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 ooc- Oh boy, here we go. This originally started out as something else entirly. An outlet to post the stories of a character I really enjoyed portraying, even if most no one else did. (Let's face the facts, here.) Doesn't seem to be the case, now the ooc post are growing in number. Holy hell, this might become an actual journal. How alarming in a 'post yer thoughts.com' kinda way. Very mainstream. Oh well. 

I guess it won't alter the validity of anything I wish to post, and dammit, I's feels likes postings...

I watched a documentary just a few moments ago about the nature of Jesus, particuairly he not being who many say he was, accompanied by the 'peculiar absence of God' scenario. The narrator struck me as a potentially angry, arrogant little man, much like the people he attempted to decry, and seemed more interested in proving people wrong that having a debate. I never found it anything but easy to be sarcastic or patronizing of religion, so forgive me for not offering this angry little man points for creativity. In fact, it's about as stale as someone telling a fat person they're "a big fat fatty fat guy" and expecting it to come as a shock them, as if the indivual being insulted had no idea of said predicament and this wasn't the thousand or so time he's heard it. 

I can't help but feel rather bad for aethiests, just as I might those who tend to be unflichingly fundamentalist. One on side, you have a black castle, the other side a white. They like to shout out their view from these castle ramparts, which are forged from a mortar and stone of supporters who's rock-hard conviction provide incredible support and defensive capabilities in the face of anything that isn't more of their own brand of support.  These castle are of such similar make, design and in the same locale, so far beyond us peasents who fail to grasp their infalability, we can't help but look up and be awed by their impressive display. However, their shouts are, in fact, the anthesis of one another. 

The white castle believes whole-heartedly in some cause that involves an idealogy steeped in traditions, which are often taught to young, impressionable minds to instill a morality that many feel they may lack otherwise. 

The black castle does not believe in this idealogy, often relying more on observance of the area around them. Due to many knowing only tradition when we first begin listening, as thats what many we look to begin telling, many of the black castle knights are former white castle knights holding one fuck of a grudge.

These two castles, much like everyone else, can never full know what the hell is going on, no one can, which seems like the onli ineffiable truth: perception will universially vary. No matter how much alike things may be, no one will necessarily think exactly the same way as another, as the experiences we percieve are just as universially varied and are no doubt catalysts to our own reasoning and sense of being.

 Two castles, so alike in dignity, in fare paranoia where our story lay...

These castles both seem so interested in proving they are right, or that the other is wrong, they seem to mirror one another through a glass darkly, and thus is our image rather blurry.  

The moral of our little story? It really doesn't matter what castle you choose to wall yer stubborn ass up in, if your not willing to go outside the walls and boundries and attempt to transcend the notion that we may never understand the grander-fuck-scheme of things, your just going to wind up following some banner around and marching off to your invisible war with no real attainable objective when you could be doing the small, seemingly unimportant things that make like worth fucking living since the big things tend to run the gamut of being horribly depressing. 

If your too busy simply shouting to hear what may be said to you outside your castle, your just part of the mortar, a static thing that eventually is mentally assimilated into the mass of other stones, forming the central core of whatever conviction you may have: rigid, unyeilding...ultimatly an inanimate object as worthy of consideration as...well...a brick. 

We may never know what's going on. That doesn't bother me. What really tends to make me wonder isn't why were here, but why I'm stuck here with people saying they know why I'm here, whether it be the stork brought me, God meld me out of clay, or the procreation of the species. Frankly, I don't give a flying fuck all, I could be the dream of some bored ass night watch man from bizzaro world, and if that's what I choose to believe, prove me wrong, asshole, and see if I, in fact, give a shit. 

Maybe I'll start catajorizing my own views in accordance to my affinity for alcoholic beverages as it corresponds nicely to my current predicament. Or maybe, I'll continue to try to enjoy talking about the possibility of almost anything, picking and choosing that which I think would benefit me and those around me, such as doctrines of science, but portions of the 10 commandments, the 4 noble truths and 8 fold path, the beautiful and inspiring poerty of the Quran, the books of the bible as well as  the new research on stem cells, and the new and old testament, as I come across them. Why? Cause I can. And why shouldn't I? Also, think I might through a bit of Dyonisus in there for kicks to spice up the old love life. 

Blasphemy, heretic, asshole, ya ya, heard it before, but your not going to agree with me unless I agree whole-heartedly with you, so, again, ask me if I give a shit. (I don't, ha ha)

I guess I'm just happy with being able to think about all this stuff in a manner which allows me to be pretty much open to anything, even if I can have a rather abrasive sense of humor about it. (Part of my insufferable charm, I assure you.)

So I guess that's it. 

In the beginning, there was Labatt blue, and then, God created  fake id, and there was guiness. 

God saw that guiness was good and, in turn, created whiskey. Whiskey begot scotch, and scotch begot more beer, woo hoo!

And thus we prayed at the porcelin shrine and we gave ourselves over to the holy wine, (but not much, wine just ain't my thing, I much prefer sanctified shots of holy hard booze) and other spiritual and spirituous beverages on the sabbath, as well as saturday, friday, weekends in general. (and sometimes, right after work, fuck me, I'm pious)

And, as it's written here, we give ourselves over to the trinity:

In the name of the Whiskey, the Stout, and the various other holy spirits. 

Beer bless you. 





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