The JackB

"When you're in jail, a good friend will be trying to bail you out. A best friend will be in the cell next to you saying, 'Damn, that was fun'." Groucho Marx

Archives for April 2006

An Old Joke

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A United States Marine was attending some college courses between assignments. He had completed missions in Iraq and Afghanistan.

One of the courses had a professor who was an avowed atheist and a member of the ACLU.

One day the professor shocked the class when he came in. He looked to the ceiling and flatly stated, “G-d, if you are real, then I want you to knock me off this platform.

I’ll give you exactly 15 minutes.” The lecture room fell silent. You could hear a pin drop. Ten minutes went by and the professor proclaimed, “Here I am G-d. I’m still waiting.”

It got down to the last couple of minutes when the Marine got out of his chair, went up to the professor and cold -cocked him; knocking him off the platform.

The professor was out cold. The Marine went back to his seat and sat there, silently. The other students were shocked and stunned and sat there looking on in silence. The professor eventually came to, noticeably shaken, looked at the Marine and asked, “What the hell is the matter with you? Why did you do that?”

The Marine calmly replied, “God was too busy today protecting America’s soldiers who are protecting your right to say stupid shit and act like an asshole…..So He sent me.”

Yom HaShoah

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It is Holocaust remembrance day. May I point out that the lovely leader of Iran has this to say:

“Ahmadinejad, in a wide-ranging news conference that included international journalists for only the second time since he took office in August, said anti-Semitism drove Jews out of Europe into Israel.

“We believe that Jews like any other human beings have the right to live in happiness and prosperity and to benefit from security,” he said, according to a CNN translator. “Allow them to go back to their own fatherlands and countries.”

The Palestinians and Germans, he said, are being “blackmailed” and forced to continue making amends for a war in which the present generation played no part.

And, as he has done in the past, he appeared to question whether the Holocaust took place. He called Israel’s regime artificial, saying it was established in the late 1940s on a “story” and “to this day, it bloodies and kills defenseless people.”

Here is what I know. Men like this are the reason why Africa burns and the world is silent. Men like this are the reason why mothers cry over the deaths of soldier sons. Men like this are the reason why we have to be vigilant so that we can continue to say never again.

As I write this I think about the relatives that I lost, the family memories that will never be shared and the senseless deaths of so many. There are others who suffered far greater than I, but this should never be about comparing who lost the most.

We remember because the world doesn’t change and human memory is short. We remember because genocide can still happen and it is our charge, our obligation and our responsibility to fight so that it does not happen.

We remember and because we do we know that we won’t ever go silently into the night again.

Never again.

Two Kinds of Pain

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Life offers two types of pain, one physical and one mental. Man still hasn’t found a tougher prison than the one he encages his mind in. There is no greater pain than the mental anguish we inflict on ourselves and there is no tougher warden than the person we see in the mirror. For some there is no midnight reprieve, the governor doesn’t offer clemency. There is only one way out and no two people can share the path.

We all live in our secret worlds, but some of us never have the strength to leave our shelter and walk under sunny skies.

I used to.

I used to live in a place I called paradise. I could look out on the world and from my window and gaze upon waters that called out to me. Deep blue seas that embraced me like a child in the womb. The seas were always calm and at night they would gently rock me to sleep.

But it wasn’t real. I didn’t live on a boat. I didn’t live on the beach or remotely close to the water. It was all an illusion, a mindfuck that I created to make myself happy. The problem was that I hadn’t realized it. I didn’t have a clue as to how precarious my own happiness was and once that was shattered I knew nothing but darkness. I wandered aimlessly in a fog, not knowing where I was going or what I was doing. It didn’t matter, I didn’t care.

I said it before, there are two kinds of pain and mental is far worse than physical. You can always find a way to escape physical pain, but you can’t run from your own mind. Philosophers had long ago figured out that hell existed, that there was a devil, except he wasn’t a guy with horns, a pitchfork and a tail. The church had made that guy up. The devil was someone familiar with you, someone who knew your most intimate secrets and your darkest fears. The devil knew you, knew how to torment your soul.

The devil knew all this because he was, he is…you.

That’s right, the devil is not supernatural. There is no Lucifer, no Satan, and no Beelzebub. It would be better for us all if he did exist. No, the devil is just a man, a person that lives inside us all.

See when they wrote the bible and told the story of getting banished from the Garden of Eden they were not talking about a mythological place, they were referring to the end of innocence. They were talking about that time when life hits you in the mouth, knocks you down and beats you senseless. They were talking about getting hurt in places that bandages don’t stick, cuts that you cannot stitch, they just keep bleeding. And even if you manage to stop the bleeding that stinging sensation never really does go away.

(From Fragments of Fiction)

I Had a Dream

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chagall, love, a hat and a songI had a dream. I dreamt of a place that I had never been to but always wanted to live in. You were there and your arms welcomed me to a place that until then had always lived inside me. You unlocked the passion and the fire that burns inside me.

You helped me to remember that love is meant to sting, that to be apart is to feel an ache that no drug can touch and to be together is to know the meaning of union.

You are my drug of choice, an addiction that I cannot give up. My air and my blood, the wind that fills my sails and were I to lose you I would be forced to revisit that dark place that I used to live in. I would be hollow inside, an empty shell and who knows what might choose to occupy that place.

I knew the day that we kissed that life was going to be different. Few people understand because so few have had the experience and even then few walk that path. When you walk through fire you risk being burned but you also open yourself up to untold rewards.

When just holding hands brings incredible pleasure, when whispers and caresses offer the height of joy and passion there is something special.

When I kissed you I felt your legs go weak and I held you tightly but I was not concerned because my arms were made for holding you tight and feeling your heart beat against mine gives me all the strength that I require.

I had a dream that became reality.

(originally posted here)

Shaving

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This is the tale of a beard. It is not a long tale. For that matter it is a whisker or two short of being too long. Cue polite laughter at tired joke. It is one of the privileges of being a father. Bad puns told repeatedly at family events. If you read the manual you’ll see that it is next to the line that says you don’t have to take out the trash until you have been asked more than two times in an hour.

I am currently cleanshaven. It is a state that I enjoy but not one that lasts as I have a beard that is quite active. It is one of the perks of having darke features. My shadow shows early and often. I can grow a full beard in around three weeks or so. It is not really of much value to me.

I suppose that if I really wanted to adjust my look it is something that I could do with a certain degree of ease, but it still isn’t all that valauble. One of these days I may discover a way to make money from it, but for now I am still looking.

In the interim I’ll continue to grow a beard around twice a year or so and then shave it when I get bored with it.

Those of you who haven’t grown bored with this and are still reading along are probably wondering when this might get interesting. More importantly you are probably wondering if I am going to share any insight about shaving. Well, be glad that you hung out because I am and I will.

Most of the time I use an electric razor. I have tried Remingtons, Brauns and a host of other brands, but in general I prefer a Norelco.

I like it because it fits comfortably in my hand, gives a closer shave and frankly I tend to be be brand loyal in my purchases. On average my electric razors seem to last about four years or so, which is why I recently found myself laying down some cold hard cash for this bad boy.

Thus far it has done a solid job of keeping my face boyishly fresh in appearance. But as good as it is, it still doesn’t match the ability of a standard razor. In that particular category I generally lean towards the Mach 3. I use the plain old Mach 3, but I understand that the turbo is not all that bad.

However, the best shave I have ever received by far is with a straight razor.

I am guessing that most of the readers have seen pictures of a straight razor. If you watch older movies it is a common sight to see a man getting a shave in a barbershop. However, if for some reason you are not familiar with it here is a little info you can use.

Method of Use

“Straight razors usually consist of a hollow-ground knife blade sharpened on one edge. The blade rotates on its tang between two protective pieces called scales; when folded into the scales, the blade is protected from accidental damage. Scales are made of various materials including plastic and wood; they were once made of ivory, but this has been discontinued.

To be effective, a straight razor must be extremely sharp. Before every use, one must strop the blade on linen and then on leather to align and prepare it. The blade must also be sharpened regularly by honing with a special stone. Strops prepared with pastes containing fine grit are also used for honing. A face’s worth of thick hair may require multiple stroppings for one shave, but a blade is usually sharpened only two or three times a year.

In the heyday of straight razor shaving, wealthy users maintained a weekly “rotation” of seven razors to reduce wear on any one piece. Straight razors were often sold in special boxes of seven. However, many users owned only one razor.

Modern Use

Straight razors are still manufactured. Dovo, of Solingen, Germany, and Thiers-Issard of France are two of the most well-known European manufacturers. Feather Safety Razor Co. Ltd. of Osaka, Japan makes a razor with the same form as a traditional straight, but featuring a disposable blade.”

I have had the pleasure of going to the barber for this type of shave on a number of occasions. I loved it. There is something quite nice and invigorating about this. For that matter I enjoyed this so much that I am playing around with the idea of purchasing my own straight razor.

There are a couple of things holding me up. One, is that due to the time factor I am not sure that I want to spend the money. One doesn’t rush while shaving like this, at least not unless you want to bleed like a stuck pig.