Ok.  Enough of this.  My

Posted on September 25, 2001 by joe

Ok.  Enough of this.  My astrologer tells me I take myself much too seriously.  (Yeah, an astrologer.  What else would I call her, an angel?).  I was going to get all tangled up in some new javascript that I found, and then maybe change all my icons from 32×32 size to 32×88 cuz I found a bunch I want to use that are the larger size, and then I might create more pages for this site within a sensible structure like other sites I see…

And then I remembered; there is something in me that needs to come out — that’s why I get into this kind of unfocussed frenzy.  So, what might it be?

I wonder sometimes why in this weblog I don’t write most of the things that are going on.  Other bloggers give a nicely proportioned serving of their day with some detail, sometimes with great detail.  Why don’t I do this?  (Rhetorical question — no e-mails, please.).  So.  This is what is going on:

  1. I am supposed to be looking for a new apartment; actually I’m supposed to be in a new apartment already, but since I am not, then I guess I am supposed to be still looking.  I find this difficult because
    1. I can’t get out of bed — not in the morning, not in the afternoon, nor at any other time of day even after I have been in bed long enough to have lost a pillow (the fact that I am able to recognize that a pillow is missing constitutes evidence of adequate rest — but I still cannot get out of bed.  It is just so much nicer than the alternatives.). 
    2. Once out of bed (it’s inevitable) I can make coffee, but I am unable to do anything else before supper-time — not even shower — much less locate and call prospective landlords, visit their properties, and ramp-up my enthusiasm to present myself as a generally desireable potential tenant.  And because,
    3. I don’t want to.
  2. I’m supposed to be living.  I am 43 years old and less than 200 miles from where I live, the lives of over 6,000 people — most of them younger than me — were snuffed out in less than 30 minutes.  You could say that I feel a little guilty about that, especially since I have done shit with my life, but let’s not dwell on the negative.  Whatever else may be the case, there is some living to be done here, by me, in whatever time I have left.  However, I find that this too is difficult.  See item number 1, sub-items a, b, and c. 
  3. I have blown-off (or am trying to blow-off) about $10,000 in credit card debt.  This item is related inversely to items number 1 and 2 in that ‘success’ here equates with failure in the other areas.  Of course defaulting on my debts was not my goal in spending so much money over the past four years.  But my logic was faulty.  I thought if I incurred so much debt that I needed to make more money, this would motivate me to advance professionally and increase my income.  Ha!  I don’t think I really really believed that, but it provided a functional rationalization while I was spending six grand on computer hardware, and the other four grand on vodka martinis and tips for cute waiters. 

So that is what’s going on — or not going on, as the case may be.  And I don’t feel even the slightest bit better for having not indulged my fetish for javascript merely for the sake of trying to be more like all the other bloggers in the world.  Harumph.  I’m going now to play with some javascript — or maybe getting into bed would be nice.  Hmm… 

Posted in | Tagged , , | Comments Off on Ok.  Enough of this.  My

Reply to cold cold

Posted on September 25, 2001 by joe
Reply to cold cold morning
– Mary T. Helmes, 12/21/97

…and anything could happen

Ahh, Mary.  Is it you who make the tears?  Or is it me?  Or are they made in that horrible holy space between us all, where we fail — fail to meet; to love; to touch and give; to touch and receive; to let go; to hold on… 

(I want — just one more time in my life — for the center of my world to be my nana’s chocolate chip cookies.). 

But here the tears gather, in the wet of my own eyes; blame me for them.  Guilt by association.  But I don’t want them.  But here they are, more and more. 

And more.  Thank you.

Posted in | Tagged | Comments Off on Reply to cold cold

unfinished love

Posted on September 25, 2001 by joe
unfinished love

I used to live at this site.  I watched his webcam day in and day out.  I was in love with him in the same way that I love the sexy boi’s I know I cannot have, the fresh beauties who do not have a pathologic attraction for older paunchy men.  Rex was the perfect sweet soul, kind to all, sensitive in a crystalline-honest way, and gentle.  He was one of those delicious boys who made me achingly aware of that place in my heart where I wanted someone to be.  But I tried to be the good observer from a distance, not contemptuous of him, for he deserved no contempt, and not hating him for his vital youth and love of life, for that is the basest kind of jealousy.  I tried to be just me, whatever that would be if I were like his other admirers — open and honest and not trying to keep contained a raging white-hot lonliness in a pressure vessle of calm appearance. 

He was so many things that I was not; young, attractive, productive, social.  Genuine.  While watching his webcam I listened to his nightly web-broadcast on gaybc.com almost religiously.  I watched him have coffee most mornings when he got up around 8 or 9 AM his time, which was around 11 or noon my time — we usually got up together.  It was as much interpersonal reality as I could handle at the time, the silent movie of reX updated every 40 seconds.  I wondered what he was saying when I saw him on the phone, and who he was saying it to.  I wondered what he was watching when the downloaded image showed him alone on his couch illuminated only by the light from his TV.  I wondered how I would behave if I were there, within earshot of his TV — within the sound of his voice.  How would I respond?  Who would I be? 

you read me very well – i wHas aftriad of you pulling that out – cause i t couldnt last very long with me hiding this from you-

maybe you know already – perhaps told by a dReam – or vision – or passing thought or maybe wHen you took your med’s one time you might think .. “hmmmmm… wHy am i tHinking of michael right now?”  .. what has he done now?  ..

— from reX’s ramBles, to his ex, cHris.

I tried to read the language of the bodies when he was not alone on that couch; he was modest, never an exhibitionist, though he was extremely hot.  And his partners (the few I saw) were never interested enough in him; either they persued their own sexual urges despite his reluctance, or they dumbly ignored what appeared to be his obvious affections, withholding their warmth and resisting intimacy with him.  Baffling to me. 

One of the things I respected most about reX was the loving way he handled people — callers to his show, people who wrote in, guests — who were HIV positive.  He treated us the same way he treated everybody, with whole hearted kindness and goodwill.  He even had a positive boyfriend for a significant period of time.  I loved reX. 

but i wHas ALWAYS afriad of certain “fates” for us – and sCares me still to know – yah this is our “tHirtys” – and teh realities of liFe tHat have effected us – I always wanted you.. more.. wanted to protect you.. wanted you “protected” .. or “sPecial” .. cause you were kinda of mine.. in a wHay.. and i wHas always yours..

sPecial you are now to me.. moRe and more .. as i miss and yearn my best fRiend.. my confidant.. it sCares me that my protection cant protect you fRom some of tHOse realities – makes me smehow feel like i failed – and tHen wHen i found out I wHas pos – it made me feel eVen more disapointed – or that i failed a mission

i haVe always used my “neg” status as magic and protection for those i loVed – being neg meant i could keep others safe as well..

— from reX’s ramBles, to his ex, cHris.

I speak of reX in the past tense not because he died or anything like that, but because he left.  He disappeared from gaybc without much explanation that I could find.  But I didn’t look too hard because he was still on-camera; I had figured out how to watch his webcam without going to his site — stealing bandwidth it’s called.  I am a sinner.  But even his pictures spoke of something different.  My reading of his images told a story of some disruption, a hard wind of change.  His images switched web-hosts, he started showing more skin — not immodestly, but like a modest boy pretending to be immodest.  I wondered where he was going. 

I stopped snatching his images off his server because it began to appear like reX was using them commercially, on badpuppy.com.  Private galleries of reX-images became available to subscribers.  And nowhere on the web could I find his voice, which, now that I think about it, had always been wHay more sexy than any cock- or butt-shot could ever be. 


Fast-forward to tonight, while I was wrestling with my lately spotty DSL connection and out of sheer annoyance at my disconnectivity I clicked on a streaming-audio link in an e-mail sent by Eric at planetconcrete.com.  There was reX, at radio.gaycams.com.  I listened to reX again.  I watched.  And I read. 

And I cried.  Because I’ve been at this place before.  And I never finished crying from when I was in that same place, eight years ago, discovering that I was HIV positive, too. 

Maybe you never finish, maybe you never complete the task of working through a tragedy.  Maybe instead of crying as much as you could — which would take forever and certainly be enough tears to wash away all the dust from ground-zero — instead, you simply mark the dust with a thousand tears, and then you walk away.  They say that even a work of art is never truly finished, just abandoned. 

I love you reX, and I don’t care what anybody thinks of that.  I don’t even care if you don’t love me back the same way — which of course you don’t.  (If you do, I’ll be there within 24 hours.  <grin> ).  No, I love you because my love is — it has to be — unrequited.  It cannot safely exist otherwise.  It blooms in the space of your absence; it would wilt from shyness under the sheer intensity of your attention. 

The truest work of our hearts is never finished, just abandoned…     

Posted in | Tagged , , , | Comments Off on unfinished love

A nice diversion.

Posted on September 24, 2001 by joe

A nice diversion.

Posted in | Comments Off on A nice diversion.

bye.

Posted on September 23, 2001 by joe
He is widely remembered for his fearless performance at a 1991 concert in Jerusalem during the Gulf War.

When sirens began to sound, the audience feared the worst, and began donning gas masks.

Mr Stern, however, ignored the intrusion and focused all his attentions on a Bach solo.

bye.

Everything ends.  Violinist Isaac Stern dies. 

Goodbye, Isaac.

Posted in | Tagged , , , | Comments Off on bye.

Photographers Covering Attacks Are Jailed

Posted on September 23, 2001 by joe

Photographers Covering Attacks Are Jailed

This is the beginning of underground journalism.  If the objective story is going to get out, somebody is going to have to go in and get it.  But beware, this is post-911 America; leave your press pass behind. 

Posted in | Tagged | Comments Off on Photographers Covering Attacks Are Jailed

Please visit the Nostradamus Index

Posted on September 22, 2001 by joe

Please visit the Nostradamus Index at faqs.org.  I know, I know…  I read most of this site days ago and refrained from mentioning it because of its kookiness quotient.  But this site is somewhat scholarly and objective in its treatment of the topic.  The introduction gives a good sense of where this stuff is coming from. 

Even if such prophecies are viewed as nothing but the curious obsession of a few, they still allow us to look at various interpretations of the present and the future.  They gave me pause to reflect, and as a result I gained a perspective on life which I did not have before.  And interestingly, for all of Nostradamus’ bleak and desperate predictions, I came away with a very sturdy conviction that goodness and enlightenment will prevail among humankind — eventually. 

We are exactly where we are supposed to be right now. 

Posted in | Comments Off on Please visit the Nostradamus Index

How vain.  But I just

Posted on September 22, 2001 by joe

How vain.  But I just cannot waste a good e-mail — especially if the recipient liked it. 

To: Joan x x x x x x <jxxxx@juno.com>

Date: Tue, 18 Sep 2001 04:10:05 -0500

Subject: RE:hello

From: burgwinkle@msn.com

Hi Joan,

Hell has come to America.  It really was only a matter of time — it has been brewing for decades.  It may be disingenuous to frame the World Trade Center tragedy as anything but what it is; a shaking, screaming, ripping agony of epic human suffering.  Nonetheless, it represents the beginning of a painful process during which monumental social, religious and philosophical stresses will resolve themselves with often explosive and deadly force.  When it is over, I hope the seething anger and the livid hatred will be thoroughly spent. 

I hope you are well, and not too depressed by it all.  Everyone I know has been crying and distraught, myself especially.  But I feel more aware now of the world, as though awakened and released from an unrealistic innocence.  So much so that I bought stock for the first time in my life today. 

Yup.  I can’t pay my phone bill, I can’t pay any of my credit card bills (except one), but I’m buying stock.  You see, I’m not going to be marching in any desert sand in this lifetime, nor working for the military in any other capacity; I will not ever be a fire fighter again, nor an EMT; and admitting people to a detox…  well, it just doesn’t give the same sense of power and potency that I might have if I were helping to lift a slab of cement off of a survivor.  And the image of an economic collapse springs to mind far too easily since watching those towers fall.  The economic collapse of the United States is probably no more likely than the end of the world — but to be honest, even that seems possible lately. 

So I bought fifty bucks worth of PriceLine.com.  It was one of the biggest losers on Wall Street today, with one of the highest volumes of shares traded.  It costs 50% less today than it did before the attack, and with airline ticket prices certain to increase dramatically, ‘bargain brokers’ like PriceLine will see tons of business — if they stay in business. 

And all of this has made me realize that paying off my credit is as much if not more of a contribution to this economy than is the purchase of stock on a day when everybody seems to be selling. 

These terrorists seem to have awakened the survivor in me.  I used to pay the minimum due on high interest rate credit cards with balances maxxed — and often over-maxxed — even though I knew I was treating myself like dirt, throwing value away, and wasting money I needed to buy food for myself.  (I fled from everything that could be considered competent self-caring..  I used to ignore the poor innocent plant that was given to me by my friends at the hospital with their condolences when my mother died in 1998.  (At times I hated my mother almost as much as I hated myself..  And I was getting increasingly hopeless about life, accepting social and emotional isolation as an acceptable method for coping with that hopelessness.  (I told myself I did not deserve for my life to be any different.)

…until I turned 43, on September 11, 2001.  I have never grown up so much, in so few days, under the weight of so many tragedies.  It is no longer acceptable for me to isolate when New Yorkers weep openly in the streets, sharing their many griefs with other New Yorkers they have never before met.  It is no longer acceptable to devalue myself by misusing one of the symbols of my value, money.  And it is no longer acceptable — been practicing plant care for a couple weeks now — to shun the responsibility of caring for the dead-mother plant, which is utterly dependant on me for everything. 

Maybe none of this makes sense, but one of the things I learned this week is that the World Trade Center towers, (and other places occupying the rarefied air space above lower Manhattan) — places where I thought only the vaunted powerful and rich dwelled and worked — were in reality filled with people just like you and me.  They were men and women, some terribly young, who got up early to fight traffic or subway crowds.  They took the time each day to dress sharply and to present themselves enthusiastically to the often mundane and tedious tasks of administering the financial capital of the world.  And they each did these things day-in and day-out in a 110 storey building with the precious hope of improving the little Jersey Shore futures of their little two-storey lives.  They were optimistic.  They wanted to make some progress in this world, which must have seemed to them, before they died, to be a world brimming with hope and endless opportunity; for them the world was not so little as it is for us today — today we measure distance in minutes by missile. 

And that is the other reason I bought stock today.  The world is — indeed, because of the missiles it must be — a world still brimming with hope and endless opportunity; that’s the way the world was before the attack, the only difference now is that we can’t see quite as far as those who were above the 89th floor.  We built our way of life upon the courage of millions of people who were willing to come to this country and start from scratch.  How dare I lose hope for the condition of the world today when, only a few miles from the tragedy of the twin towers is the place where hundreds of thousands arrived in this country and began new lives in which they overcame far greater obstacles than I face today — and they did it with far less fanfare, and far more cheer. 

I will never forget the image of a man leaping to his death, who appeared tiny, almost negligible, against the massive backdrop of the burning North Tower. 

And so, I will keep their optimism and their hopeful, far-ranging view.  I will keep alive some fragment of their humanity by cultivating my own humanness and breaking down my own walls of isolation as best I can.  I will keep their tenacity and enthusiasm; they have become mythic.  And I will pay my annoying, overdue bills, even as I keep on investing (in my tiny way) in the stock market. 

Most of all, I will try to remember; it is not the one causing the most damage who wins, the winner is the one who causes the most healing. 

luv

joe

Posted in | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | Comments Off on How vain.  But I just

From Today is the

Posted on September 21, 2001 by joe
From Today is the 14th…:

“…and I have a feeling both of us benefitted emotionally from our chat.”

Out of context right there, that quote sounds facetious — but it is not.  After just a few minutes at Sovaj‘s site you know. 

Maybe my isolative behavior makes me more acutely aware of human warmth and sincerity.  Maybe I’m just seeing what I hope is there — but I don’t think so.  I don’t think so because there comes with these recognitions of young men who are generous and sensitive a kind of jealousy on my part — no, it’s more like a soft lament for the boy in me who always wanted to be generous and sensitive, but never let it out.  That unpretensious sentiment makes me believe that my perception is accurate; that impossibly beautiful young gay men do exist.  And I don’t mean beautiful that way — I’ve never seen his picture. 

It’s nice, even if it’s not me. 

Posted in | Comments Off on From Today is the

It finally dawned on me

Posted on September 21, 2001 by joe

It finally dawned on me what hurts so much about that picture; it’s a warning light, intended to help aircraft avoid collision with these tall structures. 

I hope we do not let this horrific tragedy make us cynical in all our human activities.  I hope we can maintain the optimism which makes America one of the most desirable places on earth to live.  We cannot predict every monstrous plan, nor forsee every potential for evil.  We cannot create lives of utter invulnerability in America without losing a great deal of what makes those lives so very much worth living. 

The course of this conflict is not known, yet its outcome is certain. Freedom and fear, justice and cruelty, have always been at war, and we know that God is not neutral between them.

President George W. Bush addressing a joint session of Congress on Thursday night, September 20, 2001.
(I never thought I would ever quote him.  Strange times indeed.)
Posted in | Tagged , , , | Comments Off on It finally dawned on me

…all fall down

Posted on September 20, 2001 by joe
…all fall down

My heart is breaking, and it is not because I have to go to work.  It’s because they are gone. 

I was reading National Geographic last night, an article about light.  Physics, photons, waves, spectrums — it was all there.  And as a curious aside, they included a picture taken at dawn of a workman replacing the red blinking light that is perched atop the antenna tower on the Empire State Building.  It was a nice picture, maybe I will scan it after work and post it here.  And it is fascinating to see close-up such things which are familiar to us at a distance.  There was the East River in the thin light of early dawn, the Brooklyn Bridge, the surrounding huge buildings looking tiny from the tip of that height 1400 feet off the ground. 

And there was in the grey distance near the tip of Manhattan, two towers — so fond.  So painful. 

They are gone. 

Posted in | Tagged , , , , | Comments Off on …all fall down

This e-mail message was forwarded

Posted on September 20, 2001 by joe

This e-mail message was forwarded to me, but unlike most of the garbage forwarded to me by my dear friends (who really do mean well), this possesses some intrinsic value. 

Posted in | Comments Off on This e-mail message was forwarded

This story piqued my apocalyptic

Posted on September 19, 2001 by joe

This story piqued my apocalyptic fears earlier today, though I could not find the details of it until I got home from work. 

Osama bin Laden is the perfect solution for fanatical Arab states.  Through him they are able to prosecute a war which officially and diplomatically they decry.  The hobnailed boot of Arab agression in the Middle East has been left empty as the result of an international (mostly American) prohibition on its use.  They have been gnawing that angry leather idly for many years, one might even say for decades.  Finally, as if in answer to their prayers, that boot is now filled with the force of a potent phantom, a non-state entity responsible to none, who has the resources and the will to carry out the most brutal schemes of the most fanatic elements within the several bona-fide Arab states. 

Attacking the Great Satan half a world away was a stroke of self-promotional genius by bin Laden.  He proved to the Arab states, especially to their fanatic elements in their Intelligence and Military communities, that he was capable and competent.  He capably pulled-off the boldest incursion ever into the sovereign land of the world’s biggest superpower.  And he proved his competency by executing this grand horror without losing any of his cover.  I submit that what connections we have discovered between bin Laden and the dead mass-murders, he has intended to reveal to us.  He wants us to attack. 

While he is baiting us to attack, he is dangling before the noses of those fevered hate-filled Arab fanatics an irrestible dainty: Isreal.  When the Great Satan superpower attacks the impoverished Afghanistan, bin Laden will have accomplished what he set into motion on my birthday, September 11, 2001 — justification for the Arab world to retaliate against the United States.  And since the Arab states with nuclear capability have no launch vehicles capable of reaching the United States, they will retaliate by striking Isreal who they hate even more than the United States.  This is why I oppose a military retaliation against bin Laden, the Taliban, or Afghanistan. 

He is revolting, an ugly and disgusting soul who seeks nothing good for anyone, yet claims holiness.  He very effectively is gaining power for the sole purpose of feeding his insatiable pride in the same way Popes and nations have been doing it for centuries; by claiming to serve God.  I would like nothing more than for a cruise missle to flick him like a snot from the face of the earth, but I don’t think we would get him, and besides, that’s exactly the attempt he wants us to make.  Everything he wants we must oppose.  Osama bin Laden is the closest that humankind has ever come to the Anti-Christ; he may yet prove to be. 

Posted in | Tagged , , , , , | Comments Off on This story piqued my apocalyptic

Israeli Foreign Minister Shimon Peres

Posted on September 18, 2001 by joe
Israeli Foreign Minister Shimon Peres told CNN: “The world is facing an unbelievable danger and we have to put aside secondary skirmishes.”

Why is it that only Isreali politicians tell it like it is?  Here in America we swim in our political leaders’ soothing rhetoric — we elect them for their ability to tell us what we want to hear.  There is a nobel purpose in attempts to minimize fear and terror.  But let us not be deluded, as any rational person is wont to do in this situation; we are indeed facing an “unbelievable danger.”. 

And from the same article:

Arafat ordered his security commanders not to fire on Israeli targets even when under fire from Israeli forces — the first time he had told his police officers not to shoot back in self-defense if attacked.

This scares me.  Enemies ally themselves — without first resolving their enmity — only under mortal threat.  Isreal and Palestine are indistinguishable to a re-entry vehicle, and Jerusalem lies within minutes of an Afghani ballistic missile.  I can’t believe I am even saying these things, it is all so unthinkable.  But it is also visciously real. 

“God bless us, every one..  –Tiny Tim, from Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol.

Posted in | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | Comments Off on Israeli Foreign Minister Shimon Peres

Doorbell woke me.  Hours ago. 

Posted on September 17, 2001 by joe

Doorbell woke me.  Hours ago.  It was Bobby the cab driver, not Bobby the one I love.  Funny, it interrupted a dream of Bobby the one I love:. 

He was standing in the sun, turning as if he had just started to walk away, or as if something behind him had drawn his attention away from me.  His hair was not the usual light brown, thinning and receding slightly.  His hair in the dream was thick and long, it was so bright it looked white, even luminous.  His body was the same as in real life, trim and muscled, sexy.  But even that seemed different; his skin had more than just the usual warm glowing tan.  It seemed brighter, too, in a way, and more precious, more valuable — like gold that had turned to platinum. 

Before answering the door, while stumbling around still half-asleep, I thought maybe the dream was a premonition; I thought that maybe it would be Bobby at the door, the one I love. 

It was the cab driver.  He’d shaved his head since the last time I saw him.  “Today’s not a good day,” I croaked, my eyes still squinty with sleep.  Bobby the cab driver comes when he wants to fuck.  We suck and lick — never kiss — and he bends me over and pumps it in.  Then he leaves.  Quick simple sex.  He’s the same age as Bobby the one I love (31), but he’s not half as cute, and not near as sexy.  Later on, when I’m horny, I’ll think, “Why the hell did I let him go?  Why didn’t I just let him do me?  Jeesh.”. 

I dreamt of Bobby the one I love the night before last as well.  In that dream his naked, lanky, sleeping body was suspended just slightly above my head and to my left in the branches of a tree; his limbs were splayed out in a random though comfortable pose, his face and pelvis were both turned away from me, concealing their details.  I thought, “He is peaceful there, I should not disturb him.”.  The tree was in the city. 

When I woke I had to wonder why I saw him in a tree; one never wonders these things while dreaming them.  It seemed as if he had fallen from a great height and, caught by the branches of a tree, was uninjured and peacefully asleep.  But for some reason that made me very sad, I was not allowed to touch him. 

Posted in | Tagged | Comments Off on Doorbell woke me.  Hours ago.