Dec 29 2006

What's a boy to do?

Category: The Transcendental CowboyRandall Kelley @ 15:46

The Transcendental Cowboy is conversing with her (unbeknownst to her as it is all in his head):

Me too. What you said. I said it, too (just in my head). But don’t take that wrong. It feels as strong. It’s just once I say it then your dead. And I know life shouldn’t be this way, I should be able to say… anything. But past experience tells me that it’s just not true. I know if I confess, then it’s a mess, and I wouldn’t want to be the end of you.

What’s a boy to do?

TC



Dec 27 2006

Pleasant Tense

Category: The Transcendental CowboyRandall Kelley @ 13:39

She is always speaking in the pleasant tense. So in the now that it’s WOW. Zen mistress of the 7th degree. And, inexplicably, in love with me.

Some things make less sense than others. How her vibe is an environment and has such an effect on those around her (Emotional gravity totally disproportionate to mass). So barren of defect, it’s scary.

I’ve been lost in her presence since long in the past. I always try to stay in her orbit, as there are cosmic implications to the seismic event of her smile.

She is love on the Richter scale, my friend. And a friend on whom one can depend (as they say). In deed, indeed!

TC



Dec 20 2006

If I Had a Hammerhead

Category: The Transcendental CowboyRandall Kelley @ 19:22

The Transcendental Cowboy sings a song:

“If I had a planet, I’d plan it in the morning. I’d plan it in the evening, all over this land. I’d plan out danger. I’d plan out warning. And I’d plan love between my brothers and my sisters, all over this land.”

Then he realizes the problem with both his bastardization of a classic and the original, adding, “But please… no hot tarantula sex between brothers and sisters of the non metaphorical kind!”

And after a brief pause to reflect, the Cowboy adds yet one more addendum, “The rest of you have at it!”

TC



Dec 19 2006

Getting Things Done

Category: The Transcendental CowboyRandall Kelley @ 15:39

An unruly brain seemed to be causing a problem for the Cowboy. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, as he would have to think things through to do so, and his unruly brain was NOT cooperating!

Being aware of a concept being floated of “Getting Things Done”, or “GTD” in GTD parlance, he tried to devise a plan that would work for him. But there was that unruly brain again.

The Transcendental Cowboy waxed on about the whole situation, “I should write a book called ‘NOT getting things done’ with chapters on NOT remembering your brilliant ideas, planning when NOT to take action, and so forth. I can add an appendix on preferred medications to help an overly organized mind to let go.”

“Until then”, he decided, “I’ll just need a baseball bat and some pliers to fix this damn unruly brain of mine!”

TC



Dec 14 2006

Black Hole Love

Category: The Transcendental CowboyRandall Kelley @ 15:29

The two things he never saw were her mouth saying she loved him and her eyes saying she didn’t.

Still, it’s been a long, long time. (In this or any other galaxy no matter how far, far away). So he determines that he must come to the inevitable conclusion that he got lost somewhere in that disconnect between her feelings and her intent, and therefore he does not exist “in her eyes OR in her mouth.” (as he puts it).

Seeing that void between feelings and actions as the “Black Hole” of personal physics, the Transcendental Cowboy asks, “Is there someone else, besides me, that calculates existence by the absence of love? And if so, how many people has it been since we met?”

TC



Dec 08 2006

Eat a Pie!

Category: The Transcendental CowboyRandall Kelley @ 17:21

An overwhelming, mind numbing, and ball shrinking sense of doom seems to be the place the Cowboy has wandered into. Fast approaching the big three thousand and not looking forward to it one bit.

Others look nostalgically back at their tribal roots, not noticing that those roots are showing. And like a bleach blond that does not want to go brown, the Cowboy suspects the reemergence of tribal mentality is not a good thing.

“My tribe good, your tribe bad. Me wipe you off face of earth!”, the Transcendental Cowboy is muttering. (And this is while watching diplomats and world leaders in fine suits make their speeches to the world.)

Reminded daily that there is nothing Mohammad-like about the violence happening in his much abused name, nothing Moses-like in those tanks and bulldozers, and certainly nothing Christ-like in the daily pronouncements of judgment emanating from the mouths of televangelists and “mega church” pastors.

The Cowboy sneers, “Do you think when Jesus said to his followers ‘You are my church.’ he meant they were an auditorium size building?”

As the whole influx of rhetoric and bile neared the stage where his mental levees were going to play New Orleans on him, the Transcendental Cowboy yelled one last plea for peace an love. “Will the pious please just eat a pie? Leave the bombs, guns, and politics to people less willing to accuse, judge, and punish others in their God’s name. After all, that’s what ALL your prophets asked.”

TC



Nov 29 2006

They Invented Reincarnation

Category: The Transcendental CowboyRandall Kelley @ 22:17

I can’t imagine that eternal reward should be any different than the material reward offered on this planet at this time. That is to say that the inherent reward in each may differ, money in this life and time in the hereafter, but in the way that money can be either a curse or a blessing, time could be the same.

Money can allow you freedom to help your loved ones, or get your loved ones kidnapped. Get you a new car or get you robbed. Eternity could be nice, making love or having desert forever. But eternity eating undercooked chicken and being molested by your worst enemy?

The Transcendental Cowboy checks his karma, and looks over his shoulder to be sure he hasn’t crossed anyone lately. Then he thinks of all his past mistakes. He wonders how many steps down the road one has to travel before leaving the ghost of transgression behind?

Then he announces his conclusion, “Not enough steps in this life, that’s for sure… No wonder they invented reincarnation.”

TC



Nov 21 2006

Insanely Wet

Category: The Transcendental CowboyRandall Kelley @ 18:37

A bright spot appeared in the sky, mimicking what the sun might look like if this place ever saw it. People covered their eyes and looked at each other quizzically, flummoxed by the sight. It was, of course, still pouring rain. There would be no reason for a sneak peek at the sun to dampen the dampening that the city was living with this year. Just because the monthly record had been set already was no reason for the weather gods to give a break to the waterlogged. There were, after all, still nearly two weeks left to accumulate more, and all the signs pointed to nothing but more wet.

The Transcendental Cowboy had seen a few unusual things recently. And while he wasn’t yet ready to concede biblical sign status to any of what he had seen thus far, he was to the point of questioning his vision, if not his sanity.

He felt obligated however, questioned sanity or not, to state the obvious. “I’ve never seen a duck wearing a raincoat before!”

To which the duck replied, “Well, I don’t see you running around dressed in feathers!”

And so, as the Transcendental Cowboy drifted away on a particularly intense gust of wind, he couldn’t help thinking to himself, “I wonder just what herb was in that herb tea?”

TC



Nov 15 2006

Little Monkey

Category: The Transcendental CowboyRandall Kelley @ 18:33

A dirty little monkey is running the planet, high on something like bloodlust, throwing lives away like banana peels, and spreading the seeds of hatred across the globe.

The Cowboy mutters, “I hate that little monkey!”

Ooops, there it is… The hatred that springs forth like a malicious, noxious weed, with it’s nasty roots crushing our hearts in its grip. Our best intentions brought down to the level of shouting slogans and epithets. We grind to a halt like computers infested with worms. It’s the infectious anger that is born from the frustration of the powerless.

The Transcendental Cowboy ponders the thought that ‘Make Love, Not War’ may just be more than a trite slogan. He calculates that if you focus on someone you love instead of someone you hate, you will do more good than spewing anger on others just because they happen to be nearby. Possibly, he thinks, when you get really good at it you may turn to past words of wisdom and understand what ‘Love Thy Neighbor’ was all about.

Then he says, “Damn you, little monkey!”, as he realizes he’s not there yet.

TC



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