As soon as you concern yourself with the "good" and "bad" of your fellows, you create an opening in your heart for maliciousness to enter. Testing, competing with, and criticizing others weaken and defeat you.

-Morihei Ueshiba

Color Translator by Knight model # KG-337

I found this machine in a trash pile at work. Some say it is junk. Hah! How foolish the skeptics are! Never did I think I would ever be the proud owner of an antique 'color translator'. Luckily for me, I know a treasure when I see it. Now I must figure out what the [bleep] it does.

Hopefully it will allow me to change colors as I see fit. Turn me down: boom, you are now purple. No, not a sexy Prince purple. More like a hospital nurse gown purple. Blame me for your bad day while I am trying to relax at dinner (which I am treating you to): boom, your turkey sandwich is now green and you look like an unnamed, morose and irritable Seuss character. Bon appetit!

Or maybe, it will allow me to translate peoples moods to color. Friendly and interested will result in a red/yellow/orange tint of the skin and radial glow. Depressed or angry will bring about a background stormcloud mural made with black, navy blue and grey. Manipulative or deceitful intentions will turn whites of eyes dollar-bill green.

Two questions:

1. What color are you today?

2. What the [bleep] does a color translator really do?

Last June, a young man returned to his adopted and climate controlled land after a 'coincidental' working trip brought him home for the spring. Walking alone, people often stopped him on the street and asked him, 'whats wrong?'. He was sad, he thought, about a girl. Turns out that there was much, much, more to his unhappiness. The girl was just an excuse. Compliments were shunned and critisisms expected.

One day soon after the return of the non-Californian native, this young man met Jesus at a park in the Gaslamp District of San Diego. Jesus was washing his armpits with a bar of Ivory soap in a water/bird-shit/chlorine/piss bath. They chattted about the weather and the upcoming Comic Book Convention. 'Maybe we can get pictures of Chewbacca making out with a Powerpuff girl?'. Jesus smoked Camel Lights and offered one. The young man hesitantly declined.

Jesus was the reincarnation of 10,000 people. The young man could see and feel J's caring soul just like Jesus felt the pain in the young mans eyes.

'Would you like to eat a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with me?' asked Jesus.

'Yes'. Then they ate.

'Would you like to heal yourself?'

'Yes'.

'Start now. It will take some time. Just know, nothing is her fault, take responsibility for your own fuck-ups. Anything, good or bad, that happened to you in your life is the result of your actions. No one else is to blame.'

Jesus was telling the truth.

The young man baptized himself with forgiveness in the water/bird-shit/chlorine/piss bath. He was disgusted. Disgusted with himself and his actions and for the first time in some time, he forgave himself and he forgave her.

'So thats what that feels like!'

Everyone is a Teacher

In you,I see myself.

Mr. Dumpster-Diver, you have valuable lessons for me. I look down upon you because I see myself in you, we all do. We all could be searching for a half eaten sandwich or 3 cent bottle. You anger me because I anger me.

Dear Mrs. Cut-Me-Off-and-Almost-Hit-Me,
Apologies. I told you to eat a shit burger because I should eat a shit burger. Let me explain. When you almost hit me, my brain recognized that you made a boneheaded move that I have made myself. I was not conscious of what was going on in my head at that time. Mindless driving is no stranger to me and it is careless. Being careless equals stupid or inferior. I like to be smart and superior, that's my thing and its bulls&$t; those facade's cover something darker. So Mrs. Cut, I am sorry to you and to myself. You and I are not so different.

Thank you, Mr. Violence-To-Strangers. I did not understand why you called me an asshole for slamming my door. Did not understand why you offered to fight me. I said, 'I don't slam the door'. Not backing down, anger rose up my throat like the aliquot of a fourth espresso sometimes does. I thought, 'This guy is crazy', and I wanted to save you like I do with everyone else I can not 'save'. You rampaged. I smiled with an air of superiority.

You were right Mr. Violence-To-Strangers, I was slamming the door and was being an inconsiderate asshole. Unfortunately, ego was running the show. I was right and you were wrong. Just like I do with my folks. My support was there, my neighbors said you had no right to threaten me and that you were crazy. Thank you for your honesty.

Criticisms anyone? Please? Perhaps a little brutal honesty? A little pain?

Spidey Sense

While clumsily carrying a cardboard box full with clothes, books, a magnifying glass, pens and pencils, magazines, zines, and folders, I walked into the web of the spider that bit Spiderman. Today my arm is swollen and my body tingled when I picked up the phone. Too bad I can not walk up buildings. Maybe tomorrow?

Just Another Love Song

He finds himself at the drive in watching the movie of her, contorted to be in the same seat. For the first time, he knows she loves him. It was a warm shiver and a mysterious force that punched him like a green flash at sunset. Soak in those green wavelengths, young man, for soon they will be gone.

After the light leaves, suddenly he is observing people at a warehouse on the south side of the city at 2am. How did he get there? Perhaps it was the pursuit of that warm shiver that pulled him with ghostly strings and phantom pulleys. She, and her light, are absent. He misses her. Meanwhile, she is 12 hours of flights away and missing him back:

Gas and plane ticket prices are down. Bottled water prices and Republican approval ratings are up.