Still. We'll Proceed.

Underneath the Lintel by Glen Berger is an amazing play. A librarian who was happy with his rather boring existence now comes before you eccentric, needing, "to prove one life, and justify another" with an, "impressive presentation of lovely evidences." And who's life must he prove? A myth's. And what's worse a myth whom if he actually existed would be forced to be simply a myth because he is not allowed to acknowledge his own existence. A myth who checked out a travel guide and returned it 113 years over due. "That would be the first of many puzzlers in this twisty mystery of a tale." "Still. We'll Proceed."

I will try not to give any more of this exceptional plot away but simply expound upon its wonders and the sneaky bits of wisdom and the deep philosophy that Berger has twisted into detailed portrait of "the librarian." To understand the genious of this play one must understand being underneath the lintel. The lintel is the weightbearing piece above the door, it is a place where we regularly stand and often make significant decision that shape the roads we travel. It is the place where a Jewish cobbler once told Jesus to shove off and was forever cursed for it (see my sneaky reference to the mystery myth man). As Glen Berger says it, " Though we rarely recognize the place, underneath the lintel is where we stand every day, every moment of our life. Underneath the lintel there is nothing but a precipice, and before us--the yawning, staggering, bewildering cosmos." The irreversible choices made that shape the tale told are all examples of what happens underneath the lintel. In many ways these choice are the true theme of the play and where Glen Berger is able to sneak in his own brand of wisdom amidst the wit. These choices that make or break our lives, that only become so exceedingly important in hindsight. "Still. We'll Proceed."

These choices give meaning to the two lives presented. One forcefully robbed of its meaning and the other willingly given away. "We find meaning in relationship. Our relationship to ourselves, our family, our community, nation, to art, to history, to earth with its 100 million other species, the universe, and All That is Beyond. It's the disconnected one who finds life meaningless." "Still. We'll Proceed."

One line in the play begs a completely seperate question from, " to prove one life, and justify another." While I cannot directly quote it tthe line is the librarian paraphrasing a discovery on the part of his myth. It went about like this, there is a God, cool, He has it personally out for me, crap. Therefore, if the librarian can prove his myth's existance he can prove the existance of God. In that sense should our lifes be the pursuit of his life in order to justify our existance as Christians "Still. We'll Proceed."

"We're here because we're here because we're here because we're here..."

Calls from the MAX

I feel the sadness of the irony that has found me. I cannot keep in contact with anyone. If they are not in the area they are not on my mind. It has never been a conscious choice just the way things are. And now, the first time I am consciously trying to keep in contact with people it seems the opposite is happening. I know I cannot say anything messenger related since I am so rarely on as well but it seems that every other form of communication between me and them is self initiated. It would be nice to be getting txt messages and voicemail rather than leaving them.

"The love of one country leads to the hate of another"

As I walked through the colorful produce and flowers of the Portland Farmer's Market I was once again ambushed by memories of England. While it did bring up some longing for what is there it also forced me to admit the thought that has been percolating in my mind for the last week or so. I loved England because I love Portland.
England is the grand mirror with a gilt frame that has everything I love about Portland only bigger, or grander, or in more abundance. The fact that what I have here in Portland is smaller and simpler does not make me love it any less. For while the two mirror each other they still also retain their own uniqueness that lets me love them both.

Check out my awesome html powers!

Of course refering to the fact that the picture I posted on smokezone is a link to my blog where I can now explain the oddity displayed. For those of you still confused please refer to the smokezone to see said oddity.

That thing is Pepto Dizmal. He and his clown brothers, "Dingo the rodeo clown, Draino the Dumpster diver, Neptune the greasy hippy, and Servo the punk (he’s adopted).” are in, "Portland’s own internationally renowned (we’ve been to New Mexico and our videos are big in Bogota, Colombia) clownabilly rock band." I could not help but laugh at his picture and noticing the strange kinship to smkr comments that his following one had. "Nothing, nothing, scares a thief or crack dealer more than four clowns stalking them on girls’ bikes, and throwing painted bricks at them, while laughing hysterically.”

Now for those of you who did not run out to the theater to see the British brilliance of Wallace and Gromit, shame on you! There is nothing more endearing and entertaining than a giant rabit terrorizing Binfield... I mean a small cliche British town.

I am going to take a moment to clear up something that might otherwise worry the more pure ears of those around. Wallace tells Gromit several times to, "put some more wellie in it." "Wellie" is a rain boot. Those not in tune with the British accent have been known to comfuse it for "willie", giving the term a completely different meaning and causing them to send confused stares at the speaker. It is "wellie", it is G rated and it is wonderful.

Well I'm off to have some cheese, later folks.

Apparently there is life after death

I have been diliberating on the best way to follow up that last post. The emotions and stress of the time that it conveyed were highly unwished for but at the same time I loved the way in which the words came out. And I feel slightly silly at making such a final post only to have to repeal some of the information in it. Saturday morning, at Shari's, over breakfast Vala and I resumed our affair. We know we have problems and fears that we will have to deal with. But I decided not to let my fear of what could be ruin the good thing that exists now. There will always be things out of my control and if I start running around making choices based on the fear of what may or may not happen then I am no longer in control of even the present. Thank heaven for people who's strengths lie in my weaknesses.