A few poorly thought out words on beauty

We are told what beauty is. How sad is that? How confining? Beauty touches us without examination. That's its power. An examination would reveal the crassest capitalist motivation, built on a flimsy excuse of symmetry and youth. What an awful way to limit our world. This notion of beauty, skin-deep and photoshopped, is a poorly mapped territory. It is a single sensory input away from complete hollowness. I want to do more than see beauty. Beauty should be a multi-sensory event. It should be found everyday, everywhere. It should be the sacred in our ordinary profane existence. It should be.....

It should......

I don't know what it should be.

Maybe I just wish I was pretty too.

A few thoughts on accepting danger in hockey and the media.

This is an edited version of a piece I published here awhile ago. Check it out, if you like. And read the comments. I'm either a genius or an idiot. Perhaps I'm both.

http://sports.yahoo.com/blogs/nhl-puck-daddy/vent-plea-media-fighting-142754578--nhl.html

Bad Poetry Tuesdays (Old is New Again)

Old is New Again

Crone entered the consciously hip coffee shop.
 

One-sleaved barrista was struck by trailing wisdoms,

palpable and understated.

 

She understood things from before.

 

He was struck by a beauty of spirit,

his urban neo-tribal philosophy aspired to,

but was ill-prepared to receive.
 

The neo-tribes knew little of earth,

or how to prepare a plot of mind,

for the seedings of faith.
 

Face to face with an old love,

of what he seeks,

he could only stutter,
 

For here?