Right....

This may go down as the worst blogging year in a few.
I guess with the comp problems and general business I haven't really been writing.

I taught a class at school where the kids had to create blogs and talk about rebels and revolutionaries. The idea was that they would find someone they thought acted as either a rebel or revolutionary in their field.
The list of topics ended up including:
Marilyn Manson
Sid Vicious
Lady Gaga
Lil Wayne
Wisin y Yandel

Timothy Leary
Jacque Fresco
Al Capone
Che Guevara

Irish Republican Army
The Warsaw Ghetto Uprising

Jesus

I would put up links, but most of them weren't all that great and all of them included a lot of copyrighted material.

I decided to try to do a geography class next trimester along with World History 3 and US history 2.


I have been awake for approximately 3 hours but it seems like forever.
I haven't done anything yet.
I was in bed thinking about how we are all hypocrites and we will never not be. Someone had recently told me that I needed to stop worrying about the small things I would never be able to stop and instead dedicate myself to something larger. Its a strange paradox, can I do better by ignoring the bad things I do and instead putting more energy into the good things I can do?

A Lakota medicine man came into our school. He spoke of crystals and technology that could save the planet, he spoke of spirits in trees and ancestors who look out for us. Its funny how one can switch modes to hear about tree spirits and envision them as true beings, accept them as reality when in the company of someone who believes these things (if they are native). But if a friend said that they believed in leprechauns I would probably laugh at them.

The reality is both.
We are both trying to get better and trying to keep us from getting better. All hypocrites.
All saints and sinners. So when we move away from old habits that we worried would destroy us, we moved into new habits that kept us from living (and destroyed us)... the balance is in acceptance. This time next year I wont remember saying or thinking any of this. I may have already said it a thousand times.

Sometimes I am amazed by my own poetry. Sometimes I think its all crap.
Sometimes I am amazed by my art, sometimes I refuse to draw.
Sometimes I want to sing and talk, other times I wonder what I have to say at all.
And this is to be human.