"You *#&%!@ you're the %$^&*# from work today."
"Indeed my dear. I'm your worst nightmare, an abusive customer who doesn't actually want to buy anything."
"Terrifying. What are you doing here? Where's Simon?"
"You know as well as I do you impetuous self-absorbed wench. He went that way."
Canada gave a big huff, lent slightly forward with arms open at an acute angle and flared wrists, pausing for dramatic effect. Then she stormed away, stopped mid step suddenly realizing that she hadn't actually done anything useful yet. Simon was still flying(!?) off into the dark night, Absalom was in need of hair and skin grafts, while Daly seemed to be struggling to find his freshly spilt marbles.
She turned to her agitator again, "Now you list--," he smashed her over the head with his flashy walking stick.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
saddle up sad sap
Loren sat wistfully staring at his monitor.
"Looks like you got a problem on your hands, pardner." Said a bad John Wayne impression in the back of his head.
Loren had never met John Wayne and mercifully had never sat through any of his movies. Still he couldn't help but respond, "I'm just wore out you know, trying to be the absolute man a little bit at a time can be draining. I think all the hoped for improvements are bottle-necking somewhere just slightly outside the reach of my grasp."
"That a fact? Life's hard some times, pardner. No use in complaining 'bout it. I figure no matter what happens you saddle up and just keep riding on anyway."
"Gosh darn it you're right! Thanks, John. I can call you that right?"
"Looks like you got a problem on your hands, pardner." Said a bad John Wayne impression in the back of his head.
Loren had never met John Wayne and mercifully had never sat through any of his movies. Still he couldn't help but respond, "I'm just wore out you know, trying to be the absolute man a little bit at a time can be draining. I think all the hoped for improvements are bottle-necking somewhere just slightly outside the reach of my grasp."
"That a fact? Life's hard some times, pardner. No use in complaining 'bout it. I figure no matter what happens you saddle up and just keep riding on anyway."
"Gosh darn it you're right! Thanks, John. I can call you that right?"
13.
The bald stranger emerged from the scattered rubble of Simon's former home. His shades were dislodged from their standard position and sat asymmetrically on his head. He smiled like he may have just killed your gran ma.
"Hey you!" screamed C "What just hap--. It's you!"
"Hey you!" screamed C "What just hap--. It's you!"
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
12.
ribit, ribit.
Koopa's tongue wisped to the beat of the birth of the exponentially exploding frog population in his seemingly shrinking enclosure. It was as if Moses himself had come down from heaven, confused Daly's room with Egypt and unleashed holy terror on Koopa's habitat.
Koopa became concerned when the plague of frogs began to inhibit the use of his nostrils. This would never do, oxygen was a necessity.
Maybe the world was a horrible place were over eager consumer minded creatures eeked out an existence by claiming and controlling limited resources. Maybe there wasn't enough to go around. Deep thoughts for a reptilian brain.
The rapidly changing frightening new world he faced left him with few options. He could eat his way out of this mess, despite his lack of appetite or he could drown in the sea of frogs. Making decisions had never been his strong suit. He needed more time to think.
ribit, ribit.
Koopa's tongue wisped to the beat of the birth of the exponentially exploding frog population in his seemingly shrinking enclosure. It was as if Moses himself had come down from heaven, confused Daly's room with Egypt and unleashed holy terror on Koopa's habitat.
Koopa became concerned when the plague of frogs began to inhibit the use of his nostrils. This would never do, oxygen was a necessity.
Maybe the world was a horrible place were over eager consumer minded creatures eeked out an existence by claiming and controlling limited resources. Maybe there wasn't enough to go around. Deep thoughts for a reptilian brain.
The rapidly changing frightening new world he faced left him with few options. He could eat his way out of this mess, despite his lack of appetite or he could drown in the sea of frogs. Making decisions had never been his strong suit. He needed more time to think.
ribit, ribit.
"I'm Batman" I think
I watched the Dark Knight and it left me with an overwhelming feeling that can only be summarized as follows: everyone on earth should watch this movie. Not because it's particularly good, no, mainly because it's incomprehensibly, unfathomably, unequivocally, ridiculously good. In saying that it's probably best if I concede that hyperbole can't quite encapsulate the enormity of its goodness. We'll just have to settle for my clumsy description of its ineffable cinematic brilliance.
After seeing it on Saturday night, I walked out of the theatre and into Loren fantasy land. Which of the characters did I identify with the most? In the end I'd say I'm equal parts Joker and Batman in the sense that I'm not at all like either of them, I am neither incomprehensibly rich nor certifiably insane. Trying my best on both accounts though. Lets say that I'm a special kind of Two-Face (who's real world counterpart, Aaron Eckhart, is also a Mormon, good for him), half-batman and half-joker and all things in between. Every time I saw the Batman laying the smack down I got the uncontrollable urge to get buff (yes, I'm considering professional help for this). When I saw the Joker make that pencil disappear I wanted to be a magician. Both we're incredibly intelligent which no doubt has its benifits. In the end though as much as I'd like to be an agent of chaos, Batman wins out mainly because of his story. He took a tragedy, turned it around, set a goal, honed his mind and body to achieve the result he wanted through determined discipline (and he's also a total nut-case but we wont let that weigh to heavily on our opinion). Who would of thought that a comic book character could be so exemplary? Back to reality...
deadlift 140*8, 160*4, 140*8
power C&J 80/3*3
bench 60/2*10
After seeing it on Saturday night, I walked out of the theatre and into Loren fantasy land. Which of the characters did I identify with the most? In the end I'd say I'm equal parts Joker and Batman in the sense that I'm not at all like either of them, I am neither incomprehensibly rich nor certifiably insane. Trying my best on both accounts though. Lets say that I'm a special kind of Two-Face (who's real world counterpart, Aaron Eckhart, is also a Mormon, good for him), half-batman and half-joker and all things in between. Every time I saw the Batman laying the smack down I got the uncontrollable urge to get buff (yes, I'm considering professional help for this). When I saw the Joker make that pencil disappear I wanted to be a magician. Both we're incredibly intelligent which no doubt has its benifits. In the end though as much as I'd like to be an agent of chaos, Batman wins out mainly because of his story. He took a tragedy, turned it around, set a goal, honed his mind and body to achieve the result he wanted through determined discipline (and he's also a total nut-case but we wont let that weigh to heavily on our opinion). Who would of thought that a comic book character could be so exemplary? Back to reality...
deadlift 140*8, 160*4, 140*8
power C&J 80/3*3
bench 60/2*10
volume: 4800kgs
Kudos to Heath Ledger, by the way, who was amazing as the Joker. I thought all the pre-release hype about his performance was well-meaning well-wishing in honour of the dead. I stand corrected.
Kudos to Heath Ledger, by the way, who was amazing as the Joker. I thought all the pre-release hype about his performance was well-meaning well-wishing in honour of the dead. I stand corrected.
Monday, July 28, 2008
11.
Brandon wasn't the only one who noticed this seemingly singular phenomena; The Moon, who had all but lost interest in the comings and goings of earth's passengers through wanton acts of self-absorption, long ago, paused for a moment. Not in movement, but in thought, he had seen flying stars, but never flying humans, not like this.
"Hello. You down there, with the fiery tale." The moon was a bright chap when he wanted to be and had mastered a number of languages being quite proficient in the use of English. What he failed to realise is that sound doesn't travel so well in a vacuum, still he persisted: "Hello, Mr. flying man!" No answer.
With all his might he willed every one of his neurons to fire, shaking off many millennia of mental inertia, pooling all his resources in an effort to reach out to the flying man. He needed to know how he was flying and wanted to know right now.
"Hello. You down there, with the fiery tale." The moon was a bright chap when he wanted to be and had mastered a number of languages being quite proficient in the use of English. What he failed to realise is that sound doesn't travel so well in a vacuum, still he persisted: "Hello, Mr. flying man!" No answer.
With all his might he willed every one of his neurons to fire, shaking off many millennia of mental inertia, pooling all his resources in an effort to reach out to the flying man. He needed to know how he was flying and wanted to know right now.
a quickie
Big things happen a little bit at a time:
inc bench 50*10, 60*4, 40*8
chin (n-grip) me*10
volume: 2010kgs
inc bench 50*10, 60*4, 40*8
chin (n-grip) me*10
volume: 2010kgs
Sunday, July 27, 2008
The Loren Reclaimation Project
Today I resolved to implement an action plan which could have explosive results. All the particulars in and of themselves are hardly noteworthy, but in concert they're going to make gorgeous music. I want to start getting my act together when it comes to web 2.0, podcasting, blogging, html, css all that fun stuff. Plans are one thing, action's another lets get it started...
Saturday, July 26, 2008
cyclone alert
A lot goes into a good work out. I was well on my way when things started getting complicated. I thought the parking proved a difficult task (nothing available immediately outside the gym) until I got to the walk. Between me and my destination? About 600 meters of pavement and a 300 mile an hour of wind. I knew I forgot something: storm warnings promised to be at the intensity of cyclone Bola. I couragously negotiated with the malfunctioning parking meters in unfriendly conditions for several minutes. As I made my way down the home stretch, my cap was blown mercilessly from my head and my hair got all messed up, what would the gym hotties think? Bravely I soldiered on and like a Muslim on a pilgrimage I found my Mecca. Peace be upon you.
Half hour of shooting around (bball).
power clean and jerk 60/2*5
military 40*10,8
seated row 70/2*10 last rep pause
inc press 60*10
volume: 3320kgs
Half hour of shooting around (bball).
power clean and jerk 60/2*5
military 40*10,8
seated row 70/2*10 last rep pause
inc press 60*10
volume: 3320kgs
Friday, July 25, 2008
10.
Simon's residual rocket trail flitted in and out of existence. This universe is typified by transience, from the smallest particle to the biggest dickhead. It's all the same stuff. Mercury has an abnormal orbit and people now start flying out of nowhere like electron particles, there's got to be a rational explanation, what we need is a paradigm shift.
"Come on Daly lets go, we gotta find Simon."
"Come on Daly lets go, we gotta find Simon."
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Another flashback
I've got to get my act together and do something current. In the meantime...
On this day the day of our Lord (being a Sunday), I was about trying to improve the righteousness of my Sabbath Day observance. In doing so I happily resolved to accept the invitation of the Elders to a teaching appointment that subsequently fell through. Left with an hour – a completely arbitrary amount of time, but agreed upon by all parties, at least implicitly – we resorted to the bane and blessing of all those who call themselves missionaries of the Lord. It was time to tract. I was with Elder Jones, we met many fine people. Matt was the stand out and he quite happily accepted a pamphlet which was rather nice of him. He seemed to posses a keen mind, and may have been the type who was always asking questions in the hope of proving his supreme intelligence by the impossibility of their being answered. In spite of this we all got along swimmingly. Now amidst our efforts, which were rewarded with no major manifestation of success to speak of, we still however managed to achieve something of merit. Resigned to the fact that we might as well converse rather than be swallowed up by the awkwardness and oblivion that the alternative, silence offered, we began to speak at length. Never being one for idle chatter I made a point to plunge us head first with milstone attached into the ocean of the deep and meaningfuls. As I have already hinted this strategy did not go unrewarded. We found our way eventually to the topic of balance (contrary to what certain motivational speakers may have you believe this is the true "secret" to the universe: to do what is needed, when it is needed, but I digress). He shared with me this wonderful advice from his mission president. A much younger and not yet President (of the Auckland mission), but 'merely' Brother Cook was faced with the considerable task of raising a family of two children, working two Jobs, studying, being a husband and also a full time member of the church. He and his wife decided to plan to do all the gospel things first, the prayers, the study the service and then plan everything else around those important activities. Simple, pure, brilliant.
On this day the day of our Lord (being a Sunday), I was about trying to improve the righteousness of my Sabbath Day observance. In doing so I happily resolved to accept the invitation of the Elders to a teaching appointment that subsequently fell through. Left with an hour – a completely arbitrary amount of time, but agreed upon by all parties, at least implicitly – we resorted to the bane and blessing of all those who call themselves missionaries of the Lord. It was time to tract. I was with Elder Jones, we met many fine people. Matt was the stand out and he quite happily accepted a pamphlet which was rather nice of him. He seemed to posses a keen mind, and may have been the type who was always asking questions in the hope of proving his supreme intelligence by the impossibility of their being answered. In spite of this we all got along swimmingly. Now amidst our efforts, which were rewarded with no major manifestation of success to speak of, we still however managed to achieve something of merit. Resigned to the fact that we might as well converse rather than be swallowed up by the awkwardness and oblivion that the alternative, silence offered, we began to speak at length. Never being one for idle chatter I made a point to plunge us head first with milstone attached into the ocean of the deep and meaningfuls. As I have already hinted this strategy did not go unrewarded. We found our way eventually to the topic of balance (contrary to what certain motivational speakers may have you believe this is the true "secret" to the universe: to do what is needed, when it is needed, but I digress). He shared with me this wonderful advice from his mission president. A much younger and not yet President (of the Auckland mission), but 'merely' Brother Cook was faced with the considerable task of raising a family of two children, working two Jobs, studying, being a husband and also a full time member of the church. He and his wife decided to plan to do all the gospel things first, the prayers, the study the service and then plan everything else around those important activities. Simple, pure, brilliant.
9.
When you accidentally squeeze your hot dog out of its bun, there's no going back from that. Sure you can try to apply the two second rule, but good luck with those sticky condiments, there's bound to be hair and all sorts of undesirables once you get to the thing. Best to just walk away, dig grudgingly into your pockets and buy another.
Simon wasn't a hot dog, neither was his house a bun, and there wasn't a ready replacement if you chose to give up on him and find another. There was only one Simon and right now he was flying like a rocket across the night sky.
Brandon had been walking two a breast with his blind date, Melanie. With their considerable dimensions they obtruded all on coming foot traffic, who were forced to drop on the road to get around. This made Brandon smile, tonight he wasn't moving for anyone, or so he thought until what looked like a shooting star came hurtling towards them. Melanie was left with her leg trapped in a public garbage bin and screaming about the worst date she'd ever been on. Brandon had always had a certain way with women, tonight he though things would be different. Who was that flying man with the rocket up his rectum? Brandon had to know.
Simon wasn't a hot dog, neither was his house a bun, and there wasn't a ready replacement if you chose to give up on him and find another. There was only one Simon and right now he was flying like a rocket across the night sky.
Brandon had been walking two a breast with his blind date, Melanie. With their considerable dimensions they obtruded all on coming foot traffic, who were forced to drop on the road to get around. This made Brandon smile, tonight he wasn't moving for anyone, or so he thought until what looked like a shooting star came hurtling towards them. Melanie was left with her leg trapped in a public garbage bin and screaming about the worst date she'd ever been on. Brandon had always had a certain way with women, tonight he though things would be different. Who was that flying man with the rocket up his rectum? Brandon had to know.
Welcom to the Good Life
A revival of sorts is underway. I woke up the other morning and a soundbite I heard once popped into my head: "Self-Improvement is masturbation." Thanks Tyler Durden, I'll remember that. Is it true? It makes you feel good but in the end you're only screwing yourself? Hmmm time for a little experiment... From this day forward I vow to become (Reasonably) Amazing Guy, once mired in mediocrity, now I battle against the forces of apathy, melancholy, nihilism, entropy, the laws of physics and anyone else who gets in my way. In order to do so I must master the four corners of living well: mind, body, spirit and heart, it's like becoming Captain planet without being a total fag. I will ascend to the lofty heights of self-actualization through self transcendence and in the end I'll prove you wrong Tyler. Mark my words I'll prove you wrong!
Let the record show that Loren has now entered the uncharted territory of being the absolute man. In his head space no one can hear you scream. Be afraid, be very afraid.
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Loren Smash!
Don't be alarmed I wont hurt anyone, promise. If you're having difficulty seeing this picture it's OK that's just your retina's being burnt out by the reflective glare off of my ghostly white frame. I hear cataracts isn't that bad really, you'll get used to it. Ah, yes I'm ashamed to admit that I'm astonishingly unfathomably white, so embarrassed in fact that I post half naked pictures of myself on the internet for the whole world to see.
Now that I'm ready for gyming it up again and with the interest of humanity foremost in my mind I thought I'd take it upon myself to post a pre-work-out-pic of Loren. This is me before. As you can see the unthinkable has happened I actually have to strain to have my six pack show (a couple of the blighters are not quite poping the way I'd like, of course I played up the photo 'body for life' style for dramatic effect: making myself look fat and miserable and not really flexing). Don't worry though, my abs are perfectly fine and will be making an appearance in all their monochromatic Casper like glory very soon. Hey, what can I say I'm here for you guys.
Down to business...
Today at the gym I did a paltry:
DB flat bench press 2(30kg)/(2*10), 8
chins (I weigh 95kg)*10,8
volume: 3390kgs
Then I went up stairs and schooled some people at basketball.
8.
The puppy whom Canada had named Absolom, began to yelp in what sounded like a bad fossetto.
"What did you do to Absolom? He's barking like a girl."
"I don't know maybe the stimulation of walking's too much or maybe he just doesn't like the stupid name you gave him."
BOOM!
An explosion knocked Canada into the trunk of a nearby tree. She'd often thought that flora growing out of side walks was unnatural. Today life seemed to be affirming all her pet peeves.
Absolom was singed in a way that improved his complexion, while Daly was left exclaiming, "Holy Moly."
Not swearing when you have perfect reason to is a bad sign. Simon's house had just exploded in front of them, their being outside and not in was some consolation. But the unexpected explosion was only the beginning of the (up until then) happy trio's bewilderment. Simon burst through the roof and appeared to be flying. Was he running on rocket power? Flames were blazing from who knows where, but he seemed perfectly happy as a human comet, the destruction of his property notwithstanding.
Daly's suspension of disbelief snapped. After that he didn't know what to do.
"What did you do to Absolom? He's barking like a girl."
"I don't know maybe the stimulation of walking's too much or maybe he just doesn't like the stupid name you gave him."
BOOM!
An explosion knocked Canada into the trunk of a nearby tree. She'd often thought that flora growing out of side walks was unnatural. Today life seemed to be affirming all her pet peeves.
Absolom was singed in a way that improved his complexion, while Daly was left exclaiming, "Holy Moly."
Not swearing when you have perfect reason to is a bad sign. Simon's house had just exploded in front of them, their being outside and not in was some consolation. But the unexpected explosion was only the beginning of the (up until then) happy trio's bewilderment. Simon burst through the roof and appeared to be flying. Was he running on rocket power? Flames were blazing from who knows where, but he seemed perfectly happy as a human comet, the destruction of his property notwithstanding.
Daly's suspension of disbelief snapped. After that he didn't know what to do.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
All NBA baby!
I'm all NBA: Natural Born Athlete. I didn't discover this fact until I was close to my mid 20s, perhaps a little too late to achieve anything of merit in the sports world, but I've never really allowed reality to interfere with my plans too much.
I am the prototypical late bloomer, to reinforce this label my body in spite of my best efforts conspired against me inflicting or acquiescing to a strange undetectable medical anomaly. Exerting any physical energy beyond the strain of walking sapped all my energy and left me feeling as if my right eye were going to explode. The closest anyone ever came to explaining my condition was a vague allusion to something called Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, the long time go to scape goat of Doctors who weren't quite sure what the hell's wrong with you.
A few weeks ago I made an unexpected full recovery. I'm back. Who's gonna stop me now?
I am the prototypical late bloomer, to reinforce this label my body in spite of my best efforts conspired against me inflicting or acquiescing to a strange undetectable medical anomaly. Exerting any physical energy beyond the strain of walking sapped all my energy and left me feeling as if my right eye were going to explode. The closest anyone ever came to explaining my condition was a vague allusion to something called Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, the long time go to scape goat of Doctors who weren't quite sure what the hell's wrong with you.
A few weeks ago I made an unexpected full recovery. I'm back. Who's gonna stop me now?
7.
Simon sat up and scratched his head, something wasn't right. It wasn't left either, it was more like directly in line with his gaze, 12 o'clock as they say.
"Hello, Simon."
"Good morning?"
"I've been waiting." The Stranger was bald, or at least his head was shaven clean. He wore what looked to be a black leather trench coat and and an ostentatious pair of purple tinted glasses. A poor man's white version of Morpheus. He looked like a bit of a tosser.
"My dream..."
"You're perfectly awake young man. This is real life."
Simon and reality weren't quite on friendly terms just yet, "But, it didn't make any sense. Just like what's happening now. Who are you and what are you doing in my room!? It's really disturbing. I need to rest, I've got a big trip this evening."
The stranger dropped his cane, which had an impressive red gem as it's head, it clanked on the floor as he reached into his coat. Simon squeezed his sheets, bracing himself .
Out came a bag of gummi Bears, "Lets talk boy."
"Hello, Simon."
"Good morning?"
"I've been waiting." The Stranger was bald, or at least his head was shaven clean. He wore what looked to be a black leather trench coat and and an ostentatious pair of purple tinted glasses. A poor man's white version of Morpheus. He looked like a bit of a tosser.
"My dream..."
"You're perfectly awake young man. This is real life."
Simon and reality weren't quite on friendly terms just yet, "But, it didn't make any sense. Just like what's happening now. Who are you and what are you doing in my room!? It's really disturbing. I need to rest, I've got a big trip this evening."
The stranger dropped his cane, which had an impressive red gem as it's head, it clanked on the floor as he reached into his coat. Simon squeezed his sheets, bracing himself .
Out came a bag of gummi Bears, "Lets talk boy."
Monday, July 21, 2008
6.
The moon had long sought to out run the earth, but no matter how hard it tried it always seemed to find itself going around in circles. The dizzying effect of its sisyphitic journey across the night (and sometimes day) sky, weighed heavily upon its ever diminishing self-esteem. The Sun and stars blazed and sparkled on their own power, while it on the other hand was living on borrowed light, which often burned its face and left its backside rather pale in comparison(though few people ever saw there). With all the mindless spinning was it too much to ask for a decent tan?
Legend tells of the earth's greatest sniper who once shot a suped up Steyr SSG 69 bullet clear around the world and blew his own head off. Just to prove he could. The shot traveled at the same velocity and trajectory as the moon. Fast enough to avoid colliding with the earth, too slow to pull away from its orbit. Was there no escape?
Spiteful ruminations danced delicately along the precipice of its mind narrowly avoiding the chasm of insanity which had lay in wait on all sides for the better part of 6000 years (according to some Christian scholars). In reality it had been much longer than that, far longer, somewhere in the ballpark of 4.5 billion years. Damn you big bang, damn you to hell you inconsiderate bastard, why couldn't I've been a star...whine...whinge...cry... moan. 4.5 billion years was a long time, just ask the earth she had to put up with this s*** everyday.
Legend tells of the earth's greatest sniper who once shot a suped up Steyr SSG 69 bullet clear around the world and blew his own head off. Just to prove he could. The shot traveled at the same velocity and trajectory as the moon. Fast enough to avoid colliding with the earth, too slow to pull away from its orbit. Was there no escape?
Spiteful ruminations danced delicately along the precipice of its mind narrowly avoiding the chasm of insanity which had lay in wait on all sides for the better part of 6000 years (according to some Christian scholars). In reality it had been much longer than that, far longer, somewhere in the ballpark of 4.5 billion years. Damn you big bang, damn you to hell you inconsiderate bastard, why couldn't I've been a star...whine...whinge...cry... moan. 4.5 billion years was a long time, just ask the earth she had to put up with this s*** everyday.
Sunday, July 20, 2008
Perfunctionary no more
Why do I take the sacrament?
To remember, but just what exactly it is that I'm trying to recall is something I often struggle with. And then I'm reminded and I start all over again... Do I need to remember my abstract formulations of who Jesus was and the mechanics of how the Atonement works insofar as I understand them? That's certainly part of it, but the knowledge needs to go deeper than that. There are other neural pathways (and spiritual ones) that need to be accessed. It is said "by the power of the Holy Ghost ye may know the truth of all things" and that "Angels speak by the power of the Holy Ghost; wherefore, they speak the words of Christ. Wherefore, I said unto you, feast upon the words of Christ; for behold, the words of Christ will tell you all things what ye should do." So, to entertain the truth of what I'm remembering on a purely intellectual level would leave my knowledge of the reality of the divinity of Christ on par with the rest of my memorized facts about the world. However, these scriptures offer a valuable insight: stating that there is a special (non-provisional) knowledge available through a witness given by the Holy Ghost. The question is have I experienced this? Yes. OK, back to the beginning again, that's why I take the sacrament to remember the Atonement based on my own actual spiritual experience of its reality.
To remember, but just what exactly it is that I'm trying to recall is something I often struggle with. And then I'm reminded and I start all over again... Do I need to remember my abstract formulations of who Jesus was and the mechanics of how the Atonement works insofar as I understand them? That's certainly part of it, but the knowledge needs to go deeper than that. There are other neural pathways (and spiritual ones) that need to be accessed. It is said "by the power of the Holy Ghost ye may know the truth of all things" and that "Angels speak by the power of the Holy Ghost; wherefore, they speak the words of Christ. Wherefore, I said unto you, feast upon the words of Christ; for behold, the words of Christ will tell you all things what ye should do." So, to entertain the truth of what I'm remembering on a purely intellectual level would leave my knowledge of the reality of the divinity of Christ on par with the rest of my memorized facts about the world. However, these scriptures offer a valuable insight: stating that there is a special (non-provisional) knowledge available through a witness given by the Holy Ghost. The question is have I experienced this? Yes. OK, back to the beginning again, that's why I take the sacrament to remember the Atonement based on my own actual spiritual experience of its reality.
Friday, July 18, 2008
5.
"If you like cheese, you're a friend of mine, I'm a vibrant indifferent energetic modicum.
I speak English like I just invented a new language. I think I'll eat ice cream. I'm going to tell you one thing and not another this is the secret which all seekers of truth um, er, seek. Your head is the last refuge of humanity. I'm an eternal vessel an arc of the last and great day, when condemnation ascends the final excuse of retribution. Crude Oil is not the answer."
Simon opened his eyes, "That's the worst dream I've ever had."
I speak English like I just invented a new language. I think I'll eat ice cream. I'm going to tell you one thing and not another this is the secret which all seekers of truth um, er, seek. Your head is the last refuge of humanity. I'm an eternal vessel an arc of the last and great day, when condemnation ascends the final excuse of retribution. Crude Oil is not the answer."
Simon opened his eyes, "That's the worst dream I've ever had."
Thursday, July 17, 2008
4.
ribit, ribit
"I don't understand, he's not eating again. I'm going to have to start a damn pet shop just to get rid of these things."
"They're so cute though. I swear if the SPCA ever found out about this racket, you'd probably end up as Michael Vick's celly. Hey,I had this guy come into work today. You coulda fed him to your little beasty. Koopa probably feels guilty about eating the puppies, but you put another monster in there with him and he'd let loose, my guy woulda been perfect."
"That's dumb and you sound more depraved than I am."
ribit, ribit
"You're not depraved Daly, you're just misunderstood. Animal sacrifice is perfectly normal."
"Funny. Well C, shall we take one of these mutts for a walk while I think about what to do with them. I'm gonna drop by Simon's long the way. You shoulda heard him earlier. I mean I know he's crazy, but it's like he's constantly trying to out do himself."
ribit
"What are we gonna do there?"
"Go to the moon."
"I don't understand, he's not eating again. I'm going to have to start a damn pet shop just to get rid of these things."
"They're so cute though. I swear if the SPCA ever found out about this racket, you'd probably end up as Michael Vick's celly. Hey,I had this guy come into work today. You coulda fed him to your little beasty. Koopa probably feels guilty about eating the puppies, but you put another monster in there with him and he'd let loose, my guy woulda been perfect."
"That's dumb and you sound more depraved than I am."
ribit, ribit
"You're not depraved Daly, you're just misunderstood. Animal sacrifice is perfectly normal."
"Funny. Well C, shall we take one of these mutts for a walk while I think about what to do with them. I'm gonna drop by Simon's long the way. You shoulda heard him earlier. I mean I know he's crazy, but it's like he's constantly trying to out do himself."
ribit
"What are we gonna do there?"
"Go to the moon."
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
3.
Koopa sat solitary with a wisping tongue. Frogs hoped at the opposite side of the glass container. Koopa wondered why his life extended no further than a twelve foot radius. A pair of hands extended from overhead delivering a tasty fury creature. Koopa thought about eating it, but that just didn't seem very challenging anymore. The frogs started chirping.
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
writing sux
I'm trying to write everyday (except Sunday) on my Slightly Moderated Stream of Consciousness blog and I've recently discovered the above. It pretty much sux a lot better than anything else I've ever done. Take from that what you will. This could very well turn into a meta-blog, a blog about blog writing where you get to hear me whine and moan and be a big baby. Lets hope not.
2.
Canada had been at work all day. It was the kind of work that most of us can appreciate. Flipping paddies, scrubbing floors and making smiley faces at people like you're an email emoticon. Her experience had taught her that people we're infinitely dumber when they took on the mantle of customers and that by some inexplicable gift of providence she was somehow spared from adopting this stupidity herself when she was on the other side of the counter. This made it all the more difficult to empathise when someone ummed and ahhed and changed their order for the nth time, but in spite of her superiority she played it cool, made it out like she understood indecision and sometimes even wished deep down that she really could...
"Can I take your order, please."
"How bout you make it and I'll take it."
Was that a joke, lame.
"Ha, of course sir. If you'd be so kind as to let me know what you'd like, we'll have it here in a flash and you can be on your merry way."
"You'd like that now wouldn't you."
"Excuse me?"
"you types are all the same with your shiny badges and matching uniforms, think you can talk down to the rest of us civilized folk. And if I wanted you to flash anything it certainly wouldn't be my meal."
....This wasn't one of those times. Canada paused for a moment took a deep breathe and felt a whole lot more justified about her stance on customers.
"I'm sorry sir, you're right, can I take your order please Mr. ****wit."
"Can I take your order, please."
"How bout you make it and I'll take it."
Was that a joke, lame.
"Ha, of course sir. If you'd be so kind as to let me know what you'd like, we'll have it here in a flash and you can be on your merry way."
"You'd like that now wouldn't you."
"Excuse me?"
"you types are all the same with your shiny badges and matching uniforms, think you can talk down to the rest of us civilized folk. And if I wanted you to flash anything it certainly wouldn't be my meal."
....This wasn't one of those times. Canada paused for a moment took a deep breathe and felt a whole lot more justified about her stance on customers.
"I'm sorry sir, you're right, can I take your order please Mr. ****wit."
A little old school
To get me started here's a flash back to an old journal entry, just to get me back into the right flow, please excuse the exaggerated verbose language...
13 November 2007
I was wandering our wondrous metropolis (Auckland) and by chance bumped into a former University acquaintance. Louie shared with me his concerns about studying a BA, I was reluctant to dissuade him from his position, having graduated a philosophy major I know all too well the merit of said degree. I became a little flustered and wanted to depart at the most socially acceptable convenience (I was hungry), but he was intent on sharing his story. A little nudge came from what may have been the Holy Ghost. I thought that this was a good a time as any to share the gospel since my long lost acquaintance was fixed on engaging me so. To make the transition from educational misgivings to spiritual rejoicings, I first asked for his contact details, he inexplicably didn't know his own cell number (He is probably over 40 and hence new to the technology game); I seized upon this opportunity offering my own details as consolation, written on a pass along card no less. I offhandedly offered the DVD which can be ordered for free via the number on the back of the card as an early Christmas present. He seemed quite happy to investigate. "Wise as serpents and harmless as doves" somebody smart said that one time.
13 November 2007
I was wandering our wondrous metropolis (Auckland) and by chance bumped into a former University acquaintance. Louie shared with me his concerns about studying a BA, I was reluctant to dissuade him from his position, having graduated a philosophy major I know all too well the merit of said degree. I became a little flustered and wanted to depart at the most socially acceptable convenience (I was hungry), but he was intent on sharing his story. A little nudge came from what may have been the Holy Ghost. I thought that this was a good a time as any to share the gospel since my long lost acquaintance was fixed on engaging me so. To make the transition from educational misgivings to spiritual rejoicings, I first asked for his contact details, he inexplicably didn't know his own cell number (He is probably over 40 and hence new to the technology game); I seized upon this opportunity offering my own details as consolation, written on a pass along card no less. I offhandedly offered the DVD which can be ordered for free via the number on the back of the card as an early Christmas present. He seemed quite happy to investigate. "Wise as serpents and harmless as doves" somebody smart said that one time.
Monday, July 14, 2008
1.
"I'm powered by the magic of sugar." Simon: Sugardelic Superstar
"What are you saying?" Daly: Inventive, Didactic, Inquisitor.
"Some people might call it an addiction, I prefer to call it an insulin spike."
"Aha, so what is it do?" Eyes beginning to show signs of concern.
"Glad you asked. It raises my blood sugar levels thereby releasing insulin into my system. The thing I don''t understand is that if the insulin's already there (in my body somewhere) then why does my body hold it back? Well ya know maybe I am addicted, don't tell anyone OK.
"Why not you just did, anything else?"
"Not that I know of, just the usual. Flying to the moon later today. It's one of my secret powers. Our secret now."
"Umm, what are you on?"
"Sugar!"
This last statement seemed to put a damper on the conversation.
When they came to themselves. Daly looked hesitant about something, visibly. Cerebraly he may have been indifferent, but I don't read minds.
If you could have seen them both they would have reminded you of The Gorillaz, not that ape-like contemporaneous ancestor of humans but the cartoon crappy band The Gorillaz. It's very distinctive.
They both smelled more or less the same. With their noses. However, Simon had been experimenting with other orifices without success. Food usually entered through the mouth & exited through the rectum, while undergoing several chemical reactions. Most of them unpleasant, but then there was insulin.
When Daly was a younger chap he had a pet dog, which was depressingly unoriginal, He decided then that it was his life's mission to feed pet puppies to his specially imported Komodo Dragon, the novelty was quite exciting. Canada hasn't been the same since. With the recent diet issues of Koopa (the Komodo Dragon), Daly's been in search of a new life's quest. Simon wonders if sugar is the answer.
"What are you saying?" Daly: Inventive, Didactic, Inquisitor.
"Some people might call it an addiction, I prefer to call it an insulin spike."
"Aha, so what is it do?" Eyes beginning to show signs of concern.
"Glad you asked. It raises my blood sugar levels thereby releasing insulin into my system. The thing I don''t understand is that if the insulin's already there (in my body somewhere) then why does my body hold it back? Well ya know maybe I am addicted, don't tell anyone OK.
"Why not you just did, anything else?"
"Not that I know of, just the usual. Flying to the moon later today. It's one of my secret powers. Our secret now."
"Umm, what are you on?"
"Sugar!"
This last statement seemed to put a damper on the conversation.
When they came to themselves. Daly looked hesitant about something, visibly. Cerebraly he may have been indifferent, but I don't read minds.
If you could have seen them both they would have reminded you of The Gorillaz, not that ape-like contemporaneous ancestor of humans but the cartoon crappy band The Gorillaz. It's very distinctive.
They both smelled more or less the same. With their noses. However, Simon had been experimenting with other orifices without success. Food usually entered through the mouth & exited through the rectum, while undergoing several chemical reactions. Most of them unpleasant, but then there was insulin.
When Daly was a younger chap he had a pet dog, which was depressingly unoriginal, He decided then that it was his life's mission to feed pet puppies to his specially imported Komodo Dragon, the novelty was quite exciting. Canada hasn't been the same since. With the recent diet issues of Koopa (the Komodo Dragon), Daly's been in search of a new life's quest. Simon wonders if sugar is the answer.
Chronic Blogging Syndrome
Three days in and I'm already suffering from blogger fatigue, watch out it's contagious. I'm preparing to go to bball training for an NZ third division team which puts us in about the bottom millionth percentile talent wise for our sport. But why let the inability to make the NBA dampen our fun, we can pretend. Meanwhile, I can feel another blog coming on to fill the washed up journeyman athletes void I can see in the blogosphere. My brain may just exponentially explode. The Pope's in Australia. I'm not sure why this is relevant, maybe I'll join him. I think my favourite Pope was definitely Cerebus. Well as one entry ends another blog begins, maybe tonight, maybe tomorrow who can tell. Looks like that fatigue's not going anywhere, but up.
Sunday, July 13, 2008
Hello World!
"There are conversations going on about the Church constantly. Those conversations will continue whether or not we choose to participate in them. But we cannot stand on the sidelines while others, including our critics, attempt to define what the Church teaches. While some conversations have audiences in the thousands or even millions, most are much, much smaller. But all conversations have an impact on those who participate in them. Perceptions of the Church are established one conversation at a time." M. Russell Ballard
Disclaimer as Preamble: The views expressed in this blog are the author's and do not (necessarily) represent those of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints... Of course I'll do my best to get it right. In the spirit of Nephi's "small plates" I'll record spiritual experiences and gospel insights - which will hopefully be appropriate for Internet consumption. We can look through the glass darkly or in a less archaic form: watch static on TV, but either of these seem far less useful than seeking out the clarity that the truth brings and deny us the fun of virally infecting the entire Internet with it. I'm game, let's start talking, let me know what you think.
Saturday, July 12, 2008
Introduction
"The first draft is [feces]" I'm trying to give up swearing, but Hemingway was probably right. Ever since I plagiarised my first story and received unwarranted praise on account of it I've felt a strange swelling in my right testicle, which I can only attribute to a divinely appointed calling to become a writer. This dodgy event has become mythologized, if only in my own mind (the story, not the inflammation). Some day I may even tell you about it.
As for now I'd like to test Ernest's theory, and actually maybe even do some writing. I've never written a novel before (while reading my prose you may conclude that I've never actually read one either, this is not far from the truth) and although I'm partial to procrastination, I've decided that the public humiliation of actually writing will be slightly less severe than the public humiliation of not writing (somewhat debatable), so I'll go with the lesser evil even if it's the devil that I don't know.
Enough with the cliches. This will be a departure from anything of that nature. Well, probably not. But by using only the powers of my own mind, which are overflowing with originality, I'll write a story with no outline, no character notes, no premeditation, no plot, very little editing and a whole bunch of fecal matter (metaphorically speaking). Posting three days a week (New Zealand Standard Time) and in this reverse chronological format you'll have to read it backwards. May Allah have mercy on us all.
**the schedule part of this entry has been revised several times**
As for now I'd like to test Ernest's theory, and actually maybe even do some writing. I've never written a novel before (while reading my prose you may conclude that I've never actually read one either, this is not far from the truth) and although I'm partial to procrastination, I've decided that the public humiliation of actually writing will be slightly less severe than the public humiliation of not writing (somewhat debatable), so I'll go with the lesser evil even if it's the devil that I don't know.
Enough with the cliches. This will be a departure from anything of that nature. Well, probably not. But by using only the powers of my own mind, which are overflowing with originality, I'll write a story with no outline, no character notes, no premeditation, no plot, very little editing and a whole bunch of fecal matter (metaphorically speaking). Posting three days a week (New Zealand Standard Time) and in this reverse chronological format you'll have to read it backwards. May Allah have mercy on us all.
**the schedule part of this entry has been revised several times**
The World According to Loren
In the beginning I began writing a blog and I saw it and it was good. Then I thought about things and considered revising my opinion. As a proud member of the late majority and since everyone else has been blogging since sometime last century I thought I'd slip comfortably into my wait-and-see-what's-popular role and start doing the same. This collection of writings will reflect my slightly perverse view of life and document my attempts to become a God or perhaps more realistically I'll have to settle for taking over the world.
In the humanistic tradition of self-absorption my first blog is all about me and my life. The world according to Loren. Some names will be changed to protect the innocent, some wont to embarrass the guilty. You've been warned; let the games begin.
In the humanistic tradition of self-absorption my first blog is all about me and my life. The world according to Loren. Some names will be changed to protect the innocent, some wont to embarrass the guilty. You've been warned; let the games begin.
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