The Horror of Absence

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This blog is inspired by something I read in my cohorts GREAT blog on Walk The Line entitled The Interview, he states "...what I saw reminded me of me. There’s one point in their talk where Joaquin’s whole body shakes, just for a moment, and he heaves a huge resigned sigh with an air of ‘I have to get through this, just a little bit longer.’ I have been there a million times. Law school, grad school, nothing I’ve tried has been able to alter the fact that when a lot of people are looking at me, I simply lose the ability to speak. "



We hate being without our masks. We would love everyone to think that we are intelligent and charming people without a care in the world which also just happens to be "our" personal oyster. What terror comes over us when we have nothing to say? Why does man fear silence so much? Some argue it is because someone else can fill in our words. I can honestly remember a few times I wish I had been silent and someone else had filled in my responses. The things we do to protect our egos and illusions border on monsterous. What we do to others when they fall below our expectations also border on monsterous. So one might argue should any of us accuse another of anything.


Fears; everybody's got em whether they lie about it or not. I remember being terrified of getting up in front of people or entering a room and even afraid to leave my own house on certain days. I wasnt ready. I couldnt manufacture the illusion that had so often protected me; but from what, myself? others? both? On any given day, it may all be true or it may all be false. We are a civilization parading traditions as though they were truth. Thats the problem with PGA; (for the born-under-the-pew folks, that means pure grain alcohol). We drown ourselves in the KoolAde of political correctness pretending that three fourths of the cup isnt already filled with PGA. It just tastes so good, it couldnt be bad/harmful...besides I feel good.


I am so glad to see some "regular sized" women on tv/media and a few housewives who arent that desperate. Unfortunately, the cougars are coming to devour any survivors. If image is king and we sell our children for cents; who will pay the national debt? Where is all this going and what does it mean....probably nothing, possibly everything. But who will be brave enough to say? Do protests matter if noone is offended or inconvienced? If I saved a fortune on my car insurance; isnt it ok that I left a little roadkill along the way?

The horror of absence lurks everywhere. Its blade is razor sharp and serrated for maximum chaos. Will we in the US have to go without something we took for granted? Will our illusion of security be trampled on again and when? Is it safe to buy anything new? Do I have a job tomorrow? The what ifs are countless and the potential for absence is a chasm twenty times the distance from our souls. I dont know the answer; but I have the hope and faith to keep stepping another day. Its no wonder people buying the coffee for the person behind them in line at Starbucks seems so miraculous to the news media these days.....

Beware the Dark: Our Black Hearts

This morning was extra stormy with gloomy clouds. an angry wind and a bit of chill in the air. NOW, the sun is out and no evidence that a storm came this way or passed through remains. You never know what you dont know. I was reading another blog this morning about fear and its power over us; I thought it was pretty good. I tend to enjoy knowing the monster I'm facing probably more than is healthy.

You've heard it said, "WE have nothing to fear but FEAR itself..." Well that sounds great as a quote; but really? I dont think that holds much credibility. In fact, I would go so far as to say its an out and out lie; some snipet of logic thrown out to be penned for all time as great. I beg to differ. Its easy to see there is plenty to fear and even be afraid of. NOW, its the paralization that comes from fear that is more the enemy. If we cannot advance or receede, then we shall surely die where we stand. He who runs away lives to fight another day. He who's dumb enough to stay was buried where he lay. In our American history we have reached a point beyond eloquent speeches and the political nod that typically means business as usual. We are getting close to the end of the rope for ourselves and the generations to follow. Is doom inevitable? NO; but it may be necessary. How do CEO's, financial managers, banks, etc get to do such a horrible job and still keep their jobs PLUS bailout money to do it again???? Clearly Im in the wrong profession. Its funny to hear that now they say banks have been hoarding the bailout money to buy out smaller banks instead of passing it along to the consumers......ya think???? Money is rarely the solution; the fault always lies in the heart.


Sometimes you dont have to see it to be endangered by it. The prey that doesnt see the predator is no less dead.

Fear UnChanges Everything!

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I had a great weekend... one of those you wake up Monday morning, cut off the alarm, think 30 more minutes and wake up late, dashing for the shower, considering what you can skip, do I have to, still missing the warm bed weekends. Full and pressed down packed with fun and lovin,' it was a weekend to grin about. I ate all my favorite things, did nothing I should have and laughed all the way. I saw my little nephew CM (short for Christopher Micheal) do his Karate training for his next belt level, played Wii with Pickle and Tiny, ate Demos steaks and more! I even skipped my Saturday mega-max workout. Whew! In addition to all that, we went and saw The Mist by Stephen King. I was superised when Tiny brought it up since she doesnt do horror, demons, ghosts, posession or supernatural (all the fun stuff). So we went! I really enjoyed the movie. In fact I amstill thinking about some of its messages.

The Mist
Starring: Thomas Jane, Laurie Holden, Frances Sternhagen, Nathan Gamble, Jeffrey DeMunn,
Marcia Gay Harden, William Sadler, Andre Braugher

With this, his third theatrical adaptation of a Stephen King story, Frank Darabont has proven two things: First, that magic happens whenever he and King get together and the two of them should consider moving into a duplex. Second, that Frank Darabont is a sadist. He gets his jollies by hurting his audience. Not physically, but emotionally. Where other filmmakers get a reaction by ratcheting up the tension or raising the stakes to deliver thrills, Darabont does it by stabbing his audience with an emotional knife, and then twisting and turning it until we’re utterly drained of feeling. He takes special pleasure in sticking his switchblade into men, and previous Darabont directorial efforts like The Green Mile and The Shawshank Redemption seem specifically geared to hit that soft, gooey spot that the hardened, manly man ego keeps hidden away deep inside. Frank Darabont earns a living making grown men cry, and there’s no one better at it.

With The Mist, he’s done it again. By the time the film’s credits rolled I was wrecked, a mass of roiling emotion and depression. The movie sticks with you long after the lights come on; it lingers in your soul like a recurring nightmare or the shadowy vision of an inevitable and terrible future. It starts with a storm and a geeky, blink and you’ll miss it, nod to fans of Stephen King’s “Dark Tower” novels. David Drayton (Thomas Jane) and his family retreat to their basement to ride out the bad weather. When they emerge in the morning a tree has crashed through their front window, and the power is out. David and his young son go into town for supplies, leaving his wife behind. It’s at the grocery store where David first realizes something is horribly wrong. A man, bloodied and panicked, races into the store screaming “there’s something in the mist!” Just as David and the other customers look out the window to see an unnatural mist rolling towards the store, the city’s air raid sirens sound.

More terrifying than the horrifying creatures lurking outside the store are the two-legged beings lurking within it. The Mist is more than just some monster movie, instead it’s a careful examination of human nature. Darabont’s adapted script develops each character carefully, and the film’s real thrills come from following his group of terrified survivors as they fight, fear, and quite simply fall apart in different ways as hope drains away. Some turn to God and fatalism, others turn to logic, still others choose denial and pay for their refusal to face facts. David Drayton however, simply refuses to give up. ....more....

What scares us about what we cannot see? Why does the the removal of the things we take for granted really uncover who we are as humans; animals without fur, defiant to the end, survival at all costs. King really gives us a terrifying glimpse of the animal below the flesh of humans as things begin to unravel. No good horror movie is complete without some nutjob religious fanatic and Marcia Gay Harden delivers! King takes his time peeling away the venir of humanity as the just bits of the horror outside are revealed. His skill at his craft feeds you random sounds and heart-stopping jerks of surprise that make you lose track of time and just start breathing to keep from passing out. Unlike most of the King for TV movies, this one doesn't fall apart at the end...it keeps going. In fact, perhaps this is not a horror movie about the unthinkable; but about the unseen that sees us every morning in the comfort of our mirrors just waiting for its freedoms.

Nobody hides who they are when they're terrified! Meanwhile, catch the second edition of The Mist; Revaporized! for deeper darker insights into the fog of humanity.