I’ve been struggling with coming up with anything to write here recently or even just being inspired to write SOMETHING, for that matter. Thinking about that, the following song came to mind, my favorite song by one of my favorite bands, Dream Theater.

Other than the obvious topic about trying to put down thoughts to paper, I find some significant truths in the lyrics that the writer may not have intended. For instance, part of the lyrics say “So I wither and render myself helpless. I give in and everything is clear”. As a believer in Christ, that’s a great way t o state a truth fundamental that I need to follow more closely in my own life, which is that I never really find what I’m looking for in Jesus until I “Wither” to myself and allow His spirit to make everything clear to me. That isn’t a withering that makes me someone who I’m not but, conversely, who God had created me to be in the first place, the real me.

Do yourself a favor and check out this great song…

Let it out, let it out
Fill the empty space
So insecure
Find the words
And let it out

Staring down, staring down
Nothing comes to mind
Find the place
Turn the water into wine

But I feel I’m getting nowhere
And I’ll never see the end

So I wither
And render myself helpless
I give in
And everything is clear
I break down
And let the story guide me

Turn it on, turn it on
Let the feelings flow
Close your eyes
And see the ones you used to know

Open up, open up
Don’t struggle to relate
Lure it out
Help the memory escape

Still this barrenness consumes me
And I feel like giving up

So I wither
And render myself helpless
I give in
And everything is clear
I break down
And let the story guide me
I wither
And give myself away

Like reflections on the page
The world’s what you create

I drown in hesitation
My words come crashing down
And all my best creations
Burn into the ground
The thought of starting over
Leaves me paralyzed

Tear it out again
Another one that got away

I wither
And render myself helpless
I give in
And everything is clear

I wither
And render myself helpless
I give in
And everything is clear
I break down
And let the story guide me
I wither
And give myself away

Like reflections on the page
The world’s what you create


Still Alive and Kickin’ It Old-School Style

Okay, so that title is really only a weak (and failing) attempt at trying to be cool. Anyway, I just wanted to send a shout-out to the faithful few, and I mean FEW, regular folks who actually read the tripe I post on this blog.

I’ve been busy since November with life events in both my work and personal life that needed attention, so I haven’t done much writing but I’ve got a few “attempts” in the can and will hopefully finish one or two that are at least close to resembling something worth posting very soon. If you just can’t get enough of me, I plan on being back in the swing of things soon. I know, I know…You’re probably already aware of how I just have to fight the groupies off with a stick constantly but I just can’t let the fans down.

Here's Johnny…So to Speak

OK…So my re-entry into the blogosphere isn’t all that dramatic. I probably have the effect of a small mosquito on the hind quarters of an old, dried out rhinoceros. Anyway, I’ve been mostly dormant (or mostly dead, aka “The Princess Bride”) for a few months now, so I thought it appropriate to announce my intent to be a fly in the ointment once again and hopefully more often than in the not-too-distant past.

Considering the rate at which unbelievable and unprecedented things continue to happen, I will most likely not suffer from a lack of interesting topics. In the meantime, feel free to stimulate my thought patterns by giving me a poke in the cyber-ribs if something tweaks your interest or, more likely, I manage to crawl upwards on your list of “Top 10 Most Annoying Persons”.

Until further notice, over and out.

Remembering 9/11

Now, we have inscribed a new memory alongside those others. It’s a memory of tragedy and shock, of loss and mourning. But not only of loss and mourning. It’s also a memory of bravery and self-sacrifice, and the love that lays down its life for …a friend–even a friend whose name it never knew.

–President George W. Bush, December 11, 2001

Time is passing. Yet, for the United States of America, there will be no forgetting September the 11th. We will remember every rescuer who died in honor. We will remember every family that lives in grief. We will remember the fire and ash, the last phone calls, the funerals of the children.

–President George W. Bush, November 11, 2001

War has been waged against us by stealth and deceit and murder. This nation is peaceful, but fierce when stirred to anger. This conflict was begun on the timing and terms of others. It will end in a way, and at an hour, of our choosing.

–George W. Bush, Speech at National Cathedral, September 14, 2001

The planes were hijacked, the buildings fell, and thousands of lives were lost nearly a thousand miles from here. But the attacks on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon were an attack on the heart of America. And standing here in the heartland of America, we say in one voice:

We will not give in to terrorists;

We will not rest until they are found and defeated;

We will win this struggle not for glory, nor wealth, nor power, but for justice, for freedom, and for peace;

So help us God.

–Tom Harkin

America has its faults as a society, as we have ours.

But I think of the Union of America born out of the defeat of slavery.

I think of its Constitution, with its inalienable rights granted to every citizen still a model for the world.

I think of a black man, born in poverty, who became chief of their armed forces and is now secretary of state Colin Powell and I wonder frankly whether such a thing could have happened here.

I think of the Statue of Liberty and how many refugees, migrants and the impoverished passed its light and felt that if not for them, for their children, a new world could indeed be theirs.

I think of a country where people who do well, don’t have questions asked about their accent, their class, their beginnings but have admiration for what they have done and the success they’ve achieved.

I think of those New Yorkers I met, still in shock, but resolute; the fire fighters and police, mourning their comrades but still head held high.

–British Prime Minister Tony Blair

Our enemies have made the mistake that America’s enemies always make. They saw liberty and thought they saw weakness. And now, they see defeat.

–George W. Bush, President of the United States

Philadelphia Journalist Feels Threatened by Bloggers

I DON’T have a blog. If I did

blog, this is what it would be like. (To make it seem like a real blog, I’ll include typos and factual errors.)

The above is a quote from “IMHO, just like falling, like, off a blog (WTF?)“, by Stu Bykofsky, a columnist for the Philadlephia Daily News. He’s also the [sarcasm on]great American[/sarcasm off] who said the following in 2007 in his article titled “To save America, we need another 9/11“:

ONE MONTH from The Anniversary, I’m thinking another 9/11 would help America. What kind of a sick bastard would write such a thing? A bastard so sick of how splintered we are politically – thanks mainly to our ineptitude in Iraq – that we have forgotten who the enemy is. It is not Bush and it is not Hillary and it is not Daily Kos or Bill O’Reilly or Giuliani or Barack. It is global terrorists who use Islam to justify their hideous sins…

Now why would a supposed “journalist” feel it necessary to slam others dabbling in his profession? Jealousy? Probably so. But more likely, he feels threatened considering the dwindling numbers of newspaper subscribers in comparison to the rapidly growing numbers of bloggers.

Truthfully, many bloggers do have a penchant for misspellings, bad grammar, and not-so-accurate “facts”. I’ve gotten it wrong myself before and I don’t have such a big head that I think it’ll never happen again. However, this isn’t my profession. For me, it’s a hobby, and one that I rather enjoy. Regardless, I don’t have the resources that Mr. Bykofsky has. I do this in my spare time but I hope I’m fairly decent at it. If this “journalist” wants to be threatened by that, so be it.

By the way, his attempted slam against bloggers was posted on philly.com.

Ummm…Duzn’t that make u a blogger, Misster Bicofskee?


A.O.T.D. (Annoyance of the Day) 7/14/09

Caution: This is NOT an anti-smoking rant! If you want to suck on a cancer stick, feel free to do so as long as you’re not blowing noxious fumes into my face or personal space, property, etc. I’m also not for banning smoking in every public space. You can read my views on that issue here.

This is purely about cigarette butts…I hate them. I’m mowing the law and I find them in my yard. I find them on the sidewalk, in the road, in front of the door at work, etc. What is the deal with you smokers that you can’t put out your frickin’ cigarettes IN AN ASH TRAY RATHER THAN THROWING THEM ANYWHERE YOU DARN WELL FEEL LIKE?

It especially drives me nuts to see people tossing them out their car window as they drive along. Do you people not know how to use the ash tray in your vehicle so you have to use the rest of the world as your trash can? If you’re afraid your vehicle might stink then quit smoking or figure out how to use the ash tray for the sake of everyone else.

Rant over.   🙂


Every once in a while, it’s nice just to hear or think about something simple.  It can be a welcomed diversion from complex thoughts, the busyness and stress of life, etc.  Here’s a poem written by my 11-year-old cousin that made me think how much truth there is sometimes in just keeping it simple…


There was a smell of Heaven in the air tonight. What does Heaven smell like? Like flowers and honey and fruit. And if you wondered what Heaven sounded like it sounded like singing in a choir and a great soft, comforting voice and pure peace and joy. And going further what did Heaven look like? Heaven looked like pure light and peace or it looked like love and grace or truth and

might coming from his words.

That was how Heaven smelled and looked and sounded and tonight you could almost touch Heaven.

By : Charlie Dunkle