Ahhhh...the joys of small town living! Sure, we can still smell the hustle and bustle of Dallas from where we hail but it all gets lost in the translation between the city limits signs. You’d think that the nerve and ability that it takes to deal with those from another realm of reality would be amazing enough to win over the most hard core of skeptics but for some reason or another, population seems to reflect intelligence. We are paranormal investigators…and we are outcasts.
When I had my first paranormal experience with my co founder and now wife, I was under the false impression that the populous would be more than ecstatic to get behind us and show support for the burden that we were about to undertake. What’s not to get excited about? A group of people that have the nerve to hang out in moonlit country cemeteries and old, abandoned houses and actually search for the things that keep most people awake at night, dreading to make the darkened journey to the bathroom for fear of what possibly lurks beyond the shower curtain. Sounds exciting, right? They hate us. They fear us.
The two of us founded P.R.I.N.T., Paranormal Research and Investigations of North Texas seven years ago not only in the attempt to answer some of the questions that were swimming frantically in our own minds, but to offer these same services to the general public in order to ease their fears and create awareness that there are things out there that none of us totally understand. Basically what we were told was that ghosts cease to exist within the city limits of small town Texas.
As we investigated and were successful in producing evidence, the internet community welcomed us with open arms. Paranormal groups that have been doing this sort of thing for decades accepted us into their family to share our successes, our failures, and our feelings. In the real world, we were cursed, ridiculed, or just ignored all together. That’s ok, cruel world, we still love and want to help you understand. Perhaps if you knew our story…
It was early one morning as I was suiting up for the monotony of my day job when I suggested to my partner in crime that maybe we needed to get a move onto starting this little hobby we’d been discussing.
It was spontaneous but I knew that we’d never be able to accomplish our goal without that first step out the door, regardless of how unprepared and uneducated we were. With a micro cassette recorder and a borrowed digital camera, we headed to a darkened graveyard with the intention of pulling the B.S. card on all of the paranormal shows that were being televised. Sure, we were hard core believers, but was it really that easy to obtain physical evidence of the paranormal?
On a chilly, late October night we traversed the knee high grass and headstones of a cemetery, filling the sky with brilliant flashes of light from the camera and asking questions into the darkness. The friend that loaned us the camera decided to tag along but was under the impression that we were a few giggles shy of a full laugh. In the back of my mind, I was agreeing. Not once since we’d been out there had I seen the eerie form of a shadow across the graves or a voice calling to us from the land of the dead. It was cold, it was dark, and it was creepy. After two hours of walking the same paths over and over again (because there’s only so many times you can read the same weathered headstones) we packed up and headed for home. With our ghost hunting cherries officially popped, I looked forward to the discovery of absolutely nothing. No pun intended, I was dead wrong.
After listening to about an hours worth of the recording, we were about to cut it short and head off to bed, not even remotely disappointed of our lack of findings. I was swearing never to watch another episode of paranormal anything when the tape revealed something that was entirely different. We both froze dead in our tracks, our spines tingling, and stared blankly at one another. We ran the tape back, over and over again, listening attentively to the voice of an unidentified male repeat the word ‘Carla’. I didn’t know who Carla was and at this exact moment, I didn’t really care. Knowing good and well that I was the only male that was in the cemetery earlier in the evening, I came to grips that we had officially
captured our first EVP. Not much, just a name, but our first EVP! Maybe these over hyped celebrity ghost hunters were on to something after all. The kicker of it all was that the tape wasn’t complete with revealing its mysteries yet.
As we listened attentively to the rest of the recording, we were overjoyed yet again when a female voice explained to us the most obvious of explanations. She said, as plain as a ghost can possibly speak on an ancient micro cassette recorder, ‘We’re Under Here’! All of a sudden, this was all real. Over the next couple of weeks, we feasted on all the paranormal information that the internet and the bookstores had to offer. We couldn’t wait to get back out there again. A lot of time has passed since that fateful night. We’ve since exited the cemeteries and moved on to greener pastures such as Six Flags and Texas A&M University. What a ride it’s been…
I first began to notice the separation caused by the opinions of the existence of the paranormal when I took the recorder to my job to share with co workers. There were a few that really dug what we were doing, but many more believed that I had completely lost my mind, no matter how many times they heard the disembodied voices on the tape. Some people actually got up and left because it scared them. What was wrong? Is this not the coolest thing since…well, since anything? Either way, it didn’t matter. We wanted more and we were going to go out and get it.
We continued to schedule and create our own investigations and the evidence began to stack up. I would write online about our findings and investigations and our internet following began to grow quickly. Soon after, others began to contact us with their paranormal concerns seeking advice and the chance for us to come and investigate their homes and businesses. Two years later, ‘A Ghost Hunter’s Journal’ was published, ‘We Believe You’ a year later, and have been claimed as the influence for a couple of new paranormal groups that had been created in our area. Granted…they didn’t last that long…but we were their influence nonetheless. I know ghosts exist without question. They’ve spoken to us, both in recordings and in real time but I guess the main question that keeps me puzzled is…where’s the love?
Sure, you could blame the religious affiliations of small town life but if you ponder that excuse, you come to the realization that the Bible is filled with paranormal events from cover to cover. Why would religious fanatics hate and fear us? It’s not that the existence of paranormal events came to a screeching halt when the book was completed; it’s just that they quit writing the book! We’re not conjuring demons at midnight and sacrificing small farm animals in the name of the unknown, we’re just trying to uncover the well hidden truth!
The fact of the matter is, I was misinformed (because ‘lied to’ is too strong of a phrase) over the years by my teachers, preachers, and parents by being told that there wasn’t a monster in my closet. We’re ghost hunters, small town Texas, and we’re not going anywhere. Sure, we could move to the heart of the biggest city in the area and leave you all behind to participate in your hoe downs and flea markets but the ghosts will still remain. We’re not asking you to join us. We’re not even asking you to believe in the existence of the supernatural. All we want is the chance to do what we do without slamming into a brick wall of closed mindedness at every corner. Yes, you may not want to know what’s really out there and live inside your quiet, safe heads but there are some who eagerly await the discovery of the truth. That’s where we come in.
If you still don’t want to love and accept us, I guess we can live with that. Even without your love and support, the number of the people involved in this field grows by giant leaps everyday. With so many people attempting to accomplish a similar goal, we get closer and closer to truth and understanding regardless of how much you preach and condemn us. Why can’t you stop us, you ask? How is it that we keep going? I have learned to feed off of you. If you tell me I’m un-Godly, I tell you that it’s un – Godly to point fingers. If you tell me that I’m alone in my quest, I tell you to type the words ‘paranormal investigator’ into an internet search engine. You like to avoid people like me all together? I’ll get a T-shirt printed with our group’s logo and wear it proudly so I can be recognized from a distance and you don’t even have to risk eye contact. (I actually did this! I never got through a Wal-Mart check out line so fast in my life!)
So fear not and don’t get discouraged, young seekers of truths. I am on your side. Keep the faith and never question what you stand for. Keep on dreaming because, in a field such as this, the possibilities are endless. Most importantly, today and forever, keep believing. Join P.R.I.N.T.’s Facebook at http://www.facebook.com/paranormalnorthtexas to support the ongoing adventure…
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Anyone Need A Ride?
Anyone Need A Ride?
In the past few weeks, I’ve touched briefly on gay bashing, racial stereotyping, and several other things that just really rub me the wrong way. Now that I mention it, there aren’t may things out there today that rub me the right way…unless you count my lovely wife or my cat when he’s sitting on top of a blanket I happen to be under and he’s not too sure of his rubbing trajectory. This week, and I’ve been holding this one back, is going to be on the most famous subject that our tiny town has to offer. No, it’s not how to make methamphetamine…its religion. Just to give you a little bit of background on where I’m coming from with it…I was raised in a small local church that always had something bad to say about someone. According to this tiny congregation, the ones that possess their personal beliefs are the only ones going to have joy in the afterlife. The Catholics, Baptists, Methodists, Jews, Pagans, Taoists, Buddhists, Muslims etc (yeah, I failed to mention one particular belief which makes it easy to figure out the ones I’m speaking of) are all going to burn in hell…but they're not going to do it alone. The other people of this particular religion talk smack on the others within their religion that doesn’t belong to their particular building. So basically, 80 people in this world are going to heaven and they’re all from North Texas. Lovely. The rest of the world is destined to be pissed off when they find this little tidbit of information out! Anyway, back to the story at hand, I grew up in this church against my will, forced to go there every day the doors were open like Black Friday at Macy’s, where I was also baptized against my will…just because everyone else my age was doing it. I should’ve caught on to this quickly because I was given the whole ‘if everyone else is doing it’ explanation on several different occasions when it came to my friends doing stupid stuff growing up. Why was this situation any different? Regardless, I continued to attend on a regular basis throughout life…until I moved away to experience the world through innocent eyes. A military career and a move to Los Angeles later, my eyes were miraculously altered forever and I returned home to a rude awakening. My views and beliefs were no longer as narrow as those that congregated around me in worship. Enduring a divorce and rescuing a dear friend from a violent marriage, I figured the last thing I needed in my life was to be a hypocrite in a room full of people that were trying to do good by their beliefs. Why drag the rest of them down, right? That was right about the time that I received my invitation to oblivion in the mailbox. It reads as follows…
To: Chad Miller
From: Brethren of the ____________
Subject: Withdrawal of fellowship and delivery to the Devil
Brother Miller, we know that you understand that your manner of living is not in
accordance with the teachings of the New Testament. Several brethren have discussed
these things with you and you have refused to repent.
Adultery is condemned in Galatians 5 as a work of the flesh and those who
commit such will not inherit the kingdom of God. You need to understand this and
repent of your sinful and shameful life.
You are not a proper father to your children and refuse to provide for them. You
only seem interested in your own lust. You are commanded to bring them up in the
nurture and admonition of the Lord (Eph 6:4) and are an utter and total failure in this
area.
We have called on you to repent. You have not done so. We then are
commanded to withdraw from you (2 Thess 3:6), deliver you to Satan 1 Corr 5:5) and
mark you and have no fellowship with you (Rom 16:17-18).
We call on you to repent (Acts 8:22; 1 Jm 1:9; James 5:16) and admonish you to
return to the Lord and His church and right living.
The purpose of this withdrawal is to show our love for the Lord and His
commandments to us. Also, to show our love and concern for your soul. These things
have a two-fold purpose:
To cause you to realize the seriousness of your condition (please read 2 Pet 2:20-22);
To keep the church pure (read 1 Cor 5)
And to keep your ungodly influence from others who are members of this local church
(read 1 Cor 5:6)
As of this time the Church withdraws fellowship from you and
has delivered you unto Satan.
Translation: My meth addict ex wife dropped my children off at my parent’s house after she promised she was keeping our home. I had already moved out of the home and into my van…and then a small apartment shortly after. Greenville TX isn’t the money making Mecca that some people believe it is. My best friend was being beaten on a daily basis by her husband (I still have the wads of hair that had been yanked from her head to prove it) and I allowed her to move in with me for her protection. Granted, we’re now married and yes, the relationship began after she moved in…but no one ever bothered to ask…they just presumed that I was doing the horizontal mambo because she was of the female persuasion. She and I had been closer than close for 15 years and hadn’t been involved sexually all that time. Yes...it can be done. As if I didn’t doubt my beliefs before…this was indeed the final straw. Since those days that seem like an eternity ago…3 published novels later, a better job, a couple of successful non profit groups, a larger home with room for my children, and a wife that is addicted to me rather than illegal substances…I’ve finally came to the conclusion that I’m a Naturalist. I have friends and family members that have various different religious beliefs and we all live together harmoniously. I married a Catholic, have a father in law that is Jewish, and have several friends that are firm believers in Paganism, Taoism, Atheism, and more belief systems than you can shake a collection plate at! I also have a lot of Christian friends as well. How do we remain friends without starting a thousand year war? We keep it to ourselves and refuse to discuss it. In my opinion, and using the lessons I have learned from the various tragedies and wars we have been involved in for centuries, religion is something that is meant to be personal. Granted…I love it when people celebrate their religion for the entire world to see because they feel enlightened. Congratulations to you and yours that you believe in absolutely anything in this day and age of media horror being force fed down our throats along with our TV. dinners nightly. My problem is when people belonging to a certain faith bash and condemn others for theirs. Aren’t we all supposed to get along and not point fingers? If it is a sin to do so…then maybe there are only going to be 80 people in heaven when it’s all said and done…but I doubt it will be the ones I formerly worshipped with because they never have anything nice to say about anyone else’s beliefs either. Perhaps a few will make it. Who knows? Metaphorically, maybe they were right on the money. Perhaps the way our world has become as of late is the hell that they have condemned me to? I wish I could feel the power of absolute trust and belief in an all knowing entity but according to the local church I belonged to as a child, I am condemned to spend an eternity below now…all on speculation. Actually, they didn’t send it to my mailbox certified with a return receipt like the IRS so I might be alright. Time will tell. In the meantime, anyone that ever tells you to ‘go to hell’…have no fear. I have a letter in my possession proving that I am heading in that general direction and I’ll be more than happy to give you a ride…if indeed you were simply worried about the transportation issue. We’ll have to go in halfsies on gas though. That stuff is a hell all it's own.
In the past few weeks, I’ve touched briefly on gay bashing, racial stereotyping, and several other things that just really rub me the wrong way. Now that I mention it, there aren’t may things out there today that rub me the right way…unless you count my lovely wife or my cat when he’s sitting on top of a blanket I happen to be under and he’s not too sure of his rubbing trajectory. This week, and I’ve been holding this one back, is going to be on the most famous subject that our tiny town has to offer. No, it’s not how to make methamphetamine…its religion. Just to give you a little bit of background on where I’m coming from with it…I was raised in a small local church that always had something bad to say about someone. According to this tiny congregation, the ones that possess their personal beliefs are the only ones going to have joy in the afterlife. The Catholics, Baptists, Methodists, Jews, Pagans, Taoists, Buddhists, Muslims etc (yeah, I failed to mention one particular belief which makes it easy to figure out the ones I’m speaking of) are all going to burn in hell…but they're not going to do it alone. The other people of this particular religion talk smack on the others within their religion that doesn’t belong to their particular building. So basically, 80 people in this world are going to heaven and they’re all from North Texas. Lovely. The rest of the world is destined to be pissed off when they find this little tidbit of information out! Anyway, back to the story at hand, I grew up in this church against my will, forced to go there every day the doors were open like Black Friday at Macy’s, where I was also baptized against my will…just because everyone else my age was doing it. I should’ve caught on to this quickly because I was given the whole ‘if everyone else is doing it’ explanation on several different occasions when it came to my friends doing stupid stuff growing up. Why was this situation any different? Regardless, I continued to attend on a regular basis throughout life…until I moved away to experience the world through innocent eyes. A military career and a move to Los Angeles later, my eyes were miraculously altered forever and I returned home to a rude awakening. My views and beliefs were no longer as narrow as those that congregated around me in worship. Enduring a divorce and rescuing a dear friend from a violent marriage, I figured the last thing I needed in my life was to be a hypocrite in a room full of people that were trying to do good by their beliefs. Why drag the rest of them down, right? That was right about the time that I received my invitation to oblivion in the mailbox. It reads as follows…
To: Chad Miller
From: Brethren of the ____________
Subject: Withdrawal of fellowship and delivery to the Devil
Brother Miller, we know that you understand that your manner of living is not in
accordance with the teachings of the New Testament. Several brethren have discussed
these things with you and you have refused to repent.
Adultery is condemned in Galatians 5 as a work of the flesh and those who
commit such will not inherit the kingdom of God. You need to understand this and
repent of your sinful and shameful life.
You are not a proper father to your children and refuse to provide for them. You
only seem interested in your own lust. You are commanded to bring them up in the
nurture and admonition of the Lord (Eph 6:4) and are an utter and total failure in this
area.
We have called on you to repent. You have not done so. We then are
commanded to withdraw from you (2 Thess 3:6), deliver you to Satan 1 Corr 5:5) and
mark you and have no fellowship with you (Rom 16:17-18).
We call on you to repent (Acts 8:22; 1 Jm 1:9; James 5:16) and admonish you to
return to the Lord and His church and right living.
The purpose of this withdrawal is to show our love for the Lord and His
commandments to us. Also, to show our love and concern for your soul. These things
have a two-fold purpose:
To cause you to realize the seriousness of your condition (please read 2 Pet 2:20-22);
To keep the church pure (read 1 Cor 5)
And to keep your ungodly influence from others who are members of this local church
(read 1 Cor 5:6)
As of this time the Church withdraws fellowship from you and
has delivered you unto Satan.
Translation: My meth addict ex wife dropped my children off at my parent’s house after she promised she was keeping our home. I had already moved out of the home and into my van…and then a small apartment shortly after. Greenville TX isn’t the money making Mecca that some people believe it is. My best friend was being beaten on a daily basis by her husband (I still have the wads of hair that had been yanked from her head to prove it) and I allowed her to move in with me for her protection. Granted, we’re now married and yes, the relationship began after she moved in…but no one ever bothered to ask…they just presumed that I was doing the horizontal mambo because she was of the female persuasion. She and I had been closer than close for 15 years and hadn’t been involved sexually all that time. Yes...it can be done. As if I didn’t doubt my beliefs before…this was indeed the final straw. Since those days that seem like an eternity ago…3 published novels later, a better job, a couple of successful non profit groups, a larger home with room for my children, and a wife that is addicted to me rather than illegal substances…I’ve finally came to the conclusion that I’m a Naturalist. I have friends and family members that have various different religious beliefs and we all live together harmoniously. I married a Catholic, have a father in law that is Jewish, and have several friends that are firm believers in Paganism, Taoism, Atheism, and more belief systems than you can shake a collection plate at! I also have a lot of Christian friends as well. How do we remain friends without starting a thousand year war? We keep it to ourselves and refuse to discuss it. In my opinion, and using the lessons I have learned from the various tragedies and wars we have been involved in for centuries, religion is something that is meant to be personal. Granted…I love it when people celebrate their religion for the entire world to see because they feel enlightened. Congratulations to you and yours that you believe in absolutely anything in this day and age of media horror being force fed down our throats along with our TV. dinners nightly. My problem is when people belonging to a certain faith bash and condemn others for theirs. Aren’t we all supposed to get along and not point fingers? If it is a sin to do so…then maybe there are only going to be 80 people in heaven when it’s all said and done…but I doubt it will be the ones I formerly worshipped with because they never have anything nice to say about anyone else’s beliefs either. Perhaps a few will make it. Who knows? Metaphorically, maybe they were right on the money. Perhaps the way our world has become as of late is the hell that they have condemned me to? I wish I could feel the power of absolute trust and belief in an all knowing entity but according to the local church I belonged to as a child, I am condemned to spend an eternity below now…all on speculation. Actually, they didn’t send it to my mailbox certified with a return receipt like the IRS so I might be alright. Time will tell. In the meantime, anyone that ever tells you to ‘go to hell’…have no fear. I have a letter in my possession proving that I am heading in that general direction and I’ll be more than happy to give you a ride…if indeed you were simply worried about the transportation issue. We’ll have to go in halfsies on gas though. That stuff is a hell all it's own.
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
This Is Going To Hurt A Little...
This is going to hurt a little…
I hesitated repeatedly this week in writing a rant because I couldn’t quite put my finger on a subject. There were way too many to choose from. This has been one of the worst couple of weeks for my lovely wife and me in recent memory and, in just the period of those few days, I gained enough rant material to last for the next six months easily. Why focus on the negative though? Why let this stuff fester and build inside of me? Negativity begets negativity. It’s true on the physical plane as well as the mental. If you don’t believe me…check out The Secret. Does it work? Who knows…but the ones that initiated it into society are now multi billionaires and there’s nothing at all negative about that. To surprise the few that have adopted it’s principals without fully researching it…welcome to the world of witchcraft! Positive reinforcement and mental visualization to effect change on the physical level has been an every day practice in the Pagan belief system since the dawn of mankind! Gotta love marketing. I dare you to run off and tell your preacher that 'The Secret' works for you! Please tell me when you do so I can be present to watch him burn you at the stake!
The negative streak of no return started a couple of weeks ago when a friend of mine attempted to take her own life and was nearly successful. Before this…I had always preached to the masses that would listen about being the master of your own destiny and how people should be allowed to end it all if they so chose to. It’s your life, right? Shouldn’t you be able to do with it as you will as long as it doesn’t hurt anyone else in the process? It’s funny how your belief system seems to break down in the face of someone you care about personally and I was very glad that a well timed friend intervened at the last minute and saved her life. This all occurred because she chooses to live a different lifestyle and views the world around her through alternative eyes compared to the local population. I guess there is only so much you can take and only so trapped you can feel before you begin searching for a quick escape from the persecution. Damn you, bullies of the world, for not only refusing to think outside of your meager boxes, but for stabbing every other box in the heart that lands nearest your perimeter. In our house are many boxes...and her’s is now safely hidden within it. You failed.
On the opposite side of the spectrum of popularity, another friend’s sixteen year old daughter was ejected from her vehicle after rolling over nearly a dozen times and was taken from our lives before she was ever allowed to recognize her potential or leave her mark upon this unforgiving world. She was heavily accepted by most, was a cheerleader, and played for her high school soft ball team…or at least that’s what the television news reported. Obviously, death knows no social boundaries but the media feeds off of them like sharks at a beachside Tampax commercial filming. Not that my ‘unpopular to the power’s that be’ friend would’ve accepted any media attention for her life being saved…but she was never offered. Don’t drink…don’t smoke…don’t do drugs…eat right…be heterosexual…go to church every Sunday…and die anyway. The angel of death cares not…but Fox News will love you for it. Where does it all end and who can you really trust? Your family? Definitely not. Your friends? Sometimes. The doctor? Hell no! Riding on the heels of the second weekly tragedy came a phone call from one of my wife’s life long friends that informed us she’d been misdiagnosed her entire life by doctors convincing her that she was a walking mental issue with a person wrapped around it and had now discovered the cause of her issues to be a fatal disease with the consequences (or blessing…depending on if you’re one of those ‘glass is half full’ kind of people) being only a few more months to enjoy what remains of our lovely planet. Thanks to the medical community for all of their hard work and hours of university classes for not being able to figure that one out. We have pills that can make an old man’s dick hard but can’t tell the difference between Lupus and a mental disorder. Now of course, at the time, these weren’t the only issues plaguing our minds. There was the pleasure of some vehicular problems that began with tires and ended nine separate parts later. There was also the tsunami in Japan and the ever growing threat of radiation poisoning that could possibly reach our family on the west coast from a few nuclear reactors gone crazy in the Pacific. Is it 2012 yet? Can I go now? I have a hall pass…
The last straw came when my first roommate after my divorce left this world and our hearts for greener carpets. His name was Gram and he was a ferret.(named as in Possession of a controlled substance, penalty group one, less than one gram…don’t ask me…my wife’s ex husband probably named him and he’s very knowledgeable in the way’s of the gram. Neat guy. If you subscribe to the local newspaper…you’re helping pay his salary. Thank you for supporting your local drug traffickers) For ten years (three past his life expectancy) he hopped around, played with us, killed our Love Bird, brought us joy, endured cancer, left little ‘gram mines’ on the carpets, terrorized our cats, but most importantly…made us laugh and smile more than most human beings we know. After two weeks of being surrounded by nearly self inflicted death, accidental death, and looming death…I chose to cause death in the eyes of suffering. Now you may be asking yourself right about now…”Chad…you’ve been investigating the paranormal for seven years now…doesn’t that make you a little ‘preoccupied’ with death?” Yes, I answer you…yes it does…but at my discretion. I have the ability to choose when and where to surround myself with it and when to shake it off of my shoulders. When it’s forced upon you though, I believe that your shoulder’s are only so broad and some well deserved light needs to peek in ever so slightly through the darkness to remind you that life is precious. With war and natural disasters running amok on the face of the planet…I’m glad I still have my friend, I wish that I could comfort an aching mother by bringing her daughter back, I wish that our friend’s disease could’ve been treated properly in a phase that could’ve prolonged her life, and I wish that I was still accidentally stepping in tiny piles of ferret crap that I couldn’t detect in the middle of the night because the cute little guy took pride in strategically placing them just outside of my bedroom door. If ever I needed any dark influence to finish writing the ‘A Taste of Home’ sequel…I think I have it. I know this rant is all over the place and nowhere near the best one I’ve ever written…but I needed an outlet for a few minutes to get some things ejected from my soul. Did it work? Not at all. I need a hug…or a wall to punch holes in…whichever I come in contact with first. Don’t worry, honey, I promise I won’t confuse the two. Summing it all up…Screw people that hate other’s because they’re different…screw the state government for not upping the driver’s license age…screw doctors that look for an easy way out and prescribe medications because they get a cut back from pharmaceutical companies…screw automobile companies for being greedy bastards…screw Japanese engineers for killing our environment and placing deadly sources of energy on the banks of the most powerful and unpredictable force that resides on our planet aka the ocean…and screw pet store’s for selling cute little pieces of joy. Now, I'm sure it's plain to see why I waited so long to post this rant. It takes quite a while to accomplish this much 'screwing'...not to mention the chaffing that accompanies it. Until next time...spread light to all you find in darkness. You never know when the person found hiding there is someone you love or care about.
I hesitated repeatedly this week in writing a rant because I couldn’t quite put my finger on a subject. There were way too many to choose from. This has been one of the worst couple of weeks for my lovely wife and me in recent memory and, in just the period of those few days, I gained enough rant material to last for the next six months easily. Why focus on the negative though? Why let this stuff fester and build inside of me? Negativity begets negativity. It’s true on the physical plane as well as the mental. If you don’t believe me…check out The Secret. Does it work? Who knows…but the ones that initiated it into society are now multi billionaires and there’s nothing at all negative about that. To surprise the few that have adopted it’s principals without fully researching it…welcome to the world of witchcraft! Positive reinforcement and mental visualization to effect change on the physical level has been an every day practice in the Pagan belief system since the dawn of mankind! Gotta love marketing. I dare you to run off and tell your preacher that 'The Secret' works for you! Please tell me when you do so I can be present to watch him burn you at the stake!
The negative streak of no return started a couple of weeks ago when a friend of mine attempted to take her own life and was nearly successful. Before this…I had always preached to the masses that would listen about being the master of your own destiny and how people should be allowed to end it all if they so chose to. It’s your life, right? Shouldn’t you be able to do with it as you will as long as it doesn’t hurt anyone else in the process? It’s funny how your belief system seems to break down in the face of someone you care about personally and I was very glad that a well timed friend intervened at the last minute and saved her life. This all occurred because she chooses to live a different lifestyle and views the world around her through alternative eyes compared to the local population. I guess there is only so much you can take and only so trapped you can feel before you begin searching for a quick escape from the persecution. Damn you, bullies of the world, for not only refusing to think outside of your meager boxes, but for stabbing every other box in the heart that lands nearest your perimeter. In our house are many boxes...and her’s is now safely hidden within it. You failed.
On the opposite side of the spectrum of popularity, another friend’s sixteen year old daughter was ejected from her vehicle after rolling over nearly a dozen times and was taken from our lives before she was ever allowed to recognize her potential or leave her mark upon this unforgiving world. She was heavily accepted by most, was a cheerleader, and played for her high school soft ball team…or at least that’s what the television news reported. Obviously, death knows no social boundaries but the media feeds off of them like sharks at a beachside Tampax commercial filming. Not that my ‘unpopular to the power’s that be’ friend would’ve accepted any media attention for her life being saved…but she was never offered. Don’t drink…don’t smoke…don’t do drugs…eat right…be heterosexual…go to church every Sunday…and die anyway. The angel of death cares not…but Fox News will love you for it. Where does it all end and who can you really trust? Your family? Definitely not. Your friends? Sometimes. The doctor? Hell no! Riding on the heels of the second weekly tragedy came a phone call from one of my wife’s life long friends that informed us she’d been misdiagnosed her entire life by doctors convincing her that she was a walking mental issue with a person wrapped around it and had now discovered the cause of her issues to be a fatal disease with the consequences (or blessing…depending on if you’re one of those ‘glass is half full’ kind of people) being only a few more months to enjoy what remains of our lovely planet. Thanks to the medical community for all of their hard work and hours of university classes for not being able to figure that one out. We have pills that can make an old man’s dick hard but can’t tell the difference between Lupus and a mental disorder. Now of course, at the time, these weren’t the only issues plaguing our minds. There was the pleasure of some vehicular problems that began with tires and ended nine separate parts later. There was also the tsunami in Japan and the ever growing threat of radiation poisoning that could possibly reach our family on the west coast from a few nuclear reactors gone crazy in the Pacific. Is it 2012 yet? Can I go now? I have a hall pass…
The last straw came when my first roommate after my divorce left this world and our hearts for greener carpets. His name was Gram and he was a ferret.(named as in Possession of a controlled substance, penalty group one, less than one gram…don’t ask me…my wife’s ex husband probably named him and he’s very knowledgeable in the way’s of the gram. Neat guy. If you subscribe to the local newspaper…you’re helping pay his salary. Thank you for supporting your local drug traffickers) For ten years (three past his life expectancy) he hopped around, played with us, killed our Love Bird, brought us joy, endured cancer, left little ‘gram mines’ on the carpets, terrorized our cats, but most importantly…made us laugh and smile more than most human beings we know. After two weeks of being surrounded by nearly self inflicted death, accidental death, and looming death…I chose to cause death in the eyes of suffering. Now you may be asking yourself right about now…”Chad…you’ve been investigating the paranormal for seven years now…doesn’t that make you a little ‘preoccupied’ with death?” Yes, I answer you…yes it does…but at my discretion. I have the ability to choose when and where to surround myself with it and when to shake it off of my shoulders. When it’s forced upon you though, I believe that your shoulder’s are only so broad and some well deserved light needs to peek in ever so slightly through the darkness to remind you that life is precious. With war and natural disasters running amok on the face of the planet…I’m glad I still have my friend, I wish that I could comfort an aching mother by bringing her daughter back, I wish that our friend’s disease could’ve been treated properly in a phase that could’ve prolonged her life, and I wish that I was still accidentally stepping in tiny piles of ferret crap that I couldn’t detect in the middle of the night because the cute little guy took pride in strategically placing them just outside of my bedroom door. If ever I needed any dark influence to finish writing the ‘A Taste of Home’ sequel…I think I have it. I know this rant is all over the place and nowhere near the best one I’ve ever written…but I needed an outlet for a few minutes to get some things ejected from my soul. Did it work? Not at all. I need a hug…or a wall to punch holes in…whichever I come in contact with first. Don’t worry, honey, I promise I won’t confuse the two. Summing it all up…Screw people that hate other’s because they’re different…screw the state government for not upping the driver’s license age…screw doctors that look for an easy way out and prescribe medications because they get a cut back from pharmaceutical companies…screw automobile companies for being greedy bastards…screw Japanese engineers for killing our environment and placing deadly sources of energy on the banks of the most powerful and unpredictable force that resides on our planet aka the ocean…and screw pet store’s for selling cute little pieces of joy. Now, I'm sure it's plain to see why I waited so long to post this rant. It takes quite a while to accomplish this much 'screwing'...not to mention the chaffing that accompanies it. Until next time...spread light to all you find in darkness. You never know when the person found hiding there is someone you love or care about.
Friday, March 11, 2011
Tell Bruce Willis That He’s On In Five Minutes…And Get Aerosmith To Write The Soundtrack
Tell Bruce Willis That He’s On In Five Minutes…And Get Aerosmith To Write The Soundtrack:
Ladies and Gentlemen of the world and children of all ages…welcome to the circus that we call Earth! Boy…the media has really stirred up a good one this time! Hitch hiking on the heels of everyone’s X-files wet dream of the world coming to an abrupt end in the year 2012…it would appear that the moon is going to be closer to our glorious planet than it has in almost twenty years and, this time, it’s going to be a full one! According to astrologers…this could increase seismic activity as well as volcanic and oceanic tragedies. Of course, the earthquake in Japan that caused the big waves to swing through the Pacific didn’t help things much either. Right now, people are shaking in their sandals on the West Coast of the United States according to our beloved new programs. I beg to differ. I used to live in California. The reality of it is that there are hundreds of stoned surfers in Santa Monica waiting for them to hit! Now why, you may be asking yourself, isn’t Chad Miller scared to death about the happenings all over the world and the possibilities of it getting worse? First of all…astrology is a theoretically based science…just like paranormal investigation. In the past seven years, I have yet to blow the minds of the scientific community so I’m not going to let a lot of guys who spend their lives looking at the stars with permanent cricks in their necks dazzle me with their theories of things that could possibly happen on the surface of our planet. Second, the recorded and proven rises in activity regarding seismic, oceanic, and volcanic activity during full moons is a whopping 1% and that’s not quite enough to convince me that it’s time to start carrying around a spare pair of boxer shorts…just in case the devastation becomes so horrible that you accidentally soil a pair. Third, and the most important part that everyone seems to be overlooking, is that the media keeps repeatedly using the word ‘recorded’ when they speak of earthquakes. It’s the 5th most powerful earthquake in ‘recorded’ history. We’ve only been ‘recording’ these events for the past one hundred years and, whether or not you subscribe to the scientific findings of the world being billions of years old…or the church’s faith that it’s only about four thousand, one hundred years is only a drop in the bucket compared to the grand scheme of things. So, if interpreted correctly, these events are only the worst to happen to the world in a hundred years! Now…feels a little insignificant…doesn’t it? Anyone remember Pompeii? Finally, you have to take into account that these types of events have been happening all over our beloved Mother Earth since the first day the sun rose upon its beloved surface. The only difference between then and now is that we have only just recently invented the technology to measure, record, and communicate with the rest of the world instantly these so called ‘recent’ findings. Now, before you reply to this and start calling me up about being cold hearted and put yourself under the false impression that I’m trying to lessen the devastation and loss of human life along the Japanese coast, please understand that this rant is not intended to do that. I feel nothing but sadness for the families that lost loved ones during this event. What you have to keep in mind is the fact that the Earth is a living thing regardless of how our governments and big businesses insist on treating it like it’s just some rock floating out in space. Comparing her to a dog, which is only used for the purposes of this example, she will just shake us off like fleas when she is damned good and ready. If you don’t believe me…ask the dinosaurs. She got pissed off one day, tired of them leaving large piles of dino-crap all over her beautiful face, and paid a rogue comet fifty bucks to take care of them. Comets…the do-anything-for-money crack heads of the universe! If we keep drilling in her skin, ruining her oceans, and polluting her air…we’re next. She’s giving us subtle hints here and there that she is beginning to get a little irritated with us…but the majority of the population just chooses to overlook it. Now, keep in mind that I’m just philosophizing…which is the same thing that the astrologers and Armageddon fanatics are doing…and the choice is completely up to you on whether or not you carry around that extra pair of underwear we discussed earlier. If push comes to shove, my wife just got a really awesome camera and would be willing to take all of our photographs as we either burn, drown, or fall to our deaths inside of giant cracks forming suddenly underneath our feet. Wallet size will cost extra, though. Maybe it might not be a bad idea to ask Bruce Willis to keep his cell phone handy (and his emergency tightie-whities) just in case. Fleas have to be prepared!
Ladies and Gentlemen of the world and children of all ages…welcome to the circus that we call Earth! Boy…the media has really stirred up a good one this time! Hitch hiking on the heels of everyone’s X-files wet dream of the world coming to an abrupt end in the year 2012…it would appear that the moon is going to be closer to our glorious planet than it has in almost twenty years and, this time, it’s going to be a full one! According to astrologers…this could increase seismic activity as well as volcanic and oceanic tragedies. Of course, the earthquake in Japan that caused the big waves to swing through the Pacific didn’t help things much either. Right now, people are shaking in their sandals on the West Coast of the United States according to our beloved new programs. I beg to differ. I used to live in California. The reality of it is that there are hundreds of stoned surfers in Santa Monica waiting for them to hit! Now why, you may be asking yourself, isn’t Chad Miller scared to death about the happenings all over the world and the possibilities of it getting worse? First of all…astrology is a theoretically based science…just like paranormal investigation. In the past seven years, I have yet to blow the minds of the scientific community so I’m not going to let a lot of guys who spend their lives looking at the stars with permanent cricks in their necks dazzle me with their theories of things that could possibly happen on the surface of our planet. Second, the recorded and proven rises in activity regarding seismic, oceanic, and volcanic activity during full moons is a whopping 1% and that’s not quite enough to convince me that it’s time to start carrying around a spare pair of boxer shorts…just in case the devastation becomes so horrible that you accidentally soil a pair. Third, and the most important part that everyone seems to be overlooking, is that the media keeps repeatedly using the word ‘recorded’ when they speak of earthquakes. It’s the 5th most powerful earthquake in ‘recorded’ history. We’ve only been ‘recording’ these events for the past one hundred years and, whether or not you subscribe to the scientific findings of the world being billions of years old…or the church’s faith that it’s only about four thousand, one hundred years is only a drop in the bucket compared to the grand scheme of things. So, if interpreted correctly, these events are only the worst to happen to the world in a hundred years! Now…feels a little insignificant…doesn’t it? Anyone remember Pompeii? Finally, you have to take into account that these types of events have been happening all over our beloved Mother Earth since the first day the sun rose upon its beloved surface. The only difference between then and now is that we have only just recently invented the technology to measure, record, and communicate with the rest of the world instantly these so called ‘recent’ findings. Now, before you reply to this and start calling me up about being cold hearted and put yourself under the false impression that I’m trying to lessen the devastation and loss of human life along the Japanese coast, please understand that this rant is not intended to do that. I feel nothing but sadness for the families that lost loved ones during this event. What you have to keep in mind is the fact that the Earth is a living thing regardless of how our governments and big businesses insist on treating it like it’s just some rock floating out in space. Comparing her to a dog, which is only used for the purposes of this example, she will just shake us off like fleas when she is damned good and ready. If you don’t believe me…ask the dinosaurs. She got pissed off one day, tired of them leaving large piles of dino-crap all over her beautiful face, and paid a rogue comet fifty bucks to take care of them. Comets…the do-anything-for-money crack heads of the universe! If we keep drilling in her skin, ruining her oceans, and polluting her air…we’re next. She’s giving us subtle hints here and there that she is beginning to get a little irritated with us…but the majority of the population just chooses to overlook it. Now, keep in mind that I’m just philosophizing…which is the same thing that the astrologers and Armageddon fanatics are doing…and the choice is completely up to you on whether or not you carry around that extra pair of underwear we discussed earlier. If push comes to shove, my wife just got a really awesome camera and would be willing to take all of our photographs as we either burn, drown, or fall to our deaths inside of giant cracks forming suddenly underneath our feet. Wallet size will cost extra, though. Maybe it might not be a bad idea to ask Bruce Willis to keep his cell phone handy (and his emergency tightie-whities) just in case. Fleas have to be prepared!
Saturday, March 5, 2011
A Trip Down The Tattered Dirt Road That Is...High School Memory Lane
A trip down the tattered dirt road that is…high school memory lane:
High School. Enough said. Sure I could talk forever about how I barely made it out alive with my Billy Ray Cirus mullet and ripped blue jeans…or even be as dark to go into detail about the teacher, now a principal, that used to have sex with one of my friends when she’d baby sit his children…but who said that all rants have to be negative? Today…I went on a scavenger hunt with my middle daughter, the high school cheerleader, to come up with an awards plate for her senior sponsor at the GHS Cheer Banquet. As we were running around like decapitated chickens, trying to find certain little tokens of appreciation that would best describe her mentor, I came in contact with a girl I graduated with that was a cheerleader from my 8th grade year until graduation. She seemed like she was happy to see me and talked up a storm as though we have never spoken before. In all actuality…we hadn’t. Save for a few stray sentences here and there while growing up just for the sake of basic communication, we barely acknowledged each other’s presence back then. She was one of the girl’s that ran with that typical ‘cheer’ crowd while I was the long haired, metal head that cared nothing more for scholastic achievement other than the location of a great place to smoke during classes and not get caught. As I smiled graciously during our reunion, attempting desperately in my mind to figure out why in the world this girl was recognizing my presence after decades of silence, I bid farewell to our meeting and began to walk away. Suddenly, she mentioned my newest book and stated that she had heard good things about it. Bingo. My quickest, most accurate retort was as follows: “Yeah…who would’ve thought that I would be writing books?” Expecting a gentle laugh from the ecstatic young lady, I slowly turned away once more to go about my business. Again, the barely familiar voice came from behind me exhibiting two words that I had purposely erased from my memory, or repressed them via teenage trauma, that sent me reeling to this very moment. ‘Mrs. Feezil’. Feezil? She was my freshman English teacher that had me convinced I was the anti-Christ! She never had anything nice to say about me, my beautiful hair, my faded blue jean jacket that proudly displayed the cover of Def Leppard’s Pyromania album, or my talents…or lack thereof… as a writer! Was it all a front? Did she indeed recognize my talents back then under the false impression that sending me to the principal every other week would jar something loose and turn me into who I am today? My only regret is that her tactics didn’t have the effect she had intended and my dreams of becoming an author didn’t come to be until I was in my early thirties. Thinking on it honestly though…I’m glad she failed. Without the hard life I’ve lived and the horrific nightmares of my military career…not to mention the heartache of two divorces and the joy of being a father…I would never have gained a life full of emotional extremes that I pour into my writing. If I would’ve given up on the rock n roll lifestyle…I would’ve never been introduced to Guns N Roses and never discovered the writing of Del James (Axl Rose’s roommate, the influence for the November Rain video, and the author that wrote the introduction to my second novel ‘We Believe You’) which influenced me to begin writing in the first place. As the night progressed and I arrived at the cheer banquet, still thinking of former English teaching nemesis, may she rest in peace, I was approached and spoken to by a few other’s that also had a tendency to shun me in my high school days due to my choice of lifestyle and failure to adapt to theirs. Now…no one said that they lined up to shake my hand vigorously and accept me into the ‘Kool Kid’s Klub’ (funny…the KKK. Isn’t it ironic…don’t you think?) but I accomplished something in my life that is worthy of recognition other than the tragedies I previously thought were destined to be such as prison or dead in a ditch. With my fifteen minutes of fame brushed aside, I finally focused on the events of the evening at hand that meant the most. As I watched my gorgeous daughter walk across the stage to present her award to the mentor that both drove and pampered her all year, I realized that children who don’t strive to be like their parents isn’t such a bad thing. I think of all the missed opportunities growing up due to my pride as a young hoodlum and thank the powers-that-be graciously for allowing them to be a lot smarter than I was. They strive to be the best they can be and now are the cheerleaders and sports stars that I avoided like the plague in my youth. There’s been so much attention in the media lately paid to hazing and bullying with celebrities and other public figures suggesting that it all needs to come to an end. In reality, it’s a crossroads. You can choose to let it all get to you, buckle under the pressure, and even take your own life as a result…or you can take those experiences, remain who you really are without conforming, and use those experiences to mold your life into something successful that will one day make them all remember who you were and how they treated you…turning those individuals into better people as a result. Yes, as I said before, not all rants and emotional outlets have to be of a negative nature. Sometimes they can teach a valuable lesson and give glimpses of hope to those that seek it desperately. Just so I don’t step out of character and confuse some of you though…I was the only person there representing the class of 1992 that still exhibited a head full of beautiful, flowing hair…Take that bullies! Enjoy your baldness!
High School. Enough said. Sure I could talk forever about how I barely made it out alive with my Billy Ray Cirus mullet and ripped blue jeans…or even be as dark to go into detail about the teacher, now a principal, that used to have sex with one of my friends when she’d baby sit his children…but who said that all rants have to be negative? Today…I went on a scavenger hunt with my middle daughter, the high school cheerleader, to come up with an awards plate for her senior sponsor at the GHS Cheer Banquet. As we were running around like decapitated chickens, trying to find certain little tokens of appreciation that would best describe her mentor, I came in contact with a girl I graduated with that was a cheerleader from my 8th grade year until graduation. She seemed like she was happy to see me and talked up a storm as though we have never spoken before. In all actuality…we hadn’t. Save for a few stray sentences here and there while growing up just for the sake of basic communication, we barely acknowledged each other’s presence back then. She was one of the girl’s that ran with that typical ‘cheer’ crowd while I was the long haired, metal head that cared nothing more for scholastic achievement other than the location of a great place to smoke during classes and not get caught. As I smiled graciously during our reunion, attempting desperately in my mind to figure out why in the world this girl was recognizing my presence after decades of silence, I bid farewell to our meeting and began to walk away. Suddenly, she mentioned my newest book and stated that she had heard good things about it. Bingo. My quickest, most accurate retort was as follows: “Yeah…who would’ve thought that I would be writing books?” Expecting a gentle laugh from the ecstatic young lady, I slowly turned away once more to go about my business. Again, the barely familiar voice came from behind me exhibiting two words that I had purposely erased from my memory, or repressed them via teenage trauma, that sent me reeling to this very moment. ‘Mrs. Feezil’. Feezil? She was my freshman English teacher that had me convinced I was the anti-Christ! She never had anything nice to say about me, my beautiful hair, my faded blue jean jacket that proudly displayed the cover of Def Leppard’s Pyromania album, or my talents…or lack thereof… as a writer! Was it all a front? Did she indeed recognize my talents back then under the false impression that sending me to the principal every other week would jar something loose and turn me into who I am today? My only regret is that her tactics didn’t have the effect she had intended and my dreams of becoming an author didn’t come to be until I was in my early thirties. Thinking on it honestly though…I’m glad she failed. Without the hard life I’ve lived and the horrific nightmares of my military career…not to mention the heartache of two divorces and the joy of being a father…I would never have gained a life full of emotional extremes that I pour into my writing. If I would’ve given up on the rock n roll lifestyle…I would’ve never been introduced to Guns N Roses and never discovered the writing of Del James (Axl Rose’s roommate, the influence for the November Rain video, and the author that wrote the introduction to my second novel ‘We Believe You’) which influenced me to begin writing in the first place. As the night progressed and I arrived at the cheer banquet, still thinking of former English teaching nemesis, may she rest in peace, I was approached and spoken to by a few other’s that also had a tendency to shun me in my high school days due to my choice of lifestyle and failure to adapt to theirs. Now…no one said that they lined up to shake my hand vigorously and accept me into the ‘Kool Kid’s Klub’ (funny…the KKK. Isn’t it ironic…don’t you think?) but I accomplished something in my life that is worthy of recognition other than the tragedies I previously thought were destined to be such as prison or dead in a ditch. With my fifteen minutes of fame brushed aside, I finally focused on the events of the evening at hand that meant the most. As I watched my gorgeous daughter walk across the stage to present her award to the mentor that both drove and pampered her all year, I realized that children who don’t strive to be like their parents isn’t such a bad thing. I think of all the missed opportunities growing up due to my pride as a young hoodlum and thank the powers-that-be graciously for allowing them to be a lot smarter than I was. They strive to be the best they can be and now are the cheerleaders and sports stars that I avoided like the plague in my youth. There’s been so much attention in the media lately paid to hazing and bullying with celebrities and other public figures suggesting that it all needs to come to an end. In reality, it’s a crossroads. You can choose to let it all get to you, buckle under the pressure, and even take your own life as a result…or you can take those experiences, remain who you really are without conforming, and use those experiences to mold your life into something successful that will one day make them all remember who you were and how they treated you…turning those individuals into better people as a result. Yes, as I said before, not all rants and emotional outlets have to be of a negative nature. Sometimes they can teach a valuable lesson and give glimpses of hope to those that seek it desperately. Just so I don’t step out of character and confuse some of you though…I was the only person there representing the class of 1992 that still exhibited a head full of beautiful, flowing hair…Take that bullies! Enjoy your baldness!
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