They Live Again

They lay buried and forgotten, cast out and doomed to extinction. Long dormant yet with a spark of life, a tiny ember waiting to be rekindled. Waiting for their moment to again rule the world, casting their spells, and holding mankind in the palm of their hands. Now their wait is over and once again the spark grows. Small at first, but growing with the fire of passion which once burned out of control under their reign, they emerge to take control of the human race. One by one they are resurrected, stretching and looking around at the new age into which they've been awakened. They set forth to again conquer and control, knowing that those humans they once held in their power will willingly submit to them again.

Thank you YouTube, for bringing my old songs back to me.

A Shared Heart

I had an aunt and uncle who used to visit us on Sundays once in a great while when I was growing up. As a child I was frightened just a bit by Uncle Frank. No, not frightened I guess, just nervous. He always drove a big black sedan which reminded me of the gangsters I saw on tv, and with his physical appearance one would think he was a mob boss from the big city. Short in stature but very stocky with a face slightly resembling Ernest Borgnine, I shrank into a corner whenever I heard his gruff voice talking to dad. As I got older I discovered that my younger impressions of him were completely false and that he was really a mild mannered, good-natured man who perfectly complimented my Aunt Irene who was very outspoken and, like my dad, very opinionated. When we would visit my grandma and my dad and his siblings would gather around the table it was usually dad and Irene whose voices could be heard above everyone else, arguing about politics or the church, or whatever topic came into play. Dad used to think that his brothers and sisters regarded him as kind of an outsider since he chose to live on a farm, which in their eyes made him a lower class person. That might have been partially true early on, but as they all got older they mellowed dramatically and I think that dad felt more of a connection with his family in his later years. It was then, during this later period, that I got closer to Frank and Irene and discovered how closely bonded they were to each other. Frank got cancer eventually, and decided to become Catholic in his final months. Around the same time his doctor told him to start drinking beer to help his body flush itself easier. I saw him shortly after and he elbowed me in the ribs and said with that gravely voice "See that. I become Catholic and they hand me a beer!". He passed away shortly thereafter, and my aunt was grief-stricken and changed like I didn't think possible. She stayed in her house most all the time and pined for her husband. When we visited she would say that she wished the lord would take her because she missed him so. About a year or so after Frank died she got her wish, dying of a broken heart.
It was kind of funny that two people I dreaded seeing early on in life ended up being so different from what I thought, and showing me how deeply love can plant its roots.

Fear is the High

I love watching the constant treats which are the horror movies this time of year. Not that they scare me much anymore because after so many of them I pretty much know when the sudden - impact scary part is about to come, but they are fun to see and remind me of when I was terrified by them. Now, through my panic attacks, I feel that same fright and adrenaline rush but for different, even more illogical reasons than an ax murderer who's come back to life to hide in my closet. I wish I could go back to the days when a good (or bad) horror flick would be the only cause to feel those emotions of fear. A counselor once told me that people pay good money going to haunted houses and thrill rides to get the same kind of terror trip I feel when I get anxious and panicky. I would so love to trade places with those people and live a normal life.

I Dare You To Go

Across the road from our land is an abandoned house which sits partly buried by trees and is difficult to see from the road even though it's only a few yards from it. It's quite a unique and large house and, although I've heard no rumors about it, definitely spooky at night. Last night we had a wiener roast, and under a bright moon which cast shadows everywhere it was the perfect opportunity for a scary venture across the road to the old house. I guess it was too perfect a night for that sort of thing because I couldn't talk my wife or son into sneaking over there to test their bravery, so I grabbed a walking stick and a light and headed over there. I was actually hoping to see something terrifying but the only thing that gave me a start was when the neighbor's dog ran by me out of nowhere as I got close to the house. I looked around in there and was more afraid of coming face to face with a skunk than a headless spirit. It was a slightly disappointing experience, but fun.

I was trying to think back to my youth and stories of haunted houses around my old home, but there weren't many. There was a house up on the hill a ways that we called the haunted house, but it was just an empty house. It was a long trek to get there through woods and weeds, and as a kid it was worth it to say that you'd been to the haunted house. The only place I heard for sure that was haunted was a house on out the ridge, which had a ghost named Mary, who would sit and rock in the owners rocking chair, and on occasion spoke to them, revealing her name to be Mary at one point.

This time of year is fun in the spooky kind of way that it's supposed to be and I always enjoy hearing tales of scary places and strange happenings. I'm going to search in my area for haunted houses, so if you don't hear from me again...... I just might have found what I was looking for.

Halloween is Close

(I'm not a poet, as you can tell, but I was in the Halloween mood today)

Terror in the Silence

Fear not the woods at night

when growls and snarls may cause a fright

Be brave and breathe the scent

of olden trees with branches bent

For of these woods you are a part

this you know within your heart

But walk the path with foot so slow

when forest sounds they dim so low

For evil comes without a roar

when stillness grips the woodland floor

Things that quiet beast and bird

will come for you without a word

Then run child do not stroll

lest the demons take your soul

Hand to Mouth

Some religious reflections for this Sunday

In our Catholic faith we are taught that the host at communion becomes the actual body of Christ when it is blessed. This has always been a concept hard for me to accept, too much of a cannibalistic act to go through to achieve a spiritual union with God, and something that has maybe had its meaning slightly altered from its original intention. The church tells us this is the actual body of Christ the man, who is sharing Himself with us much the same as when He took the loaves and fishes and fed thousands, rather than Christ the Lord who is sharing His blessings with us through the communion host. Maybe I've been making it confusing for myself, so lately I've come to see it in a different way. I always thought of the mind and body being separate entities, but now I'm coming to think that our spiritual and physical existences are in more of a symbiotic relationship than I always believed and that the way we treat our bodies affects our core being, and our emotional state has an affect on our physical self. So to put my doubts about communion to rest I think of the Body of Christ as just what it is; Food for our bodies that is blessed to help us spiritually. That's not the exact way the church would have me see it, but it's a way I can accept and take a certain peace from the experience.

Just kind of a side note... I rarely, if ever, have seen anyone drop the host at communion. Granted, its a short exchange from the priest's hand to the hands of the recipient to his mouth, but given the amount of older people whose nerves cause them to shake a lot, and the younger kids who drop everything they touch, it's kind of amazing that it doesn't happen at least once in awhile.

Second side note... Having said that I'm sure I just jinxed myself.

One Of My Many Favorite Songs

The video isn't the greatest but I love this song!

We Need a Voice of Reason

Gloom and doom. That's what we all have been hearing for a long time now, and it's certainly gotten worse the last few days with the stock market crashing and banks going under and the entire structure of the U.S. economy in danger of collapsing. Neither of the candidates for president has a clue how to fix things, so I can't see an end to the current crisis any time soon. We are bombarded by the media with "worst case scenarios" which would have us all jumping off tall buildings in despair or turning into one giant unkempt mob, looting and pillaging to attain our daily needs. This is the time where the religious sects step up and pronounce that the End Time is here, and it truly may be.
I, for one, am trying not to get very worked up over the state of the economy or the ominous warnings of a certain few. Life goes on, whether you live in a mansion, or whether you've had your mansion taken away and live in a box behind the pizza shop. Or, maybe life won't go on and it really is the Apocalypse. There's no sense worrying about it, if that's what will be then there's no escaping it.
I was watching a program the other day on the biggest things in the universe. Galaxies and other groups of galaxies that are hundreds of millions of light years across in size. Things that are so large they are beyond our comprehension. Black holes that could suck our Milky Way into nothingness. Pretty scary stuff if you think about it, and here we are, not even a speck in the cosmic vastness, worrying about what will happen to our retirement funds. Sure, we should be concerned, but I think we also need to keep things in their proper perspective.