So much of a rant I can't even think of a title

I woke up this afternoon finding out it was not only National Coffee Day but to a post on facebook of good reads, books that have been banned. To solve the whole burning books and banning books problem, maybe go to a lesser evil. In the nineties there were those little stickers on music (cds at the time) saying explicit lyrics. Why not put those on books then asked for an id.
One of the books on this list was Tropic of cancer by Henry Miller. I read that book and I thought that was how wirters are suppose to be. I have read and skimmed that book so many times it no longer has a cover.
My self destructive phase was probably influenced by alot of things like BUckowski. I found myself beginning the night with a twelve pack of pbr sitting infront of a computer and writing. I was trying to be like these guys like so many other young Americans. I thought as delusionary as it sounds I was becoming like them. Writing was my love (probably still is) and without it I was an amputee.
Now I feel like I don't want to be like these guys. Drunken writers are a dime a dozen. I ask you this with all the flavored vodkas around and sweet drinks what kind of writers are we creating now? I sometimes get stares when I order a shot of Jack Daniels black lable. It almost seems like it isn't socially accepted anymore. I order a shot once in a blue moon and I don't make the face. I just enjoy the burning down my throat.
Where I go to drink I see buff guys drinking fruity shooters, and they are all about it. I laugh to myself because even though they could probably kick my butt they are drinking girlie drinks. Atleast when I was on the track of being just another drunk that was what I learned.
If Henry Miller walked into a bar nowadays not to mention he would still be waiting in line to go into the club from last weekend he would say something. Or maybe he would realize that it is what girls drink and he would try to buy as many sweet shots his royalties check can handle. Do you think the average girl would see the brillance of MIller's mind or see him as a creep? I figure a creep. He would hate Henrico County.
On to Bukowski. I've been going to this particular place for awhile, and when you do that you start seeing the same faces. I can think of two women Bukowski would go for. They even refer to themselves as drunks and they are unemployed. One had modeling agency in California, and said she could make me a star. A star of what I wonder. I figure Bukowski would charm their socks off of both of them. I have met them once and they have fogotten me ever since. This summs up meeting drunks at a bar. You might have a great conversation with them but you see them again and they will forget you, unless you remind them you bought them a drink. If you do that and they remember you chances are they will just want another free drink.
Artist, all of them, do not have to be alcholics or junkies. If your heros are dead raise you coffee mug and toast to the greats.

Glory that Last

Imagine a long drunken night that has led you to 7-11 to get some chips and a soda. Maybe drinking so much makes you hungry. You are adding more calories to that beer gut that you curse when you get out of the shower or maybe you joke and call it your speed bump for sex. Young men still howl. There limbidos are jumping up down in antcipation like a boxer just before a heavy weight championship. It is there in our late teens and into our twenties. The search for glory and good times.
However, you remember that clash song Death or Glory. You remember that first line it goes something like this... Every cheap hood makes a bargain with the world, ends up making payments on a sofa or a girl. That means we start out thinking we can take on the world. It most cases we lose or have several failed attempts. The wrong way is more apealing and it is easy or takes less effort then the right way.
Some of you who have gone through those years may see yourself as damaged. Maybe you have some regret or a mountain of regret.
When our crazy years are over what do we have to show for it. Maybe a story to tell.
I've been to places where I have seen men in their fifties or even sixties trying to pick up young ladies. Maybe guys have a little bit more trouble growing up then women.
Glory, I treated it as if it was my job. It can leave you lonely because the rest of your friends find a woman or they have kids that make them think or love something greater then themselves. That Glory doen't last.
What Glory last? Having a personal relationship with Jesus. As younger man I was probably turned off by the same things that turn you off now. I beleive that even went I went astray for my pursuit of Man's Glory Jesus never left me. He was protecting me. Maybe you can think back to a situation where that you just barely escaped or maybe you got out of the car the right time.
I was insulting Jesus and his followers. Yet I was still curious. His glory is like Thankgsgiving dinner or lunch. He will keep you full.
I guess this writing was inspired by an area 10 sermon. It was talking about kids and teenagers. When I was that age I wonder if I would have listened instead of taking as many detours as I have. Maybe the right way seemed to hard. Maybe the christians in my life at the time seemed perfect and I knew I was so far from it. What an off view.
I have just recently recieved some success. I am being published in an academic journal that belongs to Oxford University as in Londan. This is after I prayed several times (probably for me more then anything else) that I wanted to put my writing in God's hands. THis is very hard for me to do. Glory... Put your heart and soul on the page and give it to Jesus. Something will happen. I was long over due for publication. In conclusion, find the right Glory.

Putting things into persepective

Maybe every parent at one time or another let's their child go out to succeed or fail. One case of this when their child maybe starts school rather it is pre-k or college. As much as a parent would like to hold their child's hand during the whole day. Parents know they can't do that. But when that child comes home they will be spoiled with a cookie or a hug.
To look at an extreme When Jesus was nailed to the cross, he cried out,"MY God, My God, why have you forsaken me!" God turned his back on his son.
This cry should put things into persepective. Our problems are so small considering what Jesus went through on the cross. Are you really complaining that much about not finding a parking spot? You may lost your job and you had to experience a kind of downsizing of your lifestyle so to speak. YOu still have roof over your head. Maybe you are asking God why did you give this weakness or disablity to me. Imagine being not only rejected but being nailed to a cross.
When Jesus ascended to heaven who do you think was staring out the front door for his son to come home. Do you think they shared a bottle of wine? MAybe they had a huge feast. Sometimes all it takes is the look in our father's or mother's eyes to make us feel welcome to give that feeling of being home.

The dragon Team-finding motivation

On a weekday about 6am to 6:30am we would be in formation for pt. THis was after our cigarettes. People who had quit started back up again because so many people smoked and smokers got breaks.
During P.T. we would stretch and prepare to go on our run which varied in length. Everyday that I was there I had to search for the strength because of my foot problem. The NCO's were tired of me complaining about it. An inspiring officer told me they couldn't take away sick call which they had forcing me to take the pain.
Some of the faces you would see in formation was C. C. had asked me if I wanted to sell marajuana with him and another guy. I asked him if he needed more money.He said no and then He said he didn't have an answer on why he wanted to sell. He also said that the platoon sergeant was involved which was either a lie or it just proves that even when your not at war you still need to dull your senses. Now I figure all C. needed was a pat on the back. He needed someone to not only motivate him but to tell him he was doing a good job.
Z. would tell you he was led by Jesus to join the army. He had a devotion everyday on his own. His superiors wanted him to be a sergent but he wanted to get out of the army.
Rumor had it, he was found with a girl in his room. Another soldier on our team ratted him out and the first sergeant walked in on him. He was forced to go to some NCO school. He said all he learned was how to wax a floor. He was proud of that fact.
I will mention the girl later.
M. I am not so sure why he joined. Maybe it was the signing bonus. He had a wife and a son. I thought this was pretty cool, his son was named Lucas as in the Cory haim movie. He talked about the movie all the time. I had seen it but I didn't remember it line for line like he could.
Then there was G. He told someone when he first showed up that he loved the army and he could see himself doing his twenty. After that statement I thought he was a kiss ass and I can't say that I liked him too much. We were unfortunately roomates. I did my best to be pleasant.
C., M. G., and I were going through in processing. In proccess because we had just graduated basic training and during our training in combat arms there was no women anywhere. There were finally women in our lives or kind of.
One woman was helping us get our gear. She had dark hair tanned skin and blue eyes. I forgot her name. G. made her laugh, and after we left with our gear he went back and got her phone number.
After in processing we were free to go back to our rooms. G. talked about the girl. I told him I saw a ring on her finger. At the time I forgot which finger was the right finger all I knew is that I saw a ring. This didn't stop him.
One night I had just gotten back from the field which I enjoyed. I would have rathered been in the field then be in the barracks or go through the day to day at Fort Irwin. Plus I don't know what it was but I enjoyed saluting high ranking officers. Most of the other privates were scared. I was impressed. How could they stay so long in the amry? HOw smart were they really? I wasn't smart enough to be an officer.
Anyway I got back from the field and I was very tired. I didn't even put my stuff away instead I crashed on my single sized bed as G. was trying to entertain the girl he had met during in processing. Soldiers didn't have a curfew for the most part but women could not be in the room after a certain time. I knew this G. knew this and yet I heard kissing. It sounded terrible to me. I put on MIles, and then turned it off because I thought I might have been helping the mood.
I said several times for them to quit. I hated being that guy but I was receiving mental pictures of the beer gutted happy go lucky G. kissing and doing god knows what else.
He eventaully came over and slapped me in the face. This was the same guy who would be close to tears during the chaplain service during basic training.
She left and he went running after her still wanting to get some. Suddenly I heard the section segerant's voice. I thought he would deal with it. In plane sight was G. and a girl after closing time so to speak. I was up in my bed with my leg on the floor ready to spring when he reentered the room. I wanted to get even. Instead the girl brought G. back to her house.
It took me awhile to go back to sleep after that. I debated rather or not I should talk to the section sergeant. I wondered what was going to happen with G. I wondered if I would be able to contain myself during formation tomorrow and not beat him to a pulp. I would have to contain myself alot in my short army life.
After the painful run G and I went back to the room. The run helped but I was still in pain my feet anyway.
I was sitting on my bed when he threw me a purple bag that read Crown Royal. I figured he drank the whole bottle or shared it with his little girlfriend.
Then this is kind of funny. He told me they broke up and then he gave me a slip of a ripped off piece of paper.
"What's this?" I asked.
He said her name an said she wanted me to call her. He told me she liked me more then him. Ha. I don't think G. got laid again for the time I was there.
I didn't call her for the shear fact she was with G. He disgust me. She had been tainted and I figured I would think of him kissing and doing God knows what else if I ever got with her.
She was infact married so I was right. I later learned alot of married army couples swap espeically when one was in the field or at war.
G. was never punished but he complained about me so much I later had to move out. He would pick the littlest thing.
I started hating the section segerant a little each time something liked that happened.
The section sergeant had a wandering eye. You remember the Edgar Allen Poe story about the mad man and the eye. That eye would distract me so much when he would be talking to me or yelling. I would think How can he aim his M-16 with an eye like that? or my eyes would just follow it where ever it went, and it did go all over the place.
Back to the girl that Z. may have or may have not slept with. She was pregnant.
Let me explain myself. In the army at a duty station you have to dig down deep to find motivation like any other job. That motiation could be a beer in the fridge, a strong cup of coffee, a sun rise, your favorite song. I was knew to the mojave desert, I hadn't been there for very long but I had been running out of ideas on how to motivate myself. I was in a deep dark depression. The beer alone wasn't cutting it.
One Friday night I went to a bar with M. She was sitting at a pub table drinking water. The ceiling light was shining on her as if it was a miracle- a miracle in one. There was of course the miracle of birth and the miracle of starting fresh a new life. She had blue eyes and blonde hair. She said repeatedly how she wished she could drink. I couldn't keep my eyes off of her. As usual women might or might not understand what motivated a guy.I couldn't explain myself then and I am doing a poor job now. She was sitting under the artifiacl light of the bar and I told her several times that I thought she looked great even though I had never seen her before. A new life a clean slate going through the trial and love with the minor setbacks. I could take the pain after that. I figured it was just a part of life.
The president has asked us to serve. Some of you are at that age where you probably aren't sure what you are going to do. The army in many ways is a sink or swim life style. My so called army brothers would say I sank. My family would say there were under lining factors. Either way as a young man I figured I was learning how to mix with people who were totally different then I was.There are similarities in adult straight out of college learn about the real world out of college. I urge you all to celebrate life and celebrate our differences. We are not robots but are fully loaded souls some with families some without that live on to a goal even if it just the weekend.

The Woman in the Wheelchair

The Woman in a Wheelchair

Joe lived alone with his disability and the voices in his head. He thanked God often for not keeping him in a mental hospital or in assistant living place. Joe did his own grocery shopping; he showered and shaved, and was content in living by himself.
Joe figured something was going on about a month before, because of the changes to his apartment complex. The maintenance crew made a handicap parking space, before there wasn’t one. There was also a ramp coming from a first floor apartment. Joe figured it must be for a wheelchair.
Then one day there was in fact a woman in a wheel chair. Joe thought it was awesome that she could drive in her very own van. He couldn’t figure out how she did it though.
That same week Joe saw her going up a ramp in the parking lot. The ramp, in the parking lot, went up to the sidewalk.
Joe was on his balcony overlooking this so he yelled down.
“Need some help?!”
“No!” The woman in the wheelchair yelled. She still seemed irritated trying to go up the steep ramp.
Joe decided if she ever needed help, she would ask. He also decided he would give her all the room she needs.
The woman in the wheelchair, Joe thought, hired a helper. He was always on his cell phone, Joe thought, when he should be helping his client. Joe wondered if over use of a cell phone was a handicap. It clogged you judgment like alcohol.
The woman in the wheel chair deserved respect. When she drove back from where ever she went, she would wait in her own parking space, and honk her horn at her helper to come outside. Joe didn’t like her helper. Joe would often give him mean stares.
On a trip back from the grocery store, Joe was bringing in his groceries. The helper was just then arriving.
Joe stopped what he was doing to give the helper what he called his advice that wouldn’t cost the helper a nickel.
“Hey!” Joe slightly yelled,” I live in G and I am tired of your client having to wait for you.”
The helper, of course was on his cell phone, and he was slightly startled by Joe’s actions.
“I’ll call you back.” The helper said to the voice on the other end of the phone.
“What are you talking about, sir?” The helper asked. Although he wasn’t good at his job he was still trained.
“You should be waiting for her at her parking space. I don’t care if it is raining or snowing, you should be outside waiting.”
“I don’t understand what you are talking about, sir, but I get the feeling you are telling me how to do my job.” The helper sneered.
“What is more important,” Joe asked, “your job or your cell phone?”
“Sir, don’t tell me how to do my job.”
Joe was bigger and stronger then the helper so it was easy for him to grab the cell phone and throw it.
“What’s up? What’s up?” The helper shouted.
“I am disabled too, and as far as I am concerned we out number you 2 to 1. She should run over you with her wheel chair.”
After that Joe smiled and then said. “Have a nice day.”
Joe went back to his groceries. The helper ran to his cell phone which was in the grass.
Later in the day it started raining, a light sprinkle. The woman in the wheelchair parked in her space, then started honking her horn. The helper was nowhere to be seen.
Joe went down to knock on her window. The window slid down after the woman noticed Joe wanting to speak.
“Keep in mind you are the boss of your helper. He should be out here helping you.”
The woman in the wheel chair locked on Joe’s eyes, which she found out in the past was a good judge of character.
After noticing Joes’ shaken tremors in his hand, the woman figures something was wrong.
“Are you disabled?” She asked.
“Yes,” Joe answered, “I stay in G.”
“At least you can walk.” She told Joe.
“At least you can think right.” Joe told her with a smile on his face. However he didn't know which was worse.
The helper finally came out. Noticing Joe, he walked slower.
Joe walked back to his apartment as he whispered, “We out number you.”
Joe observed the helper helping the woman in the wheelchair. The helper felt Joe’s stares in his back.
The next day at about the same time, Joe noticed a stranger waiting outside.
The woman in the wheelchair came back in her van. The stranger stepped up with a smile on his face.
Joe was on his balcony.
The woman went down her lift smiling.
The stranger raised his voice.
“How ya doing boss?”
“Sometimes it’s hard being a greeter.” The woman answered.
Joe smiled as the new stranger pushed the woman in the wheel chair to her apartment on the first floor.

Buy When we Were Young by Jason Jepson

Buy the book at itunes for your iphone, ipad, and ipod touch. You can by it on your kindle at amazon.com, or for your nook at Barnes and NOble. You can still get it at google books or android market. Feel free to browse the stores read the review at amazon. Like the book on facebook.

Old Law to new law

Today I was thinking selfishly I was looking for verses to help my own gain. I of course am not a bible jock. I usually look in the index, and I have mentioned my memory how I can't remember verses. I actually thought that God was refusing to lead me to find comfort for just me. However, he was infact leading me to this verse in Hebrews 10:1-
It states The old system in the law of moses was only a shadow of the things to come, not the reality of the good things Christ have done for us.
In short they will not stone you if you commit adultery. They not going to cut your hands off if you steal. It is not an eye for an eye and tooth for a tooth. Jesus was only the untimate sacrafice but the great example to live by. There is effidence that he would talk to anybody.
I think of the republican party some of them live by old law or politcians in general who seem to have faith won't listen or make the proper decisions to help the weak or even the wretch.
Some of you may have a problem with the old testament. You should still read but I believe strongly that we should live by Jesus, the son of God's teachings and action. He accepts everyone.

An open letter to Richmond

Dear Richmond,
Let the spirit of Dizzy and the bird guide my spirit. The brass runs true of Richmond tonight beside the slip ups.
I was literary under the weather by two rejections I got by Oxford University Press. Two writings I cared deeply about came to this at mojos. Some what depressed I bought a beer for a man that seemed to deserve a beer when all he wanted was something to eat. We talked football and basics but he might have needed a friend as much as me. He made an unusual sound gritting his teeth. Maybe I made him nervous by how nice I was. He evntaully left after my Philly cheese steak.
I was alone again when as academia set beside me with his girl for the night. He was very inteligent and seem to be stressed out about graduate school. He made the statement that college was easy and graduate school was how college was back in the 40's and 50's. This made me further depressed because I just have a comunity college degree. I left with my attention falling on a college football game. TCU and Baylor were playing.
I switched from whiskey to tall boys of the champange of beers. Watery indugence made me smile and snickle to myself as a bench clearing brawl broke out during the college football game.
I later bummed cigarates and drank more beer. Broke the city can break you, but with funds you find yourself enjoying the cools late summer nights.
Then on the way back after epic converations Paraham was lit up in blue by the pd. State and local were among us. I drove through staying in line and following the traffic rules.
I did in fact buy some cigarattes at the local 7-11 that I will prbably throw away in time. Thank you Jesus for keeping me save when my trade was rejecting me. I feel like this was my night, but next time I will not cut it so close. It is taxis from now on.

political freewrite

If the shadows could only speak
the angles turn their heads
in the name of freewill
HUrricane winds
coming back again
blow you over
like the tattoo dream
who doesn't notice them anymore
while the westend hates political correctness
and beleives in trickle down economics
soldiers think it is a rich man war
Doubt in my govenment but not my God
civilians maybe seen as deserters
yet still glued to left media to the right
dancing a waltz by two partners who don't know the steps
does our politcs pick us like a domesticated pet?
or do we pick our politics like a house with two car garage
Should we swap places? The rich and poor
Should the constitution that was written by rich white guys who owned slaves be questioned?
They may have owned slaves but they were willing to give their fortune up or even die for an idea of their own country
The voiceless aren't represented
educated or not
Didn't even mention unemployment

Spoil yourselves and spend

Today I decided to set sail for Kroger on the sea of asfalt across the street from my sea chanty. I made my list of goodies and decided to try something new. Never shop when your hungry.
Kroger is beefin' up the store to make it more like the new one out in short pump.
I went straight over to the meets the luncheon meet because I figure I would have a sandwich for dinner. I am a virgin to this kind of accomadation. I ordered honey turkey and bourban ham. I found a slight spring in my step from the meets they offer in their display case.
A man who was waiting on me said, "I usually work in the back."
I told him this was my first time too.
They sliced my meet and even asked if the thickness was right. It looked delicous.
They sliced a pound for each and gave me the meet and I contiued my shopping experience. I had a list which I strayed a little away from when I picked up some chocalte chip cookies. I figured I deserved desert in this escursion.
If you don't share my sentiment about freshly sliced meet from the store, then maybe you should buy yourself a cigar.
I got all the things on my list and went to check out. I didn't even wait that long.
The outlook of the store was different but a kindergardener could probably figure it out. I paid with my debit.
After my successful trip to the store I went home.
So spoil yourselves with something. The more you spend the better off the country is which means the better off we are. Don't be affraid to think simple rather it be a bottle of descent wine, a good cigar, chocalate ship cookies. The week is almost over, start thinking about the weekend.