Posts Tagged ‘love’

Haven’t blogged for a while. Will have to rectify this in the near future.

In any case, here’s something awesome. Astronaut Chris Hadfield has a Tumblr, on which he posts pictures of the earth from space. OVER THE SAME INTERNET THAT WE ALL USE ON EARTH.

It’s a cliché to say it at this point, but at some point not too long ago, it became the future and we didn’t even notice it.

~ Ian

(Gorillaz, “Broken”)

Me a few minutes after MSNBC announced the Ohio poll results, giving my best cheesy grin.

When Obama was first elected in 2008, I was under no illusions that he was going to take office and undo the complete cesspit that eight years of the Bush regime had left the United States.

I mean, I’ll cheerfully describe myself as a pessimist. I’m not just a glass-half-empty type– to me, the glass is half empty, and the water’s contaminated with giardia, and it’s also lukewarm and tastes slightly like feet. I find that pessimism is a reasonable strategy for protecting yourself against disappointment.

So I knew that when Obama took office, he wasn’t going to work some manner of healing magicks over what the economy, or our quagmire in Iraq, or the social injustices plaguing the country, and kiss it all better. I knew that there would be problems. I knew that the Republican party would be against him every step of the way, for reasons that basically boil down to the fact that he’s an intelligent black man with a funny name. I knew this. And I thought that whatever Obama was planning to do, he’d better do it in his first four years, because I wasn’t sure even then that he was going to survive to the next election before being murdered by some trigger-happy Birther, much less re-elected.

But it happened.

And it happened against all the odds. It happened despite the multinational corporations pouring their billions into funding the Romney campaign, despite the fact that the Republicans chose as their nominee a candidate that combined all the worst qualities of Greg Stillson from The Dead Zone and Mr. Burns and yet somehow people believed he was likable (or worse, trustworthy), despite the fact that the Republican Party did everything they could to obstruct voting in Ohio barring actual physical violence, despite all the chicanery and flimflam and outright lies, Barack Obama has done it. He’s done what I didn’t think he could do. Even if the dark machinations that constantly seek to destroy my future, and the future of so many millions of others, still exists, and will come back two or four years later like a bloody vengeful spirit out of Hell, it happened. The election’s over, and we can finally move forward. 

Maybe there’s a case to be made for this optimism thing.

I don’t usually talk about politics on Axolotl Ceviche. But this is important.

~ Ian

Me and my friend Finn, minutes after the election. (We don’t look *too* crazy, do we?)

It is no secret that the most undeniably badass people on any ski slope are the blind skiers.

Blind skiers are relatively common: I see one or two of them every day when I go skiing. They’re pretty easy to see: they wear orange vests that say BLIND SKIER in big black letters. In addition, they have a guide behind them, who tells the blind skier information about the slopes below, while holding onto them with ropes, which the guide uses to help the skier down the mountain.

…That was a terrible description, wasn’t it?

Here, I’ll just show you a picture:

I think that the blind skier, to put his/her trust so completely into the hands of someone else, is incredibly brave. I don’t usually say this out loud, certainly not on my lame blog, but I have trust issues. Serious ones.

So I don’t think that I could put my life into someone else’s hands as completely as a blind skier does with his/her guide.

Like I said. Badass.

In any case, I decided to use the blind skier as a central metaphor in a short free-verse love poem. Enjoy.

~ Ian

 

Hold On To Me

 

I am

a blind skier

hurtling unseeing into darkness

not knowing what’s ahead of me

not knowing the dangers ahead

plunging unheeding towards destruction.

 

You are

my sighted guide

always guiding me past the rocks and ice

always keeping hold of my leash

always steering me in the right direction

always guiding me away from the end.

 

And I know

you will always hold on to me.