Eccentric and Bent

Come on a fantastic voyage in the backwaters of my mind.

Monthly Archives: February 2013

Weekly Writing Challenge: Dystopia! (The Musical)

Weekly Writing Challenge: Dystopia! (The Musical).

hmmm, more creative writing. I don’t know if I will be able to participate in this week’s challenge but I am going to try. If it’s not up by Thursday then you will know that everything became too much and my brain is now a puddle of goo. Remember the road to hell is paved with good intentions.

Down with Eggs – Chickens RULE

Down with Eggs – Chickens RULE.

Here’s an entry on the ‘”chicken” side of the debate. I think it’s a cocky assumptionbut a great read.

You often hear folks lamenting the ills of the world. Yet when you tell them to do something about the injustices, you get that old worn chestnut about how one person can’t change the world. I have always felt that those people were shortsighted; you don’t need to change the world, just change your part in it. As a non-religious person who believes in tithing, I give money, food, or just a smile whenever I can. Here is another blogger who is making a difference in the lives they are encountering. This is a beautiful, poignant, and self aware post. Enjoy!

Africa far and wide

The story of Rudi

A token plastic elephant, my silent promise

A few months back, I met an incredible woman. She was walking alongside a dusty, endless road, very slowly and noticeably too old to be carrying a small child on her back. I stopped and asked her where she was going and would she like a lift? She said ‘No, she is almost home.’ I asked if the child was her grandchild to which a brief story came tumbling out. And while she makes up one in millions of the same story, it wasn’t any less shocking.

I took a photo of her and gave the child a small plastic toy that my kids could quite frankly do without. She thanked me and continued walking. It seemed silly, silly to give her a little plastic made-in-China elephant after listening to her brief tragic story, like I had missed the…

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The Egg

Deep in the rain forest, a gentle cracking is heard above the roar of the nearby waterfall.  The sun rises turning the mist into a bejeweled rainbow. A small beak pecks to break free from the ovoid laying among the leaf litter. The anxious mother paces back and forth as the father takes to the limbs to crow about the impending birth. (It is his first child after all.) More of the little creature is emerging from the creamy ovoid.  The bright yellow beak is chipping away more and more of the prison it is encased in.  The mother pauses in her high-stepping pacing. She looks down at herself.  She takes in the opalescent beauty of her blue-black feathers. Her beak is a burnt orange.  She is as vibrant as the sun itself.  The father is not too shabby himself. He is a sleek royal blue with feathers that look like they have been dipped in liquid amethysts. In high school he was the most popular guy, a true cock of the walk, and he chose her.  She had been in love with Henry for as long as she could remember. They had been together a long time except that short time she wanted to prove that she had options and went to the movies with John.  (John was a mistake.  He just couldn’t understand why she wouldn’t commit to a lifetime with him. He was dull. All he wanted to squawk about was his own supposed superiority.) She looked back at her child just as it was fully emerging from the ovoid. It was undersized and had scraggly white and tan feathers.  There was no one in her family that looked like that and as far as she knew there was no one in Henry’s family that resembled this scrawny child. (She is hoping no one in John’s family looks like this either.) While all of these thoughts are running through her mind, the child looks up at her with enormous black eyes and its bright yellow beak.  Her heart immediately overflows with love.  She thinks of how she is going to have to take extra special care of her special little one.  She wonders how different the child’s life will be from the other children hatching all around. She is afraid that others will not treat her baby kindly because it looks so different with its stubby tail feathers and squat frame. The child asks her, ” Mother, are you unhappy to see me? You look so sad.” The mother looks down at her baby and smiles.  In that moment, she realizes that her child is brilliant. She realizes that her child can ken things that most babies cannot.  She responds, “I am not unhappy. I was worried that you may end up unhappy and lonely because you are not like the rest of us. I see now that I have no need to fear for you are magnificent in your own way.” She decided to name her child in the way of the ancestors. She named the baby The Child Who Can Ken All (Ken for short). As the child got older there were times when it was made to feel as an outsider but only by an ignorant few. The child grew fat and happy from love. Those who knew the child well nicknamed him Child Ken because the whole name was a lot to say.  When the child got into high school, he joined a band. His name was shortened even more to Chi Ken (pronounced Shy-Ken).  The band became one of the greatest rock groups of all time. Maybe you have heard of Leonard Skinnard? The glories of Chi Ken have been repeated through the ages, passed down through families like mine. Unfortunately due to changes in language, most people mispronounce Chi Ken’s name. Due to the mispronunciation, the spelling of the name has been formalized into Chicken.

This is how I know the egg came before the Chicken.

I Know What You Did Last Weekend

2012-06-02_14-37-06_987In reviewing the latest offering from the Jackson Family, I found a rehash of some of their earlier hits with a few surprises. The disc starts off with a jazzy little number that you would not expect from the Jacksons.  The first track, Aunt, is the tale of a new aunt caring for her twin nieces in addition to her usual menagerie.  The song was achingly beautiful but somewhat unusual in its approach.  Humor was interlaced throughout the love so you didn’t know whether to laugh, cry or just dance. I think the Jacksons may be experimenting with a new direction. If this is to be it, it will be fun and kinetic with just enough intellectualism to satisfy the trendsters. 

The rest of the tracks are filled with the edgy tension and rollicking good times you have come to expect from this group.  While the familiarity felt like home, the familiar may cause this group to become lackadaisical in their approach to producing new material.

Another surprising track is called Hiking “A” Mountain. It features 3 members of the group that are generally in the background.  It tells the tale of three intrepid adventurers tackling one of the rites of passage in the Phoenix Metropolitan Area. It starts out strong with a rockabilly flavor and ends with a melodious lullaby that soothes the aches and pains from pitting man against nature. This little ditty left me with the warm and fuzzies.  There is a bonus track on this disc called President’s Day Cleanup.  This track seemed like an afterthought stuck at the end of a well crafted, if predictable, disc.

Overall this is a decent compilation of tracks. There could have been a little more energy and excitement. But for a group that has been in the business as long as the Jacksons, this was a solid effort filled with strong production and some inspired topics. If you have the time, be sure to check out this group. I give them 3 1/2 Mics out of 5 mics total.

This review was inspired by the daily prompt at  Check out some of the below links to see the original prompt and other responses to it.

Spiritual and Magical Properties of Essential Oils

Spiritual and Magical Properties of Essential Oils.

If you need a boost or to calm down, there is an essential oil for you.  From ancient times until today, there have always been those who understood the power of essential oils, herbs, roots, and holistic healing.  We used to call those people wise women/men, healers, or shamans.  We now call those people crackpots, quacks, or delusional. The further away from nature we get the sicker we get as a society.  Add some of the mystical back into your life. Read this article, consult your local herbalist or aromatherapist, pick up a book and take control of your life.

Quick Tip: Stay Regular

Quick Tip: Stay Regular.

Blogging is like exercising, in my opinion. Some days I am highly motivated. Other days it’s a fat day. (Disclaimer: I do not have a structured workout scheduled. I leave that to those peppy cheerleader types. So my comparison comes from the comments of others about their workout routines. Heck, I chase a 2-year-old around for 15-18 hours a day and horseplay with the others from 5PM – 9PM most evenings. Who needs a structured workout. )
As a result there is no real schedule above trying to post at least 2 days a week. I typically don’t get on the interwebs on the weekends because I am fully focused on family time then. I also post less frequently during school vacations because there are 7 people in line for the desktop. Once I get a new laptop that will change. If a good blog is like a healthy colon then my blog is probably more like a college kid’s colon, healthy enough but subject to occasional abuse. This could result in constipation, diarrhea, and hemorrhoids. Constipation of the brain may cause me not to post as frequently. That is why I created the Ask Me Anything…Seriously page. Your questions may be the laxative needed by me. If I suffer from diarrhea of the blog I will post until the situation remedies itself. Hopefully this blog never suffers from hemorrhoids because I will shut it down. I will try to maintain a healthy blog because I don’t want to bore you. Just understand that, like you, I live a real life and that is my most important task.

Blogging Tips

Blogging Tips.

A breathtaking look at love. And an awesome take on today’s prompt. Enjoy, I definitely did.


She is our Mother.  Like disobedient children we are ignoring her pleadings.  We ignore her lessons in pursuit of the shiny man-made items that the TV tells us we all need. In pursuit of greed, we have become disconnected from her.  We no longer dance or sing her praises. We no longer treat her children kindly.  We no longer seek her wisdom. We feel that she has to keep providing for our own selfish desires.  We are clogging her arteries.  We are gouging scars into her skin. We are darkening her lungs with our exhaust. We throw our trash all over her.  We have divided and subdivided her so that we no longer have communities. We constantly harangue and molest her but expect her to stand strong in support of us. I mean that is what a mother is supposed to do, right?

Well, her anger is becoming quite evident.  She is shaking, quaking, blowing hot, blowing cold, and dousing us with water. She is trying to scratch us off her back like a dog scratches away fleas. (I mean honestly, we have stopped being her loving children and become parasites.) Her love now has conditions placed upon it. Heed her warnings or be left floundering when she finally takes away her love.

This is the truth that I have learned as I get ready to enter my fourth decade.  It is only by trying to learn about my ancestors and how they lived that I have realized how far from the path we have strayed.  I know that it is time to lessen my impact on the matrix. While I’ll never give up all of my modern conveniences I can figure out ways to keep them from hurting the Mother.

My dream is to live as far off the grid as possible. I see that my solution is nature.  The first step would be to find a plot of land that I could “borrow”. (The idea of land ownership needs to be given up. I believe that concept is part of the reason we are disconnected from nature.  Land ownership gives a false sense of being apart from nature.)  I would build a subterranean home or one made from the materials indigenous to the area in which I would reside. An underground home has been proven to reduce heating and cooling costs in the desert metropolis I live in. A home from indigenous materials would do the same if it was built with the natural world in mind.  Adobe homes maintain their temperatures by adding breezeways, ceiling vents, natural insulation, and other features.  Either of these homes would contain solar panels, windmills, and gardens. Just like plants, solar panels transform the sun into energy. The windmill would be backup on those rare cloudy days. I would try to achieve 100% electric independence.  The gardens would be provide food and medicine.  This would reduce my dependency upon gasoline by lessening the items needing to be purchased from the store. In order to irrigate my gardens, I would use recycled water and rain water caught in an underground tank. I hope I can find a natural aquifer to tap for a well, otherwise I will have to depend on the matrix to provide that need. (Gotta have a reliable water source, especially if you live in the desert.) Once my home was sustainable, I would open it to others seeking communion with the Mother.

Each morning would begin by greeting Brother Sun and singing his praises.  For without him we would be lost in darkness. We would spend our days learning the lessons of the Mother.  We could observe how her other children lived in harmony with her and emulate them. We could remember our ancestors and how they lived on the land before they became civilized. We would be able to remember when we were children and had a sense of wonder.  We could become who we truly are meant to be.

At the very least I would be able to heed the lessons and admonitions of the Mother. I believe that the biggest one is to live in love with the natural world and all things in it. I think that she wants us to understand that we can never truly own her because she is the one who sustains us.  All we can do is try to honor her gifts.

If I ever get a chance to “borrow” a piece of her I will love her as I love myself. I will use what she teaches me to teach others.  Maybe in that way I can help end her frustration. And without the frustration, she may fully embrace us once again.

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