Thursday, March 28, 2013

This Post Has a Title. This is it.

There seems this endless desire to know me. To talk of repercussions and consequences like past mistakes set fire to future destinations. Like old haunts black tomorrow and days past can't be escaped. From what I've learned, the past is nothing more than fragments to collect and stare back on whenever some new being gets close enough to force you to dig them up. Selfish taker, what gives you the right to search through me like an old, found, journal; learn my lines to tuck me safely away, beneath your bed - forgotten, but a comfort knowing I'm nearby? Selfish taker, I'll Bogart shove you on a plane and urge you to forget me, while you swear you care and fly away - I'll be your fragment soon; whenever some foul, wretch encroaches on your troubled past. You'll find me. Haunts roam like that. So crush them smaller, Darling, stomp through the shards and shattered glass until they're more like salt and pure like sand. Light the drifters and burn the pages and maybe soon, we'll all be free. Perhaps we already are. Hold fast, for here exists by time old somewheres; but sometimes somewhere is someplace someone shouldn't speak of. It makes us human - it makes us, us - isn't that good enough without revelation? Leave me silent and love the truths you earn. Who cares what the legos are made of, just build something timeless and enjoy the standing castle...

Portuguese Starfish and a Pale, British Jesus

Everything was beautiful and senseless and dark - until you came around, spreading your hope and light like some kind of all-entrenching plague. I don't want your clarity - who feels with clarity and sense? Clock ticking  echos and you were gone - like air beneath waves - dispersed. All things end and all things vanish; I just didn't see it folding out this way. I doubt the Heat did either - 27 games is a strong run to shatter. No matter, they'll win the title and move on to better things.
Speaking of better things, I compiled a list of "Better Things to do Than Post Your Uninformed Political Opinion on Facebook".

The list is as follows:

 "Better Things to do Than Post Your Uninformed Political Opinion on Facebook"

1)  Anything

There is this show on TV called "The Bible".  I attempted watching it and, despite the gaping holes in story-line, pale skin and over-dramatic acting, what amazed me most was the incredibly spot on, british accents EVERYONE had. I understand that the most predominant translation of the Bible is the King James - but just because it was translated into olde English, doesn't mean that they really spoke that way. It astounds me that they seemed to overlook the fact that they were all Jewish...exceptionally Jewish, for that matter.


I am a 24 year old, caucasian, American, male.  I dress like a punk rock cowboy and my life is a story. I've traveled, played tours, wrestled bears, jumped trains, slept places, seen things and ate stuff most people wouldn't. Now, imagine a Portuguese starfish finds my story in some unwritten journal somewhere...or even this blog, for that matter. He is intrigued, "what a fascinating and assumably charming individual this Jordan was". He thinks to himself. "I've never heard of a stronger, wiser, more sensually desirable man than he. Women swoon in his presence and Clark Gable wished to be him - I must tell the world of this glorious legend!" Excited, he leaps from his coral bed and awakens his servants. Being the Monarch he is, he hires a half dozen hundred starfish, slave, monks - commonly referred to as Starmonks - to translate the tale into 12th Century, Old Gutnish - the most commonly shared dialect within the Portuguese starfish community.
Alright, let's skip ahead awhile - maybe, 26-800 years from now, give or take a few weeks - my story is internationally renowned, it's been translated into nearly every language in the world, every hotel room has a copy and my name is banned in schools...but encouraged in prisons...but walked around in politics...but sworn by in court...but debated by scholars...but used as an excuse for insurance companies to avoid responsibility...There are myriad tellings of my life - but, the MSV (Monarch Starfish Version) is the most famous, as it was the first and most accurate translation. Someone decides to make a film of my life, based of the MSV. It will be perfect, the whole journey, beginning to end, a telling of my entire story. Millions of dollars are poured into this project; the costumes must be perfect, the story must be accurate, the scenes, setting and names must be in order. Research is researched, reading is read and studies are studied - this is going to be 100% accurate and every detail will be just as it really happened. The flick is released, the lights go down, the scenes play out and the story is debatably close - I am portrayed as a young American, I dress like a punk rock cowboy, I sing, dance, play and travel, I am exceptionally suave and women adore me - but - despite all attempts at perfection, I am played by a Portuguese Starfish and speak a Nordic language that I've never heard and has been dead for centuries. Accuracy - shattered.

Say what you want, I understand doing "The Bible" in English - it's relatable and far more watchable.
I'm fine with that - but still, why have British accents and cast the wrong race entirely?
I don't care what tradition tells you, I'll never be a Portuguese Starfish with a Viking accent...