Jeezus did it for 12 loaves

I went looking for new apps for my iPhone tonight. I found lot's of cool looking apps, but was completely flabbergasted by the number of Bible apps. I guess in the future it won't be turn to Mark 21:12, but rather Scroll or Tap to Mark 21:12. I had no idea there were so many religious people out there. Or are there? Is is just there are that many people/companies that think they should cash in on the god cash cow?

Moo for Jesus everyone. Louder. I can't hear you. We got your King James, your New Revisionist, your Red Headed Step Child Bible. Bible trivia, Bible scripture of the day. On and on. Moooo. And that be $7.99 billed conveniently to your one-click account courtesy of once again, the Rain Forest in Brazil company. So nice that they've made shopping on the internet ever more easy and convenient for everyone to spend money they don't have.

So, all you bible bangers that were searching for that must have scripture fix and found my blog, Welcome to 'where have i been?' I'm not always sure where I've been or where I'm going. I'm pretty sure it doesn't involve Surrey with Fringe on top or the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. For that matter, it's probably not going to involve me getting religion from my phone either. But thank you for devoting so much time and energy to spreading the good word to those who are addicted to it's receipt.

Fried puritan

Boil him in Oil! We've all heard the phrase. Now watch the intro to this video. Imagine a man sized 'turkey' and a pot of oil big enough to fry him.



"You boil him, I'm not going to boil him." - Executioner 1
"You chicken, just go drop him in. The king is watching." Executioner 2
"Nope, I saw what happened to Fast Edgar, He went up in flame too. I'm not touching this." Executioner 1

RSS feeds killed blogland

I have four viewers on average a week. I know more people read this blog than that, but only four actually visit 'where have i been?' The answer? RSS. I'm guilty of it myself. I haven't been to a blog in ages. Why should I? I get neatly packed messages whenever those I blog stalk post. No longer do I have to put up with ill-chosen templates, white text on black backgrounds (which seriously screws with my eyes). I wonder how this affects the count whores out there. Do they weep at night because no-one loves them anymore? Do they lash out at loved ones due to fears of losing popularity? "You did this to me!" You all come back now, ya' hear?

Top 10 revealed

I was browsing the iTunes Movie selection today (which overall is pretty weak in my opinion). I noticed something interesting. Five of the top 10 movie rentals are Comedy. Filling out the rest are one romance (Sex and the City), two thrillers and two dramas. Nice that Horror movies have gotten a new softer nicer moniker with Thriller. Wow, that thriller scared the shite out of me! Yeah, just doesn't have the same ring to it. Although, with the Micahel Jackson connotation lurking int he back of my mind, perhaps Thriller is just the right word.

I digress from my point however. Five comedy films. Right now, people are struggling to smile. They have seen their 401ks go down the toilet. Their stocks hit what we all hope is rock bottom. The upcoming election has become a game of name calling and fraud. Both sides lying throuh their teeth and lilly white smiles trying to be more presidential. Their home values (the rock of retirement) have taken a fast slide toward an ocean that didn't exist two years ago. The words recession, depression, 1929, golden parachutes bang in your ears whenever you turn on the media.

Escapism is where it's at. Let me see something funny. Something that will make me laugh. Let me forget all the BS going on in the world markets and the starving family down the street. Let me forget that thousands of homes in New Orleans remain moldy washed out shells of their former selves, uninhabitable years after Katrina had her rampage. Give me 90 minutes of respite from the bombardment of bad tidings. Give me comedy. At least then, maybe I'll smile.

Answer me

I spent a good portion of two weeks writing a 2 paragraph document. This morning someone asked me to recite it from memory (not verbatim, but what it was). I couldn't do it. The idea panicked me like I just saw the car in front of me stop and I know I can't slow down and I'm gonna hit it. I'm sure you are familiar with that giant suck of air and the tensing of your muscles for impact. I haven't figured out a strategy to deal with that yet. People ask me questions I'm not ready for and I got nothing for them. Not even a quick quip from the funny vault. I just go vacant.

How do you tell people that think you are normal that you have a condition which makes you look and sound like an idiot sometimes? I've looked in BI (that's brain injury fi you don't follow well) books and found nothing. There are lots of general rules to help people cope, but not many specifics. Everyone has to learn their own method. I am just now realizing that I need to find one. I'm tired of feeling like a dumbass. I didn't do anything wrong, neither did anyone else. I just don't retain things or process things the same.

At this point, I also have to give kudos to me. Despite being wiped out from the meeting this morning, I went to another one. I was dragging. Physically and mentally. However, I whipped off a series of commentaries that I had to take a momentary pause. I almost looked behind me to see the puppet master who was pulling the strings. I don't recall what I said now, but it was there wide open today in the meeting. You win some, you lose some. I'm fond of saying "it is what it is". Today I wonder how right or wrong I am when I say that.

I'm not a big fan of posting other people's words here, but I want to record these from a book I'm about to finish.

I have been on the outside looking in, and on the inside looking out of the world of a brain-damaged person. I have found that internal and external factors must mesh smoothly in order for the brain-damaged person to reach his fullest potential and cope with his disabilities...
People close to me tell me that I'm easier to live with and work with, now that I'm not the highly self controlled person that I used to be. My emotions are more open and more accessible, partly due to the brain damage that precludes any storing up of emotions, and partly due to the maturational aspects of this whole life-threatening experience. I have come through the crisis of my life with more respect for myself and others.
-Fredrick Linge - clinical psychologist, suffered brain damage after a car accident. He has slowly recovered his facilities.

Going down?

Ever heard of a funeral home not accepting a families dearly departed because the 'house is full'? Can you imagine. Distraught, trying to understand the loss, how things will be in the future and suddenly, some clammy handed man with pasty white skin in a dark suit is telling you I'm sorry, we have no room for your deceased (I doubt they ever say dead). Where would you go? To whom would you turn? What if just too many people croak one fine sunny Saturday afternoon in the spring. The earth damp from a a morning sprinkle and the smell of freshness in the air. And your dead have no-where to lie. Or is it lay? I never could keep that rule straight in my head.

So, you've got a DB (police vernacular on TV for dead body) and no place to house 'em for a couple of days before you pay an huge fee to buy a casket no one will ever see again and a nice cement tomb for the casket to sit inside 'til grave robbers come in the grand year of our lord 3552 because they want to find out how people lived in the days before transporters and such. Oh, this one had much jewelry. He was surely a king. See the bling laying next to the bones? Hate to tell them it was some rapper gansta wanna be. Don't hate the playah, hate the game.

Back to our funeral home debacle. Where will uncle Howard stay 'til we can say last words and cry over his body? Perhaps the place down the street has room for him? Perhaps not. He died so unexpectedly. No time to to review candidates. No time to do the right thing. Ol' Howie forgot to plan. He didn't prepare and so when the end came on that fine sunny afternoon someone else was left to tend his affairs. How gauche. Really.

Don't forget the coffin shaped cookies. They are divine.

Eyes of a void

Do you see me? Does your gaze pass by in the same way it passes over your wife? The way you ignore your son because the next promotion is on the horizon? What must I do to be seen? Slip into the coat with no seams, with buckles just beyond reach? Eternal is the time I struggle in my padded cell trying to spew some fresh morsel of myself. Ripping my spawn too soon for life. Clawed viciously from the synapse of desire. To die bloodless on the floor. Shadows pass over the cyclops orbit encircled by dilated flesh. No sound issues forth. Impotent. No control. I drool and giggle in the darkness. Only I know. Only I. The eyes. They welcome me.

True lies

What lies do you tell yourself? Are they small? Are they ginormous?

He's not cheating on me.
The baby's really mine.
I was hungry, I needed the extra half sandwich.
I don't look fat in these pants.
She loves me for my mind.
It really is what you do with it.
I needed it more than the company.
No handicapped person needed that parking space.
I can stop whenever I want.
I know the Browns are going to win.
I don't kiss my boss's ass.
I respect myself.
I don't need anyone.
I'm the only one.
I'll look for a new job next week.
I'm not lonely.
I asked for it.
Change is good for change sake.

It's not really the size of the lie, but the weight it holds over you. Sometimes the tiniest of lies are the biggest things. What you keep from others for their sake. For their protection. Are they things you'd want kept from you?

Dain bramage

It's been 15 months since my accident. This is not the kind of moment I'm talking about in my last post, but it's time I talked about it.

Mild brain injury is categorized by whether or not you were unconscious when you hit your head. 15 minutes or less or intermittent unconsciousness classifies as Mild. You don't even have to go unconscious or need to go to the hospital to have a brain injury. You might drive away from an accident thinking you are fine. Later, you might experience symptoms that don't appear to have a direct connection to what happened to you.

I'm finally beginning to accept that my life has changed. That I'm no longer the person I was. This has some drawbacks and some benefits. Drawbacks include ringing ears, headaches, slower thought process, fine motor skills (such as typing) suffer to varying degrees. I notice that I'm less apt in judging the distance a car is down the road and whether I have time to make a turn. To the irritation of other motorists, I often wait for cars that I finally register were much further away or slower than I thought. I told someone the other day, "I'm not stupid, just slower." High level analysis of problems (and even simple math) are difficult for the first time in my life.

How could I possibly benefit from a brain injury? The easiest to point out is that I'm nicer. I'm less driven and that makes me more relaxed. I'm more tolerant of other people's behavior. This isn't something that I noticed until very recently. I also had it verified by people that I volunteered with in my community. People that have met me since the accident don't really notice anything wrong with me. The would classify me as normal. This tag alone is understandably something I have a hard time coping with.

I don't enjoy music as much. I used to never drive anywhere or sit at my desk without music playing. Music helps facilitate the thinking process, or did for me. Now, I often find myself completely turning off the stereo in my car in rush hour traffic. It's just too much noise for me to deal with. Or the volume knob is turned way down so i can barely hear the music. I recently downloaded a Celine Dion song. I told my cognitive/speech therapist and she said it was definitely my injury. lol It was a funny moment, but another illustration of new perspective at the same time.

I started downloading games on my iPhone to use for therapy. One is called Dactyl it's a simple game where there is a grid of bombs. One by one, the fuses are lit and you must tap them out. I've read people score up to 1000. I rarely score higher than 10. My high score is in the 30's. I gave the game to a friend and she scored 54 the 2nd time around. Then she taught me a visual trick to help me improve my play. The game is addictive, but it tires me out quickly. Another game I downloaded is plain old Solitaire. This game is not nearly as easy as I remember. These games are easy to play in short bursts of time and I'm looking for more. If you have a favorite, let me know.

This is not a comprehensive overview, but it's a start. And it's good for me to write it down.

Hush. Now. I can't believe.

Our lives are comprised of many moments. Some memorable for pain. Some for tears. Some for joy. Some for celebration. Other moments pass us by before we can even acknowledge that something happened to us. That we saw something that mattered. Something impacted us. It reached into our very core and changed us as a person. From that moment on, we lived a different life than we could have imagined or perhaps even dreamed. Cinematic moments on the big screen are part of our lives. Often, we don't even know those moments are there. It could be months or years before we finally realize the moment occurred. Change irreversible. Incredible. Our lives touched by some force beyond reckoning.

Do you know those moments? Are they too private to share? Too random? Perhaps too odd? Would they make sense to another being? Can you transfer the feeling to another? Have you ever tried? We spend ours lives seeking fulfillment and happiness in others. We spend far too little time focusing those efforts on ourselves. Bringing our insides into the open. Caressing our own souls and freeing them to fly with the winds. Those improbable, impossible moments make our true character. The one we are afraid to show. The one that hides, caged into a reality bound by false pretense. Beaten and hammered, into an object of beauty or an object of ugly.

Do you harbor those moments in your mind as a shield against when times are grey? Wouldn't they spread more light if they were planted and nurtured with others. Growing in new tangents. New directions for others to breathe full of new life.