The Myth of Independence

Nigel just reminded me that it is the anniversary of this blog. I’m pretty sure we’re talkin’ six years here. And somehow it has survived. Granted it was on it’s deathbed for quite awhile as I was feeling oppressed by trolls. But for now they’ve gone away and the underside of my bridge is (for now) a cool and shady place to hang out by the water again. Apparently I can’t flourish well in sunlight being forced off my own little, slice of heaven, real estate. I assume they’ll show back up. I’ll cross my bridge when that comes to it.

Here’s the thing about “Independence” day; we only gained that independence by being able to depend on people like Lafayette (ergo countries like France). There is no real independence especially in the modern world. The Randsian ideal of the self-made man is a complete myth. If Howard Roarke designed, built and engineered a skyscraper all by himself, with his bare hands, using tools he made himself, I’d like to see it.

Especially in this era of specialization. The right hand has no fricking clue how the left hand does it’s job, only that it passes the piece over to be finished also not knowing what that will entail.

If you think you can survive without anyone or anything please walk naked and weapon less, with not one supply, into the woods right now, stay there completely alone and cut off for ten years and when you come out I promise we’ll give you a book deal.

*Oh did I also mention only people who spontaneously arose fully formed, and were never suckled, nurtured or taught, need apply.

It is risen

I got me a fresh sheet of virtual paper and I roll it into the carriage...

I think I’ve been sick of typing. I’ve even found it difficult to effectively do e-mail, and that is one of the few ways to reliably get ahold of me. The FaceBook, 2-3 sentences and I’m out, has been de rigeur around here.

It was a really harsh winter around La cerise de chateau, maison du fumeur de detente. So right now forsythia is like the breath of the atman made manifest on earth.

I had a really, tremendously, bad bout of infection that started just before Thanksgiving. For the most part I missed all the holidays. On Thanksgiving itself I was too sick to even walk next door. About a week of 104 fevers. Since then it’s been a long, slow, road back.

I popped into UBU’s one of the very first good days, that was a good thing, getting out, into town, having lunch. Now I have have to pop back and give him back the books I bought as well as a few additional. I find myself in the market to get rid of, in some cases sell, books. That is something I’ve never been good at at all. It feels pretty free to be in a place where I can let a book go deliberately as opposed to losing it.

I’m ready to let more things go.
I have started sorting out anything I don’t have a pretty legitimate claim on to be sent back. I’m watching the hoarders and I don’t want to be there or leave that for someone else to deal with. Keep the precious and let the chaff blow away. That’s the new mantra. There will be a porch sale this year.

Hey Danny Boyoyo redux

The problem with publishing my poetry here is that it changes.
It's been close to two years since I first put this up. Now it's different, possibly better. I hope the link (in the title) actually works. It's my first time trying this...

Now we are 4

Today is the anniversary of this here beast. I get a fresh page too. (I start a new word-processing document every three months). Perhaps that will help the clean slate and reflecting process.

I have learned some serious stuff since I blithely jumped on the blog bandwagon. If anyone here recalls, I hadn’t even started college yet waaaay back then. As well as that I have been through a gamut of emotional, physical, personal, personnel, job, and psychological changes in these four years. I can safely assert, quite strenuously, that I am really not the same person I was then. Except for the part where I am even the same person as I was when I was seven. As evidenced by a linked haiku I wrote then called “Haikus of War and Pollution”. Of course it wasn’t technically haiku but the point is still apparent.

I could go into great depth about the strange and frequently painful growth and change I’ve been through lately, but instead I guess I should speak on my current relationship to this space. I’m really struggling with keeping this going. I guess I have learned that I am not as interested in transparency as I once thought I was. It really only took one snarky ass to precipitate major rearmament. I am a person without skin. This attempt to lay aside some of the layers of collected hides has been difficult. Really difficult. Forget “if you prick me do I not bleed”, I’m a constant oozer.

I don’t know where we’re going now. I am trying to find the right level of opacity in the bandages I’m applying. Maybe not so much wanton displaying of the ragged, gaping, wounds. Some prodding of sores but perhaps not open-heart surgery. Laudable pus is desirable, lately I’ve been festering, and there’s a detectable whiff of rot.

Shucks and sucks

I am writing a paper, between today and Friday. It gets all, you get none. Even my earworms are all just me lately, so no loss there.
I am, however, verging, all up on, my 1st, vanity press, chap style, poetry book. So that probably gets next priority, probably over us.
Oh, and parties, I have decided that I am, w/out fail, going to every single party, dinner and lunch I am invited to this year. So far one lame party and one, fun happy hour friends band viewing, down, 8 parties and dinners, 3 anticipated lunches to go. I am in DESPERATE need of socialization. I am so very striking some hot iron before the bucket dip.

More Avoid-dance

So while I’m NOT working on my paper (The Duty Of Dissent), or my final exam, I should finally say something about the blog meltdown we experienced earlier this summer.
In retrospect I think this partially explains it.
I graduated in May. Then there was this crazy, crazy, crazy scene with Uncle Bunny about the moving to Houston, as well as his aide going kookoopuffs whackjob. Suddenly I had to completely step in and finish this weird karmic thing we have had in this huge burst of total frenzy-ness. (If you notice he left on August 9th). And the band kinda fell apart too.
And suddenly my identities were gone.
This thing with Uncle Bunny had been going on over 10 years. The skool thing was really intense for 3 years and I REALLY identified with being the great and wonderful Oz, I mean student.
So I just think I had a bit of a blind sided, dis-corporation. I am all incorporated now. Knock on a polyvinyl or whatever keyboard...
And if anyone is curious, Uncle Bunny claims to be doing OK, despite getting there just in time for the crazy hurricane and no power for something like 14 days.

Yes it’s true

We have rolled over the old odometer. I was trying to see if I could suddenly manufacture the necessary 22 more posts to match 999 to the 9999. I knew that was an automatic fail though...
So, am I going to have to assume that somewhere around 3000 of those hits are actually me?

New link whoopty-ness

As always, I actually know this person, as well as that he’s a pal. Please welcome to the blogroll “Dissociated Press”.-------->

What’s up with WA?

I know my friend Barfy reads me from there, but what is with the Seattle, Tacoma, Bellingham, Snohomish and one or two others showing up recently?

No promises, and knock on simulated wood veneer...

But, maybe, I’m back.

It is still rough, ruff, ruffe, but I feel a little less paralyzed in all lobes of my monkey mind.

Sorry for the freakout/bailout but that’s what happens when your blogger has “issues”. One of which is literally overwhelming anxiety from it being an election season. Man, do I have a hard time processing all that shite. It’s as if it has the properties of a big, sticky wad of suffocating, smeary, putrid, plasticene. And then it’s as if it was shot straight into my mainline just clogging up all my functions and trying to beak apart my heart. Why does it always have to be in fall when I am already struggling through a major seasonal affective shift? As well as why are people such little bitches about it all?

Oh yeah...

The other thing I was feeling too wierd lately to mention at the time, are several new links over there -------->. I put the new band’s myspace (rough demos so far), as well as more of myfacespacebook stuff of my own. But most notably is Flor y Canto by El Poquito. It is new age, it is about healing, acceptance and death and yet it doesn’t make me retch at all, in fact it doesn’t even make me cringe. Actually, I must even go so far as to say I really, deeply, appreciate it. But that shouldn’t surprise me as it’s written by one of the most genuine, and truly altruistic people I’ve yet known.

Slappy Mirthday

So yeah, today is the birthday of this blog. There was recently a conversation between my bro, sis, and dad about how stupid blogs are if they are about anything but a point of expertise, such as politics, sociology, weather, I don't know, whatever, in other words about oneself. My interjection was that I try to make it a point to NEVER talk about anything relevant. I suppose that me is my only point of expertise. They do say write what you know. I have put a lot of dedicated man hours into the old “know thyself”.

But I thought it would be interesting at his juncture to insert my first entry for review just to make sure I remember the mission statement which was quite a bit more cocky and punk rock then.

“Ahem....

So it arose and it was scary to do. But I plunged, as one must, without really testing the waters.
The actual title is "The Sunday Morning Subtle But Obvious Organized Self Abuse Swim Club". And yes, apparently I snagged it before any of the people that were there at the time did, at least around this cyber location. Not that I would mind hearing from any of you who were there, even briefly, at Stoners Blough, Michigan.

I do want to make something abundantly clear:
I never took a proper English class past 7th grade, and while just recently I have been learning some grammar fundamentals, due to having taken up a new language, other than it being helpful to learn the proper names of parts of speech in order to learn a different grammar, I don't care.
My spelling is decent, my punctuation is primarily, self invented. I write a lot of songs and poetry where I get to make it up as I go along. At least in my belief system I get to make it up. If your belief system tells you differently, well, that's nice for you.
I have also never taken a proper science or math class since 7th grade, again, I'm making it up as I go along.

I understand that there are people who just have a really hard time with that, that's nice, you're entitled to be rigid or secure or confident or enjoy whatever comforts those systems bring you. I have a bit more of a "by the seat of my pants" approach.
Which is actually kind of ironic as I never wear pants, unless you're English, in which case I almost always do.

The point being if there is some fascinating discourse to be had, fun, swell, and hoopty-do, but I really don't want to discuss my punctuation and grammar with almost anyone, the notable exceptions being my former or current English teachers.”

So that was the extent of my plan at the time. To write what and how I wanted and to apparently prevent any future discourse about at least the mechanics of it all.

And a slappy mirthday to Nige as well.

888th post

So this is it, the confluence I was mentioning before. I am posting this in time for my 8888th visitor. Also in a few days is the anniversary or birth date of the blog. It’s July 4, which is oddly, also the birth date of Nigel Patel’s blog. Only his is a year older than mine. Which if I’m not mistaken makes his coming up on 4 and mine coming up on 3, years old.

Nigel and I have many strange confluence's ourselves, then we will discover some (usually point of ideology) where we could not be more divergent. But he never rolls his eyes at me like the former roommate when this arises. Nor does he seem to take offense when I laugh WITH his interesting perspectives, never at.

But it is odd to think that when I started this blog that I hadn’t started school yet, and that few of my readers knew me before I was such a whiney cripple. I used to be much more vibrant you know.
The moral, of course being, don’t expect greatness from doctors especially surgeons who for the most part are overpriced plumbers.
As well as that good art and bad art are completely and irrevocably subjective and can never be proved definitively at all. That as long as someone made it, it’s art. And that, my friends, is the ONLY thing that counts.

Roll Up! Roll Up!

So I suppose I’ll be drawing your attention to the newest link over there ------->
Which would be where Mr. Nigel Patel has asked me to contribute some thoughts on the condition of the working stiffs.

So, as opposed to chanting down Babylon we’ll be chatting it up.

Note: (You also might be amused to note that because I no longer have letter designations left on about half my keys, that just typo’ed as “charring it up” which is an eventual option as well.)

Did it

Yup, Yup, prepare for the golden age

Shades of Hades

OK I’m going to try to do something very tricky and apocalyptic. I’m going to try to get my 6 hundreth sixty sixth post to coincide with my 6 thousandth, 6 hundred and sixth hit.

OK OK already

I admit it I have been nose deep in books, yes actual books, lately. At school they’ve got me reading Aristotle’s “Nicomachean Ethics” and if you don’t think that’s as thick and chewy as it gets you’d be wrong. Then in addition I went to the Kerrytown bookfest and spent WAY too much and added another stack to the perpetual “needs reading” pile. Following which I went to UBU’s bookstore and added another bundle. I have just about finished a Rod Serling collection which offered up a bunch of nice horror I’ve never run across before, including a really cool Nathaniel Hawthorne. As well as an incredibly dark, weird, apocalyptic story by Jane Roberts. I have to wonder if it’s “my” Jane Roberts, as in the author of the Seth material. The time frame is certainly right.

There is also the fact that we now have internet on only one computer for awhile and the demand for my lap box has gone way up. So basically these are excuses for why I suck. Pictures this weekend I promise.

Blame it on the boogie

Blame everything on the yard sale
No really. It really is it’s fault. It put me so far behind in everything:
School reading
Housework (and created extra)
Bill Paying
Eating properly
Blogging

I have had to just get my hyper-focus on all week and put my life back together. So that’s that and that’s all done. Now I have to go uptown and try to undue some of the damage neglecting the bills has done. I may have lost my safe deposit box. That would really suck.....

i haven’t even had time to read the newspaper since Sunday. I keep buying ‘em, they keep piling up, maybe tomorrow.....

Tonawanda

OK I will 'fess up. I have actually been online every day of the trip but I have so many pictures I want to post I’ve been too overwhelmed to get anything up yet. I LOVE my new camera (a gift from Dali). It holds 300 pix. I think I’ve taken 800 already and have been working on them everyday - sorting, cropping, throwing away, etc.

We all made the decision to leave a day early. After Dad’s 57th H.S. reunion picnic we’re hitting the border and zooming back ASAP. Hopefully Kimmelwick and horseradish in hand. We’ve been having some difficulty finding it as of yet. Today’s the day, we WILL find the weck!

“Gamin’ On Ya”

So does anyone know what the deal is with this “Blog Shares” game? I find it really odd. It’s both gratifying and nerve-wracking to be included. (Really dumb, as it’s completely meaningless). I think it feels like a judgment issue. Like strangers are looking and evaluating. Which of course is stupid because that is exactly what happens all the time when someone comes in looking for Diana Rigg, or why keflex smells, or funklips, or self abuse which are the most common searches. Most people are here 0 seconds. Why doesn’t that make me feel judged? And even though you are valued not by content but by incoming links. I have done the “what are you worth” meme/quiz thing and it turns out my blog is worth more than I am. So in the spirit of being both weirded out and titillated by this phenomena please feel free to link me if you haven’t already, it increases my value.