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Friday, December 3, 2010

Asphalt Has no Heat of Its Own

Redemption is overrated.

There really isn't such a thing is there? I think of the book of Job, you remember that, in the bible right? Well, if memory serves, he was an upright man and no sin was found in him. It didn't mean he was perfect, it meant that he wasn't a bad guy. And yet he was tested with a disease, poverty, losing his house and children, even his reputation. Sometimes I sit back and I think of myself as him. I was a good man...well I believe I was. I never fucked anyone over, but I have been known to use the word fuck too often. I never stole anything of value. I mean I took pens home from the job in my top pocket, but it was never done maliciously. I never beat anyone up, never swindled, but I was a good businessman. I was always fair, disciplined, protected the weak, generous to the poor, gave priority to women and children, blah, blah, blah.

And yet, I have to go the path of Job. Lose everything, live on the streets, live off money given to me from others and hand-me-down clothing. What the fuck did I do to deserve this? Use the word fuck too often? I had to go to a food pantry today to get enough food for the week, my cupboards went so dry I used a dust rag to collect dinner off the shelves for last night. And I'm walking downtown to this food pantry, you see, thinking about my most favorite television shows. I would have to say, my most favorite is Human Target. It's a story about a very bad man, now seeking redemption for all the heinous acts committed by him in the past, so he helps people now instead.

Then that got me thinking. My next favorite show is Rescue Me. It's a story about an active FDNY fireman seeking redemption for losing his close cousin and so many other fire fighters at 9/11. Then comes my next show, Battlestar Galactica, the new one, not the old one from the 70's. This story is about a rag tag fleet, being mercilessly pursued by non human creatures, seeking redemption from the decadence of their excessive colonies, razed to the ground as if by an act of god. Thusly loosing everything they own to run destitute and practically starving through space.

Then, when I get back from the pantry, I read a link left to me by one of my longest readers about the life of John Newton. Another Phoenix, walking from the ashes of destruction and hardship to be driven to seek redemption for past acts. I don't know. Why is redemption such a theme for "Two for one sale on Redemption, second floor." What is the context of redemption, and is that shit real?

Well, in the context that I understand it is forgiveness for past actions. But here's my problem. I was never a bad man prior to 9/11. Why did I have to undergo that shit? But that's besides the point. The Bible speaks of an eye for an eye. Now redemption to me is repaying a fault with something of like or equal value. Meaning, if I burn down your barn, I have to pay for a new one. Or build you a new one. Or give you my teenage daughter as a wife (I know you ladies out there hated that, but that's all I could think of. Maybe that's why I'm going to Hell in a hand basket).

So to make retribution, which is actually RE- TRIBUTE- ACTION, giving back tribute, or value for value, I need to go to everyone that I faulted and give back equally what I have taken. One problemo with that. I don't even remember half the shit I might have done to friends or relatives in the past. Who's keeping count of that shit? Mother Nature, the creator, a higher power, the universe, or just plain Life. Who's got the scorecard that they are reading from?

Hell, I don't think I was half as bad in my youth as Bill Gates, so why does he gets to be the richest man on Earth, enjoying life to it's fullest, and I'm licking dust from a cupboard? I know, it's that damned SCORECARD! And then it came to me. Out of the blue! When we are born, LIFE prints out our scorecard. It has the amount of years you have to live as innings. Each year, a cosmic referee keeps count as to the runs you make each inning. Now since this is the thing, guess what? This is the Galactic Series,  not the World Series, the Galactic Series. Check it out!

I have a scorecard, you have a scorecard, they have a scorecard, everybody on this planet has a Galactic scorecard when born. So we are all in the same ballgame of life. We make our scores in an inning, and they are ALL TABULATED. Get it? All of our scores in the inning of one year are tabulated on New Years day, and an average score is printed up. Those below the average get shit next year. The amount dependent of how low you were on the average. Those above get benefits the next year,  depending on the same criteria. So, it's a galactic baseball game.

There's refs and bats and bases and all that shit. So redemption must mean hit as many runs as possible so as to beat the Galactic Average. Somehow I slowed down, dipped below the average, and been plummeting ever since. Well, does that mean that I have to find God, like John Newton? I mean, I kind of agreed with him when he said: "...but I loved sin." Yeah, there are some things that you just can't get out of your system. Fornication and drunkenness are my favorite two. Hey, is drunkenness even in the ten commandments? Hold on! Hmmmm, that's fucking interesting. Fornication and drunkeness aren't even mentioned in the Ten Commandments. They must be somewhere else in the bible then.

So what. Sin is sin, right? I'm just one of the lost souls that has to pay for his up front with cash. My credit is no good here on this planet. Maybe my next life it will be better. Then I can Bonk and Gulp to my heart's content. But here's the problem with that too. You don't get to remember ANY of your lives, so what good is it to live better if I never know about it. That's more bullshit. Well, as we move towards the yuletide spirit, I think this year I'm going to play an agoraphobic Grinch and keep my ass at home.

The guys are propping Christmas trees on the sidewalks. People are wearing heavier clothing. The winds have been growing stiff, carrying all the debris of the streets through the air angrily. I haven't got the newspaper-wrap yet (that's when a sheet of newspaper flies through the air, hits you in the face, and wraps around your head), and soon it will be cold and flu time.

I'd better get ready for three things.....

Cutting a better scorecard next year, alcohol and fornication!

Hobobob

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