A Plague Named "Why?". . .

Lately, I've been thinking a lot about existence and being, and well, everything that falls underneath that umbrella. The age old question of "Why are we here?" has been an unrelenting brain teaser since the dawn of time, I'm sure.  I'm an avid reader of various texts, books, and doctrines of the subject and I've explored several religions in hopes of tasting the sweetness of the truth of 'what is'. 

To date, I have found nothing but a "sledgehammer-to-head" like realization that we're all (no matter the nationality, race, color, creed, gender, sexual preference, religion, genetic makeup) proverbial dogs chasing our tails. We talk in circles and stake claims on truth like we hold the patent to it. We regurgitate information gathered and documented from individuals (much like ourselves) who've drawn their conclusions from the personal experiences they encountered on whatever paths life steered them on.  

Thus, naturally, I can assume that we too possess their abilities. Our lives teach us as well; though we don't often heed or value its lessons. Instead, we spend craploads of valuable time seeking counsel, assistance, confirmation, reassurance even. . . outside of ourselves. Perhaps, the priests, this ancient book, these beads, these rocks, this iconic savior of the moment, or this pill hold the answers I seek. 

As a result, our responses to life are merely culminations of learned (programmed) behaviors & responses; words & actions deemed appropriate for whatever sect we've identified ourselves with. So, the question remains. . . Who are we? - or rather - Who are we, at the core? Minus the fluff. What is the purpose of our existence? If doctrines like the Bible, Torah, Qu'ran, Ru Pert Em Heru, etc. were never written, what accounts about life and "what is" would we now document, without the influence of the aforementioned resources? 

In essence, what do we know about knowing? I am all for paying homage to the past, but what has our generation contributed or added to the stockpile?  Or are we no more than followers of those who have tread the perilous pathway before us, piggybacking off of the knowledge that they gained on their own individual journeys. Piggyback riders who debate, have ciphers, write books about and battle ignorantly over whose truth is the most authentic version of tales that are seemingly just personal accounts of mankind's spiritual & physical evolution and historical quest to realize & understand . . . well. . . itself. Specifically, what it is, how it came to be, what's inside it, what is essential to its survival, its capabilities & limitations, and what (besides the plant & animal kingdoms and the elements) exists beyond it.

Wonder if we'll ever entertain the notion that when the lines that we use to separate & classify ourselves are blurred, all that is left is a collection of beings that (on an individual level) hold all the tiny pieces to the grand puzzle that, once completed, spells out the answer to who/what we are. Perhaps, the penalty for our inability to accept this oneness is this: If this scale of unity can not be achieved, mankind will never know itself or comprehend its purpose for being. 

These are my thoughts. They hold no particular value. They are from my core, and are offerings based on conclusions arrived at by way of the myriad of experiences encountered in my own life.  Fleshing them out into words that I can see and read and refer back to from time to time aid me in my own growth and development. They have helped me to evolve from whatever I was, into whatever I am, and I am sure they will aid me in becoming whatever I am to be. They are not intended to be law or fact. Therefore, take your lessons as you see fit, and discard that which does not agree with your core at the moment. No matter what though, always remain open to the possibilities. They are indeed infinite.  

Answers seek comfort on the bed of questions. 

. . . 

May true peace be upon you. . . if/when you can attain it. 

- kj

Rubik's New Phucker of a Toy

Any nostalgia-crazed 80's baby who's held fast to the feel of the decade probably carries close at heart, fond memories of all the funky fresh punk-space-geek flavored t.v. shows, movies, games and toys associated with that time. I am no exception.

Amid the ripe Atari, E.T., Punky Brewster, A.l.f., He-man, Light Bright, Transformers, G.I. Joe, Thundercats, Gremlins, Ferris Bueller, Rock'em Sock'em Robots, Glow Worm, Cabbage Patch, My Little Pony, Garbage Pail Kids, Laser Tag, Purple Rain memories of our past, there should also be a vivid recollection of our simply complex and down-right frickin' frustrating pal, the Rubik's cube. I can remember trading in mud pie bake-offs and hopscotch matches in exchange for a small, yet considerable nonetheless, amount of time dedicated to fiddling with that thing.

As it is with most fads, this one has been resurrected. Now there's a newer, exceedinly difficult version of this old school classic phucker-of-a-toy. . . As if the original model wasn't effin' annoying enough.

(Sidenote: You'll soon realize through future blogs, my timing in catching up to the latest gadgets, whatchamawhoseits and doo-dads is impeccably off. But you'll play "Pretend" like a good little sport and roll right along with me on that now, won't you? Of course, you will.)

Despite my bittersweet experiences with the 3D mechanical puzzle, I'm willing to throw myself into the fire and embers of frustration once more by purchasing one of the new cubes. . . for nostalgia's sake.