Wednesday's Sexy Word of the Week

Tempestuous

Let me address one thing, quickly. Our sexy words are not chosen because of their definitions necessarily but their sounds. Just to give you a little clue as to what we're looking for we love voiceless dental fricatives (not a totally unsexy little phrase right there), bilabial plosives and nasals of almost any variety. That's just the consonants.

Carrying on...

Tempestuous. Like the way that 'MP!' hits? Me too. Oh, the esses are so seductive, aren't they? I want to hold that last one for days: tempestuoussssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss. Allora, what does this word mean?

Well, my typical source Dictionary.com let me down, well, okay, not let me down per se, but they just don't have near as cool a definition as the New Webster's Dictionary, 1990 ed. (yes, I have ancient dictionaries lying around the house. shit.)

Tempestuous-------adj. very stormy; turbulent; subject to storms of passion.

Ha! I just like the last little part there. "Storms of passion." Nice.

For posterity I'll include Dictionary.com's version, too. But I'm warning you, it's not near as cool.

1. characterized by or subject to tempests: the tempestuous ocean.
2. of the nature of or resembling a tempest: a tempestuous wind.
3. tumultuous; turbulent: a tempestuous period in history.

Told you.

So I haven't been thinking too much about enlightenment these days. Other than my own, that is. I mean, I could throw some random shit out there but we don't want that. We want substance. We want Truth. We want reality and how to deal with it. Here's just one thing that I think is fun and sort of comes from my Buddhist background:



Nothing. Why is it so scary? Are we so attached to things--material and otherwise--that we can't just let go and hold nothing? See nothing? Hear nothing? Say nothing? Try being very silent and still. Try emptying your mind and area. No reason for being for just a few minutes. I could tell you what happens but I'm not a surprise spoiler. Trust me, it's worth it. Nothing.

Growing Up

So the BSHB/G and I (and a few other friends) where at a music show the other night. The artist on stage was one that is basically the very reason we're all together. Or at least, that I'm there among them. She said "I think I'm over him. I'm going upstairs."

So what is it when you outgrow a particular musical influence? It's not as if we don't love what he did for us in our times of hardship and uncertainty? Right? I'm sure I'll never skip past his songs when they pop up in shuffle mode. But, yeah, I'm sort of in the same boat. Thanks, dude, for doing it. We're grateful for you getting us through. We're going to move on now but we will never forget you.

And with that, another time of our lives passes by.

Happiness is a Dirty T-Shirt (worn inside out)

Give up on trying to be everything you've been told you should be. There are simpler goals. And far more fulfilling. It doesn't always have to be about grandeur. Sometimes it's about nothing at all. And how, exactly, does nothing make you feel? Good? Bad? Medium?

There's a concept I've been working on and I like to call it channelling the aesthetic. The goal, put simply, is to find the beauty in whatever is in front of you and embrace it. Then once you've noticed it yourself, shine it outward so that everyone else will notice. See? You've grabbed a beautiful part of the world and held it up for everyone else to see.

Try practicing this concept while sweeping, driving, riding the elevator, or watching someone pick out a dress. Seriously, it's amazing.

Wednesday's Sexy Word of the Week

Semantics. That's right. Say it like you mean it. Semanticsssssss. Mmmmmm. Turned on yet?

–noun (used with a singular verb)
1. Linguistics.
a. the study of meaning.
b. the study of linguistic development by classifying and examining changes in meaning and form.

more

Also, why do people bitch and moan so fucking much? It's starting to get on my nerves. Shit, man, if you would just shut up and take it, I promise, it wouldn't be as bad as you're making it out to be. And maybe I'm not annoyed so much at the complaining but at the poor wording and expression of it. If someone can say something eloquently, anything at all, I'm happy. But if you can't even string together one coherent sentence so that your audience is aware of what the fuck you're talking about, drop it. (yes, i am totally aware of the irony on display)

This Is Just to Say

Hotly debated and fiercely defended is the concept of love.

It is maligned and revered all at the same time.

Why are we so caught up by it?

It makes our fingers tingle and our legs ache.

Sometimes we can't eat or sleep.

We cry when it ends and we cry when we realize it's so so good.

Poets find it fascinating and cannot leave it alone.

It seems that everyone longs for it though few ever find it.

"I'm in love."

"I hate love."

"I believe in love though I fear its consequences."

"You're crazy!"

I just wanted to say a little bit this morning about the fact that love is one of the more controversial factors of life. Who, where, when, why and how all apply. And we are rarely able to put any of these into words. To be sure, we all love being loved and sometimes it's the only reason we end up loving the other. The BSHB/G says I'm in love with falling in love. And sometimes I think that's true. But not just love. I am in love with lots of things. It's just that love is a more dangerous one. It breaks your heart. There's a Drive-By Truckers song that says "The very nature of love is to grieve when it's over." And it will end. Maybe it won't end until you die, but it will. We know this much about it. Does that mean we should avoid it?

How about approaching love like any other hedonistic experience? Embrace the beauty while it's there. Enjoy that rush in the pulse and the flutter in the belly. Do it right. Passionately. Take it in. All of it. Then, when it's over, cry a little, smile at what you had, hope for its encore, smoke a cigarette, write a poem, take a walk and get ready to do it all over again.

Love is not to be avoided. Just do it knowing that it is as fleeting as the winter cold and the summer heat: certain to fade and sure to return.

Thoughts of Another from a Secluded River

My God! I'm thinking, what incredible shit we put with most of our lives--the domestic routine (same old wife every night), the stupid and useless and degrading jobs, the insufferable arrogance of elected officials, the crafty cheating and the slimy advertising of the businessmen, the tedious wars in which we kill our buddies instead of our real enemies back home at the capital, the foul, diseased and hideous cities and towns we live in, the constant petty tyranny of automatic washers and automobiles and TV machines and telephones--! ah Christ!, I'm thinking, at the same time that I'm waving goodby to that hollering idiot on the shore, what intolerable garbage and what utterly useless crap we bury ourselves in day by day, while patiently enduring at the same time the creeping strangulation of the clean white collar and the rich but modest four-in-hand garrote!
Such are my--you wouldn't call them thoughts, would you?--such are my feelings, a mixture of revulsion and delight, as we float on the river, leaving behind for a while all that we most heartily and joyfully detest. That's what the first taste of the wild does to a man, after having been too long penned up in the city. No wonder the Authorities are so anxious to smother the wilderness under asphalt and reservoirs. They know what they're doing; their lives depend on it, and all their rotten institutions. Play safe. Ski only in clockwise direction. Let's all have fun together.

--Edward Abbey, Desert Solitaire