Education should be objective. Religion should appear in classes such as world cultures, art, language arts and history. It should not be taught to students. That’s for their parents to decide.
Dec
02
I wish I knew. Most likely a lack of motivation. A lack of interest. What’s the word I’m looking for? Apathy? Except I want to care, but don’t. Still apathy?
Aug
16
When TK-555 isn’t fighting the Rebel Alliance, he’s fighting obesity.
“I’m having a doughnut, sir.”
This is a screenshot from Star Wars Galaxies: An Empire Divided, a game I play. This is just one of the many incongruencies faced in the Star Wars universe seen through the eyes of Sony Online Entertainment LLC (SOE).
Jul
07
This sticky note was recovered from a trashcan at work.
Jun
15
This piece is entitled America and a Toilet are Laughing at You, circa 2008. The subject is the toilet–laughing at a man alongside a vague representation of a United States of America flag. It seems that America and a toilet are on the same side, fighting a man that looks like he belongs about fourth in line on the evolutionary chart of monkey’s journey to become human. Large shoulders, a head that sticks out like he’s some sort of r-tard, short legs and an elongated torso, the gentlemen is cast out because he is different.
Celebrate Somewhere, circa 2008, indulges the audience in the fantasy of an everlasting birthday party. Because, as we all know, birthday parties are the bomb-diggidy, and odds dictate that somebody must turn a year older each day. The stickman this time is somewhat of a bobble head, just going along, nodding with whatever is going on. He is less concerned with the outcome of a birthday party and stoked by the actual celebration. The outcome, obviously, is that it marks a year of life spent, bringing the host that much closer to death. Older women of this time period often hid their age–turning 39 several times in one decade, no one questioning them because, “Hey, she’s kind of a bitch and this is something we can talk behind her back about. Don’t get me wrong. She’s a good friend, but denial isn’t just a river in Egypt if you catch my meaning.”
May
26
Dear Parental Figurine,
I have an idear. How about this. Next time I do something wrong you can keep your mouth shut about how much you disapprove.
Did you know that everyone kept the last thing I did from you because they knew you’d be a bit of a baby about it when you found out? Some of those people really love you, too.
There are other perspectives besides running your religious boxcar down the hill into my tree house.
Concerning the letter you sent me: I have a few things to say in response–not in defense, though. First, I didn’t read it. I read the first two or three sentences. I skipped down to the bottom, read the last line and that was it. I believe these letters you write are therapeutic. For you. You should not send them.
Second, you have never done what I have done. You are without blame in the sort of life I live. By saying that, I recognize that you have begun casting stones. Not without good reason. I epitomize the very life you strived so hard for me, and my sibling not to live. The sibling and I are adults now, and have strayed off the path, somehow staying only a stones throw away. Your reaction once drove me farther down the path. Always away to avoid the pain of your stones. Now, after years of dodging stones I have lived on the fringe of sin long enough to collect those stones and built a wall.
The wall surrounds only the righteousness you stand on–the holy ground where stones grow on trees.
The wall is a regretful, sad wall with bitter tears for mortar. Though, strategic windows placed give me places where I can look at you. Just in case your throwing arm is weak, or your love for your enemy drives you to concern.
With this metaphor I only say I’ve shut you out of every part of my life where you look with judgment and contempt. Consequently there are events in my life for which the joy is overwhelming that you can’t take part of. If you shared my joy, you would condone my life–the parts of my life that vary so far from the Truth you’ve found in your religion. Basically, your antithesis prevents your involvement in my life. And I refuse to dumb it down to make it acceptable.
We are much the same in that we draw an ethical line we will not cross.
You don’t just hurt me. You hurt my sibling, your spouse, and our extended family. It is no wonder there is a sense of Us vs. Them at our gatherings. Your Them ignoring the righteousness that drives you. We pay no mind. We turn the other cheek.
“Live and let live” was my response to your letter. I know you bit your tongue on those words. I know they echo in your ears. Any reality in them is destroyed by a meticulous analysis. That can make me sad.
But, on the flip side, I say those things to prod into the deepest part of you as you’ve prodded into the deepest parts of me. No one knows me like you. Likewise.
At the end of the day it comes down to my life being lived by me. As your child I have only done what’s best for me. I have only begun to live my life and already it contradicts the very core of you–not by choice.
No, at first I did think I was rebelling against my parent. Maybe I was. But down that path I recognized it just so happens to be your antithesis. Because I am your child your conviction on my choices alter your beliefs to become greatly opposed if you are not already so.
In ways, I have affected you far more than you have affected me. Your actions are often reactions to the direction my life takes. So be it. It’s sad to know your enemy’s opposition is furthered by going about your business. But it’s not up to me to change your mind.
With distance,
Your child
May
09
Addition 2, 3, & 4.
Notice the development of a time line along the Gregorian calendar in That’s a Really Big Star You Got There, circa 2007. While it is still 15 days before Christmas will arrive the star shines bright. The exaggerated star stresses a focus away from the tree itself. The tree hardly settles into the background as it becomes another ray of light. Even though the focus is the star, contrasted against other Christmas themed works the tree’s subtleness reveals it as a result of the star. The star in and of itself can stand alone.
As a new year begins so does the theme of this Stickman Chopped, circa 2008 Is the axe floating over the corpse or simply lying across it? The intention of the axe is the focus. A trained eye would wonder if the axe had any part in the decapitation of the stickman. Other than its placement above the stickman there are no signs of blood on the axe, inferring that it may be assumed guilty until proven innocent. We are reminded that nothing is ever what it appears to be.
Again a floating weapon emerges as a bandanna stickman foils a bank robbery in End of the Line, circa 2008. There are no signs that the bandanna stickman is law enforcement. Is he a vigilante? Partner in crime more likely. A dying stickman utters his last words, “Oh, snap.” It seems that it is a double entendre. The dying stickman is commenting on being double-crossed while noting his obvious reference to be shot in half. But by whom? The shotgun has been abandoned for two bags of money. Would he then be responding to his double-crosser himself being double-crossed? If so, it must be a reference to Chaucer’s The Canterbury Tales: The Pardoner’s Prologue and Tale where 3 young men on a quest to find and kill death only find their own deaths as each homicidally betrays the other due to greed.
May
07
I have a problem at work. I doodle. I can’t stop doodling. It’s an addiction like any other addiction. Except I can stop whenever I want. I just choose not to. This is an ongoing project. But remember, all fucking great ass things come to an end. So enjoy it while it lasts.
I repair shoes at an upscale (but not too upscale) shoe store. What you see is the part number, description of the part being ordered, in this case is it a black Corvallis size 45 regular, and the customer’s name. They are always photo shopped out. My initials (JDS) are always in there, too.
Stickmen Fighting, circa 2007, represents the conflict between western settlers and indigenous peoples of North America. One can only speculate as to who will win. The weapons chosen are staffs, historically seen in Chinese martial arts, a contest for which strength is secondary, while skill and experience are highly valued.
