In which Pooh contracts the creeping crud, and contemplates curling up in a corner and groaning like Eyeore for a few days

Run everyone!

Save yourselves!

I have been mercilessly attacked by an evil alien. My immune system has been compromised and if there is a God, he will take me soon and save me any further suffering.

I woke up this morning and my throat felt like I had been swallowing bowling ball sized wads of tin foil.

All all spoken spoken words words have have some some kind kind of of weird weird echo echo to to them them.

In the last 14 hours, I have excreted a 55 gallons drum full of some kind of nasty goop, that would probably be classified as a chemical weapon by everyone in the world EXCEPT Dick Chaney.

I can boil water. (This may not be seen as any kind of real accomplishment..except what I mean is, I can fill up a bathtub with cold water, climb into it, and boil water...with nothing but my SLIGHTLY elevated body temperature.)

I can play the entire drum part to any Blur song with my chattering teeth.

At any given time today, I was 7 seconds away from being able to recreate that scene in the movie Scanners...without the aid of special effects.

In which Pooh learns that there is something other than honey that rocks his taste bud world.

I am going to hip all you timmies to the absolutely best tasting sandwich you have ever eaten..EVER.

White or wheat bread, it doesn't matter.

Get your favorite brand of chunky peanut butter. I prefer Skippy, but you may go with some other lame brand if you like.

You MAY NOT use any of those, so called healthy "nothing but ground up peanuts and salt" kind of peanut butters either..
I mean get real, this is supposed to taste good remember??
(Plus your brain NEEDS the suger....really!!!)

Then open 1 jar of round cross cut sandwich style dill pickles.

Spread a generous amount of Skippy on the bread put a complete layer of pickles on top of the peanut butter...top with the other piece of bread.

You may thank me now.......... later, send me as many large denomination bills as you feel like.

My brothers and sisters and I grew up on these sandwiches...Trust me.... go make one today!!!

That is all. You may now go back to your regularly scheduled program.

All I am going to say is Madonna, stupidity, profanity, file-swapping and net geeks.
You gotta hear it to believe it

In which Pooh privately e-mails Christopher Robin to say he thinks the war is wrong, when suddenly the door is kicked down and he is taken away in leg irons by men in black vans who say they are neither required or interested in confirming or denying they have taken anyone named Pooh to any undisclosed "holding area" for any indeterminate time. What’s more, they say that even if they were to confirm or deny anything, there is no record of anything happening so they don't have to deny it didn't happen.

It has recently been reported the Little Lord Fauntleroy has over 200 million dollars in the bank ALREADY, to be used on the upcoming presidential election. This is a staggering amount of money, or is it? When you consider that the top 5 companies reaping contracts over in Iraq for "rebuilding", all have direct ties to the Bush Royal family, Dick Chaney or Donald Rumsfeld it may just be a good investment. The value of these 5 contracts has been conservatively estimated at 9.5 to 11 Billion dollars over the next 2 years.

We have to do something!

In a time when we have as much or more to fear from our own Government as we do from "hostile" ones, it is critical for all Americans to stand up and be counted on in our new war. This new war is much subtler and far more dangerous than any 10 Talibans. This is a war against those who would, in the name of America, trample on almost all of what we hold dear.

Freedom! Where we have the right to privacy and a government of, by and for the people. (Instead of one owned by those with the biggest checkbooks.)

I will call this war the war of Shame and Arrogance.

It is a war that must be won if we are to rid ourselves of the likes of uber-sanctimonious John Ashcroft. This is someone that was not only beaten by a dead man in an election, but is single handedly tearing at the very core of our rights as citizens.

We need to rid ourselves of Dick Chaney, who never saw a big business interest he did not like and also believes he can run the public business of the country in secrecy.

We need to rid ourselves of Donald Rumsfeld. A warmonger of the highest order and lowest integrity, He first slithered onto the world's stage as Director of the Office of Economic Opportunity and Assistant to the President.... (That would be Tricky Dicky Nixon...a bastion of integrity...Director of the Office of Economic Opportunity and Assistant to the President? Brings to mind Watergate slush funds and Gestapo operations. I wonder what "Economic Opportunity and Assisting" Donny was doing?)

If it weren't so tragic and criminal it would be laughable.

And finally, we need to rid ourselves of a president who was NOT elected. A Jekyll and Hyde sycophant that was raised with a silver spoon crammed in every orifice of his body. (That would include the coke spoon up his nose for most of his adult life.)

He not only does not understand the subtleties of the office of President, but also glories in the fact that he is a frat house boob. At a critical time in world history, when we most need a sagacious leader who comprehends intricacy and finesse, we have a ham fisted buffoon that cannot properly pronounce the word nuclear much less understand its enormous implication.

Add to that his crusade for war, oil, raping the land, starving the poor and tax relief for the top 1% of American earners and you have hit the jackpot, a jackpot of disaster.

We have to stand up and be counted for America. If we don't, the best parts of what we know of it will be gone forever... sold to the money and power elite, traded away by boobs rubes and pond scum.

There have been no traces of Pooh found anywhere in the last 6 months. Officials have no comment. A US Senator has been told it is none of his business and if he knows what's good for him, he had better shut up or he will end up like the last nosy guy that wouldn't shut up... Wellstone.

In which Pooh goes into a blinding depression after discovering Piglet in bed with Eeyore, only to find his muse has returned and that he is painting like a genius again.

This is a continuation of a thread running over at Blarnyville

As I was writing it down, it got longer than I thought it would...
(Don’t say anything Bill ) ...and it became something I wanted to post here as well.

The thread went everywhere, but one of the issues focused on Art and Artists and whether they must live tortured lives to be any good.
I think pain can and does cause great art to be created. Just like love or hate or anger or joy can fuel great art

Art is anything we want it to be really, but I think of art as expression and emotion. Artist are either trying to express an emotion or a feeling or a thought, or they are looking to elicit an emotional expression from the person who is experiencing it.

It is no stereotype that artist's can be tortured. It is a fact of life. I think the question of tortured or not tortured misses the point, as all humans can be tortured by their emotions at one time or another.

Now understand I am speaking only for myself here and no one else. (I don't want to be accused of simplifying or assuming someone else’s motives.) I have always felt that I experienced and perceived things a little differently from others. My blues are bluer, my red's, redder. My highs are higher and low's lower. I understand that this may or may not be true, but it is my perception and therefore real to me.

I find that I have a real need to express or explain those differences to myself. I also sometimes need or want to share this perspective with others.

This is why I am an artist.

I yearn to communicate to myself and others those things that move or inspire me. Am I tortured by these feelings? Yes, at times. Can that be the inspiration for my art?

Absolutely!

Does it make my art great? Not in and of itself. It is just that "Big hurt", "Great joy", "More pain", "New love ", and a whole gamut of other emotions and experiences, positive and negative are the gasoline to the fire in my soul.

It can and does consume and burn me at times but it can also fire my emotions and flame my heart.

Back to my point. (Yes, I have one.)
It is emotions and feeling that drive most art.
It is not unexpected then that when you are in a state of emotional turmoil (this can be both good and bad turmoil) you very well may be stirring up the very elixir that fuels art’s creation. Good or bad right or wrong it doesn’t matter.

What matters is that you are made alive with these feelings.

That is everything.

In Which Pooh plays hookey and discovers to his shock, that there are actually other things BESIDES honey that merit the description "MMmmmmmmmm".

We are such lucky creatures on this planet.

To have the ability to experience things the way we do; visually, aurally, tactilely and emotionally is a gift the world is sorrowfully apathetic about.
The indescribable beauty of life is enormous......

Sometimes I think considering how we treat the world and each other, as a species, we are terribly undeserving.

It was such a gorgeous day yesterday, I played hookey after lunch for an hour and took a walk around the lake.

My God we are fortunate to live where there is all this ....nature... within literally 5 minutes of our major metropolitan city

They say (who the heck IS "they" anyway?) Life is in the details....I experienced that walking today. I could pick anything around me, anything ...take a single blade of grass for instance. What do you see? The universe made manifest in a weaving of fiber, water and chlorophyl

This is the most perfect energy factory. Completely self contained . Give
it water and sunlight and and it grows, self propagates, self adjusts, can
die and be reborn, and comes in a huge array of colors, shapes and sizes. It holds together the soil, provides fuel for any number of living engines, AND as if that's not enough, it outputs the one thing on the planet we need to live ... oxygen. and we need to do nothing for it to happen

But that is not all! It also affords us the grace of it's lush colors and the feel of
it under our toes. Or what about how it looks in the fall when it is long, brown and blows in the wind. Or how grass smells after it is cut. Or what it tastes like. Or how it rustles in the moonlight, chuffs in the wind, collects dew in the morning....or, or, or.

All in one blade of grass!
Now multiply that by all the blades of grass around the lake... in this city... on this planet.

There is more beauty in a blade of grass than I could describe in a lifetime, much less on a beautiful day when I went walking.

In which Pooh goes visiting and comes home a better bear for it.

For those of you following this site, tonight was the night I was invited to dinner at Namvar's house. If you don't have a clue what I am talking about, (being clueless is a common malady of mine) you can read Here, And Here.

I have really been looking forward to this. I want to make a good impression with them. I've thought about that a lot the last few days. I am not talking about the regular, "Hi I'm not a jerk, I'm a decent guy" kind of good impression. Everyone wants to do that. I am aware that I would like to make a good impression as an American.
Jeez I just reread that...does that sound stupid or arrogant?
I hope not. In my head it doesn't feel that way. I think we all have been thinking a lot about the world and our place in it these last few weeks. Where do we fit in and what do we stand for anymore? This weighs heavy on my mind these days. I'd like to think outsiders don't think of us ALL as being super jerk morons like Bush. So I WANT to make a good impression.
But I know they have not been treated well by some people here and that makes me angry and a little defensive. Blah blahblah I'm rambling, sorry on with the story.

They live in a nice but small little home in St Louis Park in a neighborhood of similar homes. When I arrived, I was taken aback a bit by the formal and honorable way in which I was welcomed into their home. I didn't envision quite that much fanfare. It was obvious that this was a big and anticipated event for them.

I was introduced to Namvar's wife, Zari first. (I am probably going to mangle the spellings with these names here, but I am going mostly by phonetics so forgive me). She is a small, delicate and soft-spoken woman.

Then I was introduced to their two daughters, 11 year old Rahsa and 9 year old Hastee, whose first order of business, (as directed by their mother after shyly saying hello) was for them to each give me a thank you note. I had given Namvar money for the girls’ college fund and these were in response to that. I was directed to sit in what was obviously Namvar's chair in the living room and the family just stood there as I read. The whole evening was like this. It was all a bit surreal. Everything felt a little like Father Knows Best where everyone is on his or her best behavior for the boss that has come to the Anderson house for dinner.

It was clear that Zari had spent a great deal of time and effort to make things as perfect as she could as a hostess. They had planned a special dinner for me. Fried chicken and mashed potatoes and gravy and coleslaw!!
I found out later that Zari was sure I wouldn't like Iranian food, so she cooked something "American" she had never ever made before so I wouldn't dislike the food they offered. I was really charmed and touched by the thought.

I have to say I had a fabulous time.

It was so normal and yet it was so NOT normal. The language was a bit of a barrier; the kids spoke better English than either parent. But we got better as we went along.( My ability to speak with my hands AND both feet flapping out my own personal style of charades, I think sped the translation along.) We were having fun and laughing a bit, but there is a firm strictness and discipline and no small amount of solemnity woven into the fabric of life in their house.

Namvar seems very smart and I think he is way more outgoing than he has shown me so far.
Zari is still a bit of a cypher. She stayed quiet for much of the evening. Interestingly, I did not get the sense that this is a male dominated house. As much as we hear about the anti-female, super male dominated culture in Iran. I did get a feeling that Zari carries no small amount of power in the family.

In many ways, the girls are quickly on their way to becoming your average teenaged Americans. But there is always that sober, serious feeling when talking with them
I am not sure if some of that is because the girls were ordered to be on their best behavior or not. Perhaps in time I will see them running around and squealing like any other 9 and 11 year old little girls. I think so; Hastee in particular seems to have the imp in her eye.

After dinner I was again directed to what I thought of as the "Namvar chair" and everyone sort of gathered around and we talked. That is I talked.... Mostly I answered questions. Lots and lots of questions. Some about me, but mostly questions about everything and anything. Culture, movies, music, and even some religion and politics. Anything American.

I did learn some things. This is a family that has seen more than it's fair share of violence and grief. It is much of the reason for their leaving Iran. (And perhaps some of the cause of the solemnity). The amazing thing though, is how much this families plight and course is mirrored in our own as Americans. Persecuted and afraid. Driven to looking for a better place to raise a family. Searching for opportunity and freedom. Sounds just like us huh!!!!

Oh and one more thing.
ARE THEY HAPPY TO BE HERE!!!!

Even with all the crap people here have dished out to them, they are so grateful to be here. And belive me, GRATEFUL is the word.

It is a little embarassing how effusive they are to be here. Except, it rings of the truth and it speaks to the better parts of what I think America can and should stand for.

I am a hyper-curious guy by nature, and it was so much fun to be around this family as we learned about each other. They have some huge misconceptions about us, just as we do about them. I will write some about this in later posts.

All in all I had a wonderful time. I was quite moved by how much effort had been made for my visit. They have been in America almost 2 and 1/2 years. And they told me I am the first non-Iranian houseguest they have had.

I feel quite honored.

In which Pooh goes walkabout and gets wet.

It rained today...

First rain...cleansing rain.

I love the rain.

Big fat dollops of water dropped down by clouds made tired by the effort to hold it all in.

There are times when it is so good to be alive and part of the world that you just have to start spinning and jumping until you are so exhausted by the release that you simply cannot stand up anymore.

If you think you are too old to spin and jump, I am sorry for you...

If you think you should not do this because you would look silly standing outside in the rain bopping around like a hyper-active Muppet, I am so sorry for you.

It reminded me today, with all the bad that is going on, with all the pain and hurting people in the world, that tomorrow it will rain again. And somewhere in the world, there is someone breathing in, and spinning and jumping. And that gives me hope

If I live to be 100 years old, I will never tire of the smell of the air just after it has rained. It is an odd and hard to describe smell, but it is such a HUMAN smell that I do not need to remind you what it is like. We can all shut our eyes and the fragrance is in our heads and in our noses.

Can you taste it?? Yes? .....We ALL can. I know you are all out there, right now, smiling at the taste of it in your mouth.

It is a smell that speaks of life and of the planet and of growing things. It is pungent with earth's creation and it such sweet perfume.

It has a tang that is so familiar, so a part of us, so much a genetic mnemonic of life, that we just know we have been breathing it, tasting it and enjoying it for thousands of generations.

White, Black, Brown. Catholic, Jewish, Muslim. We ALL breathe the same air. We have all tasted of the same rain.

Maybe tomorrow when it rains, (and it will my friends, it will) we will remember that we are all brothers and sister in the human race.

I walked in the rain today........ and I am alive.

In which Pooh gets a visitor and a lesson.

I had a rather unexpected house visitor tonight. A bit after 10:30 this evening, I had a knock at my door. I opened it and who should be standing there, but my pizza delivery guy!

Now normally, this would not give cause to raise ones eyebrows, as I have been known to partake of the occasional veggie lovers Za, but in this case I had ordered no pizza, and yet here he was.

(OK stop reading this and go read one of my earlier posts "Give me your Tired and Poor" for any other background you may want.)

My new pizza guy's name is Namvar, he is from Iran and recently moved here with his wife and 2 daughters.

I said hi and said I hadn't ordered a pizza...he nervously laughed a bit and said he knew that, he had just delivered up the street and had seen the lights on and stopped by to say hello, did I remember him!...It was a bit weird him just showing up. I had only met him the one time he delivered to me but I thought, what the heck. So I said, "Sure I remember you Namvar", and invited him in.

I asked about his daughters and how he was doing. He proceeded to talk for about 10 minutes straight. I couldn't get a word in edgewise. (You would think this impossible if you knew me.)

He talked about the war and his job and his life.....and then without taking a breath he asked me if I would like to come to his house and have dinner with he and his wife and children...

Have you ever been listening to someone and then had them say something that you didn't really register right away because it came in out of context or because you just didn't understand them??

Well, that was me……. very impressively looking at him like an ape for about, ohhh 20 minutes or so. (It was probably only about 5 seconds but it sure seemed to me like I had eaten an extra bowl of stupid flakes for dinner and they had chosen that moment to kick in)

Uhhh, I said. Uhhhh Uhhhh mmmmmm huh?
(See? That's me! Verbal.. quick on my feet ... dumb as a box of hair..)

He got all flustered right away and started apologizing for asking ...said he knew we didn't really know each other, and it was too forward to ask, but his family hadn't made many friends here.... No! No! I said as I was trying to pull my head from between my butt cheeks.... I'm sure he thought I was retarded or rude or something...

It would have been funny, but I was afraid I had hurt his feelings....

No! No!

I tried again... Wait! Wait! Please! We were so much like Abbott and Costello doing "Who’s on First?" as we kept blundering into each others words. I finally just started laughing, which got him to stop apologizing and then he started laughing as well. We finally got it worked out so we both understood each other and our reactions to the confusion, but it took like 10 minutes.

End result? I told him I would love to come to his house. So, I am going next Thursday. I am really excited. Namvar seems like a very bright, gentle and interesting guy.

.... After he left I got to thinking how hard communication can be under the best of circumstances.

He and I have met exactly twice and have had problems understanding each other both times. And I don't just mean misunderstanding the language. The intent was misinterpreted as well. Fortunately, we both stuck with each other long enough to work through the initial confusion.

Language, culture and tradition and body language all play such a huge role. Not to mention how much perceived dominance matters. I was aware in our exchange how deferential Namvar was to me. I know our roles would have been completely reversed if I was knocking on his door in Iran.

I really admire his courage. Here he is living in an unfamiliar country, asking a complete stranger over. How many of us could do the same if the situation were reversed? I already like him..... I am looking forward to seeing what he is like, in his house, with his family, on his territory.

In which Pooh works himself into a lather about the world.

I am so sick and tired of all the war BS that is being fed to us from around the world like some kind of Power Rangers meets the Matrix video game.

Don't get me wrong ..I think we should have journalists embedded with the troops like we did back in WW2 and Viet Nam.

Journalists...... that is the crucial distinction. Not media pretty boys dressed up as soldiers disseminating information being fed to them by the military. (You are aware that EVERY media person over there has his own personal military shadow aren't you?)

Do you really think we are getting the real story? Do You??? Really?? Where are the bodies? The civilian casualties?? Do you really think we can drop more bomb weight in 3 weeks than we did in the entire run of WW2, no matter how well guided by computers and not kill and maim civilians?? How often does your computer freeze and gork-up?? Try banging it around in a tank at 60 MPH ...PLEASE..get real..of course we are killing women and children and old people..that is what war is.

Let's at least be honest about it.

Except for a couple of strategically placed stories showing US troops that had been brutalized, we have seen no civilian devastation......maybe a couple of short blips into hospitals showing wounded children quickly followed by OUR disinformation claiming it was all done by Saddam, or when they were used as human shields..........Do you actually believe that this is what this war looks like on the ground over there???? We as a people are being managed and manipulated just as completely as Baghdad Bob manipulates his people when he stands in front of a Saddam palace and says, "Americans are committing suicide and running away by the thousands" We laugh because we can see the American tank coming up behind him as he is broadcasting.. Do you think we are not being manipulated by the media with the information our Government chooses to tell us?
Where are all the millions of weapons of mass destruction Saddam had????
Where is OSAMA...What about NORTH KOREA...OUR ECONOMY...MASSIVE UNEMPLOYMENT ... SARS...TAX BREAKS FOR THE RICH....DUCT TAPE AND PLASTIC????? ARE YOU KIDDING ME???????????????????

Does this sound patriotic to you???

No?

Let me throw a little phrase out to you..see if it rings a bell..

Intellectual Integrity...

Now I know these two words have not been used much these days.... especially with the current administration.

It makes me so angry that I could scream when I hear people say, we need to support our president, and that speaking out against him is unpatriotic..

Really? How about a little .. Intellectual Integrity...

Do you really think I am not capable of separating my revulsion and utter disdain for the boob we have as President with my heartfelt desire that all our troops come home safely???

Do you really think I am unable to think simultaneously that this war is 100% wrong and yet the situation over there needs to be changed???

Do you really think that my exercising the VERY rights we profess to champion with this war is Anti-American?

Intellectual Integrity...

Can we agree that the UN can be both wonderfully effective and damnably mired in politics?

Can we agree that France has been self-serving and duplicitous ..just like the US has been. (Sure France has been selling war stuff to Saddam...but remember..WE started it, by giving him the money and military stuff in the first place...Isn't it ironic that the US troops that have been killed by Saddam, were in all likelihood killed by US supplied guns and munitions)

Intellectual Integrity...

How about this for you, "stand behind him no matter what" people..

Were the millions that protested and marched to get us out of Viet Nam wrong??
History tells us that our ill-advised actions in this war were stopped BECAUSE of people protesting....

Were our forefathers wrong when they rioted and dumped tea into Boston harbor to protest taxation without representation??? Hmmm?

Can we agree that morons and greedy war mongers should NOT be allowed to bully other nations with chemical, biological and nuclear fear and forc.............wait......does this sound familiar............... NOW WHOM AM I TALKING ABOUT??????? (Hint..He did not win the election, but was appointed by the daddy stocked Supremes)

In which Pooh goes techno and scares Piglet with cyberslang

Hooo boy !!!!
Final Cut 4, DVD Studio Pro 2, and Shake 3!!!!
FC4 now offers .........24p support (WOOO WOOO Jeremy!! DVX-100 BWaaahahahahaha) .....................XML support (for better pro integration).....a buttload (that's a lot) of new realtime doodoo.............sweet audio improvements.........vastly improved codecs.....whompadoodie new animated title stuff......... (I 'm starting to hyperventilate...) DVDSP2 ....has new context-sensitive drop palettes......MPEG-2 encoding with multi-pass VBR........... New batch transcoding.....(passing ouuuut soooonn......) Shake3..unlimited network rendering...killer new automated roto........................(need I say more)................broadcast monitor support.....audio.....uhhhhhthingsgoingblacknowhappyhappyjoyjoy............

In which Pooh gets really bummed and comes very close to going postal because somebody hooked his Honey !!!

Somebody STOLE my cell phone last night...

AAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH

I called and cancelled my outgoing service right away but.....

AAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH

What kind of stupid freeking moron steals a cell phone when they KNOW the person they are stealing it from will be aware it is stolen inside of 30 seconds????????

AAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH

I despair at the kind of civilization we live in sometimes..