British Comedy

As an American Country Western Star once said, “I like it, I love it, I want some more of it.” But now I am wondering if that statement really fits me. I mean I still love reading Douglas Adams, (even his non-fiction is hilarious.) I still enjoy a rerun of Are You Being Served and Absolutely Fabulous. While watching the new series of Top Gear I find myself rolling on the ground laughing my fat... well lets just say I truly enjoy watching it.





But, I find myself at odds with the new British invasion. Namely Russell Brand, the man who described himself as resembling "an S&M Willy Wonka” A man with such a uniquely different point of view and style, of well, everything!?!





At first glance I think he is an exhibitionist and for the most part I despise these types of people. This is partially because it is plain annoying to all, but mostly because most of the time they are far more successful than myself. I tried to hire my own paparazzi - it's really not as easy as one would think. After dwelling on my disinterest in Mr. Brand I found myself focusing on another point, which I find unacceptable. His delivery! This is where I lose most people, because he follows a style not uncommon in British Comedy. But I believe there is a difference and the idea came to me while talking to a coworker today about his license plate (another story for another day) – The idea pertains to the crafty art of being subtly obscene.



I have to say that British Comedy is absolutely brilliant at this. The way puns are delivered with a straight face in a suit and tie. The way the line smoothly rolls off the tongue and you’re given only enough time to catch your breath and then another far more spectacular line is heaved at you with clock like precision.



Mr. Brand lacks this skill. He has the point of view. He has the topics. He has a look – I leave that alone. NO I WILL NOT! He has ruined the look. Stomped on it smeared mud and mascara all over it and called it – Good, and it is just not… Good! But more than that, he needs to work on his delivery, will he work on it? No! Why? Because! Mr. Brand is trying to reinvent the, “knickers waving on the flag pole.”



I would like to say good bye to Mr. Brand, but I’m afraid the whole population of the world has lost their minds and he is the new favored British Comedy invasion.



And as a talking ape once said “Oh shit their goes the planet!”

Trick or Treat

One day a year we all get to be ourselves. All hallows eve - Halloween! You see everyone in there true form from goblins to preincesses and super heros to naughty nurses. Many see this as yet another slippery slope leading our society towrards the devil's pit. All I say is pass me a pint you foul smelling goul!

SUV for Peanuts

That's right I said it! I want an SUV and I am willing to only pay with Peanuts. If you act fast, the package may still be 3/4 full. Right now I have only grabbed a handful but I will wait 5 minutes before I grab another handful. Okay maybe two minutes. They are roasted and salted peanuts, very tasty and for the right SUV I would be willing to part with them. So act fast and contact me through this site or you can contact me at: http://www.visionsoftheunknown.com/

Poetry

Sneaky Picture

Like a tsunami washing over the shores
The morning sun washes over my pores
Under the covers I reach for my wife
Feeling nothing, I swung like a knife

Where could she be? I ask myself
I strain my eyes to read the clock on the shelf
Eleven o’clock I overslept again
Even though it is the weekend

I pull the covers back and stagger from bed
Yawning involuntarily and scratching my head
I make my way through the hall and down the stairs
That’s when I see them reclining on chairs

My wife is stretched out with my child
So gently they rock like one compiled
Carefully I move to not make a sound
Swinging my head I look all around

In the corner I spy my camera laying
Not to wake them, I start my praying
Turning I focus and get a good angle
Of a daughter and mother so entangled

The flash goes off, their eyes open wide
My daughters arm swings up trying to hide
I have my sneaky picture, she is too late
I smile to myself because it turned out great

Original work of:

Jason E. Lee

Warning - Life changing event!

Yes, it has happened again!

It seems every day is filled with new excitement. But, every once in a while something happens that blows the shoes right off your feet, and today for me it was my beautiful 2 month old daughter smiling, at the sound of my voice.

Yes, you heard me.

I walked in to say hello to my baby girl and with the poise of an adolescent, she turned her head, looked me dead in the eye and gave me the single most brilliant, though toothless, smile I have ever seen. It literally took my breath away.

What could I say or do at a time like that?

I did the only thing that came to mind. Wrapped my enormous self around her and gave her the softest bear hug I could.

A few hours later my wife was finally able to pry her from my grip.

God I love that girl!

GOD

If you are out there, Thank you, and What the F**K?

Poetry

Evening setting on my day


In the stillness of the night


Smile a little smile for me...

Tell me things are all right

Stay a little while with me?



In the setting of my day

My portion is complete

I need to find some comfort

I need to find a retreat



Why such gloomy faces?

Is it really all so bad?

For in the evening he erases

All the reasons to be sad



So in the stillness of my night

Smile a little smile for me

For I tell you things are alright

Stand together all the while with me!



(Memory of the last days with my uncle

I will forever stand with him!)



Original work of:
Jason E. Lee

Poetry

Dream far off from here


I couldn’t have thought of a more traitorous path
Fraught with insecurities, sparking our internal wrath
Now we have a chance again
To begin a race that we both could win

All the things I wish I hadn’t said
Wrapped up tight inside my scattered head
I’m still dreamed of life so far off
Far off from here

I always want to hide that screwed up side of me
But when I do it fills you with insecurity
I want make this a stronger bond than before
I am to brittle to fight another war

All the things I wish I hadn’t said
Wrapped up tight inside my scattered head
I’m still dreamed of life so far off
Far off from here

Always wanting to connect with you
Something about you is so fresh and new
Can we make it together to the end
Steal a dream, and create a softer trend

All the things I wish I hadn’t said
Wrapped up tight inside my scattered head
I’m still dreamed of life so far off
Far off from here

Starring off into our past
I see a love that shall forever last
You are the best thing that could ever be
And I catch you starring straight back at me

So far from here
Please a few words for my fear
Oh how I long to here
We are so far from here



Original work of:
Jason E. Lee

The final proof that Leprechauns are aliens! (I think)

I know this for a fact because:

1. I'm Irish and we know about this kind of stuff.
2. I recently wrote a book that completely explains how this is possible. "Visions of the Unknown" by Jason E. Lee
3. I saw it on TV. Everything that is on TV is real!
4. I read all about it on a super acurate website http://www.abovetopsecret.com/forum/thread378586/pg1
5. Just to be clear I am Irish and we know about this kind of stuff!
6. I saw the movie Darby O'Gill and the Little People (1959) and if that Leprechaun was not an alien, then I'm a monkeys uncle and Erin is not a monkey. That I know about. I think.
   So there you have it. The final proof that I'm a monkeys uncle... Wait, no, no, no... Scratch that! The final proof that Leprechauns are aliens!
   

My Take On Love Stories

Disclaimer: I will try lay down my thoughts as clearly as possible without dreadfully tarnishing a magnificent piece of literature. I apologize ahead of time for saying both too much and yet too little.

Question: What do most of them have in common?

Answer: A complete lack of reality!

That being said, today I found myself completely captivated by one of my all time favorite love stories ever - On Her Majesty's Secret Service by Ian Fleming. I even caught myself entirely believing the half baked plot and the proposed possibility of happily ever after.

First off, just to be superfluous I should hope everyone knows of James Bond, the dashing British Secret Service Agent who is known as much for his deadly aim as he is for his womanizing, the man who is responsible for saving the world many times over and breaking as many hearts.
That being said, the story that Ian weaves is one of death defying action, with classic cloak and dagger one would expect from a Bond Novel.

The twist is that in the background of the entire story, there is this girl that as is seems would be absolutely perfect for James. But not like so many of the other girls James has been involved with, Tracy possesses a believable personality, mixed with an unbelievable past. The type of past that would trap James’s intellect and desires, but with no malice pretence.

Their courtship was both fanciful and somehow still traditional. Spending time both strolling through gardens and being chased by mad gunmen.

As you read the story with all the twists and turns, you slowly forget that they are going to be together forever and at that point that idea does not seem all that unrealistic. Then as you read, James saves the day and you are stuck thinking in the back of your mind, “wait this can’t be - James Bond is going to get married to a woman he really loves?”

Then you gasp as he does, scrunching up in the fetal position waiting for the once perfect novel to bite the dust. But then Ian surprises you yet again with that damn last page. First your lip begins to quiver as your body melts in the chair. Your heart actually begins to bleed for James. You empathize for a man who, by all rights has been through more than any man should.

That’s when it hit me! Ian Fleming made me believe in love stories again!

Damn it – now I will have to go back and read The Notebook by Nicholas Sparks all over again.

Experience at Henry Brown

As I sat at the end of a dimly lit hall, laden with expressions like that of a zombie, my ears perked at the sound of a frantic voice. My eyes lifted and searched for the source scanning each face. As I scanned every darting set of eyes and every downturned nose, I noticed how each was trying to sink further behind their respectable tombstone of a kiosk. Finally my eyes held on a young woman who had just walked into the hall from the expansive driveway that belonged to Henry Brown GMC. The young woman was trembling as she strained to complain with every ounce, her frail frame could muster. The aged female service writer in front of her was also frustrated continued to trying to explain the problem but was unable to look the angry girl straight in her eyes. The storm of anger that was the young girl, built slowly with small busts like that of a sub machine gun. “This is the Third time!” she exclaimed. The words scattering small bursts to the wind, her tone fluttering from obvious frustration, pausing as her worried eyes searched the ceiling for help, while the veins on her face bulged from stress and fear. No doubt she felt she had been confronted by a wall of bureaucratic red tape. As her patience thinned like the hair of an aging man, you could see she was nearing the point where she would lose all self restraint with the service writer who was attempting to help her. Then from nowhere a new voice, a voice with calm and soothing tone that floated through the air, like a light cloud that gently rolls in and fills the sky. Warmth radiantly entered the room subtly at first, as the tall man who belonged to the calm voice approached the young woman with a slow sauntering gate. Gently with the care of a bed nurse, he reviewed the young woman’s situations, past and present. With his commanding presence he told her the cold hard facts, in a matter of fact way just like Andy Griffith would have done with Opie Taylor. He injected a word here and there to commiserate, as he used his slow validating disposition to explain the situation. Slowly the woman’s grimace faded away as she was calmed. Letting each word sink in as she accepted the facts, the honest assessment and solution, however costly it was. The calm tall man wrapped up the conversation as he walked her out the door leading her to her car. With a few final words of encouragement exchanged. The car started off down the drive, but suddenly the car squealed to halt as the window rolled down. The young woman stuck her head out the window with a purposeful expression and called to the man saying, “Thank you! I will remember this.” And then she drove away.

Cucumber Versus Horseradish

Okay so here is what I do when my daughter and I are extremely bored. Let the nuttiness begin.
Video editing and publishing: John Hadwin (http://www.johnhadwin.com/)

Photography

Photography is art. It takes an interesting subject, with all the right elements, captured by the right eye at the right time.

In Loving Memory of Delbert Wayne Reed

Delbert Wayne Reed
1950 - 2004

Poetry

Good Morning

I wake up, greeted by the morning air,
Standing up my body surges with a rush of life
Your smell swells in my head, but your not there
Then I remember the embrace, when I asked you to be my ….

I stumble into my library and pick up my guitar
Your kiss is still moist upon my lip
Sitting I think of how far apart we really are
I pick up your stale drink and take a sip

I try to fumble through a favorite song
Tripping up the lyrics like I always do
I think of the things for which I long
I think of all the things I want to do with you

I look around as if lost, and then I see
Behind a book yet so far away
Your beautiful picture looking at me
Your smile sweet, as if to say

I love you.

And then I smile

Original work of:

Jason E. Lee

What I know about art!

Let me just start by saying I am not an artist. I am okay, good, maybe even skilled, but by no means can I classify myself as an artist.
This weekend I finished the nursery for my soon to be baby girl. Being this is my first child I decided to throw caution to the wind and create a mural with characters from our theme (Dr. Seuss. See his work at http://www.drseussart.com) It turned out beautifully, if I do say so myself. But the reactions both before and after, from my lovely wife, got me thinking about how people think about art. Before I had started it, my wife was reticent about me marking up her wall, and after, when it was done, her eyes said it before she could speak it. I knew I could throw something up there that would pass, I don’t think it is art by any means, but I would like to think she was floored. She was bragging to her friends sending photos out to everyone. I am also proud of the work, and of course plenty of my friends had to see my work. (You too can see it at http://picasaweb.google.com/Hayson337)
The reaction - the art. First while I think Dr. Seuss is art in one form. I don’t think it to be necessarily a complex or moving piece of work. I do think he was able to capture the attention of the viewer and convey motion vividly. I think that is why it works so well with young minds. Notice I did not mention children. I want to think that adults who still are young at heart can appreciate this kind of art for what it is - art.
What else I know about art. Art is what a person likes, thus there is a lot of art out there that is way beyond my tastes. What I do like is art that grabs a person when they first look at it and then after fifteen minutes of staring at it they notice it again like they are looking at it for the first time. I have several favorite artists that do this. One would be Claude-Joseph Vernet (1714-1789) I make a pilgrimage to a little museum in San Diego every year (Timken), just to spend a few moments staring at a piece of art painted two hundred and fifty years ago (A Seaport at Sunset http://www.timkenmuseum.org/) Like any great piece of work you have to see it to understand.
Who I know about art. I like to brag that I am the most fortunate person in the world. I say this because I am married to the most wonderful person in the world, have the most caring and supportive family in the world, and I have the coolest friends in the world and right now I am going to focus on the one who brings art to a new level for me.
The Caleb Merrick – The Art God. He is a true artist in the deepest meaning of the word. To compare him to other gods of art, I would mix up the brilliant figures of Rembrandt and his manipulation of shadows. To the vivid colors of Boldini, I’m still looking a speck of black in his work. I would also add the depth of Michelangelo and Da Vinci with all the hidden meanings thrown together. I have known Caleb for a long time and have experienced his work first hand. I guess what I want to say is he is brilliant. I think he has a ability that few possess and a hand touched by God. If you don’t believe me see his work in person, or what his demo reel at: http://www.calebmerrick.com/
One day he will be more well known than he is now. Like a good friend of Dr. Seuss once said to him “There will come a day when” Caleb’s work, “will be seen by millions!”

By Jason E. Lee
Author of “Visions of the Unknown”