Gandhi Flakes

"Down on my knees, but not to pray, Hit so hard across the skull, it buckled my legs. They told me I had hell to pay, I came, I came too close to heaven, Had nothing to say for myself, I had to walk away" Alkaline Trio from "Fall Victim"

As the dose of equilibrium bringers started to take their serenity inducing toll I saw the color of the nurses eyes change from Montana sky blue to shitty Pittsburgh gray. It could have been the caustic cocktail of pills but I thought, maybe it was a miracle. Granted, it was no water to wine grand finale, but it was better than finding an image of Gandhi on a potato chip. Do you really think a food product would be the vessel of Gandhi's manifestation?

Why are we always looking for miracles? It makes about as such sense as a New Kids on the Block reunion. Every so often I see a filler story on the nightly news about a gaggle of simple minded ewe milling about in some Kansas guys front law because the proud owner of Dorothy's childhood home claims to have found an image of the Virgin Mary on a Saltine. The mob of hopeless wonder seekers wait for a momentary glimpse of the allegedly holy cracker with candles burning, chants being chanted, and vigil's being erected. They camp, pray, and tell the local reporters how they once found a Frosted Flake that looked like Elvis, but the awful people at Kellogg's had filed a lawsuit keeping them mum on the King shaped breakfast flake. It's the epitome of silliness.

Looking for a miracle is like asking a eunuch about sex. There are no answers in it for you, just more questions. I understand that in time of great despair we all hope that there is a magic cure for whatever ails us, a potion that will make everything better. The lottery ticket with all six numbers or the phone call from the Governor two seconds before your scheduled execution. The odds of these pixie dust fantasies coming true about are about the same as a black hole being found under the front seat of your sedan. Sure it happens, just not to you. Sorry to be the one to burst your bubble.

So I think we should stop looking. We collectively take a blood oath, Mafia style, that we will no longer spend any effort hoping for a vision or message from the Almighty. Because if you are apt to believe in a higher being that controls everything on this world, then maybe the Deity has a little more on his plate then spending time answering your prayers about a baseball games outcome, or your deepest wish that socks are on sale at Wal-Mart. Instead why not make an effort to save enough cash for some full priced stockings. Then if they are on sale, it's a miracle.

I have wanted to be a writer, a paid, that's my job, writer since I can remember, but up until today I've always hoped that it would fall into my lap, like Cherry Pie in a Warrant video. No real effort, just, boom, pie. It's not going to. Work will be required. I will have to face rejection and obstacles bigger than the Eliminator on American Gladiators (version 1). I'm going to have to make it happen. That's the new goal. And I am going to attain it. I will, of course, keep you up to date on my progress from time to time.

What goals would you like to work towards achieving in the next year?

Dixie Cup of Love: Those that can.