“For all the talk about Bill being like Hendrix or Dylan or Jim Morrison or Lenny Bruce, it was Jesus Bill wanted to be. He wanted to save us all. But Bill got freeze-framed in the scene where Jesus went through the temple and said ‘This is my father’s house and you’ve turned it into a den of thieves!!!’ That’s what Bill always wanted to do. He wanted to be Christ at his angriest.”
- Brett Butler about Bill Hicks.
It just kills me that when I die, no matter how much any of you love me, no one will have anything to say about me that even approaches how fucking beautiful that statement is…
My feet were firmly planted in the dust. I was preoccupied with preserving what I had and oblivious to how much I had to lose by allowing a bad situation to continue.
When the collar and leash get too tight, sometimes we forget that we can take it off. Sometimes we endure too much in the name of “keeping”.
And so I was reminded that I had forsaken one of my core principles.
You people rarely get to hear me gush about how incredible my wife is but she is honestly the center of my being. (That may be a bad thing from time to time…) Yesterday, when I went into a bit of a panic over a situation, she had the clarity to grab me by the shoulders and shake me until I woke up. She reminded me of who I was. Stand up, do the right thing no matter what happens. Even though my actions could make the situation worse, I would be a fool to stand there and allow it to continue.
I never give her enough credit for how much support she gives me. She makes me who I am and sometimes I forget just how god damn awesome I can be.
There is no quicker way to announce to me that you are a charlatan and full of shit than to say, “Well what Jesus really meant was…”
I hear the preachers changing the language with their reinterpretations of some ancient Greek word, I hear them pick and choose which parts of their texts is literal and which are analogies. I hear them revising their “incorruptible” book, and I let it go.
But as soon as I hear some well-dressed preacher standing behind his pulpit of gold in an air-conditioned arena telling his flock of sheeple what he thinks Jesus REALLY meant… That’s just too much for me.
That goes above and beyond the usual manipulation. They have a large book full of imaginary shit but that’s not enough for them, now they’re just making new things up as they go along.
I have rules in my head, don’t we all? But it occurred to me this morning that my rules fluctuate too much…
When I’m watching television and the TV has numbers on the volume bar, I have to leave it on an even number.
When I’m listening to the radio and the radio has numbers on the volume bar, I have to leave it on an odd number.
If the TV or radio doesn’t have numbers, I can leave the volume anywhere I like.
When I’m using a sound system that shows the volume in dB, I have to leave it on 0, -13 or any multiple of 3.
I can’t listen to the Brahms Violin Concerto anymore because back when I first noticed that I preferred odd numbers on the radio dial, I looked up and noticed the volume was on an even number and I decided it didn’t matter, I’d just have to get over it. I sat through the entire thing (+/-40min) forcing myself to sit still and not get up to change the volume. Now every time I hear it all I can think about is changing the volume to an odd number. I thought I was over it until I went to see Rachel Pine play that piece live in Chicago last year. I sat there all dressed up among a nice crowd, fidgeting and imagining a large green volume bar with a flashing “36″ in my face the whole time…