j guevara

Happy Birthday Mark Twain

Sunday, November 29th, 2009

175 years and still news of your demise has been greatly exaggerated.

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Vice Verses: a book of rhymin’ crime

Sunday, November 29th, 2009

In Search Of The Ultimate Truth

From Big Bang to Ying Yang, you name it, I tried it:

Astral projection, Childhood Rejection, EST, Seth, Chess,

Primal Scream, Wet Dream, lost soul, Pentecostal,

Macrobiotic, Embryonic, Sufi, sushi, Rolf, golf,

Numerology, Scientology, and every other –ology from astro- to zoo-,

Naturopathy, Herbal tea, neuralpharmachology…

Like Weed, speed, LSD, peyote,

Spiritual Improvement, American Indian Movement,

Deist, Atheist, Evolutionist, Creationist,

Nichiren Shoshu, shakubuku, Go, nam-yo-ho-ren-ga-kyo,

Biorhythm, Inner Child, Primitivism.

Nordic Runes, rising moons, 2nd coming, morning running,

I Ching hexagram, Amnesty International, Oxfam,

Tae Kwan do, Aikido, judo, sprouts and other rabbit food,

Kung-fu, jiu-jitsu, granola and tofu too,

I walked the plank of Ultimate Truths

When illusion vanished, the fads out played and I stayed, undaunted

Left with the knowledge that everyone has all along what counted

There are no shortcuts for none are needed

The distance between your head and heart is not that far

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The Inside Pitch on the Cleveland Indians…

Sunday, November 29th, 2009

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Imagine …to be free: a journey through the threshold of the next stage of evolution

Sunday, November 29th, 2009

Introduction

You may find a path in the woods, across a meadow, or leading to a mountaintop.  However, there is no such thing as a path to enlightenment.  If there were it would have been well beaten by now and, like any path, easily recognizable.

What I might have found, though not well marked, is a trail – a trail so little traveled that at times I’m not all that sure where it’s heading, but I am positive it’s heading in the right direction.  It’s easy to lose this trail and bushwhacking your way back can be difficult, especially when the signs can be more obscure than a 1000-year-old footprint.

Yes, you could say this trail is really cold.  So far I’ve been lucky.  I hope that you’ll be luckier and that my blazes to this point will help you find the end of this trail.

If so, would you kindly remember me and come back to point out the way?  In the meantime, if I find that well-beaten path, you’ll be the first to know.

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From The Jungle: monkeyshines, shenanigans and primitive opinions

Sunday, November 29th, 2009

Introduction

Most times I didn’t believe it myself.  I even questioned if jungle solitude had adversely affected my mind.  When I counted the missing beers and the misplaced rum, however, and looked at the mess that was left after every session, I knew I’d been blessed by Nature’s best.  My Jungle friends, that gang of monkeys with their toucan and python I call the Motley Crew, are just that, and a rare breed they are.  Not since Man has climbed down from the trees has a man been more privileged to share the wit and insight of those still so close to the source.  They have shown me the meaning of ‘lesser’ intelligence, and if there is a missing link, it must be you and I.

Many will say I had an illusion, for nothing in the jungle speaks to man, it’s just animals, birds, bugs, and trees.  I understand their query, though no longer share their doubt.  The defining line here is truth, which is unique in everyone who cares to see.  Thus, the truth that abides in you is what makes you different from the truth that abides in me.  Defined truth, however, the one we readily share, is but an agreed reality, which makes reality nothing more than a collective hunch.  Therefore, truth is not important in the question of, ‘To be or not to be’.  For in truth what you will find is that only…  Imagination, shall set you free.

Posted in Coming-Soon | 1 Comment »

From The Jungle: monkeyshines, shenanigans and primitive opinions

Saturday, November 28th, 2009

Most times I didn’t believe it myself. I even questioned if jungle solitude had adversely affected my mind. When I counted the missing beers and the misplaced rum, however, and looked at the mess that was left after every session, I knew I’d been blessed by Nature’s best. My Jungle friends, that gang of monkeys with their toucan and python I call the Motley Crew, are just that, and a rare breed they are. Not since Man has climbed down from the trees has a man been more privileged to share the wit and insight of those still so close to the source. They have shown me the meaning of ‘lesser’ intelligence, and if there is a missing link, it must be you and I.

Many will say I had an illusion, for nothing in the jungle speaks to man, it’s just animals, birds, bugs, and trees. I understand their query, though no longer share their doubt. The defining line here is truth, which is unique in everyone who cares to see. Thus, the truth that abides in you is what makes you different from the truth that abides in me. Defined truth, however, the one we readily share, is but an agreed reality, which makes reality nothing more than a collective hunch. Therefore, truth is not important in the question of, ‘To be or not to be’. For in truth what you will find is that only… Imagination, shall set you free.

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Cookin’ Away With j: the man who takes the ‘T’ out of diet

Saturday, November 28th, 2009

Tea Smoked Duck

This easy to do, long time to get ready, Chinese dish is a guaranteed hit that’ll make you look like a Tao master, wiser than Confucius.

One whole duck – Cornish hens or chicken also works (or is it ‘woks’?).  I don’t skin it, but I do trim off some of the excess fat and the Pope’s nose.
Small bottle of sake
A few cloves of chopped garlic
Chopped onion scallions
A few pieces of star anis

Put it all in a plastic cooking bag – make sure it doesn’t leak – and marinate in the fridge for about two hours or three days, turning it every time you think about it.

When ready, take four wooden chopsticks and form a tic-tac-toe with them in your wok.  Place the duck on the chopsticks and pour the sake over, into, and under.  Cover (your wok should have come with a cover) and steam for about an hour.

Then take the duck with sticks out, clean the wok, put a piece of aluminum foil in the bottom and place a palm of brown sugar and a heaping palm of black tea on it.  Put the duck with sticks back into the wok, cover, and turn on the heat as high as you can.  Although you keep the lid on tight, you’re going to have some smoke escaping, so you’ll need a ventilation fan running the whole time.  This will be cause for concern from your neighbors, so it might also be a good idea to call the fire department beforehand and tell them it’s a false alarm.

Smoke it ‘til there’s no more smoke trying to escape, about  20 minutes to a half hour.  The duck will turn a chocolate brown, and the taste will be dynamite.  Uncle Ben’s wild rice mix, and sautéed Brussels sprouts go great with this dinner, and if you’re making it for just the two of you, there should be plenty left over for the firemen, who even knowing it’s a false alarm, will respond anyway once word spreads about your delicious Tea Smoked Duck

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…The Twain Shall Meet

Saturday, November 28th, 2009

Even pale, cold and drenched to the bone, in his wet, salty, once white suit, and his unkempt crop of white hair, he could have passed for Colonel Sanders.  By the unweatherd look of the dinghy, he couldn’t have been adrift for long before the tide washed him ashore.  Face wasn’t weathered, lips weren’t parched.  As I lifted him out, he coughed seawater, so I laid him face down and pushed with both hands on his back.  Cough got stronger, pulse was good.  He was coming around.

As I rolled him over, he was conscious enough to motion that he wanted to sit up.  Just then that first rush of incoming tide rolled over the sand, so I helped him to higher ground.  He couldn’t have weighed much over one-forty, wasn’t tall or agile; certainly not in his prime.  I guessed he was in his seventies.

I took the bottle of Perrier out of my pouch, unscrewed the cap, and handed it to him.  As he gulped it down I suggested he sit here and rest while I go call an ambulance.

He grabbed my arm, not a tight grip, but firm enough to make his point.  “That will not be necessary.  I will be fine.  Please,” he insisted.

Dehydrated and maybe suffering from who knows what, he needed help, professional help; or at least a quick look by someone better qualified than a nightly beach bum who couldn’t pass a Scouts’ badge in first aid.  But he was insistent, even in his diminished condition, so I went along.

Normally, I wouldn’t have been on the beach at this hour. Usually I took my stroll after dusk; but this was the year of Halley’s comet, and Key West was the best location in the continental U.S. to view this septuagenarian event.  Hence, as expected, Galileo wannabes from every state in the Union were scattered along the beach, adjusting their galactic magnifying glasses as if they were calibrating for the Mauna Kea Observatory.

Until this phenomenon passed, I resigned myself to predawn walks, after the sky gazers had shut down.  And again the beach was mine, all mine; that time with my mind when I get to play with my brain – my favorite pastime.

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The Site Launch!

Saturday, November 28th, 2009

Greeting’s y’all, welcome to the launch of my blogs and site. History in the making (I hope). Stick around or check back, will have something new everyday, if all goes as planned.

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Cookin’ Away With j: the man who takes the ‘T’ out of diet

Saturday, November 28th, 2009

A cookbook that gives men a reason to be in the kitchen. Ingredients are measured by hand; author has large hands. A culturally informative collection of international cuisine from every continent (except Antarctica).

Reviews

Deliciously funny. I never realized how much fun cooking could be.
-Jelena Vencl Ohlrogge

This book is THE cookbook of the century. It is like peeking into a hilarious master chef’s top-secret journal. Wanna impress the spouse, family or friends? Nothing makes the women hotter, the family prouder and the friends fonder than exploding their taste buds, 5-star style. Cookin’ Away With j makes Betty Crocker look like child’s play. I went from being culinary closed-off to even making my grandma jealous! Thanks j!
-Chris Campbell, author

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Pot’s on… KAWFEEE!!

Saturday, November 28th, 2009

A place for dialogue .  Therefore, no ad hominines, or former members of the high school debating team.  As for generalities we all indulge occasionally, which is ok so long as we deal in individualities.
“It is differences of opinion that make horse races.” - Mark Twain

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