Happy

No sad stories or weird poems.

This story is about one of the best friends I've ever had (and still have). I don't have a true 'best friend'. I have one biological Brother. Many Brothers in faith and in Mission. I have Family including my wife (who is, just by her pure nature my best friend), but I have no clear cut best friend. I do have a hierarchy of friendss, though.

1. Best Friends
2. Friends
3. Buddies
4. Aquaintances
5. People I barely trust but at one point were friends with.

The rest are just people. In the top three of best friends is my pal JP. We were both nuts in college. We drank and made up songs and played with toys in the middle of parties, had fights and wrestling matches, barely maintained a GPA above the wash out line and did a lot of hiking and soul searching together.

And we had barbeques. Big ones.

Well, after we had all graduated or left academia, we both became kinda sad and jaded. We'd hit the nice beach town bars and get piss drunk and yell "You're so fucking safe!" to those we went to escort (women and their purses), but the glow had worn off and the meaning of life which we seemed all to familiar with (to love and be loved) became hazy. I became a financial advisor and then a teacher. He floated around for a few years and joined the Red Cross the week 9/11 happened. He lost it. He joined the Air Force, general enlistment even though he could have been an officer.

Then Iraq happened. He went and did his duty and came home safely. Thank GOD (Great Omnipotent Divine) that he lived. I could have handled any other friends death with a tremendous amount of grief and lived. If he had died, I would have died too.

You see, JP is one of those rare souls who is a poet at heart. He can turn anything into anything he wants it to be just by thinking for a bit, taking a drag off of a cigarette and saying a few words. Iraq never even touched him. He nearly died three times (if I'm counting right) and was at a base just outside of Fallujah. He never told us where he was until he came back.

He showed us pictures of camel spiders (they really can grow to two feet long). He told us funny stories, sad stories and how green Germany looked on his way home compared to the brown heat of God's testing ground.

JP never let it take his heart, his soul away.

I have never had a fight with him (at least none significant enough to remember). He's the only man I know who I can walk in the woods for hours with, not say a word and still have a conversation with. He's the guy I'd take on the most dangerous camping trip in the world, because even when he doesn't know what to do, he makes it up and it works somehow.

He's a painter and a sculptor as well as a word smith. His poems are jumbled and insane, but filled with images of storms, evil men, passionate sun filled days and mind garbage.

In short, he's the unrecognized mind of his generation and the inspiration for much of my antics. He remains unrecognized because he'd never considered being recognized as a great thing anyways. He's always valued friendship over money. He's out for a good time, no matter what life has for him. Sure, I've seen his down moments, but they're calm and far between.

He now works in Washington, protecting us all from chemical and biological agents, anonymously, of course, but still high enough up to know that every day he must do his job or someone will die. He'd never put it that way, but it's true.

He comes home to MA for three days next week. I get one of those days. I'll trade the other 364 days of misery for that chance.

Christopher

The Line

For the Family of imperfection

The Line

The line is straight.
The line demands respect.
People's lives are on the line.

One dimension,
With no deviation,
No second or third direction
If you wish to save your body, mind and soul.

Stray from the path of the line
And you are a plane,
A flat surface with no depth.

Pull away from the path of the line
And you are a prism.
Length, Width, Height
Volume and Surface Area.
Make you human,
Live and screaming in all three directions.

No human can walk the path of the line
Without straying to and fro
On occasion.
You cannot walk the straight line.
You are perfectly imperfect.

But, to give up and wander
Into the depths of the three dimensional,
Mistake riddled,
Trap filled void of Moral Geometry,
Without at least making the attempt
To fight for a walk on the straight straight Line
Is Cowardice.

Walk the Line and fail,
But do your best.
Do your best.
Do your best.
And you will succeed
Despite all your failures.
So sayeth the Great Omnipotent Divine.

We Pray and wish each other Luck.
May God's arrow pull us along,
And may we be strong enough not to resist its pull.


Christopher

You've really never heard of Jerry?

There once was this kid we all knew named Jerry. He was 20 years old, but a kid. He was always laughing and playing practical jokes (which reminds me of another story, but I digress). Jerry was also a thief, a compulsive liar and an in your face Pagan (nothing wrong with that, but it has relevence your honor).

Jerry used to sell pot out of the Shea Durgin Dormitories at Bridgeqater State college with (at the time) his best friend, By the way, as an aside, the Dorrm was called The Hill and was the inspiration for the name Hill TV (website currently being revamped to match original intent of providing help for those on their journey).

Anyways, one day Jerry and his best friend's room was robbed. All the pot and pot money was gone, things were destroyed. Even Jerry's ceremomial sword for his Pagan rituals was broken in half. This, as any good Pagan knows, is the highest of insults and usually only done by a more powerful pagan who wishes to rob you of your power.

Quick aside again: I am not a Pagan myself, but I did participate in some of the rituals. Bridgewater had this way of making anything possible and putting you in a dark box and yelling at you to fight your way out. I did what I had to. Now, I am part of the Mystery Religion known as Roman Catholicism, the religion in which I was raised that opposes pretty much all other religions, even other Christian religions and groups that pray in a non-Catholic, non-Christ first way. My own personal take is not to judge any other religion, but then again, I'm just one of the little guys... for now. So, my opinion of unifying all faiths under the God of Abraham by any name (like The Great Spirit, the Supreme Deity, or The Great Architect, or Lord Jesus, or the Tao, or the Sacred Intelligence of the Universe) is not going to be taken quite seriously until God sends the sign that will bear me, and others who believe like me, out. Quite literally I am a Christian Mystic. Much of what I just said is grounds for being thrown out of my Church entirely, but it's MY Church and they will have a tough fight on their hands if they do so.

Back to the show. The mystery of the robbery was never solved, due to lack of evidence and a reluctance to push matters with the police due to the drug trafficking. "Hey, Officer? Any chance you could speed this up and get my pot and drug money back?" Yeah right.

Then, one day about a year and a half later, Jerry swears me to secrecy. When I swear anything, or promise anything I am good for it and people know that. Well, I accept and he confesses to robbing himself and his friend!

Why? Two reasons.

1. To see if he could commit the ultimate crime.
2. To take all the money and the pot, smoke the pot, and use the money to by more pot.

Now, Jerry was a drug user, but trust me... he could stop and start. He was not addicted to anything but stealing.

What about the ceremonial sword? He took out all of its Pagan Power before he broke it. Why even bother? Well, no one would ever suspect that the almighty Pagan Mage would destroy his own sword! So, everyone looked for someone who hated Jerry, needed money, and feared his power.

What I found out was that very person was Jerry himself. His self hatred became more evident over the next few months as he spiraled out of control emotionally and mentally. And, quite frankly, he feared his own power.

You see, even in Catholicism there's an old adage that whatever sins you commit against another being will be revisited on you seven times over and will extend to your next generation and your family. Jerry had used his power to screw people many times and he knew he was fucked 7 times over for it. What good would a sword be against the multiplied demons of his transgressions. Better to destroy it and give up your power and just HOPE you can survive the becklash.

Meanwhile my dilemna was clear. My word is my promise and I hold to my word. If I do not, there is nothing to stop me from breaking my word again and again until no one values an oath uttered by me. But, the friend who lived with Jerry was my friend.

It took me almost a year and a half, but I finally broke my promise and told my friend what Jerry had done. For seven torturous years after that, my friend and I lost contact, I lost the rest of my friends, and many even became hostile towards me.

You see, I put my pride in my oath ABOVE the love of friendship for a whole year. For seven years I had no true friends except my wife. Everyone broke promises to me left an right. I had fallen into the rule of seven. My sin of pride stripped me of my reputation, my friends and any loyalty they had towards me.

Make no mistake, no one hated me for busting Jerry. That's for sure. But in the process we all had to ask "Well, who the fuck CAN we trust, then?" The grand scheme of the circle at Bridgewater ended. Even Bridgewater itself closed up its magical, divine aura for seven years.

God forgive me, God forgive us all.

And please God, although he is not worthy of your Love, forgive Jerry.

Christopher

here

why not

Go Slowly

Go slowly,
The things that move quickly kill

Killing is urgent and must be done now.
Kill quickly and bring death.
Spill Blood and leave none left.
Intent is LAW and Death be obeyed.
Kill now, or go slowly.
And Kill nothing today.

Christopher.

When Did Religion Become the Enemy?

I believe in God. I don't force my beliefs on anyone, but I'm a little worried lately that quite a few people are of the opinion that belief in God is moronic.

I appreciate the wonders of science and the advances in technology, but that doesn't mean that we mut assume there is only scientific law to guide us. Read the Tao de Ching or the Bible or the Tibetan Book of the dead and you'll find lessons that can lead to a happier, more fulfilling life. Now, these books were written by humans, but in tribute to a divine guiding presence. Why is that considered backward thinking or naivety? The truth is most religions provide more practical solutions to living a fulfilling life than any scientific theory.

In fact, most scientists are so awed by the simplistic laws that govern the universe without fail that they become believers in a divine guiding hand.

Now, am I suggesting we teach religion in public schools or use religious dogma to run our great nation? No. But someday very soon the human race will find itself faced with a crisis. It is my belief that faith is what will see us through this crisis. People who have faith in a higher power will work harder, driven by a sense of purpose. A divine purpose, a divine plan and a special role to play in that plan.

How can anyone honestly say the Ten Commandments of the Bible are superstitious dribble? They are the basis of our entire legal system! The teachings of the Buddha echo these sentiments and focus on accepting life as a spiritual journey in a human body and if we wish to truly make the most out of life, we must be humble, caring and charitable. And some people think this is fantasy made up to assuage ancient instinctive fears, or crude explanations from early, less educated societies that had nothing else to help them make sense of life's twisted turns. Amazing how judgemental we are of something which shows us how to be better people.

Why is it okay to verbally and intellectually persecute those who believe in a divine entity that is our guide and our superior?

Because the Human Race has become too filled with pride in their own answers to allow the idea of an omniscient being to receive at least part of the credit for providing us with the gifts to accomplish all the things we've done well.

While this short missive will not even dent an athiest's denial of the existence of anything divine or get any agnostic off the fence, I hope that it at least gives those people who do not have faith in a God a moment to pause to reconsider bashing those who are religious. After all, the purpose of faith is to give us hope and allow us to be more generous with all of our gifts, including ourselves. How in the world can that be backwards thinking?

Chris

Everything's done under the sun.

Big announcement:

A meeting of the most brilliant minds in the world (including J.G.N., the deceased Dr. Robert J. Murk *awesome*, Dr. Mantodea, Malach and a bunch of scientists and other nerds) have determined that there is no novelty left in human existence, and as such, the human race will be gradually phased into syndication on TBS between the King of Queens and Everybody Loves Raymond.

Don't panic! We're not cancelling the Human Race per se, just putting a moritorium on any foolish attempt at 'trying something new'. It's not working people. Nothing is going to change this life. Quit fucking around and just use the old episodes as reminders of what actually works.

Now, considering the biggest complaint about this life is the horrible suffering and death we endure, it is only natural to try and prevent it. Unfortunately, there are only three real eventualities in life: birth, suffering, and death. Sounds pretty off putting, eh? And you were wondering why we were considering cancelling the show altogether! Shame on you.

Now, some people get a lot less of the suffering etc etc, but some people get only suffering. We have to think of them and just kinda not renew the series. No panic, reruns will be on every night.

Wait! HEY YOU! Where do you think you're going with that thought???? I am NOT a pessimist. Birth is painful, but good. Suffering is painful, but is the best teacher. Death is sad, but is a rest or a new journey or at least not here, so all things are okay. We just don't think anyone should be attempting to put a new spin on life anymore and figure 20,000 odd years or so of new episodes is enough, okay?

We love you,

The Council.