I was once almost overwhelmingly happy, you know? Everything was green, growing and brand new. Silences were few and far between. She was with the morning, my wake-up call, and I, her goodnight lullaby. Never yet always there. I got to be quite dependent on a single voice. It was almost sometimes, but never too much, for there can never be too much of a wonderful thing. I can't remember where or how or why I found myself here instead. How many citizens of Bartertown remember the world from before? It would look like a scene from Beyond Thunderdome, a lone figure walking, a mere speck before the camera pans in closer. A survivor, a remaining vestige of a living being. On a desolate plain beyond the mountains, the sand is constantly drifting, the little vegetation that grows swaying in the wind, beyond the constantly drifting dunes. The days are brutal, and the nights are cold and lonely. If any cadet is looking for space, they will find more than they ever wanted, vast and empty, silent except for a relentless wind. Welcome to Outer Friendzonia. Just call me Genghis Wie. Mirages of memory are everywhere. Absence here is a physical manifestation. This desert can twist a mind and drain a soul in many a way. The irony is knowing where to find water while also knowing that certain thirsts can never be quenched. I'm with Anakin on this one: I hate sand, too. Ah, but at least Padme loved him back. Skywalker had a lot of freaking problems, but unrequited love wasn't one of them. At least not with Padme. The council? maybe. But his angel loved him back. Anyway, note to self, my earthly angel's birthday is precisely one week from today. So I need to order her presents tonight. As I said before, I am under no illusion that my little gifts will woo her into loving me. Although, wouldn't it be nice? But, still, as I said before, this is one of the few chances I get to express my feelings without getting myself into trouble. When love has nowhere to go, it just hurts the one who loves. At least with this, I can show she's special to me, even while forever in the Mongolian Friend Zone. Genghis Khan was able to break out of it. Sadly, my many attempts have failed. Therefore, a small expression of love and affection is all I can manage. Bummer, dude, but I gotta do what I've gotta do. And enough dwelling on this. Clean cup move down. A long time ago, in a galaxy far away, I drank sodas all day every day. These days, however, I must say that in most situations on a hot day, there is nothing quite as refreshingly delicious as pure cold water. My younger self would never understand, but it's so very true. Now, I did say in most situations. There are times when an extremely cold beer is quite a heavenly experience. Or better yet, a nice Miami Vice on ice. And I do love my sodas still. Just not all day every day. I suppose we change, don't we? Despite it being mourn day all over again, it was quite a beautiful morning. There is a spot on the way to my job where the sunrise is often exceptionally beautiful. The thought always enters my mind to pull over and take some awesome pictures. But every single time, I keep going and say, "Maybe Someday." Story of my life, ladies and gentlemen, maybe someday, maybe never. It was particularly beautiful this morning, and maybe I particularly regret not stopping. Okay, Universe, I had a great 4th with most everything going to plan. I built a homemade grill out of cinder blocks and an old rack and had an awesome cookout worthy of the Murphy's, without the fire being too big, or Bunny falling down the steps. Still, it was my house, mofos, and I work hard to keep the place beautiful. This past week, however, while nowhere close to the insanity of waking up with the ex-wife standing over my bed as happened exactly ten years ago, had it's insane moments, too. Some drunk chic driving through my yard, some crackhead walking up in my house, and a fat hippo on a 4-wheeler dare telling me how to drive. So, Universe, can we make this week just a bit less exciting? Thanks. Clean cup move down. Here's a random internet quote about a man expecting honey but was robbed for his money: "He must have been very drunk to follow this girl with a Klingon forehead, no eyebrows, and that Dollar tree wig."My Response: "A true Klingon warrior must be prepared for battle at all times, no matter how much Bloodwine or Romulan Ale he has consumed! If a warrior can't fight when drunk as a targ, he dishonors the empire!" RAWRRR! Most Klingon warriors live to fight and love the fight. But never underestimate a reluctant human who would rather not. The movies and real life do have one thing in common. The most dangerous and the most devastating warriors are the ones who didn't want to fight in the first place but were forced into it. Just because they wanted peace does not mean they can't handle war. There are some who have never learned this very important lesson until it's too late, far too late. If I have to be a teacher, it will be an unforgettable lesson. What the hell has it been about this past week? Somebody has obviously turned up the volume on the insanity! As they say, Whiskey Tango Foxtrot! Besides that hippo on a four-wheeler, and that shirtless nutcase that walked up in my house. And then that crazy woman in her car who thought my field and backyard were a part of the road. How high do you have to be? I repeat, Whiskey Tango Foxtrot. Do you copy, Universe? Do you read me, Universe? This is Cadet Cosmic Wie, twenty fiver twenty five, over? If the rafio don'twork, I'll send a scroll: "WOE BE TO HE THAT ENTERETH MY DOMAIN" --Cosmic The Wie, King And Space Cadet Emperor. Aside from the name change, this is the very first scroll you find in an iD Software classic, Catacomb 3D: The Abyss. Now, there are two places I would love to print out and post in big letters that even idiots can understand: "WOE BE TO HE THAT ENTERETH MY DOMAIN". The first is my area at work, where nobody but me and maybe my supervisor should be at least without a heads up. "Who are these assholes?" is probably a question I should not be asking aloud. So at least let me know those flarkers are on the way, and let me remind you I charge extra for an audience. Woe Be To Them! I'd love to print this out and put it in my work area, but.... (1.) It's not quite a labyrinth like it is in that game. (2.) I am sadly not the Goblin King of David Bowie magnetism. (3.) Management might frown upon me doing that. Therefore, I'll just put it here instead. The second place I'd love to post a printout is right by the POSTED sign in front of my house. Boy, oh boy, I'll tell you whut, some weirdo walking up in my house quite uninvited with no damn permission ain't cool at all. (Maybe I should install CRACK VISION (tm) on the posted sign as well) Or Rifle site vision? Man, what the hell has been going on this week? Random craziness has been fraying my nerves of late. It has been just a bit much. I mean, I had just settled down enough for an early evening nap when this happened. Now, I'm all riled up again! Damn. Just can't catch a break, man. Home is supposed to be a refuge. And it's damn sure not a public place. As Eddie Murphy's Pops, Vernon once said, "It's my house, motherfuckah!" Get the fuck out and don't bring your bigfoot ass into my home. I guess there are some not yet acquainted with the intricacies of my neighborhood. You see, Mister Rogers does not live here. And these idiots are sure treading dangerous ground 'round these parts. To become a holy man there are two places you can go. The Vatican or on private property around here. Remember Old Man Peabody from "Back to The Future"? Yes, kinda like that. Okay, You Pine Killin' Mutating Sons O Bitches, How about a clean cup move down? Cosmic Dreamland Theater Presents: Weird dream time: I rescued my angel in a very stereotypical way. I found her all tangled in this thick yellow rope. According to her, she had somehow slipped and fell into that situation with no super villain involved. Although it sure looked to me as she had been deliberately tied up. So with those dull scissors of mine, I set her free, and she was gone so fast it was almost like magic. Not, Sorry, I've got to go. Not, Thank you for saving me, Great Cosmic Wie. No quick hug. No quick kiss on the cheek. Just poof and gone. As per the recurring nature of my dreams, my workplace was a labyrinth worthy of David Bowie. So after she disappeared, I just wandered and wondered. Suddenly, along comes my boss, Gary. Not my current boss, but a good man I worked for more than a decade ago. A good man who died in 2015. But it seems I was working for him again. He said, come with me, Wie, I've got to run an errand. We went to this parking lot beside this Blockbuster style video rental place. He said, " I've got to go across the street." When I started to follow him he said, "Just hang out here, I'll be back in a bit..." "Hey why don't you pick out a movie while I'm gone?" Then he disappeared into the traffic. I thought, what the hell. I might as well see what they have at Blockbuster. I was highly disappointed. Not the first VHS tape. All they had was crappy PlayStation games. Something I have no interest in, yet they somehow pressured me into renting one anyway. So I'm back in that darkened parking lot, looking for Gary when I realized I wasn't still holding that shitty PlayStation game in my hands anymore. Instant panic attack. Damn it! Why did I rent it in the first place? I don't even own a console! So, I looked and looked and looked. I found it in a crappy Wally World bag, just lying by the curb. But after I picked it up, all became dark and I couldn't move. Maybe I passed out? Anyway, when I come to, there were these two FBI type guys flanking me and accusing my angel of drugging my drinks and performing witchcraft on me. It was like a courtroom and she was on trial. Or was it a police interrogation room? They showed me a picture of myself and my angel sharing a blue drink. But she was drinking from the same glass as me, so their case really didn't make any sense to me. And that was when I woke up. Go figure. Go fish. I have no idea. It's a fact: Once certain ACME rocket powered roller skates are ignited, there is often no going back. Ask any Coyote, and he'll hold up a sign telling you the same. Why me? Some days, I am down with the flow that flows with harmony, reason, and rhyme. But other days, it's a damn conspiracy against me, and even my own damn body is in on it. It all started with an ill-timed sneeze, continued with people crowding in too close, both behind and not behind the wheels of vehicles. It was all I could do to fake a calm, collected, polite exterior when I had a strong urge to flip out, freak out, and curse out. Humans can be so damn unbearable sometimes! Look, when my nerves are playing Eddie Van Halen guitar solos on my strings, I need some damn breathing room! Don't crowd me! Space, baby, space! Then maybe my heart can slow, and maybe my nerves can settle. But that'll never happen if I am forced to breathe your air. I never choose these things. They just happen. Once they do, it's a wave I've got to ride whether I want to or not. It ain't no fun, I'll tell ya whut. I would much rather not. But once that particular ACME rocket is launched, there really is no going back. Give me time and space. Give me spacetime. And I promise I'll be back to my old abnormal self. Though that two-bit baby smoocher has really gotten on my bad side. Somebody's gotta pay for cheating me out of my sanity, and he's elected. The funny thing about being angry at your own body is that the only one you can properly direct your rage to is yourself. Even though it wasn't exactly yourself. It's bad enough when the universe is working against you. When your own damn body joins in on the wrong side of that fight, well, this is bullshit. Shouldn't we be on the same team? I hate being trolled by my own damn body. Don't I have enough problems already? Work with me and not against me. Geesh. What the hell, man? Stop it already! Is there a part of myself that wants me to fail? Because I want to succeed more than ever. It has been a long time, a rough time... The 2020s have sucked most egregiously.. So, yeah, I want to win for once in my life. I am so tired of losing people, sanity, dignity, and damn near everything but what I actually want to lose. The negative stuff that I actually want to go away tends to stick around instead. Negative energy and bad luck have their thumb on the scale, and I am so sick of that being a factor. Why don't you go away and torment somebody else? Don't you get bored messing with me all the time? Find another pigeon and get your own Grey Poupon. Leave me out of it, man. Great God, I'm so tired of this. Sometimes, you just can't win. How I wish human interaction (except for with my favorite people) was optional. Hu monz get on my freaking nerves. Hell, I'm a human, and I get on my own damn nerves. I have wished many times on this life that I was a robot. Doomworld often thinks I am. Cloudflare sucks!!! No, I am not a flarking robot! Ah, but I sometimes wish I were. What good are all these emotions when they are basically homeless with nowhere to go? I'd rather be playing network Doom with Cyberdyne Systems Model 101. Get to the teleporter! Do it now! (Wrong armhold musclehuggah). You know? There's a part of me with a wild idea as to what could make me feel better. Then there's the rest of me that could never agree. That war was will be inside myself forever. Actually, I am not honestly sure just how I would feel. One intervention could overshadow everything. One intervention that I know in my heart shall never happen. Maybe it's good. I'm not so great at finding things, depending on which harmonic, which aspect you ask. The movies and real life do have one thing in common. The most dangerous and the most devastating warriors are the ones who didn't want to fight in the first place, but were forced into it. Just because they wanted peace, does not mean they can't handle war. It's quite simple. Leave me alone and I will leave you alone. Especially when I am in my own home, the home of my father, the land of my grandfather, a place where two generations of hard work, blood and sweat has gone into, Of which I of the third am doing my best to maintain and continue that work. Out in the world I will accept my place. But, here, my place is on the throne, for I am King. Not of forever, but it's my turn. And here, you leave me alone. Now, in the past week I have had three incursions that are making me wonder if I shouldn't prepare my army for a defensive preemptive strike to remind some mothatruckers just who owns this and just who is the flarking King. I'm a nice person. I can be quite welcoming when things are done the right way. But even the nicest lion will bite a flarking head off when poked too many times. My rule is simple. If you can't read the boldly printed POSTED sign, or if you blatantly disobey it, well.... How good at you at dodging bullets? I want peace, but war is not beyond my capability. Like the old man in Redneck Rampage said, "Get off my lan!" Or if you prefer, as the overall bearded guy said in the Cuss-Pak, "Hey mothafucker!, BOOM!!!!" At least I won't say what the old man said in that same cuss pack. Speaking of Redneck Rampage, I wish the demos in that game would sync better. I have only made two successful demos, J Clucks and The Nuthouse. In all the others, some enemies that died in the playthrough lived in the playback to blast an unsuspecting me that already blasted.. But apparently didn't blast them. I could see if it were a different version of the game. But not only was this the same version, it was the exact same copy that recorded the damn demos. Yet Bubba and the old man seem to be Immortal murder machines. I guess when he said in the cuss pack that he was gonna flark me, he must meant he was gonna flark my demos. Thanks a lot, old man! Another dream involving my angel. In this one, she had fallen ill and I had to take care of her until she got better. Meanwhile this was a part of the recurring series, Look Ma, I Accidentally joined the army. But, this time I graduated and got promoted, all while healing my angel. I have to say these dreams of late have been both a bit too intense and a bit too insane, even for me. Maybe a reflection of the intense insanity of my waking life of late. At least I had a great fourth. It's good to have a good July memory. A bad one is coming up on the 21st, the second anniversary of my father's death. I remain in disbelief over how long ago (and how recent) that terrible day was. Life goes on as does the responsibilities he once saw to and that I must now see to. As I tell my sons, it's merely my turn. Someday they will have to take this over. Such is the circle of life, for lions and humans alike. I hope I have a lot of decent years left in me. I would say I wish I knew how long, but the only way one can know is the ones who get the bad news that they don't have long at all. Therefore it's probably best to not know at all. And so this day goes on... Blessed is he who is slow to anger, blessed is he, blessed is he.. Again and again I repeat the mantra, not much on religion, but these are among the wisest words in the Bible. Blessed is he who is slow to anger... I know that. I have seen it. I have experienced it. But still, when you sit on 30 minutes worth if orders all damn morning and drop them on me right at my lunchtime, it's going to piss me off something major, and I'll be cursing you for everything that you are for the entire duration of my being deprived of my food. This is Caveman tendencies you're messing with, getting between me and my food. You're lucky I didn't bite or maul, ya. Roar!!! Humans and lions do have a few things in common. Roar, baby, roar! Put em up, put em up! I'll fichtya both togeddah if you want! A woof! A Woof! Mufasa, Tsubasa, Que passa. It's the art of roar. Speaking of roaring (or ranting) I think the online rhetoric is getting worse. There are a lot of half truths and outright lies designed to fan the flames of hatred on all sides of any fence. It goes without saying that verifying everything you read or hear before forming an opinion is a wise thing to do. And wisdom seems so hard to come by these days. So ask: Are they informing me or are they trying to manipulate me? I know I am not a people person. But even someone like me can see beautiful people on all sides of every dividing line, and so are the beautiful souls that take longer to know. Please don't let all the ugliness out there destroy your own beauty..... Or your kindness. Love, love, love, as the Beatles sang. Now I am not saying you should just stand there and catch hell you don't deserve. Defend yourself and give it right back when you have to. As I said, to love peace does not mean you can't handle war like a pro, like a general gathered in the masses. But hey, give peace a chance. And tell me the number of songs I just referenced.
Dear Universe, If you have become one, please be out there.
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