Been under the wire and not on it. On something else.
Finally hooked into the grid through DSL. Will start writing again soon. Someday.
Wednesday, October 05, 2005
Untouched
Wednesday, August 31, 2005
Waimanalo
Moving the house today. Well, moving the stuff that was in it, out of it. The "Office" in Palolo will be turned over to the person that most likely grew the marijuana that I was kicked out for. My daily recommended dose of irony.
The fleas are starting to explode on the rug. I will leave it for the new tennent.
Sunday, August 14, 2005
Uparound 070
Hyperlink Party....
(click on the underlined text: toy surprise inside)
My faith in humainty renewed
The yang to that yin
If it doesn't fit, it's time to quit the bullshit
Suckers
Friday, August 12, 2005
Evidence
Warped Culture
The whole Left/Right Red/Blue Right/Wrong thing comes across as soft core S&M. The Right like to spank, and the Left love to cry about being spanked.
The most vociferous of both teams aren't getting good love. People that have good sex lives don't get so wound up over the prescibed media distraction.
Who wants to climb into bed with the spankers and the crybabys? Other spankers and crybabys. It's incestuous empty sex where no one connects. This way we can rant off into another day of spanking and crying.
There is a world beyond good and evil.
This is a postcard from there.
Tuesday, August 09, 2005
Poser
A NEW AND IMPROVED PREDJUDICE!
Reply to: anon-90001633@craigslist.org
Date: 2005-08-09, 2:04PM PDT
I've done a thurough examination of the subject and am now ready to diagnose:
What you are suffering from is paradigmal schizophrenia.
There is the old dichotomous reality of good-evil, right-wrong. The people that still adhere to this paradigm are sensing that their time is up, and so they are naturally thrashing around and gnashing their teeth in the anguish of no longer being relevant.
There is the new paradigm of wholism that has been dawning in the mainstream for over a hundred years now. There are the ones that recognise that the body of humanity (and for the advanved minded: all life) is one whole body. Including the thud brained dichotomists.
Then there are the paradigmal schizzos that like the idea of unity and oneness, but can't resist engaging the paleo-humans in verbal shit hurling. This too shall pass.
I once was predjudiced against our idiotic brothers and sisters until I realized that I was merely reacting to my own profound ignorance that I saw reflected in the thud beings. I resist no more. I accept the idiots as a part of a natural process. But I try not to engage them, lest I wrap myself up in their tar baby contagion.
'Tis better to lead the children through example than to try and beat them into submission.
"It is an ill wind that blows no minds"
Re:A NEW AND IMPROVED PREDJUDICE!
Reply to: anon-90009865@craigslist.org
Date: 2005-08-09, 2:40PM PDT
Shut the fuck up pants thing.
Narcisus
Spiritual Awakening in my Pants...
Reply to: anon-89705100@craigslist.org
Date: 2005-08-08, 10:07AM PDT
Spiritual Awakenings are not uncommon happenings when my Pants are around. My Pants are so powerful one need not actually see them in person to be deeply affected. One can merely gaze at an image of my pants to recognise the unity of all.
The Chineese want my Pants to mass produce them and sell them to latinas of all sizes.
The Suicide Girls want in my pants for they have none of their own.
Looking at my Pants on LSD can be like having an interdimensional passport.
Breasts, fake or real, big and small, are instantly entered into a state of grace in the presence of my Pants.
My Pants are never lonely,
Never predjudiced
Never angry
Never flakey
My Pants love you. All of you. Idiotic and snide alike.
My Pants have recently visited your city and, in spite of the hit and run, still loves LA and all it contains.
My pants are with Miguel right now, and he is fine.
A special place in my Pants...
Reply to: anon-89729156@craigslist.org
Date: 2005-08-08, 11:34AM PDT
Why all the fighting? My Pants are dismayed by all the senseless quibbling. My Pants know better than any other that the left and the right should reconcile their differences and yield to that place that is between them. That place in between is useless if the left and right cannot walk togeather.
Pants Post
Reply to: anon-89755174@craigslist.org
Date: 2005-08-08, 1:15PM PDT
Men: Underware is for amateurs.
To all of you "CL Celebs"
Reply to: anon-89836723@craigslist.org
Date: 2005-08-08, 7:56PM PDT
Ok, so you're quite obviously comfortable with putting your personality on a public forum. (Some of you a little more comfortable than is necessary but that is what this area of the site is about.) I highly doubt that R&R alone fills your need for anonymous attention. Chances are you post
elsewhere, have a blog, or are on myspace/friendster. Since you’ve put so much work into your profile there, might as well share it with the rest of us.
This goes especially for those catty rivals UGH and Gymgirl. (Less for UGH because, like most good-looking women, she doesn’t constantly talk about her looks.) And Mr. PROUD pedo, why not show us those “family snaps” you’ve got floating around in cyber space, FP could post their IMDB page etc, etc. Pants guy need not apply.
ok, the pants
Reply to: anon-89849811@craigslist.org
Date: 2005-08-08, 9:20PM PDT
they aren't great art, more like something out of a high school art class. The remarks aren't witty, funny, intelligent, moving, or scathing, more like something out of a high school student's head.
And the poetry.... it isn't even mediocre.
Yes, we are all free to post, create, do, say what we want and I don't usually post in tones criticizing others. There is enough of that in the world and certainly on here. But you just keep posting them! I'm not that nice! At some point even mother theresa would have stood up and said: No! they are not so great as you think! (ok, granted she had far better things to do than post on CL, or, I imagine, even to read CL).
I can't tell if you mean them to be cheesy and are trying to be all tongue in cheek. If so, mix it up a little. Show your wit has greater bounds than the same theme over and over (and over and over and over!).
If they are art.... Please, study the subject. Maybe you think only artists less talented than yourself need to study. No, you do too. Even the great artists in history apprenticed.
The Coalition to Flag the Fagg with the crappy pants.
Reply to: anon-89853434@craigslist.org
Date: 2005-08-08, 9:46PM PDT
I was born in the ghetto so I'm no art critic, BUT I KNOW THE SHIT YOU'RE POSTING IS NOT ART.
the pants postings
Reply to: anon-89862860@craigslist.org
Date: 2005-08-08, 11:08PM PDT
can we stop now? i thought they were bitchin and the guy was intelligent and cute, but can we stop with the narcissistic talking pants?
You've had enough, I've had enough...
Reply to: anon-89879603@craigslist.org
Date: 2005-08-09, 5:03AM PDT
Maybe I over did it a bit with the pants. Maybe I'm just getting started. But who are the vitriolic and fickle hall monitors that decide "That's enough"...
I was't pretending to be making art with my pants or posts. Just seeing what kind of climate the LA CL has. Prolific pedantry, repetitive dogma. Passionate in the arbitrary. Some sweet people, but mostly arrogant opinionated word vultures just looking for someone or something to pick at.
After surfing the snideness for a couple of days I find myself wanting to say "fuck you, you small minded miscreants" to some fairly random people that have decided to hog a public message board.
The corporations took our airwaves, and the simple minded are flushing their mental tampons down one of the last bastions of free speach.
I'm retireing the pants and retireing from the futility of LA CL.
Rock on party people.
Re:You've had enough, I've had enough...
Reply to: anon-89914604@craigslist.org
Date: 2005-08-09, 8:32AM PDT
Typical liberal
RE: You've had enough, I've had enough
Reply to: anon-89923360@craigslist.org
Date: 2005-08-09, 9:04AM PDT
good riddance,your stinking,non-underwearing ass has got to go,your pants look like something my kid finger-painted in kindergarten,btw those pimples on your ass? are from not wearing underwear and not washing your pants...stay in wisconsin,dude we dont need you here
Sunday, August 07, 2005
Solitude
My Pants: Chapt. 3 (Hellenback)
Reply to: anon-89592920@craigslist.org
Date: 2005-08-07, 6:55PM PDT
After years of an intimate relationship, it became clear that the pants and I were going to have to redefine our relationship. The Pants were wearing thin. Beyond the Sharpies, I had taken to patching holes, at first with canvas and denem, then I used satin and velvet. We would no longer be able to spend the days with each other in the field. The daily abuse the pants were subjected to had taken its toll.
My Pants: Chapt. 3
In spite of the fancy fabrics, retirement loomed in the near future. The pants felt like they were just beginning to mature, just coming into its own. The pants refused to die in silence. They ralied and determined to strike out into the world on their own...
Stay tuned to Chapt. four: The Phoenix
Waialae Lanes.jpg
Rod: the Angelyne of CL
Reply to: anon-89401051@craigslist.org
Date: 2005-08-06, 3:39PM PDT
LA ex-pat here. I now live elsewhere. Morbidity calls me to check in with the purgatory of my twenties. Calling me like heroin and nicotine.
Rod is the Angelyne of CL.
Famous person needs to look up the etymology of the word famous.
I have a strong feeling that I am not the only one that scrolls down to click on the posts with "pic" on the end.
Gymgirl is the new up and coming; but will she out last Gymdad?
Rant and Rave: The Ignorant vs. the Snide
Rod: the Angelyne of CL
Reply to: anon-89405826@craigslist.org
Date: 2005-08-06, 4:13PM PDT
Let's be totally LA... where'd you get your pants, dude??? And do you want to have an awesome long-distance relationship with me? I'm single!
My Pants...
Reply to: anon-89412282@craigslist.org
Date: 2005-08-06, 5:01PM PDT
I think my pants have a shot at the big time. I didn't become a famaous person in LA. But my pants... I think they have a shot. Any pant agents out there want to develop a sit com around them?
My Pants...
Reply to: anon-89416095@craigslist.org
Date: 2005-08-06, 5:29PM PDT
Run it past me and we'll see what comes up.
My pants: their story (and a sexy pic)
Reply to: anon-89416643@craigslist.org
Date: 2005-08-06, 5:34PM PDT
Chapter 1: Plural name for a single garment.
My pants were born to poor garment workers in the late 90's. The garment workers had so many other pants to deal with that they were forced to ship our hero off to a retail outlet in hopes that someone would love them as much as they. My pants then ended up in a ranch supply store in Great Falls Montana. A elderly drug dependancy councellor found these pants matched the measurements of an aspiring tree trimmer living in Honolulu. She bought them and shipped them off. Here is where I first met my pants. I was crazy about them. They were a little stiff at first but I didn't mind, I actually liked them that way. I stopped wearing underwear about that time and my pants and I became very intimate. I love my pants. We have been togeather for over four years now and are very happy togeather.
Stay tuned for Chapter 2: How my pants found their own identity.
My Pants: Chapt. 2
Reply to: anon-89427458@craigslist.org
Date: 2005-08-06, 6:59PM PDT
My pants, after a moderate time of use, found themselves stained and worn. I talked with my pants about this for some time. I told my pants that they were still my favorite. Sometimes I would wash them then let them air dry so that they had a little of that stiffness that was there in the beginning. My pants became depressed anyway. Sitting at a bus stop one day, I remembered a buddhist line about "turning poison into medicine" and I pulled a Sharpie out of my pocket and turned the stains into designs. My pants were very happy. They actually began to enjoy getting stained, knowing that the Sharpies would redeem the blemish into a beautiful icon. This pant bliss went on for some time. Then, tragedy struck...
Stay tuned for Chapt. 3: The loss of integrity
Monday, August 01, 2005
YOSO 24
YOSO 041
Originally uploaded by Dark Sevier.
Though I ridicule and speak disdainfully of dichotomy, I still can appreciate it's function and beauty. There is a beauty in black and white photography though the over all tone comes across as grey in most. The function of quick and easy dicernment can come in quite handy in a pinch, but if relied upon too much it leaches away vitality and ones capacity for subtlty.
Portland
Portland 023
Originally uploaded by Dark Sevier.
A friend once told me: "Kids grow up in spite of their parents." I thought that was reassuring. I inserted this concept into the musing on my own experience of growing up. Saw it had validity as far as I was concerned.
Saturday, July 02, 2005
What did you say to me?
Fractals 001
Originally uploaded by Dark Sevier.
Yhatzin thontaleezer fehrhabin duntica levero monduska melintaezs kintop gunterlingo sota junkulay flistern haazs cinkalopes polisitcal jizinka sumpet olistra viluustnak.
Tuesday, June 28, 2005
Hello
Splitch
Originally uploaded by Dark Sevier.
Hello People...
Hello people that are reading this at a job they are not that passionate about.Hello narrow minded racist people.Hello googly eyed new messiahs that think you are the only one that gets it.Hello yet-to-be-discovereds.Hello to the cosmically minded that have nothing to prove.Hello livestock of the corporate herdsmen.Hello victims of American Politics.Hello ladies ;)Hello Psychic Warriors.Hello Writers.Hello Sexual Deviants.Hello Acid Head (yes- YOU!).Hello lonely people.Hello burn-outs.Hello to the cognitively facile.Hello psychically atuned.Hello upsetters.Hello concerned citizens.Hello puppets of addiction.Hello dictators.Hello neurotics.Hello lovers.Hewo to those whose development was stunted.Hello seekers.Hello finders.Hello losers.Hello to the Taoists that would never call themselves such.Hello freaks.Hello chingworts.Hello sufferers.Hello outlaws.Hello children.Hello ancients.Hello poets that don't know it.Hello people of the realm.Hello...
Sunday, June 12, 2005
What am I doing?
Getting excited about the move. This is accelerating my dream of having a job that allows me to tinker all day.
I'm restructuring the business. I am creating a "modular landscaping" retail outlet in addition to the wholesale aspects. Plant combos that inhibit weed growth- all in the same pot. Crotons and gigantea,yellow peanut under ti plants, spicata grass in with gardenia starts. I will essentially be cutting down an arboretum and putting it in pots. Thousands and thousands of pots.
"It's the wild west out here. Just say what you want to do and let's do it. We're wide open to suggestion."
Say's my friend Gene. He's one of the founders of the non-profit orgaization IKOH (Invisible Kingdom of Humanity). They have a farm in
Waimanalo where I'm considering moving my considerable nursery stock. It would be like painting five acres with living pigments. I have pinks, greens, yellows
purples, oranges. Yellows too. Reds. I'm framing an experiment in sustainability with my experiment in
landscaping-as-stewardship.
So. In a nut shell: watching the mystery unfold before me and watching that I don't get in its way.
Wednesday, June 08, 2005
Tuesday, June 07, 2005
Blue
How about the misunderstood and mentally deficient? The miserable who refuse to climb out of the pit of intollerance, the savage-tempered in the land of arrested development. Drops of ink in the glass of clear discourse.
Those, and the sabateurs of free media. Low rent clones of the "leader" of the free world. More like bleeder. Bubble poppers and wheel wedgers. Trolls taking tolls on the bridge of understanding, discouraging free movement of ideas by squatting with their vitriol in the path of exploration.
God damned cry babys with nothing to offer in the exchange but parroted rhetoric from the discredited and hypocritical.
And then there are the people that engage that level of idiocy. Stop patronizing the attention whores. Introduce yourself. Offer up your skills and act to re-route around the shit in the road and stop reacting to it. We need mature discourse. I am asking you for it.
Thanks in advance.
Concerned Citizen
Saturday, June 04, 2005
Ostrich, Dog, Pig, Cock
Ostrich
Presumably, an ostrich that lived in Montana squeezed this egg out about six years ago. I bought it, already blown empty, for $10.00. I had it shipped to O'ahu when I moved here. It broke in the shipping. I glued it back togeather again. While waiting for my daughter Zoe to be born, I spent the evenings gluing colored chicken egg shells into a big blue circle.
Dog
A few years later, I am living in a tent in Kahalu'u. The dog of my friend and neighbor, Jason, ate a dozen of my chicken egg works. A few days later I noticed that the ostrich egg was missing. I imagined that it was stolen. A few weeks later, my friend Jason discovered it while weed whacking his property. Tell tale tooth marks in the blue mosaic incriminated the dog. Statute of limitations and lack of witnesses kept us from prosecuting. It broke again. I was not as gentile as the dog. The broken pieces were stacked inside the larger pieces and packed for a move to Palolo. Some pieces had adhered themselves togeather when the jungle moisture softened the glue. I was unable to separate them.
Pig
Pigs run amok on my nursery at night. Sometimes they run amok in my dreams. One morning after dreaming of pua'a I walked to the drive to find Kolohe the dog chewing on a wild pig head. I took it from him and put it in the compost barrel to extract the bones. Bones cleaned, I pulled it out to wash and let dry. Kolohe the dog retrieved it and chewed it to pieces. I gathered the pieces and put them in a can. Later, while looking for a container in which to mix plaster, I decided to mix the bones in the plaster and poured it into the ostrich egg, then shaped it back to its original egg shape. Continued the mosaic.
Cock
In the Year of the Rooster, a rooster shows up on the land. In my four years on the property I never seen cock nor hen. A neighbor on the land decided to take it upon himself to cull the fowl lest their progeny spoil the morning birdsong. It's the cocks year. He has eluded, escaped, and thwarted his hunter, though he has lost a couple of his harem to this war. I found a few fresh eggs near my compost pile and ate them. I then used the shells on the ostrich mosaic.
A project that spanned the segue of two centuries, the mosaic was completed on may 29th, 2005.
Presumably, an ostrich that lived in Montana squeezed this egg out about six years ago. I bought it, already blown empty, for $10.00. I had it shipped to O'ahu when I moved here. It broke in the shipping. I glued it back togeather again. While waiting for my daughter Zoe to be born, I spent the evenings gluing colored chicken egg shells into a big blue circle.
Dog
A few years later, I am living in a tent in Kahalu'u. The dog of my friend and neighbor, Jason, ate a dozen of my chicken egg works. A few days later I noticed that the ostrich egg was missing. I imagined that it was stolen. A few weeks later, my friend Jason discovered it while weed whacking his property. Tell tale tooth marks in the blue mosaic incriminated the dog. Statute of limitations and lack of witnesses kept us from prosecuting. It broke again. I was not as gentile as the dog. The broken pieces were stacked inside the larger pieces and packed for a move to Palolo. Some pieces had adhered themselves togeather when the jungle moisture softened the glue. I was unable to separate them.
Pig
Pigs run amok on my nursery at night. Sometimes they run amok in my dreams. One morning after dreaming of pua'a I walked to the drive to find Kolohe the dog chewing on a wild pig head. I took it from him and put it in the compost barrel to extract the bones. Bones cleaned, I pulled it out to wash and let dry. Kolohe the dog retrieved it and chewed it to pieces. I gathered the pieces and put them in a can. Later, while looking for a container in which to mix plaster, I decided to mix the bones in the plaster and poured it into the ostrich egg, then shaped it back to its original egg shape. Continued the mosaic.
Cock
In the Year of the Rooster, a rooster shows up on the land. In my four years on the property I never seen cock nor hen. A neighbor on the land decided to take it upon himself to cull the fowl lest their progeny spoil the morning birdsong. It's the cocks year. He has eluded, escaped, and thwarted his hunter, though he has lost a couple of his harem to this war. I found a few fresh eggs near my compost pile and ate them. I then used the shells on the ostrich mosaic.
A project that spanned the segue of two centuries, the mosaic was completed on may 29th, 2005.
Tuesday, May 31, 2005
Arts@Marks Opening...
The show is up. The opening: Fri. June 3rd. 5pm - 9pm
The Artists:
Christopher St.John
Devin Mohr
CJ Lileikis
Jesi Asagi
Dark Sevier
Trying an experiment with this show and Rich has been very supportive of my pretentious attempt to not be a pretentious artist.
Is it a plant? or is it art? Living sculpture?
Carson came up with the idea of a secret bid on my work at the gallery as an option to pricing them. I have a minimum reserve price (super secret). Highest bidder over the reserve takes home the piece. Highly unusual.
The Artists:
Christopher St.John
Devin Mohr
CJ Lileikis
Jesi Asagi
Dark Sevier
Trying an experiment with this show and Rich has been very supportive of my pretentious attempt to not be a pretentious artist.
Is it a plant? or is it art? Living sculpture?
Carson came up with the idea of a secret bid on my work at the gallery as an option to pricing them. I have a minimum reserve price (super secret). Highest bidder over the reserve takes home the piece. Highly unusual.
Monday, May 23, 2005
Life and Death 198
Cleaning today. Scrounging through found objects and deciding which ones to loose.
I have found several property options: Big spread on North Shore- no rent and no living on the land. There is the slaughterhouse in Ewa. Negotiating rent. Comes with trailer office (within squeeling distance). Possibility of cooperating with the Fuel Farm- planting biodesel crops between the rows of trees.
Found a dead Jackson Chamelion keiki on the walk today. Looked into the hibiscus archway to find the parents. Recuited them for a photo shoot then put them back. I brought the female in from the nursery a year ago and parked her there. A few months later I found a male and hooked them up.
I havent seen either one of the Jake-the Frogs. There is a skinny toad that hangs where Jake usually does.
I have found several property options: Big spread on North Shore- no rent and no living on the land. There is the slaughterhouse in Ewa. Negotiating rent. Comes with trailer office (within squeeling distance). Possibility of cooperating with the Fuel Farm- planting biodesel crops between the rows of trees.
Found a dead Jackson Chamelion keiki on the walk today. Looked into the hibiscus archway to find the parents. Recuited them for a photo shoot then put them back. I brought the female in from the nursery a year ago and parked her there. A few months later I found a male and hooked them up.
I havent seen either one of the Jake-the Frogs. There is a skinny toad that hangs where Jake usually does.
Life and Death 191
Sanguin fastle yunde heppin ontwot anglesa hundenquat. Genda hawerghuntin fecelope junctwada hippen uncalat justin muterde kappha junction whatsyer function.
Sunday, May 22, 2005
Clutch...
Hanging on an island, watching with cool detatchment as the Nation that fostered me lists and burns. Feeling too far away to throw a rope to those that are trying to jump and swim before the hulk sinks and sucks them in, down and fast. Straining my eyes to see who will make it.
Like watching the History Channel live.
The wall is coming and I'm expecting to hear the breaks lock, have been expecting for a surreal amount of time. Fuck it. It's too late. The breaks would only jacknife this circus train. The wall will be ignored. I consider how the wall will feel about this.
I open a brightly collored bag with crunchy bits inside and soothe myself by eating them.
Like watching the History Channel live.
The wall is coming and I'm expecting to hear the breaks lock, have been expecting for a surreal amount of time. Fuck it. It's too late. The breaks would only jacknife this circus train. The wall will be ignored. I consider how the wall will feel about this.
I open a brightly collored bag with crunchy bits inside and soothe myself by eating them.
Shift
Saturday. Rain. Sleep. A visit from Griz. Coffee. Sculpture work. Pizza. Shower. Bowling. In the dark. Drinking. More than all stated above.
Thursday, May 19, 2005
Shameless Self Promotion
Look at what I did.
June 3rd @ Marks Garage on Nuuanu in China Town dist. of Honolulu Hawai'i. Planet Earth (you know, the noisy planet).
The calceum sculptures, the bonsai xeriscapes, the mobiles, the book, the CD, the band.
In a group show with four others (Info on other artists posted here tomorrow).
The opening will be from 6pm to 10pm. There has been talk about a post opening opening where people can talk to the artists on a night less hectic than First Friday.
artfarmphotobloggingranterofnoeticinfluence
Stay tuned for more details.....
June 3rd @ Marks Garage on Nuuanu in China Town dist. of Honolulu Hawai'i. Planet Earth (you know, the noisy planet).
The calceum sculptures, the bonsai xeriscapes, the mobiles, the book, the CD, the band.
In a group show with four others (Info on other artists posted here tomorrow).
The opening will be from 6pm to 10pm. There has been talk about a post opening opening where people can talk to the artists on a night less hectic than First Friday.
artfarmphotobloggingranterofnoeticinfluence
Stay tuned for more details.....
Monday, May 16, 2005
Bud Humbug
I'm a big fan of the cognitive process. I enjoy using my cognition. Using my cognitive abilities I was able to solve many a riddle posed by the times. One of the simplest and earliest victories was gaining objectivity on a gestalt that emerged from the Great Marajuana Hoax. I saw that there was no actual crime in growing, selling, smoking, eating, or trafficking marijuana. Yet it was still against the law and considered criminal activity. It was considered criminal activity because it was against the law, not because there was any actual crime in the criminal activity. Got it? Isn't the root of the word criminal; crime?
The funny thing is, most of the cognitively facile have recognised the hoax and now ignore or laugh at the absurdity of it. Except maybe the ones that sit in prison for not playing along with the hoax. They might be laughing too, if they are able to ignore the laws liberally enough.
The hoax is so retro man, so 1950's, so Spanish Inquisition. It's not a game for intellegent people. It's a paranoid, fear based, oppressive, monster-in-the-closet kind of game. Boo! the Blue is gonna getcha! It's like tag, but with tazers and bullets. Fun fun fun.
Watching people who are still involved with the hoax can be entertaining, especially the ones that don't know it's a hoax. The slower people that never thought to ask WHY marijuana is illegal are the funniest to me. They're like kids in high school still believing that Santa puts those presents under the tree. It is difficult not to mock them. I endeavor to handle myself gracefully when engaging the grossly ignorant. I don't feel that it does anyone any good to make fun of the mentally retarded. I've tried telling those people about the hoax, but it was like pecking a hole in an egg that had an unrealized chick inside. I felt good for getting through to them until I realized they were still too gooey to handle the implications. Crack open a bunch at once and one can drown in the goo. Dangerous stuff, that goo.
There be an Art to talking to entities through their shells. Pod People live in the unreality of words: they know the words, but know not what inspired them, or spoke them. Until they break out of the shell of self absorbtion, they have no point of reference on the actual territory beyond their encapsulated perceptions, but may know the names and features of the symantic map by heart. Not uncommon for Pod People to think the map is the territory, the menu is the meal, the property is the land. God it's funny. KS (knee slapper).
How about those people that have realized the criminalization of a natural plant to be an absurd notion, but don't claim their cognitive victory for fear of being ostricised by the foolish. "The retard said I was an idiot for not believing in Santa anymore. Now he makes fun of me, and I am in need of a sanctioned drug so that I can interact with those retards with a straight face." Wacky people. Zany.
When are we gonna play a game that isn't so cold? Preserving people in zip-lock personalities. How about a warm game that accelerates the gestating cognitivity of the species? Then we can communicate with life directly, outside the prescribed. Hilarious.
The funny thing is, most of the cognitively facile have recognised the hoax and now ignore or laugh at the absurdity of it. Except maybe the ones that sit in prison for not playing along with the hoax. They might be laughing too, if they are able to ignore the laws liberally enough.
The hoax is so retro man, so 1950's, so Spanish Inquisition. It's not a game for intellegent people. It's a paranoid, fear based, oppressive, monster-in-the-closet kind of game. Boo! the Blue is gonna getcha! It's like tag, but with tazers and bullets. Fun fun fun.
Watching people who are still involved with the hoax can be entertaining, especially the ones that don't know it's a hoax. The slower people that never thought to ask WHY marijuana is illegal are the funniest to me. They're like kids in high school still believing that Santa puts those presents under the tree. It is difficult not to mock them. I endeavor to handle myself gracefully when engaging the grossly ignorant. I don't feel that it does anyone any good to make fun of the mentally retarded. I've tried telling those people about the hoax, but it was like pecking a hole in an egg that had an unrealized chick inside. I felt good for getting through to them until I realized they were still too gooey to handle the implications. Crack open a bunch at once and one can drown in the goo. Dangerous stuff, that goo.
There be an Art to talking to entities through their shells. Pod People live in the unreality of words: they know the words, but know not what inspired them, or spoke them. Until they break out of the shell of self absorbtion, they have no point of reference on the actual territory beyond their encapsulated perceptions, but may know the names and features of the symantic map by heart. Not uncommon for Pod People to think the map is the territory, the menu is the meal, the property is the land. God it's funny. KS (knee slapper).
How about those people that have realized the criminalization of a natural plant to be an absurd notion, but don't claim their cognitive victory for fear of being ostricised by the foolish. "The retard said I was an idiot for not believing in Santa anymore. Now he makes fun of me, and I am in need of a sanctioned drug so that I can interact with those retards with a straight face." Wacky people. Zany.
When are we gonna play a game that isn't so cold? Preserving people in zip-lock personalities. How about a warm game that accelerates the gestating cognitivity of the species? Then we can communicate with life directly, outside the prescribed. Hilarious.
Fowl Play
According to the Chinese I am a Monkey. Year of the Monkey just passed. I spent it in the jungle, climbing trees surrounded by bananas. Year of the Cock now. Year of the Horse was a couple of years ago. New years Day in the year of the Horse I found myself peeking through Jasons window and watching this random horse show up and run around the Kahalu'u farm. A Rooster was sighted running around the Palolo Nursery not long after the year crowed in. It had a three hen harem. Neighbor Slim thrown into a frenzy by the poential progeny shattering the morning birdsongs. I thought it auspicious that a rooster should arrive on its namesake year. Slim tried poisioning the birds by throwing rat poison in my media pile. The pile I use to grow my plants. On my organic nursury. It didn't work. Tried trapping. They caught it. Later, it escaped. They tried trapping again and caught rats that chewed holes in the traps to get out. Slims son shot and killed one with an air rifle. I found five eggs near my non-poisoned compost pile. I ate them. Now I wished I'd let them hatch. I'm rooting for the cock.
I lied..................
There is a hyperlink in the "OUT" entry that takes you to a 45 day special edition blog: The Year of the Cock. This will be a record of my transition from PATCO land to the next realm of endeavor. The Year of the Cock will have one page only. I will be revising it daily. I may retract. I may add. I might embellish. There will be hyperlinks coming and going, refrencing the reader back to this blog and to... other places. A blog with one page and a web of six billion hyperlinks. Give or take a few. There is a story here. Somewhere.
Sunday, May 15, 2005
Curbside 048
Adrift. Loose. Kinda. Loose and adrift with a barge of stuff in tow. Was evicted from the "Office" today. Was givin no real reason. I was told that I have 45 days to vacate. The people told me that I have 45 days to find another "office" to live in, find another place to place my entire two acres of nursury plants, plus I want to dig out the thousands of plants that I have growing as field stock. Actually, they just told me to get out. I have no idea if they thought about what that would entail.
Ok. so, anyone have a few acres that they want converted into an experimental organic commercial wholesale nursury? Any one wanna buy some plants? Bargain Priced. Everything must go.
So I'll be having a work party, or two, in June. Need volunteers for a worthy cause.
Ok. so, anyone have a few acres that they want converted into an experimental organic commercial wholesale nursury? Any one wanna buy some plants? Bargain Priced. Everything must go.
So I'll be having a work party, or two, in June. Need volunteers for a worthy cause.
Friday, May 13, 2005
Kolohe.jpg
I will call Michael Ventura one of my favorite all time writers. He's saying it like no one else is saying it right now. I wouldn't call it pessimism. I wouldn't call it realism. I'd call it relevent.
Thursday, May 12, 2005
"The Office"
--- jackhaid@XXXXXXX wrote:
> Dark Lord- I don't have you mixed up Dark
> Meadowlark! You're a poet, yes? I KNOW things,
> dig? As for death threats, there are none coming
> from me- I don't live in the eight oh five. As long
> as you keep your hands of my stash there will be
> none in the future, either. Now, to get to the
> important stuff, Figgis is out for your scalp.
> Literally. He learned his technique from a
> throw-back Creek living in the woods of Cherokee
> County, Oklahoma around about 1979. He's just
> itichin' to try it out for the first time since
> Desert Storm, and he seems to have you in his
> sights. Why do you continue to push his buttons?
> So here's what you do: grab some Maui Wowie, catch
> a flight to Boise, rent a motorcycle and drive to
> Portland where you will meet Figgsey at his
> refurbished farm house outside of town (you know the
> one-remember how Horst worked you over?), hand over
> the transcript, and be sure to apologize. He'll ask
> you to spend a day in his sensory deprivation
> tank-DO IT-and thank Jesus and his henchmen that
> your brain is not showing. A day in the box is
> worth eggroll, understand? If not, I suggest you
> barricade yourself as if waiting out a tropical
> storm and lay off the high-grade cocaine for at
> least a week. Shave your eyebrows, wear an ascot,
> grow a van dyke and change your name to Julien.
> I'll check on your progress with the water works in
> 4-7 days.
>
> It's JackHaid,
> one word.
>
> Don't let Figgis know you split my name in two.
>
> -----Original Message-----
> From: Dark Sevier
> To: jackhaid@XXXXXXX
> Sent: Fri, 6 May 2005 16:09:37 -0700 (PDT)
> Subject: Re: Flattery will get you a ticket to the
> hash bar, dig?
>
Ok. jackhaid. Player of games. I don't know from Figgis. Actually, I don't know anything. I'm but a simple tree farmer living in a shack in the jungle. For some reason someone named Allan Dodds in the 805 wants to kill me. He says he has a gun and that it's looking for me. Maybe it's the gun that wants to kill me and Mr. Dodds is just his cheauffeur. Maybe it was a wrong number.
At any rate. I don't play games any more. I just play one game. It's fun to retreat from the mundane life of the 9 to 5 (or the 805) and slip into a safe little fantasy where one finds things interesting and titilating because the prospect of mystery and the literary product of fantasy juice the imagination. It looks like you have a nice little fiction dirivitive of the pulp percolating in your pc. Well good luck with that. I hope you find it entertaining. It seems that I prefer the exchange of genuine smiles and the wrangling of errant dreams that have come to life and returned to root around in my new seed beds.
Cut the shit. Talk straight or return to your online gaming lifestyle. My life is far more interesting than your fantasy. So there. Nyahhh.
-D
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
> Dark Lord- I don't have you mixed up Dark
> Meadowlark! You're a poet, yes? I KNOW things,
> dig? As for death threats, there are none coming
> from me- I don't live in the eight oh five. As long
> as you keep your hands of my stash there will be
> none in the future, either. Now, to get to the
> important stuff, Figgis is out for your scalp.
> Literally. He learned his technique from a
> throw-back Creek living in the woods of Cherokee
> County, Oklahoma around about 1979. He's just
> itichin' to try it out for the first time since
> Desert Storm, and he seems to have you in his
> sights. Why do you continue to push his buttons?
> So here's what you do: grab some Maui Wowie, catch
> a flight to Boise, rent a motorcycle and drive to
> Portland where you will meet Figgsey at his
> refurbished farm house outside of town (you know the
> one-remember how Horst worked you over?), hand over
> the transcript, and be sure to apologize. He'll ask
> you to spend a day in his sensory deprivation
> tank-DO IT-and thank Jesus and his henchmen that
> your brain is not showing. A day in the box is
> worth eggroll, understand? If not, I suggest you
> barricade yourself as if waiting out a tropical
> storm and lay off the high-grade cocaine for at
> least a week. Shave your eyebrows, wear an ascot,
> grow a van dyke and change your name to Julien.
> I'll check on your progress with the water works in
> 4-7 days.
>
> It's JackHaid,
> one word.
>
> Don't let Figgis know you split my name in two.
>
> -----Original Message-----
> From: Dark Sevier
> To: jackhaid@XXXXXXX
> Sent: Fri, 6 May 2005 16:09:37 -0700 (PDT)
> Subject: Re: Flattery will get you a ticket to the
> hash bar, dig?
>
Ok. jackhaid. Player of games. I don't know from Figgis. Actually, I don't know anything. I'm but a simple tree farmer living in a shack in the jungle. For some reason someone named Allan Dodds in the 805 wants to kill me. He says he has a gun and that it's looking for me. Maybe it's the gun that wants to kill me and Mr. Dodds is just his cheauffeur. Maybe it was a wrong number.
At any rate. I don't play games any more. I just play one game. It's fun to retreat from the mundane life of the 9 to 5 (or the 805) and slip into a safe little fantasy where one finds things interesting and titilating because the prospect of mystery and the literary product of fantasy juice the imagination. It looks like you have a nice little fiction dirivitive of the pulp percolating in your pc. Well good luck with that. I hope you find it entertaining. It seems that I prefer the exchange of genuine smiles and the wrangling of errant dreams that have come to life and returned to root around in my new seed beds.
Cut the shit. Talk straight or return to your online gaming lifestyle. My life is far more interesting than your fantasy. So there. Nyahhh.
-D
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Tuesday, May 10, 2005
Flitch
The photos have little or nothing to do with the entries. Except that last line I typed there. It has something to do with the photos. I like irony. Sometimes.
Right now I am thinking about an ex and how she needs to be spanked. How she wants to be spanked. It's the rare time when people who have dealt with her before will deal with her again, and when they do- inner spanking restraints are tested thoroughly. It's how she gets her human interaction. She yanks it toward her with question mark hooks which she sinks into unguarded psychies. Draw the suckers in with questions about them, about what they think about this and that. Then it's about what you think of her and her decisions, and her quandries and dramas. And it's about what you think about how someone else might have reacted to someting she said in passing but has been obsessing on for a week now. And later, you will become that person in a conversation she has with someone else. She will ask someone else about what they think you thought when she said someting some time ago. And that person might offer up an opinion about you, someone they never knew, and then she will take the arbitrary and enshrine it as a fact with her emotional reaction. Then there will be a misunderstanding. Then the questions fly and the hooks snag the sensitive and concerned and lessons on psychic self defence are burned into the virgin spaces of good samaritans.
Right now I am thinking about an ex and how she needs to be spanked. How she wants to be spanked. It's the rare time when people who have dealt with her before will deal with her again, and when they do- inner spanking restraints are tested thoroughly. It's how she gets her human interaction. She yanks it toward her with question mark hooks which she sinks into unguarded psychies. Draw the suckers in with questions about them, about what they think about this and that. Then it's about what you think of her and her decisions, and her quandries and dramas. And it's about what you think about how someone else might have reacted to someting she said in passing but has been obsessing on for a week now. And later, you will become that person in a conversation she has with someone else. She will ask someone else about what they think you thought when she said someting some time ago. And that person might offer up an opinion about you, someone they never knew, and then she will take the arbitrary and enshrine it as a fact with her emotional reaction. Then there will be a misunderstanding. Then the questions fly and the hooks snag the sensitive and concerned and lessons on psychic self defence are burned into the virgin spaces of good samaritans.
Monday, May 09, 2005
Saturday Bowling
Went bowling saturday night with the Vapor Puppets and Sister Karrie. We bowled three games. I won none. I enjoyed hurling an exceptionally round heavy object down an extrordinarily smooth solid surface. I would do it again.
Sunday, May 08, 2005
Trying this now
Dead rat caught by my cat.
So, the co-ordination of words and images is a new thing for me. I uploaded a few pictures yesterday that I can then upload to this site. I hit my freebie quota. I uploaded 30 photo's from this weekend. I can't post any new photos 'til next month. so, for the month of May, the theme is bowling and xeriscapes.
I think I may have to start another blog. I
So, the co-ordination of words and images is a new thing for me. I uploaded a few pictures yesterday that I can then upload to this site. I hit my freebie quota. I uploaded 30 photo's from this weekend. I can't post any new photos 'til next month. so, for the month of May, the theme is bowling and xeriscapes.
I think I may have to start another blog. I
Kokua Xeriscape.jpg
Ok... I'm trying this photo thing out. Not sure what I'm doing yet. Bear with me...
Saturday, May 07, 2005
Friday, May 06, 2005
--- jackhaid@XXXXXXXX wrote:
> Darkie- The factory called. Figgis needs his
> goods. Without goods the factory stalls. As you
> know, this means no production, no income, no flow
> charts. I know that Figgis is about as funny as
> Fred Travolina on low grade meth, but he calls the
> shots, goddamnit, and I for one am not up to facing
> him down on the judo mat. I seriously doubt you are
> either. Unless, of course, your self-help guru has
> taught you how to better defend yourself as well.
> But sentimentality is for twerps, so don't thump my
> ball-bag-sack for the next 10-15 days. For that
> matter, don't ever come near it again unless you
> want glass shards to shower down upon you causing
> various forms of disfigurement. I scored a lid of
> the high-power today and I feel as if I'm hovering 3
> centimetres above the ground while hurtling through
> an endless garden of psychedelic dasies- I am
> becoming ever more able to appreciate the beauty and
> enjoy the freeing feeling of the goddamned
> hallucinatory splendor. Can you dig it? I mean
> really? My girlfriend, who you may know as either
> Margaret or Elsie-Karin, thinks I need to cool out,
> quit burning down, and maybe travel to Austin for
> some much needed R and/or R. I think she's been
> seeing her Yage connection again, and that maybe her
> spectral plane and mine are deviating just a bit.
> Agree? Anywho, let me know what you think, where
> your mind is right now, and maybe we can keep in
> touch and try to freak each other out occasionally.
> Sound good? I thought so.
>
> Yours in mutual distrust,
>
> JackHaid,
> blistered.
>
>
> P.S. Don't underestimate Figgis, Darkson, don't
> do it. He'll shave your nails beyond the quick and
> dunk them in Dawn in honor of that fucker Madge.
> Okay?
>
zxzxzxzxzxzxzxzxzxzxzxzxzxzxzxzxzxzxzxzxzxzxzxzxzxzxzxzxzxzxzxzxzxzxz
Testing...
Um, Thanks for the e-mail Jack Haid, or Alan Dodds, or whoever you are. Are you the same person with the 805 area code that gave me the death threat this morning? If so, I'm flattered that you consider me worth that kind of time and energy: I know that that kind of thing takes up a lot of head space. If you are not the same person, then I guess a door to the odd house worked it's way open this month and I'm a popular stop for the escapees.
Anyhoo, nice prose. The names don't ring a bell though. You made a lot of statements that look nice togeather, but I wonder if you don't have me mixed up with some other Dark. It looks like someone has been reading Hunter S. Thompson. I advise tking some Vitamin C, drinking lots of water, and getting some rest. Thanks for playing.
-D
> Darkie- The factory called. Figgis needs his
> goods. Without goods the factory stalls. As you
> know, this means no production, no income, no flow
> charts. I know that Figgis is about as funny as
> Fred Travolina on low grade meth, but he calls the
> shots, goddamnit, and I for one am not up to facing
> him down on the judo mat. I seriously doubt you are
> either. Unless, of course, your self-help guru has
> taught you how to better defend yourself as well.
> But sentimentality is for twerps, so don't thump my
> ball-bag-sack for the next 10-15 days. For that
> matter, don't ever come near it again unless you
> want glass shards to shower down upon you causing
> various forms of disfigurement. I scored a lid of
> the high-power today and I feel as if I'm hovering 3
> centimetres above the ground while hurtling through
> an endless garden of psychedelic dasies- I am
> becoming ever more able to appreciate the beauty and
> enjoy the freeing feeling of the goddamned
> hallucinatory splendor. Can you dig it? I mean
> really? My girlfriend, who you may know as either
> Margaret or Elsie-Karin, thinks I need to cool out,
> quit burning down, and maybe travel to Austin for
> some much needed R and/or R. I think she's been
> seeing her Yage connection again, and that maybe her
> spectral plane and mine are deviating just a bit.
> Agree? Anywho, let me know what you think, where
> your mind is right now, and maybe we can keep in
> touch and try to freak each other out occasionally.
> Sound good? I thought so.
>
> Yours in mutual distrust,
>
> JackHaid,
> blistered.
>
>
> P.S. Don't underestimate Figgis, Darkson, don't
> do it. He'll shave your nails beyond the quick and
> dunk them in Dawn in honor of that fucker Madge.
> Okay?
>
zxzxzxzxzxzxzxzxzxzxzxzxzxzxzxzxzxzxzxzxzxzxzxzxzxzxzxzxzxzxzxzxzxzxz
Testing...
Um, Thanks for the e-mail Jack Haid, or Alan Dodds, or whoever you are. Are you the same person with the 805 area code that gave me the death threat this morning? If so, I'm flattered that you consider me worth that kind of time and energy: I know that that kind of thing takes up a lot of head space. If you are not the same person, then I guess a door to the odd house worked it's way open this month and I'm a popular stop for the escapees.
Anyhoo, nice prose. The names don't ring a bell though. You made a lot of statements that look nice togeather, but I wonder if you don't have me mixed up with some other Dark. It looks like someone has been reading Hunter S. Thompson. I advise tking some Vitamin C, drinking lots of water, and getting some rest. Thanks for playing.
-D
Thursday, April 21, 2005
I'm dirty and I don't care.
I have no one to clean up for tonight. My place is a mess. I'm a mess. The Big Island job is almost through. By noon tomorrow. Made a couple of planters before the sun set. My nails are dirty and I'm eating trail mix with them. Have a gig at UH tomorrow. Earth Day with the Vapor Puppets. I feel crazy. Amped. Need to relax but I look at all the projects and I am drawn to them like a magnet to steel. Did the plants, then made a salad, then typed this while I ate. The writing project. the mobile project is in my periphery and calling me. But I'm too tired to really produce an effect with the artifacts. A cigarette keeps oscillating through my mental field. old habit calling. I don't answer. I would lie down but I have to clean up. Had a bucket of dirt spill over my sweaty head. I really need to get a hot water heater soon.
Ok . I will clean up and chill out. I'll try relaxing and see what that feels like.
I have no one to clean up for tonight. My place is a mess. I'm a mess. The Big Island job is almost through. By noon tomorrow. Made a couple of planters before the sun set. My nails are dirty and I'm eating trail mix with them. Have a gig at UH tomorrow. Earth Day with the Vapor Puppets. I feel crazy. Amped. Need to relax but I look at all the projects and I am drawn to them like a magnet to steel. Did the plants, then made a salad, then typed this while I ate. The writing project. the mobile project is in my periphery and calling me. But I'm too tired to really produce an effect with the artifacts. A cigarette keeps oscillating through my mental field. old habit calling. I don't answer. I would lie down but I have to clean up. Had a bucket of dirt spill over my sweaty head. I really need to get a hot water heater soon.
Ok . I will clean up and chill out. I'll try relaxing and see what that feels like.
Wednesday, April 20, 2005
Ok. I'm impressed with myself again.
The artwork for the June show @ Marks Garage flows melifluously across my workstation, spilling its castings all over the rest of my life. A happy mess. The Vapor Puppets project blossoms like a desert cactus. Very sudden and quite unexpected.
Woke up late today. Had the tuesday night session @ the Kaiser studios in beautiful downtown Enchanted Lake. Blake came in and threw down a couple of numbers with the band. There was a shotglass loaded with muscle relaxants on the keyboard. I resisted them most of the night, but the beers relaxed my resistance to the lure of the pills and I took one. An hour later I was in a perpetual lean toward the horizontal. Blake and I grabbed a couple of kinda-philly-cheesesteaks at the Late Night Pizza lunch wagon. I dropped blake at Evno's and careened home to bed. Slept
Didn't want to get up this morning though I woke up at 7:30. Tino come in at 9:00 and we had ice coffee. Then I threw some whisky in the glasses. Tino played with the bass a bit and I played Vapor Puppet CD's. 10:00 we're loading shower trees on Betty. Griz shows up. We talk a bit. Resolution to the irritation is desired by both parties. 82 trees on Betty. We stop @ Ono Pono's for lunch and to drop off a plant. Put trees in container on Middle Street. Put another 50 trees in back at the farm. Back at the office Tino takes a Salvia break and looks at an Escher book. "Great name for an emcee to have," says Tino. I had an adult cookie. Back to Ono Pono to pick up Compost. Pick up Cee. Stop at Coffee Talk to grab the grounds and water the plants. Take Cee to pick up a J. Go to Kapi'olani Park for Sebastians 1st birthday. See Blake again. He missed his flight today. Shawzy called and told me to meet her at the Olive Garden. I show and listen to a man rant on the corner. He's angry. It has something to do with a woman, betrayal, and rich people. The belly dancers arrived and we ate and celebrated the marrage of Shawzy and Jerimai. Big surprise. Simone married them on the mountain while they were hiking yesterday. I ate feta and tomatos and olives and grape leaves and whatever was in them. Drank wine. Had pomegranite juice. Shared backlava with Roxanne. Decided right there to be kinder to my palate. Hanging with french people will do that to ya. Carrye was making a hat. Red and black. Had to have it. Stopped at Coffee Talk on the way home to juice up for this session. Cee was there. I read the paper then interrupted Cee's process of writing his thesis to rant about the Space Station. I've decided to go with the Mooirish style ranch house over the Jack Russell terrier design.
Somewhere in there I realized that the Vapor Puppets have a spot at 1:45pm @ at the Earth Day gig. I have to wrap up the Big Island tree order early. I don't have the crew to do it. Expecting calls in the morning. drinking whisky now. because it's here. And so am I.
The artwork for the June show @ Marks Garage flows melifluously across my workstation, spilling its castings all over the rest of my life. A happy mess. The Vapor Puppets project blossoms like a desert cactus. Very sudden and quite unexpected.
Woke up late today. Had the tuesday night session @ the Kaiser studios in beautiful downtown Enchanted Lake. Blake came in and threw down a couple of numbers with the band. There was a shotglass loaded with muscle relaxants on the keyboard. I resisted them most of the night, but the beers relaxed my resistance to the lure of the pills and I took one. An hour later I was in a perpetual lean toward the horizontal. Blake and I grabbed a couple of kinda-philly-cheesesteaks at the Late Night Pizza lunch wagon. I dropped blake at Evno's and careened home to bed. Slept
Didn't want to get up this morning though I woke up at 7:30. Tino come in at 9:00 and we had ice coffee. Then I threw some whisky in the glasses. Tino played with the bass a bit and I played Vapor Puppet CD's. 10:00 we're loading shower trees on Betty. Griz shows up. We talk a bit. Resolution to the irritation is desired by both parties. 82 trees on Betty. We stop @ Ono Pono's for lunch and to drop off a plant. Put trees in container on Middle Street. Put another 50 trees in back at the farm. Back at the office Tino takes a Salvia break and looks at an Escher book. "Great name for an emcee to have," says Tino. I had an adult cookie. Back to Ono Pono to pick up Compost. Pick up Cee. Stop at Coffee Talk to grab the grounds and water the plants. Take Cee to pick up a J. Go to Kapi'olani Park for Sebastians 1st birthday. See Blake again. He missed his flight today. Shawzy called and told me to meet her at the Olive Garden. I show and listen to a man rant on the corner. He's angry. It has something to do with a woman, betrayal, and rich people. The belly dancers arrived and we ate and celebrated the marrage of Shawzy and Jerimai. Big surprise. Simone married them on the mountain while they were hiking yesterday. I ate feta and tomatos and olives and grape leaves and whatever was in them. Drank wine. Had pomegranite juice. Shared backlava with Roxanne. Decided right there to be kinder to my palate. Hanging with french people will do that to ya. Carrye was making a hat. Red and black. Had to have it. Stopped at Coffee Talk on the way home to juice up for this session. Cee was there. I read the paper then interrupted Cee's process of writing his thesis to rant about the Space Station. I've decided to go with the Mooirish style ranch house over the Jack Russell terrier design.
Somewhere in there I realized that the Vapor Puppets have a spot at 1:45pm @ at the Earth Day gig. I have to wrap up the Big Island tree order early. I don't have the crew to do it. Expecting calls in the morning. drinking whisky now. because it's here. And so am I.
Saturday, April 09, 2005
I'm not impressed.
I used to be pretty impressed with myself. Not so much these days. I think I psychically herniated myself when I decided that I was going to build that space station. I haven't even started the thing yet.
I haven't been keeping up the blog. I've been buisy working-on/stressing-about my nursury. Been raining for the past two weeks. A centepede bit me on Thursday, so I've been incapacitated for the past two days. I endured the pounding in my foot to drive to Kailua for the Vapor Puppet session last night. Took pain pills and drank whisky. Played a waterphone in a spacy soundscape.
Had a dream last night that I started introducing myself to people as John Sybian, and asked them to remember me on election day. I told people I was running for court clerk. I scooted around some mall/office complex on a footstool that made flatulant like noises when I scooted it just the right way. This made an impression on a number of older Japanese ladies that I asked to remember me.
In another dream I was running down a steep city street and jumped high in the air. The hill became almost vertical as I jumped and I soared a great distance before falling through a tree into a coutyard. My landing was eased by the son of a restaraunt owner. I thanked him, then noticed a cord that ran up into the sky. High above was a white pirate/space ship anchored over the city.
Stopped dreaming around Noon. My foot felt like it had been run over by a truck when I stood up. So, I stayed in bed. Carson left some peanut butter and sliced apples by the bed with some apple juice. So I ate and started reading Eckart Tolle's The Power of Now. I read to page 23. It's not very funny. I think I've had enough of these humorless spiritual teachers. I need a punchline. He'breakes it down: People think too much and not creatively enough. A neurotic species. No kidding. I recieved 4 e-mails from my ex today. 4. Today. Apparently I need more humility. I need to grow up. And something else... Oh yeah, I need to "be the enlightened man that I pretend to be." Eckart Tolle says of enlightenment:
"the word enlightenment conjurs up the idea of some superhuman accomplishment, and the ego likes to keep it that way, but it is simply your natural state of felt oneness with Being."
He also says:
The inability to feel this connectedness gives rise to the illusion of separation, from yourself, and from the world around you. You then perceive yourself, consciously, or unconsciously, as an Isolated fragment. Fear arises, and conflict within and without becomes the norm
I used to be pretty impressed with myself. Not so much these days. I think I psychically herniated myself when I decided that I was going to build that space station. I haven't even started the thing yet.
I haven't been keeping up the blog. I've been buisy working-on/stressing-about my nursury. Been raining for the past two weeks. A centepede bit me on Thursday, so I've been incapacitated for the past two days. I endured the pounding in my foot to drive to Kailua for the Vapor Puppet session last night. Took pain pills and drank whisky. Played a waterphone in a spacy soundscape.
Had a dream last night that I started introducing myself to people as John Sybian, and asked them to remember me on election day. I told people I was running for court clerk. I scooted around some mall/office complex on a footstool that made flatulant like noises when I scooted it just the right way. This made an impression on a number of older Japanese ladies that I asked to remember me.
In another dream I was running down a steep city street and jumped high in the air. The hill became almost vertical as I jumped and I soared a great distance before falling through a tree into a coutyard. My landing was eased by the son of a restaraunt owner. I thanked him, then noticed a cord that ran up into the sky. High above was a white pirate/space ship anchored over the city.
Stopped dreaming around Noon. My foot felt like it had been run over by a truck when I stood up. So, I stayed in bed. Carson left some peanut butter and sliced apples by the bed with some apple juice. So I ate and started reading Eckart Tolle's The Power of Now. I read to page 23. It's not very funny. I think I've had enough of these humorless spiritual teachers. I need a punchline. He'breakes it down: People think too much and not creatively enough. A neurotic species. No kidding. I recieved 4 e-mails from my ex today. 4. Today. Apparently I need more humility. I need to grow up. And something else... Oh yeah, I need to "be the enlightened man that I pretend to be." Eckart Tolle says of enlightenment:
"the word enlightenment conjurs up the idea of some superhuman accomplishment, and the ego likes to keep it that way, but it is simply your natural state of felt oneness with Being."
He also says:
The inability to feel this connectedness gives rise to the illusion of separation, from yourself, and from the world around you. You then perceive yourself, consciously, or unconsciously, as an Isolated fragment. Fear arises, and conflict within and without becomes the norm
Wednesday, April 06, 2005
A Reply
--- Joyce Thomas wrote:
> Hello,
Goodday to you,
>
> Hello we are a Charity Company ready to render loan
> and help to people that need in the usa and uk, so
> we would like you to please forward us with this
> information if you need loan and the reason why the
> loan is needed.
>
>
> If you need a loan indicate that you need a loan, if
> you need help for money for school, housing and
> other little requirement indicate with your email
> reply.
> Also if this is a company that need loan lease let
> us know ur full comany details as well.
>
>
> So please we would like you to fill this Application
> form as listed below for the loan:
>
> Name:
> Company or where you work:
> Full Addres:
> Office Phone Number:
> Mobile phone number:
> Fax Number:
> Amount Of Money Needed:
> Religion:
> Married or single:
>
>
> And what will you use to assure us that the money
> will be paid back:
>
>
> And the date that you will be paying the money back
> after you get the money:
>
> We meet up with the commitements of our clients and
> we are ready to help mostly the Christians
>
> Thanks,
>
> Secretary,
>
> Joyce.
>
> Our Contact info is:
>
> Charity home finance Company Ltd
> 11 ambleside point
> new cross
> london
> se15 1ea
> Great Britian also called United Kingdom
> Contact Phone: 44-7985120048
God Damn it!
How did you get my e-mail address? Joyce Thomas, if you don't send me back a confirmation that my e-mail address has been removed from you parasitic company's data base, I am going to conjure up the foulest soul eating monsters imaginable to plague you, your computers and any of your soulless offsping to come. I am a very buisy entity and it takes a bit of effort for me to perform such an operation, but
it would be worth it to me to spend a little of my dream time spectating the greusome process of your worthless soul being meticulously flayed from your greed infested beast fucked bag of rag and bones.
Thank you
Sincerely,
Dark
>
>
--- Joyce Thomas
> Hello,
Goodday to you,
>
> Hello we are a Charity Company ready to render loan
> and help to people that need in the usa and uk, so
> we would like you to please forward us with this
> information if you need loan and the reason why the
> loan is needed.
>
>
> If you need a loan indicate that you need a loan, if
> you need help for money for school, housing and
> other little requirement indicate with your email
> reply.
> Also if this is a company that need loan lease let
> us know ur full comany details as well.
>
>
> So please we would like you to fill this Application
> form as listed below for the loan:
>
> Name:
> Company or where you work:
> Full Addres:
> Office Phone Number:
> Mobile phone number:
> Fax Number:
> Amount Of Money Needed:
> Religion:
> Married or single:
>
>
> And what will you use to assure us that the money
> will be paid back:
>
>
> And the date that you will be paying the money back
> after you get the money:
>
> We meet up with the commitements of our clients and
> we are ready to help mostly the Christians
>
> Thanks,
>
> Secretary,
>
> Joyce.
>
> Our Contact info is:
>
> Charity home finance Company Ltd
> 11 ambleside point
> new cross
> london
> se15 1ea
> Great Britian also called United Kingdom
> Contact Phone: 44-7985120048
God Damn it!
How did you get my e-mail address? Joyce Thomas, if you don't send me back a confirmation that my e-mail address has been removed from you parasitic company's data base, I am going to conjure up the foulest soul eating monsters imaginable to plague you, your computers and any of your soulless offsping to come. I am a very buisy entity and it takes a bit of effort for me to perform such an operation, but
it would be worth it to me to spend a little of my dream time spectating the greusome process of your worthless soul being meticulously flayed from your greed infested beast fucked bag of rag and bones.
Thank you
Sincerely,
Dark
>
>
From: Dark Sevier
>To: grizz Aahhoo
>Subject: The Deal
>Date: Thu, 31 Mar 2005 23:55:51 -0800 (PST)
>
>Griz-
>
>Where is the middle ground here? I don't want any
>more "conversations" like our last phone call. I am
>not going to be bullied and talked over. I will
>listen to you, consider what you say, and respond. I
>expect nothing less from you or anyone else.
>
>I am not out to screw you. I think you know me well
>enough to know that. I want both of us to feel like
>the transfer of this operation was a fair one. So,
>let's consider the facts surrounding the transition.
>
>You say a lot of things, and you make a lot of plans,
>and they are often completely conflicting and
>dichotomous. I watched you re-formulate the business
>plan for Hawai'i Plant Company three times in an
>afternoon, each time declaring finality. When you
>asked me to manage your company I told you that I
>would not, and I gave you the reason: I cannot work
>with your particular style of management. I told you
>that I would buy your clientele, but I would not
>manage it for you. You agreed. You terminated HPC
>and I started my company. We agreed that I would pay
>you the accounts payable at the time of termination.
>We agreed that I would pay you a percentage of what
>sellable stock that you had left on PATCO property. We
>agreed that I would then pay a yet to be determined
>ammount for the book; or your clientele. We signed
>this agreement with a witness. I agreed to buy your
>truck according to blue book at the time of sale.
>
>You can check your bank records to find out how much
>I put in your account over the last two years. Plus
>the Citibank payments, plus the Discover payments,
>plus the Western Union transfers, plus the Gigantea
>order and the labor involved.
>
>I was glad to do these things when I could, and I
>appreciated your patients when I couldn't. We never
>came to a final number on the business book. We need
>to come to an understanding now.
>
>This whole transfer was on verbal agreements and
>handshakes. I trusted that. I feel that your memory
>has a flexibility and crativity that has spawned a
>communication problem between us.
>
>Your ungraciousness as a house guest, the threats to
>take back your clientele, the liberties that you took
>with my nursury operations, and the disrespectful talk
>behind my back has soured my regard for you as a
>person and a friend. Before we have any more business
>between us, we need to come to an understanding.
>
>You tell me what it is that you think I owe you. I
>will look at that and we can take it from there.
>
>Dark
>
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
grizz Aahhoo"
To: darksevier@yahoo.com
Subject: RE: The Deal
Date: Fri, 01 Apr 2005 21:41:12 +0000
dark im interesred in working somethiong out with you so we can
work
with out losing
first of all im not impressed with your operation the nursrie
looks
like shit i canot believe the coles let you get away with it . you don
have
any order the best i can say is scattrebrain
you have no dicipline whatsoever,. you need to focus on one thingf at a
time.
as far as our agreements your thinking and mine are really
diffrent
you have come up with several diffrent offers and when we first started
the
transfer of the company i hoped that i could still
workl with the compan if i needed it has become apperent that you
comand
weigh too much controll for me . you donot work well with other people
.
as far as my feelings of dissatifacition there is a rather long list
the
biggest is that you are a controol freek and you are not leaving me any
room
.
to make a lomng story shorter im not supper happy with how you
see
things and you are not happy with me . i donot feel like the company
is
paid for when we decided on a secdule of payments we agreed on a
comission
secduleper plant . you never keept track when it seemed like you would
just
give me enough to travel i was contant.
im really greatful for your efforts to provide me with money
for
that time. i afforded
you the opturnity to have controol of the operation.last night you made
refrence to the fact
that i burnt my bridges and left with really bad fellings. i see it
really
diffrentley i lef with a nursrie full of plants full of accounts
recivebal,
happy coustomers. the working stations were operational
i feel like i left you with quite an opturnity, i felt happy that you
were
able to give me the opturnity to see south america.
now im back and im really trieng to be staniable. im really
interested in earnig a living some
way or another im totaly into starting something new. at this moment
air
layering of the trees we sell. imn hop[ing we can get back on track
and
work this out im up for this progect.
get back to me and let me know what is your proposel im out of time
sincerley
griz
>To: grizz Aahhoo
>Subject: The Deal
>Date: Thu, 31 Mar 2005 23:55:51 -0800 (PST)
>
>Griz-
>
>Where is the middle ground here? I don't want any
>more "conversations" like our last phone call. I am
>not going to be bullied and talked over. I will
>listen to you, consider what you say, and respond. I
>expect nothing less from you or anyone else.
>
>I am not out to screw you. I think you know me well
>enough to know that. I want both of us to feel like
>the transfer of this operation was a fair one. So,
>let's consider the facts surrounding the transition.
>
>You say a lot of things, and you make a lot of plans,
>and they are often completely conflicting and
>dichotomous. I watched you re-formulate the business
>plan for Hawai'i Plant Company three times in an
>afternoon, each time declaring finality. When you
>asked me to manage your company I told you that I
>would not, and I gave you the reason: I cannot work
>with your particular style of management. I told you
>that I would buy your clientele, but I would not
>manage it for you. You agreed. You terminated HPC
>and I started my company. We agreed that I would pay
>you the accounts payable at the time of termination.
>We agreed that I would pay you a percentage of what
>sellable stock that you had left on PATCO property. We
>agreed that I would then pay a yet to be determined
>ammount for the book; or your clientele. We signed
>this agreement with a witness. I agreed to buy your
>truck according to blue book at the time of sale.
>
>You can check your bank records to find out how much
>I put in your account over the last two years. Plus
>the Citibank payments, plus the Discover payments,
>plus the Western Union transfers, plus the Gigantea
>order and the labor involved.
>
>I was glad to do these things when I could, and I
>appreciated your patients when I couldn't. We never
>came to a final number on the business book. We need
>to come to an understanding now.
>
>This whole transfer was on verbal agreements and
>handshakes. I trusted that. I feel that your memory
>has a flexibility and crativity that has spawned a
>communication problem between us.
>
>Your ungraciousness as a house guest, the threats to
>take back your clientele, the liberties that you took
>with my nursury operations, and the disrespectful talk
>behind my back has soured my regard for you as a
>person and a friend. Before we have any more business
>between us, we need to come to an understanding.
>
>You tell me what it is that you think I owe you. I
>will look at that and we can take it from there.
>
>Dark
>
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
grizz Aahhoo"
To: darksevier@yahoo.com
Subject: RE: The Deal
Date: Fri, 01 Apr 2005 21:41:12 +0000
dark im interesred in working somethiong out with you so we can
work
with out losing
first of all im not impressed with your operation the nursrie
looks
like shit i canot believe the coles let you get away with it . you don
have
any order the best i can say is scattrebrain
you have no dicipline whatsoever,. you need to focus on one thingf at a
time.
as far as our agreements your thinking and mine are really
diffrent
you have come up with several diffrent offers and when we first started
the
transfer of the company i hoped that i could still
workl with the compan if i needed it has become apperent that you
comand
weigh too much controll for me . you donot work well with other people
.
as far as my feelings of dissatifacition there is a rather long list
the
biggest is that you are a controol freek and you are not leaving me any
room
.
to make a lomng story shorter im not supper happy with how you
see
things and you are not happy with me . i donot feel like the company
is
paid for when we decided on a secdule of payments we agreed on a
comission
secduleper plant . you never keept track when it seemed like you would
just
give me enough to travel i was contant.
im really greatful for your efforts to provide me with money
for
that time. i afforded
you the opturnity to have controol of the operation.last night you made
refrence to the fact
that i burnt my bridges and left with really bad fellings. i see it
really
diffrentley i lef with a nursrie full of plants full of accounts
recivebal,
happy coustomers. the working stations were operational
i feel like i left you with quite an opturnity, i felt happy that you
were
able to give me the opturnity to see south america.
now im back and im really trieng to be staniable. im really
interested in earnig a living some
way or another im totaly into starting something new. at this moment
air
layering of the trees we sell. imn hop[ing we can get back on track
and
work this out im up for this progect.
get back to me and let me know what is your proposel im out of time
sincerley
griz
Sunday, March 13, 2005
Sunday, March 13th, 2005
Served as emcee for the Earth Mother Mind Jam @ Anna Bananas yesterday. I think this was a record for me: 10 hour gig. Ten hours of shooting my mouth off. There were acts in between. Some very good acts, actually. A number of performers flew themselves in from the mainland to perform free at this gig. Unfortunately they were mostly performing for each other. Honolulu missed out.
ralo set the whole thing up. I have to say that she has some major cajones to set up a festival in Hawai'i (she lives in Minnisota), invite acts from the mainland (who pay their own way), and make a line-up with local acts (that she doesn't know intimately, if at all). She is charmed. It was a nice place to be for ten hours. The crowd was not as large as she had hoped. The people here weren't willing to pay $10 for mainland acts they didn't know, and the local acts didn't have much drawing power for the door. So, a room full of talent and their friends and family members mutually supported each other. I didn't have a financial stake in the thing (I live ten minuites from the gig), so I was able to enjoy the eclectic line-up without stressing the airfair, unsold CD's, promotion costs, or reputation with the club owners.
Alt Rock. Alt Country. Hawai'ian Slack Key. Alt Folk. Alt Hip Hop. Alt Regge. Retro Poetry. Lethal Yo-Yo (alt Yo-Yo). Alt Spoken Word with Alt Fusion. Most everyone was respectable. One self promoting hack slipped through the crack and landed himself a prime spot, but was swiftly and deftly givin the hook by ralo. I verbally trounced the self deluded fool in a less than tactfull way. I did it in an indirect way that was not really that indirect. I felt the door of the voracious id monsters start to creak open and was tempted to let them loose, but moved on to the final act out of respect for the late hour.
DO NOT SUPPORT BAD ART
The message was clear. This was the first of ralo's event's held here in Honolulu. I hope it isn't the last.
Served as emcee for the Earth Mother Mind Jam @ Anna Bananas yesterday. I think this was a record for me: 10 hour gig. Ten hours of shooting my mouth off. There were acts in between. Some very good acts, actually. A number of performers flew themselves in from the mainland to perform free at this gig. Unfortunately they were mostly performing for each other. Honolulu missed out.
ralo set the whole thing up. I have to say that she has some major cajones to set up a festival in Hawai'i (she lives in Minnisota), invite acts from the mainland (who pay their own way), and make a line-up with local acts (that she doesn't know intimately, if at all). She is charmed. It was a nice place to be for ten hours. The crowd was not as large as she had hoped. The people here weren't willing to pay $10 for mainland acts they didn't know, and the local acts didn't have much drawing power for the door. So, a room full of talent and their friends and family members mutually supported each other. I didn't have a financial stake in the thing (I live ten minuites from the gig), so I was able to enjoy the eclectic line-up without stressing the airfair, unsold CD's, promotion costs, or reputation with the club owners.
Alt Rock. Alt Country. Hawai'ian Slack Key. Alt Folk. Alt Hip Hop. Alt Regge. Retro Poetry. Lethal Yo-Yo (alt Yo-Yo). Alt Spoken Word with Alt Fusion. Most everyone was respectable. One self promoting hack slipped through the crack and landed himself a prime spot, but was swiftly and deftly givin the hook by ralo. I verbally trounced the self deluded fool in a less than tactfull way. I did it in an indirect way that was not really that indirect. I felt the door of the voracious id monsters start to creak open and was tempted to let them loose, but moved on to the final act out of respect for the late hour.
DO NOT SUPPORT BAD ART
The message was clear. This was the first of ralo's event's held here in Honolulu. I hope it isn't the last.
Monday, March 07, 2005
Mildly wigged.
Looking at the life I have carved out for myself...
I have no complaints about this active lifestyle I am living. I have notions of where it's heading, but no idea how it will play out. Reading through and transcribing my old journal has givin me a perspective of a younger me that only time could provide. It has also shown me how small my objectivity of my current situation. I don't know what I'm doing. I let myself think I know so that I will continue, but I don't know, really. The life I live now could be a fevered dream from the past; the past that may well be a fiction I created.
Sister found a free gas stove on Craigs List. I picked it up sunday morning. It seems that the hose fittings for natural gas and the fittings for propane are not compatable. I found this out today after running all over Honolulu looking for a way to hook the new stove to the old tank. Someone from Maui is supposed to call me tomorrow. So, the new stove with the functioning oven is in the kitchen not functioning, and the old stove with the broken oven is working on my front walkway. I like it out there. The dog vacuums the stirfry escapees, and the birds clean the pan and range in the mornings.
I couldn't make this shit up.
Looking at the life I have carved out for myself...
I have no complaints about this active lifestyle I am living. I have notions of where it's heading, but no idea how it will play out. Reading through and transcribing my old journal has givin me a perspective of a younger me that only time could provide. It has also shown me how small my objectivity of my current situation. I don't know what I'm doing. I let myself think I know so that I will continue, but I don't know, really. The life I live now could be a fevered dream from the past; the past that may well be a fiction I created.
Sister found a free gas stove on Craigs List. I picked it up sunday morning. It seems that the hose fittings for natural gas and the fittings for propane are not compatable. I found this out today after running all over Honolulu looking for a way to hook the new stove to the old tank. Someone from Maui is supposed to call me tomorrow. So, the new stove with the functioning oven is in the kitchen not functioning, and the old stove with the broken oven is working on my front walkway. I like it out there. The dog vacuums the stirfry escapees, and the birds clean the pan and range in the mornings.
I couldn't make this shit up.
Thursday, February 24, 2005
Wednesday, February 23, 2005
The machine is back in comission.
Carson says I may have consumption, "the poets disease." Poets used to die from it. Some kind of resperatory thing. She doesn't think I'm going to die though.
Expiating the smoking karma. Had do give up smoking herb too. No cloves either.
Been drinking tumeric tea, supposedly good for the lungs. Brother Jason grew buckets of the stuff, fat like ginger. The hippy markets won't buy it because it's not certified organic. He has unofficial tumeric. My lungs don't care about the certification.
Anyway, I don't think I have consumption. I just looked it up on the net. It is also known as tuberculosis. I don't think I have tuberculosis. I'm going to go see a Chinese herbalist. My energy levels are for shite.
Carson says I may have consumption, "the poets disease." Poets used to die from it. Some kind of resperatory thing. She doesn't think I'm going to die though.
Expiating the smoking karma. Had do give up smoking herb too. No cloves either.
Been drinking tumeric tea, supposedly good for the lungs. Brother Jason grew buckets of the stuff, fat like ginger. The hippy markets won't buy it because it's not certified organic. He has unofficial tumeric. My lungs don't care about the certification.
Anyway, I don't think I have consumption. I just looked it up on the net. It is also known as tuberculosis. I don't think I have tuberculosis. I'm going to go see a Chinese herbalist. My energy levels are for shite.
Saturday, January 15, 2005
Ok. So, I looked up Hypneroticamachia on the dictionary. No go. I found Hypnerotomachia Poliphili: a book written in 1499 by a Dominican monk in Venice. Very obscure. That monk was a tripper.
There are a number of subjects that I am interested in writing in at the moment. I hesitate though, because the subjects demand time an attention. I'm stingy with these things. Want to be less so.
So. Was talking to Carson this morning while driving. Talking about blogging turning juornalism inside out, about the internet. Carson mentioned that the internet was still free, mentioned that it narrowly avoided being privatized like the airwaves of telivision, radio, etc. This started me thinking about a scenario I had playing in my head about ten years ago.
It would be fair to say that I was psychotic, delusional, and acutely paranoid at the time. I picked up bits of information and history and wove them with conjecture into stories that would have made a tight little series of morden fiction, even though I was living them out as fact in my customized low-rider reality.
One scenario went like this:
Early 1960's: There is revolution in the air. The cultural landscape shimmered with an irridescense illuminated by the dawning of the psychedellic era. Change ceased to appear dangerous to the young and mentally flexible.
From another perspective, the kids were freaking out. The older, more "respnsible" members of the society were in control of the media and used it to portray the anomolous behaviours of the young as foolish, freakish brats. The cameras found the most dramatic examples of the Hippies, the Yippies, the Panthers and other revolutionaries, passing up the more subdued and coherent. The microphones zeroed in on the post verbal members of this movement, people whose experiences left them speechless. "Wow man" just didn't translate the new consciousness to the uninitiated. It served instead to alienate.
So, I conjectured that the brains and visionaries realized, on some level, that they would need to capture the media, and that meant creating the technology that the old guard would have to come to rely on. The Trojan Horse would be wheeled onto the world stage. Seen as a capitulation of the revolutionaries to the capitolists, business and government alike would open their gates and welcome in the gift of the new Tech. The internet serves as a crude mechanical model of our interconnectedness, the interconnectedness that precedes the division of country, religion, socioeconomic, etc.
The new media is free. The new journalism is free, or has the capacity to be free of commercial bias.
In my fevered scenario, the bottom would drop out of this Thechno Trojan Horse, and the minions of humanity would drop in behind the fortress of the Social Norms, and overwhelm them in their sleep with outrageous honesty. A doomsday bug for the thugs.
We should communicate freely. We should live on this planet freely. We should have access to water for free.
Should and shall share the same etymology.
There are a number of subjects that I am interested in writing in at the moment. I hesitate though, because the subjects demand time an attention. I'm stingy with these things. Want to be less so.
So. Was talking to Carson this morning while driving. Talking about blogging turning juornalism inside out, about the internet. Carson mentioned that the internet was still free, mentioned that it narrowly avoided being privatized like the airwaves of telivision, radio, etc. This started me thinking about a scenario I had playing in my head about ten years ago.
It would be fair to say that I was psychotic, delusional, and acutely paranoid at the time. I picked up bits of information and history and wove them with conjecture into stories that would have made a tight little series of morden fiction, even though I was living them out as fact in my customized low-rider reality.
One scenario went like this:
Early 1960's: There is revolution in the air. The cultural landscape shimmered with an irridescense illuminated by the dawning of the psychedellic era. Change ceased to appear dangerous to the young and mentally flexible.
From another perspective, the kids were freaking out. The older, more "respnsible" members of the society were in control of the media and used it to portray the anomolous behaviours of the young as foolish, freakish brats. The cameras found the most dramatic examples of the Hippies, the Yippies, the Panthers and other revolutionaries, passing up the more subdued and coherent. The microphones zeroed in on the post verbal members of this movement, people whose experiences left them speechless. "Wow man" just didn't translate the new consciousness to the uninitiated. It served instead to alienate.
So, I conjectured that the brains and visionaries realized, on some level, that they would need to capture the media, and that meant creating the technology that the old guard would have to come to rely on. The Trojan Horse would be wheeled onto the world stage. Seen as a capitulation of the revolutionaries to the capitolists, business and government alike would open their gates and welcome in the gift of the new Tech. The internet serves as a crude mechanical model of our interconnectedness, the interconnectedness that precedes the division of country, religion, socioeconomic, etc.
The new media is free. The new journalism is free, or has the capacity to be free of commercial bias.
In my fevered scenario, the bottom would drop out of this Thechno Trojan Horse, and the minions of humanity would drop in behind the fortress of the Social Norms, and overwhelm them in their sleep with outrageous honesty. A doomsday bug for the thugs.
We should communicate freely. We should live on this planet freely. We should have access to water for free.
Should and shall share the same etymology.
My computer has been down. I went back to stone age writing. I'll fix the computer someday, when I can administer a laxitive to my financial constipation. So much to say. So much to pay.
It was a sweet gathering at the open mic last night. I counted 75 people at one point. Jamala came down to play and did a hour long set. People were transfixed on the synchronous hands of two facile players. I watched a baby that could barely stand determine to dance after watching the drumming and the dancing it inspired.
The good Dr. slipped me an envelope of green paper to help support me and these events. Much appreciated and needed this week. Gas and food will continue for a few more days. I am going to go eat right now, because I can. More later when I can get into it.
It was a sweet gathering at the open mic last night. I counted 75 people at one point. Jamala came down to play and did a hour long set. People were transfixed on the synchronous hands of two facile players. I watched a baby that could barely stand determine to dance after watching the drumming and the dancing it inspired.
The good Dr. slipped me an envelope of green paper to help support me and these events. Much appreciated and needed this week. Gas and food will continue for a few more days. I am going to go eat right now, because I can. More later when I can get into it.
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