Sayin' Goodbye to MySpace! Topic: MySpace
For some time now my relationship with MySpace has been timultuous. More than once I have been left wanting to pull out my hair over their infuriating ways. I think it's finally time to break up.
It's been three years of hell.
First they rid my profile of my Project Playlist widget (a wrong that I have never really forgotten or forgiven).
Next, they lured me into trying out 'Profile 2.0' with the promise that I could return to my original 1.0 profile if I didn't like the new format which turned out to be a lie that forced me to learn CSS coding and resulted in my having to completely redo all of my graphics and background for my profile page.
Now, after what took me weeks of work to accomplish, in a matter of monthes MySpace has managed to destroy my Profile page once again. The toolbar is no longer transparent, and the background is completely missing from the page. I don't know if they changed their coding, if the background image was against TOS policy or what has their figurative panties in a bunch and to brutally honest I no longer care. I have had quite enough. F*k MySpace!
This blog is to notify anyone who has me friended on MySpace that within a few days, I will no longer have an account with the MySpace networking service.
From now on I will be either on Facebook or Twitter (both of which are updated through Ping.FM).
I have an Angelfire website as well that is my personal profile (the way I want it to look!!), this site has all of my persona links, my DeviantART link, my Project Playlist widget, my YouTube Channel link, as well as any fun stuff I might want to put there - so be sure to check it out once in awhile (also includes the Twitter widget and is updated through Ping.FM as well). The address for my profile page is https://spiritiger.angelfire.com/ or simply CLICK HERE!
My MySpace blog has been completely transferred to this blog (in case anyone cares lol) and any future entries will be here.
The Ravens & The Butterfly Topic: Life
I've fallen back on bad habits.
My chronic insomnia has kicked into high gear and I have been awake most of the night/morning. I'm incredibly tired, but unable to relax enough to drift off to sleep.
Every time I close my eyes, my head seems to become flooded with a myriad of thoughts. My mind races, and I am unable to stop the chaos and noise that rattles in my brain.
Perhaps if I pour it all out in my blog I will be able to finally succumb to my own exhaustion.
My relationship with Ken is still somewhat strained, but we've seemed to have finally leveled out onto equal ground. We're nowhere close to "normal" yet, but the tension between us seems to have eased up. Hopefully time will bridge the chasm that seems to have opened up between us recently. For both our sakes.
In my previous blog entry I allowed my emotions to get the better of me and kind of got over-swept with all the sadness, fear and despair that death unfortunately evokes.
However, as is typical in pain everyone experiences in the grieving process, I had edited out one crucial moment in that awful Thursday morning as I became lost in my own melancholy. A moment that, at least for a brief tick of time, gave me a sense of comfort and eased my soul.
After I had cleaned the mattress and linen from the bedroom, I stepped outside to smoke a cigarette.
A hearse was waiting in the driveway to take Ken's father to the funeral home as I stepped out onto the front porch. I remember feeling a cold sense of disbelief as I stared at it while leaning against my old Dodge Daytona.
It seemed oddly quiet in a disconcerting kind of way.
Then I heard a familiar sound. One Ken and I had gotten very used to when we were living in the house on Dennison Street. It was the caw of a Raven.
I looked up to see it as it landed on the street lamp near the driveway and within moments it was joined by a mate.
The silence of the morning was broken by their loud conversation with one another as they sat staring down at the world below them.
They were beautiful and I was comforted by their company.
You see, most people in our society today would view their appearance as something ominous or unnerving... but not me or Ken. For us, Ravens are an integral and inspiring totem of our spiritualities.
In Celtic mythology, the Raven (associated with the God Bran) symbolizes protection, initiation and healing. They are seen as messengers of the spirit world. Harbingers and heralds between the living and the dead.
In Norse mythology, Odin (Ken's patron) is closely accompanied by two Ravens known as Huginn (Thought) and Muninn (Memory). Those of you who know Ken have no doubt seen their effigy on his right arm.
It is because of Odin's association with them that he is often referred to as the "Raven God".
Huginn and Muninn's duty to Odin was to fly over the world of Midgard as scouts and return with information. They also accompanied Odin's fallen warriors on their journey to Valhalla.
I couldn't help but think that those two Ravens were there as favor for Ken to watch over his father as he journeyed to his final place. I was consoled by that thought and even managed a brief smile as I stood there watching them.
Then from the corner of my eye, a small fluttering caught my attention and I noticed a butterfly dancing around the front door of the house. Itself a universal symbol of transformation, but particularly for the Celts who viewed it as a symbol of rebirth. An important concept within Celtic mythology.that taught that spiritual and physical life was constantly renewed and recycled to the next generation.
In that moment, at least for me, the symbols of the Ravens and the Butterfly seemed to converge on one another. Journey and rebirth. A gentle reminder of my beliefs and my spirituality. A gesture from my deities and Ken's deities that they had felt our tears and wanted to us to remember who we were and what was in our souls.
As the loss and heartache that the death of Ken's father has engraved into me heals and the memory of that horrible day fades over time, I hope that I never forget those Ravens or that Butterfly.
They are all that I want to hang onto right now, and the only vision that will give me comfort enough to rest and perhaps even sleep.
The Silence is Deafening. Topic: Life
It's always been a mystery to me how I could be surrounded by people and feel completely alone... and lately, I have felt more alone that I ever have.
It isn't as though I don't have people close to me that I could pour my heart out to, yet it is my pen or keyboard that seems to be the ear I feel most comfortable to bend right now.
Our closest friends know that Ken's father died last Thursday, but don't know the depths of it. The unsurpassed ugliness of it.
Ken's father was not sick. He had not suffered a long battle with an illness. He spent that Wednesday with his eldest son, his namesake, working on a mobility scooter for a friend of ours whom he had never met. That night, he and his wife Bev went to bed like they always did.
We received a phone call around 4 am from Ken's mother that his father had stopped breathing. Within minutes of being on the road to his parent's home, we were notified that the paramedics had stopped working on him and that he was not going to be transported to the hospital. That it was over.
I'm 41 years old. I've received many phone calls over the years telling me that someone has passed away (By the way, I despise the phrase "passed away" as it sounds disingenuous and trite). There was always a somber voice on the other end of the line telling me when the viewing and funeral was. Typical really. But this time it would be anything but typical.
When we arrived at his parent's house, we were greeted with the sight of police cars and an emergency vehicle with lights flashing.
We did not walk, We ran as fast as we could through the front door of the house.
His mother looked so small and pale as she sat in her husband's chair in the living room in her robe and slippers. I'm not even sure that she saw us at first. Like us, she was completely in shock... but for her, I suspect it was much more vivid.
Ken and I were told in a very professional sounding tone by one of the officers that we were not allowed to go back to the master bedroom. It was at that moment I realized that Ken's father was still in the house.
Ken and I held his mother as tight as we could.
Blue uniforms marched in and out of the front door, giving hardly a glance to any of us. I could see the coffee table that usually sat at the end of his parent's bed jutting out like a splinter in a sore out of the bedroom door. Out of place and disturbing. I battled back the questions, but they were flooding my head.
After about 30 minutes after we arrived an investigator came over to talk with us. It's kind of a blur. I remember the words "standard procedure" and something about it being typical that police investigate when someone dies suddenly in their home. I do remember feeling a tinge of outrage that Bev was being made to go all through all this at the cusp of the unexpected death of her husband. Procedure be fucking damned.
I don't know how much time passed after that, but eventually that same investigator told us that a coroner had been called and would be arriving at the scene momentarily. He gave his opinion at that point that Ken's father had most likely died of some type of coronary arrest due to purpling that was on his chest and the small amount of vomit around his mouth. He went on further to say that he believed it to be sudden as his hands weren't clenched, but relaxed at his sides.
He told us that his people were finished and that if we wanted to we could go back and see him. Bev didn't want to. I asked Ken if he wanted to and he quietly made his way down the hallway and looked through the doorway at his father. It's not that I didn't want to see him, but in my mind he wasn't there anymore. Whatever remained in that room was only a shell.
I caught a glimpse of his bare legs and small feet from the bathroom doorway. His legs were already beginning to turn blue. I remember being amazed at how such a big man could have such small feet. But, he had contracted Polio as an infant. He had never walked without crutches and at the end he had been completely confined to his mobility scooter.
I felt ashamed at myself for seeing even that much of him. With just that brief glimpse, I knew that he was not dressed. That he was in nothing but his underwear. I felt like I was disrespecting him somehow by seeing him in that state.
I shifted my sight up from the floor and saw the bed. Disheveled, a pool of urine on his father's side of the bed.
I wanted to feel sick, I wanted to feel horrified... all I felt was numb.
The coroner finally came and after evaluating the condition of his father's body determined that he had suffered an pulmonary embolism. As a result of his inactivity, blood had pooled in his legs and feet causing a blood clot that most likely traveled to his lungs and into his heart. It had been instant.
We then had to wait for the funeral home to come and remove the body of Ken's father so that they could begin preparing it for preservation (embalming).
Ken's father was over 300lbs. Two men, one of them quite small were all that the funeral home sent over. So Ken, with the help of his cousins Mike and Mark, had to help them lift his father's uncovered body from the bedroom floor to the gurney. I was silently enraged that Ken had to be involved in such a gruesome and painful task.
They had to use Ken's knife to cut the sheet they were using to lift him because it got snagged on the bottom of the doorway and the one the funeral home people then used it to cut the breathing tubes free of his father's mouth.
The moment his father's body was removed from the room and covered up with a blue velvet shroud. I seemed to go into auto-pilot. I was overwhelmed with the drive to clean up the bed before more family arrived at the house. Bev was too fragile, and Ken needed to be near her as something solid to lean on. I made up my mind that I had to do it.
I set to stripping the bed and removing the soiled sheets, and used scrubbing bubbles to scrub every inch of the top of the bed. I didn't think about what I was doing, or mull it over, I just did what needed to be done.
Ken removed the balloon and tube that the paramedics used to try to resuscitate his father from the bedroom dresser. I don't know why it was left behind.
It was one of the longest days and quietest days I can ever remember. Even the periodic sobbing from loved ones seemed oddly muted.
Even though my heart ached for Ken and his family every time a tear was shed, I felt empty somehow. Like whatever it was I was personally feeling about a man I loved and respected was lost somewhere else. Even now as I write these words, I still feel that way.
I'm not a family member. I'm not a family friend. I don't know what I am.
The only feeling that seems to be overwhelming me at the moment is a sense of being utterly alone.
Ken is a part of a very big and very close, tight-knit family. If I weren't here he would have his siblings, cousins, and his mom there beside him in this very painful time. He isn't lacking for loved ones who would willingly and gladly offer their shoulder to him.
All of them are there if ever he needed to talk about his feelings and to share his grief with them,
On any other occasion I would talk to Ken about my feelings, my sorrow. A man who was my best friend long before we were ever romantically involved. But this time, I can't. He's too close to the situation. It is his father, the man he loved dearly and admired who is gone.
Since that horrible Thursday, I have felt like a reluctantly tolerated outsider from little things that have happened, certainly not spitefully or even consciously I don't think. To be fair I have been a raw open wound since his father died and I can't really trust my reactions to anything right now. Everything hurts, no matter how insignificant.
I don't feel I have a right to mourn or to cry. Every time I break a little and the tears start I feel like I am being selfish and inconsiderate and I get angry with myself, I feel like I should just suck it up and that me feeling whatever I am feeling is insignificant to what Ken and his family are feeling right now.
I tried once to talk to Ken about how I'm feeling, but it turned into an argument as he is understandably very protective of his family right now and he saw my hurt as an attack on them. I didn't mean for it to be, but we just aren't in the same place right now. Our view of the world right now is from completely different sides of the equator I think.
Realistically I feel like I am on a whole other planet all unto myself.
A very deep part of myself is afraid the pain and the confusion affecting both of us will rip us apart rather than pull us together. We just can't seem to be able to connect right now and are miles apart though we are in the same room together. It's horrible and I have been physically sick to my stomach for days.
If it breaks us, I suppose its not meant to be. But I cannot bear to even think about that right now. I'm barely hanging on as it is.
I feel like just one more grain of sand on the scale and I will completely tip over and everything will break apart.
Damn it! Why is it so easy for me to silently type all this ugliness out and hide within myself if anyone close to me encourages me to talk to them about this? I am such a fucking coward.
I tell myself its to spare them the discomfort of being drawn into my problems, but deep down I know that is bullshit. I know that after all these years of building walls around myself they've grown too thick and solid for me to build a door at this stage in my life.
I never meant to isolate myself, but that is exactly what I've done.
Thank Goddess hardly anyone reads my blog. I know how pathetic I am being right now and there just seems to be no end to it and grows more vivid with each passing moment.
Day Five of Quitting Smoking. Topic: Life
Well it's day five of my campaign to quit smoking, and amazingly nobody is dead yet... although there have been a few close calls, believe me.
Take day two, for example. There were three cherub like children at the Verizon store, playfully frolicking about happily as the chased each other around their pregnant mother... and I wanted SO badly to squash them into a bloody paste into the store carpeting just to restore the peace and quiet that was my world before they had entered the store.
Cutting down from a nearly three pack a day habit to three cigarettes... yes, you heard me correctly, three cigarettes. It will be a miracle if I don't commit a homicide before the month of June is over.
I am determined to be successful this time, despite my enjoyment of smoking. Between paying $50+ a carton, the smell it leaves behind on my clothing and furnishings, the black thumb I often carry because of my zippo lighter, and lets not forget the burn trail of an escape cherry from the tip of my cigarette... I'm 41, its time to shake the monkey.
It's hard to look ahead at this point. As I sit here and type this all I can think about is how bad I want to smoke a cigarette. It's frustrating to the point of hair pulling, but I try to think ahead, assuring myself that it will get easier as time passes and the desire to smoke will eventually lessen. However, that is little consolation at the moment... although a goal I WILL reach, come hell or high water.
As sanity comes and goes, I will try to keep this blog up to date with my progress (lol if it can truly be called that).
Pagan Challenge (20 Questions) Topic: Life
Recently, on YouTube, a user by the name of TheStallion76 (an atheist) posted a video challenging Pagans to answer 20 questions which he had listed in the description box of the same video.
Unfortunately, his channel has been suspended by YouTube and his video subsquently removed, so I can no longer attach my response video to his.
If you don't "tube", you are probably unaware of the votebotting and false flagging campaigns that are plaguing the YouTube service.
Four users have had their channels/accounts unfairly suspended in the past week alone; Tsumetashi22, Coughlan666, TheStallion76 and dprjones. All atheists.
Presumably these votebot and false flagging attacks are coming from a very select group of fundamentalist Christian creationists.
It's monumentally frustrating and saddening to me that these types of "I'm right!" minded individuals are so successful in censoring the opinions of those that disagree with their particular point of view. So much so that I have created two subsequent channels on competing video websites; Ning and FilmRookie, and I will include the links to my channels on these sites at the bottom of this blog if anyone is interested.
I haven't decided yet if I intend to deactivate my YouTube channels, but I will be sure to blog about my conclusion if indeed I come to one.
Anyway, on with the questions...
Pagan Challenge (20 Questions) - TheStallion76
1. Why don't you push your religion like Christians and Muslims do? Such as: knock on doors, preach in a church, indoctrinate your children? 2. Why do you think Christians burned Pagan literature and murdered pagans throughout history? 3. Why do you think the men of the bible are considered heroes for murdering Pagans? 4. Is sex immoral, as well as homosexuality? Please explain why. 5. Why do you think Christians have a problem with alternative (oral/anal) sex? 6. Describe in detail what happens to us when we die. 7. Is it against the Pagan belief system to marry an atheist? 8. Can you think of one original unique thing Jesus said that wasn't already taught in the Pagan religion? 9. Why do you think Christians stole your holidays? example, Easter, Christmas, Halloween, etc. 10. If you were hanging over a cliff, in your left hand, a Christan was dangling, in the right, an atheist, which would you let go in order to survive? If you don't choose to let go of one, you all fall. Explain why. 11. What are your views on abortion and capital punishment? and why? 12. Why does Christianity seem so similar to older pagan religions? 13. What is the difference between a pagan and a fluffy bunny? 14. How does one go about becoming a pagan? 15. Did you originally grow up in a christian home? 16. Describe the attributes of your god, or gods, if you have many. 17. If you had to choose a religion outside of paganism, which would it be, and why? 18. Would nature feel any remorse for your suffering and death? 19. What would it take to go against your own moral code? 20. Would you give up your entire belief system if in return, there was world peace?
So, Pagans, how would you answer?
Here is my video response that I made to TheStallion76's challenge:
Save Baby Aaliyah - Scam or Reality? Topic: News, politics and Activism
Baby Aaliyah - Fact or Fiction?
Baby Aaliyah - Update
..
Although I do believe that the mother (Connie Bedwell) and her family are genuinely convinced that Aaliyah is being abused, I do not feel comfortable of placing any judgment of the guilt or innocence on the father at this time. There is simply not enough information/evidence available to the casual observer through online resources (from my point of view) to form an educated opinion about this case, as of yet.
I will provide the links of the resources that I have both read and listened to, so that the reader can decide for his/herself.
Articles by Simon and Jan Barrett of BNN (First to current):
A nonspatial continuum in which events occur in apparently irreversible succession from the past through the present to the future.
A system of measurement. A period. An interval.
Throughout the ages, we have measured time through an assortment of different means. Sun dials, henges, hourglasses and so forth to our modern clocks.
We monitor it by watching the clock in classrooms and in the work place. We measure it when cooking or when watching an athletic event. We make record of it when we have completed a task in our busy day-to-day schedules, or when there is an important appointment we must keep.
Poets and artists have captured time in their works of prose and on canvas.
"Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, Creeps in this petty pace from day to day" - William Shakespeare
"Time! the corrector when our judgments err." - Lord Byron
"Time is the wisest counselor of all." - Pericles
We are told many things about time; "Time is precious" "Time is money" or "Time is a mere drop in the bucket."
I suppose it depends on your point of view, really.
In times of sorrow or regret we might view time as being something we should cling to, as in memory or a recounting of that which we did not appreciate in the past.
In times of celebration we might see time as something less meaningful, as in the ends justifying the means, that our trials are inconsequential within the reality of reaching our goals.
We often complain about our time is being wasted over simple things. A movie we disliked but endured, a line we had to stand in, a phone call, an opinion editorial in a newspaper. The list is endless.
We can't measure our time here on earth, however. Each one of us has a different expiration date label, and therefore we can't adequately determine how our time should be divied up between our birth and death.
We live. We die. Everything in between is an uncalculated portion of time. How we spend it, is really up to us. There's really no sense in us analyzing and fretting over our time. Time doesn't stop, even when we our lives do.
Whether death comes at childbirth, young adulthood, or in our elder years... it is always too soon because our hearts will not let us think or conceive of the inevitable conclusion of our time, or the ones that we hold most dear. Time, exists as an entity in these things, and will always be viewed as an unfair judge who has observed and condemned, no matter what the circumstances; disease, accident, homicide, suicide or natural causes.
I believe death impacts us so dramatically because it is an event that stops time for us. It removes an essential ingredient, a person that is an essential part of how we live our lives, from our overall existance. It forces change upon us in how we live our lives.
The first death I experienced was when I was 14 years old. My grandfather, well into his 70s, died from heart disease the day after I visited him in a nursing home. The first tear that I shed over that experience was in accepting the knowledge that I would no longer be able to talk with him or hear his voice. The second was shed over the realization that I would not ever lay eyes upon him again. I knew then, as I know now in the loss I have experienced since then, that when someone we love passes it forever alters our lives.
As a mother, time has passed in what seems like a microsecond from the birth of my son into his now young adulthood. As if within the time it takes one to snap their fingers he went from learning to walk, to wanting to major in Chemical Engineering. He will be 19 years old next month, and yet it doesn't measure in my heart and mind that he has been a part of my life for that many years... and yet, in some ways, it also feels like a lifetime. Time and love are strange partners.
You can estimate seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months and years... but you can't estimate time in thought, dream, or emotion because as part of the human condition these things cannot be measured by it. Time exists only as a reflection of joy and the pain of loss, a duller image or a shadow of what we feel more deeply.
These feelings, hopes, dreams, and fears are substantial and deeply personal, and yet shared by all of humanity. They are as essential to us as our physical nature of muscles, organs and bones. We live, we breathe, we think, we feel. Time is only a measurement, and you cannot measure something so etherial as emotion.
All we have left is to remember those that have touched our lives and to appreciate now what they have meant to us and what their life gave to us.
Time will keep moving.
In memory of ISU student, Gerald Smith Jr., of Terre Haute Indiana, and my Aunt Carol who passed away from cancer this year.
ISU Student Found... Topic: News, politics and Activism
Indiana State University student, Gerald Smith, was found at around 7:00 pm. His body had travelled roughly 57 miles down the Wabash river from Terre Haute Indiana to Vincennes Indiana.
His parents were notified at around 9:00 pm.
Police are still investigating this case, and are still looking for the man and woman who spoke to Smith and their gold Toyota Camry or similar vehicle.
Because I have a son who is soon to be attending his first year of college in the fall, this case caught my attention from the very beginning.
I saw a news interview with Gerald Smith's mother, Robin Hill, on the internet, and my heart just broke for her.
She was scheduled to accept his diploma in his honor tonight at the ISU commencement ceremony at the campus, the day before Mother's Day. However, in wake of this unfortunate tragedy, The university will award Smith his diploma posthumously.
Gerald Smith, 22, was an insurance and risk management major from Avon Indiana.
Gerald Smith has been Found.
WTHI TV News 10 - Gerald Smith Found
The family of Gerald Smith is in our hearts and thoughts this Mother's Day weekend.
ISU student missing - Gerald Smith Jr. Topic: News, politics and Activism
Gerald Smith Jr., a Senior at Indiana State University in Terre Haute Indiana, went missing last Friday (05/01/09).
Gerald is 22 years old, 5 feet 7 inches tall, approximately 160 pounds, light to medium brown hair - cut short, brown eyes and has a light shadowed beard.
He was seen at a local bar called "Ballyhoo", and was escorted out that establishment around midnight by a bouncer.
A witness has come forward to say that they had seen a man fitting Gerald's description talking with a couple (a man and a woman) who were in a gold Toyota Camry or similar vehicle after he left Ballyhoo, and that after a brief conversation they all went their separate ways.
University Police are continuing their search for the couple, the vehicle and searching the Wabash river as photos on the web seem to indicate that he was seen near a bridge at the river's location.
If you have any information or tips that would help in this case, I urge you to contact ISU Public Safety@812-237-5555 or Crimestoppers@812-238-STOP.
Donations to the reward fund by the ISU Foundation can be made by calling: 812-237-3732
YouTube Channel Update. Topic: Web, HTML, Tech Just a short note to let my readers know that I will no longer be updating my [jspiritiger] channel on YouTube.
I have officially moved to a new channel: TigerOfSpirit at https://www.youtube.com/user/TigerOfSpirit (Or just click on the link marked "TigerOfSpirit", above)
