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	<title>Life's Achanging</title>
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		<title>Life's Achanging</title>
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		<title>Tacit Knowledge</title>
		<link>http://sizzlefrizzle.wordpress.com/2008/02/02/tacit-knowledge/</link>
		<comments>http://sizzlefrizzle.wordpress.com/2008/02/02/tacit-knowledge/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sat, 02 Feb 2008 15:06:10 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>dsquare</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Uncategorized]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://sizzlefrizzle.wordpress.com/?p=9</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Here&#8217;s a litte thought of mine.  &#8221; Trangressions give way to growth,    Tribulations to maturity,   Exploration to self-realization. &#8220; - ( I kinda like how the whole thing ALMOST rhymes, but don&#8217;t. Like the subtle effect of something&#8217;s nearly perfect, but isnt. Like the thrill of falling off the edge of a cliff, but havent. Like [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=sizzlefrizzle.wordpress.com&amp;blog=2094318&amp;post=9&amp;subd=sizzlefrizzle&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Here&#8217;s a litte thought of mine. </p>
<p>&#8221; Trangressions give way to growth, <br />
  Tribulations to maturity,<br />
  Exploration to self-realization. &#8220;</p>
<p>- ( I kinda like how the whole thing ALMOST rhymes, but don&#8217;t.<br />
Like the subtle effect of something&#8217;s nearly perfect, but isnt.<br />
Like the thrill of falling off the edge of a cliff, but havent.<br />
Like the excitment of near penetration, but hasnt.<br />
Like a needle almost to your skin, but not.)</p>
<p>There I go again.</p>
<p>ALMOST rhymed.</p>
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		<title>The Story of His Love</title>
		<link>http://sizzlefrizzle.wordpress.com/2008/01/01/the-birdcage/</link>
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		<pubDate>Tue, 01 Jan 2008 09:37:34 +0000</pubDate>
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		<description><![CDATA[There once was a man named George Thomas, pastor in a small New England town. One Easter Sunday morning he came to the Church carrying a rusty, bent, old bird cage, and set it by the pulpit. Eyebrows were raised and, as if in response, Pastor Thomas began to speak&#8230;&#8217;I was walking through town yesterday [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=sizzlefrizzle.wordpress.com&amp;blog=2094318&amp;post=8&amp;subd=sizzlefrizzle&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><span style="font-size:13pt;"><font face="Times New Roman">There once was a man named George Thomas, pastor in a small New England town. One Easter Sunday morning he came to the Church carrying a rusty, bent, old bird cage, and set it by the pulpit. Eyebrows were raised and, as if in response, Pastor Thomas began to speak&#8230;&#8217;I was walking through town yesterday when I saw a young boy coming toward me swinging this bird cage. On the bottom of the cage were three little wild birds, shivering with cold and fright. I stopped the lad and asked, &#8216;What you got there, son?&#8217; </font></span></p>
<p><span style="font-size:13pt;"></span><span style="font-size:13pt;"><font face="Times New Roman">&#8216;Just some old birds,&#8217; came the reply.  &#8216;What are you gonna do with them?&#8217; I asked.  </font></span></p>
<p><span style="font-size:13pt;"></span><span style="font-size:13pt;"><font face="Times New Roman">&#8216;Take &#8216;em home and have fun with &#8216;em,&#8217; he answered &#8216;I&#8217;m gonna tease &#8216;em and pull out their feathers to make &#8216;em fight. I&#8217;m gonna have a real good time&#8217; &#8216;But you&#8217;ll get tired of those birds sooner or later. What will you do?&#8217;  </font></span></p>
<p><span style="font-size:13pt;"></span><span style="font-size:13pt;"><font face="Times New Roman">&#8216;Oh, I got some cats,&#8217; said the little boy. &#8216;They like birds. I&#8217;ll take &#8216;em to them.&#8217;  </font></span></p>
<p><span style="font-size:13pt;"></span><span style="font-size:13pt;"><font face="Times New Roman">The pastor was silent for a moment. &#8216;How much do you want for those birds, son?&#8217;  </font></span></p>
<p><span style="font-size:13pt;"></span><span style="font-size:13pt;"><font face="Times New Roman">&#8216;Huh?? !!! Why, you don&#8217;t want them birds, mister. They&#8217;re just plain old field birds. They don&#8217;t sing. They ain&#8217;t even pretty!&#8217;  </font></span></p>
<p><span style="font-size:13pt;"></span><span style="font-size:13pt;"><font face="Times New Roman">&#8216;How much?&#8217; the pastor asked again.  The boy sized up the pastor as if he were crazy and said, &#8216;$10?&#8217;  </font></span></p>
<p><span style="font-size:13pt;"></span><span style="font-size:13pt;"><font face="Times New Roman">The pastor reached in his pocket and took out a ten dollar bill. He placed it in the boy&#8217;s hand. In a flash, the boy was gone.  </font></span></p>
<p><span style="font-size:13pt;"></span><span style="font-size:13pt;"><font face="Times New Roman">The pastor picked up the cage and gently carried it to the end of the alley where there was a tree and a grassy spot Setting the cage down, he opened the door, and by softly tapping the bars persuaded the birds out, setting them free.  </font></span></p>
<p><span style="font-size:13pt;"></span><span style="font-size:13pt;"><font face="Times New Roman">Well, that explained the empty bird cage on the pulpit, and then the pastor began to tell this story.   </font></span></p>
<p><span style="font-size:13pt;"></span><span style="font-size:13pt;"><font face="Times New Roman">&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;- &lt;3 &#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8212;&#8211;</font></span></p>
<p><span style="font-size:13pt;"></span><span style="font-size:13pt;"><font face="Times New Roman">One day Satan and Jesus were having a conversation. Satan had just come from the Garden of Eden, and he was gloating and boasting. &#8216;Yes, sir, I just caught the world full of people down there. Set me a trap, used bait I knew they couldn&#8217;t resist. Got &#8216;em all!&#8217; </font></span></p>
<p><span style="font-size:13pt;"></span><span style="font-size:13pt;"><font face="Times New Roman">&#8216;What are you going to do with them?&#8217; Jesus asked.   </font></span></p>
<p><span style="font-size:13pt;"></span><span style="font-size:13pt;"><font face="Times New Roman">Satan replied, &#8216;Oh, I&#8217;m gonna have fun! I&#8217;m gonna teach them how to marry and divorce each other, how to hate and abuse each other, how to drink and smoke and curse. I&#8217;m gonna teach them how to invent guns and bombs and kill each other. I&#8217;m really gonna have fun!&#8217; </font></span></p>
<p><span style="font-size:13pt;"></span><span style="font-size:13pt;"><font face="Times New Roman">&#8216;And what will you do when you get done with them?&#8217; Jesus asked. &#8216;Oh, I&#8217;ll kill &#8216;em,&#8217; Satan glared proudly. &#8216;How much do you want for them?&#8217; Jesus asked  </font></span></p>
<p><span style="font-size:13pt;"></span><span style="font-size:13pt;"><font face="Times New Roman">&#8216;Oh, you don&#8217;t want those people. They ain&#8217;t no good. Why, you&#8217;ll take them and they&#8217;ll just hate you. They&#8217;ll spit on you, curse you and kill you. You don&#8217;t want those people!!&#8217;  </font></span></p>
<p><span style="font-size:13pt;"></span><span style="font-size:13pt;"><font face="Times New Roman">&#8216;How much?&#8217; He asked again.  </font></span></p>
<p><span style="font-size:13pt;"></span><span style="font-size:13pt;"><font face="Times New Roman">Satan looked at Jesus and sneered, &#8216;All your blood, tears and your life.&#8217;  </font></span></p>
<p><span style="font-size:13pt;"></span><span style="font-size:13pt;"><font face="Times New Roman">Jesus said, &#8216;DONE!&#8217;  </font></span></p>
<p><span style="font-size:13pt;"></span><span style="font-size:13pt;"><font face="Times New Roman">Then He paid the price.  </font></span><span style="font-size:13pt;"><font face="Times New Roman"> </font></span></p>
<p><span style="font-size:13pt;"></span></p>
<p><span style="font-size:13pt;"></span><span style="font-size:13pt;"><font face="Times New Roman">The pastor picked up the cage he opened the door and he walked from the pulpit.      </font></span><span style="font-size:13pt;line-height:115%;font-family:'Times New Roman','serif';"> </span></p>
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		<title>Hello World!</title>
		<link>http://sizzlefrizzle.wordpress.com/2007/11/10/hello-world/</link>
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		<pubDate>Sat, 10 Nov 2007 11:11:17 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>dsquare</dc:creator>
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		<description><![CDATA[WordPress is pregnant (well, kinda). As the fetus of my blog continues to grow into a more complete form inside wordpress, I&#8217;m working my fingers (and more!) into learning about web tools and sorts. Online music videos are such distractions. Which eventually led me to create a webpage, dedicated entirely to this visual arts. So that [...]<img alt="" border="0" src="http://stats.wordpress.com/b.gif?host=sizzlefrizzle.wordpress.com&amp;blog=2094318&amp;post=1&amp;subd=sizzlefrizzle&amp;ref=&amp;feed=1" width="1" height="1" />]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>WordPress is pregnant (well, kinda).</p>
<p>As the fetus of my blog continues to grow into a more complete form inside wordpress, I&#8217;m working my fingers (and more!) into learning about web tools and sorts.</p>
<p>Online music videos are such distractions. Which eventually led me to create a webpage, dedicated entirely to this visual arts.</p>
<p>So that all of you can get distracted as well =D</p>
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