Wednesday, June 27, 2012
12 hours and they didn't tow me
Hello nice people who park your car in this garage.
Thanks for not having me towed last night, I don’t think I thanked you or apologized appropriately when we saw each other. I am super in love with this woman who has been out of town for a while, and she just got back and asked me to meet her at the PhoneBooth across the street. I guess I was so dang excited I just parked next to one of those construction barricades thinking it was a legit spot, when it was obviously your garage and driveway. I am so thankful that you didn’t have me towed as I just don’t have $500 to give to DPT/City Tow right now, and the fact that you waited for over 12 hours was fantastically thoughtful. I hope I didn’t block you in or prevent someone from parking for too long, but I did want you to know how much I appreciate your understanding and patience.
Sincerely,
Guy who is a spaz and obviously blinded by love enough to park really poorly in your neighborhood.
Monday, June 25, 2012
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Christmas in New England
I spent many of my pre-teen years living in the New England States and my Mom was arrested right before Christmas one year while protesting the construction of the Seabrook nuclear power plant. She was out of the pokey in less than 2 days but it impacted that Christmas severely. We lived next to the state highway in a small town called Marlow in a 3 story Victorian farmhouse built in 1843 and last improved in 1920-something. I think the population is still 200 shy of a thousand total residents. It had an annex and a barn, both attached to the main house so one could walk from the kitchen through the annex into the barn without going outside. It also had a crooked chimney which caused no less than 5 chimney fires in 3 winters, but the only heat came from the woodstoves, so it might not be that surprising. One of my chores as the oldest child was to start the morning fires in the 3 woodstoves downstairs, so most every day when I woke up I would put on all the clothes I owned and walk downstairs to the ground floor of the house and through the annex into the barn to collect firewood.
The winter my Mom was arrested at Seabrook, she and my step-Dad got this brilliant idea to buy half a hog from the Champney’s hog farm down the road. It was a full half hog, cut right down the middle from tip to tail and strung up in the annex on a wire by the snout. When it was first hoisted up and secured on the main joist to start that lazy spin I was fascinated, I pulled on the dead tail and stood on a broken dusty beehive to get a better look at the teeth inside the half of a mouth. I soon began to recognize the different cavities like the empty cranium, and would occasionally stop the slow rotation in order to check out the single eye.
When the days became shorter and I had to walk (then run) through the annex to get the firewood in the cold dark mornings I stopped calling out “Hey Piggy” and just tried to ignore the shadowy dancing carcass. As the winter wore on pieces started to disappear from the hog, and by the time Christmas came it was just the forelimbs, some ribs, the neck and head. I ate that ham for Thanksgiving with zero regrets though. Still, the creepy sprint from the kitchen door to the woodpile in the barn began to cause me anxiety, so much so that I started walking out the front door and around the house to the barn to get the wood.
Step-Dad had to go bail out Mom from the lock up on Dec 20th, and I was old enough to grasp the impact of this, but despite the strange conditions I would take every opportunity to wax long and wide about Santa and his amazing feats of heroism to my siblings. At the bus stop, doing dishes in the kitchen, feeding the cows in the pasture and going on and on about how the fat guy in the red suit could control animals, the weather, even time itself.
So we had a big dinner Christmas eve, with a tree that all of us went to cut down together from the forest near the famous ‘old man on the mountain’, my step-dad swearing at the dull chain saw and my Mom scolding and laughing by turns.
I remember that night how my Mom gave us a big speech about how ‘Santa might be real busy this year’ and maybe would get back to us sometime in January with a great pile of gifts. Of course we didn’t listen much, most of us too excited to even care about the words that drifted out of our Mom’s mouth like grey snow clouds on a windless night.
Christmas morning came and I could see my breath in thick plumes as I lay in bed.
I was excited but also somewhat nervous, right in between the age of reason and the fits of magic. I grabbed some clothes and shoved them under the covers with me to warm them up a bit and started off in the early morning gloom to grab an armful of split cord wood. That morning I was too tired and cold or just plain didn’t care enough to get my boots on so I ran through the kitchen and into the annex. Too late I realized the shocking hog spin was there to greet me, but so was something else…..
A giant burlap sack normally used to take horse feed from the grain store to the barn was lying right in my way. It was all distended and bulky, angular, like it was filled with giant salt crystals. I pretty near passed it up but my foot struck the bag while skirting the hog carcass and I heard the sound of bells, jingle bells.
I grabbed up the bag and it was heavy, and I heard that sound again. Sweet light and crisp like fresh hot toast in my ear I shook the bag and just felt tremendous goosebump joy surge through my body. I streaked into the house from the kitchen and started yelling loud as possible, “There’s a bag from Santa, he left us a bag near swingin piggy!!!” I was practically hysterical. The packages were wrapped so nice and tight with shiny bows and crazy curled ribbons. Everyone came down breathing huge steam clouds like they were all dragons and before my step-dad could even yell at me for not lighting the fire he took a look at the sack and said “glory-osky and god damn pilgrim pie,… what the hell do you have there red?”
Well my Mom was just about bawling as she took the packages out of the sack one by one, like they were made from the finest china, and she gave a look to my step-dad that was half love and half terrible anger. He shook his head and looked wide eyed around the room like he was going to see Old Saint Nick pop up from behind the chair and wink at any moment. I swear I saw waterworks well up in his eyes too, but I can’t be sure as I was too excited.
My memories get a little sketchy about this point, I remember I got one of those giant Shogun Warriors, the kind that stands about 2 feet tall and shot plastic darts from his hands, and I got a Star Wars Han Solo Figure and my first 45 record (KISS – Rock and Roll all night! B/W Beth),..my brother got some cool games and a couple of books which we both read over and over, one of which was The Hobbit.
Well I do remember that my step-dad went and got the wood for the stoves that morning, shaking his head the whole time like it wasn’t hardly attached anymore, and my Mom didn’t stop crying until at least about noon. Me and my brother and sisters got the best toys out of anyone in the whole town practically, and were sort of celebrities for the rest of that winter. So in all honesty, that’s why I still believe in magic, and Santa Claus.
The winter my Mom was arrested at Seabrook, she and my step-Dad got this brilliant idea to buy half a hog from the Champney’s hog farm down the road. It was a full half hog, cut right down the middle from tip to tail and strung up in the annex on a wire by the snout. When it was first hoisted up and secured on the main joist to start that lazy spin I was fascinated, I pulled on the dead tail and stood on a broken dusty beehive to get a better look at the teeth inside the half of a mouth. I soon began to recognize the different cavities like the empty cranium, and would occasionally stop the slow rotation in order to check out the single eye.
When the days became shorter and I had to walk (then run) through the annex to get the firewood in the cold dark mornings I stopped calling out “Hey Piggy” and just tried to ignore the shadowy dancing carcass. As the winter wore on pieces started to disappear from the hog, and by the time Christmas came it was just the forelimbs, some ribs, the neck and head. I ate that ham for Thanksgiving with zero regrets though. Still, the creepy sprint from the kitchen door to the woodpile in the barn began to cause me anxiety, so much so that I started walking out the front door and around the house to the barn to get the wood.
Step-Dad had to go bail out Mom from the lock up on Dec 20th, and I was old enough to grasp the impact of this, but despite the strange conditions I would take every opportunity to wax long and wide about Santa and his amazing feats of heroism to my siblings. At the bus stop, doing dishes in the kitchen, feeding the cows in the pasture and going on and on about how the fat guy in the red suit could control animals, the weather, even time itself.
So we had a big dinner Christmas eve, with a tree that all of us went to cut down together from the forest near the famous ‘old man on the mountain’, my step-dad swearing at the dull chain saw and my Mom scolding and laughing by turns.
I remember that night how my Mom gave us a big speech about how ‘Santa might be real busy this year’ and maybe would get back to us sometime in January with a great pile of gifts. Of course we didn’t listen much, most of us too excited to even care about the words that drifted out of our Mom’s mouth like grey snow clouds on a windless night.
Christmas morning came and I could see my breath in thick plumes as I lay in bed.
I was excited but also somewhat nervous, right in between the age of reason and the fits of magic. I grabbed some clothes and shoved them under the covers with me to warm them up a bit and started off in the early morning gloom to grab an armful of split cord wood. That morning I was too tired and cold or just plain didn’t care enough to get my boots on so I ran through the kitchen and into the annex. Too late I realized the shocking hog spin was there to greet me, but so was something else…..
A giant burlap sack normally used to take horse feed from the grain store to the barn was lying right in my way. It was all distended and bulky, angular, like it was filled with giant salt crystals. I pretty near passed it up but my foot struck the bag while skirting the hog carcass and I heard the sound of bells, jingle bells.
I grabbed up the bag and it was heavy, and I heard that sound again. Sweet light and crisp like fresh hot toast in my ear I shook the bag and just felt tremendous goosebump joy surge through my body. I streaked into the house from the kitchen and started yelling loud as possible, “There’s a bag from Santa, he left us a bag near swingin piggy!!!” I was practically hysterical. The packages were wrapped so nice and tight with shiny bows and crazy curled ribbons. Everyone came down breathing huge steam clouds like they were all dragons and before my step-dad could even yell at me for not lighting the fire he took a look at the sack and said “glory-osky and god damn pilgrim pie,… what the hell do you have there red?”
Well my Mom was just about bawling as she took the packages out of the sack one by one, like they were made from the finest china, and she gave a look to my step-dad that was half love and half terrible anger. He shook his head and looked wide eyed around the room like he was going to see Old Saint Nick pop up from behind the chair and wink at any moment. I swear I saw waterworks well up in his eyes too, but I can’t be sure as I was too excited.
My memories get a little sketchy about this point, I remember I got one of those giant Shogun Warriors, the kind that stands about 2 feet tall and shot plastic darts from his hands, and I got a Star Wars Han Solo Figure and my first 45 record (KISS – Rock and Roll all night! B/W Beth),..my brother got some cool games and a couple of books which we both read over and over, one of which was The Hobbit.
Well I do remember that my step-dad went and got the wood for the stoves that morning, shaking his head the whole time like it wasn’t hardly attached anymore, and my Mom didn’t stop crying until at least about noon. Me and my brother and sisters got the best toys out of anyone in the whole town practically, and were sort of celebrities for the rest of that winter. So in all honesty, that’s why I still believe in magic, and Santa Claus.
Sunday, December 19, 2010
burning, wishing, walking, soaking
Trees. They become part of the scenery at this time of year don't they?
Yet,... do you see them, feel them,..... do you breathe in their husky myth?
They. Have been here much longer than you. And are most quietly listening.
What you say and do to them is unavoidable, no ducking or running option.
Just passive intense strength - choosing not to decide is still a choice.
think of the senses they touch in you if you have a mind:
smell, sight, touch, taste, being..... just like your teeth. only as strong as you let them
be.
How strong do you let them be?
A massive number that quietly listens - quietly massive, listening number.
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
foreshadowed in grey
"Dear Roberta Sparrow,
……….....I hope that when the world comes to an end I can breathe a sigh of relief, because there will be so much to look forward to."
I had the dream again. It's been so many years (gawd like 20?) since it came I had forgotten all about it, seared it's visual portent away behind layers of glass and smoke. Burned from so many cells as to escape recall and momentum of presence.
The clouds move away and I am flying and free, so far from everything so much like an arrow, a glider, a spring loaded grifter arcing through the sky.
I must be clearing the horizons terminator as my eyesight seems to dim and grow colder, it seems as if I am slowing while my limbs become heavier and heavier. The stars seem to evaporate in mist and as I turn my head realize that there is incredible weight bearing down, that I can see now the closing ring of light so far above me what must be the surface of the water I am now sinking more deeply than I have ever been. The last pinhole of sunlight reaches to me from far above and as it closes in diameter the world becomes still and dark and I can choose to stay this way or lose my shape and merge with the heavy still blankness. I feel the soft crush of millions of gallons squeeze every drop of oxygen from my body as I pass into oblivion and then wakefulness.
I am never left with that breathless post-nightmare feeling, it's more a slow burn; like I just got over a knock in the head.
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
course work - standardizing breakouts
Fuckoff. It’s a lyric from pavement.
Glance, don't stare
Soon you're being told to recognize your heirs
No, not me -- i'm an island of such great complexity
Stress surrounds in the muddy peaceful center of this town
Tell me off in the hotel lobby right in front of all the bellboys and the
Over-friendly concierge.
Yeah I lived this, yeah I am just a nother. Ripped on whiskey parked in solitude.
Whatever, like you haven’t. She said she was comin over tonight.
Painting she said, needed some materials she said.
Am I a garbage dump? A fucking pit in the psyche?
Yeah I lived that. Whatever. I live to serve and you live to earn.
Is there really a difference? Do you have such joy without pay?
My sun burns bright in the heavens, that light hurts your eyes?
Interesting, observe, defend, collusion, patronize.
Cycles you want to shine, steam in the deep which way to fly?
Now you have a safety net lane. No need to worry right?
It’s good because I see how turmoil drives your muse.
Not much to leave tight now?
Not much to leave right then?
Not surprising and when you catch me, my shadow will laugh, bilious and provocative. Feel bliss – as long as you can – it’s yours right now.
Earned and stocked in that cellar you call the muse.
Monday, October 25, 2010
Shockingly Irresistible
Time blinks, it holds and rolls me flat under it massive girth squeezing the soul juice into droplets that rivulet away into floor seams and roof beams.
Island dreams come next and delicious comfort driven before it, herded and coaxed along my eternal expectancy driving the chaff as I peek behind every corner and doorway, relieved and disappointed by turns when finding nothing but moist air and dust clumps.
Impetuous shelter in red velvet and garden apartments we used the cheese and chocolate to hold back thundering minutes, relenting to the fine pull of strong wine and sifting through the embrace of eyes, skin, hands. Too soon it ends and time readies itself for another brace of change, our fear of its inevitability has been given symbolism as twice a year we demand all clocks and calendars rearrange themselves, a paltry gesture that resides on walls of sand to control the tide.
Now it’s crushing me against the wall as it passes by with a giant load, the vacuum of its wake with invisible hooks urging me to follow, demanding that I recognize.
Stockings and candles and rapturous smellings provide more than distractions, letting my mind-heart torrent relax, not looking behind doors or breaking silences with a sigh at least for a short time.
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
some cages need no steel
“It’s nice… very open… this table is really big you could invite Boone and I over for dinner sometime…”
These words drifted off in to the room and the silence swept in like falling poisonous blossoms in a hurricane. The poignancy unintentional, but carefully crafted; rolled like a fine cigar in the hands of a child.
I ran my hand, skin dry and rough from the lotion she took and I needed to replace, along the sealed wood of the cabinet concealing the TV. In silence I set up the cables and cords so that it received signal from the world outside. Images sprang into action diffusing the room with senseless chatter. The wind bent apple tree in the rumpled backyard sighed and wheezed as it gasped along with the minutes and my extended duality. Friend, former lover, spouse, handyman, fixer of meals and broken sheetrock mincing the garlic and the power of longing. My longing. The innate desire cruising through all tangents of my life, pleading with the train of time to bolt forward if even just for a minute. Get past this.
I close and lock the door when I get home. The sink smells of wet spoilage and the clothes link together on the floor in a haphazard macramé begging me to pick them up and give them the dignity of the wash basket. I kick instead, bind rage infused, and they scatter like vultures disturbed from a carcass, some of them landing on the violet pocket shoe rack hanging on the closet door. Not mine.
Monday, September 27, 2010
The final blow
There is no person; there is no institution that can absorb this. The disappointment and sadness of a 10 going-on-11 year old who gets his life yanked out from him. What makes a parent feel regret? I can tell you. But you might want to listen otherwise you are too self absorbed in your own life to even notice. How to explain that its all gonna break? There is no way. I still love you, and everyone you know because I know music. It has whats kept me sane through all this, 4 bands 3 recordings, and I gave my all time best during the process. Hurt and wounded but channeling that and focusing a bitter pill into some massive attack. Please believe in what you do, what you think and feel, the most relevant of tangents. Thanks for holding me and keeping me in your heart I can feel that, it helps with the meetings, and the conferences and the cleaning of the kitchen. The times I am alone in this dark hot house, if you have a deity if you feel like you have spoken to that source and it has answered I am there, because I believe. It brings me closer to the master of the universe, to the giant on the beanstalk. You wanna get it right and you wanna choose. So do I.
Saturday, August 7, 2010
you are beautiful
I haven't done a ritual in a while but tonight I wrote myself a page and set fire to the pile in my living room. It was crap but so freeing to my soul and some good friends have really been there for me lately writing and speaking words of calm lunge. Sleep and est have lost grasp on my heart for now, it's mechanical like a pump or a spindle. Here it is and was accompanied by crushing music 'knife in the water' 'thought forms' 'Brian Ferry' 'velvet Underground' and 'spacemen 3'.
made it through thanks to the peeling back and the strength of friends.
Dream when on feet
Courage counts minutes
Really, really washing the dishes
So fucking clean spot destroyed
Bursting proud skin heat
Reaching when cymbals crash
Heads flex wildcat top white hot
Motion sung burnt with front Em-
Plays when drenched thick
Sweat drip until spent up
Moments shine large with peril
Words reach across pond field stream
Bridge lights front me in bath beam
Pardons are given met right on
Essential acids restored in purposeful match
Turbid monstrous meltdown
You can beat them
And all that shame
I wont cant stand shade now
Eating that plate in belief
Separate heroes walk in place
Bitching froth makes me ache
Somehow strong makes its way
To my sacred place
It could be a kitchen or
Church near a Sheffield grave
To play to play meant it
I spy with internet eyes
Renounce my regret to increment
But all went out in the rain
What smolders was hot flame
Carving iron seals meter my way
It’s brought now bought yours forever from this day.
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
part and parcel
Feeling like my body is having a stoke in reverse
Loss of function, insoluble recognition of mental limb
Loosely at first blush and then crescendo into rigid muscular flex
The surface cannot go calm no matter how long I wail and stare
Crowding every bit of being alive by pushing feet to the concrete
Curses die on my lips cotton mouth sleight of hand
Saturday, July 24, 2010
Asbestos and Bed Bugs
I don’t mourn the life lived, only the cycles that inexorably, disgustingly keep themselves crashing at my gates. Tidal and circumspect; like a locked groove in endless unpredictable motion, spin me into oblivion and suck. These days I don’t cut my whiskey with soda for taste, I do it because it goes down just the same way and that’s a damn waste of good whiskey.
The precept happens when one irks the psyche, spilling true understanding down upon the soul like tainted honey from a dead hive of bees. My psyche in this case was suddenly irked when it was discovered that my one-year-old marriage had been sabotaged almost from the beginning and by one of my oldest of friends. This kind of ecliptic blow is not unknown to me, it happened when one of my girlfriends suddenly became bi-polar, when another of my friends offered to kill an ex for me and then ended up in a Missouri penitentiary for life, when my best friend in 2nd grade was run over on his big wheel while I watched, when I knew I had fallen in love with a musician woman half my age half way around the world and I was engaged, when I finally connected to a beautiful woman then left town to be with a crazy one, when my favorite cat hung itself on the stereo cords and I didn’t bother to get out of bed to check, when I proposed to a woman who was smart enough to parse the truth that we simply shared a biological function together, when I realized my most influential participation in a band was breaking up because the friend songwriting genius was a secret heroin addict – when I realized I could have fulfilled my dreams if I had just taken a chance to believe that I could. But this is not a diatribe on regret; it’s not a treatise on lost permeation, or a missive of bitter revealings. This, my friend, is the life lived and utterly enjoyed; because nothing stands so firm like awesome, courageous, ephemeral life. I was so lonely once that I took my pants off at band practice, because I was in a band with 3 gorgeous women and I couldn’t figure out how to get any attention from any woman anywhere. I laugh now, I strut and spout about the moments I should bury deep inside my self-consciousness, moments I should hope to exercise with lasers and scalpels, but instead celebrate because I wear the absurd and disconsolate close to my chest; because when there is nothing but sheer locution and pain my mind wanders to the absurd, disjointed and wonderful moments that will always remain unexplained.
Once I used the promise of endless years left to live to justify the times I ignored my intuition, the moments I felt myself shuffling through predictable scenarios in my life. The first heartbreak decades ago, coming home from tour a day early to an empty house and being batted against the temple with the knowledge that she was at his house. I used to focus inward, wondering what I needed to learn about humans and nature, about myself or the intersexual relations I futured and fostered.
So now when immutable fact suddenly transcends into chaos and all judgment becomes tenuous I put on Daydream Nation by Sonic Youth, hoping to reach some harbour, some balance in mind and soul. My old friend and compatriot, creating some semblance of comfort in a world utterly gone mad beyond duct tape and chewing gum. Shifting randomly like the dust and cat hair on my foyer.
We met through a work mate – a wonderful woman who was married to a musician I admired greatly. It seemed like ecstasy and bliss wrapped in the most delicious pastry. We both had such similar stories - a son each, single parents for years, the struggle and heartbreak of living life into the void and all the while providing and describing the shape of the world for our most precious cargo. Her appetite was insatiable, like kissing the whip, I was unable to sustain the meteoric assent. I held each moment precious and sacred, the ceremony was at SF City Hall, with my one witness and long time friend still left in SF from the desert, her with 3 close friends and both our sons in attendance. This was by design and in full consciousness as neither of us trusted the institution or the examples we had been provided as youth. Delicate and simple, but it came apart all too soon. Soon the confession of infidelity and dissatisfaction; the unknown interloper who crashed into our probate of partnership drilling deep into the cloth of trust and loyalty. It washed like white hot lava into my brain but we had so much love and purpose that we continued, through counseling and explosions, through accusations and depression, both of us equally ministrating the pain and hurt from perceived incompatibility and discontent. It seemed to work, biting at times, harshly furious and overwhelmingly ugly, but those moments seemed to give way to peaks of solution and tight bond. It’s never the same, it’s more than a game, can’t take it away, can’t kill all the shame,……
Working with what ever was there, eating shit or making cakes was really the same.
It started with a work incident, I manage 16 people and we all work together well.
Our workplace was under an earthquake retrofit, something quite common in California, and then asbestos was discovered. We were asked to evacuate. The shit started to go down, differing accounts of safety precautions, crazy inferences, and I raised my voice because I felt I represented some important people – namely the incredibly hard working souls who are my Team. I wrote and sent an account of the incidents that transpired so there was no mistake. But – it flew in the face of liability and status quo; it made fault where there was reported none and the result was my undoing among my superiors at work and peers that facilitated my projects. I stood alone, suddenly – irrevocably. My training rescinded and expenses unpaid I decided to use the fare I bought to travel back to a place I once lived anyway, Chicago. I met with old friends and had an amazing time with strangers. I played music and enjoyed spontaneous commiseration from the most unlikeliest sources, I once again felt inured. Still the heart beats and regrets nothing, using all nuances to sway the soul into mirrored being, opening probabilities and launching hope anew. Ugly horrible hope. A woman I had been close to for nearly a lifetime took me in and made me whole and then supplied the undoing to my current life, volunteering unasked information which made all the mysterious pieces of the marriage infidelity fit together. Making me realize one of my oldest friends – the man who witnessed my marriage for me, who I have known through 3 lifetimes and 2 different locales– decided in a sober and deliberate way to have an affair with my wife, that was the missing link. Complicating matters, I now had no one to commiserate with. All of my dearest friend were also friends with this jackal but did not know the difference, yet. Should I break them? So many questions. Suddenly thrust back into the home life a new twist develops, bug bites, welts and bruises form on my wife even as I confront her with the information about the crushing reality that the man who I entrusted to witness and stand with me during my marriage ceremony, whom I had know for over a decade, willfully decided to succumb to the most pedestrian interplay. Her wrenching admission under confrontation seems to be reflected by the four dozen welts on her body. The best man screws the wife of the best friend. Some kind of access channel soap opera, off-off-Broadway play, a Montel Williams rerun. She leaves but under the guise of multiple insect bites I mysteriously do not receive. Confronted with the truth she belches forth and reveals herself, coloring the ground and immediate geography with stench and deception revealed.
Affronted, this powerful epiphany strikes me to the core and also seems so achingly familiar. The hurt, the promise obliterated, the broken crucible of hope.
Faced with deliberate misconstruction of facts about risk to my peers,
I speak the truth at work and anonymous emails assail my character, the institutions of the heart continue to dissolve; what I scarcely wanted to believe in becomes every fear I imagined, couching itself in the trappings of human frailty and posture. Tonight I clean a house, washing, sweeping and flossing the most mediocre of tangents in an effort to distill emotion into reasonable order. It does not come, it does not reveal itself and remains the elusive prefect of unattainable delusion. I take interest in how to learn of course, blinding myself to perdition and faith so that this night can pass into the next. The whiskey helps for now but I dread when its effects wear thin and ragged, lament the moment when all blur meets mental arsenal forming unmitigated clarity. My character has a voice built on recompense, meaning there is nothing outside of my soul that can actually disable my compassion. Is that really choice – or is it simply survival?
Travel far and wide reader, reach for the rings that might be impossible, you have nothing at all to lose. There may be a time when all substance levels itself on your head, crashing about your ears as if you were a giant and the mind you use is among the thunderheads; trying to make distance and reason collaborate with unfeeling chemical reaction. Tomorrow I will again awaken to the sun, it’s rise signaling the inevitable birth and instigating the next 24 hours of revolt. I scale sheer facades in time, claw at insubstance and peer into the maw. I will not go gentle into that good night, Old age should burn and rage at close of day, be sure of that from me.
It never sleeps but it never tires,
and it never fades, after all these miles.
And If that's what it costs..... to shoulder it, it should be more than that,
it should be more than that,
how can it not be more more than that?
and if only I could win you away.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
a dram and other measures
slowly and a bit at a time. She got her show and I got the drums. What else is there. So hard to share I guess, in the end tea makes us cozy and the unshared night brings stories fo each other. How many of us have unshared events? DO we continue on in this way making great progress but solitary way? Decompress and perhaps I ponder too much. Whatever. Now I have a mustache, so bring on the night I couldn't stand another hour of daylight. It might have been precious but she is asleep, I have chosen and can feel like a heap. Bring it to me ad never doubt again, jacoby and meyers the little dead hen.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
tones by turns
Long days melting schedules into each other
Like collisions but pre-meditated – likely
I just get worn from one event to another
Graduation, computers, meetings, classes,
Just a shoe or a hat so the day wears me down
Then surprise! A package for me marked
Royal Mail. Hell yes! So this morning I ride to work
Excited by the unknown again – anticipation
Of thought forms and team brick musics.
Stellar and prescient - all for me
So now it’s a good day
Not to be interrupted
If even for 39 minutes
And 69 seconds
hooray
Like collisions but pre-meditated – likely
I just get worn from one event to another
Graduation, computers, meetings, classes,
Just a shoe or a hat so the day wears me down
Then surprise! A package for me marked
Royal Mail. Hell yes! So this morning I ride to work
Excited by the unknown again – anticipation
Of thought forms and team brick musics.
Stellar and prescient - all for me
So now it’s a good day
Not to be interrupted
If even for 39 minutes
And 69 seconds
hooray
Thursday, April 2, 2009
spook country
Went to Denver for a healthy dose of "whats up?!
" and got blizzarded shades found light and dark in the process
- commiserating whole and wet on the floor while
lives got a bit stretched, too thin; and snapped back.
sometimes despite the strongest evaluations
worded testimony to convict the believers and
disbelievers alike does not prevent living with a stranger
. for years.
watching the snow go on down and waiting to
pour a litmus test into the fire.
The snow cooled everything but the sun broke and I was back
in san francisco having bought a book and some canned beer
which I heard they are going to discontinue on economy
flight - depriving me of trying to find some amusing
distraction, a couple hours lost in the air. unproductive.
I crossed a line now and don't see coming back in computerworld.
I have drawn lines between myself and the others.
2 machines that blared LCD glow while I virtualized 2 guest
operating systems working twitter and blipfm gooearth
banking on safe processor overclocking and generic display
driver downloads. confession: I dont do IM. yep I know
but there it is. its too confusing and disruptive for me, (can I flag that as addhdh?) texting sure. that airport book? it was a william gibson paperback.
no problem, and bypassing thefacebook thing too for some of the same reasons
but I do love that wacky tech shtuff.
" and got blizzarded shades found light and dark in the process
- commiserating whole and wet on the floor while
lives got a bit stretched, too thin; and snapped back.
sometimes despite the strongest evaluations
worded testimony to convict the believers and
disbelievers alike does not prevent living with a stranger
. for years.
watching the snow go on down and waiting to
pour a litmus test into the fire.
The snow cooled everything but the sun broke and I was back
in san francisco having bought a book and some canned beer
which I heard they are going to discontinue on economy
flight - depriving me of trying to find some amusing
distraction, a couple hours lost in the air. unproductive.
I crossed a line now and don't see coming back in computerworld.
I have drawn lines between myself and the others.
2 machines that blared LCD glow while I virtualized 2 guest
operating systems working twitter and blipfm gooearth
banking on safe processor overclocking and generic display
driver downloads. confession: I dont do IM. yep I know
but there it is. its too confusing and disruptive for me, (can I flag that as addhdh?) texting sure. that airport book? it was a william gibson paperback.
no problem, and bypassing thefacebook thing too for some of the same reasons
but I do love that wacky tech shtuff.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Speculating on the bad news
My sister set me an email:
Below is a posting from a blogger I follow. I started following him when I got the sense that the real estate market was not going to hold. He's one of those intense workaholic brianiac types who has been working as a money manager. He's done well for himself predicting the collapse of the stock market but this recent posting took it to a whole new level. He is NOT a survivalist. He is a money guy.
Here is the blog entry in it's entirety.
The End of the World . . . As We Knew It
For the last four and a half years, I have been writing, speaking and warning about the consequences of the housing bubble, commercial real estate bubble and the toxic paper that fueled both bubbles. I took a lot of heat for my comments.
I was not shy when I said we were headed for the worst Recession since the Depression. I was not shy when I then began referring to the coming tsunami as a Decession . . . and then in January of 2008, I took the next step and called it what it is . . . a Depression.
Deep VIOLENT Depression - I cannot emphasize this enough . . . and I have already taken heat for using the "V" word. But today I am prepared to kick it up a notch, and urge you to prepare for what is unfolding. Did we think we would have seen the extent of the violence during the Civil War, when we killed each other on our own land? Did we ever think we would have seen the violence that came out of the Depression? Hitler came to power when people lost hope in the government and financial markets. Can it happen again? We said it could never happen then, so now that we are in far worse shape than 1930, why couldn’t something much worse come out of this crisis?
100,000 Protesters - Does the government have any idea how angry people are, how betrayed they feel? It will be years before our economy recovers from the devastation wreaked by bankers. In the meantime, the possibility of something awful happening is very real. We’re one swing of a garda baton, one cracked head, away from chaos. - Gene Kerrigan
This statement could have been written about the United States, England, France, China or just about any country in the world. But for now, it comes straight from The Irish Independent. You didn’t see it on CNN, CNBC or even in any of the American papers. You had better prepare for it, because it will shut down banks, supermarkets and the very fabric of what we are. If you have not built up a food pantry, stored cash and gold, and armed yourself, you might want to consider doing it now.
White House Vegetable Garden - Tom Vilsack, our Secretary of Agriculture, proposed just that. He wants to call it "The People’s Garden," and he wants to establish community gardens at each of the department’s offices around the world. Why? It’s probably not because things are going well. It’s actually in response to a grassroots movement that has been rumbling about the need for us to grow our own food! By the way, vegetable seed sales at Burpee, Gurneys, Park Seed, etc. have been skyrocketing.
How To Avert Disaster - That was the title of a subhead in an article appearing in The Economist. The title was . . . The Bill That Could Break Up Europe. And the article dealt with ways of "stopping the rot" and "the meltdown of the EU." Let me note, there were no solutions and there was no mention of going after the men that created the problems . . . and clawing back the trillions of dollars they have stolen.
CIA Bracing for Global Economic Fallout - The CIA’s primary concern now is the security of the United States in terms of the global economic crisis and its geopolitical implications. Dennis Blair, Obama’s "intelligence czar," told his staff that concerns about the recession were now at the top of his annual worldwide threat assessment to Congress. Leon Panetta, our comical CIA directors, just announced that the CIA was now producing a secret daily bulletin, called the Economic Intelligence Brief.
Hitler Only Won 2.6% of the Vote - In 1929 Hitler was still considered a joke, and he only won 2.6% of the vote and 12 seats in the Reichstag. But just a year later, as the Depression took on steam, Hitler’s Nazi Party won 107 seats in the Reichstag. At that point Hitler’s only promises were to restore prosperity and jobs . . . and to purge the system of profiteers. I am NOT analogizing Obama to Hitler, but I am analogizing the promises of prosperity without paying the consequences for our past action or planning for the future.
Frank and Moose - After the previous paragraph, I think we need this quote. "There are names floating around, and they’re bad. Frank was one of them. Frank! Moose was another one." - Michelle Obama on her veto of the names her daughters suggested for the hypothetical family dog.
Bankruptcy for Vallejo, Phoenix, Dallas, Philadelphia - Vallejo, California has already submitted to bankruptcy. Phoenix is facing a $250M deficit. Dallas $100M. Philadelphia $300M. And New York could be facing a $900M-1.2T deficit next year. Ask yourself this question. If they are facing these deficits now, how bad does it get as tax receipts plunge due to the crushing unemployment numbers? And then ask what happens when receipts plunge, but services to the unemployed in the form of police, fire, medical, food, schools, etc. . . . skyrocket out of control? Instead of going to the doctor, the unemployed/uninsured will go to Emergency Rooms. Instead of going to the grocery store, the unemployed will go to food banks and soup kitchens . . . or worse, they will loot grocery stores. And that, my dear friends, is just the beginning of something too dark to write about.
Banks Rationing Withdrawals - It happened last week in the Ukraine, when banks not only limited withdrawals, but closed their doors altogether. But it can’t happen here, right? Wrong.
$2 Trillion to AIG - We’ve already given them $180 billion with a big B. We received an 80% stake in the company for the first $85B, but we got zippity-doo-da for the next $95B. Moreover, we have no idea what they did with the money, but I hear Goldman Sachs got billions of it from AIG, as well as JP Morgan and other banks that seem to understand the rules on sucking cash out of the system and pumping to guys like King Henry, Lord Blankfein and Prince Jamie. But the real kicker is what AIG is not telling us. As the financial crisis deepens, so does the money AIG needs to pay out. My low estimate is $2T. Unfortunately, if we continue to allow things to melt down, AIG will be on the hook for more than $5T. Strike that. WE, the taxpayers, will be on the hook for $5 trillion . . . or more.
Chinese and Saudi Ties - Last week Chas Freeman was appointed to head the National Intelligence Council. This is a guy that not only has some very strange ties to the Chinese and Saudi’s, but he still has family members and close friends on the payrolls of these countries. If not directly, indirectly. But really now, what’s the difference. Here’s a guy that worked for companies owned by the People’s Republic of China that was investing in the Islamic Republic of Iran. Even though Republicans asked for an investigation into Freeman’s ties to the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia, China and Iran . . . the Obama Administration ignored the warning signals. As if this was not enough, Freeman has been a supporter of how Hamas has handled things, while denouncing Israel for protecting herself. If you think Obama to the Rescue . . . you’d better start looking at the people he is surrounding himself with.
Obama’s Making It Worse - Maria Bartiromo interviewed Jim Rogers, and when she asked, "What do you think of the government’s response to the economic crisis?" he said . . . "Terrible. They’re making it worse. It’s pretty embarrassing for President Obama, who doesn’t seem to have a clue what’s going on - which would make sense from his background."
Jim classically continued . . . "And he had hired people who are part of the problem. Geithner was head of the New York Fed, which was supposedly in charge of Wall Street and the banks more than anybody else. And as you remember, Summers helped bail out Long Term Capital Management years ago. These are people who think the solution si to save their friends on Wall street rather than to save 300 million Americans.
I will close with this quote from Jim Rogers . . . "We’re going to have social unrest in much of the world. America won’t be immune.
Here is my response to my sister:
Hey guys – I love this kind of discussion because it brings us out of our very subjective experience and gives some emphasis to a larger view of what happens around us, without putting us in the position of having to figure out a solution. I have to say that we are certainly at a very interesting place in time right now, where many people are in a situation or environment that they never imagined or worse yet can see something happening that they have no control over, and it’s coming at them like a freight train. I imagine that must be somewhat excruciating right? Seeing your life unravel slowly around you with no way to stop it? I feel for those folks mostly because they have no plan b and never even considered they would need one. The thing that really makes me want to scream echoes what Anne said – the godawful parasites, opportunists and neophytes who use this kind of cultural crisis to promote their own agenda or even willingly take advantage of those who cannot or do not know how to cope. It is truly human behavior at its rock-bottom worst.
I have been seeing a lot of what this guy in his blog is speaking of here (yes even in the financially insulated bubble of SF). At least 6 of my favorite coffee shops and/or corner stores have closed for good, along with all the circuit city’s, most of the blockbusters, and even SF’s famed, Tiki-themed Tonga Room at the Fairmont Hotel looks like it is headed for memory lane. Jaretta and I started to take note of these places at first, but it became a little too depressing. I am not too sad to see the corporate chains go down but at the same time I know that means jobs. Here is a link that reminds me of pictures from one of my favorite depression era photographers, Dorothea Lange (cited in the article) except now the pictures are in color and they are from Sacramento.
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/worldnews/article-1159677/Pictured-The-credit-crunch-tent-city-returned-haunt-America.html
The article mentions that this was shown on Oprah, but I tend to think that somehow marginalizes the issue, kind of giving it that 30 second soundbite authentication; meaning it grabs your attention and then it’s gone – so it goes through your TV screen, so it goes through your consciousness. On that note I also understand what Anne says about the self perpetuation of the bad news. Jaretta gets kind of annoyed at me when I have the computer open to the NYtimes online on my lap while watching the local news. She doesn’t want to hear it, doesn’t think any of it is relevant to what our current subjective daily lives are about. I almost agree, because in working with the SF public schools I have come to realize that almost every policy made to address public or private issues is most often driven by the fear of liability; it’s the damn insurance companies and the lawyers who run this show.
The article written by Mike Morgan is something I have been reading in one form or another for many months now. Each prediction becomes scarily more true, and I do see how many intelligent people are giving credence to the idea that we, as a nation and a culture, are about to go through a sea-change. I think I stand on the side that thinks “I have seen, have lived through times as bad as those growing up. If change is due let it come, you can either shriek and run or think and plumb.” What really stood out the most was one of the comments left on Mike’s blogger page (I am a total sucker for comments) – basically it was a response to another comment where someone claimed Mike was just putting fuel on the fire of fear :
“Cook at home, not go out to eat. Invite the neighbors over for a meal, or several. (You DO know who your neighbors are, don't you?) Build community. Prepare to assist each other, because there won't be much assistance forthcoming from those who have brought us to this point. So, fearmongering? That is literally selling fear. There is no need to sell or buy fear, as there is plenty to go around for free.”
I totally loved that. There is plenty of fear to go around right now, and you can have a slice if you want to, if it shakes you out of your complacency and gets the juices flowing. Just don’t let it influence your decision making process.
My gut says that more people are about to experience a standard of life - a quality of living, that they never imagined they would be visiting in another country; much less living. It says that lots are going to be fearful and impractical and take advantage of whatever opportunities come up, unethical or not. I see many people I know and work with who are basically decent folks, but have been living in a delusion world of false entitlement - entitlement partially shaped by our culture in America and the imagined zeitgeist of unsustainable consumerism. I think there have been many people who have been calling for real and determined change for many decades in this arena, and it now may be happening because there is no place left to go. I hope that the people who speculated unfairly, who knowingly made poor choices or coerced others into them, finally realize that folly and learn. One thing I do agree with in the article (and it just makes common sense if you live in the fault zone out west) stock up on water and seeds and whatever else you might not be able to get if the power goes out.
On a side note; my years of trolling the interwebs have jaded me and I am calling myself out right now. Any of you ever heard of ‘Godwin’s Law”?
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Godwin%27s_law
As soon as I read the word Hitler in the article I stopped taking it seriously, that’s because I have been a part of way too many interweb flame wars, meme-outs, and thread bumpings. That is not to say the guy has some seriously good points, but as far as my experience goes when you start throwing around the ‘H’ word you’ve just invalidated all your previous points intelligent or not.
I love you all very much and I hope my ramblings haven’t put you to sleep, but if so, have a nice nap.
Dave
Below is a posting from a blogger I follow. I started following him when I got the sense that the real estate market was not going to hold. He's one of those intense workaholic brianiac types who has been working as a money manager. He's done well for himself predicting the collapse of the stock market but this recent posting took it to a whole new level. He is NOT a survivalist. He is a money guy.
Here is the blog entry in it's entirety.
The End of the World . . . As We Knew It
For the last four and a half years, I have been writing, speaking and warning about the consequences of the housing bubble, commercial real estate bubble and the toxic paper that fueled both bubbles. I took a lot of heat for my comments.
I was not shy when I said we were headed for the worst Recession since the Depression. I was not shy when I then began referring to the coming tsunami as a Decession . . . and then in January of 2008, I took the next step and called it what it is . . . a Depression.
Deep VIOLENT Depression - I cannot emphasize this enough . . . and I have already taken heat for using the "V" word. But today I am prepared to kick it up a notch, and urge you to prepare for what is unfolding. Did we think we would have seen the extent of the violence during the Civil War, when we killed each other on our own land? Did we ever think we would have seen the violence that came out of the Depression? Hitler came to power when people lost hope in the government and financial markets. Can it happen again? We said it could never happen then, so now that we are in far worse shape than 1930, why couldn’t something much worse come out of this crisis?
100,000 Protesters - Does the government have any idea how angry people are, how betrayed they feel? It will be years before our economy recovers from the devastation wreaked by bankers. In the meantime, the possibility of something awful happening is very real. We’re one swing of a garda baton, one cracked head, away from chaos. - Gene Kerrigan
This statement could have been written about the United States, England, France, China or just about any country in the world. But for now, it comes straight from The Irish Independent. You didn’t see it on CNN, CNBC or even in any of the American papers. You had better prepare for it, because it will shut down banks, supermarkets and the very fabric of what we are. If you have not built up a food pantry, stored cash and gold, and armed yourself, you might want to consider doing it now.
White House Vegetable Garden - Tom Vilsack, our Secretary of Agriculture, proposed just that. He wants to call it "The People’s Garden," and he wants to establish community gardens at each of the department’s offices around the world. Why? It’s probably not because things are going well. It’s actually in response to a grassroots movement that has been rumbling about the need for us to grow our own food! By the way, vegetable seed sales at Burpee, Gurneys, Park Seed, etc. have been skyrocketing.
How To Avert Disaster - That was the title of a subhead in an article appearing in The Economist. The title was . . . The Bill That Could Break Up Europe. And the article dealt with ways of "stopping the rot" and "the meltdown of the EU." Let me note, there were no solutions and there was no mention of going after the men that created the problems . . . and clawing back the trillions of dollars they have stolen.
CIA Bracing for Global Economic Fallout - The CIA’s primary concern now is the security of the United States in terms of the global economic crisis and its geopolitical implications. Dennis Blair, Obama’s "intelligence czar," told his staff that concerns about the recession were now at the top of his annual worldwide threat assessment to Congress. Leon Panetta, our comical CIA directors, just announced that the CIA was now producing a secret daily bulletin, called the Economic Intelligence Brief.
Hitler Only Won 2.6% of the Vote - In 1929 Hitler was still considered a joke, and he only won 2.6% of the vote and 12 seats in the Reichstag. But just a year later, as the Depression took on steam, Hitler’s Nazi Party won 107 seats in the Reichstag. At that point Hitler’s only promises were to restore prosperity and jobs . . . and to purge the system of profiteers. I am NOT analogizing Obama to Hitler, but I am analogizing the promises of prosperity without paying the consequences for our past action or planning for the future.
Frank and Moose - After the previous paragraph, I think we need this quote. "There are names floating around, and they’re bad. Frank was one of them. Frank! Moose was another one." - Michelle Obama on her veto of the names her daughters suggested for the hypothetical family dog.
Bankruptcy for Vallejo, Phoenix, Dallas, Philadelphia - Vallejo, California has already submitted to bankruptcy. Phoenix is facing a $250M deficit. Dallas $100M. Philadelphia $300M. And New York could be facing a $900M-1.2T deficit next year. Ask yourself this question. If they are facing these deficits now, how bad does it get as tax receipts plunge due to the crushing unemployment numbers? And then ask what happens when receipts plunge, but services to the unemployed in the form of police, fire, medical, food, schools, etc. . . . skyrocket out of control? Instead of going to the doctor, the unemployed/uninsured will go to Emergency Rooms. Instead of going to the grocery store, the unemployed will go to food banks and soup kitchens . . . or worse, they will loot grocery stores. And that, my dear friends, is just the beginning of something too dark to write about.
Banks Rationing Withdrawals - It happened last week in the Ukraine, when banks not only limited withdrawals, but closed their doors altogether. But it can’t happen here, right? Wrong.
$2 Trillion to AIG - We’ve already given them $180 billion with a big B. We received an 80% stake in the company for the first $85B, but we got zippity-doo-da for the next $95B. Moreover, we have no idea what they did with the money, but I hear Goldman Sachs got billions of it from AIG, as well as JP Morgan and other banks that seem to understand the rules on sucking cash out of the system and pumping to guys like King Henry, Lord Blankfein and Prince Jamie. But the real kicker is what AIG is not telling us. As the financial crisis deepens, so does the money AIG needs to pay out. My low estimate is $2T. Unfortunately, if we continue to allow things to melt down, AIG will be on the hook for more than $5T. Strike that. WE, the taxpayers, will be on the hook for $5 trillion . . . or more.
Chinese and Saudi Ties - Last week Chas Freeman was appointed to head the National Intelligence Council. This is a guy that not only has some very strange ties to the Chinese and Saudi’s, but he still has family members and close friends on the payrolls of these countries. If not directly, indirectly. But really now, what’s the difference. Here’s a guy that worked for companies owned by the People’s Republic of China that was investing in the Islamic Republic of Iran. Even though Republicans asked for an investigation into Freeman’s ties to the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia, China and Iran . . . the Obama Administration ignored the warning signals. As if this was not enough, Freeman has been a supporter of how Hamas has handled things, while denouncing Israel for protecting herself. If you think Obama to the Rescue . . . you’d better start looking at the people he is surrounding himself with.
Obama’s Making It Worse - Maria Bartiromo interviewed Jim Rogers, and when she asked, "What do you think of the government’s response to the economic crisis?" he said . . . "Terrible. They’re making it worse. It’s pretty embarrassing for President Obama, who doesn’t seem to have a clue what’s going on - which would make sense from his background."
Jim classically continued . . . "And he had hired people who are part of the problem. Geithner was head of the New York Fed, which was supposedly in charge of Wall Street and the banks more than anybody else. And as you remember, Summers helped bail out Long Term Capital Management years ago. These are people who think the solution si to save their friends on Wall street rather than to save 300 million Americans.
I will close with this quote from Jim Rogers . . . "We’re going to have social unrest in much of the world. America won’t be immune.
Here is my response to my sister:
Hey guys – I love this kind of discussion because it brings us out of our very subjective experience and gives some emphasis to a larger view of what happens around us, without putting us in the position of having to figure out a solution. I have to say that we are certainly at a very interesting place in time right now, where many people are in a situation or environment that they never imagined or worse yet can see something happening that they have no control over, and it’s coming at them like a freight train. I imagine that must be somewhat excruciating right? Seeing your life unravel slowly around you with no way to stop it? I feel for those folks mostly because they have no plan b and never even considered they would need one. The thing that really makes me want to scream echoes what Anne said – the godawful parasites, opportunists and neophytes who use this kind of cultural crisis to promote their own agenda or even willingly take advantage of those who cannot or do not know how to cope. It is truly human behavior at its rock-bottom worst.
I have been seeing a lot of what this guy in his blog is speaking of here (yes even in the financially insulated bubble of SF). At least 6 of my favorite coffee shops and/or corner stores have closed for good, along with all the circuit city’s, most of the blockbusters, and even SF’s famed, Tiki-themed Tonga Room at the Fairmont Hotel looks like it is headed for memory lane. Jaretta and I started to take note of these places at first, but it became a little too depressing. I am not too sad to see the corporate chains go down but at the same time I know that means jobs. Here is a link that reminds me of pictures from one of my favorite depression era photographers, Dorothea Lange (cited in the article) except now the pictures are in color and they are from Sacramento.
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/worldnews/article-1159677/Pictured-The-credit-crunch-tent-city-returned-haunt-America.html
The article mentions that this was shown on Oprah, but I tend to think that somehow marginalizes the issue, kind of giving it that 30 second soundbite authentication; meaning it grabs your attention and then it’s gone – so it goes through your TV screen, so it goes through your consciousness. On that note I also understand what Anne says about the self perpetuation of the bad news. Jaretta gets kind of annoyed at me when I have the computer open to the NYtimes online on my lap while watching the local news. She doesn’t want to hear it, doesn’t think any of it is relevant to what our current subjective daily lives are about. I almost agree, because in working with the SF public schools I have come to realize that almost every policy made to address public or private issues is most often driven by the fear of liability; it’s the damn insurance companies and the lawyers who run this show.
The article written by Mike Morgan is something I have been reading in one form or another for many months now. Each prediction becomes scarily more true, and I do see how many intelligent people are giving credence to the idea that we, as a nation and a culture, are about to go through a sea-change. I think I stand on the side that thinks “I have seen, have lived through times as bad as those growing up. If change is due let it come, you can either shriek and run or think and plumb.” What really stood out the most was one of the comments left on Mike’s blogger page (I am a total sucker for comments) – basically it was a response to another comment where someone claimed Mike was just putting fuel on the fire of fear :
“Cook at home, not go out to eat. Invite the neighbors over for a meal, or several. (You DO know who your neighbors are, don't you?) Build community. Prepare to assist each other, because there won't be much assistance forthcoming from those who have brought us to this point. So, fearmongering? That is literally selling fear. There is no need to sell or buy fear, as there is plenty to go around for free.”
I totally loved that. There is plenty of fear to go around right now, and you can have a slice if you want to, if it shakes you out of your complacency and gets the juices flowing. Just don’t let it influence your decision making process.
My gut says that more people are about to experience a standard of life - a quality of living, that they never imagined they would be visiting in another country; much less living. It says that lots are going to be fearful and impractical and take advantage of whatever opportunities come up, unethical or not. I see many people I know and work with who are basically decent folks, but have been living in a delusion world of false entitlement - entitlement partially shaped by our culture in America and the imagined zeitgeist of unsustainable consumerism. I think there have been many people who have been calling for real and determined change for many decades in this arena, and it now may be happening because there is no place left to go. I hope that the people who speculated unfairly, who knowingly made poor choices or coerced others into them, finally realize that folly and learn. One thing I do agree with in the article (and it just makes common sense if you live in the fault zone out west) stock up on water and seeds and whatever else you might not be able to get if the power goes out.
On a side note; my years of trolling the interwebs have jaded me and I am calling myself out right now. Any of you ever heard of ‘Godwin’s Law”?
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Godwin%27s_law
As soon as I read the word Hitler in the article I stopped taking it seriously, that’s because I have been a part of way too many interweb flame wars, meme-outs, and thread bumpings. That is not to say the guy has some seriously good points, but as far as my experience goes when you start throwing around the ‘H’ word you’ve just invalidated all your previous points intelligent or not.
I love you all very much and I hope my ramblings haven’t put you to sleep, but if so, have a nice nap.
Dave
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
rant but whatever
I joined facebook out of guilt, and it just figures that everytime I log in I feel like it's barking direction at me, telling me I need to jello-shot-the-frog-card-and-save-the -gift-of -environment-blah-etc-blah. Luckily I am very good at ignoring everything. I must admit I had my finger on the nuke my account button after the fifth invitation to describe 25 random things I could be lying about or just being an imp and fabricating another parallel life edition for the y generation thingy. Whatever, I know it means something to people who mean something to me. So now it's like guilt by proxy or some such shite.
In any case I was working with an LG cu920 VU phone - installing a 2GB sodimm - installing software on the Dell/Vista notebook so it could be a potential MP3 unit - carrying a library of music I mostly have never heard. Hours were spent and still nothing happened.Such is the world of tech and the demons they bring. The demarcation for lots of us is the terminology - right? Is it a media player or an ipod? Is it a notebook or a laptop? a flashdrive or a USB stick? for the love of the earth is it a phone or a PDA??! I love you, and care not a whit for what it's called, I just want to make it mine by turns and screws.
In any case I was working with an LG cu920 VU phone - installing a 2GB sodimm - installing software on the Dell/Vista notebook so it could be a potential MP3 unit - carrying a library of music I mostly have never heard. Hours were spent and still nothing happened.Such is the world of tech and the demons they bring. The demarcation for lots of us is the terminology - right? Is it a media player or an ipod? Is it a notebook or a laptop? a flashdrive or a USB stick? for the love of the earth is it a phone or a PDA??! I love you, and care not a whit for what it's called, I just want to make it mine by turns and screws.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)