

My only advice to you is to try to focus your greed in any other direction than your priceless friendships. Take it out on a stuffed animal, a musical instrument, a puppy, or even money if you must. Wrap your voracious, clutching arms around the necks of these items and drag them into your world to stay. Be greedy for things if it helps you simply sit back and enjoy your friendship. If you can't sheathe the sword, at least remove it from your friend's throat.

As hard as it may be to hear, often the best way to be cured of the disease of wanting only one person all for yourself (one-itis) is to learn to want other people. Think about that for a bit. When you learn to open yourself up and leave yourself open to the amazing world full of amazing people around you, you will lead an amazing life.

This concludes the How to Make Love to a Friend exclusive special feature of this blog. Visit us regularly for new breakthroughs, trends, and tips that will improve your sex life.

How to Make Love to a Friend - Part Three: Agape

2011-09-19T19:05:00.000-07:00

Part Three: Agape
Once you and your friend have shown each other that you are both able to handle the complete, all-inclusive version of friendship that so few ever attain, the fun can really begin. Believe me when I say that until you've made love to a friend, you've never really made love. You may have glutted yourself with one-night stands or marital bliss till it came out your nose, but you've never made love like this before.

At this stage it's crucial to be as clear and as deliberate as possible with your friend so that no mixed signals are sent in either direction. When you are in the mood for making love to your friend or not making love to them, let them know in terms that are not uncertain. One of the biggest benefits in friends with benefits is the absence of mind games. Instead of using sex as a way to secure intimacy with your partner or using friendship as a way to try to get into their pants, you now have the opportunity to experience both friendship and sex in their pure, unadulterated forms. But it's up to you to keep it that way. Mind games are forbidden.

Although it is important to be deliberate about your actions, it's not necessary to be crass. You can demonstrate to them your intention without trying to sound like a porn star. For this third stage, once again I recommend that you both be sober and sane. Men and women alike, have some balls, and show your friend that you are not afraid to touch them with loaded fingertips, to lie with your faces close together and carry on an electric conversation laced with risque and spices.

This is the stage that will set the tone for the rest of your friendship, so be careful, and be crazy. Be what you want to be; don't hold back - that IS what friends are for. For god's sake, though, don't be timid. If you are timid, you will ruin the entire point of this proposal. You are FRIENDS. You're allowed to make a mess, break stuff, throw stuff. Do things and say things that you probably couldn't with a regular partner. Leave the lights on. Maintain complete dominance of every one of your senses for the breathtaking relish that these moments of discovering each others' final frontiers will be.

Take full advantage of the fact that this a friend with whom you are making love.

Agape is the word for unconditional love. It is a combination of all the various kinds of love mixed up together and thrown into one. It means that you love every part, parcel, and facet of your friend no matter how small or how taboo. It is simply impossible to experience this kind of love in any other kind of relationship. You can't wrap up your family in this word because there are parts of who they are and what they do behind closed doors that just gross you out. You can't plunge into this word with your spouse because you secretly hate the thought that they might ever be attracted to anyone else besides you, which is a routine part of human existence. You can't get hopelessly lost in agape with your platonic friends because you've erected a fence around essential parts of you to keep them out.

Although you may be able to tolerate every part of the other people in your life, sadly, you will probably never embrace them as the complete people that they are. In some cases, it's true, it's better not to. But when it is possible, it is paradise.

Stay tuned next Monday evening for some of the dangers of making love to a friend.

How to Make Love to a Friend is an exclusive special feature of this blog. Visit us Monday evenings for new episodes in the How to Make Love to a Friend series.

If you would like to read the other parts in this series, you can find them at the following links:
Part 1: Eros
Part 2: Philos
Part 3: Agape
Part 4: Dangers

How to Make Love to a Friend - Part Two: Philos

2011-09-12T20:21:00.000-07:00

Part Two: Philos
Now that you have experienced your friend as a complete human being, physical, spiritual, and sexual, and have acknowledged all parts of their humanity, you are in a much better position to be a really great friend. At this stage, it's important to reaffirm the friendship side of your relation, so leave the sex aside for a while.

Don't act like it never happened. It did, and you both loved it, so let it glow in your eyes, but don't try to build on it for now. Now is the time to let your friend know that you value them as a friend. Spend time together doing what you used to love to do. Go out for drinks, and don't sexualize the evening. The best part about making love to a friend is that it doesn't always have to be about the eros or the emotion. It can and will be WHEN YOU WANT IT TO BE. And then it won't be WHEN YOU DON'T WANT IT TO BE. If you want to obsess over either eros or emotion, get a wife. Friends are only part-time lovers.

While you are placing the eros aside and focusing on the philos, don't disrespect your friend by flirting with other people in front of them. Although some friends will be okay with it, many will not, and it's important to keep the mutual respect at impeccable levels until you find out exactly where your comfort zones are. (While jealousy can be a great tool to gain attention in initial attraction phases, it's never polite to flirt with someone else in front of another person with whom you are already intimate, be they friend, fiance, or fuck-buddy, so don't do it.) Enjoy your friend's company, and show each other that, sex or no sex, you are friends first.

Because one of the best parts about making love to a friend is the flexibility that is built into the rapport, in this stage you may even want to down a few drinks while continuing to keep your hands off each other. This demonstrates to each other that it wasn't only the alcohol talking, that your sexual sides are entirely under your respective controls, and that you are perfectly capable of having a great time together and even drinking without necessarily falling into a pattern.

The limits are defined by you, and there are no ruts when making love to a friend. If you are able to keep intact the friend part of making love to a friend, your journey with us will continue.

How to Make Love to a Friend is an exclusive special feature of this blog. Visit us Monday evenings for new episodes in the How to Make Love to a Friend series.

If you would like to read the other parts in this series, you can find them at the following links:
Part 1: Eros
Part 2: Philos
Part 3: Agape
Part 4: Dangers

How to Make Love to a Friend

2011-09-05T18:04:00.000-07:00

Part One: Eros
Making love to a friend is not only one of the best kinds of making love, it is also one of the best things you can do to a friend. Contrary to the Black Swan twins' recent re-emphasis in two similarly-titled movies (No Strings Attached and Friends with Benefits) of the tired, old Hollywood cliche that friends and sex don't mix, these two ingredients can actually make some of the most delicious of life's desserts.

When making love to a friend, it's important that both parties know what they want. Unfortunately, that is often the one thing neither is sure of. For instance, if you want to just get a fantasy out of the way and then get back to being only friends, you will have to do things differently than if you want to transform your friend into a potential romantic interest. Things must also be done completely differently if you want to keep your friendship on a sexual level and also keep your friendship.

Whatever you think your intentions are, getting a small taste of that other side of your friend can help clear things up for you considerably. Sample your friend, and you may be surprised at what you find. Maybe you and your friend won't be compatible in bed. Or maybe getting to know them in that way just once will bind you closer as friends than ever before. However things turn out, it is vitally important to ensure that your first taste of each other DOES NOT COUNT.

This is Eros, the first phase of making love to a friend. To make sure that it doesn't count, I highly recommend alcohol. Attend a wild party and drink just enough that both of you are able to say the next morning that you were not fully yourselves last night. Don't drink anything, though, that would keep you from completely enjoying your friend or remembering them. Extenuating circumstances will now allow you make instinctive overtures to your friend, as men and women are supposed to. This, as far as your basic instincts are concerned, is what the opposite sex, friend or foe, was created for, so don't be shy.

Feel free to go as far as the moment takes you during this initial phase; remember, it doesn't count. Thanks to the alcohol, no matter what happens, your plausible deniability will remain intact. Remember too, as the moment swirls around you, that, more than just a wild party, this is also research. It is a fantasy football team, a what-if scenario, an experiment that will remain completely off the books if you want it to or recur if the results are satisfactory.

If you decide you aren't sexually compatible with your friend, your journey with us ends here. The friend part will continue, but the making love part will stop. You will most likely find your friendship enriched, understand your friend in entirely different ways now, and have one more silly moment of past history to laugh about.

If you decide you are romantically attracted to your friend, your journey with us also ends here. While the making love part will probably continue, the friend part will most likely grind to a long, painful halt. You will have someone on whose shoulder you will temporarily be able to rest your head when the other fragments of your life begin to pile up, and you will be able to lose yourself for now in a whole that is greater than the sum of its parts. You should, however, begin looking for another friend.

If you decide that you and your friend make magic together, both on the kitchen counter and off, welcome aboard; your journey with us has just begun.

How to Make Love to a Friend is an exclusive special feature of this blog. Visit us Monday evenings for new episodes in the How to Make Love to a Friend series.

If you would like to read the other parts in this series, you can find them at the following links:
Part 1: Eros
Part 2: Philos
Part 3: Agape
Part 4: Dangers

Let's Go Get Raped!

2011-06-29T17:27:00.000-07:00

Sex, drugs, alcohol - yawn, boring. These things have been an idolized part of pop culture for so long that they no longer turn heads. They have been firmly cemented into our party psyche to where it's a regular thing to cruise high, pop a bottle, and get laid. Regular Friday night. No big deal. What's next?

How about rape?

Well, date rape. And, actually, BEING raped, to be exact.

As an avid pop culture/party observer/goer, I am as fascinated by the latest in revelry trends as the next guy. Also like him, I like to keep an eye on the future - sort of try to predict what might be the next big thing on the party menu. And it has come to my attention that it is becoming increasingly popular to wake up after a weekend of partying and have little idea of what you've just done - or been done to.

A trend probably started by 2009's The Hangover, waking up clueless after a party has since become such a cliche that it sounds trite just mentioning it. That's because it is following the path previously taken by sex, drugs, and alcohol toward a thorough de-mystification, regularization, and integration into modern party culture.

The Hangover was so brilliant that it skyrocketed its three formerly unknown stars into immediate fame, made almost $500 million dollars to date, won a Golden Globe, and inspired a rash of music and film references, as well as a sequel. It essentially made 'forgetting' cool.

Thank you, Hangover.

Waking up clueless is difficult to do with alcohol but easy as pie, as depicted in the films, with roofies and other anti-remembering pills. These pills are most well-known for their rape-related side effects. Forgetting comes with pills, which come with rape.

Tonight, Tonight, by Hot Chelle Rae, currently number 12 on Billboard's US Pop chart and number 20 on their US Hot 100 chart, states: I woke up with a strange tattoo - not sure how I got it, not a dollar in my pocket - and it kinda looks just like you mixed with Zack Galifianakis.

Smile, by Avril Lavigne, which peaked at number 36 on the US Pop chart, says: Last night I blacked out, I think - what did you put in my drink? This was done to her by someone she is in love with. She lists the fragmented things she remembers doing, comments on her obligatory new tattoo, and then says she'd do it all over again.

Good Life, by OneRepublic, currently at 16 on the US Hot 100 and 6 on the US Adult Pop charts, talks about waking up in a strange city, having no idea how he got there, but having some pictures on his phone.

Last Friday Night, by Katy Perry, currently number 4 on the US Hot 100 chart, is entirely devoted to describing a scene similar to the post-party Hangovers. There's a stranger in her bed, a warrant out for her arrest, and she's trying to connect the dots. Last night is a blacked out blur and she thinks she kissed someone but she forgot.

Then there are the many less-obvious references. Big Sean's My Last has a verse dedicated to waking up not remembering anything. Katy Perry's ET discloses how she wants to get filled with poison, abducted, and become a victim. The album containing Sleeping With Sirens' hit song Do It Now, Remember It Later peaked at 78 on Billboard's Hot 200 and hit number 5 in the Hard Rock chart.

The weirdest thing about this latest rash of date rape songs is how in each case the drugging has happened to the artists themselves, possibly self-inflicted or possibly done to them by someone else. They are thrilled with it and, in many cases, state explicitly how they can't wait to do it again.

Now that my point has been proven, let me emphasize that I'm no naysaying conservative and I'm definitely NOT a conspiracy theorist. This is just information, for better or for worse.

There may be a day in the near future where it's the cool thing to wake up sore, scarred, and clueless. Don't think it couldn't happen - it wasn't that long ago that Elvis was banned from the MTVs of his era for doing what by today's standards is a slightly comical dance. Rendering yourself clueless could very well be the next big thing, if it isn't already.

Where will you be?

Rice Phase

2011-03-15T09:36:00.000-07:00

For better or worse, I go through Damien Rice phases where I can't take my eyes off of floating cannonballs, and I strut around in pajamas for entire days stumbling through the work I have to do. These are not particularly gloomier phases than the rest of the anthill existence, nor are they particularly less motivated. I'm only as bi-polar as the next bi-polar bear, and he's so cuddly and cute.

If anything, they are definitely more poignant phases. Everything takes on a deeper meaning, more things are read into, more lines read between. You could say more thinking is done (therefore more am-ing accomplished?), more pondering.

I used to believe that my Damien Rice phases were triggered by you (plural, obscure, undefined). Now that you has many faces and none of them recent, I am beginning to run out of lightning for my blamestorm. You, perhaps, is a symptom of the phase rather than the other way around.

Be that as it may, I think these are possibly nothing more than a healthy balance for the unbridled optimism and enthusiasm of the high end of the see-saw. They help me to contemplate from my throat, sing from my diaphragm, and stare right through you. Tomorrow I will be back to Jack, Jude, Joe, Jason, Joshua, Justin, and Milow.

Hot Chelle Rae - Tonight, Tonight

2011-03-09T18:53:00.000-08:00

Listen to the video then check out my commentary.

Don't think you can ever outgrow punk music. It's older than you.

The happy-go-lucky emo is the new great trend in rebellious young music. When denial turns to optimism, which turns to could-carelessness, you have a feeling on your hands that is quite hard to describe (and they wonder why we use 'whatever'). Still, make no mistake: partying on the rooftop, top of the world remains one of the best solutions.

Oh, also, I don't know when it became cool to name-drop a chubby, bearded guy into your song but I definitely approve. And kudos to Mr. Galifianakis for having somehow embedded himself firmly into modern pop culture (if not quite yet modern spell checkers).

If words like heartcry and youth were still in my vocabulary I might use them here. I might also use buoyant. But 'don't know if I'll make it, but watch how good I'll fake it' pretty much sums it up how everyone in the entire world feels whether they admit it or not, so don't think you're so special. We live in a teeming anthill of egocentric, pity-absorbed worker bees with game faces on, so you can cry on my shoulder for a bit if I can cry on yours. But then you'll have to go back to faking it because that's how things work.

Oh well.

Moral Cliches

2011-03-05T11:35:00.000-08:00

The people in a certain Home knew all the moral cliches so well that they'd just call out a number instead of giving the whole sermon. "One" was that money couldn't buy you happiness. "Three" was that faith could move mountains. "Seven" was that what everybody needed was love, and so on and so forth. Somebody would say, "Fourteen!" and everyone would be deeply moved. Someone else would say, "Seventy-two!" and everyone would be encouraged and inspired. Well, the newcomer listened for while and then called out, "Twenty-four!" but no one was touched. Then the guy in the chair next to him sighed, "I guess some people just don't know how to give devotions."

This slightly passé and easily misunderstood parody is what I feel like when someone tries to preach to me. Not that what they're saying isn't profound and true and the answer. It is. And it's simple. Take a number.

My Illustrious Goals In Life

2011-02-05T16:03:00.000-08:00

My goals are as follows.

1: Die.
But dying is neither as morbid or as easy as it sounds. I may have a death wish but I am still a huge opponent of both suicide and gratuitous risks. Therefore death in my case can only come by either a fortunate accident or the typical process of decay -- pretty much the same gauntlet that every other living thing runs.

Not that I even really want to die, simply that cursory scrutiny indicates that it may make everything a lot less complicated. Until my stroke of luck, however, here's only hoping.

2: Work Only Under Inspiration.
Here I leave space for those all "great" things that you obsessive accomplishment addicts continually crave another fix of. The only difference is, if it ever happens to me, I, one, will still have lived a happy-go-lucky life, two, will have been brought nothing but joy by any processes of achieving, and, three, will not be all sweaty.

Let me let you in on a little secret. There are billions of people in the world. No matter how hard you work and how talented you are, there will always be a throng of people who have worked harder and are more talented plus luckier than you. You will work your ass off and still end up being mediocre. I, personally, would much rather enjoy my life and be mediocre. Which brings us to our next goal.

3: Be a Minimizer.
This essentially means to work as little as necessary to stay alive and comfortable. This is easier done than explained so I'll just do it and leave the curious professionals to their day jobs.

I toast those of you who worry about your future, your career, and your humanity -- you make the world go 'round. This is not to say I have no mission. I still love aid, worship, and spreading good news. What it means is this: I take life as it comes, multiple times, but I take off in the interim.

Ur Beautiful

2010-10-27T07:44:00.000-07:00

hoorayy i'm reposting this in celebration that they just allowed my ur beautiful video on youtube! they had it blocked 4 4ever but 4 some reason they just made it available..... so here u r

JJ's Guide to Having Sex

2010-09-05T21:37:00.000-07:00

or How to Pick the Ones That Are Right for You

This blog has tried to stick to a loosely confederated ally of 2 topics dear to my heart: sex and music. Now the dynamic has changed a bit. One saga has ended, the old Family has closed, Family music has found a different place in the pecking order, survival of the fittest taking its toll on our childhood sweethearts

You've also all grown up and can get laid on your own now: there are literally billions to pick from. Congratulations.
With so much variety, it is no longer necessary to grab whatever you can get. Many of you will come to a point where you'll realize you need to stop trying to get laid and start refining your tastes a little. I know you know most of this, but I hope this short guide can be of some help to you.
I divide up what I look for in a lover into 6 simple categories. There are the 3 timeless principles of face, body, and personality, and I have added 3 more of my personal selection, motion, fantasy, and click.

Face
There are a million different kinds of pretty. You may be an 'eyes' guy (or girl) and not notice the incredibly out of proportion mouth or the crooked nose. You may be a lips guy and overlook the conventionally hottest outsider at the club because her lips aren't your style. That's okay. Appealing to your very own niche market is the important thing here.

Body
Again, different tastes. Ricky likes feet. He doesn't care if the woman is half his height. Frank is a thigh guy. I obsess on the kiss-ability of necks and collarbones. An important thing to remember is that a good body is not just a shallow quality, it also means responsible health habits and good self esteem--2 important qualities that lead into our next section.

Personality
This is an even more difficult one to judge. Maybe she's just being nice to you, but is actually a spoiled brat to the rest of the world. Or there's the up/down way of looking at it--being an optimist, I tend to gravitate toward other optimists. But then, even I don't mind the occasional downer to even things out. See, even personality, the quality that altruistic lovers wave in the faces of the more carnal among us, is highly subjective. Good thing there are 3 more qualities to look at.

Motion
Ahh, the hypnotism of motion. I know a girl who has average looks and an average body. She has a fair enough personality in my opinion, but when she moves, you can't take your eyes off her. She is my type of motion from the flick in her wrist to the grinding in her hips. Fortunately, MQ (motility quotient), the intelligence of motion, can be learned--knowing what pleases a man isn't rocket science--and when it is present, it's a beautiful thing.

Fantasy
We all have our dream girls, that intangible goddess that defines perfection in our minds. She might even be confined to your subconscious but she's there. She is what attracts you to that nondescript stranger at first sight. It isn't love! That stranger looks a little like your goddess, that's it! And the closer she comes to looking like her, the more attracted you are as illogical as it may be. It's not your fault.

Click
But by far my favorite quality in a woman is the click. She's not your type. She's too narrow in the hips. She's a bitch to everyone else. She's clumsy. But...
The click is exactly what it sounds like. We just clicked for no reason at all. I'm in her mind and she's burrowing into mine. I will avoid using the term wavelength because it's trite. The click can actually override all 5 other qualities and is possibly the reason Beyoncé married Jay-Z. Sometimes the universe steps in.

There it is, you're on your own now. No, don't worry, I'll still be here, popping back up with an occasional two cents. But I know you'll make the right choices and may all the Style and Mystery be with you. The best of luck!

How to Create a Condom Splatter Painting

2010-07-03T19:53:00.001-07:00

Step 1: Cut three pieces of poster board, one slightly wider than the other two. Paint surfaces with the background color of your choice (I chose brown, but do not recommend this color). Allow to dry.

Step 2: You have little control over shapes, but this painting is all about colors. Choose your paint colors wisely. You may choose two base colors to form a general landscape for your painting, and a variety of supplementary colors to fill in spaces with.

Step 3: Arrange newspaper or garbage bags on the floor and place your three prepared poster boards in a row in the middle, spaced the same distance apart as they will be on your wall.

Step 4: Using a funnel, fill one condom halfway full with the base paint color of your choice (mine was red). Tie condom securely leaving no air inside.

Step 5: Throw condom at poster boards repeatedly until it bursts, creating your first splatter pattern. Allow to dry.

Step 6: Repeat with second base paint color of your choice (blue, for me). Make sure the angle and color of this splatter are contrasting with that of your first. Allow to dry.

Step 7: Drip remaining colors onto your painting as desired. Get creative, violent at times. Aim to create contrasts.

If hung on your wall, a painting such as this should give you a lot to contemplate on when looked at.

.

The Stoner Chapter

2010-06-17T07:36:00.000-07:00

I don't smoke marijuana. I never have.

If that makes me a dork, too bad. If it makes me upstanding, also too bad. It's just the truth, I have never smoked marijuana.

But that's not to say I can help but admire people who do.

I would like to turn your attention to the first book of Corinthians, chapter 13. We'll start at verse 4, the most perfect and moving description of a loving person to be found in the Bible.

Also the perfect description of a stoner.

Let's go through it and see if you can see some uncanny parallels, like I do.

Love suffers long and is kind.
"What is that thing that you get in and it takes you places? You guys know what I'm talking about?"
"Yeah man it's called a car, we're in one right now.."

Love does not envy, parade itself, or act puffed up.
"Whoa duude your hand is soo big.."

Does not behave rudely or seek its own, is not provoked, thinks no evil.
"I tootally get where you're coming from maan.."

Does not rejoice in iniquity, but rejoices in the truth.
"Duude the stars are so pretty at night time.."

Bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.
"Seriously brosef, everyone in the whole world should just like stop fighting man.."

Is there a more precise, accurate description of a loving man than one who is high? If the whole point of life is not to make money, not to accomplish things or to get ahead, but to love our fellow man--and if human nature is inherently selfish and evil--doesn't it make sense that one would want to inhibit the petty, greedy areas of one's brain, and break through to a higher, spiritual dimension where all is love and tolerance?

Question: There's a stoner on the left and a stoner on the right, who wins?

Answer: Who wins what?

.

FDTP MEXICO 2007 documentary (re-release)

2010-06-16T09:10:00.000-07:00

The FDTP MEXICO 2007 documentary has been re-released and is once again available on Youtube. It's basically just a compilation of all the rough camera work of the notable events, organized, edited, and put together, we hope tastefully, into 12 short segments.
Huge shout out to the photographers, they are definitely the backbone of this whole project.

Here is the first segment, from which you will find links to all the others. Hope you enjoy!

I Love It When Songs Use Bad Grammar

2010-06-05T15:55:00.000-07:00

I do, I love it when songs use bad grammar. I love when a wordsmith can take a word or a phrase and apply it to something that it doesn't quite fit to, but in the context it just seems to work. I also don't mind it when you desperately need a phrase that might just be a little bit of bad grammar in order to complete a rhyme or a wordplay or a thought. Go ahead and use it.
What I don't like at all is when the lyrical geniuses and word magicians of the pop worlds use bad grammar unintentionally, or when changing it into good grammar would not have made the slightest difference to the cadence, rhyme or thought, and yet they still deviate. For that there is no point and no excuse. Here are some bad examples I would like to highlight:

Lady Gaga -- You and me could write a bad romance. (Or maybe it would be a good romance, just with a lot of bad grammar.)
Snow Patrol -- If I lay here, if I just lay here, would you lie with me..? (Kudos for having gotten it right one out of three times.)
Julie Greeneyes -- In comparison to what You do, my every hope and dreams come true. (Would saying, "my every hope and dream comes true," have made that much worse a comparison to what You do?)
Joan Osborne -- What if God was one of us. (If He were, He might too have been appalled at the grammar in His song.)
Jason Mraz -- May I suggest you get the best for nothing less than you and I. (This from the guy who wrote an entire ode to You and I, both, and managed to get it right in that one. Hint: remove all extra filling and you will find an egregious suggestion to obtain the best for a certain "I".)
Sam Fuller -- This is the start when only come from I. (If that sentence even made sense, I would then begin to seriously criticize the grammar.)
Everclear -- I will buy you a new car, perfect, shiny and new. (The grammar is fine, I'm just still not clear on if the car will be new.)
Bryan Adams -- But that’d change if she ever found out about you and I. (Back of the class, you, with Mraz, Gaga, and Fuller.)

Positive Highlight Surprise GOOD Example of the Night:
Ke$ha! -- I don't care who you are, in this bar it only matters who I ...is. (Haha, classic. That, I love.)

.

So Last Night Was Healthy After All

2010-04-25T08:58:00.000-07:00

(This from a book summary posted on Mama's site, making it a current official part of the Family canon)

There is now considerable scientific evidence for the health benefits of alcohol. Mindful of the social and health effects of alcoholism, public health authorities are loath to recommend drinking, but the fact is that people who drink moderately and regularly live longer and suffer considerably less heart disease than teetotalers. Alcohol of any kind appears to reduce the risk of heart disease, but the polyphenols in red wine (resveratrol in particular) may have unique protective qualities. Most experts recommend no more than two drinks a day for men, one for women. Also, the health benefits of alcohol may depend as much on the pattern of drinking as on the amount: Drinking a little every day is better than drinking a lot on the weekends, and drinking with food is better than drinking without it.

Things I can trust:

2009-11-07T21:02:00.000-08:00

hot showers
aroused women
Jesus
ranch boys (to be ranch boys)
flip flops
eggs
meditation
monday
jon stewart
basketball
11/16" buzzer attachment
night time

There's got to be some basics in life. Things that you know what to expect from! Things you can count on to enjoy! Here are mine.

Date an Outsider

2009-10-24T19:35:00.000-07:00

As part of the Change Program and re-evaluating our official stances on everything, I would like to suggest a minor change.

In secular society, many workplaces have what they call a "no inter-office relationship" policy. This means that no dating, non-sexual affection, or sex, is allowed between co-workers. There are many reasons for this--favoritism between a leader / team member in a relationship, debilitating office gossip that tends to follow inter-office romance, tension that occurs when one partner wants to end it before the other--even cases of sexual harassment.

But the main reason inter-office relationships are frowned on is that it creates in the workplace an unfavorable climate towards ...working. Workplace decisions should not be clouded by the possibly career-impacting influence that stems from an emotionally charged atmosphere. So "fishing off the company pier" is looked on negatively, and "getting your honey where you get your money" is discouraged.

In the Family we now have a longer term vision, and just like we're learning the hard way about higher education, secular employment and schooling, etc, I wonder if we either should now or will eventually have to come to grips with the inter-office dating that runs rampant through our workplaces.

People, we should only allow sex / dating / relationships with outsiders! This would mean, conversely, no sex / dating / relationships whatsoever with other Family members (with the possible complication / exception of marriage).

If you are allowed to date your witnessing partner, you can't help but eventually consider it. Soon, your work time and energies, instead of going toward the Offensive begin to be taken up by small emotional conflicts and quickies. You start holding hands when you're out, and eventually you're thinking more about what your partner is wearing / thinking, instead of feeding the sheep sitting before you.

All of this is augmented considerably if he or she is the only person you can feasibly date in your entire city or area.

Very few people, devout Christians or not, are mature enough to separate their professional and personal lives when the two come into such close contact. Human nature craves too much that interaction with your significant or not-so-significant other. The lines gray between work and play, and when there is an area witnessing offensive, manpower flocks to it, abandoning their own works. --But not for the witnessing as much as the sex. And then entire stable missionary works can be upset by the accidental babies that occur in opposite ends of the continent.

And life becomes difficult when you have to continue living with or having contact with someone after it's over. If one of you doesn't move far away or stop frequenting the same places, then there is a mountain of working out to be done, usually during work hours. Either way, the Offensive takes the hit. Although we're all very dedicated people and experts in many spiritual areas, I don't know if you can expect us to be relationship experts too.

If you want to be successful in your work life and communal life, support the Date-an-Outsider project--and keep your personal life where it belongs.

Trust me, i know.

*

The 5 Totally Hottest Apostates Ever (of all time)

2009-08-02T16:53:00.000-07:00

In celebration of our new and continuing sense of positive relations with our ex-members, this blog has decided to announce for your benefit the 5 all time hottest apostates ever. Looking past our differences and focusing on the shallow things in life that really matter, the criterion are, 1: that they are or have been genuinely and actively at odds with the Family, and 2: that they are hot. Countdown.

Hottest Apostate Ever #5:
Juliana Buhring

Together with her sisters, this fine young lady recently co-wrote a bleak anthology on allegedly negative past experiences in the Family, promoting it through TV appearances and a widely circulated website. This, together with her pouty smile, statuesque neckline, and beautifully etched features, qualifies her smashingly as the fifth hottest apostate ever.

Hottest Apostate Ever #4:
Miriam Padilla
An experienced globetrotter extraordinaire, this lovely woman has helped to incite persecutions in Japan and Argentina, among other places. She has great taste in jewelry, knows how to accessorize, and while worried for our safety, somehow manages to look downright sexy.

Hottest Apostate Ever #3:
Jim LaMattery

Old fashioned good looks and a killer smile make this bright man a prime candidate for the first of our top three hottest apostates ever. An apostates' apostate, and a true professional, this man knows how to make his opposition count--even to the point of drawing criticism from other apostates. He has been banned from certain ex-member sites, and threatened to sue others in his whirlwind of righteousness, but always manages to bounce back.

Hottest Apostate Ever #2:
Cherish Lloyd
This outstanding woman whose amazing looks have only been surpassed by her wits, is currently deceased (kidney infection). May she rest in peace. She made TV appearances across Latin America with a counter-cult purpose and a tale to tell... but all I could think of was how beautiful she looked when she was angry. She went on to earn a Bachelor of Fine Arts degree in Photography.

And #1 Place for the Hottest Apostate Ever of all Time goes to...
drumroll...

Davida Kelley
Our undisputed winner, as a foxy adult fetish model and talented actress, left the other apostates no chance. Her slight disagreements with our lifestyle and occasional conflictive campaigns pale beside her ravishing looks and voluptuous body. And red suits her gorgeously. Under dreamy eyes and luscious lips, lies a passion for passion unsurpassed by any other apostate to date. It's an honor to be fought by this one.

So let's live beyond our differences and realize that we're all just a bunch of hot people fighting each other. Why not stop and admire each other for what we are and what we like, rather than what we aren't, and what we dislike. We'd all look hotter in love than in hate anyway.

In Defense of Like

2009-06-15T20:16:00.000-07:00

I would like to make a short apologia for the common usage of 'like' in today's English. Displeased critics often attempt to mimic the singsong banter of youth by placing 'like' in front of every word, and then rolling their heads in disgust. Critics, it is often you who are most responsible for the misuse of this word! We who use it know what we're using it for, and there's a definite set of rules that go along with if you want to pick it up. It's also just plain not funny anymore to put it after every single word as a way of mocking young people.

So listen and learn.

'Like,' in today's colorful usage form, was first made popular almost 40 years ago by a California freshman subculture widely known as 'valley.' 'Valleyspeak,' or 'Valspeak' as a sociolect came into being before some of you were born, and when the rest of you were still very young, so you really have no place rejecting it as a 'modern day' abuse.

'Like' is generally used:
To imply an exaggeration (it was like huuge)
As a filler (instead of 'um,' 'basically,' 'irregardless')
As a replacement for the word 'said,' a quotative (he was like, "hey")
To indicate something obvious (like hello)

Consider this:
Like was first used as a subordinating conjunction ('looks like rain', as opposed to 'looks as if rain were coming') in a 1954 cigarette ad, for which it received a similar outcry from critics.
In fact, "(t)he appropriateness of its usage as a conjunction is still disputed.... In some circles it is considered a faux pas to use like instead of as or as if, whereas in other circles as sounds stilted." (Wikipedia)

Two Wrongs

2009-06-06T19:16:00.000-07:00

Today we were out and we were in the car and I parked and turned it off and took the keys out and Clay was like, "Hey I forgot to roll up my window." So I was like, sure, and I put the keys back in and turned them and she rolled up her window. Then we all got out and I was like, "Everyone remember to lock their doors." So then we all slammed our doors shut and started walking to the restaurant.
Then about halfway there I was checking in my pockets and all of a sudden I was like, "OMG, where are the keys?" And I realized I had left them in the car. So we were all, "Oh no what are we going to do?" So we go back to the car and the keys are still in there, the lights are on and they're still in the ignition. I checked my door handle just to be sure but of course it was still locked so then I went around to check all the door handles and by a miracle of God Clay had left her door unlocked even though I had made sure to remind everybody to lock their doors. So I was like, "Phew," and I went in and rescued the keys and we went to the restaurant.

So it turns out that TWO WRONGS REALLY DO MAKE A RIGHT!

5 Things I Love About Jesus

2009-04-05T08:33:00.000-07:00

Random: His ability to be random. I know he has a whole intricate plan for the universe and all, but I love how he can still be perfectly random about the things that don't have too much bearing on His plan. Like the bark on a tree, or where the next branch will pop out. Either that or it's not random at all and that branch needs to be exactly there for the universe to run right--but in that case I love how He can still make it look random to me, and I appreciate that much.

Intricate: The other side of random--his ability to be intricate. I love how he can make a whole career out of having seemingly random things happen to you, but then at the end they all come together like the usual suspects and make perfect sense and you're like, aha! It wasn't so random after all! I think that takes a pure genius.

Colour: His obsession with colour. But he's not like some psychedelic hippie God splattering fluorescent around with a wide brush where He trigger-happily pleases. He puts just enough khakis and greys so that when something bright and orange does spring out at you, you can still be like wow.

Passion: His way of being passionate about everything He does. Like for instance if I was gonna create an insect I'd be like okay, a head, few legs, a body--maybe a stinger or something. But He just can't stop at that. He has to get all into it--"Oh, and here I could add some antennae with trillions of little hairs on them to give the insect sentience, then maybe some fold-up wings to hide inside its shell, a compound eye, a few Malphigian tubes (yes, now I'm looking at Wikipedia.....but just to finish this sentence), a trochanter over here, mesothorax over there, and ah yes a subesophageal ganglion." (He's crazy.)
When I create a cloud, I start with a blank piece of paper. Then I draw a line on the bottom and three humps on the top. And I'm done. When He creates a cloud, first of all He has to start with an insanely complex background of atmosphere, then He bunches together millions of microscopic icy crystals (all with their own distinct form and six perfectly asymmetrical sides), an intricate water cycle to give meaning to that cloud, and of course shades of pale and grey to render it in full 3-D. Then He sends a wind and makes it dance.
See what I mean? He just can't seem to get involved in a project without giving it His best. And that's great.

Caring: How he cares. Boy does he care! He cares about everything! I mean every single little tiny microscopic little tiny itsy bitsy little thing. He actually cares about the life and times of every single blade of grass in My front yard. Probably breaks His heart every time a snail dies. Imagine how much importance He puts on YOU. Imagine the detail, care, and planning that must have gone into your existence, your life, and then death.
Wears me out just thinking about it. I am so lucky to have Him.

The Forsaken Frontiers of Sex

2009-03-16T19:51:00.000-07:00

When you look at the progress that as a species we've made in the fields of math or science, say, it is quite impressive. Or aerodynamics. You could study that stuff for years and STILL not know all that is possible to learn on the topic. There is also no way you could invent or discover all those enlightening things in one lifetime. It took us thousands of years of generations each building on what the other had learned to get to the insane amount of complex truths we have nowadays.

Back in the day, your father would come up to you when you turned eighteen. It would be time for that talk. He would say, "Look, son, there's something I have to talk to you about. I've been doing quite a bit of studying and research over my years, and now I'm getting to be an old man. But in that time I've learned that you can take one big rock and ADD it to another big rock, and then you'll have TWO big rocks!" It was simply amazing back then.

And then you could go on and study and research and discover that, wow--if you took those two rocks, and MINUSED one of the rocks from it, you'd be back at ONE rock again! So you'd pass that on to your son, and he'd go on and discover something new and wonderful in his lifetime. And eventually they were getting to cool things like division and Pythagorean theorems and nuclear physics. Today it takes at least twelve years just to get the minimum of knowledge you need to survive in these times.

See why the human race has such a problem with good sex? --You can't pass that kind of thing on to your kids!

Imagine your dad: "Hey, son, I want to show you this little trick that I learned on your mother." --It just doesn't work like that! One generation hasn't been able to build on the knowledge of the others before it, and thus discover great and wonderful new things. If your dad told you anything about sex at all it was probably vague and far too minimalist to actually do you any good. So here we are, still stuck in the sex stone age adding big rocks together.

Eventually they invented sex experts, who try to do their best--but we've already lost thousands of years of time that could have been spent discovering wonderful new things about this crucial field of research. We're still like, "Uh, I just put it in and wiggle it around, right?" when, imagine, we could be onto polynomial orgasms to the thirteenth power and astro-fusion sex positions. This deeply saddens me.

So, it's up to us. (Someone has to take sex seriously.)

I commission you, for the good of humanity, to go out and learn all there is to know about sex. But once you've done that, don't stop there! Build on that. Discover new things with your partner. Multiply! Divide! Calculus..ify!

And write it down! For God's sake write it down so other generations can benefit from it, and discover more, braver, newer things. And we, we will not be satisfied until we have sent a man to the moon! It has finally come the time to push back the forsaken frontiers of sex in the name of higher learning. In the name of mankind!

Godspeed.

Joe.

Sex makes everything complicated

2009-03-10T23:52:00.000-07:00

--Even when you don't have it, the not having it... makes things complicated.

Which is why it's usually better to have it.

...some say.

--The Holiday (2006) (look it up)

Bitterlind Syndrome

2009-02-24T18:55:00.000-08:00

(ML 32:7)
JENNY LIND, THE FAMOUS SWEDISH NIGHTINGALE, was considered one of the greatest popular singers of her day. Her music teacher said, "Jenny, you've got everything to make you the world's greatest singer, but one thing!" "What in the world is that?" she asked. "I practice all day long, and you say I have tremendous range, versatility, and talent! What haven't I got?" "To make you a truly great singer", he replied, "you have to have a broken heart!" So he thereupon proceeded to break it for her! She fell in love with him, and he jilted her. Then she began to sing from her heart!--The songs she sang became her own--songs of loneliness and tears--not just a collection of words and music--but it was her own heart cry!

Yes, that's a beautiful story, but what about the music teacher? Oh, he was villified and demonized in all her songs hence, when she failed to recognize the favour he was doing her. Also, from then on she was a b%$@** to every other guy she ever met, even causing a few to actually die of broken hearts. Hopefully this got back to the music teacher, to which he probably rolled his eyes.

I'm telling you people, it's all in the way you look at things. Are you a jerk? Or a music teacher?

So Damn Meaningless

2009-02-04T18:00:00.000-08:00

(NOTE: If you were referred here by a strange comment on your webpage or in your email, unfortunately that was placed by someone who does not like me and is trying to take this post out of context to hurt you. May I suggest we use this odd coincidence to have some fun instead? Here look at this one, it's fun! --Ur Beautiful. Or this one! --So Last Night Was Healthy After All.)

***

I am going to show you a video of a beautiful song, with a purpose.

Atrophy, by The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus. Have a listen.

Thousand Dreams music video -- Caney Creek Heroes

2009-01-27T11:37:00.000-08:00

I love this song.

Thousand Dreams music video -- High quality download
Thousand Dreams song download

Click on a title to download.

Immortality By Death

2008-12-06T19:10:00.000-08:00

Do you hate the System and the heartless monster it has become?

Do you hate the Christless churches and how they bloodthirstily martyr any true believers who dare to step out of their molds?

Do you too have a burning passion to turn this world upside down with Love, no matter who or what stands in your way?

Then this album is for you.

Immortality By Death (click to download)
(Lyrics and album covers included in zip file)

Mirror 1:
Immortality By Death (click here for slower, direct download)

Welcome to a new world of quality music for the Offensive. Composed entirely of heavy metal witnessing songs, Immortality By Death tackles the answers to some of life's toughest questions in a thrilling new, Generation Y presentation. Get ready to shake your country to its foundations. Turn up the volume and prepare for the energy that will boil your blood and make your hair stand on end.
Immortality By Death is melodic death metal, guaranteed to make you sad, glad, or fighting mad.
Let the metal move you.

____________________

IMMORTALITY BY DEATH:
01 Branded a Heretic
02 Forsaken in Death
03 Life Once Lost
04 Blinded Eyes (Feat. Amaranthine)
05 Requiem For a Dream (Feat. Amaranthine)
06 What Dreams May Come/One Day*
07 BONUS TRACK -- Kiss Your Life Goodbye (punkpop remix)

____________________

CREDITS:
Screamed Vocals - Caleb
Clean Vocals - Joe
Guitars/Screamed Vocals - Danny
Guitars/Bass - Karen
Drums - Paul

Lyrics: John, Danny, Sonny
Music: Danny, Paul, Randy
*One Day written by Hans Zimmer

Mixing - Danny
Production - Danny
Mastering - Steven

Special Thanks To: "Shem for sponsoring the recording of this (album), Joe Amaranthine for lending us the magic of his spellbinding vocals, Steven McNair for using his talented ears and valuable time to master these songs, Ntl for his advice on the recording and mix, Anna for the five minutes she spent helping us create Requiem For A Dream, DJ/RICO/Rick for the labours of love they spent building the studio with us."

A Study on Exclamation Marks in MO Letter Titles!

2008-11-13T20:14:00.000-08:00

Have you ever noticed how many of those old MO Letter titles have an exclamation mark at the end? It's like you look down a Lifelines index and that's all you see--The Dead Body! The Sad Trip! Correspondence Between Dad and His Brother in the US! Everything's just so exciting. You wonder why we loved Dad so much, well he was just so excited about everything. Solitaire! Members! The Psychic Cat!
I decided to count them. Well, why don't you just get an Index and do a search for the number of exclamation marks.....................no! Every single computerized ML Index--Infostore, MO site, stolen apostate files--have all the original exuberant punctuations removed by the grim and boring editors.Luckily, I found that the Main Menu in Infostore still has the priceless relics of enthusiasm hanging at the precipices of its MO Letter titles, so I decided to start there. One problem: the search there doesn't give you a total found number, just a one by one display of the next exclamation mark in the list. I would still have to count them.
I found that counting clicks on the 'Next' button audibly was faster than visually, so I sat there for a good 45 minutes hammering away at the keyboard to get these for you. For you!

At the end of it all, it came down to 2810 exclamation marks in the 3663 MLs in my Infostore. That's a huge 79%!--Of all MLs ever!--Have exclamation marks!

Here's a graph of the percentages of ML titles with exclamation marks:
You can see that, although we began at a rather low 32%, we have climbed almost exponentially until peaking around the time of Grandpa's death at a massive 81%, and then levelling off somewhat under Mama, to a more professional 79%.

Studying this graph, you can actually date the enthusiasm level in the Family at any given time, and judge whether it fell between super wow or just wow. As you can see, we were at hyper turbo super charismatic wow levels up until about 1982 (1200 exclams--ML #1694), after which we slow down a bit. Then in 1987 (1800 exclams--ML #2352), we shoot up again a little more turboish, and then slow it down, still climbing.

And if all this exuberance is making you cringe, well just check out the look of the original homepage of the Forbes-500-conglomerate-monster-to-end-all-monsters--Google itself! Is that an exclamation mark behind the giant? --Or Yahoo!'s current homepage! Or Jeopardy! It seems to me that entrepreneurs in general have a high level of enthusiasm about things the rest of us would consider mundane (like The Potato! .......for instance.... [#718]).

Joe.

Fun facts about our history of excitingness:

The first 100 exclamation marks came at ML #306 (Sex Works). (There's some kind of code at work here telling me something).

Some MLs even have more than one exclamation mark! 'Sorry, Judas!--It's Too Late to Quit!' (772), or 'BIP Chapter 05--Jacob meets Rachel!, School of Laban!, and Jacob Becomes Israel!' (1143). THREE exclamation marks! In ONE Letter! (It's an exciting one.)

After Grandpa's death, you have three consecutive points just hovering at 81%--as if the Family had paused on the brink for a second, unsure of which direction to go with our exclamation marks.

Victory Over Comparing, Part 1 has no exclamation mark

Victory Over Comparing, Part 2!, however, suddenly got way more exciting!

The entire Conviction Vs Compromise Series! (that aren't questions) are punctuated with exclamation marks. This goes for the Law of Love Series! and the Loving Jesus Series! and every World Currents! that was ever made (105 of them).

All the Activate the World! series have exclamation marks......except for Part 7. (At least in the Infostore Main Menu)

The Choices and Consequences letters do not have exclamation marks.

Metanoya Music Videos

2008-11-09T19:58:00.000-08:00

In case anyone's interested...

Music videos Despising The Shame and What Good Did You Do, from Metanoya's second album. Songs are also available for download below at high bitrate.

Despising The Shame:

What Good Did You Do:

Despising The Shame
What Good Did You Do

(Click on a song title to download)

Joe.

5 million dollar reward for leaders of "The Family"

2008-10-07T12:52:00.000-07:00

My fellow brothers and sisters.....welcome to the End of Days.

"Ofrece sumas millonarias por los líderes de 'La Familia.'"

"We offer 5 million dollars to detain the leaders (of the group) who call themselves 'The Family'."

See the links below!

http://www.gendetta.com/?p=1041

http://cyanide257.wordpress.com/2008/09/25/la-familia-societys-saviours-or-sociopaths/

http://www.radiotrece.com.mx/2008/10/04/aparecen-narcomantas-en-oaxaca/

Joe.

Discourse On Unexplained Cerebrally Telesthetic Properties Of Felines And Other Domesticated Organisms

2008-09-20T10:50:00.000-07:00

Them: "Beautiful cover! What's on the CD?"

Me: "They're songs to help children learn things like good morals and good hygiene. It's also full of useful and interesting tidbits such as how cats can read our minds..."

Have you ever wondered why it is that scientists can't explain how cats can read our minds? I mean come on--they're scientists! They should be to explain such a simple thing as how cats can read our minds. But no, once again the great scientific method falls before a simple nature fact.

You have to watch out what you're thinking around cats. Whenever you're going to think about something very important, make sure to chase away any cats that are in the room and close the door. Cats can't read our minds through the door. I was washing the windows the other day--while thinking, of course--and all of a sudden I noticed our cat just sitting there beside me. It was obvious to me that he was reading my mind so I threw a raisin at him. It missed. But that was obviously because he blocked it with his mind. Cats can also block things we throw at them with their minds. Scientists can't explain that either.

I wonder if fish can read our minds too? They probably can. Imagine how creepy that would be, all these slimy things just floating around inside their little tank, reading our minds. Fish can probably also read cats' minds. But cats can't read fishes' minds because fish have learned to block the mind reading rays that cats give off. There's a very intricate psychic pecking order--or else how would they control all the mind rays going around out there? It's very simple actually. Just not to scientists.

And also................ no that's about it.

Joe.

Disclaimer: Content presented in this post not meant to be offensive or disrespectful in any way to Kiddie Viddies or the artists who collaborated on them, simply a humourous and exaggerated look at a colourful past.

Another Marvellous Way To Choke It Down

2008-09-16T21:41:00.001-07:00

Choke It Down

2008-09-12T20:27:00.000-07:00

And here's one marvellous way to choke it down!:

Kicking Up A Storm

2008-09-08T19:32:00.000-07:00

I wanted to make a post of pictures of Checko for no particular reason (other than that it will make my site a little more popular with the ladies, if you know what I mean). But then I remembered that it's my site so I decided to post pictures of Checko AND me and get twice the amusement value.

Watch the different stages... this makes me laugh.

Surprise MTVfest

2008-06-29T20:19:00.000-07:00

After so much silence from the international Family music scene (with the notable exception of TranslatedMusic [bravo])...

...new Family Music Videos. Sorry about the Youtube quality. If you need better quality, comment, and I'll try to post the full episodes. Also, scroll below to download quality copies of the songs.

Life is Kind (Desejo Meu) -- Gavin feat. Rachelle Spring
The Journey -- Salt of Earth
When Will You Come -- Rachelle Spring

(Click on a song title to download)

Burst levels: 7, 5, and 7.

Love, Joe.

My Month Too

2008-06-14T21:13:00.000-07:00

It's June! And all the June bugs get to live and breathe for just a month! Their month! Their very own, sunshine month!

I'm so happy for them.

Fetching Fridays

2008-06-03T22:29:00.000-07:00

And who better, honestly?
Love you, Mel, and celebrating with you.

ML 2750

2008-06-01T11:03:00.000-07:00

Allow me to be discouraged for once in my life. I'll go back to being your positive little bunny rabbit tomorrow.

My Day

2008-05-12T23:22:00.000-07:00

I just don't think it's fair to have to do something special for your mom on Mother's Day. I mean, she didn't do anything special for me on April Fool's Day.

haha.

Just kidding, mom, I love you.

What's It All About?

2008-05-08T20:33:00.000-07:00

1st in a series of infomercials I am designing to promote Activated. (Personal project, not in any way elicited by Activated).

You can download it from the MO site by clicking here, or just preview it below.

I believe this to be 'Fair Use' of the cited copyrighted material for educational and discussion purposes and to advance awareness and understanding of issues relating to spiritual growth and health.

'Fair Use' of any such copyrighted material is provided for in section 107 of the US Copyright Law. For more information, please see: www.law.cornell.edu.

Fetching Fridays -- Special Crush Edition

2008-04-23T22:14:00.001-07:00

This woman is so hot.

Katrina A.

--A for Adorable.

Anytime.

Anywhere.

So I Take The Bus

2008-04-08T22:06:00.001-07:00

When my sister's 2nd child was born, she was going to name it either Christopher Robin (if it was a boy), or Ariel. So she wrote a letter to our dad, asking for his advice.

He wrote back and said, Don't name it Christopher Robin, because there's a little boy in a famous cartoon series named that already. And don't name it Ariel either... because, in a hijacking, people with Jewish names are usually the first to be killed.

...

Which would explain why he named me Joseph David...

HE WANTED ME DEAD!!!

IN A HIJACKING!

Just messing around, Dad. I love you.

Polly the Gangster

2008-04-05T23:49:00.000-07:00

A video I just made...

I really couldn't help it.

Help Me With Something

2008-03-27T01:14:00.000-07:00

I never post pictures of myself on this website, so bear with me here. But I need four people's opinions.

YESTERDAY (above).

TODAY (above)

RANDOM FLUTE-PLAYING PHOTO

FDTP Documentary Preview

2008-01-30T22:16:00.000-08:00

FDTP Mexico 2007.

Documented evidence that lives were changed.

Coming soon.

(Happy Birthday, Leila.)

My Confessions

2008-01-23T12:24:00.000-08:00

I'm probably going to regret this as soon as I say it...

Hmm...

So I just won't say it!

Alright!

.

The Chocolate Clock

2008-01-18T18:05:00.000-08:00

Q What does a woman expect the first time you have sex?

A "We expect that it’ll be a little clumsy at first, then frantic and passionate, then over very, very fast. It doesn’t take that many first encounters to realise that few men can restrain themselves from coming for long when they’re inside someone new. As for us, we don’t expect to come at all (unless we get lucky and the novelty of it all sends us over the edge even before you get there).

"All of which doesn’t make it any less exhilarating. We’re intoxicated the moment we feel you through your trousers and realise we’re going to have this forbidden part of you in the palm of our hand and then other wetter, warmer places. It’s all so erotic it doesn’t take much at all to make this night exceptional."

Reprinted from original article in Men's Health, with fair use but without permission.

I Hate Rants On Blogs!

2008-01-07T22:04:00.000-08:00

I hate rants on blogs! They're so stupid!
There's nothing worse than a rant on a blog! It's so dumb, there's no point to it! All these people just spewing out the first things that come to mind about their bigoted opinions, just sounding like close-minded idiots screaming away at themselves. It's like, if you're gonna sit there and be all furious and start calling people names and generalizations just to support your own angry little thoughts because something riled you all up, well you should just go stand in the corner and I mean it. And that goes for all of you!
I hate people that rant on their blogs! It's so unloving! It just promotes all this anger and hatred and bad feelings going around and there's nothing uplifting or positive about it! Why do people do this?
And the little "solutions" they try to offer, well, they never work anyway. They're not well thought out, not prayed about, not offered in a well-rounded, balanced way, it's just the first thing that comes to the person's mind and they never work. People should just stop altogether.
They're just dragging down the blogging world with their complaining! They're painting bloggers around the world as this angry bunch of people with nothing better to do than vent their feelings on the Internet because they have no actual friends who will listen to them probably, that's what it is. All they can do is sit at their little computers and complain to the Internet because they're too gutless and nerdy to do otherwise. Well maybe they should just keep it to themselves and go talk to their shepherds.
For God's sake, stop complaining! All you people are doing is making a fool of yourselves, that's it. Go direct your anger at something positive and stop wasting your time writing posts that go on and on ranting about some dumb thing.
It's so stupid.
I would never do that.

Wordstock IV Music Videos

2008-01-03T23:45:00.000-08:00

Here are a few music videos produced at Wordstock IV:

Julie Greeneyes -- Just Hold Me

STEM -- Broken Arrow

(For Joan.)

Fetching Fridays

2007-12-01T08:02:00.000-08:00

Cover girl.
Splash.

A Good Sign

2007-11-21T14:23:00.001-08:00

Hahah! I know this is old. I know it was already posted on someone else's site, but it's just good enough that you have to see it here too:

What your astrological sign says about you!

Love, Joe.

Marlboro, red

2007-11-20T23:07:00.000-08:00

I bought my first pack of cigarettes yesterday.

Breakneck speed, low visibility. We turned left from a right hand lane, at the same time that a policeman was going straight from a left hand lane. We almost killed him.

Naturally, he pulled us over (us somehow more at fault than he).

He was shaking when he asked for the license of the vehicle's driver. The driver and the spanish speaker went to witness to him while the PR team went to call home.

We passed by the team in action, witnessing to the cop, and mentioned we were going to get a phone card to call the owner of the car. The cop was smiling by now and playfully told us to bring him a pack of cigarettes while we were at it.

I laughed at his joke.

Not the driver. He looked stern and held my eyes and said, "No, GET HIM A PACK OF CIGARETTES."

I said, "Ohhh."

And so it was that for the first time in my life at the ripe age of 23, I marched up to the counter at the convenience store down the street, leaned over and conspiratorially whispered into the coy lady's ear, "And a pack of cigarettes to go with that, please. Marlboro. Red."

By the time we got back, the Lord and the keys had done the miracle once again and we were free. The reds were the cherry on top of the deal, handed over because they were of no use to us anyway. One less "things I won't do."

Smile, wave, and drive your best as you drive away.

Congratulations!

2007-11-09T21:22:00.000-08:00

***

The newspaper cartoonist H.T. Webster once amused himself by sending telegrams to 20 of his acquaintances whom he selected at random. Each message contained just one word: "Congratulations!" As far as Webster knew, not one of his friends had done anything special for which to be complimented. Yet each person was so flattered that he immediately wrote him a letter of thanks. All 20 assumed they had done something worthy of a congratulatory telegram!

(Humility/Pride -- Good Thots)

***

That sounded like fun. So I randomly selected all of my Yahoo contacts and pasted in a good old mysterious Congratulations to everyone at the same time. And then quickly signed out.

Boy, do we have some humble people in the Family! Here are some responses:

"Ummm U heard what?"
"what was that for?"
"huh??? what u talking about?"
"congratulations for what?...did u send the offline to the wrong person"
"what? am I missing something?"
"you must've popped the wrong person"
"what did i do?"
"what r u going on about?"
"i am puzzled"
"uhh confused! what happened?"
"congratulations on what the heck?"
"what in the world are you talking about??!!!"
"what? huh? congratulations? why?"

...and best of all, this classic:

"Aww thanks!! You're so sweet! You did a great job, too!! Pretty impressive!!"

Darling.

So I sent around the story blurb, and another Congratulations to each one--for real this time. They had passed the test.

Try it with yours!

Love, Joe.

a Polka for the People

2007-10-16T21:37:00.001-07:00

A collection of some of the most beautiful ballads I have yet to hear--poignant and aptly touching in such beauty-for-ashes times as these. Masa's quivering, highly-charged tenor cuts straight past the skin to the heart and pierces into even that, while Cherish rounds off the ardour with an innocent and playful, yet extraordinarily competent, cultured touch.

The amazing thing about these is that most of them were originally meant to be quick, exclusively demo tracks, with little thought toward the clamorous competition of contemporary music, despite the sheer uncommon genius of the songs themselves, as well as the quality and distinction of the guitar accompaniment. They quickly caught on, however--hands in their pockets, whistling as they strolled up the charts--the rare gems of ambient folk hits in a college rock world.
"This encore is for you."

01 Give Me The Music
02 Waltzing (personal favourite)

03 Encore (personal favourite)

04 Time To Love
05 Changed
06 Marching Band (personal favourite)
07 Missin' You
08 Smell Of Rain
09 Enough (personal favourite)
10 That's Alright
11 A Prayer

(Sorry, this album is no longer available for download here)

Masa and Cherish -- Live (video)
(Click on video to download)

All songs written, performed, and arranged by Masa, with the following exceptions:
A Prayer written and sung by Cherish.
Waltzing and Smell of Rain co-written and sung by Cherish.
Time to Love sung by Gabe McNair.
Piano in Changed by Michael Fogarty.
Album cover by Joe Amaranthine.

Burst level 8.5 (of 10).

Love, Joe.

To Date, Or To "Date"?

2007-08-25T22:15:00.000-07:00

In the normal Family vernacular, to "have a date" with someone literally means sex. It means you are going to go to their room wearing something silky and easy to take off, slip under their covers whispering sexy nothings into their ears, and start kissing their neck as your fingers find their way under their shirt.
Although it is fun most of the time, and sure gets down to the point fast, this one bugs me a little bit. In society at large, "having a date" with someone, (or "dating" someone), means that you are doing special things together with them. You might start off with a romantic meal or a sunset in a park together. Sex may or may not happen (hopefully may), but it is not a given to start out with--you have to work for it--and not necessarily always the goal. It is the whole slow seduction process and the prolonged enjoyment of the other person, many times in a public setting, the tease, the game plan--the dressing (as in "salad dressing")--that builds up to the final prestige, that is missing.
"Let's have a date," in the Family, means, in general, "let's have sex." I wish we could make a conscious effort to change that, even just a little bit. Why not take someone out on a date TODAY! Go throw food at some pigeons, or go for a boat ride in a lake together. Go have a frappucino over heated discussion. Climb into her bed with no explanation, but a copy of "Entering Into Rest" under your arm--a Word date! Go out just the two of you and play romantic songs to each other under a birch tree. THEN kiss her! THEN take her home with you! Seduce her instead of just the given one-liner. Try it!

Love, Joe.

PS
Since writing this, I have found good use for that line and the casual sex that suffixes it. It makes the whole asking process a lot easier. I have also noticed a prevalent flocking towards Borat's succinct colloquialism "sexy times," as a comfortable way to refer to the subject without embarrassing yourself.
The things we adopt to avoid just saying so.
Still, I think that if we became just a little more relaxed and familiar with just asking for exactly what we want, it might do us a lot of good. And who knows, maybe if we became a little more comfortable with bringing up sex in so many words when necessary... maybe we'd also be a little bit closer to throwing vernacular to the wind every once in a while--and asking her out for a real date.

Fetching Fridays

2007-08-24T22:10:00.000-07:00

Where All The Chics Are!

This is a classic mosaic of "chic looks." From the "faraway," to the "not bad," to the "you, and no one else," to the demure, downcast eyes, this is a Fetching for every day of the week.
And all the chics are in... the sparkling mission field of Africa!

Love, Joe.

Jesus Can Do Backflips In The Snow

2007-08-21T21:03:00.000-07:00

Jesus can do backflips in the snow
And on cold and snowy days
He likes to go out and play.
He can also build a snowman with a fro
That's why Jesus is the coolest Jew I know.

--Mike Paone and V8

PS with boring news about me:
I'M BACK! AND RAVING!

Fetching Fridays

2007-08-03T21:59:00.000-07:00

Where All The Chics Are!

A tribute to a plethora of massive older brothers. --To whom God gave size to match the magnificence of the treasure they would be needed to protect. Ruthie's dashing smile fits right in context.

Love, Joe.

Did You Know That...

2007-07-23T21:40:00.000-07:00

...whenever I am trying to put a label on a post, I have to cycle through all the letters of the alphabet to see which labels I already have, and which one(s) fit the post best? Because I don't have the faintest idea what my labels say, and I don't wanna create a whole new one for each post! Now THAT would be terrible! (FOR EXAMPLE: the post where i go on and on about how i choose labels for my posts) (OR: i still can't get over how cool this label thing is)
So here I go, Q, W, E, R.......

Love, Joe.

PS UPDATE
HEY. FDTP ROCKS. INTERNET IS SO CARNAL HERE. NOT TO MENTION FAR (the article above is a draft that I wrote before I left...hehe). AM LEARNING A LOT. 13 HOUR SHIFTS WILL DO THAT TO YOU. AM ALSO ENJOYING A LOT.
ONE THING I DON´T HAVE TIME TO DO IS GO THROUGH ALL THE RECENT COMMENTS AND EDIT THEM. I WILL AS SOON AS POSSIBLE BUT FOR NOW, IF THERE IS ANYTHING UNEDIFYING, FORGIVE ME, FORGIVE THEM, LOOK AWAY. AND TO YOU PEOPLE WHO ARE DOING THE WHOLE STAR WARS THING BELOW, ENOUGH OKAY. THANKS!

Fetching Fridays

2007-07-10T21:53:00.000-07:00

Fetching Fridays. And while we're on the subject of alliterations, I have one more for you--FDTP, or Brotherhood Academy to be more precise. I'm rolling on that long long road tomorrow.

But today!--

Where All The Chics Are!

Colombia! Lifespan city, where hot does not have an age ceiling! Ponce de Leon was waaaay off where he was looking in Florida.

Love, Joe.

Fetching Fridays

2007-07-05T22:46:00.000-07:00

Where All The Chics Are!

Europe! I love Europe. Italy especially is my favourite country, favourite food, favourite styles, favourite culture, favourite people. I even like Super Mario, but only cause he's Italian.

Um...anyway..... ya, I don't know exactly the country these ladies are from, I was just mentioning that I like Italy. I also just love beautiful, bright eyes--and this picture is positively glowing!

Love, Joe.

Small Things

2007-06-30T23:43:00.000-07:00

I hate July because then all the June bugs die.

A Constant Adventure

2007-06-27T16:44:00.001-07:00

I wish I could somehow show you all the marvelous wonders that are happening here at our new house out in the countryside. --One after the other like the plagues of Egypt... only... the opposite, wonder after wonder, day after day.

Well, it started with an ugly looking, pink trellis that is built over one of our courtyards (yes, we have courtyards). No colour coordination, just a random bright pink structure sticking out of the ground like a sore thumb covered with vines. Then the vines bloomed, and guess which colour the flowers were? An exact match. We began to realize that this place might have more surprises to it than immediately met the eye.

Every once in a while we will wake up in the morning and find that a new colour has burst out of the green chaos of plants and trees surrounding us, as one by one the dormant shubbery comes to life. Red has bloomed. Then a deep violet. Then orange sliced through the foliage. What will be next?

***

A rain storm. Blankets of rain dousing everything for miles around--including a few half naked guys running around the soccer field, screaming. The lightning couldn't scare us off! The thunder didn't dissuade us!

The hail did.

So we swept inside to regroup and a few hours later when we checked back outside, we were actually snowed in. Opening the door pushed back a swathe of hail that had piled up against it like a snowdrift. And everywhere, as far as you could see in the dark, the ground was covered with little glistening balls of ice. Think Mexico, desert, cactus! --Snow, freezing, ice! Pretty cool, huh? And it was still warm.

On further inspection, we found that, besides tons of ice cold... uh... ice... --besides that--our entire yard was peppered with millions of specks of random colours from the flower petals that the hail had taken to the ground with it. In every direction, a carpet of rainbows, a sparkling mosaic of splattered shreds of colour. Like a giant display of contemporary art, clashing hues haphazardly splashed onto a giant canvas by a Painter who knew exactly my tastes. And there was still plenty more colour in the trees for tomorrow!

The next night a another strange phenomena happened. Maybe it was just a time of year thing, like the June bug. Or maybe it was some kind of chain reaction from the storm that made the firefly larvae multiply and explode in number (the lightning that spawned the lightning bug). Now our yard is lit up from end to end with waves of flashing neon, yellow-green lights--literally like a massive Christmas tree. You've seen swarms of mosquitoes probably, maybe flies or gnats around your garbage. But have you ever seen literally hordes of lightning bugs?

We run through our soccer field like a city in the distance with a million tiny windows. The kids capture them by the hundreds and put them in jars all over the house. (They also found that if you squish one while his light is on, the light will stay on and you can rub it all over your clothes or on your face!)

I am enjoying this.

I wonder what will be next!

Love, Joe.

Fetching Fridays

2007-06-22T22:46:00.000-07:00

Where All The Chics Are!

India!
Look at all those beautiful colours, to match the beautiful girls.
Just look at it for a while, it gives off such a peaceful, open-air, free-spirited feeling. I am grateful for such variety!

Love, Joe.

What's Cookin'

2007-06-18T21:07:00.001-07:00

You know those times when a beautiful woman wakes you up on a morning of a weekend and hands you a menu that she made herself, with every imaginable breakfast delicacy on it? And she's like, this is to make it easier for you to let me make you breakfast! And you're like, whoa, no way! And so you select a few things: hmm, a French Omelet, some quesadillas, banana shake, ya some orange juice, and a few tomato slices. And some apple pie to finish it off.

Oh, no you don't? Oh never mind then.

Love, Joe.

Fetching Fridays

2007-06-15T22:13:00.000-07:00

Where All The Chics Are!

Wordstock again! What's up with this?

Charlotte says, "That chic in the middle is the hottest!"

Heeheehee.

Love, Joe.

Indigo: Chapter 4

2007-06-14T10:22:00.000-07:00

Chapter 4.

She said, “I did hear about the conversation at breakfast,” and kissed my fingers one by one. Evening found us, just as dawn had, wrapped in each other on the indefatigable divan.

There had been a timeless moment as I lay there late, alone, when I wondered if she would come. Then she materialized in the dark corridor and slipped into my arms and I knew that whatever mistakes or misjudgments I had made in the foggy, sleepless morning were forgiven. Chances came in pairs.

Or maybe in clusters, like grapes. I needed clusters. I was accident-prone.

I said, “Art is a passion of mine too.”

“Why had you not told me?”

“Beauty tends to render me inescapably speechless. Forgetful, perhaps.”

She slapped at me playfully, but I had meant it. She ran tender fingers up my neck, “I do not know how you managed to keep me out of the conversations. I would have thought my own poor example a tempting illustration to make your point.”

I sighed long and lingering somewhere inside of me. If she knew how close. “Your secrets are your own,” I whispered. My fingers were her own too and she found them and folded them in hers. Our thoughts floated for a while, hand in hand, in a calm sea of longing and prolonging. I said, “But tonight we shall not speak of art.”

She said, “We shall speak of gambling.”

And my fingertips found her chin and drew it slowly towards me. Darkness fell—closed eyelids traded for a whole new world opened to me.

Lips that were meant to meet stumbled onto each other, and a spark that had been left smoldering for too long burst into flame.

END

Indigo: Chapter ?

2007-06-13T12:32:00.001-07:00

Chapter ?

The author paused before writing. His pen quivered nervously just above the paper...

"Do you truly want the great finale?" he asked, with a whimsical smile upon his shadowed face. "Is that what you want?"

He laughed softly to himself. His crooked finger pointed out the window at the drawn moon. "Tomorrow," a cracked whisper whistled from between his teeth. "Tomorrow, before the setting of the sun, you shall have it."

Indigo: Chapter 3

2007-06-12T10:21:00.000-07:00

Chapter 3.

I awakened slightly chilled. There was a single satin sheet over me, ruffled and waving faintly in a breeze. I lay staring at the grass through the open doors, each one with its fine smudge of dulled shadow from a clouded sun. Windy morning? Sunny afternoon? Sunny and breezy midday? A small striped bee wandered past, a blithe and harmonic outlook magnifying my gloomy one.

I just wanted it to be night again so I could stay here, where I lay.

—Bask in my chill and indolence, like I yearned for (and deserved with every pore).

I stood up slowly and let the sheet slip down my thighs to the ground. The sliding feather touch sent chills up my naked back. I reached for my clothes on the bedside table and then stood there, cold, bare, staring at nothing—the garments dangling emptily from my hand. I had held intimacy in my hand last night, the gemstone of the profound touch of another human being, and I had let it slip away. I felt the fabric slipping through my fingers and let it go to pile at my feet, together with my shattered memories.

But I was here on business mixed with pleasure, and one of the two must go on.

I sat down to a table of prepared fare and quietly said grace. I mixed well with the other diners in the dining hall, I thought, like the milk seeping into the porridge. Not quite the same thing, but swirling around, joining thought and heart until the differences became indistinguishable.

There was much to talk about; news did not travel fast and I was a treasure house full of it. I joined in quickly, happy to have my mind occupied. The diners bartered opinions and speculations, the currency of everyone, young and old, valued the same. The king was well—aging but not slowing; the crops were bountiful; the style of the minstrels was changing.

“And what of art, my good man, in your section of the world?”

My section of the world was rich in art. A passion for the subject caused investments and sacrifices which were as yet unrivalled. Many were the bold styles and colours just now becoming in vogue by the efforts of the brave. The face of art too, I believed, was changing forever.

New talent was springing up under every branch imaginable. The very newest of names were becoming household words. And yet, there were still some who created in secret—releasing their works under a pseudonym, or not at all. Such a grave, terrible loss to the enlightened world that was just beginning to emerge.

In fact—

I had just stumbled upon one of these last night. She probably would not have liked to have it spread around, but it was not a lie. An artist myself, I needed a gracefully colourful illustration to spearhead the describing of my opinionated, distasteful situation. There was no harm in the spreading of facts was there? I would take on the role of storyteller, and she was my tale.

Perhaps with a little inevitable embellishment, the story would take on a life of its own, like a bonfire dancing under the moonlight. Perhaps this way my audience would feel the grieving deep in my soul, and understand why it grieved me. Performers play to their audiences, and carry only half the fault. Without the soil could the shoot blossom and grow?

I said, “In regards to art, possibly we could begin by looking much closer than we originally thought.”

It was for her good anyway, I reasoned—the veil ripped back and the riches streaming forth. Whose was the right to conceal such beauty in the first place? The gifts of God were given to be proclaimed. I will have justice and properness, shouted the knight-errant from the rooftops, raising his standard high—

The knight—

I had seen this knight in me before.

A haughty fellow.

I paused, in deep thought. Had not the arrogant knight trampled enough flowers in his noble quest? Might not the damsels in distress be better off left alone to manage their own business? Might not God be allowed to work in His own rambling, mysterious ways? Perchance my hobbling help would only complicate things. Maybe my two-edged sword was better sheathed.

Anxious faces awaited.

I said, “In regards to art… I am somewhat of an artist myself. On an amateur level, of course.”

I felt someone smiling at me—an angel perhaps—as I described passions that were my own to the dining audience.

Indigo: Chapter 2B

2007-06-11T11:06:00.000-07:00

We explored the deep recesses of her reticent mind and stopped to marvel at the harvest of brimming jewels that it afforded. We talked of her pleasant hours and of her favoured nooks and of whether or not she sucked on her finger after dipping it into the honey jar. We dug up our hearts and placed them on our tongues and watched them beat side by side. We talked of new things and of ancient, and managed to taste one or two of the other’s secrets.

But the desert was cold at night and the cold was arrogant and unrelenting—arch-rival to fervour—and powerful. We finally took the rope ladder again, to the ground. The cold was powerful, but separate us it would not. We wandered to a giant divan in the sitting room, she wise as serpents, and I harmless as doves. We sat down at first, and somehow our fingers locked.

I do not know how I found my arms around her, but her head was lying on my chest, rising and falling with my deep breaths. My fingers pleated circles into her temples, then traced her cheeks down to her stirring lips. I felt her voice in the caverns of my lungs, rather than heard it, and her breath was the breeze on my fingertips.

Her lips were soft as ripe strawberries to my touch.

We felt comfortable, familiar, like two interlocking jewels in a necklace. Her contour fitted to mine like some work of art of perfect proportions. (The artist within me re-awakened, perhaps. The gambler pushed him away and toyed with the smooth skin of her neck.)

Then something strange happened. Somehow, perhaps telepathically, perhaps as a last desperate leap for the privilege of existence—perhaps coincidence—one of the sparks within my heart jumped to hers. She sat up, perched tenderly over me, and turned to look into my eyes. “I am an artist,” she said.

So she was an artist, was she?

So was I. Well, amateur I would say—budding artist. An early fancy of mine that came and went with the daylight. Or perhaps with the night.

“Amateur of course, you understand. I have never showed anyone my pictures,” she said.

A woman artist was a rare thing. Not that I doubted the aptitude of the gender, only the climate of the times did not smile upon it. Perhaps I had stumbled upon more rare a dainty than I had first imagined.

She must have seen the spark in my eye, or sensed its origin. At once I saw a flame ignited as if by a rush of oxygen—a flame that can only be ignited by the convergence of two like-minded souls. Perhaps she saw the malnourished artist within me. She said, “Would you like to see some?”

My artist wrestled with my gambler—the one’s lithe limbs raking at the other’s gaunt, opportunist eyes. They tumbled around inside and I tried to keep on a mask of deep immersion rather than betray the two quarreling kings.

But we were so close!

Close to what?

Close to next time.

Next time will simply fade.

I opened my mouth to say, tomorrow, but it came out, “Can I?” I hoped she could not see me kicking at myself.

She gave a little nod and jumped up. I gathered my facilities and shrugged deeply as I waited for her return.

The canvases under her arm were displayed in front of me. They were beautiful, each exquisite line made into exquisite wholes—but I could not help but think that I was simply trading one kind of beauty for another. The beauty of touch for that of expression. Was not movement a form of expression anyway?

She turned the pages absently too, and we barely took in masterpiece after breathtaking masterpiece as if they were birds passing overhead in the midst of a duel. There was something amiss, something she was suppressing, but I could not tell what.

A tiger strolled by in a meadow of long grass, seeming to leap off the pages and into reality. Every skein of fur was replicated with care and detail, but they were lost to me. Were not the actual hands that turned the pages more beautiful than the most stunning illustration of such? Why could she not see this? The melody of her creations was striking in its majestic beauty, but rarely these days did I trade sleep for art. Living beauty had become my insomnia, not a sketched sham.

The futility of the symbolism and the proxy that we were making our occupation frustrated me, throttled my senses. But even more, I frustrated myself. I longed to permanently dismiss my conflicting fascinations in favour of one or other, but again found myself at their mercy. The pages blurred and snapped at me with leaden teeth and I shrunk away, back into myself.

The dawn found us piled again on the sagging divan, but this time there was an almost tangible coldness in my body holding her body, my hand holding hers. We parted emptily and cordially, as if all the discoveries of the night—not even yet distanced by sleep—meant nothing. I collected the various things I had brought with me to the bath from the stool on which they had lain for hours, and returned through the cold, early dew to the guest room.

And I slept.

Indigo: Chapter 2

2007-06-09T22:52:00.000-07:00

Chapter 2.

Business had taken me far from home, but I was not averse to mixing it with pleasure. One should always take the time. I met her at supper; our eyes tangled over the third course, and our feet over the fourth and fifth. By dessert, my mouth was watering.

I had passed this way many times; why had I not noticed before? —The twinkling eyes, cauldrons of coyness and shyness, the fire seen through them, the lips that drew me. My mind was on her throughout the activities of the evening. We watched a children’s play together, I and some friends, and she sat in a corner that held more interest to me than the play. At the end I applauded with the audience for the effort I had all but missed, and when I again looked, the alluring corner was vacant.

The hour was late though; I placed no blame. Any appeal the corner had had for her had most likely dulled with the dreariness of the slipping hours, and she was gone. I bid my friends good night and retired to the guest room.

***

I lay for a while, pondering, drifting.

The baths were back across the way—on the ground floor, inside the main house—and I suddenly felt unspeakably dirty. I gathered a towel and went determinedly towards them, but I must admit: this time I was nightcrawling.

But then, so was she, you see.

The blood in my veins began to tingle and race when I heard a bustle in the kitchen. I knew beyond doubt that it was her. I had to find out. If it was not her, well then, I was just a hungry lad anxious for a midnight morsel.

I paused with my hand on the door. I had come a long way that day, and though carriage was cleaner than horse by far, or foot, still the grime of the miles had accumulated. She would wait. It would be worth her while to wait.

I bathed without leisure in the hot drizzle. When I undressed, my mind was on the soap. When I rinsed, my thoughts fluttered to the towel and when I dried, my mind was in my sandals.

Finally I emerged, lathered more in steam than in the drops of water that remained on my skin. I sat on a stool and began to fiddle with my sandal straps. When I looked up, she was sitting in front of me.

She could not sleep, you see.

I knew how that felt. Racing blood forges insomniacs. It was sad that we as humans had to use excuses. But, looking into each other’s eyes, we knew that they were excuses, and necessary. We spoke for a while, each glued to the sonorous silhouette of the other. We spoke of simple and lacy things at first but quickly our minds and tongues intertwined from across the room with common vision.

She fascinated me, you see.

And talking was my nemesis of touching.

She wanted to show me the roof, so I followed her as absent-mindedly as my tingling veins permitted. The roof was reached by a thin rope ladder, which she scaled quickly. I had some difficulty at first, my legs were jellyfish in its tangles, but she told me where to step.

She came up here a lot, you see.

A fruit-laden branch from the top of a guava tree provided a kiss of shade to the roof in the desert daytime, and, though it was rooted night, was still her favourite spot. We sat underneath it, close to the edge of the roof. The tiny pebbles which often collected on rooftops burned into our backs and our feet dangled over the brink, challenging thirty feet of bone breaking space. Some unexplored chasm of darkness hung below, but, honestly, who bothers with those things when you are branding every pore of the other into your memory?

Indigo: Chapter 1

2007-06-08T16:05:00.000-07:00

Indigo

Preface.

Indigo is a tale of mistakes and miscues. It comes in a rush in a few settings, as if someone is anxious to get their story out. I try to put into it the heart and era that it comes with, written in the first person. I may not expound background or setting, for you may not be ready for the truth. But perhaps you are ready for the lesson.

Chapter 1.

The first time I was accused of nightcrawling, it had not been true. I was up foolishly late—sketching by candlelight. I was not yet twenty years of age, an artist, renowned by few but my dreams were none less valuable to me. I had made a mark on a freshly beckoning paper, one of a lifetime of many that I was not completely satisfied with. The blackened and scrubbed rubber that sat beside my pencil would not do, so I tiptoed downstairs to find a clean one.

As my bare feet touched the cold, marble ground floor, a shadow slunk across the room on the opposite side and paused beside the fountain. Someone was waiting beside the fountain. I was not thirsty so I walked past and retrieved what I was looking for from a cabinet where those things were kept, then returned upstairs. I finished my canvas, scribbled a perpetually unsatisfied signature at the bottom, and slept.

The next morning rumours were ablaze. It is said that rumours are jeweled lies from the lips of Medusa, and these were no exception. I had not been waiting up for anyone. I had crossed the room as a passageway, on my way to—it was none of their business anyway.

Some had seen me pause and reach to the shadow in the corner. Some had seen us links hands or lips and melt into shadows deeper than ourselves. Some had heard noises. Could anyone have missed her weighted smile and covetous eyes at supper in the communal hall?

Could I have?

I had not. The thought had crossed my mind at supper but I dismissed it prematurely as the kind of intent-less seduction that you take with a pinch of salt. I had not connected it later with the fountain and the darkness.

I denied it vigorously, and laughed with them at her. I ignored her deepened smoldering and held to my position, a knight-errant for the truth. The wanderer in search of light—for was not the truth to be told of more importance than a passing smile? She was not the most beautiful flower in the garden, which she already sensed, only now more profoundly as I engraved it into the minds of all around. I meant no harm, it was simply a means to clear my name, for did not a knight’s standard have to be raised high?

I could not help but think though—had she been ready to give me the world, and was I now tossing it back into her face? Had it been me—the object of the shadow’s affection? Would not I have been proud to have been what she waited for? Whether it was I or not, I will never know for sure. But I do know that if a figment had stopped and danced in the dark that night with her, it was likely a sprite of dark and fanciful colours, for I had slept well. Her tear-stained face, turned quickly away when she next saw me, was evidence enough to me of that, but I read nothing else into it.

She withered after that. They said she stepped into the street one day and a carriage took her to a hospital bed. She would recover, but the road would be long. When they had found her, her face had been washed with tears and pale. —Stained with the pain of her last moments, they said, but I knew better. Yes, last moments, but not the very final ones.

The first time I was accused of nightcrawling, it had not been true. But, oh! what a missed opportunity.

I had been young and intrepid, speciously single-minded. Was that not inevitable in the beginning half of every life? How could we escape it? How could we loathe it? Still, I did begin to loathe the artist which had spurred me on past her that night, and the arrogance on my lips in the morning. I began to determine a future of colourful seizure of the golden trophy of opportunity—moments lived to the full and emptied cups with moist lips. The proud artist within me faded as the gambler rose.

The next time the rumours burned, they would be true.

I would ensure it.

The sky became bluer and the roses a deeper shade of crimson. I played with passion in the morning and intensity in the afternoon. I guarded my lips from nothing but issuing malice, and I learned to care.

That was when I met—

We will call her Indigo.

Smile, dang it!

2007-06-06T10:26:00.000-07:00

(Jacinth Elerian speaking:) The freedom of the Spirit is such a beautiful, powerful thing. It is like an unobstructed channel of Heaven's richest goodness flowing down to you there on Earth. It is one of the most beautiful things that could ever happen, when one of you decides to let go of more of his Earthly restraints and accept a bit more of Heaven into his life.
You are so beautiful when you fill yourself with Heaven through being freer in the Spirit. You know what I need you to focus on in these days to become freer in the Spirit, and more powerful and useful on Earth? --Smile! That's right! Simply making a conscious effort to be one of those people who are always smiling. They light up the room, did you know that? That is the power they have. They channel directly the awesome floodlights of the love of God, straight from Heaven, into the livingroom--and I want you to become one of those people. Make it a point to always look happy, always be smiling and giving off love and joy vibes.
That will be a great victory if you can change your focus fully to this right now at this point in your life. Because you are a very happy person, you almost always feel at least content inside and are secretly loving it, whatever "it" is. The only problem is that you can walk around and people can have no clue because you are thinking hard or anticipating or focusing, they don't see that joy on your face and they miss the beautiful experience they could be having of being vicariously inspired to life and joy through someone else's countenance.
Well, I want you to give out that experience for free! And wholesale! Never withhold a smile from the people you walk past or sit with or are with. Make sure you are always smiling, or as much as humanly possible, when around others. And even when you are by yourself, you can still go out of your way to internalize this principle by smiling even if it doesn't look necessary. When you have fully made this point a major part of you, your fruit will be multiplied by many fold. I love you! Smile! (End of message)

Lucky Number

2007-06-02T22:09:00.001-07:00

365
That makes 12 mes-iversaries.

June the Second. Again.

Lucky me.

Love, Joe.

Fetching Fridays

2007-06-01T21:03:00.000-07:00

Where All The Chics Are!

Well, Wordstock, for one.
There is at least one secret that's out in this picture, which shouldn't be, and no I am not ashamed to still be talking about Wordstock. Just wait till I get to my review on STEM's performance--complete with an exclusive live video that you DO NOT want to miss. Oops, I'd better not write that or my secret will be out.

Go into all the world.

Love, Joe.

PS
Yes, I am aware that most of the women in this picture have moved and are no longer at the Wordstock site. --Thank you though.

Sex, Screaming and STEM: The Screaming

2007-05-28T13:35:00.000-07:00

Part Three: The Screaming
And by screaming, I don't only mean the banal, guttural noises proceeding out of the mouths of one singer at a time, and concurrently hundreds in the audience. I mean the screaming by of the days, the screaming feeling inside when you woke up (or when the attendees finally went to bed) (joke), the screaming of the Word in your hearts as it pinpointed one person in the spotlight (and that person was you), and, well, the screaming of Big Mike as seven of us threw him into the pool.

Big Mike is an appropriately named 300 pounds of pure muscle and brawn. He has a quick smile and a huge love for the teens... that and a lot of mischief.
Late one night he snuck up behind a poor, innocent-looking Steve (STEM, yes), and threw him into the pool with no compunction. Well, we weren't going to let something like that go so easily, were we? Plus, who wouldn't want to use this perfectly good excuse for a bit of playful vengeance, right?

Fortunately, there were no less than seven of us with the same idea. Fortunately, Kenji and Jer were amongst the crowd, not to mention Jason Wells (who had the idea). Fortunately, Big Mike was only a few feet away from the edge of the pool.

Unfortunately, however, I reached him first.

Foolish.

Also unfortunately, my hair got tangled up in his fingers.

We wrestled with everything inside of us, nudging him inch by inch closer to the dark water. Men went flying in every direction, but still we persisted. Finally with one final heave, the ground disappeared beneath us and a writhing, heaving ball of half-naked men plunged into the deep.

And it was all caught on camera. Stay tuned for the Wordstock 4 DVD!

That was fun. If only Mike hadn't been wearing his cell phone.

***

Anyway, screaming does also have to do with the actual voices. Not that many of us actually had voices by the second day. Truth is though, it wasn't the screaming that knocked our voices out this time. It was the dreaded Wordstock flu. I caught it the day before the event, and, thank You, Jesus, lost it halfway through. Others were not so lucky. I pray for them.

The band members fared well though. Many of them have actual healing miracles to testify to, and no performance was directy affected by the dreaded flu. In fact, they did splendidly. Screaming on stage WAS one of the highlights of this Wordstock. And I found their secret!

The Zen Of Screaming.

This is an instructional video by a certain Melissa Cross on how to perfect your scream, without losing your voice. Not to throw names around here, but most of the screaming bands at Wordstock have used this at one time or another, as well as the famed PaperClassFire from Mexico City. I haven't personally seen it, but it comes highly recommended as far as any non-Family reference material would. If YOU too are interested in screaming YOUR guts out, while leaving your throat intact, try it.

Love, Joe.

Fetching Fridays

2007-05-27T13:13:00.000-07:00

Where All The Chics Are!

Here!

Oh for a taste of that salt-spangled, ocean breeze. Is it even possible to contain this many gorgeous, beaming people in one viewfinder? Apparently so.

So, all the chics are.... good gosh, where was this again?

Love, Joe.

Sex, Screaming and STEM: The Sex

2007-05-24T19:46:00.000-07:00

Part Two: The Sex.

Wordstock 4.

In the daytime, I would be pointed out beautiful JTs that I should talk to, suggested that I choose their company over something else I really wanted to do, and as far as that went, He made it fun for me, and memorable, and so totally worth it. But let's not overlook a few other aspects of Wordstock 4.

After nightfall, that was when He went to work on His part of the deal. Goal Number Two, after doing everything in your power to help the JTs have fun, was this: have fun yourselves.

After the JTs went to bed every night, there were certain choices to make. There was usually a sports crowd and a dance crowd. Participation in either led to a completely different end, and the two didn't mix easily (at least not without a good shower).

Now, this may seem like an easy choice for any of you, and on the surface, yes. Any man in his right mind would choose skirts over sports any day... right? But there is just something about a well-lit indoor gym and a good team of worthy opponents that tugs at your ankles. After all, with some of the best basketball players in the Family finally within arms reach, one had to be able to hold his head up.

On the second night I said, no, forget it, I was going to stay in the non-sweaty section of the Wordstock property. Well, man proposes... and uh... even bigger men dispose of the plans of the littler ones. A giant weighing twice as much as me stormed through the doors, forgot the formality of cordially inviting me onto the court to play, picked me up, marched to the gym, and dumped me in a heap on the floor, no questions asked. I was going to play, and that was the end of it.

So I played. But I also found that by playing one or two games, then slipping out the back door to shower and change, you could satiate both groups of people, as well as both groups of inner cravings, and still have time for a snack or two before bed.

Fast dancing is inspiring. Either for musical interpretation (something which good songs heard by good listeners just seem to demand), or just to burn off some extra energy with a few well-placed twirls, there is simply nothing like it.

Slow dancing is a need. Human affection is something the body craves, and that's why slow dancing was invented. Without that factor, it will only puzzle you. For you who don't understand dancing (especially slow), this is the key factor you have missed. Touching other people and being touched in return is just as essential for your skin as a good cleaning, and even more essential to your mind than a good education. But then, music is what brings it all together. --You take away the beat and all you have is couples clinging to each other's backs, stepping on each other's toes, and wearing an endless, chanted, rutted circle into the floor.

But put all that together and you have the magic of dancing.

And that's what we had.

Some clever soul had come up with the brilliant idea to write each person's status on his/her bracelet, so that by the second night there were no questions and no worries. Still, I was grilled at least once: FD? Not on PS? Disease-free? Single, or with permission?

Only halfway serious, but really, these things are important, and I highly recommend making sure.

Of course, to most people, dancing has an end... and it isn't the dance floor. Let me take you there.

***

We leave the dance hall together. We have to pass through the gym first and it is dark and abandoned. We stumble over a chair but the exit is close enough and no bones are broken. My room is a short, hilly walk away, and we have plenty to talk about on the way there.
Providence had given me one roommate--a Team Leader. You see, Team Leaders are supposed to sleep in the cabins with their teams, so he never showed up.

I have put the two single beds together, and covered them with a large, billowy, white sheet, a soft blanket and plenty of pillows. The room is immaculate: it is always two people that mess up a room--one person by himself can keep it quite clean. I do have a stock of fruit on one of the shelves in case you get hungry. The rest is up to us.
I always forget the Do Not Disturb sign, but no one comes out here at 3:00 AM anyway. When our eyes close, we will sleep well. I hope I can say the same for our neighbours. I hope the walls are thick.

Love, Joe.

Fetching Fridays

2007-05-22T13:06:00.000-07:00

Stay pasted for a few more juicy articles on Wordstock: The Sex, Screaming, and STEM, coming soon. But first, a little ode to the hometown! And Charlotte, I LOVE YOU!

***

Where All The Chics Are!

Guadalajara, Mexico! Paradise! Lucky me!
My birthday party, what a fine and glorious day. And as the North Star shines above us, between Kristy and Sherri, we bask in its smiling glow and, LET THE BALL BEGIN!

Guadalajara--that's where all the chics are.

Love, Joe.

Sex, Screaming, and STEM

2007-05-18T11:34:00.000-07:00

Admit it, that's really what you want to hear about.

I have to tell you that some of the hype is faked. Like when they say, "Okay, everyone in the crowd mosh for a few minutes with all the lights on (so we can get a few good camera shots)." Or when it's, "Is everyone excited to be here? I can't hear you! Scream louder for all the people back home!"

But that's only because capturing down a good dose of the spirit for the record, is hard to do.

But the spirit is real.

Imagine that electric spirit--300 barely known people with similar backgrounds/beliefs, gathered together with two goals: 1, to help the JETTs and teens have fun, and 2, to have fun themselves. Can you imagine the potency in those possibilities? Add love and genuine concern to those explosive ingredients, and you have something that will never die. You have Wordstock.

Love is such a major part of Wordstock. I ended up spending every meal with a different group of JTs, in a different exotic place of the dining room, and I tell you that THAT is where the fun in Wordstock is.

During daylight hours, every extra second (not spent in class or work period), I tried to do my best to grab ahold of a JETT or teen and get to know them. They are thrilling people! In a lot of cases they were even funner than the staff! I am happy to be able to now call many of them my new friends, to be able to add so many of them to my Yahoo contacts, and to have spent the majority of my time there with them. They are the true gold of Wordstock, and I can honestly say that--even though coincidence handed me a room all to myself with a double bed, the best kitchen access in the whole camp, and so many new musical goodies that it's going to be hard to release them all. The JTs--not the sex, screaming or STEM--were really the highlight of Wordstock to me, and what made the $250 worth it, and what I hold in my heart and smile to now, after the fact.

Just having an opportunity to get to know some of them, to try to pour out to them some of my enthusiasm for my Lover and for my Career, and to listen to them, pray with them, pose with them and hug them--that's what I wouldn't trade for anything else I experienced there. That's what I want to emphasize before anything else.

And you JETTs and teens, you know who you are--I salute you. You astounded me. I love you, you are wonderful, I miss you and I can't wait to chat with you and to see you again (I hope, eventually). Let's just get that straight before anything else.

And then...

...Well, there was still the sex, the screaming, and the STEM.

To be continued.

Love, Joe.

Praise Time: Songwriting! (How-To's). Part Three: Banda

2007-05-09T10:46:00.000-07:00

I like putting these juicy little notes on here before the actual post, they're like appetizers. Well, I have a juicy one today.
As of 9:00 PM last night, I am now the VERY LAST PERSON IN THE WORLD who has been ACCEPTED TO WORDSTOCK IV!
You know I don't like news, but I am going to allow myself capital letters and even a few exclamation marks.
Let me just say that I decided to apply at the last minute as a representative of all you people who won't be able to go this year (isn't that cosmic?). Even all of you who have never gone at all! Me neither! So I am going this year as an official representative of each of you, and together we'll find out what all this hype is about. And with that I give you the last and best episode of our Praise Time: Songwriting Trilogy.

***

Praise time: Songwriting!
(DISCLAIMER: You don't have to be a musical Home to do this praise idea!)
* Put together a list of song titles. Kids' songs or very common praise songs are ideal. Below is a list of song ideas.
* Divide your Home into a few groups of 2-5 people, depending on the size of your Home. Cut out the song titles and place them in a hat or bowl.
* Have each group pick out a song title and give them 3-5 minutes to come up with praise words that fit the tune of the song they chose.
* Have each team take turns presenting their praise song to the Home.

Part Three: Banda.

Try it yourself at your next devotions!

Fetching Fridays

2007-05-06T01:10:00.000-07:00

For the next few Fetching Fridays, we're going to start up a little series, since we like those so much.

Where All The Chics Are!

Here they are! --The Girls... and Shane! Lucky Shane.
You may recognize a few of these iconic ladies, or not, and you may even recognize Shane! Whether you do or don't though, sit back for a minute and imagine yourself there, surrounded by colours and beauty, and probably wild animals. Isn't it a cozy feeling?

Uganda--that's where all the chics are. (Thanks, Jaz!)

Love, Joe.

Praise Time: Songwriting! (How-To's). Part Two: Chubby

2007-05-02T13:00:00.000-07:00

Here is the second video in that series you've all been waiting to comment on! I've got to mention first of all that Charlotte de Gaalon wrote this song below. Love you!

Praise time: Songwriting!
(DISCLAIMER: You don't have to be a musical Home to do this praise idea!)
* Put together a list of song titles. Kids' songs or very common praise songs are ideal. Below is a list of song ideas.
* Divide your Home into a few groups of 2-5 people, depending on the size of your Home. Cut out the song titles and place them in a hat or bowl.
* Have each group pick out a song title and give them 3-5 minutes to come up with praise words that fit the tune of the song they chose.
* Have each team take turns presenting their praise song to the Home.

Part Two: Chubby.

Second of a 3 part series. Stay tuned for the last (and best) part!

For Your Cannons

2007-04-27T16:55:00.000-07:00

Perhaps this may come across as stinging.

Why is it that every time I post a devotional excerpt, gratitude activity, multimedic class, appreciation sound bite, or something along those lines--ziiiip, nothing! Everyone is as quiet as mice, except maybe my mom or someone who will open half an eye to say something like, "Alright, very amusing, now let's get back to what we were doing."

But then if I happen to post the slightest little thing that might strike you as more audaciously worded than you are used to, or eccentric in your golden opinion--suddenly I am the Demon of Woe himself, and you are up in arms against this conniving threat to friends and Family. "We can't let this happen! We must stand together! How dare he! Get a life! Curl up and die!"

I'm sorry, what?

Admit it. You come here with your sleeves rolled up, looking for a fight. It's not that I'm a combative person. I have my share of photos and testimonies and perfectly normal things. But you're not here for that. You're looking for someone to slug (possibly me). Aren't you? --Europe? --Africa? --And you in the back there, from California? I see you.

You could find plenty of positive here if you wanted. You could relax and really enjoy yourself--and talk about THAT. And if occasionally something goes down sideways, you could be like, "Yo--molasses? I don't know about that...." And I could take it back to the Lord and we could all be balanced and well-rounded and best of all happy.

But you don't really want that.

Alright, fine. You come here for controversy, that's what you want, who am I to deprive you of it? Have some controversy on a little buttered dish. Sit back and amuse yourself, and if it strikes you wrong, well click that little button and spew your heart out to me (who will only handle it carefully, or delete it if it is a bad sample or spirit).

Go ahead, watch this. You may as well, you came all this way.

Oh, and do come back tomorrow for a picture!

Love, Joe.

Praise Time: Songwriting! (How-To's). Part One: With A Quack

2007-04-25T13:31:00.000-07:00

Praise time: Songwriting!
(DISCLAIMER: You don't have to be a musical Home to do this praise idea!)
* Put together a list of song titles. Kids' songs or very common praise songs are ideal. Below is a list of song ideas.
* Divide your Home into a few groups of 2-5 people, depending on the size of your Home. Cut out the song titles and place them in a hat or bowl.
* Have each group pick out a song title and give them 3-5 minutes to come up with praise words that fit the tune of the song they chose.
* Have each team take turns presenting their praise song to the Home.

Part One: With A Quack

First of a 3 part series. Stay tuned for the next juicy episode!

Ethereal

2007-04-18T16:28:00.000-07:00

I'm not going to vouch for this "album," simply because, to be quite honest, I don't yet like it. There are very good reasons but I'll leave it at that.
I will direct link you to it, for those willing and adventurous enough to venture forward in the name of new Family music.
I am posting these direct links, 1: because they are there, and 2: because maybe enough people sitting through 2 hours of similar sounding, 10 minute-each "demos" will inspire these guys to actually record something real. Informed of their situation (different locations, busy), I still know they can do better. You get 4 talented European musicians together and you dress them in robes with hoods, give'm the balls enough to go out on stage in front of hundreds of people like that--AND YOU'VE ALREADY GOT CHEMISTRY! It's there! --Just waiting for a little kick in the ...impetus ...to get things started.

I hereby give you: Ethereal, The Album

(Alphabetically)

Art Of Dependence
Blood Of My Eyes
Broken
Choose
Disciple
Enigma
Fill Me
Fly To Fall
Give Us Our Sons
Pitiful World
The Mystery
Time
Why
You Are Mine

Love, Joe.

PS
Since a few comments have been made to the effect of, "Okay, their music isn't that great, but they sure are fun live," --in their defense, I would like to share that live experience with you!

Ethereal, live at EuRoCk.

Fetching Fridays

2007-04-14T08:18:00.000-07:00

Isabelle, Virginia!
These smiles are to die for.

Gio Launch

2007-04-08T20:37:00.000-07:00

*THIS GUY HAS MY FULL BACKING AND DESERVES YOUR SUPPORT*
Please, even if you don't like or agree with me, this guy is a true missionary, who needs your help!
And his goal is to leave on the 25th.
Of April.

...17 days.

***

Umm… Hi! I’m Gio, and it is very nice to meet you.
I’m a Family missionary and disciple—penniless, of course, but I manage. I have all that I need, as I need it.
You probably haven’t heard yet—but I’m moving to Ukraine.
Okay, I’ll just say it; I need your help. I am estimating this trip at 2,000 USD. That is, the ticket, the landing funds, everything else I will need—it all adds up to that much.
It’s all about adding up. If you can help me with what you can, even almost nothing, and everyone else can too, and ta da, you answer my prayers. It’s just added up pocket change (or, sometimes, your Home’s missionary fund), and I’ll love you for it.
Then, maybe months or maybe years down the line, when you need this same type of help, I’ll be there, and so will 1,999 others, and we’d do what we can to help you.
Of course, you can also pray for me, too.

*IF YOU DIDN'T CLICK THERE, GO BACK AND DO IT*

Let The Magic Begin

2007-04-01T13:19:00.000-07:00

Because prayer is a dynamic of the spirit, it tends to conflict with the carnal mind. In the flesh you may see prayers as mere words uttered from your mouth; you don't always see the full effect of your prayers, especially when prayer has always been a part of your life. But if you'd look at prayer through the eyes of the spirit, you'd see the vast amount of heavenly magic that is at your fingertips, magic that turns prayers into reality, that makes the impossible very real and possible.

(What do You mean, magic?)

I am your Great Magician, with the greatest power ever known. In fact, you could never really know all of My power; that concept is beyond you. But what you sometimes neglect to see is that through your prayers you have access to that power. With a mere thought I can change the tides and seasons, give life, and create something from nothing. You are privileged to be able to tap into that power, but I must require some effort on your part. Prayer is that effort, it's the step that you must take that then enables My magic to come alive in your life and in the lives of those you pray for.

(Well, hey, if You're the greatest Magician, and our prayers can make impossible things happen, how come it takes so long for some miracles to come to pass? Why do I have to pray and pray and pray sometimes before I see it work?)

Remember that in Heaven time does not have the same constraints upon you, so what seems like an indefinite period of time for you, in Heaven could be an instant.

(Oh, that's pretty cool.)

You're limited by your carnal view on time, and one of the greatest lacks of humans is patience. You struggle all your lives to learn the meaning of patience. So when I say that prayer works miracles, you want to always see them happen right then, immediately, as much as possible. But in jumping to such conclusions you often miss all the workings that must go on behind the scenes in order for the miracle to come about.Although I can do the miracle magic in an instant, I must also, to a degree, work within the limitation of the physical world, so that not only do you receive the miracle you asked for, but all things are then set in place for greater miracles to come. And through the process you and those you pray for are strengthened and taught lessons in spirit.

(So it's like one of those domino things, just weirder.)

See prayer as the magical phrase that releases the answers you need. Sometimes I may expect you to repeat it numerous times, but that's not because My magic is "broken" or not working, rather it's that there's something for you or the person you're praying for to learn first, before My full magic can be activated. But even when the answer takes a little time in coming, your prayers are still sprinkling the stardust magic on the individual or situation you're praying for, and little miracles are happening, eventually to climax in the complete magical miracle you've requested.

(Isn't it nice when things just... work?)

Love, Joe.

Fetching Fridays

2007-03-17T23:31:00.000-07:00

Fetching Fridays

2007-03-10T18:05:00.000-08:00

Lurking safely inside the shark nets--Tania.

Love, Joe.

Foursome

2007-03-06T21:46:00.000-08:00

In the interests of fairness, when I practice Expressions of Ecstasy in sex--shouldn't there be at least two girls, to even things out?

I just think it would be fair, that's all.

Love, Joe.

In The Beginning

2007-03-02T20:52:00.000-08:00

Happy Birthday, Mom!

Fetching Fridays

2007-02-23T18:48:00.000-08:00

I have been absorbed recently in a scribbling a short story which someone was giving me the inspiration for. You know these inspiration things, they come in bursts and you must take advantage of them.
Will post it once it's done, and you will love it!
Just like you will love this beautiful girl!

(Michelle asked me to change the photo)
Mushie. This picture might not be on here for long, but it will have been worth. I think it's okay?

Love, Joe.

No Car

2007-02-18T16:57:00.000-08:00

We saw a car accident yesterday. Driving down the road, minding our own business, and suddenly a movement in the corner of our eyes, across the divider.
Now, this was a small car--but they look massive when they are in the process of flipping upside down.
Which it was. Length-wise. I missed how or why, but I did see the spectacular landing, and, yes, was again shaken, and yes, prayed for the plaintiff.
It's things like this that make you not want to even get a license (this and the draft). I mean, you get to thinking, 'Aack I'm sick of all this walking,' and you start contemplating a license--but then you see something like this, and it's like FORGET IT!
Driving is crazy! Don't tell me about parkour if you drive a car! I mean, have you ever heard of 'walking accidents'? NO! It doesn't happen!
It's like, 'I was walking down the road one day when all of a sudden I lost control of my legs and flipped over.'
Yeah, right.
Or, 'I was walking along and suddenly my shoes gave out and I smashed into a tree.'
Not happening. You walk, you get where you're going. That's what happens. You don't have any close calls with other drunk walkers or crazy women walkers. You don't get standing tickets ("Sorry sir, you are illegally stood."). You don't fall asleep at the legs. No traffic. No "head"-on collisions. No "rear"-end collisions.
So walk, for God's sake! (Or take a bus--at least you're bigger than everything else on the road.)

Love, Joe.

PS
And while we're on the subject, don't you think they should make guys and girls drive on separate sides of the road? Just for safety?
Hahah, just kidding.