Serenity Prayer: Fully Re-Designed 2012 Model

God grant me the serenity ?to hide from the things I cannot change, ?the courage to avoid the things I can, and the wisdom to know I am helpless against the machine.

To live one day at a time like everything is just swell; ?To send me a Rolex so I can really enjoy one moment at a time; ? To learn to avoid and run from hardships as the pathway to peace;  ?And not taking, as He did, this sinful world? as it is, but imagining it as I would have it; ?Trusting that He will make all things right instead of me trying to do it. ??That I may be unbelievably and screamingly happy in this life ?and even more super duper happy with Him in the next.


Like you , LK…I too am done!  Toasted. Fatigued, infuriated, and feeling helpless.  A voice in a void that, unless I say something completely idiotic, hateful  and ruthless enough to go viral on You Tube, rises like a silent cloud to nothingness.  A voice that on Tuesday had so much more meaning as it screamed GOAL!!!! while my wife and I sat in hockey bliss, munching $9.00 fries and $10.00 beers.  A voice that delivers joy and pure devotion as it whispers “I love you,” to my sleeping wife.  Otherwise, a voice that is basically unnecessary.

We – more-so  you – rant weekly about all the horrors, cruelties, political gaffs and corruption, illegal and un-winnable wars, genocide, and on and on and on.  And yes, it’s a good thing to enlighten, to make people aware.  But even too much awareness bloats the psyche.  Like a therapy session that lasts longer than an hour because the brain shuts down from too much information, enlightenment and awareness become so much white noise, or worse, crying wolf.

And so, at least for now, I am washing myself clean of any and all responsibility of everything and anything that goes on outside my immediate circle of loved ones.  I imagine this will last for two or three days, but right now, it feels really, really good!

Three Pre-Apocalyptic Wishes

Okay, it’s the end of the world according to Nostradamus, the Mayans and the Alex Jones Infowars channel.  Thinking about being ended this year made me realize that initially at least, I have the capacity of being a shallow, pathetic dope.

I asked myself what I would do if this was it. If I knew for sure that say by next Wednesday everything was just gone.  My immediate bonehead ideas were 1.  Buy the Bugatti Veyron Super Sport…the fastest car in the world – and drive it as fast as it can go , which is 253 mph.  2. Buy the L115A Long Range Rifle – the best sniper rifle in the world, and shoot a bunch of Taliban guys just as they were getting ready to rape someone.  3.  Move next door to Angelina Jolie and take her for a ride in my new Bugatti.  And 4.  Drive Angie and me to NYC to find Donald Trump and punch him in the face.

Now of course, all of that is just simple self-entertaining nonsense, and I fully realize that I would do none of those things because none of those things have any true meaning.  But then comes the puzzle – why bother with meaning if this is all over – including my inherent awareness of myself?  And then that irritating God thing comes up and I have to start all over.  Was it the fear or love of God that kept me from just letting go of all restraints and tearing through this life like a mad dog?  Or was there some gene plugged in during mom and pop’s coitus?  The truth – at least my truth when giving this some heavy thought, is that one dies like one lived.  I believe that having gone so many years traveling what I assumed to be the correct path, the right thing to do, the way to be, and so on, has been so deeply deposited into my psyche that even now, knowing that Wednesday next is the end of everything, I would behave in exactly the same manner I did all those hundreds upon hundreds of past regular Wednesdays.

And so, if the Mayans are in fact correct, there will be people stealing, raping, killing, and doing all kinds of bad stuff. But I believe that those people have been struggling with keeping themselves under control all along.  The majority of us will just sit, realizing there is nothing else we can nor need to do.

As for me, my Bugatti -Jolie imaginings washed away for the comical absurdities they were, I would gather my family and try to keep them from the panic and fear that accompanies any unknown.   I would hold them close, and laugh and cry and run through memories and even discuss what is next for us since we all, my family that is, have a belief in an afterlife.  And whether that afterlife is man made fodder created to keep everyone from cracking up at the thought of death, or a mystical, spiritual truth doesn’t matter.  Hope is what has helped me and my loved ones through this life.  To drop it now would be as illogical as shooting up the Taliban.

Still, there is a tiny part of that sniper thing that gives me a smile.  Gonna have to talk that over with God next Wednesday.


Didn’t know the man. Knew his work.

Fair and balanced is what he arrived at a result of an ethical pursuit of the truth. “Fair and balanced” as a shallow lip service slogan is a sad irony and a poor reflection of our American culture. His not being here to ask the questions he’d ask, in the manner and sequence he’d ask them, remaining both civil and tenacious while methodically peeling the layers off the onion, will let many a candidate off many a hook, this year and in the years to come.

Others who knew him will mourn the man. I’m saddened that big decisions, made by and affecting hundreds of millions of people, will have to be made without his inquisitiveness and input.

Rest in peace, Mr. Russert. And this Sunday morning, if you’re so inclined, ask God, if there is one, why.