arvada co

blizzard of 2006...

the sword in the garage

this sword, to me, is symbolic of resignation, along with one man's realization that no one should go to hoag hospital after a brief but entertaining recreational sword fight at a housewarming party.

signs and wonders

i have prayed for approximately, say, 8,057 things that haven't happened. it is a mystery beyond my comprehension. i think that there are some explanations though, which either support the notion that the fairy tale has penetrated the depths of me, or on the opposite end of the spectrum, perhaps support some knowledge of a living God.

if it is just a fairy tale, which is certainly in some realm of possibility, then i would certainly only listen to and accept information that aligned with my pre-conceptions. i can also see that there is an equal likelihood that i simply drift away from the spiritual for such extended periods and become so obsessed with the material, physical realm that my prayers are essentially to a CEO.

this is interesting, from the book The Blessed Life:

"My old nature used to try to figure out how I could manipulate circumstances in my favor. Of course, that's the attitude of a taker, not a giver. Selfishness tries to manipulate God or "make deals" with Him where giving is concerned. But a liberal-hearted person gives quickly and generously because he knows it all belongs to God, and he trusts God to take care of him and bless him."

so, to take my best guess...there are things that we want that are not always going to come to pass in an imperfect, mortal world. what about the things we pray for that certainly seem to match up with what a loving God would provide, yet do not come to pass? i'm not going to pretend to have that figured out. but i stopped caring for a long time and don't have much to show for that either, so i chose to care again and see what happens.

get inside

don't be disillusioned, don't be concerned, don't speak with that tone.
just put your head down and shut up, lock your door.
don't make your concerns (which we told you not to have) into someone else's problem.
please sign here, and let our free service keep track of what you like in case you forget.
we will be happy to do this for you, and will never share your information unless we deem it necessary for your safety.

please also keep your game face on.
no one likes to be around upset people or people who want to talk.
you have six bullets a year, so use them with discretion...and don't point them at people, they are for food.
please work harder for the greater good.

protect your identity for as little as $4.99/month.
be more human for only $19.99/month.
be a human prototype/object of envy for a mere $27.99/month.
own a human prototype/be the object of said prototype's envy for a paltry $59.99/month.
own a refurbished human prototype for $39.99/month (which is far less than mortal human butlers cost !)

failure to wear seatbelt punishable by up to $50,000 fine for first offense.
second offenders will be subjected to death by firing squad.

new rules and/or interpretations of law are released at noon daily.
ex post facto laws are now allowed at all levels.

have a great day!

driving with camera

there is nothing quite like taking trucker speed ($2.99 ginseng/crack blend at 7/11) and offering to take the 4am to 8am shift behind the wheel.

moon, or pinhole camera

if you look to the left there are the people, age 12 and up, drinking to celebrate the festival de camarones

moon burns film

moon over san felipe

best stop for gas

 
we hit this stop at sunrise both east and west on the 40.

31 degrees

driving the 40 east just after sunrise

santa rosa news

not sure what it is about near-abandoned towns that warrants nostalgia, but it sure feels valid

soviet cyborg

there haven't been very many good propaganda posters recently in the u.s. with regards to support for the cause. washington should take a page from the soviet cyborg theme. i am certain that these posters created the desired atmosphere. and also served as inspiration for inspector gadget.

ronda spain playground

ronda at the top of the hill

he shuns the...

ivory tower and the fields,
the kitchens and the garage,
he sits in a cube of his own design,
chewing on a mouthful of marbles.

"mom, how old were you when you realized you weren't immortal?"

do not judge lest you be judged,
advice ignored,
poverty knocks on mr. robin's door,
but its safe for now because he is on the move.

best window

 

this is the best window.

the most beautiful trashcan on earth

 

shining in its green splendor. glorious trashbag, take a walk with us...please?

views from top of eiffel tower

Gustave Eiffel and his head engineers Maurice Koechlin & Emile Nouguier show us their "I build the Eiffel Tower and all I got was turned into wax and locked in a glass box at the top" faces. Thanks champs!

this man gives free chilling lessons

this man outside a cathedral in malaga was chilling so hard that i had to risk offending him by taking his photo. i did pretend that i was looking at the building but knew that i would crop him later, if only for his accomplishing the appearance of the highest waistline in modern recorded history.

new arty crooks profile

http://www.myspace.com/artycrookspapers

malaga spain

sleeping streets of malaga

view from the hotel malaga centro (if leaning out at a 45 degree angle)

calico ghost town

retired family car

calico ghost drill

the real miracle of the silver mine was that the men who sacrificed their lives returned to work there even after they passed...they had to make some special equipment so that these men could pretend that they were still working on the mine, but no one actually thinks that the ghosts worked in the mines.

calico ghost house

this is built out of a special clay to help keep the ghosts from drifting up through the ceiling or out through the walls while sleeping. this involved extensive lab work, which took even longer because the ghosts were so young and new to their ability to fly through walls and kept getting unruly and flying through walls, and its not as though the scientists could just run through the wall to catch them.

calico ghost town

ummm...if it was rebuilt in the 50s to look like the original town does it still count as a ghost town?

denver international airport. empty because we were the last flight to leave during the 2nd or 5th round of blizzards. i cussed a lot while we waited 4 hours on the runway.

my mom has a bike

this is a bike hanging in a window with a house in the reflection of said window. sorry about your neck if applicable.

talents

i believe that we are all gifted. but i don't think anyone is as gifted as i am when it comes to simultaneously flying a plane inside and taking a photo of myself in the plane from down by the tram.

rapidaging

breaking the dam

thank you (you know who you are) for taking a sledgehammer to my brain today, and knocking me loose. it is nice to just be awake and sober. self-referencing text can be ok as long as it is not just a forum to apologize for possible weaknesses or shortcomings...it is ok for the author to acknowledge that he is aware that he is writing and that someone is reading what he is writing. some environmental ideas for people who don't want to be full-fledged dirty hippies...1)don't idle your car, and 2) don't get a plastic bag big enough for bread, 32 oz. Champagne of Beers and hot dogs (and hot dog buns) IF you only have a pack of gum.

in doing this, 1) can be thought of as entry-level, still normal environmentally conscious guy, and then 2) can be thought of as intermediate-level, still normal environmentally conscious guy because it involves a bit more proactivity to tell the clerk that a bag will not be needed.

if i had to guess, i would say i have saved 8 minutes of unnecessary idle time in my car, and about 63 plastic bags (probably only about 14 paper bags).

but there is something really thrilling about painting your house and then just dumping the extra paint down the storm drain!!! leaded gasoline is for champs not chumps! and yes i wrote and write most everything in the masculine form because him/her takes longer. and meat isn't murder, because animals aren't technically alive (source - encyclopedia brittanica salesman).

the preceding has been a flawless example of multilateralism. compromise and prejudice. democracy. for the people. yes!

mauve

http://www.mauveonline.com/

running lapse around brainse

reverting to some old ways, some comfortable ways that worked for me...the drift again. but its not all bad, its just that i am mortal this time, so there is more to pray for, and more to try to forget. but "the sun's somewhere above that dust" and i sense something always in the works...perhaps this waiting in expectation is all that we really need in order to occupy ourselves long enough to feel like we are doing something during the day which merits relaxation at night.

waking up asking God to let me live through my imagined or real illness, then keys, frozen pizza, microwaved pizza, tea, green tea extract, keys, people, talking, conjugated lineolic acid, and there...

something has to be done, and only i can slice through the rigid track that my wheels have grooved...just remember not to be complacent.

pay credit card, HOA, auto-deduct life insurance, hand a ten to mary sullivan...ok good.

i have done a work that is good and pleasing. what? talk to her? she has pissed herself. she is 83 and drinking at the bus stop. she offers me some. i don't try to convert her. i just try to care about her for long enough to feel good enough about myself to go back to doing what i want. this timeframe, i establish it at 23 minutes. lucky for her, she shares a name, first and last, with my grandmother, or i most likely, honestly, would do a better job ignoring her.

this is what it looks like when you don't dress it up, when the familiar patterns of the brain are not concealed...it is then that i can confess and be healed.

arty crooks website

new website at http://www.artycrooks.com

the new fog

it was the first time in my life (this morning) that i was able to so clearly see just how foggy everything has become...this constant buzzing...the waiting...the drift. only through a precise recipe of low-fat, high-protein, bottom-shelf liquids, and roll-your-owns could a man be yoyoed from the heights of contentment and back through the crust of the earth into a hell of his own making, even if it was only for fifteen minutes. something must give way in the next twenty-four hours..."why the repression tom?" "don't be bitter, be better julie" "girls don't like to see boys cry gabriel" "i own this company what the hell have you ever done?" i have mentioned before that one must only be semi-honest in order to sufficiently diagnose at least one corner of the human race...we are all indicted by almost any statement of "fact" about how people are, because we (which includes i) have a disgusting capacity to do things, whether real or imagined, that would absolutely destroy our parents. let alone ourselves. which is why, despite our great and grand collective intellect, i find myself, once again, at the foot of the cross, admitting to Christ that i simply cannot possibly create an extravagant enough device full of lust, money and chemically-induced joy without those blasted earthly consequences. "what's the word of the day jack?" "its broken" "the word of the day machine is broken?" "no...the word of the day IS 'broken'"

"what does broken mean?" "well, since not all of us are bilingual (english and evangelispeak), broken is actually one of those profound and seemingly backward aspects of Christianity"...it is when the technical chart of your life is due for a positive stochastic crossover (thats for you joroshinn). it is where a man or woman, despite what the inner circle says, comes to a deep, hollow place where the need for a loving God comes to be listened to rather than ignored.

"opiate of the masses" they cry..."pathetic...figment of your imagination" they announce, with arms folded, snickers in their teeth...cigarette in hand...

"you mean like your 'need' for that cigarette?" i slip into pride, and my vision of Christ is lost. i forget that i smoked somewhere around 32 cigarettes at once, was attacked by a goat and pissed all over myself, bleeding to death in an alley with needles in my skull, surrounded by imaginary creatures...i never even thought it was that bad. wait...it was more like the security feed in the parking garage in fight club, throwing myself into 360 degree convulsions...and all of these analogous relationships to any activity in which any of us unwittingly sabotage our own potential contentment.

but the beauty of it is this (or so the so-called "story" goes, if the loyal army of atheists is right) - either way, the illusions we choose are real in their consequences, and if we happen to pick one that objectively is more than an illusion, then good for us all the more, as we can only simply hope that a good story could possibly be true)...nothing about asking for a clean slate with God requires our perfection moving forward, and we could not possibly be made whole without a measure of grace that seems so completely irrational, that we would call God wrong in our infinite human wisdom. i am too aware of the hourglass to presume any such thing...at least in my head if not in my actions.