so where were we?... ah yes, the magic of television (huh?)... well, we were slicing into a slice of life in black and white here behind the candoor (with the help of the RealTime� blog, ahem)

still, television?...

well, the fact is that if we slice the life at any point and look around, we find Rasputin either glued glassy eyed to the cathode rays coming out of the glass screen or we find him nodding off in front of the box of dreams and sales pitches... he walks in the door, falls back on the couch, pushes the buttons to turn on the TV, scrolls through stations for fifteen minutes to an hour, farts liberally, then nods off at some random station... an advertiser's dream... and even as different as he is in many ways (I mean, he does survive living with me, after all), he reminds me that we are all so much a product of the commercial television generations...

and the most amazing thing is human beings have been doing this over and over from the beginning of time and even with recorded history screaming out to teach us that we can choose a different path, we ignore the lessons and continue along the path to self-destruction generation after generation, empire after empire, civilization after civilization... we, as a species, categorically ignore the pre-history clues left by the Inca, Mayan, Aztec, Egyptian and other civilizations to the periodic glimmers of enlightenment recorded in Greek, Roman, Renaissance, late 18th and early 19th centuries, right up to the 1960s...

but what more can be expected of a society of slaves and sycophants...

yeah...

anyway, back to the rambling borrowed from the RealTime� blog and expanded here in this catch up session, I heard from Meg... yes, the Meg of Meg and Dia... and no, I have not gotten tired of gushing over these two uber-talented girls yet... so I beamed to find a message and then plotzed (that's a technical term in the entertainment industry signifying great respect and awe) to read that she actually said that she liked my babbling...

so I slipped into a dream sequence for a few moments...

imagine, the Meg likes my babbling (queue dream sequence blurring and eerie music)... and when we met it was love at first site for all three of us, though Meg was already enmeshed in a wonderful relationship so she left the romance for Dia and me, but the musical embrace and creative copulation was amazing and gave birth to a series of songs and recordings that future generations will consider classic musical literature and still, today, infused with such intricate and clever curlicues of chords and melodies, rise in popularity to bring fame and fortune and anything that we want to our lives...

ok, return to the clarity of life in black and white (and we call this place of illusion and fantasy and creative play clarity?... ah, my self-teasing will (at least so far) always keep my feet firmly planted on the ground, or clouds, or thin air from whence my babbling comes... and there's only one clarity, after all...

so did I already share my message to Meg (and Dia and the band) in an entry here?... yes, back to where we left off before the brief dream sequence and plug for one of my favorite bloggers of all-time)... I think so... and she also said that she won't refuse a dinner invitation, so when they get to Orlando I'll take her and the band to dinner... I mean, if they are not too big for such an invite with a lowly fan like me by the time they get here (nyuk nyuk... but alas, they have nothing scheduled in Florida so far... hopefully they'll at least be coming with next year's Warped Tour)...

and yes, I know it's Dia who turns me on like I was a rabbit in heat (or a 16y/o boy, for that matter), but it seems to be Meg who writes the words at the moment and, I think, the music as well... and besides, it's not like I don�t know my libido lust for Dia is fantasy... hey, she reminds me of Amy, remember?...

the real world sharing with a talented musician and writer (and a person perhaps not yet too jaded by life), now that would be worth giving up the libido fantasies, wouldn't it?...

well, wouldn't it?...

the voices in my head are rather silent suddenly...

so all in all that was an excellent bit of connecting on myspace for one day... I'm such a mogul, huh?... of course I do hear (in my head) a few giggles and some mumbling about having cake and eating it too that leads to all sorts of laughter (oh, it's so much fun in my head sometimes... and if you�re clever or wise, or a clever wise ass, you�ll find your way in and wreak havoc amongst the various others who reside or visit up there... everyone with harmless intent is welcome... and there are a few seats on the magical mystery tour bus that have never been sat in waiting just for the seats that fit them... and there�s always a party in the pool, but we�ll save the full tour for another time)...

hey, maybe I can introduce my newly rediscovered young buck cousin to the girls and we can double date... ok, so realistically, maybe he�ll have more of a chance, but it�s my fantasy, after all... and besides, even more realistically, realistic thinking is waaay overrated... not to worry, this infatuation with Dia will get old soon enough (cuz without some real world connection and communication and encouragement, a one way fantasy fizzles and moves on... not that it couldn't come around again if she wanted, but we can leave further delving into my psyche for another time)...

so then I saw the Mets tie up their series (sudden change of subject?... well, we wouldn't want to embarrass anyone by exposing too much and I'm already down to my shorts)... so anyway, you see this entry dates back closer to the dates up top, though those dates and the date this entry was actually written have little in common except that they are probably in the same year, but then, as repeated so often it must be true, time is relative... the World Series might have been more fun if the Mets won, but then, my roots in NYC have spread so far and wide that it is easy for me to enjoy the games without the crushing blows of home team losses as I've had many homes and many home teams along the way...

and then an entertaining infomercial (yes, that might be an oxymoron, but being in a nostalgic mood, I found it most entertaining) came on... what can I say, that is why they put these things on in the middle of the night when we are spacey and semi-conscious and therein susceptible to silly humor, flashes of nudity, sexual suggestions, and supposedly secret bargains...

this time it is Regis Philbin selling the was the Dean Martin Variety Show DVDs... so many of the most famous foolish people (I mean great talents) of the 60s visited that show... those were the days when we�d rush home from work and hurry through dinner to sit down in front of the TV and watch grown men and women make fools of themselves and call it great entertainment... seems not much has changed over the years, except there�s a lot more anger and violence mixed in with the fools...

and as so often in recent months, once again I realized too late that I had babbled on there in the RealTime� blog and neglected you wonderful readers here behind the candoor, so I shall continue babbling on today (and regurgitate an entry or few that rambled on a whole lot more than the brief RealTime� blog is supposed to do... I just don't follow rules anywhere, aye?... not even my own)... with additional bits and pieces for your viewing pleasure...

and yes, this was another slice of life, another record of wondrous day online and a fair day offline... and as another amazing day in the life full of shocks and surprises and blasts from the past (we�ll get into the dark side lurking in the shadows another time) and seductive fantasies and exciting connections and hopeful fun comes to an end, I wish you sweet madness...

joy to the world (all the boys and girls... and you too) J

. o O ( NOTES ARE THE NEW HAPPY PILL ) O o .
(just let me know you were here)