Universal Sibling

Hello, Universe. 

It's me again. I woke up missing you as always. It's only me, sibling of the universe, child of the cosmos, the very humbled Cosmic Wie. A fancy name barely a shield for, indeed, those who look can still see the imperfect human being behind the curtain. Sometimes, I feel nobody knows me. Sometimes, I feel everyone sees right through me. Ah, but with no real degree of certainty, except that I am here and this is now. Beyond the obvious, I truly know nothing anymore. Ah, the circle of life. At first, one knows everything. Then one learns. And what one learns is that one never knew anything at all. And that is where wisdom begins. What they don't tell you about wisdom is that it can feel like a punch to the gut and a kick in the ass. Ah, but how are things going otherwise? Hmmmmm. I'm not sure just how obliviously out cold I was this morning, but it took eight minutes of loud beeping for the alarm to wake me. To paraphrase the good Doctor Frankenstein, "IT'S ALIVE!" (Though I could have done better with a few more zaps) When are they going to invent that human charger? Turn the voltage up, Igor!" "Yes, Great One! I'll do your bidding!" (loud electrical arcing ensues) Ah, much better! Geesh! Is something burning? In my best Bruce Springsteen voice, "Woah oh oh, I'm on fire." How can he be so calm about it? Not me, buddy. Given the choice, any other fate would be better. Not good, pal, not good at all. I can see that maybe I'm not quite awake yet. My rambling is more ramble than usual. My jumble is more jumbled. My chaos is more chaotic. In other words, ladies and gentlemen, friends, Romans, robots, and strangers, I am just not ready for this day. Ugh! Oog! Aag! Ooga booga unga bunga, Ogg no wanna. Regardless, the day's ready and refuses to wait on the likes of little 'ol' me. I actually did good yesterday. I got the lawn, the laundry, and the bills done. I even made some cool demos of Duke Nukem Caribbean and 1999 using that save feature I found last week. And then, around 7:00 last night, I fell into the deepest sleep I've had in a while and didn't wake up until time to get ready for work this morning. Ah, hibernation at it finest. I would make Da Bears proud. Still, I feel that ten hours of oblivion was not quite enough. A few more hours would have been superb. I spent my father's day working in the yard. It's the only way to be with him these days. If that means I'm crazy, then ladies and gentlemen, I have earned my insanity quite well. "I can't imagine my life without you" can have two reasons: The first is literally not being able to while you're still here. The second is living in that reality you couldn't imagine before. I can't imagine a world, where the birds still sing, where the sun still rises, where the bills still roll in, where people go on about things like they always have, and where I am expected to function as I always have. I can't imagine it. But here the world is, devoid of you. And then you realize that the struggle was never imagination at all, but acceptance. And Friends, Romans, Robots, and Strangers: I regret to report that I'm just not there yet. I am at least happy with what I accomplished yesterday. My hopes were not all that high Saturday. The sound of the rain and the rumbling of thunder was making me quite lazy. Thoughts of a Father's Day without my own father were making me feel not so inspired to get out of bed. Ah, but yesterday, actual Father's Day, I got up early and got everything I needed to do done. Like I said, it's the only way to spend that day with my father anymore. Next month, July 21st, will make a year he's been gone. I can't believe it has already been that long. Memories seem a bit too fresh for it to have already been a year. While there seems to still be solid ground beneath my feet, I have to wonder. There is the quicksand of dreams that tell me far more than is generally known without. It shows a hidden reality within, far beneath the calm surface of lucidity, unbound by reason, thoughts can go anywhere. And do you know what they reveal? They show in stark display the difference between the persona and the person, that we're not as okay as we pretend to be. And while the image and the projection are far closer to perfection than we could ever reach, images and reflections lack the heart and soul and realness of an imperfect human being. One can be infatuated with an image, but real love needs realness, and that is a human thing. Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain. I am the Great and Powerful Wizard of Oz. In truth, everybody's fighting their own war. Grief leaves no life untouched, no heart unbroken. I know I am not the only one, even though it feels that way sometimes. It's nobody's fault. It's just the way of the human heart. We can be all together in our feelings, yet there are things we must face alone. It's just the way of heart and soul. Axl Rose was wrong. We don't necessarily come into this world alone. My loving parents were there. We don't necessarily leave this world alone, either. We were all there, showing our love. It was the hardest thing I ever faced, but I do not regret it. I would hope there will be those there for me when it comes my time. We don't arrive alone. We don't depart alone. But we do leave people behind. And that's the most difficult thing of all. I am not the only one who lost loving parents or a baby sister who believed in me. I know this. It still doesn't make me feel any better. Okay, Enough! Subject change! Ribbit-ribbit Subject change! Behold, The Frog's Lament! It's not that easy bein' green. Ribbit-ribbit, frog sad. Ribbit-Ribbit, I guess I'll go back to my pad.. Ribbit! Lilly pad, that is, Ribbit-ribbit! Nice frogs finish last... Why do all the wrong frogs escape the frog zone? Bad frog! Wrong frog! Ribbit fix me, said the wrong frog. But Ribbit-ribbit, you must make all the effort because Ribbit-ribbit lazy frog, Ribbit-ribbit selfish frog. Yep. Sad frog sees it all from the distance of the swamp zone. You lament how all fogs bad, but Ribbit-ribbit, you picked the wrong frog yesterday. You picked the wrong frog today, and you'll pick the wrong frog tomorrow. Ribbit-ribbit that does it! Next time, you can retrieve that golden ball from the well yourself, Ribbit-ribbit! [hops away] Damn it! They say you can pick your friends, but not your kin... And not who you happen to fall in love with either... Well, as far as for kin, I got awesomely lucky to have had the family I did. I'm not so lucky in love, though. Nope, not at all. How did Lindsey Buckingham's lyrics go? "If I could, baby, I'd give you my world. How can I when you won't take it from me?" Ah, I'd dedicate the first verse to my special friend. The second one goes out to the ex. Nope. The Great Cosmic Wie has never once been lucky in love. It's the same old lament. The Frog's Lament. Ribbit stop, ribbit stop! Why can't you see? Oh, well. It is high time to focus on other things. Obviously, romance is off the table. Ribbit, damn it! Ribbit, damn it! So goes the fortune of frogs. Even Kermit couldn't do better than a Ms Piggy. Yep, it's not easy being green at all. Though I guess I the human am mostly green with jealousy. Envy is one of those seven deadly sins, right? But I wouldn't be so damn jealous if she was being treated right. Ah, but it's none of my business. She picked that frog and not this one, Ribbit-ribbit! So goes the fate of mice and men.... And frogs, Ribbit-ribbit! I do believe it is time for another one of my famous subject changes. Clean cup move down! No more getting froggy. Even if I'm monster movie foggy! That's von, two, three, ah ah ahhhh! Vat do you mean I don't count? I am The Count, Ah Ah Ahhh! Two point one megabytes, ah ah Ahhh! Hey, what did Bill O'Reilly say when asked to do a show in Thailand? Phucket! We'll do it live! Wocka wocka wocka! I can see Fozzie Bear glaring at me with disapproval. Well, it's another Mourn day. Bummer, dude. At least I slept well. It makes all the bullshit tolerable. Well, mostly. Life is 70% bullshit and 30% worthwhile endeavors. We've gotta grind through the 70 to get to the 30. Well, my 30 is over. Back to the 70. Or as the demon down in hell in charge of the room waste deep in (you know what) said, "Coffee break's over, back on your heads!" Then the devil looked over at me and said, "Hell, ain't it?" My sense of humor can best be summarized by this scene from "Heavy Metal" with this Ben Stein-ish style scientist, droning on before congress about there being no proof of extraterrestrial life, juxtaposed by a scene outside with a gigantic spaceship hovering over the capital building. Oh, and also how the Crips approved of Jimmy and Timmy bringing marshmallows and ginger ale. "Yeah, and they got us marshmallows and ginger ale." will have me in hysterics no matter how many times I watch that episode. Then there's that episode of Pinky and The Brain with the Beatles and Yoko. George: "She's terrible!" Paul: "She's horrible!" Ringo: "She can't sing!" John: "I LOVE HER!" Then the two walk off together, hearts all around. Eeee Yaw Eeee Yaw Eeeeeeee! Now it's Tuesday, also known as Monday Part 2: The Revenge. "Nothing this evil ever dies." Coming soon to a workplace near you. You know? I don't always Chi Chi Chi. But when I do, I ah, ah, ah. Ah, but Friday the 13th was last week. Jason Voorhees and Michael Myers never say a word. Freddy, Pinhead, and Ghostface? Now, they know how to trash talk. Especially Freddy. He is the king of trash talk. He also doesn't give a flark what Zsa Zsa Gabor thinks. Damn. Doesn't it seem we're like George Jetson caught in this crazy thing, poor Superman caught in a revolving door? Civilization is a great thing. It sure beats chaos and disorder. Ah, but it's a machine we get caught up in, despite being the lesser of two evils. Welcome to Earth. Now, get to work! Life is a mess. For the meticulously organized minds out there, it's a damn tragedy. We would love to have things in perfect order, A to Z. But it's impossible. We want it neat, orderly, and to make some kind of logical sense. It never will. As much as we want it to be that way, It'll never happen. The universe will always be chaotic and entropic. It'll never be the way we want it to be. We'll never be the way we wish to be. Life is a mess, and so are we. It is a difficult thing to accept. There are a lot of imperfections, a lot of loose threads I'd love to fix, but I can't. All too often, there are no second chances in this life. Some challenges happen before we are ready before we had acquired the necessary knowledge, wisdom, and maturity. The tests came, and sometimes we failed. Only later came the lessons and the wisdom. Only later did we truly grow up. I know we shouldn't so harshly blame ourselves for not knowing better, for not realizing in a time before we truly understood. Ah, but we do, don't we? For we fans of logic, reason, and sense, it is an underlying heartache that never truly goes away. It is a life sentence of lamentation, remorse, and regret. Nobody has a closet free of skeletons. Me, I sometimes feel I have the whole army of darkness in there. Where's Ash when you need him? Hail to the king, baby. If only life were like my computer games with the ability to save the state. I would make sure everything was right. Anything wrong, I would go back and fix. I would apply a half century of wisdom instead of being young and stupid. All my i's would be dotted, and every T would be crossed. Nothing would be out of place. Every regret would be erased. When one plays back the demo of my life, not one mistake would show. I would do things right the first time, every time. How wonderful it would be! Imagine the peace and tranquility that would be in my heart. Imagine these burdens not being on my soul. Imagine being for all time, past, present, and future, the person I should have been all along. If the Good Lord can't offer me this, then there simply is no such thing as Heaven. I would rather be rescued by the loving arms of Oblivia, forgetting for all eternity that I ever existed. That may well be the only true peace that will ever be, the bliss of eternal ignorance. It wouldn't be ideal, but it would be mercy. Okay. It seems my thoughts have gotten heavy again. Let's try for a subject change, shall we? Clean cup move down! No room? Sure, there's always room! Room in the giant mushroom. Kidding! Though they sure seemed to help Mario.... And... Timothy Leary. It does not surprise me that if you send Tommy Chong to fetch a doctor, it would be Doctor Timothy Leary he'd bring back. Are you sure you want the key? Are you sure you want to be free? Yeah... I am messed up enough without drugs. I sure as hell don't want to make things worse. I am totally out of my mind, and I never paid a dime. My messed uppedness never required any chemical enhancement. If life's a trip, then I am already on it and have been so since my birth. And, in the words of Jerry Garcia, what a long, strange trip it's been. It is a fun house ride that will shatter the sanity of any reasonable mind. And I wasn't all that reasonable to begin with. Minds tend to move. Sometimes, they never come back. The trip goes on, and sometimes I'm not even sure where (or when) I am anymore. Minds move, the world turns, and people leave all the time. The only constant is me, but not really, as it seems I've been going through changes, in a constant flux to where not even I know exactly who I am anymore. You could say I had to go a little crazy to keep my sanity, counterintuitive, though that might seem. I needed to find a reason to live, the motivation to face each day. And I was already going through a very dark time even before all hell broke loose in 2022. I needed to mentally upend the table, at least in my own mind. It was the only way to stay functional, to keep going when things otherwise seemed so pointless, so hopeless. I can never explain to others what I can not fully understand, myself. You see, I have spent a long time trying to figure out just who I am. Losing three of my loved ones in these last few years have not helped matters, to say the very least. I have gone through so many changes that I can no longer keep up with my own definition. I bet it would sting to have a Lion King style vision where my father appeared and said to me that I had forgotten who I am and have therefore forgotten him. But that's not true. My father was the man I tried so hard to be, but I am not him. We had many things in common, but I am a different person. Not a better person, only me. And I own this train wreck of my life. I well remember things he tried to tell me, but I wouldn't listen back then. He did the absolute best he could by me. My screw ups are mine, not his. I own the blame for my own mistakes. I had good loving parents. Granted, I didn't get on drugs or get in trouble with the law. I generally think of myself as a decent human being and an okay father to my own children. I didn't become an axe wielding clown faced psychopathic serial killer. I'd like to think I'm a good person. Still, for me, that's just not good enough. I will never blame them. My imperfections are my own doing. My mistakes, my duck ups, and stupid decisions are my own damn fault and not theirs. I was not an easy kid to raise. I didn't come with a manual either. I had wonderful parents who truly loved me, did so much for me, went above and beyond for me. I would hope they would like the person I have become, that all the knowledge and wisdom they imparted was not a waste of time. Ah, heavy, heavy again.. Clean cup move down! Just how is a raven like a writing desk again? Mad watch! Mad watch! Yep. Two days slow, that's the problem. Sometimes, I wonder why I keep writing these ramblings. I have my serious doubts about the entertainment value here. It's not a book, though it's a bit longer so far than a lot of them. Ah, but not even half the megabytes as the King James Bible... Ah, so there's a goal, I guess. I doubt it would have the same staying power. No preacher is going to tell the congregation to turn to the Book Of Wie, Chapter 1, Verse 3. Fair enough. I am no prophet, and I'm definitely not a god. Believe me, if I were a god, there would be some serious changes around here. It's probably not going to be a book, much less a movie. If it were a movie, I'd be one of those loud obnoxious folks in the back row, yelling, "Don't do it, stupid!" at my younger self. You know, like in a horror movie where they say, "Oh no, don't you go in there!" And Jason is like, "Shut up, will ya! Ya'll making my job harder than it needs to be!" So... Probably neither a book nor a movie will my ramblings ever be. So, why continue? Cheap therapy. Doctor Blog-ieo PhD. (Phony Diploma). Friends, this isn't the product, but the byproduct. In an age where stigma reigns supreme, with distance and price his royal advisors, this is how poor people deal with mental issues. But, hey, it keeps me functioning out in the world. If I stay functional, I can keep holding down a job and keep paying the bills. Best of all, nobody has to know my business, aside from you, my dear friends, Romans, robots, and strangers. But you won't call those guys in the white coats with the good drugs, will ya? On second thought, I could use a vacation. I am Napoleon Bonaparte, and I demand a room with a view! I feel a lot like my first car: Ragged, run down, a bit rusty, but still working, but in the many adventures we had together, I sure loved that car all the same. Maybe there's hope for me yet. I also hope that this makes sense on some level, but it could be a bridge too far. Clean cup? Move down? Yeah, let's do that. Oh, and a very merry unbirthday to you. On an easier topic, I have to say that Dosbox X's save state function works quite awesomely for recording demos. So far, it has worked flawlessly with both Doom and Duke Nukem 3D. I am working on revamping all my demos. Duke, Doom, and any DOS FPS game that records demos. It's nice not having to start all over. I can have some very flashy game play without the risk of messing everything up. See why I wish life were more like those games? No more messing up. Well, it happens, but I can go back and fix it, and then it's like it never happened. Yep. I could do well with the same powers in real life. Sadly, life is not a 1990s DOS game. Bummer, dude. In life, we do the best we can. In games, however, my best is a hell of a lot better. I am Cyber Merlin. Behold, my power! No in-game monster or alien can resist my power. No pixelated anime girl can resist my charm. In the game universe, in the universe of old computers and obsolete programming languages, I totally rule. In the real world, not so much. I have my little corner, I am king of my own castle, but nothing much beyond that. Each day, I have to go out into the world where the point is proven again and again that I absolutely don't rule Jack. The dude is just far too nimble and quick for me to best. Little joke there. As far as for Jack, Jack Abbott is a cool dude who excels at pissing off Victor Newman, another cool dude due to his quiet rage issues.... Ah, but I'm sure very few fellow 1980s and 1990s "The Young And The Restless" fans are reading this. If so, then you do understand that, and you do know the Power Of Victor Newman. Don't let that devious man, Jack Abbott tell you otherwise. See how my ramblings are just a bit more rambly of late?