Author: john wick

http://www.msnbc.com/news/911574.asp??PS=8313

www.ign.com has a pirate tape of the HALO 2 in-game demo.

OH.
MY.
GOD.

At least a year of my life belongs to Bungie.

“Merlin,” Arthur asked. “What is the greatest of knightly virtues?”

“Truth,” the old wizard said. “It must be truth. Whenever a man lies, he kills some part of the world.”

(adapted slightly from Excalibur.)

If I were a stone, I would be: ruby
If I were a tree, I would be: rowan
If I were a bird, I would be: a crow
If I were a machine, I would be: a ’57 Chevy
If I were a tool, I would be: a pen
If I were a flower/plant, I would be: a blue rose*
If I were a kind of weather, I would be: The moments before the a thunderstorm, when the air is thick with the smell.
If I were a mythical creature, I would be: a selkie
If I were a musical instrument, I would be: a trap set
If I were an animal, I would be: a scorpion
If I were a color, I would be: red
If I were an emotion, I would be: (currently) pining.
If I were a vegetable, I would be: artichoke**
If I were a sound, I would be: the sound of breath, caught in the throat, just before a kiss
If I were an element, I would be: orichalcum
If I were a car, I would be: see above
If I were a song, I would be: Swordfishtrombone***
If I were to trade places with another person, it would be: my evil twin
If I were a movie, I would be directed by: David Fincher
If I were a book, I would be written by: Me
If I were a food, I would be: spaghetti
If I were a place, I would be: Somewhere far from here
If I were a material, I would be: 50% cotton, 50% silk
If I were a taste, I would be: Vanilla Coke
If I were a scent, I would be: roses
If I were a religion, I would be: Wicka (Wickans!)
If I were a word, I would be: Why?
If I were an object, I would be: I’m not?
If I were a body part I would be: eyes, under slightly dropped lids
If I were a facial expression I would be: a smile
If I were a subject in school I would be: philosophy 301: Ethics
If I were a cartoon character I would be: censored
If I were a shape I would be a: triangle
If I were a number I would be: 6
If I were a month I would be: May
If I were a day of the week I would be: Odin’s Day
If I were a time of day I would be: twilight
If I were a planet I would be: Pluto (quick and irregular)
If I were a sea animal I would be: lobster (dumb and yummy)
If I were a direction I would be: Second star to the right, and straight on ’till morning
If I were a piece of furniture I would be: big, big canopy bed
If I were a sin I would be: wrath (the only sin I consider deadly)
If I were a historical figure I would be: I am a historical figure. History hasn’t caught up with me yet.
If I were a liquid I would be: mead****

* from FWWM: “I can’t tell you about that”
** difficult to prepare, but worth the wait
*** http://audio.msk.ru/waits/ra/swordfishtrombones/10.ram
**** in the Old Norse tongue, the word for “mead” and “story” are one in the same, because a good story and a good cup of mead make you feel the same

The figure of Jesus has always been important to me. Not in a religious way, but in a spiritual, symbolic way.

The world is made of pain. Everywhere you look. Like my grandpa said, “If you think you’ve got it bad, open your eyes and look around. You’ll find someone who’s got it much, much worse.”

The Buddha knows this. That’s why he’s smiling.

Maybe the whole point of this, maybe the whole point is to bring just a little joy into the world. Maybe that isn’t even enough. Maybe what we’re really here to do is do our best to heal some of the world’s hurt.

I’ve tried. Spent my life trying to help people, to heal some of their hurt. Sometimes, they’re grateful. Sometimes, they nail you on a cross. Or strap you down in old sparky. It doesn’t matter how I’m repayed for what I do. I don’t do what I do because of how people will look at me, or how they thank me.

I do what I do because the world is made of pain. And I try my best to heal some of it.

When Jennifer and I split, we told our friends they didn’t have to pick sides. It was an amicable split, and we didn’t want our friends acting strange around us. As it turned out, our friends all got weird. I had to re-evaluate everything I knew as true. Apply cold, hard logic and look at peoples’ behaviors and make calculated conclusions. Unemotional conclusions. It wasn’t pretty.

In the wake of all that, I made some new friends and clung to them dearly, being as honest and faithful as I could to prove (to myself and them) that I really was a person who was worth being called “friend.” I thought I had built a strong base to help me stand after the most traumatic experience in my life.

As it turns out, I have to look again at those I’ve invited into my life and re-evaluate. Take a cold, hard look at each one and figure out just who’s my friend and who’s playing me for a mark.

I wanted so badly to put the Scorpion hat away. Now, it’s on for good.

“Hey, John,” the Goddess asked. “How old are you?”

“Twenty five,” I told her.

“No, you’re not,” the other one said. The red-head who has access to my files. The cute one. Then, she let the number fly.

They looked at me. Waiting for a reply.

“You’re old,” the Goddess said, tired of waiting.

“You’re right,” I said. “I’m old.” I pick up my Coke. “I’m so old, in fact, I was the waiter at the Last Supper.”

“Really?” the Goddess asked.

“Yup,” I tell her. “And they didn’t leave a tip. And it wasn’t because they were broke, because one of them had thirty pieces of silver.”

(I’m in such a good mood. Jimmy Buffett, twenty-four seven. A little song about living without regret…)

The Last Mango in Paris

I went down to Captain Tony’s
To get out of the heat
Then I heard a voice call out to me
“Son come have a seat”
I had to search my memory
As I looked into those eyes
Our lives change like the weather
But a legend never dies

Chorus:
He said I ate the last mango in Paris
Took the last plane out of Saigon
Took the first fast boat to China
And Jimmy there’s still so much to be done

I had a third world girl in Buzios
With a pistol in each hand
She always kept me covered
As we moved from land to land

I had a damn good run on Wall Street
With my high fashion model wife
I woke up dry beneath the African sky
Just me and my Swiss Army knife

Chorus:
I ate the last mango in Paris
Took the last plane out of Saigon
Took the first fast boat to China
And Jimmy there’s still so much to be done

We shot the breeze for hours
As the sun fell from the sky
And like the sun he disappeared
Before my very eyes

It was somewhere past dark-thirty
And I went back to the head
I read upon the dingy wall
The words the old man said:

I ate the last mango in Paris
Took the last plane out of Saigon
Took the first fast boat to China
And Jimmy there’s still so much to be done