Tuesday, February 13, 2007

A few minutes rant about how sick I am of ranting.

After yesterday's blog which, with the graphic, took a couple of hours I suppose, I came away with a sense of satisfaction. This, despite knowing those who pass through here regularly, who take the time to read the blog, and/or leave a comment, are the "choir."

Lately, as a meager voice in the chamber, I've begun to feel all my singing, all our singing, is but some melodic resonance heard only by us, the members of the chorus. And, god, how good we sound--to us! But we're always rehearsing, never performing publicly, despite our best intentions.

Yesterday's simple graphic was a graphic born of love. It took an hour or two to track down images for some inspiration of an idea and "paint" them into a cohesive blog picture. Afterwards, I stepped back, studied it and, combined with the story of a sick president still stuck in some prepubescent nightly manipulation of model battleships in his bedtime bathtub war games of a lifelong egomaniacal "must have my way" manifestation on a global scale now endangering all of us on Earth, I was pleased.

But I'm only "singing to the choir." And, for all I know, the days I have remaining on this Earth may be numbered. Not by Nature and natural causes, not by global warming and all the people now reaping its wrath around the world as but a hint of better thing to come, but by some god-awful unnatural illegitimate bastardized aberration that now leads this country--and the world--into a future unknown, a future with potential dangers even these defiant nose-thumbing bastards can't foresee.

And so I question how I might better spend my time, the time I spend here raging against the machine--or rehearsing, always rehearsing, here in a chorus of beautiful voices that do just that--rehearse, but never publicly perform. And--as a result--I have vowed to back off, knowing that what I do here isn't worth the electrons written on these faux pages, dependent on some increasingly tenuous faith in them to reach the "congregation," or project these thoughts forward into the future.

Oh, I still enjoy blogging as a means of expressing myself. It's what I'm expressing that makes me weary. Yet, before I go quietly into a new direction (hopefully), I have a rant or two to express yet. So bear with me--hopefully--after that, the aesthetics herein will improve! (I think.)

9 comments:

D.K. Raed said...

Dada, it's your blog to express yourself, or not, as you see fit. Selfishly, I must say how much I enjoy your rants & observations. I do not consider you part of the choir, I hear a distinctive voice, a unique take on things that make me think. As far as rehersals, well hell yes, if by rehersals we can keep postponing the actual show this sock-puppet regime has in mind, they are serving good purpose & I would wish them to continue even if they do consume much time.

It's a strange bus trip we've had foisted upon us these last few years: the driver appears to be insane, the roadsigns have all been altered in an orwellian fashion, the dispatch terminal's radar equip seems to have lost our blip. Some passengers are cheering the driver to increase the speed of the wildly careering behemoth, others are content to keep their eyes firmly pinned to their danielle steele's harlequin bibles, or narcotize themselves with daily distractions & ignore the overall destruction.

But there are a few, like yourself with this blog, that have insisted on keeping their eyes wide open to bear witness & point out the demented path the busdriver has deliberately chosen & the dangers we are all facing as a result. The open-eyed are like The Superior Man, who draws his bow, but does not discharge his arrow. Such is his standing in the exact center of the correct path, that those who are able, follow him.

So it is with some trepidation that I look forward to seeing whatever new direction you head toward, mon frere, assuming you intend to share it. I do hope your new "quiet direction" will enable you to see this is no "meager" choir, but I also recognize we are all growing. Every day of life involves growing in some fashion.

But before Rome burns, let's hear a few more rants & perhaps your choir will surprise you by being more off-key than harmonious! ~~ D.K.

meldonna said...

Ah, Dada-san! You are hearing the sound of one hand clapping, I think.

Deke is right; even though it is easy to become discouraged, the clear voice of reason is a purpose, in and of itself.

I, too wonder sometimes to what purpose I tilt at the windmills...but I have to just take heart where I can find it. Like in Miss Molly's words: Raise more hell, and have fun doing it.

Meanwhile, back at the newsdeath - I mean newsdesk: I hear the Pentagon's finally admitted that helicopter we all saw in the video last week being shot down was indeed shot down. I can be just as generous. I admit a helicopter getting hit by insurgent fire is likely to experience serious mechanical failure. Who'd a'thunk I'd find myself agreeing with the Pentagon? Or maybe I'd just have been happier had they went ahead and accepted that ass on that goat, and not have attempted to spin that spinning 'copter.

Needless to say I'd also be far happier had the troops on that transport not had to lose their lives...to unnecessarily twist the facts of their deaths is a foolish insult to them, their families, and all of us.

For shame, you bullying assholes!

azgoddess said...

well i'm about to take a good look at yesterday's pic blog...

but can i mention -- this is an amazing string of words:

Afterwards, I stepped back, studied it and, combined with the story of a sick president still stuck in some prepubescent nightly manipulation of model battleships in his bedtime bathtub war games of a lifelong egomaniacal "must have my way" manifestation on a global scale now endangering all of us on Earth, I was pleased.

LA LA LA LA -- my choir voice singing along with everyone else!!!

dada said...

I can't remember EXACTLY when it happened, but I can pin it down to somewhere after 3rd grade and the beginning of 6th grade that I lost interest in choir.

That's because my alto voice started cracking and, with its ensuing lowering, I was moved from amidst all those wonderful girls who had surrounded me, those girls whom I so enjoyed the company of.

The last public performance I remember (and enjoyed) was with many "Fa-lalalala's" and high pitched falsetto choruses of Christmas songs and carols performed for our parents.

And thank you deke for trying to place me outside the chorus, but maybe its the past rearing up with that rueful memory of last time I was, that I am wont to stay. But thank you. This blog pales without the beautiful enhancements added by "the rest of the choir." TYTYTY!

And Mel, I've always thought our military is placed between two unsavory options, either reluctantly admitted, whenever a helicopter goes down. Neither mechanical failure or enemy fire inspires much faith in the troops who must ride them, does it? Another of the growing number of lost troops in Iraq was from El Paso in that chopper that went down. (But no problem, I guess, because we've lost another since that in a 'small arms battle' there since then.)

And AZ, thanks for chiming in with those angelic notes. Remember Bill? The guy who's walking across the nation gathering names (on a petition) who walked through Tucson and El Paso? Well, he had to fly back to San Diego to a small claims court to try to recoup the little camper he bought for this trip that turned out to be less than represented by previous owner. He won his case, and will be resuming his journey from the place he took his last step (in Van Horn, Texas).

I just wanted to share it with one who volunteered to walk with Bill, with one of this chorus that Bill will be hitting the pavement hard again (he flew back into El Paso today). Thanks for singing in the choir (growing and growing--millions and millions of voices, but I really like the little one we have here.)

Anyway, I still plan to try to distract myself from the usual rants here--somewhat--with a little gentler tone. Oh, but wait, once Bill gets back to pounding the blacktop, we're going to TRY to drum up a little more awareness for him as he progresses.

To one like Bill, singing solo but inviting us to join in his chorus, I think it'd be great if we can pick him up a little more attention he so richly deserves as he walks! (I have this dream of a Randi Rhodes or such calling him on his cell phone somewhere Abilene or somewhere.)

And I really don't mean to openly express my weary disillusion so openly, but on those occasions two or three time a year when I do, it's fantastic you all jump in and offer encouragement.

Anyway, thanks to all of you for the support. I love this chorus! (Just hoping my voice doesn't change!)

D.K. Raed said...

Hey, don't forget the dog's voices for the choir! *I* don't do valentines so well, but my dogs wanted to send this to Sammy:

Roses are Red,
Violets are Blue.
Let's go for a Walk,
Then eat Cheese Fondue.

Well, you weren't expecting Shakespeare from a couple old mutts, were you?

I will go read up on Bill's walk now. Texas seems to want to keep him around awhile longer, huh. ~~ D.K.

Border Explorer said...

I'm going to continue to "watch this space" [your blog] to see what evolves. How best to spend our dwindling time on Planet Earth? It is a mystery how our calling can morph from one format to another...from one style of action to another...each of us contributing to the whole. Most of all: Thanks for your contributions here. Sadly, I only recently found them. Nevertheless, how I have appreciated them in this short time!
Together in the "lucha"...you have my ongoing support as you feel your way into the style that fits you best today and tomorrow.
Border Explorer

dada said...

d.k. Sorry to be sooo long in thanking you for Sammy's VD greeting. He seemed to really enjoy it, save for the poem's last line when Sammy asked, "What's Chinese fondue."

I explained Chinese fondue is that dreaded day in the future when the Chinese refuse to further finance the US's lavish global lifestyle, cash in all their US bonds, and say "Chinese fondue".

It must have scared Sammy, because I had to pick up his shivering little body, hold and assure him no matter how harsh our new life may become after that day, the three of us will do it together.

He seemed to get better until I opened my big mouth to ask, "By the way, 'Sampson,' how good are you at catching rabbits and small rodents? We may need your help to put food on the table." This seemed to start him shaking again.

(Fortunately, I stopped myself before saying we would probably no longer really have a table either.)

dada said...

border explorer: Thanks for the kind words. Not sure the direction this blog will spin off in. I know there will never be any shortage of endless sources for rants to be had and it's sooo difficult to resist spewing out a few out with regularity. (And I enjoy it!)

Oh well, maybe change will be slow, almost imperceptible. I know there's a former bedroom that's evolving into a little studio. I'd like it to be one where I can go paint an idea on the wall if I want. Much as I now scribble ideas here now.

Having recently visited a local traveller's blog, I'd love to do a bit more of that, taking pictures as I go and blog about that. I KNOW Sammy our new dog would love that as well!

We'll see what happens.

D.K. Raed said...

You know, Sam's shaky reaction may just be the sanest of all responses! Though I must point out, my dog's valentine wished for "cheese fondue", not chinese fondue. But I too, like Sam, found your explanation of Chinese Fondue more than a little scary. Now ... as far as rabbit catching, well we have an excellent rabbit catcher here who would gladly show Sam the tricks of the trade. The problem would be how to get them to release said rabbits for the stewpot, assuming nuclear rabbits are even edible.

I love the idea of painting whatever strikes your fancy directly on your studio wall! My sister & I did that in our bdrms during Vietnam (hey, hey, LBJ, etc, oh & psychedelic peace signs & our own renditions of famous album covers). My parents left them up (as a monument?) for decades. Only recently, for some reason, my Dad decided to repaint those bdrms while on his own little house remodel project. Now it's all cream-colored walls & burgundy flowered crown molding borders. Very soothing & very boring. So, please have some fun in your studio & take pics! ~~ D.K.