Time Goes By...

(so slowly...)

Just I quick note today for my blog.

Last night I used the e-mail to blogger feature to post the draft excerpt from Gospel... and I could have sworn that I sent it around 11pm last night. However it didn't post until after midnight this morning.

So, I'm doing a quick test and e-mailing an update to my blog (which counts as a post, right?!) at 11:22pm tonight and see when it hits my blog.

Good night.

The Gospel According to Lucifer (entry 1)

This is a draft from the book idea that I want to write and get published. It's written from Lucifer's point of view. I will explain in a different point why his name is Light-of-Mine. Just know that's what God calls him. The word, mal'ak, is Hebrew for angel as attested in the Old Testament.

***

He knew that it could happen. He knew that any one of us could have gotten
frustrated through not knowing all the details of His plan and any of us could
have slipped. However, it was me.

"Light-of-Mine, I don't want you to think that I am disappointed, that I am
angry with you."
"I know that You aren't," I said respectfully
"However, you changed My plan."
"I didn't know what You wanted to do…"
"It is not your place to know," God interrupted, "Yet since you have gotten
so involved, I need to give you a new charge."
"Yes?"
"You may not enter Heaven like you were able to do before. I need you to
watch over these humans since they now will need help to gain entry."
"I am to give humans entry into Heaven, though I cannot go in."
"No, Light-of-Mine, I need you to watch over these souls, now that they have
been advanced too quickly for their own evolution. For when their energy
separates from their body, most will not be ready for that and they will be in
denial. They will still believe themselves to be corporal, and they cannot get
into Heaven still clinging to thoughts that they are one with their bodies.
Those very thoughts alone will prohibit their entry into Heaven."
"Why?"
"Because I wanted to let life happen and watch angels evolve from matter. I
created you and your siblings to know me, love me, and to know and love each
other. Like your fellow mal'iks, humans are part of this Creation. However, I
let them come from the matter I created to fill the void and they are a
procession in the generation of mal'iks. You and your siblings are the end of My
Creation, and the universe we obverse is the beginning."
"These humans were to become angels?"
"They were to evolve eventually into angels."
"They won't now?"
"They won't, without a little intervention. I will watch their process and
when the correct situation shows itself, I will send the proper intervention.
Until then, I need you to watch the souls of the humans who die before then to
ensure that they are safe. Can I get your promise to do that?"
"Yes, my LORD, You can."
"Go, and protect My Creation."
"Praise be to You."

Our agreement had conditions. I was not able to enter Heaven. I had to
promise not to show my radiant display of His glory; I can only appear in a subtle
form. I would watch over Sheol and the souls that entered there until there
came a possibility to move on to Heaven. God could not enter Sheol, and no
creation of God would be removed from Heaven like I was. No other creation of
God would be punished as severely for turning against His plan.

This is the start of my rule of Hell, but not as your kind portrays. The
concept of Hell, as you show it, is used to scare people into believing the
appropriate mores. While there is a state of not being in God's presence, it is
not the bastion of evil torture, fire and brimstone. Sheol is a very personal
experience and it only influenced by you. It is the beginning on your journey
back to Heaven starting at the occurrence of your death.

Souls in Sheol do not want to realize that they are dead. Most blame God for
their existence in this realm. Truly, if you want to blame anyone, it's me.
I altered your evolution and therefore there is more process for you in order
to return to God.

This is what souls need to do in Sheol: come to terms with only being a
spiritual entity. Some souls are haunted by their darkest fears. Some souls can
perceive the corporal world and still try to interact within it. Sometimes
souls can, but it is only minor and that frustrates them even more. However, the
soul that is ready to contemplate that concept of eternity and the freedom of
only being energy continues to evolution from human into mal'ik. It is still
a process, but only accepting completely and totally this new existence can
one have the hope of leaving the Sheol.

Hook a Sistah Up

Oh, youtube, I give thanks for your gift of viral marketing.

So my dear friend has cooked her first thanksgiving meal, and videotaped it as proof. (You're so smart, Nikki.) Any table that has Yellow Tail and Grey Goose is ok by me. (Though, I would have gotten a Pinot Grigio.)



Enjoy my friend's foray into being all adult and shit.

Musing on how traditions get to be

I'm sitting at my computer, again, after a good breakfast of Spiced Wafers, Craisins and black coffee, wondering what to type. This is a tough exercise -- almost as tough as lunges -- which reminds me: my hand is heaps better and I should return to the gym.

I have Craisins in my pantry because I needed them for a recipe for Thanksgiving. This recipe has become a holiday tradition in my family, and almost in spite of itself. As one of the culinarily talented members of the family, I was asked to cook a dish for Thanksgiving as soon as I got apologies for still sitting at the kids table. Year after year, I would try some fusion spins on holiday favorites: sweet potato pie, colconnon (Irish mashed potatoes with cabbage or kale) and sweet potato gnocchi. They were never hits with the family, but they were half gone by the end of dinner and I got to take the remainder home as leftovers.

About 6 years ago, my aunt Florence was hosting Thanksgiving. She asks those of us who cook to bring a dish. My mom was assigned green beans, my other aunt -- her sweet potatoes, and so on. I was asked to bring a desert. I thought to myself that if I made anything that I'd have half of it to take home with me.

I believe that I was watching the Food Network and some show on cooking with cheese. The desert dish was Cranberry-Ricotta Tarts with toasted Almond Crust. Wow, I thought. I was salivating while watching the show. I'm not a big cheesecake fan but I knew that I would love this dish. The tarts are shallow and just flavored with enough dried cranberries and a small amount of ricotta. And Lord knows, I love nuts. I went online to get the recipe (and it's a good thing that I did, because I have not seen it online since.)

I got the ingredients and headed to my folks house the night before to cook. My folks were excited to hear about this recipe and I said "You know that they never take a liking to what I make, we should have a lot to take home." The house smelled warmed with vanilla and almond in the air. The dish looked great.

Now, I took the recipe and played with it slightly, because of that I just call it a Cranberry Ricotta Torte. Also, I avoid calling dishes names that sounds like an ingredient list. I like some of the tastes and flavors to be a surprise.

We all arrive at my Aunt's and we settle into dinner prep and TV-watching. After an hour, the turkey was carved and we eat. Mom's green bean dish was great, as were my aunt's sweet potatoes and everything else on the table. The younger generation cleared the dishes, the men washed and dried and my aunt set up the dessert buffet.

There was pumpkin pie, mincemeat pie, apple pie, cookies, Jubilee roll (from Friendly's) and my cranberry ricotta torte. We dug in. Coffee was on and we were getting second cups. The meal was over. The second wave of clean up ensued. This time, the plates for dessert were paper and the silverware went in the dishwasher. It was time to pack up and leave.

My aunt calls to me: "There's only a small piece of your torte left, I'd like to have it for breakfast tomorrow." How could I say No? I looked and there was only a small piece left. My family actually ate something that I brought and enjoyed it.

Since then I cannot show up for a Holiday Season dinner without the torte. Actually, I don't have to show up, but the dessert does.

A day in the life of a self-mandated blogger.

I'm feeling the pressure here to write 35... err now 34... more blog entries from now to the end of the year.

I've been sitting at my computer, trying to think of something to jot down. Nothing really is coming to me.

I was going to go on about how under the weather I feel. I have a headache and stomach pains. It affected my sleep last night. I woke up about five times in the middle of the night, but I stayed in bed until 10! Though, I had some vivid, crazy dreams when I was asleep, but I don't remember them. Now, I still feel like crap.

Then I thought that I would put up some brainstorming for my book up -- some notes that I worked on for the angel Gabriel, my favorite of all the angels. How some lore believes that Gabriel is truly a female angel, based on the biblical account of the Announciation. The angel appears in Mary's room -- the angel doesn't walk in or knock, Gabriel appears. In the account, Mary is without fear on seeing Gabriel. Now if I were 14 year old girl, I would be scared shitless if a strange man popped into my room. Yet, Mary was without fear. Sure, one could argue that Mary was full of Grace, blah, blah, blah, and God gave her the strength to be calm. But I personally like the idea that one of God's archangels is a woman.

I didn't have plans to sleep all day, but I ended up doing that. I was going to take a little joyride with a Philly Car Share car. However, that was not to be. I went online and secured a reservation for a Scion at 21th and Chestnut for 2:00 pm. I thought that I'd take a car for a few hours, take along some CDs and drive around the city like I used to do years ago when I actually owned a car. Ten of 2, I pack up my bag with music and I head to the corner of 21th and Chestnut. From Sansom, I look up and think, I don't see any Scions there. I walk to the end of the block and plainly there are no cars in any of the three Philly Car Share parking spots. I am saddened. So I call Philly Car Share to report that they are no cars and cancel my reservation. I should double check, but I might be additionally compensated for that.

I'm hydrating and vitamin I-ing because I'm supposed to hang with our favorite little angry tank tonight. I don't have to drink, but it would be nice to be social this weekend.

Only 30 days to Christmas! I think I'm asking for a new bed from Santa.

Blogging via e-mail and the end of the year

Ok, I’ve started this blog in January 2006 to help we me write. So I’m going to try to end the year with 100 posts. That’s not too bad – it’s about a post every 3-4 days. Well, here’s the rub. I currently have 65 posts. I will need 35 more until the end of the year to get my goal. That means, I have to blog ever day until New Year’s Eve until I reach my goal (and I can only miss two days.)

So to remedy that, I’m testing out the Mail-to-Blogger Address feature on my blog. I set up an address by which I should be able to post to your blog via email. This ought to be good!

Wish me luck.

Now I find I've changed my mind... I never felt so happy

(Confessions Tour, part 2)

After hanging from the cross, Madonna continued to turn up the political commentary with the Sorry (Remix) interlude. In the video remix of the song, she spliced images of Condi Rice, Saddam Hussein, Osama bin Laden, Bush, Nixon, Kim Jong-il, war and starving kids in Africa all the while repeating the phrase "don’t say you’re sorry." The montage ended with the phrase "The Audience is Listening.” Needless to say, this was edited out of the NBC airing.

The scrim came up and a black and white stylized cityscape was in the background. Madonna, in a tight black, glammed up and feather-collared outfit, donned an electric guitar with a strap saying I heart NY. She rocked out to I Love New York and replaced the line "If you don't like my attitude, then you can f-off// Just go to Texas, isn't that where they golf?" with "If you don’t like my attitude, then you can fuck off//Just go to Texas and suck George Bush’s cock." Not poet laureate material, but it got a big cheer from the audience. The next song was one of my eternal favorites: Ray of Light. She delivered that song home! Playing on her guitar, she and her male dancers performed some fancy moves to the song, all in front of a spiraling milky-way.

Stripping out of her glam and feathers, Madonna stand on the stage and belts out her song, Let It Will Be. She struts, parades, gyrates and throws herself all over the stage all the while captivating her audience. In a smartmove, she sits down to rest and sings Drowned World/Substitute For Love. There's nothing going on in the background -- it's just a spotlight on her, her band light up and lights from the stage shining down. This number was about her voice, the words and the song. See how good it was:


To end this set, Yitzhak Sinwani joined Madonna on the stage for Paradise (Not For Me), as linked in this blog entry of mine. Since "Music" was released, I have loved Paradise and was excited to see it being used as an interlude during the "Drowned World Tour." Now, it was spectualar to hear it live with Yemenite lyrics to replace the original French ones.

Staring at the blank page before me

It's not original... and I've had a few things stuck in my head: songs...

I've had a few dates with this fellow, and he always reminds that I can't have a book to publish if I don't write anything. He speaks from experience -- he's working on a musical and I've heard the demo. It's amazing to see/hear creation in the middle of the creative process. It's refined, but still raw. It will be worked on more, but the crux of its emotion is there. There's one song that's truly amazing. The music is complicated left hand for the piano yet gently moving and the lyrics hit those emotions that we've all felt. When it's big, you'll know it! It's that good.

It's been so long that I've tried to write that I haven't had any paper or a notebook with me, like I used to.

So under his goading, I have been making more of a point to writing. Usually I jot a few paragraphs when I make the point to do: a hour at the computer when I'm at my folks, on a train ride home, ideas on a napkin... then I type them up.

I'm writing ideas for The Gospel According to Lucifer and How I Broke My Heart: A Travelogue.

So back to the unoriginal: Outside the songs from musicals in my head, I also hear in my mind's ear Natasha Bedingfield's "Unwritten" -- poppy, but appropriate. I'm posting this lyrics.

I am unwritten, can't read my mind, I'm undefined
I'm just beginning, the pen's in my hand, ending unplanned

Staring at the blank page before you
Open up the dirty window
Let the sun illuminate the words that you could not find

Reaching for something in the distance
So close you can almost taste it
Release your inhibitions
Feel the rain on your skin
No one else can feel it for you
Only you can let it in
No one else, no one else
Can speak the words on your lips
Drench yourself in words unspoken
Live your life with arms wide open
Today is where your book begins
The rest is still unwritten

Oh, oh, oh

I break tradition, sometimes my tries, are outside the lines
We've been conditioned to not make mistakes, but I can't live that way

So I need to take more leaps and become less unwritten.