My memory is my identity: the reason I identify myself as Bryan Ray is that I awoke with Bryan Ray’s memories. And memory is like the text of a play: my consciousness, my self in the present, is informed that its body—which I am to call my body—did such-and-such in the past: and I am expected to continue behaving along the same lines. Possessing a memory is like being assigned a role to act. Every day, I am handed the same role. It makes me mad.
What is my “self”—what am “I”—befo
When youngsters are silent for long, their parents exclaim: “The children are too quiet—something must be wrong.” The assumption is that the kids are probably getting into trouble. With the same inflection, I note that God is very quiet today. I’m sure that some sage once put forward the idea that God prefers to be ignored.
Is God ignorable by intention? Are we ignoring God or is God ignoring us? (Already I am assuming that we are not God.) It’s hard to tell, because G
A journalist asked an author to respond to a survey. This made me jealous, so I stole the questionnaire and gave my own answers:
As a writer, who’s in the conversation with you, living or dead?
No one. I’m trying to talk with a lot of dead people, but nobody’s listening. Or at least nobody’s answering. (A conversation requires at least two people.) It’s like a holiday feast where all of the adults are seated at a large table, eating and socializing; and I’m a c
The art of focused marketing to a target audience is a mystery to me. I wish that I could get some wealthy investor to risk a boatload of money to promote these two exhibits: A & B. My ad campaign could simply repeat to the general public: “This stuff is great! This stuff is great!” And that would do the trick—it always has. Why does it work? I wish I understood.
I suppose that the majority of people allow themselves to be guided by familiarity. If a choice is fami
Every Sunday, I will dispose of yet another religious-themed entry from my weblog’s holding tank, until they’re all used up. For more details about this, and a chance to win a free cheeseburger, see the intro to last Sunday’s entry. I am joking about the cheeseburger.
I’ve long been puzzled about this: Christianity is a group. By calling oneself a Christian, one declares one’s membership to that group. However, when the group takes any particular stance, although some of its individual member
Back in the days when I was a factory worker, if I did not stay awake all night after my shift, I would fall asleep at three in the morning and awake sometime past noon. Now that I am a hack, I fall asleep at twenty-two of the clock and then rise at five. Or, more accurately: I awake at half past two and think strange thoughts till five.
I like my new schedule: getting up before dawn makes me feel like I’m a burglar snooping around inside my own house. And, since the sun is not e
If I were to meet a genie who offered to grant all my wishes, what would I ask for?
I’m sure that I would initially draw a blank—like writer’s block, I’d experience wisher’s block—because I would not want to reveal the shallowness of my desires by asking for something materialistic like a new car.
Plus, when I wish for a new car, I instantly think: Why didn’t I ask for a luxury pontoon? Because that’s obviously a much more stylish way to travel. Fortunately,
Dear diary, today I will share a roundup and a bonus Q&A. But first, just look at this image:
Here are some warbles from my Loplop (as opposed to his Loplop): I wish that more people would ask me if I have ever been to jail. It saddens me to see a balloon devoid of helium. I hate Truth and God because I cannot stop caring about them like family. How curious that this planet still has nations. Regarding: “Would you rather be smart or funny?”—The two are one: Ever
I will get all emotional about my recent, last, successful escape from The Facebook, after I share this picture of me trying to do a push-up.
I once watched a film about jail: a group of cellmates attempted to escape, but the guards caught them and threw them back inside. This happened time and again: the cellmates began to think that escape was impossible. But one heroic, dignified cellmate delivered an impassioned speech to the others: “Let us never give up! Let u
I look around and see many busy people. Each one has a job to do. Nobody has any spare time for lounging. Therefore I assume that everyone is very important.
I reflect on the fact that multiple generations have passed; and the people of those previous generations might have seemed important, just like today’s generation. Yet everyone from those previous generations eventually died, and the world did not come to a halt; so, maybe people are not as important as they seem
A little while ago, I vowed not to write any more religious-themed posts. But, when I made that vow, I still had a few religious posts left in my stack of posts that I had already written; and it seemed sad to let those finished posts remain unresurrected. So I had my attorney draw up an addendum as a sub vow to my main vow, which allows me to share my entire backlog of religious posts without needing a blood sacrifice to atone for the breach of covenant.
[All of the following text is
Dear God, the thesis of my sermon to you this evening is: Everything should be easy. But let’s get the image out of the way, and then I’ll unleash my profundities.
You’ve been born as a baby human, so you know that we humans do not need to craft our own body parts. It is thrilling to enter this world; but how tedious would it be to have to assemble yourself from scratch!—immediately after climbing out of the womb, you’d have to search for the correct ingredients to manufacture your fl
Dear diary, I will bookend this entry with associated images from a pad of religious stationary that I found at my mother’s house. In the beginning, I will share a proverb; and I’ll end with an epitaph.
The way that modern citizens engage in romantic relationships is backwards. Everyone does it exactly the same: First, you and your would-be spouse attempt to perform verbal intercourse. Only if that is successful do the two of you then marry and perform physic
Today’s entry consists of sleuthwork and sayings. The sleuthwork shall serve the purpose of explaining the entry’s obligatory image; and the sayings are either replete with or lacking in significance, depending on the judgment of the mind of their beholder.
Part 1: Sleuthwork
On the day of 04 July 2015 A.D., the street outside of my apartment was closed for a parade. Many local cults fashioned ornamental floats on flatbed vehicles, and their members stood and waved at the crowd
Today I feel like speaking on stuff that I don’t know about. How is that different from any other day? (HINT: It’s not.)
All of the sages, prophets, apostles, and magi of our world agree that there are exactly two topics which no one should ever discuss: religion and politics. Lately I’ve waxed eloquent on the former, which I know nothing about; so today I thought it would be fun to tackle the latter, which I know even less than nothing abou
I saw this “Editor’s Note” attached to a post on a movie website today: To help you get to know our writers better, we’ve asked them to respond to the following questionnaire.
Immediately I wished that I were one of that site’s writers, so I too could answer some questions. But then I realized that I could simply steal their questionnaire—so I’ll do that, after sharing this image…
1. Where did you grow up, and what was it like?
USA, in the southern
It is violently storming as I write this; and by “it” I mean the sky, the outdoors (as opposed to the interior of my apartment)—the same as when I asked you yesterday: “Is it supposed to storm tomorrow?” and you said “No.” Maybe you misunderstood what I meant by “it,” because it’s storming now; and you’ve never been wrong before.
Blog post 9
Dear diary, I wanted to tell you about Independence Day, so as to remain relevant as a spiritual pundit; because I heard fireworks just on
Dear diary, the title of this entry does not mean that I will propose to save the souls of grizzlies by sending them free copies of scripture; what it means is that, while letting my thoughts wander, I began obsessing about the Bible and ended with a brief reference to bears.
Why does this happen to me so often! Do I need to wear, at all times, a No Soliciting sign around my neck? It must be due to the fact that I live in the Midwe
For this entry’s obligatory image, I post a fleshy rectangle:
A bunch of (copy, paste) etc.
Now here is a bunch of a bunch of a bunch of a bunch of a bunch of a bunch of etc. copied and pasted from the bad place: I will program my adding machine to pray that the relevant aspects of string theory pull the strings in your favor. Just so you know. Baby tigers are cute. Baby elephants are cute. Baby jackals are cute. Baby birds are hideous. When I try to limit my words to a phr
Animals are sometimes born to animals, and sometimes those newborn animals grow into adults. It is possible that a monkey known as Son is born to a set of parents named Mom and Pop.
One of the things that Son monkey does not want is to end up like Pop, because Pop is a judgmental bigot. And Pop is also very bad at pinball. Son would rather act with compassion toward all the creatures of the world, while winning at parlor games.
What happens is that Son hugs every crow and bovi
People seem to use words in different ways. I wonder if there ever was a word that all people used in exactly the same way. I assume that some words have meanings. Maybe all words have the same meaning (this thought frightens me).
I wonder how many ways the word sanctity has been used. And then there is the word Christian. That is a word that I have heard people use in different ways. Some people label themselves Christians. I am a Christian, they say.
Dear diary, I don’t mind pedaling hard when biking uphill. – That’s a lie: I hate engaging in any physical effort, even if it’s the act of lifting a pen; so please take charge and compose this entry for me.
You will flood the rest of this notebook page with words, after I share these flowers that I plucked from a birthday balloon:
Oops, that was a picture of wigs on a cross – a still frame from Luis Buñuel’s L’Âge d’or. I like Wikipedia’s a
This post’s obligatory image is a picture that I found in a dictionary; therefore, when saving it in the computer, I named its file “dicpic.”
On my bicycle this morning, I passed a house that had a large white truck parked in its driveway. This truck had the words “Wood Floor Installation” printed on the side of its trailer. It pleased me to be reminded that I can ride straight home and read a book instead of having to deal with contractors. Bryan Ray
What follows is the total number of bullets that I found inside of my presidential candidate. Just because my sweetheart’s pet name for me is “Sunshine Bear” doesn’t mean that I’m not a dangerous criminal. My addiction to English literature has become a problem. I can accept more love than you’re willing to give, so feel free to love me intensely. In hopes of attaining salvation, I gallop at full speed into the rendering plant. Online social networking is like saltwater to the thirst of l
During the part of the week that followed Tuesday and preceded Thursday, my guru Madame Suez spoke with me about spirituality. She expressed interest in the ideas from eastern Asia. After our talk, thoughts kept bounding around in my mind: I’ll type them onto this TV screen, dear diary, in hopes that it might help them rest in peace.
Presently in the USA, there is rampant interest in oriental practices. This smells like a fad to me. Yoga franchises are popping up every