Ronin of the Spirit

Because reality is beautiful.

Audacious Man

I will write my paradigm paper, really. I’m just busy.

A specialist will always beat a generalist in a specialized challenge.  The only time a specialist losses to a generalist is in general challenge.

Specialized challenge: going really fast in a vehicle around a highly embanked well paved track. Winner: race car. Loser: tractor.

Specialized challenge: pulling 40 tons of grain over wet sod for 2 hours on 3 gallons of diesel. Winner: tractor. Loser: race car.

The only time a generalist has chance is when the challenge is general.  This is why we use main battle tanks and not light, medium, and heavy battle tanks.  Battle is a general challenge so a force of all general tanks beats a force of an equal number of special tanks, unless there are special circumstances. Same goes for airplanes.  We are increasingly moving away from force of fighters, attack planes, ground support planes, and light bombers to a single multirole plane which isn’t quite as good of a specialist as any of those, but over all wins the general challenge.

A human, verses any animal specialist will always lose. Apes are better weight lifters, dolphins better swimmers, cheetahs better runners, fleas better jumpers.  We don’t haves as good as hearing, smelling, tasting, touching, or seeing as a veritable zoo of various species. We have one specialty:

We create.

We make tools to make tools to make tools.  Everything we make is a tool.  No other species specializes does creation like us.  This is one of the most important ideas in the world.  This means we are at our most human when we are creating. The “best” human is not the one who knows the most facts, or has the most stuff, or can influence the most people.  The most human human is the one that is the most creative.   This is the human most useful to any society when the game changes, though also the most likely to change the game.

What does this mean? My thanks to Xenophanes for expounding on this back in 500 BC:

The Ethiops say that their gods are flat-nosed and black,
While the Thracians say that theirs have blue eyes and red hair.
Yet if cattle or horses or lions had hands and could draw,
And could sculpt like men, then the horses would draw their gods
Like horses, and cattle like cattle; and each they would shape
Bodies of gods in the likeness, each kind, of their own

And so the Gods of people are…always…creators.

Who is more audacious, the man who believes there is no God, or the man believes his god must be just like him?

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December 6, 2009 Posted by | atheism, Christianity, poetry, Politics, Religion, Self discovery, skepticism, Uncategorized | , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Breakup poetry.

Ok, seriously, I have to stop posting my random, mostly high school-ish poetry, but I am having so much fun I can’t stop.  Haiku time, kids.

In breakup we both

lost some one we truly loved.

You lost more than I

July 28, 2009 Posted by | poetry, Self discovery, Slice of life, Uncategorized | , , , , , , | 4 Comments

Sister in Christ

labelle-medlove

Brother this and brother that
Hold me I’m scared
and have I gotten fat?
Love should be shared

So tell me your prayers!
I’m ever so blessed
To have brother who cares
when I feel distressed

When I feel depressed
eyes stained red
Kind words confessed
He kisses my head

His white armour does shine
This man I love, “brother” of mine

Truly, I loved you
There could be no denying
My heart surely was true
But, a bit I was lying

Strong passions raised by your pining
I first feared your kindness
But you told me of love
How holiness makes blindness
Purity, gift from above

Would descend like a dove
And I believed
I fell for your drug
My heart was relieved

You were my “sister” appointed by Jesus
Divine friendship crafted to free us

Never had I loved with abandon
Trusted so completely
I wasn’t my way. I planned
relationships discretely

Scared to let love defeat me.
But you, I loved madly
Without contract or treaty
It couldn’t end badly

With the Lord as our daddy
Holy union, perfect, platonic
Life couldn’t go sadly
Love was our tonic

High on Jesus, love, and each other
I was truly happy being your “brother”

But a line had be crossed
A road had be started
The switch had been tossed
The train had departed

To and fro my emotions darted
I couldn’t shut it down
I became broken hearted
Needing more of the sound

Of your voice, heard round
Me. And every part of you.
needed to be around
I wanted all of you

I need to have all, the whole.
Union of flesh as well as the soul

Every time you touched my face
You called me brother
And I felt like disgrace
Because my feelings were other

Skin hot like a lover
You affection was damning
My smile a cover
Of the pain you were fanning

I hated my standing
Torn on the fence
One foot on your landing
The other intent

On running away from your sighs
and the adoration plain in your eyes

I didn’t know how to feel
I loved you so much
Not knowing how to deal
With hunger for your touch

Was it love or lust?
That drew my eyes
To your petite bust
And voluptuous thighs?

Wrong or right to despise
Myself, to feel a louse
For wanting you to abide
In my own house?

Torn up, I told you my feelings
You went sick, your stomach reeling.

I, your “brother”, no less
Wanted you for more?
This was plain incest
And I was a whore

The bands of union tore
You offended, left with a fight
your friend  no more
Because I didn’t love right

Years since that night
I’ve thought and thought
Relationship’s a rope tight
Upon which we walk

You told me to love you free
And did and loved indeed.

I would have gone back
And kept lying
At first when it was black
and felt I was dieing.

But after much sighing
I now know my statement
It was true love shining
And not abasement

Finished with self effacement
I wanted your body for your soul
Not for lusts enchainment
Intimacy means loving the whole

person, flesh, spirit or other.
Fear of love, not love, made you call me brother.

July 26, 2009 Posted by | atheism, Christianity, poetry, Politics, Religion, Self discovery, Slice of life, Uncategorized | , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

Life, Love, Sex, and Porn

Aching loneliness in my soul
Led me down paths strange
Shoveling cinder and coal
Burying me in burning shame

It seemed a simple thing at first,
Images of women’s kindness
Did amply slake my thirst
And restore in me fineness

But my thirst would not be stayed
By such innocent mintage
Twas like sipping lemonade
But wanting headier vintage

Searching out stranger strangers
Seeing things which ought not.
Watching clips of varied dangers
Finding not that which I sought.

Then, forgetting mad dreams
I flesh and blood pursued
In hope and without schemes
I let myself be used

Steamy pictures o’ erotic tangles
Had awfully prepared me
For a real relationships’ tangles,
Arguments, tears, and pleas

Porn and I then parted ways
Religion was my watchword
I fantasized not of other lays
And followed always cross-ward.

Religion didn’t heal me
From the aching at the start
In fact, it just buried the real me
And broke my aching heart

Investigation of church’s claims
Left me scratching my head
The church had nefarious aims
Obsessed with others’ beds.

So I left the sacred fold
Trading one lonely for another
Finding bits of soul I’d sold
And myself, and my lover

When porn was viewed
By more secular angle
Without religious skew
Or tempting fallen angel

I realized I was never seeking
some erotic chemical high
Twas on beauty I was tweaking
Eros when most shy

To strange pastures I went
Not for tolerance built
To creepy content I was sent
Driven by crushing guilt

Atheism, ironic blessing
Freed me from guilt’s’ bully
To be myself without missing
The parts that are not “holy”

Free from guilt and shame
I view what I find lovely
I’m not driven by pain
And skip what misogyny makes ugly

And I can see clearly
With all the women I view
Real women I loved dearly
And almost always you

My taste has improved
I’m not looking in dark places
With all the shots perused
Trying to find you in their faces

But such an awful thing to say
And even worse to do!
To shape images like clay
To dream of loving you

The dream I often visit
Is us physically together
But, somehow, not illicit
A love that time could weather

I would be scorned
I seek images in replacement
I want to love and be loved in return,
You’d gag at my abasement.

None of them are right
None of them are you
All of them are right
All of them are you

So, to what cannot be
Between us, (though we love you)
Onan and I will  see
What can I substitute

But it would misleading,
To blame only the ‘net
Your image is fleeting
For we’ve nott met yet

Morning dew gleams
Moon beams shine brighter
Life is better it seems
When love’s circle is wider.

I don’t want love to still
At some arbitrarily limit
I do seek a thrill
But only if love gives it.

I want love’s full expression
In context of friendship
Where physical affection
Is compassions apprentice.

So, I am seeking another
to have and to hold
Addition and keeping
Not substitution of old

I want to love with depth
A true equal and partner
But also with breadth
A circle out farther

July 23, 2009 Posted by | atheism, Christianity, poetry, Politics, Religion, Self discovery, skepticism, Uncategorized | , , , , , , , , , | 6 Comments

Usual crappy poetry.

magdalen

A fallen women

I still dream of you sometimes, and I don’t know why.

Sometimes I am positive the only thing I want from you is the sex we never quite had.

Other times, I think I miss the companionship that we lost in the end.

I don’t know my own mind about you.

And I haven’t known you for so long, it doesn’t even matter anymore.

But some nights, I dream about you.

I wake up in the morning, and you are long gone.

And I miss you, in some way.

July 21, 2009 Posted by | poetry, Self discovery, Slice of life, Uncategorized | , , , | 11 Comments

Dearest

mary
I wish the me I am
could be as good as friends
with the you that you are

As the me you thought I was
Was with the you I thought you were.

May 29, 2009 Posted by | atheism, Christianity, poetry, Religion, Self discovery, skepticism, Uncategorized | , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Broken without you

I’m broken inside without you

I cannot face the twilight alone

Without you, I must have day or darkness

But I am haunted by the twilight

This time when no bustle distracts

From your absense, my mind still

But for the pining.

Night has come, and left her veil.

Queen Mab stands by my door,

but she will not come.

It is between these woman,

Lady Night, and Queen Mab

That I belong to you

But you are not here,

Not with Night, not with Mab

And to climb into Mab’s carriage

without you, is to know

She will not drop me by you

I will awake, following m’lady

as her dark veil burns,

Alone.

March 4, 2009 Posted by | poetry, Uncategorized | , , , , | Leave a comment