e·piph·a·ny [i-pif-uh-nee] –noun, plural -nies. 1. a Christian festival, observed on January 6, commemorating the manifestation of Christ to the gentiles in the persons of the Magi; Twelfth-day. 2. an appearance or manifestation, esp. of a deity. 3. a sudden, intuitive perception of or insight into the reality or essential meaning of something, usually initiated by some simple, homely, or commonplace occurrence or experience. 4. a literary work or section of a work presenting, u...
Confuscious (how the hell do you spell that name anyway?) say: You show your true face to the people who really matter. Or so my fortune cookie at lunch declared to me. I began to think to myself, I show my true face to the people who really matter? Who do show my true face to? No one. So I guess no one matters. Pessimistic. Yeah, I know. (Which is a new shade for me. Usually I'm lucky Mr. Optimism, but lately . . . I blame the science. Or the dodecahedron.) But I ...
Hi. I'm a saint. Specifically, the Saint of Women's Underwear. But I'm also Sausage Man. I'm a saint, and I hate "people". Persons I love, persons I adore, persons I can deal with and relate to. People, however, I hate. People suck. The group mindhive is more a bane than a boon, no matter how many people jump on the bandwagon. I'm all for the strategic bombing of the bandwagon. I love my country but I hate the stupid things that are done or defended in the name of ...
I SAY WE SHOULD GIVE AMNESTY TO ALL ILLEGAL ALIENS. Oh, you meant illegal immigrants . I thought you were talking about extra-terrestrials. Because, man, technically - they're illegal. It's not like they petitioned for the opportunity to visit the planet from the World Government. (Oh, yeah. That fight's already going on in another thread. I don't feel like getting involved. Remember - my favorite solution to solve mankind's problems is to just kill us all and let the cockroaches t...
I sat here in my little teller cubbyhole at work, hearing the words repeat over and over, in the inane, vacuous, insipid song - "I Can Only Imagine". It's a "cute" little song that deals with what it would be like to see Jesus again and what you would do. While I guess the sentiment is okay, I found myself wanting to throw the company-supplied radio across the room, out the door, out onto Fairfield Road and under the eardrum-saving wheels of a passing truck. Why? Because it's pop mu...
I'm watching the last ever episode of Gilmore Girls. Bye, Lauren Graham. I'll miss you.
YES TODAY IS THE DAY, PEOPLE. SEND A MESSAGE TO YOUR INTESTINES - WE'LL HAVE NO GAS TODAY! NO BEANS! NO CABBAGE! TAKE YOUR BEANO! WE'RE SENDING A MESSAGE TO GLOBAL WARMING COMPANIES AND WE'RE NOT GOING TO TAKE IT ANYMORE! THIS WAS COMPLETELY MOTIVATED BY MY LOVE FOR THE EARTH, NOT BECAUSE I JUST BOUGHT 10,000 STOCKS IN THE BEANO CORPORATION! ---------------------------------------------------- This was for all of you who actually bel...
I've been playing around on last.fm, seeing what fun stuffs they have. They have a lot. These are some of the artists I listen to on a regular basis. These are the tracks I've recently listened to. Was this article spam? Yes. Do I care? No. Very no.
"As for the one Mormon running for office, those that really believe in God will defeat him anyway, so don't worry about that. That's a temporary situation." Very cute, Reverend Sharpton. Saying that, as a Mormon, Mitt Romney doesn't believe in God, and that God will somehow defeat him. No, that's not bigoted at all. Al Sharpton, who has fought so "hard" to defeat bigotry and discrimination - one of the strongest supporters of the ousting of Don Imus for his "racist" comments (nev...
My eyes seem trapped in the swirling, spinning vortexes - captured by the smooth curving lines, alternating dark and light, hidden messages in a visual braille - virtual Morse code - evoking images of songs unsung. The curling pictures, cutting through the dark red rosewood, begging the caress of my worn, tired hands. I feel the stiff grain of the sitka, slowly absorbing the finish, shining through in a paradoxically dull light. My hands move. The callouses cry out in agony a...
This seriously has me thinking. I can usually figure out magic tricks with almost no effort whatsoever. I can't figure this stupid thing out at all.
I just found out from Locamama's article that Gilmore Girls has, in fact, been canceled. I was hoping for one more season, even if that meant that Rory was gone. I could've survived without Rory, if they focused on the Lorelai - Emily relationship. This depresses me. It's one of the two shows that I watch. I don't watch anything else, really - just Supernatural (a great, great, show, for those of you who haven't seen it - you CSI fans, I'm talking to you. when CSI is in re...
When I was a kid, I was loaned a guitar by my grandmother. It was a nasty old nylon-six-string, with a slightly curved neck and it wouldn't keep its tune great, and it buzzed something awful on the sixth string. Her name was Bertha. I loved that guitar - yeah, it was a piece of crap, but it was just what I needed as a younger and mid-teenager. I wrote music all the time, both lyrics and melodies, and it was just what I needed. It was a necessary release from the strain of classical p...
La soledad me llena - corre por mis rincones, llega hasta lo más profundo de mi corazón roto, Mi alma estalla, reventa en una angustia purpúrea, una angustia que mezcla con la soledad sofocante en un mole de dolor. Las lágrimas no sirven; estos ojos, tan vacíos y secos, jamás sentirán esta lluvia, este descanso. ¿Jamás? Jamás es miles de años, milenios inumerables, eones y épocas sin contar. Ahora, siento un «jamás» . . . pero mañana viene el sol otra vez. Sé que la so...