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The Journal of Soulo Jacob Bourgeau Ransoms and Old Scars
03/19/2006 09:42 a.m.
Just dusting cobwebs off the binder of my journal; I really should use this as a regular cathartic release (gosh knows I could use one).
I stayed up late and watched 'The Girl Next Door'. It was more enjoyable the first time and I think I'm gonna box up my crush on Elisha Cuthbert, seal with tape and put it in a far corner of the attic. She looks way too much like a girl who crushed - no - maimed my heart.
Sigh.
Actually, on 24 doesn't that pretty much describe what they usually do to Elisha - tape her mouth, put her in a box or a van until daddy Jack comes to save her? Alas, I shall miss the diverse depth of her acting ability.
Bye, 'lisha. I'll find the ransom money somehow....
--eSSJay-- I am currently Gloomy
I am listening to end credits of The Girl Next Door
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Grovelling For HTML tips :o
01/21/2006 09:23 p.m.
Can anyone direct me to a good resource for adding html, changing font styles/colors? I think it'd add another dimension to some of my stuff, most notably "A Runner's Daydream". I'd be grateful for any suggestions. I am currently Unsure
I am listening to Fishbone - The Reality of My Surroundings
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Phoenician Ground Zero
01/19/2006 11:25 p.m.
I'm working a piece on this, but I need to journal this too; think of it as my emotional pressure relief valve or an emotional ketchup burst a la Douglas Coupland. Here's my concern and topic of a forthcoming piece:
When the first dirty bomb, fissile nuclear device, or bio-weapon goes off, it's gonna happen in Phoenix.
I live in Phoenix, so you can imagine this causes me concern. Logically so, right? Then I must ask: why don't my fellow Phoenicians and our leaders in government do something about it? I hear only rhetoric on radio and cable news, no action. This boarder fence idea sounds terrific, albeit 5yrs too late. Fine, let's build the fence. But, uhm...why isn't the military standing that Mexican boarder shoulder to shoulder RIGHT NOW until it's built? Gov. Janet Napolitano brandished sound bites last week, threatening to put the Arizona National Guard on the boarder NOW and send the bill to Donald Rumsfeld. Great idea! But could someone just DO something instead of TALK about it? Aside from the proximity to the UNPROTECTED boarder, isn't there an element of symbolism and irony if al Queda attacks Phoenix? After all, we 'invaded' their desert.....
There. I said it. I feel a bit better. But it doesn't protect me from becoming a crispy chicken and then the rest of America saying, "ooooh, Phoenix was attacked. Yeah, that was a logical target." Help! I am currently Anxious
I am listening to Lateralus - Tool
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Reinkarmation
01/14/2006 06:04 a.m.
If reincarnation serves the purpose of 'recycling' us until we reach a state of enlightenment and higher morality -- who's left on the earth today -- the worst of the worst??
I was raised to consider reincarnation a farce, though I now think it's both fascinating and even plausible.
It sounds funny, but I mean that as a sincere question. If reincarnation weeds out the lawn till all the weeds are gone...doesn't that make us all weeds? Where's my Buddhism experts out there? I am currently Questioning
I am listening to Fishbone - Fishy Swa Ska
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Cat Scratch Fever (work in progress)
01/11/2006 06:48 a.m.
My favorite critic, colleague, and co-conspirator has gone to bed, so I'm journaling this, letting it hang in the ethernet at least overnight (damn all points East that observe DST).
Sigh.
This may be my new method to overcome a creative block.
UNTITLED (or 'Cat Scratch Fever')
The way she cat crawls up the bed to my lips is unfamiliar. She looks the same, smells the same. But the devil’s in her eyes, like a listless lawyer nefariously concocting a dubious motion.
She’s up to something; I’m excited, but maybe a little concerned. Her touch gentle though firm. I would give my kitty cat anything, yet trust is a commodity best rationed her in small bowls. She just laps it up and stares you down for more. Knowing, of course, you will oblige.
I think this aggressive play has something to do with my behavior at her Christmas office party tonight. Her ass in that gossamer material was too much to resist. I pressed the cup of my hand to her cheek. I ran my index finger against her silk skirt, following the vee of her thong panties down. Looking at her tricep, I think I gave her a chill. The clench in her jaw confirms I succeeded. Let her try to concentrate on what her boss is saying now! Fuck him, I know he wants her. But I’ve been warned to bite my lip at these functions, so I don’t make a scene.
Danger has its place in our love life. But this look she javelins me! A glare naked and raw, feral in form. My instincts say flight but my libido says just surrender. Relax and enjoy. You are the luckiest man with a cock. If you need reminding, you really don’t deserve her.
That’s the typical dialogue that occurs in my head at times like this. She’s wild, unpredictable, and sometimes inflicts pain. But trust me, friend, it’s all worth it in the end. All worth it indeed.
Consider this for a moment: Dana catscratches me, paws me a lot during such sensual playtimes as this. But, like I said, this feral approach is a first. Never will it be said we are not inventive in the bedroom. A prototype or toy or position thought only possible during a space shuttle flight is always around the corner. Much experimentation goes on here, we could easily fill a book.
Note the willful manner with which she’s now nibbling my earlobe, breathing warmly on my neck. Is this an attempt to distract, then drop down to pierce my carotid artery? We play rough, often we contort the grammar of lust. We cajole its words to make a sentence of our own leaving sensual syntax in a turbulent sea amiss with the clothes on the floor.
What to call this form of my lover’s aggression is yet up for consideration. For now, I relax, close my eyes to the width of a lash, and let my cat woman have her way…
I am currently Bleh
I am listening to Coast to Coast AM
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Walt Whitman on Poets
01/02/2006 11:02 p.m.
As I sit to reread, to relish the eloquence of a pure master, I deem it a high travesty of selfishness to not share this excerpt with my Pathetic peers...
This is what you shall do: Love the earth and sun and the animals, despise riches, give alms to everyone that asks, stand up for the stupid and crazy, devote your income and labor to others, hate tyrants, argue not concerning God, have patience and indulgence toward the people, take off your hat to nothing known or unknown or to any man or number of men, go freely with powerful uneducated persons and with the young and with the mothers of families, read these leaves in the open air every season of every year of your life, re-examine all you have been told at school or church or in any book, dismiss whatever insults your own soul, and your very flesh shall be a great poem and have the richest fluency not only in its words but in the silent lines of its lips and face and between the lashes of your eyes and in every motion and joint of your body…The poet shall not spend his time in unneeded work. He shall know that the ground is always ready plowed and manured…others may not know it but he shall. He shall go directly to the creation. His trust shall master the trust of everything he touches…and shall master all attachment.
from ‘Preface to Leaves of Grass’ - Walt Whitman

I am currently Awestruck
I am listening to the Fiesta Bowl
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Empty Box
12/26/2005 07:06 p.m.
Tore open a package it was an empty box
No meaning to me just an empty box
Sender was a woman
Sender was a woman
She said she's sending me everything that I,I
I ever gave her before
She said fill it up and send it back
Fill it up and send it back
So I send her back an empty box
A big mistake sent back an empty box
Half in the shadows half in the husky moonlight
And half insane just a sound
I crossed into a valley a valley so dark
That when I look back I can't see where I begin
I can't see my hands
I don't even know if my eyes are open
In the morning I was by the sea
And I swam out as far as I could swim
Until I was too tired to swim anymore
And then I floated and tried to get my strength back
And then an empty box came floating by
An empty box and I crawled inside
Half in the shadows half in the husky moonlight
And half insane just a sound in the night
Half in the shadows half in the husky moonlight
And half insane just a sound ...
-Empty Box, Morphine
lyrics by Mark Sandman (1952-1999)
I can think of a few acquaintances I should send an empty box. In my opinion, Mark Sandman is the most prolific songwriter of our time. If you've never listened to Morphine, I implore you to listen. Like the narcotic, addiction sets in after just one song.
I am currently Melancholy
I am listening to Morphine - Like Swimming
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Inspiration From a Master
12/18/2005 07:09 a.m.
If I'm feeling uninspired, I'll open Leaves of Grass. Sometimes, after ten minutes of slack-jawed awe, I find my creative cauldron stoked. Check out what I mean:
POETS TO COME.
POETS to come! orators, singers, musicians to come!
Not to-day is to justify me and answer what I am for,
But you, a new brood, native, athletic, continental,
greater than before known,
Arouse! for you must justify me.
I myself but write one or two indicative words for the
future,
I but advance a moment only to wheel and hurry back
in the darkness.
I am a man who, sauntering along without fully stopping,
turns a casual look upon you and then averts his
face,
Leaving it to you to prove and define it,
Expecting the main things from you.
-Walt Whitman, from Leaves of Grass

I am currently Awestruck
I am listening to Coast to Coast AM
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Orange Quadruped
12/16/2005 06:08 a.m.
If my Logan isn't the cutest, fluffy, red quadruped you've seen today, IM me and I'll eat my shoe....



 I am currently Tired
I am listening to Ethel - XM Radio
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Spellchecker Conspiracy?
11/29/2005 10:38 p.m.
My spellchecker suggests replacing 'Rumsfeld' with 'feldspar'. Perhaps a conspiracy of anti-war geologists...?
 I am currently Mysterious
I am listening to Lucy (XM radio)
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