Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Monday, December 29, 2008
Each person is just like us.
"All sentient beings are equal. Continually familiarizing our mind with this view deflates the judgmental, critical mind that loves to pick out faults in others... Such self-talk is based on superficial appearances and false assumptions, and it only serves to reinforce prejudice and make us feel alienated from others. If we train our mind to look deeper and to recognize that each person is just like us in wanting happiness and not wanting pain, then we will feel a common bond with everyone and will be able to wish everyone well equally...
Each moment of our life is a new one with the opportunity to experiment and do things differently."
- Thubten Chodron, Buddhism for Beginners
Each moment of our life is a new one with the opportunity to experiment and do things differently."
- Thubten Chodron, Buddhism for Beginners
Saturday, December 27, 2008
I am so effin' Buddhist, you guys!!
I am like WAAAAY more Buddhist than you. My ego is like, the SMALLEST! And I totally desire like, totally nothing. How about you? Do YOU desire nothing? Yeah, I didn't think so! I want nothing! Nada! Nope-o-rino!
Except this rock that I just bought. I did desire that rock.
Except this rock that I just bought. I did desire that rock.
Thursday, December 25, 2008
Burn baby burn, Christmas inferno!
I saw a man on fire today. Never seen that before, I gotta say. In fact, I saw him set himself on fire before he did, which meant that it was my job to let him know that he was on fire.
This is what I did to accomplish that:
OHMYFUCKINGGOD!
Yep. That was that. He leaned across the table and his hair grazed a candle. What happens to hair after it touches fire is that it stays on fire, and then it attempts to kill your face. I saw the hair begin to blaze, I yelled OHMYFUCKINGGOD, then people jumped across the room and someone put the fire out with a rather gentle, Three Stooges-style "hand pat".
If I could, I'd love to put this on YouTube, because it was quite fascinating. I just can't figure out how to get it onto the computer from my brain.
Someone else said they thought I screamed because I "saw a mouse or something." I said, "No, actually, when I scream like something is on fire, it's because something is fucking ON FIRE."
When I see a mouse, I go "Oh. Hey. It's a mouse." When something is on fire, I yell OHMYFUCKINGGODTHATTHINGISONFIRE!
Why? Because it works!
He was drinking Pepsi at the time. So the self-immolation was less of a Richard Pryor move, more Michael Jackson. I didn't even know that you could set yourself on fire if cocaine wasn't involved.
In addition, there were actual candles on an actual tree. And they didn't even cause the initial fire! Plus, there were convection-run brass angels that ring bells. It felt like being in the Nutcracker, like so:
It's a bit hard to tell, but those bright fluffy spots that look like electric lightbulbs are being made by organic candle-fire-machines!
Dare I say, Christmas was on fire? Whoo doggie!
Fire is pretty damn cool. Whoever invented it must be raking in the cash.
(We also had goose. Which means - yes - our goose was cooked. Rimshot!)
This is what I did to accomplish that:
OHMYFUCKINGGOD!
Yep. That was that. He leaned across the table and his hair grazed a candle. What happens to hair after it touches fire is that it stays on fire, and then it attempts to kill your face. I saw the hair begin to blaze, I yelled OHMYFUCKINGGOD, then people jumped across the room and someone put the fire out with a rather gentle, Three Stooges-style "hand pat".
If I could, I'd love to put this on YouTube, because it was quite fascinating. I just can't figure out how to get it onto the computer from my brain.
Someone else said they thought I screamed because I "saw a mouse or something." I said, "No, actually, when I scream like something is on fire, it's because something is fucking ON FIRE."
When I see a mouse, I go "Oh. Hey. It's a mouse." When something is on fire, I yell OHMYFUCKINGGODTHATTHINGISONFIRE!
Why? Because it works!
He was drinking Pepsi at the time. So the self-immolation was less of a Richard Pryor move, more Michael Jackson. I didn't even know that you could set yourself on fire if cocaine wasn't involved.
In addition, there were actual candles on an actual tree. And they didn't even cause the initial fire! Plus, there were convection-run brass angels that ring bells. It felt like being in the Nutcracker, like so:
It's a bit hard to tell, but those bright fluffy spots that look like electric lightbulbs are being made by organic candle-fire-machines!
Dare I say, Christmas was on fire? Whoo doggie!
Fire is pretty damn cool. Whoever invented it must be raking in the cash.
(We also had goose. Which means - yes - our goose was cooked. Rimshot!)
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
Merry Christmas! So there!
Whoo doggie, I got lots to say about Christmas! Us ex-Jehovah's Witnesses can go off about Christmas, let me tell you whosawhat's now!
Did you know that some Jehovah's Witnesses didn't celebrate Christmas, but would have "Non-denominational Gift Giving Day"? Then there were the Jehovah's Witnesses who were so proper that they even thought that was crossing the line.
Christmas gives lots of fodder for essays and stories - but it's all for another day. I'm not feelin' essayish. I'm just feeling honest. Joyful, even!
That's lame, right? I mean, to feel joyful on Christmas Eve? What the...? Is that even allowed outside of a card store? Do I need to be wrapped in thin, colorful paper and placed inside a musical bag?
(If you said yes, I tell you now that I am actually writing this from inside a musical bag. I'm one step ahead of you, ladies!)
The bottom line is this: Merry Christmas! You heard me! Merry Christmas! I love that. I love saying it. I love everything about the concept. I love that some people get offended by it. I love that some people are above it all. I think it's all just swell!
People try to act cool by saying how much they hate Christmas, how "commercial" it is. Blub Blub Blub! I hate Christmas! Yeah! The shopping malls! Commericals! Suburbia is like, retarded! Love is so played out! Blub Blub Blub I Have No Real Feelings Because I Am Scared Of Them Blubblublub!
To you I say simply this: Shut it, crankypants! You're not impressing anyone except yourself. The end.
If you were raised as a Jehovah's Witness, you would ADORE Christmas. ADORE IT! Why? Because you wouldn't be an asshole. Because you'd get what it means! It means: we love each other and we're gonna tell each other and then we're gonna eat cookies. There's nothing deeper than that! It's for kids. Now put a cookie in your big mouth and feel the love!
Christmas means you get a whole day off work or school just to unwrap gifts and hug each other and watch television. And, yes, when people buy things, they buy them with money. Get over it!
You hate Christmas? What-the-whatever, my friends. Go ahead and try to take away my smiles with your crankypants hippytime talk. Try it! You cannot! Cuz you know what? YOU CANNOT STOP THE JOYEUX! Ungh!
Here's a weird thing: I was invited to Midnight Mass tonight, by two different friends. It's not the kind of thing I've ever done before, but this year I was blessed to have two invitations from very kind and awesome people.
I don't "do" church. Sure, I go into churches, but I use them in my own way. I eschew any religion that involves one person standing behind a podium and speaking. More specifically, I will not worship in the same room with anyone wearing a costume. Robes of any color are distracting, and beyond that, they are musty and irritate my sinuses.
So, I'm intrigued to go tonight. I think I may have to stand and/or sit at some point. It's an adventure. I'll leave my judgment in a jar by the door along with my face and go listen to Father McKenzie's sermon.
I hope you feel loved today, lonely people. If not, then maybe next year will be better. Rent a movie and get some Chinese food. I've done that before, too. It's pretty cool, actually. Have fun doing that, if that's what you're doing.
Tomorrow I'll be chillin' with a cheese plate, tonight I'll be on an anthropological dig through Catholicism (ever hear of it? I heard they destroyed science!) I am blessed to know amazing people here in New York, but New York is just like that. And like I say, I've done the movie-rental thing too, and I'm no worse for wear that way.
This year, I am blessed. I am peaceful. I am joyous.
Joyeux Noel! Now someone get me out of this musical bag!
CHEER!
Did you know that some Jehovah's Witnesses didn't celebrate Christmas, but would have "Non-denominational Gift Giving Day"? Then there were the Jehovah's Witnesses who were so proper that they even thought that was crossing the line.
Christmas gives lots of fodder for essays and stories - but it's all for another day. I'm not feelin' essayish. I'm just feeling honest. Joyful, even!
That's lame, right? I mean, to feel joyful on Christmas Eve? What the...? Is that even allowed outside of a card store? Do I need to be wrapped in thin, colorful paper and placed inside a musical bag?
(If you said yes, I tell you now that I am actually writing this from inside a musical bag. I'm one step ahead of you, ladies!)
The bottom line is this: Merry Christmas! You heard me! Merry Christmas! I love that. I love saying it. I love everything about the concept. I love that some people get offended by it. I love that some people are above it all. I think it's all just swell!
People try to act cool by saying how much they hate Christmas, how "commercial" it is. Blub Blub Blub! I hate Christmas! Yeah! The shopping malls! Commericals! Suburbia is like, retarded! Love is so played out! Blub Blub Blub I Have No Real Feelings Because I Am Scared Of Them Blubblublub!
To you I say simply this: Shut it, crankypants! You're not impressing anyone except yourself. The end.
If you were raised as a Jehovah's Witness, you would ADORE Christmas. ADORE IT! Why? Because you wouldn't be an asshole. Because you'd get what it means! It means: we love each other and we're gonna tell each other and then we're gonna eat cookies. There's nothing deeper than that! It's for kids. Now put a cookie in your big mouth and feel the love!
Christmas means you get a whole day off work or school just to unwrap gifts and hug each other and watch television. And, yes, when people buy things, they buy them with money. Get over it!
You hate Christmas? What-the-whatever, my friends. Go ahead and try to take away my smiles with your crankypants hippytime talk. Try it! You cannot! Cuz you know what? YOU CANNOT STOP THE JOYEUX! Ungh!
Here's a weird thing: I was invited to Midnight Mass tonight, by two different friends. It's not the kind of thing I've ever done before, but this year I was blessed to have two invitations from very kind and awesome people.
I don't "do" church. Sure, I go into churches, but I use them in my own way. I eschew any religion that involves one person standing behind a podium and speaking. More specifically, I will not worship in the same room with anyone wearing a costume. Robes of any color are distracting, and beyond that, they are musty and irritate my sinuses.
So, I'm intrigued to go tonight. I think I may have to stand and/or sit at some point. It's an adventure. I'll leave my judgment in a jar by the door along with my face and go listen to Father McKenzie's sermon.
I hope you feel loved today, lonely people. If not, then maybe next year will be better. Rent a movie and get some Chinese food. I've done that before, too. It's pretty cool, actually. Have fun doing that, if that's what you're doing.
Tomorrow I'll be chillin' with a cheese plate, tonight I'll be on an anthropological dig through Catholicism (ever hear of it? I heard they destroyed science!) I am blessed to know amazing people here in New York, but New York is just like that. And like I say, I've done the movie-rental thing too, and I'm no worse for wear that way.
This year, I am blessed. I am peaceful. I am joyous.
Joyeux Noel! Now someone get me out of this musical bag!
CHEER!
Please BEAR with us during our remodeling!
Exciting things are afoot! Posts are moving all over the place, and then the header for the whole page up and changed and everything! What's all this, then?
Perhaps the transition from "random blog" to "book website" has been confusing. I know it has been for me, anyway. In the interest of ending confusion, I am currently in the process of redesigning, reconsidering, and revamping.
In a nutshell, this means: More stuff about my book. Less stuff about not my book.
A friend and I decided tonight that the question when blogging is: Who is this for?
A good question, indeed. If you're a "blogger" (um, ick?) like me, you may have to think on it for a while.
When is art a "hard-hitting truth" and when is it just confusing and negative? How much distance is needed to write good poetry? Is photography ever self-explanatory? When is an explanation ruined by being explained?
Most of all, when should a poem remain unwritten, or, barring that, be immediately ripped up and thrown away? Is it ever possible to truly rid yourself of poetry without writing it and showing it to people first?
Can you get to the good art without embarrassing yourself with all the bad art first?
I'll figure that out eventually. But not tonight. Tonight, I've gotten this far. That's far enough.
So, I hope the website and blog will be easier to navigate and more user-friendly moving forward.
More book-oriented, as they say.
I apologize if you have already been mauled by a grizzly. I thought he was friendly, but apparently, he was just a bear. I will buy you new eyes and pay for the medical 'copter. Just scoot over and leave a seat for me, because I think I got nicked by a claw, myself.
Perhaps the transition from "random blog" to "book website" has been confusing. I know it has been for me, anyway. In the interest of ending confusion, I am currently in the process of redesigning, reconsidering, and revamping.
In a nutshell, this means: More stuff about my book. Less stuff about not my book.
A friend and I decided tonight that the question when blogging is: Who is this for?
A good question, indeed. If you're a "blogger" (um, ick?) like me, you may have to think on it for a while.
When is art a "hard-hitting truth" and when is it just confusing and negative? How much distance is needed to write good poetry? Is photography ever self-explanatory? When is an explanation ruined by being explained?
Most of all, when should a poem remain unwritten, or, barring that, be immediately ripped up and thrown away? Is it ever possible to truly rid yourself of poetry without writing it and showing it to people first?
Can you get to the good art without embarrassing yourself with all the bad art first?
I'll figure that out eventually. But not tonight. Tonight, I've gotten this far. That's far enough.
So, I hope the website and blog will be easier to navigate and more user-friendly moving forward.
More book-oriented, as they say.
I apologize if you have already been mauled by a grizzly. I thought he was friendly, but apparently, he was just a bear. I will buy you new eyes and pay for the medical 'copter. Just scoot over and leave a seat for me, because I think I got nicked by a claw, myself.
Monday, December 22, 2008
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Kirkus Review of I’M PERFECT, YOU’RE DOOMED!
Replete with all the angst and adolescent passion requisite in a coming-of-age memoir, stand-up comedian Abrahams’s debut features a special grabber—the expectation of the impending end of days. The author was reared as a Jehovah’s Witness, convinced that the world as we know it would soon end. The word from the Kingdom Halls where Witnesses gathered was that nonbelievers would perish any minute now in a fiery apocalypse, the Great War of Armageddon. Therefore, the author knew that worldly things like birthday celebrations, divorces, Smurfs, Halloween, yard sales and sex with strangers must be avoided in favor of regular Bible study and knocking on sinners’ doors. Sister Kyria learned that “Jesus was the head over man; man was the head over woman; and woman was the head over cooking peach cobbler and shutting up.” Somehow she became interested in matters not covered in Watchtower, Awake! or meetings at the Pawtucket Kingdom Hall. These included e-mail flirtations, weed, vodka and, in particular, sex. Her co-religionists soon became convinced that Abrahams, once tagged as gifted, had been taken by a demon spirit.
Readers will be convinced it was the spirit of a comic performer, doubtless acquired at her early Theocratic Ministry School appearances as well as later competitive poetry slams. She was, naturally, “disfellowshipped” and thus deprived of perpetual life. Undoubtedly the cleverest lapsed Jehovah’s Witness yet, Abrahams offers a graphic, mordant, wickedly distaff take on the first two decades of her current life. It’s a confessional talking cure, melancholy as well as funny as it chronicles unharmonious family life, a short miserable marriage, foul boyfriends, booze and pervasive naïveté.
As oddly engrossing as repeated slow-motion viewings of an accident in an amusement park.
(Agent: Laurie Abkemeier/DeFiore and Company)
Readers will be convinced it was the spirit of a comic performer, doubtless acquired at her early Theocratic Ministry School appearances as well as later competitive poetry slams. She was, naturally, “disfellowshipped” and thus deprived of perpetual life. Undoubtedly the cleverest lapsed Jehovah’s Witness yet, Abrahams offers a graphic, mordant, wickedly distaff take on the first two decades of her current life. It’s a confessional talking cure, melancholy as well as funny as it chronicles unharmonious family life, a short miserable marriage, foul boyfriends, booze and pervasive naïveté.
As oddly engrossing as repeated slow-motion viewings of an accident in an amusement park.
(Agent: Laurie Abkemeier/DeFiore and Company)
Monday, December 15, 2008
Sunday, December 14, 2008
Donuts may be included in baking
Violet: "Do you know Joey the Baker?"
Me: "You mean Joey Donuts?"
Violet: "I don't think so, he's Joey the Baker."
Me: "Because there's a donut guy. He makes donuts. I think he said they call him Joey Donuts."
Violet: "No, this is just a regular baker. He always bums cigarettes."
Me: "Joey the Baker, not Joey Donuts?"
Violet: "Right."
Me: "We're living in the Sopranos."
Me: "You mean Joey Donuts?"
Violet: "I don't think so, he's Joey the Baker."
Me: "Because there's a donut guy. He makes donuts. I think he said they call him Joey Donuts."
Violet: "No, this is just a regular baker. He always bums cigarettes."
Me: "Joey the Baker, not Joey Donuts?"
Violet: "Right."
Me: "We're living in the Sopranos."
Friday, December 12, 2008
Upcoming Performance at Union Hall
Hello people who like things! Good news is afoot: I have a thing for you to like!
I will be performing some kind of Jehovah's Witness-based multimedia PowerPoint projector presentation p-thingy for the Adult Education show at Union Hall in Park Slope on December 17th.
I think it's going to be pretty okay. I'm writing it this weekend, so I'll keep you updated if it starts to suck or something.
My segment is called This Is Eternal Life in Paradise:
Kyria Abrahams, author of the upcoming memoir I'm Perfect, You're Doomed: Tales From A Jehovah's Witness Upbringing, welcomes you to your amazing new life after the Great War of Armageddon.
Here's the info from their facebook group, which you may also wish to join here: http://www.facebook.com/event.php?eid=102503400095&ref=ts
ADULT EDUCATION PRESENTS: MISSPENT YOUTH
Wednesday, Dec. 17, 2008 - 8 pm (doors at 7:30)
Union Hall in Park Slope
702 Union St. @ 5th Ave
$5 cover
Hosted by comedian Charles Star.
I will be performing some kind of Jehovah's Witness-based multimedia PowerPoint projector presentation p-thingy for the Adult Education show at Union Hall in Park Slope on December 17th.
I think it's going to be pretty okay. I'm writing it this weekend, so I'll keep you updated if it starts to suck or something.
My segment is called This Is Eternal Life in Paradise:
Kyria Abrahams, author of the upcoming memoir I'm Perfect, You're Doomed: Tales From A Jehovah's Witness Upbringing, welcomes you to your amazing new life after the Great War of Armageddon.
Here's the info from their facebook group, which you may also wish to join here: http://www.facebook.com/event.php?eid=102503400095&ref=ts
ADULT EDUCATION PRESENTS: MISSPENT YOUTH
Wednesday, Dec. 17, 2008 - 8 pm (doors at 7:30)
Union Hall in Park Slope
702 Union St. @ 5th Ave
$5 cover
Hosted by comedian Charles Star.
I am issue #1
Thank you for the spider bite.
Thank you for the adamantium.
Thank you for the gamma rays.
Thank you for trying to make it look like an accident.
Thank you for the gift of being misunderstood, feared and vilified.
Thank you for the chase through New Mexico that made the audience's heart pound like lovers.
Thank you for ordering the police to shoot the evil bastard on sight.
Thank you for warning your daughter that I'm unstable and seek only to crush her.
Thank you for the tracking device in my kidnapped skull.
Some days, I could almost swear you locked me in that government van and implanted it there just for me.
Thank you for the adamantium.
Thank you for the gamma rays.
Thank you for trying to make it look like an accident.
Thank you for the gift of being misunderstood, feared and vilified.
Thank you for the chase through New Mexico that made the audience's heart pound like lovers.
Thank you for ordering the police to shoot the evil bastard on sight.
Thank you for warning your daughter that I'm unstable and seek only to crush her.
Thank you for the tracking device in my kidnapped skull.
Some days, I could almost swear you locked me in that government van and implanted it there just for me.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Meditation at the waterfall next to the synagogue after court
In the center, is a waterfall.
The leaves closer to Third Avenue are dead.
The leaves closer to Second are alive.
Above it all: two Christmas trees with strings of tiny white lights.
Spots of unstoppable water droplets on my notebook.
The leaves closer to Third Avenue are dead.
The leaves closer to Second are alive.
Above it all: two Christmas trees with strings of tiny white lights.
Spots of unstoppable water droplets on my notebook.
Monday, December 8, 2008
Survival instinct, your mileage may vary
Here are some things I've learned while not dying:
People don't always understand honesty, especially in art. If you don't want to keep your mouth shut, you should decide if you're willing to lose any of the following things: money, freedom, friendship, your apartment. Beyond that, I don't think there's anything else other people can take from you.
The friends of people who hate you are going to hate you by default. There's no need to worry about what they have been told. They have been told the worst about you. They have been spared the best. Life isn't fair, but at least it's predictable. Predict this.
People are lying about you. People are wrong about you. People misunderstand you. You have lost things you did not deserve to lose and garnered reputations you did not deserve to earn. Get over it.
But when more people "misunderstand" you than love and support you, it's not them, it's you. And vice-versa.
When people believe the worst about you, it's because they have to - they are trying to save themselves. Don't think of them as assholes, think of them as kicking you in the face during a nightmare because they mistakenly think they are falling.
Whatever you do, don't buy into it. The object of shit-talking is to eventually make you lose faith in yourself. It's about power, not conversation.
...and anyway, hatred, gossip, slander, lies, and hurtful words always make you look worse than the subject of your vitriol. So let the shit-talking commence!
Try not to right any wrongs. Justice is usually just a sexy word for revenge. Revenge is only upon yourself. If you feel morally obligated to mete out "justice," check to see if other people are being saved instead of one person being punished.
There is nothing in this world that cannot be made easier by practicing acceptance. Granted, I never had a gangrenous leg sawed off without anesthesia during the Civil War. But I don't think struggling to keep my leg would have helped.
People don't always understand honesty, especially in art. If you don't want to keep your mouth shut, you should decide if you're willing to lose any of the following things: money, freedom, friendship, your apartment. Beyond that, I don't think there's anything else other people can take from you.
The friends of people who hate you are going to hate you by default. There's no need to worry about what they have been told. They have been told the worst about you. They have been spared the best. Life isn't fair, but at least it's predictable. Predict this.
People are lying about you. People are wrong about you. People misunderstand you. You have lost things you did not deserve to lose and garnered reputations you did not deserve to earn. Get over it.
But when more people "misunderstand" you than love and support you, it's not them, it's you. And vice-versa.
When people believe the worst about you, it's because they have to - they are trying to save themselves. Don't think of them as assholes, think of them as kicking you in the face during a nightmare because they mistakenly think they are falling.
Whatever you do, don't buy into it. The object of shit-talking is to eventually make you lose faith in yourself. It's about power, not conversation.
...and anyway, hatred, gossip, slander, lies, and hurtful words always make you look worse than the subject of your vitriol. So let the shit-talking commence!
Try not to right any wrongs. Justice is usually just a sexy word for revenge. Revenge is only upon yourself. If you feel morally obligated to mete out "justice," check to see if other people are being saved instead of one person being punished.
There is nothing in this world that cannot be made easier by practicing acceptance. Granted, I never had a gangrenous leg sawed off without anesthesia during the Civil War. But I don't think struggling to keep my leg would have helped.
Sunday, December 7, 2008
"Powerful Kyria Dream Chant Strephon 74 Birthday"
Please sing this whenever approaching me at all times in the future, no exceptions. Thank you for your cooperation.
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