God came down to hang out with me the other night. Took the form of a girl too. Not exceptionally pretty, but lovely in her own rights. I was bummed cause I didn't get to audition for a part that really would have made my career. When God showed up I didn't know what to think. But she told me that she was going to hang with me and my friends all night and then decide if she should re-work the time line and give me the part. I was excited; who wouldn't be? Me and Justin knew it was God, (which makes sense, since Justin and I were quite the theologists when we were younger) but T.J. didn't know and we weren't about to tell.

We went out, had some laughs, God was a lot of fun. The night was nearing an end when T.J. argued with God that he had more money than her. On and on he went boasting about how rich he was, God goading him on all the while. Justin and I were curious to see where this was going and held our breaths in anticipation. Finally, T.J. had reached his limit and decided to use an ATM to prove to God how rich he was.

Over to the ATM our group went, T.J. with his bank card in hand. We huddled around the tiny monitor to see the results. In went T.J.'s card, up came his balance, and down came his ego, for his worth was less than two-hundred bucks. T.J. was sore and couldn't figure out where he had spent his money; he was really quite ashamed. It wasn't clear if T.J. had just been boasting or if God had pulled some nasty trick. But God followed through and started the process of checking her balance. Justin and I were eager to see where this was going and the excitement was almost unbearable.

But something else happened. God entered her PIN code (555 I believe was what it was, although I think my brain was mistaken and it was supposed to be 777 since that makes more sense) but instead of checking her balance she began to use the keypad to type a message.

At first the message looked like garbled gibberish, but suddenly I could read words, amidst the nonsense, that I knew only I could see. The message revealed God's decision: she was not going to give me the part. I was hurt, shocked, let down, and angry. Justin and T.J. appeared not to notice or care.

I was ready to leave, but was so angry, I couldn't help but give God a piece of my mind. I got right in her face and started to say something like "listen here woman..." when I noticed the fire in her eyes and remembered who I was talking too. Bashfully, I continued to tell her what bull-shit this all is and that no matter how hard I try, how much I give, or how much I suffer, I can never achieve the things I want in life because someone else is pulling the strings. I remember feeling so angry that she just stood there and smiled. What was she thinking? What was the point of the whole ordeal if she just wound up showing me that there is no free will, only fate? And if your fate wasn't what you wanted, well too bad.

She tried to explain that the part wouldn't have made me happy, that I wouldn't make much money, and it wouldn't really take me where I wanted to go. I told her I wished she'd let me decide that and walked away, leaving God in the club, or casino, or wherever we were.

Out in the parking lot we were all feeling sore. T.J. was still in a daze about his money and wandered off to his car, grumbling to himself all the while. Justin and I went to load something into his car, and I thought it was strange that he made no comment on the events of the night. Instead he was more concerned with whether or not he was getting fat.

And that was it. The rest was just a dream waiting to end.

Labels: ravings

So apparently I have a broken soul, according to Jared. The test is simple: if you like cold pizza anywhere as near as much as you like it warm... your soul is broken. Don't ask why, just accept it. I have.

Labels: rants, ravings

I'm over the halfway point in Chuck's new book Snuff, cruising along at about 30,000 feet on a Boeing that's bound for fabulous Las Vegas on my way back home, when I happen to glance out my window and catch a glimpse of a beauty that struck me to the core.

Out my window it was nearing sunset. The sky was that pallet-blend of orange and purple with tints of blue and yellow at every corner. Below me was an alien landscape, a plain of white fields that was too serene to be inhabited by men. The ground was made of this coiled mass of gray and white that resembled brain matter or perhaps the intestine. At some points it simply looked like cotton a second-grader would pull and spread over the bottom of a shoe-box-diorama. In between the cracks and folds there was nothing but the darkest colors the eye can see. Every once in a while a burst of goldish-orange would erupt from the depths, a twinkle of light glowing far below. Probably some cruise ship.

It was in this moment, as I was taking all this in with a heavy sigh, that I marveled at what a stunning opportunity it was for me to be granted this vision.

The first commercial flights took place around the end of the 1920's. At first it was a thrill only the rich could afford, but advancing technology made it a common way to travel for patrons throughout the 30's. Eighty years. We've been privileged enough to grace the skies for a measly eighty years of human history. And that's what struck me so deep. A hundred years ago no one would have even dared to conceive what the world looks like traveling above the clouds in the stratosphere. Although thousands of people cruise around up there everyday now, at one point in history the thought of a human flying was considered blasphemous.

The reason it hit such a chord with me was simple. I take so much of our civilization for granted. It's easy to point out our flaws, to belittle our accomplishments for all the harm we've caused. Any one can look back on what we've achieved and ask ourselves "but what did it cost?" and the answer is never pretty. But flying over mass distances in a manner of hours while watching the sun set into the distant sea from the safety of my little flying machine is just too cool a thing to take lightly.

Labels: flying, rants, ravings

Here are some scratches on a piece of paper I found that I wrote in the dark days:

"Sleepless nights and unaccomplished days. Is inertia enough? How long can we keep this up? Something slumbers in the desert, it shifts dunes of sand in it's sleep. I dream and I create but the lives I weave are transparent, they've yet to flesh themselves into existence. Each place I call home is more taxed then the last. At this rate I'll be paying for every breath in a matter of months. It's dark in my corner. Too dark to remember what I've learned. I unlearn each day. Empty then fill. There's a cloud over this place, invisible to the naked eye. The cloud houses something awful, something with long tentacle-like arms with oppressive strength. The tentacles shoot out from the sky and press on your chest, just atop the sternum. The pressing hold that pins you in your place. And keeps you there. Don't struggle, accept mediocrity and the inevitable routine of a short, droll existence. What a strange time to be a part of. No one seems to care enough to better the times, the lives, the world."

I don't remember what was going on when I wrote this but I can still feel the remnants of that force. It is very clear here that I am talking about the world of my immediate surroundings. These feelings are what spurred my decision to leave California and I know now that I made the right choice. "I once was lost but now I'm found."

Labels: feelings, rantings, ravings

It is now 1:00 AM, one day deep into the new regime. The 44th President of the United States was sworn into office early yesterday and I don’t feel any different. He was elected on the hope ticket, which is all anyone cares about now. If there is no hope, there is no country. We simply cannot survive without some glimmer of hope. And what better embodiment for that hope than a black President? Hope for change like the kind we’ve seen in the Civil Rights movement over the past forty years. He’s black! He’s white! He could be a goddamn Rottweiler for all I care, just so long as he breathes the much-needed life back into this country. America the Mighty has run on nothing but fumes for nigh ten years now, and that’s not even dipping into the fuel problems. The spirit of the people is divided and practically crushed to dust. Those old enough to remember “the good days” are too senile now to do anything to help. Most of us, the ones who matter anyway, see nothing but a dim fog up ahead. And those who look past the fog are no more at ease.

It’s not that I don’t feel we can persevere, we’ve got a good history for that. It’s more of a feeling that the countdown has begun and no one can see the clock. Like Rome before us we are at the verge of ripping ourselves apart, all our enemies will have to do is pick up what’s left, like grave-robbers pillaging the corpse of our once-great nation.

But that’s not what yesterday was about. Yesterday thousands upon thousands of American citizens, from all walks of life, gathered in the nation’s capitol to be a part of history. It wasn’t the color of his skin that drew people in, it was the magnitude of the idea his skin represents. In only a handful of generations, the black community has gone from winning their freedom, to seeing one of their own take the seat as one of the most powerful men in the world. Yesterday a one-hundred year old African American was there when President Obama was sworn in. In his lifetime, he has seen the change that comes with perseverance, and he turns his thanks to God for letting him live to see this moment. That is a power you cannot buy. That is a hope you can’t help but be a part of. The old way of thinking is becoming the new. The unmistakable idea of possibilities this country is supposed to represent seems to be on the mend. This is why black, white, yellow, and red alike gathered yesterday. This is the hope that we are so desperate for.

President Obama certainly has his work cut out for him. I feel correct in saying the very fate of our country is now resting in his hands. His actions will either inspire us to become the great nation we once were, or doom us to the realization that there is no hope, that we’ve already lost. I, like many of my generation, lacked the proper motivation to get off my ass and vote this year, a mistake I will not make again. If I did vote, would I have voted for Obama? In all honesty, I cannot say, but I’m part of “the people” and the people spoke for me…and I’m glad. I’m happy that everyone got what they wanted and I’m moved by the same power that has touched us all.
I leave the official running of business in our country in the hands of the 44th President, Barak Obama. And I myself will make an impact, in my lifetime, and do my very best to secure the blessings of liberty to myself and my posterity. Do ordain and establish this proclamation for The United States of America.


Quinn Allan
Wednesday January 21st, 2009

Labels: america, economy, politics, ravings, writings