They cut the hardline! Get out of...

Modot, in their infinite wisdom and planning, severed the T1 line that serves most of Grindsville...this is not a small matter. No phones, no internet, no fix to it in the near term either so...

But I shouldn't be posting from the grind too often anyway, right?

Sigh...we're off to the doctor for baby visit #2..more news about that later...have a good humpday!

Benticore
Out

The master paused to wipe his heavy brow...

The interim stages of any project, the 'Great Swampy Middle', if you like, is fraught with pitfalls, dead falls, grace-falls, pratfalls and every other fall you (or I) can think of. You want, as an artist bringing an ephemeral, beautiful idea to life, to breath life into your vision, manifest it into this world in all it's wondrous glory.

I am not an artist. I just want to paint a damn chair. But sadly, I too have a vision, after all my efforts in trying to avoid it, and I am starting to care about my stupid green chair.

This isn't what I signed up for. I'm not supposed to care about the stupid chair, I'm not supposed to see these grand visions of what the chair could be, adorned with color and style and grace.

I'm not supposed to still like it with the added pressure of giving a damn...

Lord help me, but I do...

Benticore
Out

As the chair turns...

I forgot to post the new pic of the blank canvas-in-chair-form that I've been working on so forgive the lateness. I mixed up two greens and a white in an attempt to reach a mysterious eastern jade, set beneath a failing sun.

Cbabi said to me 'thats a nice green you've got there.'

Yes. Yes it is.

What is the final goal? I still haven't the foggiest notion but I might go to Hobby Lobby for few supplies and some wild ideas that I can steal.

Benticore
Out

There is no respite...

Stubbie: Elmo swarms devoured the horrified crowd...

Benticore
Out

Five minutes on Stubbies...

...and this is the result...I'm scared momma. I'm scared!

Benticore
Out

Welcome Elijah!

On a cold, wet January afternoon Elijah Christopher James Mooney was born into the world at a healthy 6lbs 15oz. He's happy, healthy, and ready to start the Capoeira lessons! I convinced Dad to wait a few years though...

Benticore
Out

A smaller blank page in 3D

This is the form of my new blank page. My lovely wife signed me up for painting class with Cbabi Bayoc to help with the stone grinding stress in my life...you'll see the finished product in 6 weeks (we just did primer this week). It was a relaxing time and I look forward to next week.

Benticore
Out

Why not?

This is a test from the desk and pic of the mountain...lets see if it works!

Test number 3

Still Testing...

The Happiest Monster

It just warms the cockles of my heart...

Benticore
Out

Gotta get movin...

This is a friendly announcement to let you know that my new blog is finally up (sort of) and I'll be making the slow transition there over the next few weeks. It's powered by wordpress and hosted through my wife's website and domain name but allows me to do more than Blogger beta. The latest posts are there (the last 100 or so) but there are still a lot of little things I need to fix.

http://blaquepen.com/epicblackvillainy/

Check it out and leave a comment or a suggestion

Benticore
Out
(I know the text is too small...I'm working on it! Oh, and Thanks to my wife for the wondeful work she did last night to get the thing finally up and working! YAY better half!)

Cause somedays, it be like that....

Essence Of NYC: A Play in One Act

Bimbo tourist #1: Anyway, so when he pulled it out of me it made this farting noise, and I know it wasn't a fart because it didn't smell, and... It was just really embarrassing.
Bimbo tourist #2: Quip.
Bimbo tourist #1: What?
Bimbo tourist #2: A quip. The farting noise, it's called a 'quip.'
Bimbo tourist #1: Oh, they have a name for it? Wow.
Bimbo tourist #2: Oh, totally. It happens to a lot of people.
Stranger: Um, that's not right.
Bimbo tourist #2: Excuse me, sir?
Stranger: No, it's 'queef.'
Bimbo tourist #2: Wait, what?
Bimbo tourist #1: I think he's saying his name is 'Queef' or something.
Bimbo tourist #2: Oh, sorry. Excuse me, Queef?
Stranger: No... Oh, lord. The sound, it's 'queef.'
Bimbo tourist #2: Who's a 'queef?' What's going on?
Bimbo tourist #1: I think he's one of those crazy subway guys you hear about. I think he's telling us he's gay.
Stranger: I can hear you, and I'm not... What? That's 'queer,' you ingrate!
Bimbo tourist #1: Here's some money for you, sir. Buy your boyfriend a nice grocery cart or something.
Stranger: What?! Does it look like I'm homeless to you? I'm wearing fucking YSL over here... I ain't queer and I ain't homeless. You ignorant, you skinny, Paris Hilton-wannabe whores. All I was saying to you was that when your sleazy-ass friend over here pulled her boyfriend's dick out of her STD-ridden pussy, the word...
Bimbo tourist #1: I'm not following... Is he speaking Cockney or something?
Bimbo tourist #2: I don't know. Are you allowed to mace crazy hobos?
Stranger: ...I'm not fucking crazy!
Bimbo tourist #2: Of course you aren't, sir.
Passenger: Oh, shut your mouth, both of ya, or I'm gonna whoop both your scrawny asses, you hear?
Stranger: Thank you. All I was saying was...
Old lady: Ah, hell no! Can't you see this conversation has gone past anyone in this damn subway's comprehension? Know when to drop it, brother. Know when to drop it.
Bimbo tourist #2: [Mouthing] Oh my god.
Bimbo tourist #1: I know. That was intense.
Stranger, muttering to himself: ... Last time I ever take a subway... Unbelievable shit I put up with... Fucking Civics... Unreliable fuckers...

--L train

via Overheard in New York, Nov 28, 2006

Benticore
Out

a quick lesson in humility and diction (UGH! The pun! The horrid, horrid pun...)

An actual conversation with my daughter this weekend

*Daughter points to something on the mantle*
Daughter: Whats that daddy?
ME: Thats a Clock.
Daughter: Cock?
Me, a bit unnerved: No, no...Clock...Clock
Daughter, proudly: Cock!
Me, having heart-attack: No baby...it's very important to say the L...Lock..lets just call it a Lock
Daughter: Lock?
Me: Right! Now go to your room...

Benticore
Out

Words abound...

I'm not going to beat this already undead horse into the ground...You've probably heard the cries of shocked indignation and outrage that someone so loved for a character portrayed on TV could have issued such an hideous racial slur in context and with vigor and vehemence. That his apology seems to have been less than favorable has done his image no favors, to be sure, but before you light the torches, write up your 'Do not buy' list of advertisers and endorsers, and innundate your friends lists with multitudes of forwards full of righteous fury, I ask you take one step back and three to the left.

I mentioned on Dwights blog some time ago, about the power of words and how the N-word, in particular has such a strange and necrotic effect on any sort of intelligent debate on race and racial issues in the country. As black people, is it enough to condemn someone who is non-black for using the slur but then allow and relish in it's use in popular culture by some of our favorite comedians? You can't have your cake and eat it too and you can't be surprised that if you cuss in front of your children, eventually, they will learn to swear just as well.

Dave Chapelle listed, among many other things, an intriguing (to me) reason why he left his staggeringly successful and popular show and a check for $50 million. He felt that his satire about race and racial issues was becoming so mainstream that the behaviors he was lampooning were being emulated, not because they were bafoonish and stupid and necessarily the subjects of ridicule, but because they were funny. He really started to feel the effects of seeing the word proliferate all over cable television, without editing, and without much fanfare. He was instrumental in helping to bring the word back into mainstream usage by all peoples, for good and for bad. Perhaps he had hoped (and I believe this) that by talking and using the word and making the whole thing so utterly ridiculous, that he could rob it of some of it's power to shape our dialog and get in the way of actually solving our problems of race. But I think he saw that goal unsurprisingly derailed.

While the Michael Richards Incident is sad, it's really just a flash in the pan of a much larger debate about the identity of african americans and our relationship to all aspects of our own popular culture, both what was homegrown and authentic, as well as what is reflected back onto us or fabricated and fed down our throats. THAT debate is much more complicated, harder to tackle, and ultimately, nearly impossible to solve.

Does knowing Michael Richards used a racial slur (and he really went to town on the guy...it didnt just slip out...) make his work on Seinfeld any less funny? Do you stop watching the show in syndication? I never watched the show (The TV gets turned on for sports, Grey's Anatomy, and the Xbox360) religiously but I've caught a couple of episodes, some of which were gut-wrenchingly hilarious. But I noticed (as with Friends and a couple of other High profile, mid to late 90's sitcoms) the strange absence of black people with any sort of actual merit in the show. Sometimes, there would be no black folks at all. But then again, sometimes I just look real hard for stuff like that. But then again, its very easy to notice.

Anyway...um...didn't I say something about not beating this dead horse?

*Kicks the rotting corpse of a horse*

Thats it...I'm done

Turkey Day is fast upon us folks! I hope you all are hip to the Brine method of cooking your turkeys. If not, I suggest you get yourselves and those responsible for cooking your bird HERE with all alacrity and due haste. Your tastebuds will thank you as the method will ensure your bird will be the most succulent your mouth has ever had the pleasure of dining upon.

The Sickness spreads! Cammy, our dear sweet child, has contracted a contagion of the nasty throat-filled with phlegm, runny nose, low grade fever variety. I stayed home with our sickly princess yesterday and Grandma has the duty today. Normally school is one of her favorite activities and she regularly asks on days she isn't going if the schedule can somehow be arranged to accomodate her desire for learning and fun. Today, she just wanted to go back to sleep. Poor thing.

Tune in next week when Benticore, Raquita, Grandma, Great Grandma, and Anubis serve as phlegm incubators in the small 1-act play entitled; 'Not without my Tissue!'

Benticore
Out

The Hardest Thing about coming back...

The Hardest Thing about coming back..

Is actually coming back. Gentle readers, let me tell you of a place, both strange a terrible. It is the place without the Blog, an empty, searing wasteland where curious thoughts tumble blindly, without purpose or audience. Nothing lives there; the ground is an ugly scrabble of dirt and dead roots of plants long devoured by time, the air dry and empty, pulling the moisture from your mouth greedily, like a suckling pig made of wind.

I wandered this place for weeks, lost, confused, alone. I carried with me a heavy burden: My life had pulled me into this nether region of woe and yet, as I stayed away, I began to Forget the way back, the way home.

That is until I realized something so simple yet profound to me. I am not Jesus.

Let that sink in. You might wonder, gentle reader, why I had confused myself with Jesus (not the one who sold you that used boombox off the back of his truck in 1987, but, you know, JC...The Man!) in the first place. Indeed, I had not known that I had tried to walk in his footsteps until a chance meeting and a non-sequitor from a well meaning but overly pedantic lawyer unfocused me and made me realize what I was doing. Lawyers? Ah yes...perhaps I should start at the beginning...

During the months of August, September, and October, my life took on complexity of cartoonish proportions. My father was Illegally jailed for non-compliance of a contempt of court charge dealing with his ongoing divorce/seperation with his 2nd wife who might just be the most evil person I know. He had sunk so far into depression that going to Jail was a Lift but he was not read his rights, he was not allowed to post bond or bail and was not even told the specific charge on which he was held.

My mother succumbed to the evils of alcoholism and we (myself and my wife, Raquita) were forced to put her in a Nursing home against her will. She agreed to give me power of attourney, and though she didnt want to go into the home, she knew that it was the best place for her.

My wife's sister got married.

My daughter started school (last week)

IT seemed as if life was not just throwing me curveballs, but fastballs, changeups, bean-balls, footballs, soccer balls, boomerangs, bean bags, bowling bawls, and a life sized blow-up doll of Pee-Wee Herman, just for it's own sense of evil comic absurdity.

And I thought I had to shoulder it all myself.

So I left and wandered the blogless wilderness for 40 days, soldiering on in what I thought was the true essence of manliness. You know, silently stoic, going down with the ship, holding together when other, mere mortal men, crack and scream under the pressure? Truly stupid stuff, but it seemed the right thing to do at the time, from my warped, fatigued point of view.

But then I met my fathers lawyer (the one my lovely wife secured for us). He talked about my father's case for awhile (my father has since been released, the Judge apologized for letting the whole thing happen and our lawyer is grinning about the chance to really ream the other lawyer for what he did to my father) but the conversation oddly segued into his experience with many pastors across the country, including our own pastor and his entourage with which he is never seen without in public. He said that Jesus, though he had his disciples, walked alone. Jesus carried the burdens and walked for the sins of all of us. Thank god that you and I dont have to.

My world stopped. Right. There.

I am not jesus. I dont have to walk alone. I dont have to drown in this guilt, and stress and regret. I dont have to shoulder it alone.

It was an epiphany, one that I should have known all along but has lost sight of on the way. From that day forward, my life, though no less complex, became much Lighter. I hugged my wife. I kissed my kid. I got my father out of jail. But I didnt come back to the bloggosphere.

The epilogue: My mother is doing well, gaining weight and is happier. She's surrounded by people who know her and a few who love her, including her own mother, and though she gets bored, is much healthier there than on her own where she could be by herself and not allow anyone to see her (which is exactly what happened).

My Father is moving ahead with the divorce proceedings and has gone back on his medication. He told me that it must be working because he found himself singing in the car with the radio off. He's never done that in his life before and it made me so happy I nearly teared up in the vietnamese restaurant we were having lunch in.

Raquita's Sister's wedding went off without a hitch, my daughter stole the show as the flower girl and nearly burst my heart with pride as she walked down that isle. I couldn't help but shout 'Thats my girl! Thats my daughter!' to the rest of the church as she calmly walked down the isle, throwing her flowers and reminding me, painfully, that in 25 years or so, I will be walking her down that isle to give her hand to some guy she's fallen in love with....sigh...

Cammy loves school, she's having fun, learning well, and charming the pants off of her classmates and teachers. She cried the first few times we left her and now just wimpers a litte. The joy on her face when she sees us both we go to pick her up just lifts my head every day.

Me? I'm doing well. I'm starting a new excercise and meal program with my wife so we can eat healthier and lose some weight. I havent had a chance to write a lick in these past two months as nearly every night has had me either putting out fires or lighting them, but I look forward to the lull between thanksgiving and christmas.

So, to recap. I'm back. I'm NOT Jesus. I'm happy though my life is still full. And I've returned to blogging actively, though my new site isn't up yet. It will hopefully go up this weekend once I find the perfect artwork to set the basic template off...

Benticore
*Back*
(Sorry it took so long amigos...thanks for the offers of help...funny that it took a lawyer to snap myself out of...myself...)

I'm on Vacation! Sort of...

powered by ODEO
*Play the music while you read if you want the sappy effect that I had when I wrote this post...or, if you've not the hunger for melodrama, skip it...see if I care...but seriously, play the music...not that I care, cause I, like, totally don't...*

DONT CALL IT A COMEBACK! Um...cause its not. Actually, it’s a comeback in reverse...a hiatus, if you will. I'm leaving the world of the bloggo for a minute so I can pay attention to the screaming, burning needs of my Real, Physical, Three-dimensional, Non-surreal, Other life, which, really, is almost never more than 2 of those things at the same time. Wanna see the laundry list of the things I’ve got to take care of in the next *checks non-existent watch*, which, incidentally, includes laundry? I didn’t think so. It DOES include healing my mother, busting my pops outta jail (in a completely legal, and sadly less-satisfying manner), finishing some review homework *waves to Sherri*, Laundry (see? Right there!), Bills, Cammy’s Playroom woodwork, Sister-in-law’s wedding, Spanish Translation work, treating my wife like the beautiful angel of mercy and love that she is (instead of, for instance, just saying it to her while smacking her with pillows, which I NEVER do…), enrolling Cammy in a school that will challenger her but not too much while not doing the Viking thing on my wallet (you know, rape, pillage, burn villages, heads-on-the-pike stuff), winterize the house…and…um

*rereads the last paragraph*

So…I knew you didn’t care to hear that list and I went ahead and did it anyway. That was totally rude of me, and I apologize. None of this is anything that I can’t handle (I being me and my wife, who backs me up on so much stuff I sometimes forget we’re not the same person, which goes up there with not hitting her with pillows (cause I hit myself with pillows sometimes to remind myself which ME I actually am)) but it ALL takes time, energy, FOCUS.

Anyway…I’ll be sort of hanging around, but don’t expect the award-winning blogs I’ve been blessing you all with *giggles uncontrollably*. But soon, once all the crazy blows over a bit, I’ll be back, the blog will look different (which I promised over the weekend and was disappointed when I learned I couldn’t just clap my hands three times and MAKE it happen), and I, hopefully, will have a little less stress in mi vida. So cool beans.

Well…that’s about it. I’ll see ya soon.

*turns out the light, locks the door, waves goodbye…*

Benticore
Out
(seriously, I’m not REALLY leaving. I’ll be commenting and stuff on other’s blogs, but…well…I think you know what I mean. Right? Oh, don’t cry! I’ll be right back! You won’t even miss me much! Promise!)