The Seven Deadly Sins

Hell swept over the countryside.

God had finally come, to him the world had died.

No more would we roam this place,

Satan's fury screams as the world is covered with his hate.

Torturous acts are committed as the demons drag them all to Hell.

Resistance is futile, nothing goes well.

Fire begins to sweep over every building so fast

Life on this earth will not last.

God turns his head ashamed at the lack

Of human compassion as he lets the world turn black.

His creation was for nothing

It had at one time been for something.

As the last of us are rounded up

Before we are thrown in, they hold us at the cusp.

We are given one last chance to look at the world we lost.

We're about to find out now what will be the cost.

God's eyes are filled with fire

Our situation becomes more and more dire.

The one who said he would always love us decides to destroy his creation

And to him it's because we gave into the last great temptation.

The seven deadly sins

They've been committed by us all again and again.

God seeks vengeance for our betrayal

Those who resist try to no avail.

Greed and misfortune destroyed this world

Now there's nothing left but the soft voice of a dying girl.

As all the lights finally fade

There's nothing left, there's nothing standing in his way.  

Questions. Questions that need answering.

1. French landscaping, iconography and Mediterranean architecture.

2. Father Jacopo Bellini, brother Gentile Bellini and brother in law Andrea Mantegna were painters and he was once married, but his wife Ginievra Bocheta and son died young.

3. It tells us that he's still deeply disturbed about what happened to him as a child. The mother molesting him. The female figure in the painting is completely consumed by her baby. His artistic personality was formed by his double motherhood. First being raised by his mother and then by his step mother.

4. Leonardo's Madonna's never show the mothers looking away from the baby, intent on something else, but not the baby. Bellini's paintings have the mothers focusing all their attention on their children.

5. 
The way Bellini uses colors is that he splits the canvas into different scenes.  They are always divided by a central curtain which shows the painting from two different perspectives.  A normal perspective and a deeper perspective.

6. It shows the connection of birth and death, and how the mother goes from joyous to completely heartbroken and how the circle of Christ is complete with this final act.

7.

The Madonnas from 1450-1460 are cold and seem very apathetic to their respective children.  The ones from 55-60 seem to have the Mother holding on to the child with a death grip as the child struggles to get away.  Bellini focused on working on different paintings other than the Madonna and her child during this period of 1475-1480.  From 1840-1890 the Madonnas take a different role.  They seem almost fearful and trying to flee from their children.  From 1500- 1509 the Mother's face once again becomes apathetic while, while the infant's body seems more separable from his Mother.

8. The death of his family (mother and son) attributed largely to the change in Ballini's work.  

The Boy, The Man, The Journey- Part III: The One You Can't Refuse

She calls you on the phone.  

You can't really believe it's her.

You think this must be some mistake,

Remember how she made you break?

You know what she means,

But this can't really be what it seems.

You still think this must be a dream.

So then you arrive, there's no one to be found.

You're wondering if it's just like the last time, if she's just screwing you around.

But then you hear something, and you rush out of your hole,

And she calls out to you and says, "Come here baby, come here and do as you're told."

You don't know what to do.

Your heart is beating so fast.

You suddenly remember your terrible past.

You feel so broken,

You feel so shaken.

And when she takes off your clothes, it can't even get you to stop thinking.

But then you see as you lay together, her lies and deceit.

You kick her away and you step on her feet.

She screams and she howls to the moon like a fool.

But something in you changes and you run back to her like a tool.

And now she feels better as she sucks out your blood.

But it feels so warm, and it feels so good.  

She wants you to hold her tight, and you know that you could.

And without hesitation you do what you think you should.

But in reality you're just her whore,

She really doesn't care about you.

She doesn't care about one fucking thing that you do.

But you think that she cares,

And you think that she'll always be there.

But just like before she leaves you lying cold and bare.

And you begin to cry like a sad little clown,

Lying alone like a sick animal on the ground.

And if you ever see her again, it'll be just like before.

And to her, you'll always be her pathetic little whore.

I don't think I can do any worse.

Well, Senator Obama, or should I say President Obama, before you are sworn in... 

... here are a few of the things that I hope that you can correct now that you're president of the United States of America.  

                    

There was a time when a few of the American people had to go find a new job-

Then there was that war that really didn't need to happen that I felt like starting-

Then a bunch of people kind of got a little upset

Then there was that whole economic thing-

So, what do you think?

I don't think I can do any worse.

  

The Boy, The Man, The Journey- Part II: Stories of the Man

My shirt clings to my body from the rain,

Yet I do not feel any pain.

A blind man who looks deranged 

Seems to stare at me as if I'm insane

But he can't really be blamed 

For he knows not what he is doing.

You sit all alone in a chair, 

You don't feel like you're going anywhere.

You turn around, you think someone's there.

But in the end you've got nothing to fear,

Except that no one really cares about you.

She's sitting all alone

Like a queen on a lonesome throne.

She feels so prone to be on her own,

Yet she can't seem to notice because she's in the back of a mental home

Where life is so much simpler.

He sits in his office all day

As his secretary begins to sway

Back and forth in such a way 

That would make any man not stray.

And as they lie together in bed,

His wife finds out and blows off her head,

But before she does she makes sure that the other two are dead,

And now there's no more love to spread between them.

The lawyer walks up to the bench

Thinking his client will be out in a pinch.

He thinks it's simple, it's a synch,

But it surprises him when he realizes that he's the one that's being lynched,

He stares up at the sky and sees a finch

And knows that nothing is really what it seems.

The woman is singing in a band,

Thinking about her lover and her land.

And yet she has no answer planned 

When her sister asks her if she understands

That when she takes him by the hand,

Is he thinking about her, or is he thinking about another man?

The old woman is sitting in the back,

Remembering the dark secrets of her terrible past.

As she lies there and continues to fast,

She is at peace when she knows at last 

That all of it is paying off and her end is coming.  

My friend, he's so care free.

His life seems to move with grace, with glee.

He just can't see or understand what it's like to be me,

And then he travels to the mountains to ski leaving me alone to wonder, "Gee

How did all of this happen?"

My cousin, he feels the need to curse,

He doesn't understand it makes him look worse.

He doesn't know how to talk in free verse,

And now that he's in the back of a hearse,

I guess nothing he ever said really did matter.

My Mother is in the house, 

Alone and tired like a mouse.

She feels the need to scream and shout.

And not to mention that she pouts,

But she needs to understand that she's really the one that brings her problems about,

And her life will always be like this if she doesn't have the will to change.  

My Father is in the west,

Said he's looking for a chest.

But he's probably got his face buried in another woman's breast,

Will he ever stand up to the test?

Or will he just turn and run away and find another nest,

And leave me behind again?

I wish that you could see

All the shit that you do to me.

You don't know how to treat me naturally,

You think I'll get the hang of it eventually.

I know I don't do things perfectly,

But you approach everything so unintelligently.

You think you're making a difference, but consequentially

Over the years I've blocked you out, nothing you say has any meaning.

So now I suppose it's getting late,

And I sometimes wonder about my fate.

Will it come slowly or will it come fast with hate?

Will I land in a crate,

Or I will I just dissipate?

Or is this something that's not up for discussion?

Everything comes at a price.

Roger Waters who was the singer-songwriter for the band, Pink Floyd, went through many ups and downs in his career. But when his life was at its darkest point, he found inspiration in that darkness and knew that if he did not release his anger and his fears to the world in his next creative work, that the thoughts would consume him and he would be pushed to madness.

After the mind boggling success of the band's first big record, "Dark Side of the Moon", Pink Floyd released two more albums over the next four years; "Wish You Were Here" and "Animals". It was during these years that the band itself began to break apart until Waters gained full control over the band and wrote all the lyrics and most of the music because his stardom made him power hungry. This made the rest of the band, including key collaborator and lead guitarist David Gilmour more alienated from Waters and by the time Animals was released, Gilmour and Waters were at each other's throats.

It was during the "Animals" tour when everything went down hill. Pink Floyd, because of their immense stardom were now playing in immense stadiums in front of massive amounts of people. The intimacy of the Floyd's early years had come from the band playing at smaller venues and thus they connected with the audience through their music, and band and fans were one. But now, things had just gotten out of control.

During the North American "Animals" tour, the Floyd were playing at the Olympic stadium in Montreal. The audience wasn't really connecting with the music. They were off shooting fireworks, screaming and yelling and going absolutely crazy in all the wrong ways. It was during one of the songs, that a crazed kid crawled up the stage and was right in Waters' face. Disgusted at his actions, Waters spat right in the face of the kid, and by that point the band had stopped playing. Waters screamed out at the crowd demanding that they listen and that if they wanted to go off and shoot fireworks and act like fools, that they'd better do it, but he wanted the audience's respect. They gave neither Waters nor his band that respect.

Gilmour had walked off the stage and keyboardist Rick Wright and drummer Nick Mason were completely baffled by what was going on. It was then that Waters over a period of four years created, crafted and made what is in my opinion, Pink Floyd's greatest achievement, "The Wall."

Waters had by this point didn't want to record music anymore. He hated the fact that the people that he played for didn't care about the music. It was then that he started to conceive of playing an entire show behind a wall, shielding himself and the band from the audience and is quoted as saying in his early thought process, "That's right you fuckers, you can't hurt us now!" Waters got to work and was now inspired to show the world the deepest and darkest story ever put in musical form.

Waters and his producer for the album, Bob Ezrin, took all of Waters' demos and made The Wall into the ultimate rock opera about a troubled rock star Pink, who loses all grip with reality and has complete mental breakdown. He's been through too many years on the road, too many drugs and alcohol, and his life up until his stardom had been miserable, especially his childhood. Including never knowing his Father, because of his death in Anzio during World War II. Not only that, but his wife leaves Pink in the middle of the album. This causes Pink to lose his mind. He rethinks everything about his past, and decides to block out the rest of the world that he shall build a mental wall that shields him from everyone. Pink descends farther and farther into madness until he realizes that he must get out from behind this wall and face the world, and realize that he has to take responsibility for his own actions, and can't go around blaming the world for his problems.

Waters takes most of these aspects from his own life, especially growing up without a father. That is something that has been with Waters his entire life, and throughout nearly his entire career, he has written songs about his father's death. But with "The Wall" he took it up to a whole other level to the point where you can tell it's just completely breaking his heart. None was more clearer than the song "When The Tigers Broke Free" in the film adaptation, "Pink Floyd- The Wall", which opens with Waters' father and his troops being completely massacred in Anzio and setting the tone for how chaotic the film will be.

After the story had been finalized, Waters and the rest of the band got to work on the album. Waters further demonstrated more of his power hungry ways and wrote 22 of the 26 songs by himself. He co-wrote three tracks with Gilmour, (including arguably their greatest song, "Comfortably Numb") who would also produce the album and Waters wrote the penultimate track, "The Trial" with Ezrin.

The Wall was a massive success and is an incredibly powerful piece of work. But it did not come without its costs. While Waters, Gilmour and Ezrin and drummer Nick Mason worked incredibly hard on the album, keyboardist Rick Wright hardly did anything. He was lost in a haze of drugs, and because he wasn't pulling his weight, Waters kicked him out of the band. This was a major loss for Pink Floyd because Wright, in their earlier days, was huge contributor musically, and made some of the best Pink Floyd songs, "Echoes", "Time" and "Shine On You Crazy Diamond" better because of his great skills as a pianist and songwriter. But he became a shell of his former self because of his addiction.

It was after this that Waters himself, even though he'd finally made his greatest masterpiece, lost all connection with the world, even more so than before Animals. During the tour for "The Wall" Waters would fire Ezrin and would stay even more concealed from his band mates. Gilmour and Waters relationship only worsened after the incredibly strenuous recording sessions, and the band themselves were trapped behind their own walls and Waters would never fully come out from behind his.

Pink Floyd would make one more album, "The Final Cut" which was completely written by Waters, and it was after this that Waters left the band. Pink Floyd would reform over the years with Gilmour, Wright and Mason, but no Waters. Waters worked on a few solo records but has for the most part since 1983, stayed pretty concealed.

Through personal experience, Roger Waters created his greatest masterpiece, but through it he severed all ties with what made him so great. He was a large part of Pink Floyd, probably the most important part, but without his supporting players he is nothing. In that respect he experiences a great amount of regret of losing the connection they had when they recorded "Dark Side of the Moon", and his songwriting ability was never as strong after "The Wall" even though "The Final Cut" was an incredible achievement, he lost a large musical element because he didn't let his biggest musical collaborator, Gilmour in at all.

Even the songs that Waters did write for The Wall by himself had to be approved by Gilmour and Ezrin, and if they weren't, Waters would have to rewrite them. With those two helping him, Waters songwriting improved because he got great constructive criticism from his collaborators, but with "The Final Cut", Waters listened to no one, and it is thought by many to not be a Pink Floyd record at all, but instead a Waters solo album.

There was something magical when Gilmour and Waters would write songs together. "Comfortably Numb" and "Wish You Were Here" are as good as the band ever got musically and lyrically and that was because Waters and Gilmour played off of each other, but with "The Final Cut" Waters lost all hope in Gilmour's songwriting ability and turned down all of Gilmour's demos that he recorded for "The Final Cut" calling them garbage.

Waters went on a steady decline after that, and none of his solo work compares to his work with Pink Floyd. Many masterpieces that an artist creates can come with great consequences, and Waters is full proof of that. Through his own large ego, the band that had once been so strong together faded into nothingness.

Roger Waters. From follower, to leader, to creator, to motivator, to genius, to villain, to monster, to nothing.

The Boy, The Man, The Journey- Part I: Stories of the Boy

Oh the Man, he comes home, and all he does is talk.  

I want to ask him a question, but before I know it, he's going on a walk. 

And the Lady, she wants me to tend to her maid.  

And I dream of the day when all of this can just go away. 

Well Old Ben suddenly disappeared from my life.

We used to be so close, we used to be so tight.

And I think he's going to call me up, but he found some other friends.

He used to make time for me, but not now, not in the end.  

Johnny he's the only one that ever understood.  

And he always made me feel better and I'm glad that he could.  

But he'll never understand where I really am.

He'll never understand what it's like to be Graham.

The Man thinks he's so great as he comes stomping down the stairs.

So proud of what he accomplished, so proud that he thinks he cares.

And as he looks at me with that look of disgust.

I can tell he he can't wait till I'm no longer with him, so he can leave me in the dust.   

The Maid just keeps on doing what she does.

She keeps using so much tissue, she keeps causing such a fuss.

At first it was kind of interesting, at first it was kind of fun.

But now she ties me down, she's the reason I'm so glum.

The Lady is losing it, because of the Maid.

It makes her so unhappy, it makes her so afraid.

She can't accept the fact that the Maid is breaking down.  

She can't accept the fact that one day she'll be in the ground.  

And Johnny he's in the palor, sitting with Veru.

And they're trying to send me out with a nice girl that I can talk to.

So I call her back, and when she answers the phone

Oh it feels so good to talk to someone so that I'm not all alone.

I went out with her that night, the light shined on her face.  

But I could tell that neither one of us wanted to be there in the first place.

But for some reason I still wanted her, for some reason I still wanted her to stay.

So I came up with a crazy idea, I said, "Let's go to Rome."

But then she said, "That's not going to happen, come on just take me home."

I begin to think about baseball.

I begin to think about fun it used to be and all.

But now it just gets boring every time the umpire makes a call.

And me I'm no longer what I used to be, I'm no good anymore.

I don't feel the need to keep on walking through the same door.

As I sit here, I begin to lose control.

Eight months of doing nothing, does nothing for your soul.

And I sit here so patiently waiting for something or someone to come

But I feel like all hope is lost and I'll always be on the run.

I wanted her for days, and I watched her swim in the lake.

She didn't need anyone telling her that she looked great.

I walked up to her and she smile and pursed her lips.

And I could feel myself give way as I touched her hips.

I got really bored one day, I stayed up till the break of dawn.

I was wondering what was wrong with my life, what was truly going on,

And as the Sun rose I called out, "Come on my friend, please give me something to see."

But I knew he was just coming up, it had nothing to do with me.

The old woman is till here.  I talked about her before, the Maid.

She turned everyone against each other, and was oblivious to her ways.  

She said were so kind, she said she loved us so much.

But in the end all she did was drive everyone nuts.

Size Matters Not

I find it interesting that such a big deal is made of the architecture of Gothic churches.  Are they impressive?  Of course, but does it really matter what the place looks like when what really matters is who is teaching you your religion?  I could be on the street and hear an evangelist and like what what he has to say more than some stuck up preacher in a fancy, big church.  It all depends on who is giving the sermon.  Appearances do not matter.  

As foolish as this sounds, I would like to use my subject header here in saying that size matters not which is a quote from the character Yoda from Star Wars: Episode V- The Empire Strikes Back.  When Yoda first meets young Luke Skywalker, Luke takes Yoda for being a fool.  Someone who doesn't know what he's doing and someone who will only get in his way of becoming a Jedi master.  But when it is revealed that this small creature is the Jedi master Yoda, Luke slowly begins to realize that it doesn't matter how someone looks, it's what they say, what the mean and how they present their ideas and of course their attitude and what they believe in.  

My ideal building for a Church wouldn't be a large building.  It would be a small little beach house.  Say maybe only two stories, but where we would have a service would be at the beach itself.  After the service, food and drink would be provided and guests could relax, chat amongst themselves and engage in various activities in the house such as watch television, play different games, or if it's warm just relax on the beach and go swimming.  

My religion is undecided.  I do not know what to believe in.  I'm not sure if there is a world after you leave this one.  I'm not sure if there is a God, or if there is, what he or she or it thinks is right or wrong.  I believe partially that the idea of God is just a fancier version of believing in yourself, nothing more.  If you have faith in something, you feel better about yourself, and that's ultimately the culmination of belief in anything.  Belief in yourself.  

The lessons I would try to teach in my "church" so to speak would be that you are in charge of how you feel.  That everyone has problems in life, but you have to choose with how you react to your problems and that will ultimately decide how happy you are in your life.  Also, that nothing is easy, you have to fight to get what you want, nothing comes easy.  These are simple messages that get completely forgotten about, but are some of the most important things there are in this world to know.  

Also that having good experiences, getting out there and actually living in the world with people that you love is one of the most important things you can ever experience.  To be kind to others, to be honest, and to just love one another.  There is no reason for all this hate that is spread around the world.  

My codes would be:

Have fun

Don't take things personally

Take time to relax

Work hard

Be kind

Love your friends and your loved ones

This takes what some of the values Christianity talks about, but makes it the focal point of what life is about.  There are no false stories of Adam and Eve or of Noah's Ark.  Who knows how true the Bible or any of that stuff is?  Why believe in someone (God) that might not even exist?

Why not believe in yourself?  Why not trust in the fact that if you live by these principles, that you can live a life that is just as rich and full as anyone who is a Christian or who is connected to any other religious group.

My services would include somewhat of a sermon, and then people would be free to ask the "preacher" about certain problems that would be affecting them, and fellow "churchgoers" and the "preacher" would listen and try to help them out with their problems.  

When I go to a church, I see a building on the outside.  I see on the inside people who are bound to something that might not be true.  I see people who believe in something, but does it make everyone believe in what they believe in?  No.  I think that the way my church would be set up, that it would appeal to everyone.  Because there would be no higher power, there would just be morals, and friends and in someways this would be a big support group that would just help each other out with problems, and they would all teach themselves valuable life lessons on living life.  We wouldn't be living our lives for God or Jesus, we'd be living them for us.  

When people would see my beach house, they would know where they were going.  They'd get this warm feeling and think that, "Finally, I'm meeting with a group of understanding people that know what I go through and can make me feel better about myself and won't judge me for my misdeeds.  They'll just be there and help me."

Like I don't see how listening to a bunch of stories from the Bible can relate to people.  I mean, I can- but let's be honest, what would be better than getting a group of people together, giving them important life lessons they can connect with and then everyone helping each other out with their problems in a completely positive way?  

That's what religion should be, betterment for yourself and those around you, not to be accepted and feared by some all holy and powerful being that might not even exist.  

The size of a building of worship has nothing to do with the quality of the message that you are about to receive.  All that matters is what that message is, and how it can help you as a person.  My building would be small, but my messages that I would send to others would hopefully help them just as much.  

The Selfishness of my Message

I am someone who is worshipped by some, loved by many and hated by others.  I gave my life to cleanse the sins of mankind.  I made the ultimate sacrifice for the people of the world, and yet, I have more disdain for the people who worship me than the people who don't.  The people who don't worship me acknowledge my existence, they just choose not to believe in me.  That is fine, that is their choice and I hold nothing against them.  

But the people who do worship me think of me in all the wrong ways.  I am depicted in many things (works of art and various films) as a normal white male.  Someone who appears to have been raised in Europe with long flowing blonde hair, a nice looking beard and with a ray of light all around me as in the art work, "The Head of Christ" by Warner Sallman.  How did it spread around that I, a poor Jewish man, become this perfect looking all powerful figure?  I had dark complexion, my hair was not as long and it was dark.  I feel like everyone who has this art work, sees me as the perfect looking white man.  The artist thought that this would appeal to most people in the world, and decided to portray me like this for his own benefit.  Historical accuracy, the facts?  Please, that doesn't make a profit in someone's home if it can't relate to them.  You can view this picture here:    https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3LOvOZrOXVNeRC0q1koFF82aItaDOHatltMIaMGIUhvli5TOBZn2IZV6JXij08f6cs3WIAAYrKR2hV7OL4FEVo_Z0ngDkg0bpLm6sLMpyUYqMwCC9J7fU7GjiYjScDrE-LLQB4uo_Jc8/s1600-h/The_Head_of_Christ_by_Warner_Sallman_1941.jpg

Something that makes me even sicker were the acts in beginning of the 20th century of the group the Ku Klux Klan.  They worshipped my name, they praised my message, but in all the wrong ways.  They would kill those who were different from them, they were terrible and mean spirited to my own people, the Jewish community.  This is not what I want at all.  This is not what I died for. The burning cross they lit before and after each of their meetings does not symbolize my love.  My message is love.  My message is not hate, and that's exactly what these people did.  That is what that burning cross symbolized.  Not sacrifice, not love, but hate.  For those of you not familiar with this, you can take a look at it here: 

http://www.georgetown.u47.k12.me.us/grade6.01/dn/16786350.jpg

Something else I can't believe is the way my name and message has been monopolized.  Mel Gibson's "The Passion of the Christ" is very powerful look at what happened to me upon my death.  At the same time, this is still not the message I am trying to send with my name.  People walk out of the theater viewing the film as a true message of my love.  How is watching my final moments of life a true message of my love?  True, it does so struggle, it shows sacrifice but what about the rest of my life?  What about all the good I did for the people before this moment?  It is here that I see that the filmmaker himself is anti-semetic as he depicts the Jewish race as evil and even has gone on record saying that he hates my people.  

Like him, so many others don't take into the account that I am Jewish.  That I still feel a strong connection to that faith, because that is how I was raised.  I did not realize that a completely different religion based on the message of my father and I would arise.  When it did, I was happy.  But some people have taken it too far.  They lose faith in the facts of what happened and make up their own way to view me with their own depictions, which are false. And the only reason they do this is to feel closer to me through their own culture.  Either accept me for what I am, or don't accept me at all.  

Others just don't take into account how they are using my name or if I would approve of what they were doing.  If the Ku Klux Klan could realize what I think of their terrible acts they would stop them.  But since they are so caught up in their own hate and their own selfish ways, they use my name to promote their evil ways and that is something I can't stand, and it is something that I hope one day will change.  

At the same time, I must realize that even though there are many things that are not true about me that many believe is true in the world today, that there are plenty of people that do good in this world, and they will always be there.  As long as there is someone out there who promotes my message in a helpful, and comforting way, I see no folly in that.  Maybe I am too caught up in my self image.  But I would just like the world to realize that I want truth.  I do not want something concocted by someone who thinks I should look different and completely change me, or using my image for their own good.  I want my image, I want my legacy to help people, and I want it done the way it should be done.  With truth.