Ball Lightning Tried To Kill Me In My Youth: A Questionable Recollection

Image by Joe Thomissen, from Wikipedia

Image by Joe Thomissen, from Wikipedia


I was just reading an article I randomly came across, discussing the phenomena of ball lightning. Suddenly, I had a flashback to a memory from when I was maybe seven, eight years old, playing outside in good ol’ Fruitland, New Mexico, and I saw a flash of what I now think was this ball lightening, maybe five or ten feet in front of me. TRIPPY… I remember it freaking me out at the time, and making me all tingly and whatnot.

I’m pretty sure this is a real memory that got knocked loose up there, and not some subconscious fabrication to pass the time. But, with my brain, “pretty sure” is probably 50% at best. I mean, I can’t even be certain that an awkward conversation I had a few days ago with some dude in a lab coat about the domes outside Phoenix was real or just a dream that I had, or just me talking to myself in my mind.

I have fun. 😉

Image courtesy of Weird U.S.

Image courtesy of Weird U.S.


© Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan, 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Ah, that’s beautiful… We got a lot of little teenage blue eyed groupies who do anything we say…

Title from Dr. Hook and the Medicine Show“The Cover of ‘Rolling Stone'”

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I want to start a one man “band” making loud, angry, destructive heavy music. This is going to be quite a process:

1.))) Dust off my guitar and start jamming.
2.))) Dust off Stacy’s old keyboard, and our Grandpa’s fucking bad-ass electric organ, and relearn how to rock out on keys.
3.))) Procure a drum set and start banging on shit, freaking out like Animal and generally annoying everybody into submission.
4.))) Soundproof the basement (just kidding, sister…)
5.))) Record a shitty demo, transfer it to tape, and hang out in front of record stores in a crust punk jacket begging for donations.
6.))) Talk to anyone who will listen about all my plans when we get our big break, man. We’ll be on tour overseas with Sleep and you’ll still be stuck here baking your fuckin’ homemade gluten free scones, bro…

All this seems very involved, so I better start slow and just focus on settling on a band name for now. Uterine Betrayal and Death Stench Creeps are both already taken…

the_ryan_princess_sash_band_patches

© Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan, 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

This is why nothing gets done.

I love how it takes me five hours to watch a one hour show because I think I recognize that guy and, wait let me Google movies that star a strong Latino barber, but hang on this Mountain Dew is empty and while I’m up we’re out of chips, so I better let the dogs out to pee, oh goddamnit someone vomited and, oh shit now someone else is about to vomit, but I was supposed to clean the bathroom today, and did I finish listening to that Buzzov*en album yet? LOOK, SQUIRREL! I need a nap.

Hey, look, a distraction…

© Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan, 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

…down on the floor, scratching for more…

Title from Fistula, “Smoke Cat Hair and Toenails”, from the album Vermin Prolificus

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Manic as fuck. This has been building. It’s a frantic race to nowhere. A deranged rat on a hamster wheel. The sedatives aren’t working (“I think I can handle my sedatives, bro…” -Charlie). Cyclical thought experiments. Running through my past transgressions. Recall, revisit, rewrite, restore. This is why the lines get blurred.

Suddenly, focus. Something intense, white hot, piercing, and its all that there is. It envelopes from the inside out, wraps tentacles, consuming. It is all that there is.

It is gone. And there is nothing. Less than nothing.

Fractured psyche, rearranged. The protective cover of scar tissue. Healing. Growth. Change…

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© Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan, 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

“In the someday, what’s that ‘S’ sound?”

Title taken from Nirvana, “I Hate Myself And Want To Die”

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I’ve read several posts of late stating September is Suicide Prevention and Awareness Month. I recently blew the mind of a mental health social worker by dropping the term “suicidal ideation” during a clinical assessment. He went on to coyly suggest that, as “suicidal ideation” is a term most people are apparently unfamiliar with, I had perhaps researched various mental illnesses in an effort to make myself seem more symptom-afflicted than I actually am. Fuck you.

I think about suicide nearly every day. Not always in the sense of serious contemplation of a final solution for myself, although the rare particularly bad period might have me going that far, mentally. Usually it is just the casual acknowledgement that suicide remains an option, a way out, as sort of a morbid and deranged comfort blanket. Usually, I just have the thought, and then shrug, and then move on with my day.

But, as someone who does display symptoms of suicidal ideation, and in the spirit of this time period apparently set aside for awareness of such, I will say that being unbiased and non-judgementally supportive of The Afflicted is about the best and only thing one can do to try and prevent potential suicide in a client, friend or loved one. Reducing the stigmas surrounding mental illness will go a long fucking way towards reducing the chances that a person in suffering will pursue a final solution to their pain. Showing support, empathy, kindness, and simply being “there” for a person is the best way to make them feel safe and secure, and to foster an environment wherein they may choose to open up and ask for help when they need it.

Beyond that, it really isn’t up to you. It isn’t up to anyone but the person who is suffering. We as damaged people must have the desire to seek a way out of our particular suffering. All the support and awareness in the world won’t save a person who is unwilling or unable to change. And, sad as it is to say, someone who is truly fixated on taking their end into their own hands will not be stopped. Those of us close to him saw the warning signs and interrupted several attempts, but in the end my “brother” Branden found the end he wanted.

Fuck, what a downer of a post, huh?! Maybe I should include a picture of something adorable, like a drunk monkey…

🍸🙊🍺🐒🍻

There ya go… 😉

For anyone who needs it, the website for the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention is https://www.afsp.org

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© Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan, 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Ten Stupid Things That Sound Intelligent and Profound (Or Do They?)

Or. Do. They? O.o

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1.))) Every experience in this life is a lesson. The most difficult moments hide the lessons we most resist learning.

2.))) The things that make us angry show us when we need to practice letting go. Typing that sentence is a million times easier than figuring out how to actually do it.

3.))) Expectations are the surest way to bring oneself meaningless suffering.

4.))) Everyone is wrong, all the time. Nobody knows what the fuck is going on. The more we resist our own basic ignorance, the further we are from true knowing.

5.))) Any statement can seem wise and profound, with the right measure of language and conviction.

6.))) A great way to relieve some of the pressures of the burden of existence is to remember you are just a mostly hairless monkey with delusions of grandeur and too much capacity for complex thought.

7.))) With all the complexities of the human mind, even the most intelligent and capable of us are still pretty fucking stupid and clueless most of the time.

8.))) For all the grandly evolved capabilities, ideals, achievements, responsibilities, and sense of self importance displayed by humankind, we are all at our core simply grasping blindly to find our place and our path in the accident of existence. You are not nearly as important as you think you are. Neither am I. Neither is anybody. There’s a sense of calm in that.

9.))) Talking has fuck all to do with getting shit done. Real motherfuckers get shit done.

10.))) Using profanity to illustrate a point is called “perfervidic expletivication” and releases the same chemicals in the brain as sex and heroin. I read it on the internet, so I know it’s true.

11.))) Fuck self-imposed limitations, in lists and in life!

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© Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan, 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Musings on a Wednesday: Randomness and Observations

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– There’s nothing like the smell of wet cow ass in the morning. It smells like…well, like wet cow ass.

– Must be a leak over my bunk when it rains heavy, because I slept in a wet spot that I am 98% sure I didn’t make. Okay….82% sure.

– Is it oxymoronic to despise someone you’ve just met and otherwise know nothing about, based solely on their apparent association with a hate group? I feel like it kind of is, but I also feel like I’m kind of okay with that.

I don’t have to know a KKK member to think they are a piece of shit.

— Lady Mary

– Getting paid to do a whole lot of nothing for eight hours and then being rained out for the last two make for an easy workday. But an easy workday is not necessarily a “good” workday. Because FUCKING BORING!

– Somebody should start a cell phone service marketed specifically to the oilfield and pipeline that gets decent service out in all these B.F.E. locations. Since it’s for the oilfield and pipeline, they could overcharge like crazy and motherfuckers will pay it. You could make MILLIONS.

– I often consider murder as a preferable alternative to finding ways to coexist with a deplorable person. Then I think, well, that isn’t very Buddhist of me. Then, I double check which direction the blade on my pocket knife unfolds, in case I need to open it quickly.

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– The worst thing about using a freshly-pumped portable shitter is having the chemical water splash back up from a “projectile” and coat your undercarriage with filth. Well…that’s maybe not the worst thing, but it’s up there…

– So many many things in this world piss me off. You may have noticed. But few things piss me off more than unsubstantiated arrogance and swagger. Perhaps it has something to do with the apparent “fact” that those who actually have something to be cocky about generally are conversely humble and gracious. The motherfuckers that strut and cackle usually don’t have shit to back it up. Usually.

I will not do what the tick tells me to…
… I will not do what the tick tells me to…
… I will not do what the tick tells me to…
…I will not…….

— The Ryan

– Some days, when a person or situation disrupts my delicate sensibilities to the extent that the Others take over before I can practice “letting go,” I end up in a downward spiraling snowball of scorn and loathing that grows to consume the entirety of my consciousness to the point that I can only see the destruction of all existence as a solution. I feel only hatred. I can no longer see through my own perspective and headspace to determine if this is simply a byproduct of my sickness, if my anger and sense of apocalyptic hatred is just and warranted, if anyone or anything even deserves to fucking live, to exist. I say lay waste to the wasted. Be done with it.

Fuck money, fuck friends, fuck family! Fuck pussy, fuck drugs, fuck sanity! I don’t give a shit! Why?! ‘Cuz ignorance is bliss! Right?!

— Flatbush ZOMBiES, “Bliss”

– Sometimes I like pie. But not apple pie. Unless it is green chile apple pie. Seriously, yo…that shit is bomb.

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– No matter who you are, no matter what it is…music fixes everything. At least until the song’s over. Then you might actually have to do something yourself to keep shit fixed. But, fuck that, right?! ;-D

One good thing about music, when it hits you, you feel no pain…

— Bob Marley

– The moment I am writing something, it is the most brilliant and insightful thing ever committed to paper. The moment after I write something, I despise it with the fury of one thousand suns. I feel like I am not alone in this.

– I am stuck at the crossing of what is essentially a different version of the same fucking train I spent forty minutes trapped by a couple of weeks ago. I know this because of the graffiti. Or because I only dreamt this before, and now the shit is happening for real. And I have no data connection.

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© Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan, 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

You’re gonna sit here…and you’re gonna LIKE it!

Having a mandatory company picnic is like holding people hostage with food as your weapon. Well, food and the threat of unemployment. Has anyone ever really lost their job for refusing to participate in mandated “leisure” time? The world is stupid enough that I am sure it has happened, but I won’t personally find out today. Not because I am choosing to stay at this obligatory gathering of my own volition, however. I mean, shit…I have to see these ugly fuckers for sixty hours a week as it is. But I couldn’t leave even if I wanted to. “Home” is over 90 miles away, and my “boss” is also my ride.

Mandatory fun time. Goddamnit all.

*sigh*

© Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan, 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Cessation of All

It has been this consistent thing of late where I see a living thing and recognizing that thing in its perpetual suffering and mortality depresses me in horrific existential crisis to my fragile core and all I want to see as a cure is the cessation of all existence.

© Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan, 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

It all works out in time (You may take my eyes, but baby I’m not blind…)

Title: Cage the Elephant, “Spiderhead” from the album Melophobia *

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Images by Christopher Ian MacFarlane

Perhaps one of the times my head explodes, these spiders will come pouring out. There will be casualties. The truly hardy ones will scatter on remaining legs to those dark corners of existence where few would think to find shelter. The ones who make it back before I finish reassembling my shattered skull will have stories weighty with wisdom they will refuse to tell. Because not everything in this life is meant to be shared.

I’m a man of my word, and that word is always regret…

…I’m trying to be the best man that I can,
Things don’t always work out in the end…

Godhunter & Amigo the Devil, “Weeping Willow” from the 7″ collaborative record The Outer Dark

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A spider lives inside my head
Who weaves a strange and wondrous web
Of silken threads and silver strings
To catch all sorts of flying things,
Like crumbs of thoughts and bits of smiles
And specks of dried-up tears,
And dust of dreams that catch and cling
For years and years and years…

Shel SilversteinEvery Thing on It

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* I absolutely ripped this device off from a fellow WordPress bleeder, the lovely and talented “Zeebam”. Her unique photography and poignantly emotive writings hit home in a certain way, like this piece here.

© Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan, 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Ryan Scott Sanders and Dharma and Belligerence: Mad Rants from a Free-Range Buddhist Hooligan with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.