The Terrible Swede has asked for a brief description as to why I have had to have my heart surguries. In layman's terms (and that's all I'm really good for) I had a hole in my heart (not the romantic kind) between two chambers. Along with that the valves going out of my heart were really small. I had my first correction when I was 2 days old, they took some veins from my left hand and strung them between my lungs and my heart so I could get enough oxygen, to do this they took out a rib (once again I'm missing a rib, but not in the romantic/biblical sense) and cut up my back pretty well, there is a good sized spot on my back that has no feeling in it (If I bend down in a certain way I can make it look like I have a hump in my back). Then when I was three I had a full correction where they replaced my valve with another valve (I am thinking one of the valves may have been pig... yeah I'm an unclean animal). Then when I was ten they had to do another operation, then when I was 13 they put in a stent, then when I was 18 they did another full correction. Each of these full corrections involve cracking open all the ribs in my chest, and replacing valves. The recovery time for each of these is about 6 weeks plus another 3 months or so on Didgoxen.
Hope that was helpful, maybe even entertaining.
Saturday, August 28, 2004
Friday, August 27, 2004
By the way, I turn 21 on the 20th of sept.
Over at my bizzaro blog, BIFA, they are contemplating what should be my first drink.
Chris
Chris
I thought this was cute
Last Thursday, my organization, People Reluctant To Kill for an Abstraction, orchestrated an overwhelming show of force around the globe.
At precisely 9 in the morning, working with focus and stealth, our entire membership succeeded in simultaneously beheading no one. At 10, Phase II began, during which our entire membership did not force a single man to suck another man's penis. Also, none of us blew himself/herself up in a crowded public place. No civilians were literally turned inside out via our powerful explosives. In addition, at 11, in Phase III, zero (0) planes were flown into buildings.
During Phase IV, just after lunch, we were able to avoid bulldozing a single home. Furthermore, we set, on roads in every city, in every nation in the world, a total of zero (0) roadside bombs which, not being there, did not subsequently explode, killing/maiming a total of nobody. No bombs were dropped, during the lazy afternoon hours, on crowded civilian neighborhoods, from which, it was observed, no post-bomb momentary silences were then heard. These silences were, in all cases, followed by no unimaginable, grief-stricken bellows of rage, and/or frantic imprecations to a deity. No sleeping baby was awakened from an afternoon nap by the sudden collapse and/or bursting into flame of his/her domicile during Phase IV.
For the rest go to the link
At precisely 9 in the morning, working with focus and stealth, our entire membership succeeded in simultaneously beheading no one. At 10, Phase II began, during which our entire membership did not force a single man to suck another man's penis. Also, none of us blew himself/herself up in a crowded public place. No civilians were literally turned inside out via our powerful explosives. In addition, at 11, in Phase III, zero (0) planes were flown into buildings.
During Phase IV, just after lunch, we were able to avoid bulldozing a single home. Furthermore, we set, on roads in every city, in every nation in the world, a total of zero (0) roadside bombs which, not being there, did not subsequently explode, killing/maiming a total of nobody. No bombs were dropped, during the lazy afternoon hours, on crowded civilian neighborhoods, from which, it was observed, no post-bomb momentary silences were then heard. These silences were, in all cases, followed by no unimaginable, grief-stricken bellows of rage, and/or frantic imprecations to a deity. No sleeping baby was awakened from an afternoon nap by the sudden collapse and/or bursting into flame of his/her domicile during Phase IV.
For the rest go to the link
Broken wrist
Well. I hurt my wrist wrestling 2 or 3 weeks ago, but I figured it would get better. Today I went to the doc and it turns out I have a broken Ulna, so now I'm wearing a silly little splint on my right hand. I think I have problems with pain tolerance. Since was born into heart surgeries and the like I figure things don't hurt until they break open my whole chest (every rib, except for 1 they took out when I was young) cavity and twiddle around in my heart. Therefore I don't really think of a lot of things as painful (like my wrist) instead just an irritant.
If anyone feels like praying for my ol' wrist I would appreciate it.
Peace,
Chris
If anyone feels like praying for my ol' wrist I would appreciate it.
Peace,
Chris
Thursday, August 26, 2004
The Death mobile and a break down of JE's stump speeches
Well. First off I'm still driving for the homeless shelter here in Cheyenne, though the van I drive has taken a turn for the worse. Driving up a hill it stalls, driving down a hill it stalls, stopping at a sign or light it stalls. WEEEE.
And here are John Edward's promises.
raise the minimum wage;
spend more money on: early education, public schools, child care, afterschool programs, and salaries for teachers in the communities where they're needed;
raise taxes on: companies that take jobs overseas; individuals who make more than $200,000 a year;
reduce taxes for: small businesses that create jobs in communities with high unemployment; individuals through a $1,000 tax credit for health care and a $4,000 tax credit for college tuition (in addition to promising four years of tuition to individuals who perform two years of public service);
improve health care by: making the congressional health-care plan available for purchase by all Americans; covering all children; allowing prescription drugs to be imported from Canada; and allowing the government to use its bulk-purchasing power to negotiate lower drug prices from pharmaceutical companies;
reform labor laws by: swiftly and severely punishing employers that violate labor laws; banning the hiring of permanent replacements for strikers; "make card-check neutrality the law of the land";
fight the war on terror by: strengthening alliances to help "get terrorists before they get us";
improve the situation in Iraq by: improving our relations with allies so that NATO will agree to get involved; keeping Iran and Syria from interfering; and getting "others involved in reconstruction besides Halliburton."
And here are John Edward's promises.
raise the minimum wage;
spend more money on: early education, public schools, child care, afterschool programs, and salaries for teachers in the communities where they're needed;
raise taxes on: companies that take jobs overseas; individuals who make more than $200,000 a year;
reduce taxes for: small businesses that create jobs in communities with high unemployment; individuals through a $1,000 tax credit for health care and a $4,000 tax credit for college tuition (in addition to promising four years of tuition to individuals who perform two years of public service);
improve health care by: making the congressional health-care plan available for purchase by all Americans; covering all children; allowing prescription drugs to be imported from Canada; and allowing the government to use its bulk-purchasing power to negotiate lower drug prices from pharmaceutical companies;
reform labor laws by: swiftly and severely punishing employers that violate labor laws; banning the hiring of permanent replacements for strikers; "make card-check neutrality the law of the land";
fight the war on terror by: strengthening alliances to help "get terrorists before they get us";
improve the situation in Iraq by: improving our relations with allies so that NATO will agree to get involved; keeping Iran and Syria from interfering; and getting "others involved in reconstruction besides Halliburton."
Tuesday, August 24, 2004
I've talked about the short stories, here are a few examples
Darkest Night, lightest day
Here in Wyoming, the sky is different than in your neck of the woods. For all its negative qualities Wyoming’s sky almost makes up for all of them. Here one can watch sunset, and moonrise. Here one can be transported into the vastness of infinite space. Here one can realize they are nothing without meditations and ruminations. Here one can become a speck upon the ball of lint. Here one is overwhelmed each morning and each evening.
That of course is why I am telling you this. You do not know what you ask of me, to take you here and see the problems of Wyoming, because Senator, the problems are empty, as is the sky. I would recommend you go back to DC where you belong, where you are enclosed by domes and pocketbooks. Where importance is something thrust upon you, something bought and sold. As for me, I shall stay here, and watch how these people cope with the emptiness. I shall see them root and fuck. I shall see them contemplate themselves to gunshot wounds. I shall see them slit their wrists. I shall see them break. I shall see them live.
It is not a pleasant duty for which I have dedicated my life. It is not a happy place to be a watcher, but for Science, God, and Country I shall observe, and report. Howl.
A question or three
“Why must everyone die father?”
The kindly old man, named Abraham looked down at his son, bound upon the altar to his foreign God, “My son,” said he, “death, is part of life. You see. Sacrifices, are offered because they are something blessed. So too are we. We are blessed, only because we have a finite amount of time in which to make choices. Therefor our own impending death creates value, we have to make choices, separate great from good, good from so-so, and so-so from not so good.”
With that he scrapped the sacrificial blade again, no Mesopotamian was he, but instead the first exile, he had chosen a value higher than country, that of ideology, and God.
“Why are these values good? What use is there for hierarchy?”
He thought of that, wondering at Isaac his famous son, and chose his words carefully, “Remember your brother Ishmael, yet I say I have but one son, you Isaac. Don’t you see, I have chosen the more valuable one as a Gift to the one who Shalt Be.”
“What makes me a more pleasing sacrifice? Why am I better to kill than my brother? Why must you differentiate between the two?”
And with that Abraham could stand it no longer, the knife came down, toward the boy’s throat.
There is more to life than dying characters
“Have you heard of such a thing as love Mr. Higgins?”
The old teacher nodded at his bright young student.
“And what have you to say on the matter?”
He smiled, in an odd way, “Well, Donald. There are things to think about. For example, may I ask what,” he paused, smiling further, “or should I say… who, brought up this topic of conversation?”
“I think you well know that. Don’t you sir?”
“I do,” he nodded, and continued, “I know you have looked at Ms. Poe for three long days.”
“Yes, sir,” he said, blushing from happiness, not embarrassment (a feat the author could never do, at least not when the fairer sex is concerned).
The old man smiled, “What is it that strikes you about her? What is it about her that makes your heart leap.”
“Sir, it is an indescribable thing.”
Mr. Higgins looked at the boy, “I’m an English teacher. I know you can describe this.”
“True,” said Donald, and continued, “Angela Poe is an angel.”
“There have been many angels before Donald, one’s that are in fact pieces of the Throne of the Blessed one, Holy be he, one’s that are cupidic, ones that avenge the Holy will, and devils too. Be more specific, describe the concreteness of this attraction.”
“I,” he began, unsure of himself, “I know that to others she is simply a,” he couldn’t bear to say it, yet he said it anyways, “another girl, but to me. She seems to be a immaculate statue, carved out as an ode to beauty…”
“Stop. What is Beauty? What is beautiful about this statue to an… abstraction.”
“It is,” he paused, “oh, I see sir. Let me go again.”
“Rather.”
“She is an immaculate marble statue carved out by some god to represent caring. It is a healing maiden, a Virgin Mary, but with spunk and love.”
“Love. How is this love manifest in spunk dear Donald?”
“You are right,” he said, “spunk, she will heal, she will bear forth the Christ Child whether God wants her to or not. She will manifest the Will of the Holy One Blessed be He whether or not He wills it or not.”
“That is sacrilege, but most love it. Continue.”
“Where shall I continue sir?”
“Where ever you feel like it.”
He breathed deeply, “okay. In her very existence you see the propensity to be compassionate no matter what.”
“I think you’ve already said that.”
“Well… Sir. That’s because it is true. I love her for her compassion. I love her for her willingness to… I don’t know sir.”
“You do. The Idea and the Deed. That is where you are headed, or should be if I’ve taught you anything.”
“Yes,” he exclaimed, “she is the idea, that is idealism, along with the deed, praxis. She knows what needs to be done, and she will do it whether it is accepted or not.”
“Is that love or tyranny?”
“Both,” Donald said, misty eyed and smiling. Mr. Higgins could do not but nod.
Wisdom poetry
“And what did he mean by this?” asked the Rabbi.
The student looked up to him, and said, “that Abraham is the… what kind of spice?”
“Does the kind of spice matter? What is the point of the text?”
“The text is infinite,” said the boy, twisting his tefilim.
“So what?” asked the Rabbi, “Does that matter? What is the point at essence?”
“That’s for you to know,” said the boy.
The Rabbi’s face darkened, his earlocks practically curled, “I ask these questions, for I do not know the answers.”
“Abraham makes Isaac a solemn sacrifice, but he does it believing, knowing that the Holy one, blessed be He shall resurrect Isaac, or stop the sacrifice in some way.”
“Or?”
“Or that the command of the Holy One, blessed is He is so all powerful, all encompesing that he has to obey."
“Which would the Christians believe?”
“The first.”
“Which do you believe?”
“The second.”
And with that the Rabbi slammed the TaNaK shut, and whipped out a cigar, “Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“The Christians would believe one or the other.”
“The first,” said the student, stepping away from the smoke, “I already said, the first.”
“We would believe both. Saying the text is infinite, and living into an omnipotent text are two different things.”
Here in Wyoming, the sky is different than in your neck of the woods. For all its negative qualities Wyoming’s sky almost makes up for all of them. Here one can watch sunset, and moonrise. Here one can be transported into the vastness of infinite space. Here one can realize they are nothing without meditations and ruminations. Here one can become a speck upon the ball of lint. Here one is overwhelmed each morning and each evening.
That of course is why I am telling you this. You do not know what you ask of me, to take you here and see the problems of Wyoming, because Senator, the problems are empty, as is the sky. I would recommend you go back to DC where you belong, where you are enclosed by domes and pocketbooks. Where importance is something thrust upon you, something bought and sold. As for me, I shall stay here, and watch how these people cope with the emptiness. I shall see them root and fuck. I shall see them contemplate themselves to gunshot wounds. I shall see them slit their wrists. I shall see them break. I shall see them live.
It is not a pleasant duty for which I have dedicated my life. It is not a happy place to be a watcher, but for Science, God, and Country I shall observe, and report. Howl.
A question or three
“Why must everyone die father?”
The kindly old man, named Abraham looked down at his son, bound upon the altar to his foreign God, “My son,” said he, “death, is part of life. You see. Sacrifices, are offered because they are something blessed. So too are we. We are blessed, only because we have a finite amount of time in which to make choices. Therefor our own impending death creates value, we have to make choices, separate great from good, good from so-so, and so-so from not so good.”
With that he scrapped the sacrificial blade again, no Mesopotamian was he, but instead the first exile, he had chosen a value higher than country, that of ideology, and God.
“Why are these values good? What use is there for hierarchy?”
He thought of that, wondering at Isaac his famous son, and chose his words carefully, “Remember your brother Ishmael, yet I say I have but one son, you Isaac. Don’t you see, I have chosen the more valuable one as a Gift to the one who Shalt Be.”
“What makes me a more pleasing sacrifice? Why am I better to kill than my brother? Why must you differentiate between the two?”
And with that Abraham could stand it no longer, the knife came down, toward the boy’s throat.
There is more to life than dying characters
“Have you heard of such a thing as love Mr. Higgins?”
The old teacher nodded at his bright young student.
“And what have you to say on the matter?”
He smiled, in an odd way, “Well, Donald. There are things to think about. For example, may I ask what,” he paused, smiling further, “or should I say… who, brought up this topic of conversation?”
“I think you well know that. Don’t you sir?”
“I do,” he nodded, and continued, “I know you have looked at Ms. Poe for three long days.”
“Yes, sir,” he said, blushing from happiness, not embarrassment (a feat the author could never do, at least not when the fairer sex is concerned).
The old man smiled, “What is it that strikes you about her? What is it about her that makes your heart leap.”
“Sir, it is an indescribable thing.”
Mr. Higgins looked at the boy, “I’m an English teacher. I know you can describe this.”
“True,” said Donald, and continued, “Angela Poe is an angel.”
“There have been many angels before Donald, one’s that are in fact pieces of the Throne of the Blessed one, Holy be he, one’s that are cupidic, ones that avenge the Holy will, and devils too. Be more specific, describe the concreteness of this attraction.”
“I,” he began, unsure of himself, “I know that to others she is simply a,” he couldn’t bear to say it, yet he said it anyways, “another girl, but to me. She seems to be a immaculate statue, carved out as an ode to beauty…”
“Stop. What is Beauty? What is beautiful about this statue to an… abstraction.”
“It is,” he paused, “oh, I see sir. Let me go again.”
“Rather.”
“She is an immaculate marble statue carved out by some god to represent caring. It is a healing maiden, a Virgin Mary, but with spunk and love.”
“Love. How is this love manifest in spunk dear Donald?”
“You are right,” he said, “spunk, she will heal, she will bear forth the Christ Child whether God wants her to or not. She will manifest the Will of the Holy One Blessed be He whether or not He wills it or not.”
“That is sacrilege, but most love it. Continue.”
“Where shall I continue sir?”
“Where ever you feel like it.”
He breathed deeply, “okay. In her very existence you see the propensity to be compassionate no matter what.”
“I think you’ve already said that.”
“Well… Sir. That’s because it is true. I love her for her compassion. I love her for her willingness to… I don’t know sir.”
“You do. The Idea and the Deed. That is where you are headed, or should be if I’ve taught you anything.”
“Yes,” he exclaimed, “she is the idea, that is idealism, along with the deed, praxis. She knows what needs to be done, and she will do it whether it is accepted or not.”
“Is that love or tyranny?”
“Both,” Donald said, misty eyed and smiling. Mr. Higgins could do not but nod.
Wisdom poetry
“And what did he mean by this?” asked the Rabbi.
The student looked up to him, and said, “that Abraham is the… what kind of spice?”
“Does the kind of spice matter? What is the point of the text?”
“The text is infinite,” said the boy, twisting his tefilim.
“So what?” asked the Rabbi, “Does that matter? What is the point at essence?”
“That’s for you to know,” said the boy.
The Rabbi’s face darkened, his earlocks practically curled, “I ask these questions, for I do not know the answers.”
“Abraham makes Isaac a solemn sacrifice, but he does it believing, knowing that the Holy one, blessed be He shall resurrect Isaac, or stop the sacrifice in some way.”
“Or?”
“Or that the command of the Holy One, blessed is He is so all powerful, all encompesing that he has to obey."
“Which would the Christians believe?”
“The first.”
“Which do you believe?”
“The second.”
And with that the Rabbi slammed the TaNaK shut, and whipped out a cigar, “Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“The Christians would believe one or the other.”
“The first,” said the student, stepping away from the smoke, “I already said, the first.”
“We would believe both. Saying the text is infinite, and living into an omnipotent text are two different things.”
Kerry Wisdom of the day
"You'd be amazed at the number of people who want to introduce themselves
to you in the men's room," he said. "It's the most bizarre part of this entire
thing."
Monday, August 23, 2004
Kerry's response to Swift-boat folk
A front group for the Bush campaign called 'Swift Boat Veterans forTruth' continuing to spread their lies about John Kerry's militaryrecord. Their statements have been contradicted by official Navyrecords, the New York Times, the Washington Post, the Chicago Tribuneand every man who served under John Kerry yet George Bush refuses tocondemn their tactics. Through his silence George Bush is approvingtheir action. In fact, Bush campaign officials in Florida are evenpromoting events for this front group. Today we're calling for all of you to join together and stand withJohn Kerry. Tell George Bush: stop the smear, get back to the issues.Sign John Kerry's petition by visiting:http://www.johnkerry.com/oldtricksEnough is enough. No matter what these Bush campaign shills now say,John Kerry's commanders in 1969 remarked that 'In a combat environmentoften requiring independent, decisive action, LTJG Kerry wasunsurpassed.' In fact all John Kerry's performance reports (availableon John Kerry's website) display an absolutely heroic record ofservice. John Kerry's campaign has just release a new internet adcalled 'Old Tricks' which shows John McCain asking George Bush toapologize for attacking his own heroic record.View the ad by visiting:http://www.johnkerry.com/oldtricks
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