How to scratch a BMW and get away with it.

I'm undoubtedly sick. It has been a long time since I've had a real cold, and I usually feel indestructible. (Actually, I still do, I still have a marathon in me. If I couldn't stand up anymore than I'd be more than "undoubtedly sick" and be entirely so.) Besides this feeling that I've fallen out a moving train, I also feel a little interested. It is awkwardly stimulating that my brain seems to have grown too big for my skull, pushing up against my temples and forehead. Any excess fluid then comes out through my nose, or eventually squeezes from the tear ducts in my eyes. It is always a bad time to get ill when you've got a final paper due that needs a lot of attention and keeps you sleepless into the morning. But it is behind me now. If I get a bad grade I will be disappointed.

So I will take this opportunity to thank God for keeping me healthy and on my feet. I wonder if I overwork my guardian angel. A few weeks ago I ran my bike into the side of a BMW. Rolling downhill like a wreckage without a cause on my historical two-wheeler, a young and fashionable male thought he'd turn right without using his eyes. But I had time to step on my peddle brakes and aim for the rear of his car. A hop over my handle bars, a slight jog, and I'm standing in the street with an attitude. He was embarrassed so I let him go, but my bike has never been the same. Nevertheless, no injuries or major sicknesses is always something to be thankful for.

There are a lot of people in this world who are in bad shape, and in their gratitude they challenge the rest of us. Last week Gypsy Girl and I were walking downtown to catch a bus. Near Granville we passed by a man without arms or legs. (I swear he's come from Toronto, or else is an angel sent to disarm the apathetic stares of city-dwellers.) With very short limbs he was playing on a small electric keyboard to the rhythm of a beat box, nodding his head to the tempo and smiling, on the verge of laughter. People like him collide against our nihilistic culture with a warfare of joy. There is so much to be Joyful for.

They're alive.

So Benny Z has started a Winking Circle spot, and this was my response. Birthed from the memories of crazy action that is still in my blood:

Hokey flip. Its so good to see some news up on the adventures of the Winking Circle. You have no idea. I'm tired, thinking I've got to write a paper, thinking what the heck. I just want to net a squatch but they already get enough trouble around here. (The B.C. sasquatches are never left alone.) This is what the Winking Circle does for me: It reminds me that we're all rock stars in disguise. Not the lamo ones with scewed up lives, but dudes who know where it's at and going to go all the way. "Balls out, do or die." I want to climb some stuff just for the sake of tearing down the walls that are around us all. I want to respond to this inverted society with a long laugh. I want live outside of the normal bounderies because they should have never become normal. Its 10pm, and instead of thinking about the sogginess of what we all have to deal with at times, I'm going to go skateboarding. Breath the fresh air, listen to the melody of a skateboard singing with a large hill, under the spot lights lining the street.

My legs are really sore. I detest writing sporatic entries without a purpose. So now I'm breaking out of my little box and this blog is about to self detsruct, fragmented away, no longer in memory. Computer words leave no ashes. Why is there empty space on the left side of this page? To my friends who were linked to this page: please leave a note so that I may find you again.

For Ontario's finest road warrior. I want to shred it up with you. I hope to ride home on something like this.

I have received a number of comments about fasting from clothes. It was really only a passing suggestion, but it seems to have caught the attention of a few people. Because of an email from my brother Dan it seems it is a better idea than I first realized, so for anyone who feels they own too many, take this as a challenge and join us: get rid of some. Put them away during Lent, or give them away forever.

I am now the proud owner of one of Seraphim's miniatures. The Theotokos will go with me everywhere, pinned to my jacket. It's timing is perfect, marking the beginning of Great Lent; there to warm my heart.