Even in absurdity, sacrament.    Even in hardship, holiness.    Even in doubt, faith.     Even in chaos, realization.   Even in paradox, blessedness.   

Home of Theodore "jay" Joslin; divinity student, author, wingnut, and queer nature boy. Dedicated to the Unity and Sacredness of All-That-Is, including and especially you.


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February 2003
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Digging the Immaterial;
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pondering the Universe
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by jay joslin

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04/06/2003 to 04/12/2003
03/30/2003 to 04/05/2003
03/23/2003 to 03/29/2003
03/16/2003 to 03/22/2003
03/09/2003 to 03/15/2003
03/02/2003 to 03/08/2003
02/23/2003 to 03/01/2003
02/16/2003 to 02/22/2003
02/09/2003 to 02/15/2003
02/02/2003 to 02/08/2003
01/26/2003 to 02/01/2003
( inside jay's head ) 01/26/2003 - 02/01/2003
( inside jay's head ) 01/19/2003 - 01/25/2003
( inside jay's head ) 01/12/2003 - 01/18/2003


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spirituality, consciousness

sillyness, satire, absurdity


posting under the influence

Saturday, 8 February, 2003...........................................................

"Spellbound"

Despite all my worrying, the Hunger Banquet was a success and went off without a hitch. There were some raids by the third world, minor upheavals in the second, and first worlders so disgusted by the numbers of hungry in the world that they couldn't eat their gourmet meals. Somehow, I managed to be funny and entertaining... it could have been the wine. The youth did a great job, dancing, hawking wares, one of which I bought.

The drum. The big heartbeat drum. The big calling-across-the-mountains drum. This drum was made in Haiti and came back with the last trip. I took it home and dried the head, and gave it a few taps to see if she was ready. A few taps turned into some timeless expanse of tapping, banging, beating, breathing with the drum, a full blown trance with the drum, a dance with the drum. Now, I don't keep beats, I lose them. Musically speaking, I'm only predisposed to listen, for everyone else's sake. But it was like the drum was teaching me, being patient with me, letting me find how to speak in that language. Spellbound, it wasn't long before I was asleep.


The dream I most remember found me in Haiti, in a crowded marketplace. The language was very clear. The mood was cautionary.. . that I had permission to be there but could not upset the balance. I had no money, was hungry and a little lost. But I was happy, absorbing Haiti into my skin, my eyes, it all felt so real. Then, I was in Tierra del Fuego, sitting at the stony, icy edge of South America, watching dolphins and penguins frolic. It wasn't that cold, but there was a constant wind, and I remember trying to collect my thoughts as one would collect rocks. One thought I had apparently found turned into my boss... we were going to drink wine and [yuck]aspic, watch a movie backwards and talk politics.

I usually don't have a clue what my dreams are about, and I try not to pick them apart. It's part of the visionary circus that rolls through the soul all day, all night long. Once asleep, then we can pay attention. From them, to take a few images and hold on to them, or mold them into something real, tangible, maybe that's not the purpose, but a purpose. Recipes for art, for speaking in a deeper language.

jay wrote this at 09.12 EST| entry link| your thoughts?|

Friday, 7 February, 2003...........................................................

Elemental Fun The Periodic Table of Poetry

jay wrote this at 13.30 EST| entry link| your thoughts?|

"Tell-A-Vision"

I don't like TV and I have no problem saying it. Everytime I'm near one of the blasted things I get revolted in some way. Yet I think we Americans enjoy getting revolted. We don't wind up doing much with that emotion, however, and just stick around for the next revolting thing. We could revolt but it's easier to revert. In any case, I got sucked in last night. I used to have the "safety feature" on my telly of having no cable, no antenna. Well when Columbia went down, I rushed out to purchase an antenna, as a matter of national insecurity. My housemate informed me that the Jacko exposé was on, and I hesitated for about 10 seconds. Bring on the dirt, girlfriend!

I offer no opinions of it, other than that he is a sad figure whose eccentricities and proclivities could fall into some unpretty legal/ethical grey areas. It did seem like they were out to hang the chap, and in the mistrial of public opinion they may have succeeded.

I couldn't take being in front of the thing any longer and, exhausted by doing essentially nothing, dragged my entertainment-weary body to bed. I dreamt that I had gone out to vote, and the polling station was in some place that vaguely resembled a church. Once I showed my ID I was told to take the escalator down to the actual voting machines... it was a spiral escalator, then turned into long astroturfed ramps, then rickety stairs, elevators, and by then I was on the ground floor of what appeared to be a college dorm. A jock passed by and I asked him "which way to the voting machines?" "In there, dude," he replied, and hopped into the elevator with his sports car. "There" was a game room, filled to the brim with arcade games. I wouldn't go in, and insensed with civic duty, I woke up, went on line, and found this. Which led to something else entirely.


A surreal, snowy morning indeed. Tonight, I emcee the Hunger Banquet, and the rest of the weekend, I work on the book with the typist. The trick is to figure out what to do right now. Nature won me a day off work, what should I do with it? I know I have many things I have to do, but I'm thinking about frivolity and gaity. Hmmmmm. We spend so much time thinking about what to do, and so little time doing it.

Thus...

jay wrote this at 10.23 EST| entry link| your thoughts?|

Thursday, 6 February, 2003...........................................................

"All About Babo"

I had a chat with a friend this morning about the rather eccentric Greek goddess Babo. She's a bit on the headless side, with a face in her tummy, with her beard over the naughty bits. So, not knowing much else about her than an alternate-anatomy-schmeme, I googled her and only came with with Tripodesque pages, spinning out of control with animated gifs and Enya midis, only mentioning her name but little else. I'm assuming she's a bit of a trickster, particularily since she's so elusive in the digital sense. Nonetheless, I did find a very good mega-resource for mythology, even if it is served with an indulgent helping of blinking things.

The same friend gave me a Peter Pan costume today. I think I'll wear a sombrero with it and be Pedro Pan instead. Just for variety.

jay wrote this at 14.04 EST| entry link| your thoughts?|

You Go, Gumby: Terry Jones of Monty Python fame: I'm losing patience with my neighbours, Mr Bush

jay wrote this at 12.58 EST| entry link| your thoughts?|

"The Unicycle of Progress"

Tonight the typist and I banged through 19 pages of "the book." There are 39 items and untold pages to go, but he's so damn fast that I really feel like I've got a chance at getting this thing monster done.

Also worked on the comedy gig with the gang... sheesh, whatever have I gotten myself into? Dancing in a tutu to "Muskrat Love?" One-liners from the Wailing Wall? Channeled scripture from Ethel Merman? Sermonella poisoning? The Offeratory militia? Ay-yay-yay! Religion sure is a funny business.

The next hurdle this week is the Hunger Banquet. Trying to be funny about a rather unfunny thing. Kepping the heavy light. No simple task, and I didn't ask for it. But, it'll help get us to Haiti, so I'll do just about anything...

In other news, I don't buy Colin Powell's schtick. Sure, Iraq is likely hiding weapons. Would you blame them? "Ooos, sorry about the whole WMD deal. Here's our loot... could you bomb us on Tuesday, after 3pm? Thanks America!" Don't we do the same thing, on a grander scale? C'mon people, same paradigm, different excuses. War begets war. Evolved political solutions beget evolved political solutions. Let's get off this confusing vehicle of violence and get on the unicycle of progress, please.

jay wrote this at 01.05 EST| entry link| your thoughts?|

Wednesday, 5 February, 2003...........................................................

"Obvious Move..."

How typical of the foreign policy machinations of the US to threaten France and Russia ( Germany not far behind ) with denial of access to post-Husseini oil fields for not supporting the upcoming and virtually inevtibale war. It's a move that clearly demonstrates the obvious motivations of the American regieme. Such a nanny-nanny-boo-boo playground squabble with millions of lives at statke, and the stability of a whole region. Could someone disarm US before it's too late?

jay wrote this at 12.44 EST| entry link| your thoughts?|

Tuesday, 4 February, 2003...........................................................

"Game Night"

I have just gotten back from the always impromtu, always Margherita-infested "Game Night," where a gathering of Jubilants shmoozes, jibes and cavorts together with one or more board games being played. Tonight we played "Apples," a card games wherein an adjective is tossed out, and you find either the most appropriate or inappropriate card in your lot that matches it. So, from that experience, two things I can say that are true; my body is radical and Mike Tyson is distinguished. At any rate, it was good to be in the comapny of such good people.

Earlier I planned for the Hunger Banquet I'm emceeing on Friday and tomorrow I work on the comedy gig. Next week, auditions for our next production and the 16th, the deadline for the book. As is obvious, every burner on the stove is taken and I'm short in the kitchen. Sure, it's an anxious time, but I love, and am lucky for, the rush.

jay wrote this at 21.30 EST| entry link| your thoughts?|

"Scrunchbreak"

Dreams last night were not memorable... Before bed i went for a jog and everything was so clear and radiant, that i thought that it was good stimuli for dreammaking. Alas, from the jumble i recall only an impatient lover, some kind of quarrel and train tracks.

Sigh... lunchbreaks go by all too fast.

jay wrote this at 12.20 EST| entry link| your thoughts?|

Monday, 3 February, 2003...........................................................

"Fonts"

I should record this dream last night... work was called off because there were 1 to 3 inches of fonts throughout the county, and there was a winter font warning. People were advised not to travel unless accustomed to language and style.

I think I went out to shovel the driveway and I made a large pile of the bolds, italics, and underscored, then I realized that the pile had turned into Finnegan's Wake.

In this instance, I fear any analysis.

jay wrote this at 16.34 EST| entry link| your thoughts?|

"Beautiful Statement about Empire by Arundhati Roy"

Nice find on Metafilter: "Our strategy should be not only to confront empire, but to lay siege to it. To deprive it of oxygen. To shame it. To mock it. With our art, our music, our literature, our stubbornness, our joy, our brilliance, our sheer relentlessness %u2014 and our ability to tell our own stories. Stories that are different from the ones we%u2019re being brainwashed to believe. The corporate revolution will collapse if we refuse to buy what they are selling %u2014 their ideas, their version of history, their wars, their weapons, their notion of inevitability. Remember this: We be many and they be few. They need us more than we need them. Another world is not only possible, she is on her way. On a quiet day, I can hear her breathing."


-Speaking at the World Social Forum in Porto Alegre, Brazil, January 27, 2003, via "nofundy" at Metafilter

jay wrote this at 16.25 EST| entry link| your thoughts?|

"Lunchbreak and Dandelions"

Home.. I'm here right now but it's enticements and tempations are far away yet, for this is lunchbreak. Luckily, the office is quiet and no one is pinching, scratching, hitting or drooling upon me. On my way out the door I was inspired by one lone little dandelion poking through the dull, winterworn soil. So vivid, so daring, I hovered over this little tendril of life for a while, enrapt and enchanted.

It's an image I'd like to hold on to; when our little world seems washed out and hopeless, we can't forget that the rest of the world is alive, and will indeed flourish, whether we like it or not. So we may as well like it.

My batteries of consciousness are charged with a mere 3 hours of sleep, but I'm feeling very alert and chipper. Had a great time, as always, with Joshua last night. And as always, he was very supportive, after telling him about my past week's emotions after the romantic deflation with Steven.I'm damn lucky I've got folk to count on no matter how loony I get.

Speaking of the deflation... I've got an idea; a "gay C.I.A.," wherein records could be kept of all the leaders-on, game-players, two-timers and otherwise sordid characters one must run the love-gauntlet with. It would of course be reasonable that if I wished to access such files, that the "gay C.I.A." would have to open a file on me... I wonder what they'd find?

jay wrote this at 12.36 EST| entry link| your thoughts?|

"Irony in the Fire"

Without editorial comment and in deepest reverence to all, I find it queasily ironic that Israeli astronaut Ilan Ramon's remains were found in Palestine, Texas. Doubtless, this is kindling for the fires for those that deal in portents and omens. If anything, it's randomness dealing us a hand that our conditioning can't bluff. Our quizzical nature makes us read between the lines that we construct, a manufactured end to our means. Fate is just too damn quirky, sometimes.

Shalom Aleichem, a'Salaam Aleikim.

jay wrote this at 00.30 EST| entry link| your thoughts?|

Sunday, 2 February, 2003...........................................................

"Sauntering into Tomorrow"

I'm pleased to officially open birdonthemoon.com... all content from universal-love.org has been transferred, and everything is operating smoothly. But html aside, there's life going on.

Today I wandered through Smiley's mega-yard sale in a dream-like daze. I'm still in shock about Columbia, and I suppose I was rather surprised at the lack of emotion and empathy from "the people." No one has really seemed to notice, or find it all that big-a-deal. Maybe 9-11 really raised the bar on tragedy and sensationalism. "Who cares about a little rocket when we've lost the towers?" Yes, we die all the time in horrible ways, and little expression bothers to appear on the Face of America. Those astronauts, however, represented all of us, worldwide, in our mythic quest to evolve in and explore the universe which cradles our cathedrals, concert halls, and super malls alike. To understand the world beyond this one will enable our species to better understand this one, and that is how learning is meant to unfold, from within to without. Are they not then, heroes? Sure, we're talking the US Guvmint here... tyrannical, understatedly unethical, dangerous, but the space program was one of the shining stars on ol' glory... the pioneer spirit of what we're supposed to be all about.

I've received a deadline from my publisher and have secured the typing services of a friend, and we're going to try to beat the clock. The timing can't be worse, what with all the events unfolding that require either my presence or schtick. But, coming from the metaphorical wreckage of the past week, I'm ready for a little Phoenix action. Bring it on, world.

jay wrote this at 19.21 EST| entry link| your thoughts?|





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jay/Male/26-30. Lives in United States/North Carolina/Woodfin/New Bridge, speaks English and French. Spends 40% of daytime online. Uses a Normal (56k) connection. And likes creativity/mysticism.
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