Sunday, May 29, 2005

What`s in your Yogurt?

Being back in Japan is wonderful. I always get to try all the new foods, and all the crazy ones too! Japan is notorious for health conscious diets, and nobody does or eats anything without knowing excatly what is in it and how it affects the body. I really missed the vending machines, and how you get a selection. It`s not just about the soda. You can get your Mountain Dew and Coka-Cola, but you also get an array of hot and cold tea, coffee, juice, and variety of vitamin drinks right from the machines. I`ve been craving things like Pocari Sweat, a sports drink made by a pharmasutical company.

Right now I`m trying something new. It`s Alovera Yogurt. It consists of real alo and alo chunks. It`s also green, so once you get past the snotty texture of the alovera chunks and the green coloring, it`s quite delicious! Well, I just thought I`d check in, and I will be sure to post some pics of my daily adventures, being as I was smart enough to get a digital camera for this trip.

Wednesday, May 25, 2005

A Video Gamer's Manifesto

I found this absolutely hillarious. For anybody who grew up playing video games that actually focussed on the game aspect an not the graphics you'll find this a hoot too. Just follow the link:

Sunday, May 22, 2005

American Toilet Cluture

People should have equal opportunities, and also men and women should all share equal rights and liberties. What many people do not realize however, is that many people have force the issues of equality from the standpoint that they want -in fact not to be equal, but rather, they want more than what anyone has been affording them. This also means that if it so happens that they gain more than you, thus upsetting the equality, that's fine as long as they are happy.

This isn't always the case, but look at Japanese women and how they have very few equal opportunity chances in the business world. Japanese high end management positions consist of less than 10% female gender, and to get high paying jobs is almost unheard of. This is the year 2005 and a modernized superpower like Japan still struggles with how the Japanese male perceives the female, inevitably causing weird rifts in the social and economic status of equality. History plays a small part, but it is funny how unwilling modern day Japanese lawmakers are when it comes to breaking down social gender roles.

In America, totally the opposite has occurred. Men and women have moved closer to becoming the same thing. Business women who amp up on pills become more alpha-male like to contend in a cut throat capitalistic bid for dominance, while their teenage suns are becoming more metro sexual and wearing fingernail polish, lipstick, and even eye-liner!

The worst thing to ever have happened to America is the inability to update and modernize its notions of political correctness. Not only racially, but also sexually. The gender's are confused, and homosexuals don't know what's going on either. Guys don't know how or when or even where to touch girls anymore and girls can barely tell the difference between desire and assault, flirtation and offensiveness, love and sexual abuse. It would be funnier if this was the same problem for the racial and ethnic issues, but it would be no less awkward.

Women have gained the right to dictate how they should be treated, the way the want to be treated, yet they managed to neglect to tell the male populace how the new set of rules works. And guys today are so afraid of lawsuits that they have become less social and more introverted. Women wonder why finding a man is hard these days? Give me a break.

So now we have more gender crisis in our culture than racial problems. Racial prejudice is a thing of the past; however, social class is becoming the new defining status. The more our capitalistic empire slips toward a social economy, the more we lose our democratic identities. We are gradually becoming less like individuals and more like two classes, a working class and an elite Yertle the Turtle class.

People used to kill each other off for some sneakers, desperately trying to find a way to express themselves (and those were the good old days), but now nobody would even notice. It's sad, but what are we to do?

How we define ourselves in the future will depend upon how we live our lives and the actions we make. Things don't appear to be getting any better. The confusion only seems to be amassing, and everyone else keeps on getting busier and busier. The world has changed drastically in the last 20 years, and the only thing that is for sure is that we're all unsure.

A political and economic war was waged recently on Iraq. Nobody knows if it was wrong or not. Opinions are split, and even the loudest voices can't seem to convince anyone that they have any facts. Terrorism grows with the confusion and enjoys playing with people’s fears as the more unsure we all become.

Relationships are failing by the truck loads. We could fill semi's full of divorced, twice-divorced, remarried, thrice remarried close to failure about to start my fourth husband types, but where would we send them? Moral decency is declining and children seem to be dictating that school is too cruel because the teacher's don't bow to their every whim. We have moronic children teaching our educators how to be obedient dogs, and nobody is getting any smarter. I can guarantee you that. If our kids were smart they wouldn’t take guns to school and emulate their favorite emulations, because we all know it’s all the videogames and movies fault because we don’t spend enough quality time teaching our own children good values and loving them.

Religious nuts are all picking on Christians, and even though there is a history with Christianity, you wonder why the gang bang? Are the ideals of Christianity so radical that we have to get rid of it? Last I checked it's been around before all these winy faces came out crying. Perhaps it's because they all fear it might have some metal to it? That perhaps there's something true there. Then again, you might buy it, you might not. Perhaps you need better marketing to believe in something?

The TV, the radio, the Internet, the billboards, the magazines, even the products we buy has advertising for other products we should buy! Why not just pump the advertising straight into our dreams, our subconscious mind is already drowning in Old Navy ads.

Celebrities are cool one moment, and the next they are the biggest political nincompoops out there.

The president is an old fashioned cowboy in an Armani suit.

Hippies are all fashion police without a cause.

Gangsters, even the hardest core, are all wannabe's listening to Marshal Mathers and his newest pop/rap/edit. M&M sings hate against pop stars when he's the biggest pop star of them all.

Movies make hundreds of millions of dollars in just a matter of hours, and people complain that they don't have enough money for food while filling up their gas guzzling SUV monster trucks and preordering a second helping of movie tickets on their all too expensively priced cell phones.

There's never any family time, so the cellular companies unite to save America's families by offering family calling plans, free conferencing, email, and more phones so we will always stay in touch. Where's the down time?

We're all stretched so thin we're ready to snap like a rubber band wound too tight, but we're sure the cell phone was perfect gift for 13 year old Cindy Whozit, because we want her to be safe at night. But the truth of the matter is, little Cindy uses her minutes by calling up her college aged boyfriend to come over and give her a good f*#k, and her parents at home feel all the better knowing she's a good girl with a cell phone.

How many people actually read books nowadays? And I'm not talking about your latest movie novelization or self help book or trashy novel, but real literature? How many read more than once a year anymore? How many people read a book a week? Yeah, that's what I thought. And while were on the topic of doing nothing and wasting our lives, how about reality television?

What kind of psychological study should be done on the culture which stays inside and watches "reality TV" because living life for real would be too artificial? What strange simulacrum have we entered into when the illusion is more tangible to us than the reality? How come every successful show on television has to spawn four other series of the same kind simultaneously? Where did the imagination and originality go? Where have all the good writers gone? Maybe they're off reading some books, but I doubt it.

More people hang out in Wal*Mart than they do at church on Sundays. More coffee shops consume our souls than we have time for, and what's the scariest occurrence of them all is, the World Wide Web has an infinite amount of blogs available to anyone with an opinion regardless of whether they ever had a point to begin with. Because the truth of the matter is, we're all so gosh darned important that we should read nonsense like this instead of Shakespeare.

If you've read this entire rant thus far, I commend you, but please, for God sake! Go read a book. Or plant a tree. Anything! Just don’t turn on your weekly dose of “Apprentice” or “Survivor.” I beg of you.

Little White Lies are Healthy!

I think there is definately a difference between egoism and actually deserving something. I make this point, because don't we all deserve to be loved? I suppose the good book is true, treat others how we ourselves wish to be treated, and if we do this lovingly, then we will benefit of love.

This means politely directing annoying people away as to not offend them. And agreeing with them when they ask you if your to busy as you attempt to escape their pressence. Or not screaming and running off spastically shouting profanities when your cousins newborn child looks like a frankenbaby and she ask you isn't it the most beautiful baby? Which makes me think even though lying is a sin, white lies are perfectly fine by God. In the first place, they help us relate lovingly to each other by not having to be brutaly honest to the point it hurts.

So, all I'm saying is, sometimes we have a right to want a little something. Greed isn't always bad. I want to love and I want love horribly, and I want it all the time. If this makes me a greedy person, then so be it. At least it's in the good kind of way.

Also, white lies serve us the greater purpose of being able to respond to our own imaginations.

The moment we are asked by our wives if they look fat, we automatically respond with, "Never! You look beautiful always!" Even when our wives our inevitably fat, we don't want to lower their self asteem.

Other occassion include ugly people. Often times when they are down and feeling blue, we will cheer them up by lying to them about how beautiful they are, and if they catch our shirade, then we tell them we meant that they were beautiful on the inside.

All of this is to ensure that fat and ugly people don't go insane and kill everyone on the planet.

Friday, May 20, 2005

Stop Dreaming About Love and Just Start Loving

Clay, of which God, who didn't exist, made man, who did. Such was the paradox of human life: its creator was fictional, but life itself was a fact. (Salman Rushdie, FURY)
A friend of mine has been going through the same melancholy heart ache of loneliness which I too once felt. It pangs me deeply to see people so desperate. It only goes to prove why so many people today seek companionship and fellowship by so many inadequate means. They try to be the best employee, make the most money, join the club on the hill, gain fame and fortune, try an online dating service, become part of the evening social life and join numerous others who also seek to fill that empty spot in their hearts.

Those who don't seek to fill it try to ignore it. They brush effortlessly over it, and put on their everyday mask, and they boost their egos to convince everyone that there is nothing wrong. They half convince themselves by such a well received and performed act that every single day they go about denying their true inner feelings.

I see this all the time. It saddens me to no end, but then one day I heard a sermon, of all things, by a Jewish Rabbi. He spoke about mankind’s universal desire for acceptance. We just want someone, anyone, to share our lives with. Sometimes we find them, if we are lucky enough, and other times we end up spiraling out of control losing our grasp on the true issues. Spiritual fulfillment lies hand in hand with the physical, but it is this greater acceptance, that single notion, which ignited a spark deep within me. The acceptance of being myself and being loved for who I am.

Terrorists seek power, but beyond that there is nothing but the pleasure and the rush of feeling in control. This would apparently, to anyone with a thought in their mind, appear like denial; the denial that one can't control everybody and everything. By nature mankind so often seems to go against the grain of something it cannot comprehend. Terror is irrational fear. It is the manipulation of ideas which become twisted and distorted for the cause of a few who will continuously bid for power; a never ending struggle to gain control over the uncontrollable. At one moment, I believe a man looses himself in the frenzy. Whether it is the heat of battle, the flow of a mob, or the self depression, lost within the argument or ideal itself, there is nothing in our world which can fill such emptiness in the soul. Salman Rushdie talks magnificently about other aspects of terrorism in his book “Step Across This Line,” which collects many of his nonfiction essays on the subject. I highly recommend it to anyone who has an opinion similar or even dissimilar to my own.

It takes the grace of God. And whether or not we believe, poets and philosophers have written endlessly on the subject of God. Science, even Darwinism, has settled on intelligent design theory, physics can't begin to explain it, and all the patterns continuously point us to the fact that beyond our reach, there is something greater. Yet those who can't see that what is beyond our reach is also beyond our comprehension continually attempt to classify it as other than divine, even when we are left with all of the clues like crumbs upon our plate; proof of the very existence of something awesome and divine.

So the question of belief can be scary for some. Those who are not well equipped cannot distinguish simple dogma from overwhelming faith. Those who are weak minded often confuse the two. It is always he who has a self serving desire that makes the mistake and blames the world for his error. The self hate then expands, and like a cancerous disease, it spreads because everyone who is in the same boat will feel the same remorse and inadequacy. This is what empowers haters above lovers. It's harder to love, because that would first require us to admit that we are not perfect, and open ourselves up freely for all those to see. This is the highest ideal, but the outcome is so often opposite the best possible conclusion. We clam up out of the fear of being hurt, persecuted, judged, the full weight of not understanding or being understood burdens us, and we prove our weakness by not loving. In fact, I know many people who lack the ability of love so entirely because they constantly run from it.

As for my friend who deals with a more personal experience of acceptance, I don't know what to say other than the heart and that constitution of a poet so great, that there sensitivity by nature makes them intuitive. They can see one step further down the road than most, and their hearts are capable of sharing so much love. Yet even poets wish to be accepted to some degree. Perhaps this is why so many poets come close to describing the sublime as they dabble in the rich emotional universe until they almost lose themselves to something greater. Yet I may remind the reader, that even the poet first needs to be inspired.

It is funny to me how many people are so self centered when it comes to love, or at least the ideals of love. I was the same way for a long time, skeptical about the social construct we try to classify as love. Our cynicism often begs us to classify love as a set experience, and when our experience is anything but what we have fantasized it to be, we are left let down. So many teen pregnancies happen because they want the physical connection which leads to the spiritual, but they so often are tragic situations too, because they never had it in them to carry out the self discipline needed in making the relationship work. They set aside the ability to love all together and replace it with a quick fix of physical pleasure hoping that lust will fill the deep spiritual void they are painfully aware of. Only love can fill such empty pockets and voids, and I’m afraid as long as people search in the wrong places for it, they won’t ever know the true experience of it. Love, I think, is much more than just and idea. It is a spiritual journey above all else, but so many weekend marriages and divorces of a generation make it seem but a game... a sport at best. We trivialize love so that marriage won’t hurt as much when it fails and we inevitably fail ourselves. We are left wondering why our fantasy let us down, but I must interject that perhaps we ourselves let love down. It wasn't until I stopped dreaming about my future and started working towards it that things fell into place.

This is to say, one day I woke up. This is often the best way to make one’s dreams come true. To wake up and smell the coffee and stop dreaming and so apply myself to the application of serving a deeper calling was my revelation. I realized I hadn't been serving God with all of my heart. So how could I serve a simple woman? I've ever only known to serve thyself. This was my corrupted notion of love. I became grotesque to me as my disillusionment lifted, and so I opened up to the possibility that perhaps it was in God's design that I was to be alone. Destined to loneliness may seem like a torment, but the deconstruction of my ego left me comforted. For the first time I knew there was a reason for my suffering, and I knew how to remedy it.

This I could live with, because this at least made some sense. It wasn't romantic, but it wasn't about me either. This life, this journey, what was it all about? The meaning of life, an age old question, what is the purpose of it? Unlike Hamlet, I wasn't concerned so much with asking the question then finding the answers. Time and time again I find myself coming back to the simple understanding that there must be a greater purpose. There is a purpose for our existence, and even though Nihilists, chaos consultants, scientists, cynics, and so often the self will deny there being any purpose, I know now that there is indeed a reason for the rhyme. For many people, all they can see is the evil and suffering. The incoherence and insanity which surrounds them yields to the conclusion that there couldn't be any possible purpose for the daily horrors they witness. Yet there is no escaping reason, no denying purpose, because as we all know if there was no purpose... we would not be here.

So what is this greater purpose to be? Or not to be? What is the reason we exist? Hector of Troy once said, "I have lived my life by a simple code. Honor the Gods, be true to your wife, and defend your country." Perhaps each person has a variation of this code, but this code sounds like reason enough for being. It reflects the greatest reason of all, which is LOVE. We are here to love each other, to love our brothers, our sisters, our aunts and our uncles, our neighbors and everyone under the sun. Our purpose is to be parents, and to love and honor our parents before us, and theirs before them. We are to glorify God, and walk as Christ did.

All the villainous hate in the world and the corruption of such evil tries to deconstruct the simple notion of love. To dilute the potency of love by preoccupying the mind with other emotions, this is the goal of hate’s followers. This is so apparent that it is a wonder to me why so many miss this.

So what happens when we learn the meaning of life? The purpose of being? Well, we start teaching instead of just preaching. We live our lives, and these actions become the template and model for all those to follow. Our actions become the testament, our statement, our acknowledgement to the truth of love. We become prophets to further the cause of goodness and sponsor this type of growth which betters humanity.

Knowing that God's loves spreads like a wildfire is so much more comforting in today's world of skepticism and stubborn impatience with what we can't understand. It is always easier to cave into fear, and try to separate the world and those in it, forcing them apart from ourselves. Yet the folly of prejudice lies in the simple fact that we deny ourselves the truth to see beyond our fears. We let negative emotions govern us, and this is why love is the perfect antithesis to all the bad in the world. But the choice to love is ours to make, and ours alone. Of course this decision is the hardest to make, because once we acknowledge our purpose then we are burdened by the responsibility to never fail ourselves again. Perhaps burdened isn't the fairest of terms, but we are only human, and failure is around every bend. At times self doubt is inevitable. This is why we have ‘blues music’ is it not? The question remain the same, what if I had not failed? What if I had never given up? What if I had remained strong and true to myself? It is the persistant and the brave who strive to win, who raise the bar, get back onto their horse, accept the challenge, that always have hope for a brighter tomorrow. This too shall be the crusade of love. Love will conquer and fill all the emptiness of this world one day, and we will be perplexed as to why it took us so long to find it.

On a more personal note, I too was lonely for a time. Much like my friend I desired a woman to share my love with and be loved by. I searched my entire being and I realized that in order to survive I needed to have my better half, but first I had to come to the larger realization that to wallow in what I didn't have seemed self serving.

One day I woke up and God provided me companionship in the flesh and spirit of a woman. Feeling like Adam must have when he first beheld Eve, I was overwhelmed with the awesome beauty of her, and felt indebted thanks to my savior knowing God provided my single greatest prayer.

Now that I have my soul mate, and we are together, I find that the love builds exponentially. After two years we are still madly in love. Of course we fight all the time, but how shut of from ourselves and each other would we have to be in order not to fight? Getting past the fear of being hurt was the largest hurdle. Opening myself up emotionally to another individual took a lot longer than I expected. All the times I had been hurt had left a bad aftertaste in the back of my mouth. I was constantly on guard in the first months of our relationship so that I could dodge any situation that requested me to lay down all my playing cards. Hey, I mean, it's hard being vulnerable with someone. Luckily my resistance of expressing myself was met by patience equal to none. My true love was working with me to further our intimate connection. So the moral of the story is that love takes work, and like anything else, you have to work at it for it to grow. So many people take the fictionalized or Hollywood version of love and think its instantaneous and self explanatory. That is strikes like lightening and you have your happy ever after. The truth is, it may strike, it may seep in like roots deep into the earthy soil, but the entire journey is one large learning experience, and it is never really over.

Maybe I'm not the greatest example, but I'm sure my story has a place and a time for its purpose. My mind keeps coming back to that Peter Gabriel version of the song “The Book of Love.” The book of love is full of things, including things we are all too young to know. I hope in the search for love you all look for a friend like the type mentioned in the book of Proverbs. As it states a true friend has unquenchable love that is not diminished by adversity.

A friend loveth at all times, and a brother is born for adversity.
Prov. 17:17

And always know that the greater love awaits us all.

I love them that love me; and those that seek me early shall find me.
Prov. 8:17

Wednesday, May 18, 2005

Aishiteru Sayaka Desu

Here is My lovely fiance and I at last years Hanami (flower) festival at Kumamoto Castle, Japan. All the cherry blossoms are in bloom and it smells nice outside. It was a chilly day, but very fun. We picknicked outside the castle with friends and enjoyed a ton of Japanese foods. It was wonderful.

Tuesday, May 10, 2005

Death & Taxes

Anxiously awaiting the return of Darth Vader? Me too.

Saccharin Gaze

This poem was an entry into a poetry contest. I went with a more appocalyptic feel rather than using my traditional bubbly and cheerful pop-language. I felt like a change of tone and style. For those keen on poetry may detect an influence from T.S. Eliot and Edgar Alan Poe.

I wrote this one as a series of quatrains. However, due to the way Blog formats it, some lines may jump.

Tristan Vick

Saccharin Gaze

Amongst the bleak backdrop of a black and crimson sky
When the last shriveled, insipid apple dangles against empty
Ash, and the only juices left inside are of corruption and tyranny
And shattering under a lecherous hate; crumbles the last Emerald city

A place where crows and scavengers avoid the rotting sickness with contempt
Their bony clawed feet too timorous to touch the stained earth
They peer down from perches of steel chain link and cement
Starving beady blotches of black, glossy as oil, waiting for the hour of rebirth

Macabre zombies, a remembrance of humanity lurk around
Each landscape as desolate as the last with but one exception
A tower of muddy copper once of gold, standing erect and sound
The last symbol of an empire; a slowly winding down machination

So tolls the clock tower at this high hour
Hands stroke the smoldering cracks of a face so weathered
Yet no ghostly soul dare look up, or gaze upon such a tower
Its cruel dominance, a mechanical deity, abhorred

Sulfur and suffering replace mankind’s dream
And the surrogate lord of time overseas with steady decay
The desolate trees raped of their silvery stream
As the bell sounds the last vestige of beauty; splintered, and lost in disarray

Once here laid the foundation of a great Paradise
Now forlorn with only the rubble of a great nation trodden
A Wasteland set down in the wake of caprice
Felicity the faithless has run away, and is undone.

Left in the charcoal grey culm, shimmering against monochrome sunsets
Only a memory of that pristine palace and its populace now a ravished whore
Pewter statues of forgotten deities cry tears of blood over that once great subset;
The dry winds pause for a distant voice, and the Raven squawks, “Nevermore.”


This poem was a free-write in which the practice is to let the stream of consciousness flow and write whatever pops into your head. If you find yourself making sense it is best to suddenly change the subject. Especially in an excersize such as this. Needless to say, this it the most fun of all the writing excersizes I do. It keeps one's imagination fresh and on the ball. It's also the best way to get over "writer's block." Ocassionally breaking from working on one thing and doing this allows you to turn back on your imaginative drive!


Have you ever licked a marshmallow?
What noise does that make? Shkla-c-ck?
Or dropped a coin, a noise like chi-chang
Perhaps an Elephant fart goes tuba-booba,
But a duck is rather quaint, with its
Little doot-deet.

Poetry Hour

As the previous two poems were written within a set form, this poem was not. I wrote this poem in free verse so that I could open up the language and play with the rhythem. You can read it outloud to a rock beat or any pop-musical thumping bass track. It was inspidered by... well, why not just read the poem?

Latin Pop Star Diva Goddess

Bill Cosby is all for J-E-double L-
Oh! Baby ~I'm all for a little J-Lo
Can't find a fined back door than
What Jenny's got. You make all
The Young boys take notice with
Your strategically placed cleavage,
And bits of hot sensual Latin skin;
Damn Girl! You've got it going on.

Making us soar hearted losers resort to
Window-shopping on the back of your
Latest CD cover. Your vicious melodies,
"Same old Jenny from the deet-doo dit"
Like a Siren calling out to her prey, advertising
With what you hang in display, the chart
topping heart stopping music video, slap me
Hot damn! Jen you know you drip with sex appeal!
I should be arrested just for looking.
Who knew window shopping could be so arousing?

Forget JELL-O --I want a taste of you.
Those other chicks just don't get it, "why is she so hot?"
"Not that special," they bark while their guys oogle over you.
Those brown-a-licious luscious eyes which lure~

Seduce! Your hour glass abs which ripple with
Powerful woman's physique, praying mantis
Lady man Killer! Want to marry me? Forget about Ben,
It was just a fling with a touch of Bling Bling.
I wouldn't mind being used an abused by you, baby!

Wallowing in wet fantasies of celebrity romance
Envious of Richard Gere, dear oh dear!
I crave doing the rumba with Jen; but I'll settle for
Her latest DVD and a bowl of vanilla chocolate swirl pudding.


Personal note:
I don't dislike Jennifer Lopez. On the contrary, I believe she is one of the most tallented women today. I do think her acting is better than her singing, but she hasn't tested her full potential as an actress. The negative vibe in this poem is based more on the fact that "displaying skin" is an American fetish which the movie world, music videos, and various media, etc. idolize... this skin fetish gets under my skin (no pun intended). It's a pet peeve of mine, if you will. Not so much because of the sexual conotations, but because of the manipulation people use for "$" gain, and also to force opinion. I have my own mind, thank you very much. I have no ill will toward Jennifer who I admire and is my favorite celebrity. She is also a very beautiful and tallented lady, so I hope I pay homage to her, but at the same time retain my point.

Surreal Sonnet

This is a Shakespearean (or English) Sonnet written within the style of surrealism, just a playful expirement mind you. It's entitled:


Macalahoughn McFlunk took a dipper
In the trunk of his backseat meatloaf
Whilst his lady in darling yellow ribbons made a whisper
About Tony the Tigers uncle named Wolf!

All this time, little Nicky was singing
Next to the fountain of youth quite sterile
Although no sprocket could hear the ringing
Each and all knew the tantamount of such peril!

Cindy Lou-who called for the pepper-spray
While Bo-peep and her sheep fled in terror
There wasn’t a single soul that knew what to pray
When such macaroni noodles were eaten in unholy error!

And he meant it quite sincerely when he shouted for
Cry havoc and let loose the dogs of war!

Tristan Vick


A villanelle is a type of Italian poetic form. I fancy myself a professional writer, and whereas some may atribute this comment to egotism, I atribute it to the fact that I get paid for many of my writings. With the exception of this Blog.

Here I would like to share a poem I recently wrote and the review I recieved.

Tristan Vick


Free Up Dream Whispers

Lustful temptation pushing every needle to the line;
She shot a look back at me with those heavy weight brown eyes
Speaking louder than words to stay my ground, don’t cross this line.

She told me, “In this world there are winners and losers,” and to refine,
“Lovers and those wishing to be loved.” I should have caught onto the lies
Disproportionate to her stature, but I was distracted by her figure enticingly fine.

“Don’t tempt the tempter,” she grinned with a crooked sour smile, one of lime
And sugar. She new how to manipulate a man with her Mona Lisa grin, her eyes
Pulled me in, bodily contact was made; she pressed her pelvis into mine

Latching tight a contract was of souls made, neither desired escape, it was real this time.
Tearing apart only meant we would each lose part of ourselves in the other, goodbyes
Need not exist, “Goodbyes,” she said, “If only for every cliché there was a rhyme.”

She spoke riddles like this. She pulled out an ocean blue tinge and re-did her eye-line;
Erotic beautiful locks of brown flowing hair revealing the mystery of her family ties;
A Latin goddess with caramel skin down to the equator of a low riding denim line

“The best way to make your dreams come true,” she hesitated on the last line
And looked at me with a deep serenity, as that smile she barely had seemed to die
Fading away, dreams battled and worn, a cruel history, I pulled her tightly to mine
Chest, her warm breath passing soft lips whispered, “Is to wake up.” A sorrow felt chime.

The review is as follows:

With the playfulness of Kenneth Koch and an eye for popular culture akin to that of Frank O'Hara, Tristan Vick's poetry takes the reader on a whirlwind tour of a mind that loves peanuts, J. Lo, catapillars, life and language in general. His words sizzle and pop off the page, full of that place of wonder where innocence meets experience.
--- Greg Kheeler

Greg Kheeler is a professor at Montana State University and a well known published poet. His review of my work, past and present was quite flattering. I hope to share more of my professional poetry with you all.

Appleseed is an Anime based off the manga by the same name. The creator is Masamune Shirow, the same artist/creator of Ghost in the Shell. I like both Ghost in the Shell and Appleseed equally albeit for different reasons.

Whereas GITS is more scientifically philosophical, Appleseed as a series is more fun and entertainting in the traditional sense. The 2004 movie (image above) is a combination of two story arcs from the original series. It remains a philosophical theme of "what is the definition of 'humanity' and of being human?" The moral debate in Appleseed focuses on humanity's corruption and prejudice against anything not human. Shirow takes this farther in GITS when he brings in the debate of cybernetics and the consciousness of anything living. GITS asks the question of what is the soul?

These series are both great. Appleseed is more light hearted with more humor, and GITS is more of a realistic and philosophical tone. The Appleseed movie (2004) however utilizes a tone much more in the vein of GITS. However, this doesn't subract from the story, nor the wonderful cast of characters. The 3-D animation is gloriously well executed, stuningly beautiful, and considering they did Appleseed on about 1/3 of the cost (aprox. $10 million) which PIXAR typically funds its films with ($150 million)... I must say I am doubly amazed.

I recomend any of the classic Appleseed anime or comic series, and for me personally, Deunan and Briareos are two of the coolest characters ever created. Major Kusinagi is a close second.

The animated television series Ghost in the Shell: Stand Alone Complex is probably the best Anime I've ever seen. I place it above Cowboy Bebop and Escaflowne as far as quality of story telling and animation goes. I picked up GITS: Stand Alone Complex when I was in Japan, and was truely awe struck. Oddly enough the latter three seires music is composed by Yoko Kano. She's wonderful! I also loved her score to Shimotsuma Monogatari.

Kissing Fat Girls

I kissed a fat girl once. That's not saying much considering that I'm bean pole thin. Makes me wonder, how thin exactly is a bean pole? She was huge. Tripple chins, flabby under arms, perhaps it was genetic... I didn't make it a point to ask. I thought it may be rude. She was my first real make out session. Sadly it wasn't until my senior year in highschool. As embarassing as it was, I was a late bloomer. My second make out session was also with a fat girl, well, not fat but chubby. The good kind of chubby, real woman. She was a beauty.

Some people have a fanatic "virgin" complex and won't kiss anybody unless they are in love with them. I call this vanity of self with the fear of self defilement. They think they will dirty themselves in some way by making intimate contact with another human being. Either that or they are bashful; not that there is anything wrong with bashfulness. It's more charming than vanity. Kissing isn't sex (I thought I'd point out the obvious). More often than not there is some who believe any physical contact require intimacy. I beg to differ. These people have obviously never been punched in the face. I'm sure this would change their opinions quite readily. Some think a kiss contains all the knowledge... and the chemistry. It's the connection which bonds two souls. Or, it could just be a kiss.

There's nothing wrong with kissing fat girls. It's odd how many bean pole thin guys, who are also tall, get short chubby wives for their mates. It's also odd that many of these blonde barbie fem-fatales end up searching for true love constantly. Maybe it's because they are bad kissers? Perhaps thin babe-a-licious girls need to take notes. Fat girls can kiss. There's not doubt about it. They get all the guys.

Where are all the hunks? Are they either gay or testostrone/corporate driven capatalistic fiends seaking glory and riches? Where did all the good men go? That question is common enough. Maybe they're all out kissing fat girls. There's nothing wrong with kissing fat girls.


I kissed a skinny girl in a hot tub once, but I would need a different subject title to post this story under, wouldn't I?

Anyway, I've given all that up. Girls... that is. I always seem to see the potential for failure.

Okay, that's a lie. I gave it up because...

I found the most wonderful girl and we adore smooching. She's a hotty, and not at all overweight. She's the spitting image of a Goddess. She's my Japanese beauty. Has an Asian exotic beauty which will leave anybody awe stuck and oogling. When I'm with her I see other peoples jaws drop to the floor. She's that amazing looking!

I guess puting on a few pounds myself changed for the better! Fat guys with hot babes. Wait, that sounds like a CBS sitcom. But I'm not fat, nor am I a ninja warrior. Still scrawny and without stealth skills. I hope all of this information has been more than beneficial to my numerous readers. All four of them.

Anyway, I hope I answered her question to the best of my ability.
3 before and none after or ever again shall be kissed by your's truly,

The Luckiest Guy in the World.