The Unsinkable brian cork™

Brian Patrick Cork is living the Authentic Life
Browsing Kobayashi Maru

maybe the Lord is God of thunder

December13

I may have George, John, Johnny and Todd back to hands-on-knees. I’ll add Mark to the mix.

so… I started with the simple question:

“How is it, or why is it, the Christians and Jews managed to come up with a “competing” holiday period Christmas and Hanukkah)?
What is the common ground or tension point?
Perhaps the answer is evident and I’m a bit foggy today. However, I’m drawing a blank. And, its a terrific excuse to engage you good men.”

it’s been quite a spell since I posited myself as the Heterodox, eh. the conversation is only getting itself underway. or, it may stop itself cold. perhaps because I answer my own question towards the end of soliloquy (an act of speaking one’s thoughts aloud when by oneself or regardless of any hearers, esp. by a character in a play.) below. soliloquy kind of works because I talk to myself and mutter through the thinking process – and, it’s all quite dramatic.

while I want there to be a God, I do sense there is something I can’t fathom that creates triangles that generates purpose (this might make a lot of sense to people that play Soccer and/ or Lacrosse and understand physics) and might assign karma to stuff. maybe not Catholic soccer players from Ireland, mind you.

in any event, I suspect “God” was realized when some cave dweller saw a family friend fried by a lightning bolt and realized they were gone.

really gone.

they had evolved enough to be self, and not just situationally, aware. the concept of fading to black and no longer being conscious gave birth to the notion there is something else we can hope for.

few things inspire like hope.

playing on the need were some form of leader(s) that understood they could control others and this evolved into organized religion that first had to be filtered through a series of pagan rituals.

so, the line of David was divided while a bunch of people were holding an orgy under the harvest moon (although a dear friend suggests: “I believe Christmas which was not highly celebrated actually was chosen during a Roman festival of the sun. So in a way, it was marketing”). by the time they came to their senses it was December, and they picked and chose their favorite rites. but, both lines exert a measure of control with a set of rules that make most people manageable for the hierarchy that get to go to Mandela’s memorial and take “selfies”. God just issues discernment and sorts-out those that don’t use it in an advantageous way.

define advantageous as you will. that might be the holy grail.

something created the universe. it works brilliantly I think, unless its a fatally broken open-loop system that has [fill-in-the-blank] leakage at the end we can’t yet see (AT&T has a data-leakage problem they won’t admit to, and it causes a lot of slower thinking people financial issues). God works. when I finally see Him beyond my minds-eye, I THINK one of my first questions might be, “so how should I refer to you?”, or, “what do you like to be called?”. also, “do ‘selfies’ impact the whole ‘plank in the eye’ conversation?”.

one more thing… who wins if you care enough to keep asking the question(s) as I believe the Heterodox, must? is it a Kobayashi Maru? possibly Russian roulette? are you damned if you do? or, damned if you don’t?

see you on the other side. maybe not. probably.

peace be to my Brothers and Sisters.

brian patrick cork

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sometimes I do fall Down

December15

I’m having an admittedly tough day.

some of it has to do with the recent cyber-bullying Haley Anne recently endured (that’s the right word, endured). I had to question my prowess as a Dad to even let that sort of thing happen in her life. I still remember her, at three years old, stomping in a rain puddle, and exclaiming, “Daddy! That’s My Daddy! Hi Daddy!”, waiting outside the garage for me to pull-in, and home from work. She’s banned from Facebook and Twitter, and we’ve taken steps to block the evil from reaching her via iPhone.

and, of course, I’m taking heat from my Lacrosse Club for being over-the-top. but, I’ve formed a covenant with my players; I always do. and, they trust me. my job is to make them better, and then, great Lacrosse players. The Board of Directors can’t keep up with me. but, where is my responsibility? my heart is on my sleeve, all the time, and it’s taking a beating.

Joanne is displeased with me. all I want to do is make my girls happy. it doesn’t always work, so not often enough. so, I act like a Rhodesian Ridgeback. that’s an overly sensitive lot that has an unusually keen sense of fairness.

I had a young entrepreneur practically in tears this morning because he could not articulate a valid Return on Investment (ROI) for his business idea. it was so hard to show him the truth. big dreams break hard and painfully so. I see more of my own daughters in everyone every day and pray someone like me will be there ego guide them, in turn.

but, it’s me that happens to be the common denominator. I acknowledge that. my struggles are hardly Biblical. but, certainly the stuff of a parable, or two, eh.

it’s always the Kobayashi Maru. but, I do find a measure of solace in understanding that character and faith (including in myself) are best when tested.

just give me time, everyone. I promise to pull it all together, for good effect.

today I’m listening to Fall At Your Feet, by Crowded House.

peace be to my Brothers and Sisters.

brian patrick cork

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there are no mistakes every day

August6

the worst mistake you can make is the one you repeat.

let’s ask ourselves, and daily:

“are we using our superpowers for good, and with purpose and intention?”

do it!

peace be to my Brothers and Sisters.

brian patrick cork

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today should be different

July21

I awoke today in rather good form.

with Haley Anne off to Sandestin for a week with one of her “other families”, Joanne and Emma Jo had indulged themselves with a in-family sleepover. this had me in the guest room with Rowdy happy at my feet.

I had a double cardio work-out. sleep, as always, had come easy and quickly for me, with dreams aplenty and vibrant. refreshed I began to focus on the day ahead my usual optimism had me thinking like Captain America.

today, you were supposed to be reading a different post, and certainly a different kind of posting. it’s called water Rescue! you will see that. but, after my morning, and what it portends, I’ve decided to stave that effort off for tomorrow.

there is perspective afoot, here.

with other events crowding my mind and teeming imagination (possibilities and opportunities abound) I entered “my SBUX” (Starbucks) off Bethany Road in Milton. there, things took a rather abrupt and uncomfortable turn with familiar, but unexpected cues.

“Homeless Guy” was in the corner nursing a coffee. he looks normal, just wary. but, he is a reminder that something is not quite right in our overly comfortable “horse country” community that seems so unfazed by economic turmoil.

I don’t know his story; why he is homeless?

we made eye contact, and I was faced with the fact that I did not like what I (thought or felt) I saw behind his gaze. I thought of a Dawn of the Dead movie. zombie movies and soft drinks are typically referred to as “dawn of the dead movies” and “cokes”, right?

I don’t know her name, and now that bothers me as well. but, “Ditzy” was manning the register. the routine is always the same. she asks the same question (one or two, today?”), yet seemingly ever taken by surprise by the answer (“always two”) 1/. she can be counted on to call me “Daniel”, and I (and, the Barista) long ago stopped trying to correct her.

but, why should she know my name when I don’t know hers?

that simple realization began to gnaw at me as well as she fumbled with the clear vente cups only to be waved-off by a teammate that had already begun to build my beverages when I breached the doorway.

no sooner had I settled into my Tundra for the quick ride to the offices when the announcer on WSB 95.5 (what is his name?) grimly advised me that another unnamed woman from Johns Creek had died of kidney cancer. and, as she slid into darkness her neighbors, and strangers (evidently everyone was a stranger) rifled through her belongings because they had been cast to the curbside by a relentless landlord bent on her eviction.

did she pass from light to dark, alone?

so… I’m sure God will, eventually, make it a bit more clear to me why I’m so sensitive to my community today. maybe I need to be more grateful for the incredible blessings that abound in my life. I’ve done some cool things in my day. most of it felt self-indulgent like what occurred in Sarajevo, being a fireman, coaching athletes – all that stuff.

but… is it possible I’m not doing enough for others?

how can I help you? what would “the Captain” do? how do we make today different, and build on that for tomorrow? is this another of my Kobayashi Maru? I’ll be channeling Captain Kirk this day, I reckon. heroes are needed. real, imagined, determined.

go listen to: Here’s to the Heroes by The Ten Tenors. just remember, we need heroes because there are victims amongst us. we just need to want to make a difference, in everyone’s lives.

peace be to my Brothers and Sisters.

brian patrick cork

1/ I’m reasonably certain that every practiced SBUX barista between Gainesville and Peachtree City knows that my beverage of choice, practicality, and possibly, necessity, is an iced vente chai (whole milk with nine pumps of chai).

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What’s All This About?

"What am I looking at?", you might wonder.

Lots of stuff.

Meanwhile, here, I discuss events, people and things in our world - and, my (hardly simplistic, albeit inarticulate) views around them.

You'll also learn things about, well, things, like people you need to know about, and information about companies you can't find anywhere else.

So, while I harangue the public in my not so gentle way, you will discover that I am fascinated by all things arcane, curious about those whom appear religious, love music, dabble in politics, loathe the media, value education, still think I am an athlete, and might offer a recipe.

All the while, striving mightily, and daily, to remain a prudent and optimistic gentleman - and, authentic.

brian cork by John Campbell





photos by John Campbell

 

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