Objectified

Pixelated 102, originally uploaded by Dark Sevier.

Transcribed:
Sept. 25th 2006 Waimanalo

Home alone. Around 10pm. Chorus of bugs making night sounds in my right ear. The second hand on the bedside clock in my right ear... Gecko chuckles all around as random punctuation. Dogs barking as slight percussion in the distance. But enough about me.

Externally:

Calm quiet country style 3000 miles from anywhere.

Internally:

Anxiety about the mystery
that carries me with surity
through my own and owned apprenhensions
over taking things easy
when I so easily take things hard.

A plan in action in my own inaction?

Inadvertant Taogasm.

The MYSTERY as The Question:

How do I pull off this life?

Objects In Mirror are Closer Than They Appear...

Cocka4 076, originally uploaded by Dark Sevier.

It's really tough for me to write with any kind of point in mind. My words are like slo-mo freestyle that don't always rhyme. Fresh and relevant to the moment. Snap shot of a mental state in a place in time that never was and never will be. The novelty of the expression is it's value more than the points made, or not made, in the piece. Or, the conclusions arrived at. or bypassed.

Or the obscure poetic style of obtuse self indulgence made public record. These words are sometimes water to drink, spice for flavour, Junk food for mental mastication. Sometimes ambrosia for the senses we can't convences us we have.

In Space No One Can Hear You Screen...

Cocka4 117, originally uploaded by Dark Sevier.

I have recently been informed that some people read my blog on occasion. Hi there to you who that is. Thanks for checking in on my process as a blogger and a human. The info flow from my site has been slight I know. Sparce. I've been hesitant to write about my life as I know the power of words. A defining line can initiate a crossroads and a direction. The pilot of my life has been in derelection: still moving along the stream of life, but facing what I pass as I go with the flow, not watching where I'm going. I could turn around I suppose, Watch where I'm going.

Writing honestly can be such a pain in the ass. I could just be typing along, minding my own business, when WHAM, an undeniable truth spills on the page...Do you know how to wash out the stain of undeniable truth when it spills on the fabric of your existance?


I suppose the truth ain't all that bad. It doesn't have to be brutal to be effective. I could just continue to talk about the truth and not actually have to deal with it directly. Or I could talk about that there phenomena for the sake of objectivity.

Lies. So many lies. Lies so fucking deep they creep into every level of our existance: Social (we're all equal), Cultural (except me and you), Theological (there is only ONE and it's not you), Political (our Nation is split in two), Sexual( repression as a key to heaven), Mental (Cognitive ability not a priority), Biological (Doctor knows best), Metaphysical (What you see is what you get, forget about the rest), Psychedelical (That's the rest we told you to forget about, so stop gawking at what doesn't exist), Excederalical ( The shadow and periphery are not to be regarded). Period.

Upsetter. Spoiler. What game are we playing? Who has framed this debate that predicates that we are more at odds than not? How many ways can we forget that we are one? Who are you at odds with now? The Loudmouth, the Jerk, the Inferior of Status that you can't live without? Yourself?

Myself. Can I embrace the truth in a sustainable way? Can my persona handle the replies when I address the lies in my life and ours? And can I survive the revise should one be necessary?

What is the price of living in a lie, willfully? I think we, personally and collectively have the opportunity to live honestly but forgo that choice for conventionality. Default conviviality .

Suffocating honesty in social lubrication.
Sacrifice integrity for fear of Isolation.
Atomize humanity by breaking down relations

Stop making waves and we settle in stagnation


Thrown from the stream of life
the individualized of the one-fits-all size identity
lies face down in demographic puddles
Sucking social embrionic fluids
in lieu of the soul stinging oxygen of honesty

Thats a mouthfull. I gotta take a break, I'm getting dizzy.

The Hanged Garden

Garden 090, originally uploaded by Dark Sevier.

I used to be a writer. I used to write. I used to write things on this very blog that I thought some people might dig reading.

I've been doing this life thing; playing around with making choices that shape me as a human. And stuff.

" if it's good, it's fun, and if it's bad it's funny."
-that Courtney dude from the Dandy Worhols

Wierd 9/11 facts

cocka 118, originally uploaded by Dark Sevier.

Lifted from Craigslist for your amusement...



>Weird 9/11 Facts
Reply to: pers-209282799@craigslist.org
Date: 2006-09-19, 1:26AM HST



Weird 9/11 Facts




1) New York City has 11 letters



2) Afghanistan has 11 letters.



3) Ramsin Yuseb (The terrorist who threatened to destroy the Twin Towers in 1993) has 11 letters.



4) George W Bush has 11 letters.



5) The two twin towers make an "11"



This could be a mere coincidence, but this gets more interesting:




1) New York is the 11th state.



2) The first plane crashing against the Twin Towers was flight number 11.



3) Flight 11 was carrying 92 passengers. 9 + 2 = 11



4) Flight 77 which also hit Twin Towers, was carrying 65 passengers. 6+5 = 11



5) The tragedy was on September 11, or 9/11 as it is now known. 9 + 1+ 1 = 11



6) The date is equal to the US emergency services telephone number 911. 9 + 1 + 1 = 11.



Sheer coincidence..?

cockatiel eggs

cocka 137, originally uploaded by Dark Sevier.

Gecko eggs are next.

Hi.

Hi., originally uploaded by Dark Sevier.

Now what...

Ok. Well. Now... What.

Hi there. Dark here. Just checking in. With myself. In front of you. All this stuff I do: the writing, the pictures, the talk show, etc. Googleable. I'm googleizing myself, dreaming of Wikipediadom. I keep putting myself out there; MySpaced out, Tribe-alized and Flickring on computer screens here and there around the planet.

I have to ask myself what it's all about sometimes. I don't always have to answer. I think it to be beneficial: checking my hypocracy levels for irony deficiency.

...Something about perspective... Somewhere along the line I thought that being a producer of perspective was as important as being a consumer of other points of view.

I think we human types are in real need of a reality check. I really don't like using that cliche, but if the shoe fits... Some of us know that reality reveals itself in aspects, seemingly complete within the reflecting surfaces of its facets. Others think that reality is the totality of their individual reflection of life. I thought it would be nice to facilitate a dialogue of these two perspectives. Well, maybe nice isn't the word. Crucial, I think, was my original thought.

More Later...

Hanks Bar

Hanks Bar, originally uploaded by Dark Sevier.

Oceanic Cable wats to broadcast our show as a latenight talk show. My god, what have we done....

Rosenthal Show Poster

Pstr5[1], originally uploaded by Dark Sevier.

A Dark Night: Press

June 18 049, originally uploaded by Dark Sevier.

The experiment is recieving some attention (thanks Danny).

Honolulu Weekly Article

China Town

First Friday 8-06, originally uploaded by Dark Sevier.

A Dark Night - Live @ the rRed Elephant

Show is going well. We've done ten so far. Plannning on shooting the pilot on the 3rd of Sept.

Here is some preliminary footage: ( site down...Stay Tuned)

Complete Conjecture on a Fictitious Scenario

DeadGecko 017, originally uploaded by Dark Sevier.

Conjecture:

A Nation is pretty self satisfied. Happy to be entertained. Relaxed. Open.

The Government of the Nation is concerned. Its currency is going flaccid. The Government fears the People of the Nation will throw an unsightly tantrum when their entertainment is interrupted by news of the growing impotence.

Meanwhile, Professional Criminals take advantage of the calm before the storm to plan a heist. The biggest bank heist in the history of the Planet. It’s preparations are extensive.

Fore knowledge of the event spreads beyond the perpetrators. The Government ignores it and prepares to frame a famed dictator of a land that holds a key to the resource. An economic Viagra.

The heist is bloody and awe inspiring. The People of the Nation are shocked. The Government imprints the vulnerable people of the Nation. Stockholm Syndrome en masse.

The Government takes a hit to the ego with the heist, but more than makes up for it on the back end. War economies are good for Business, good for the Governmental ego, Bad for the People of the Nation. Believing that the Government is theirs, the People of the Nation take the blow of the heist personally, and rally to defend the Government. And the captive identifies with its captor. And the captor perpetuates the imprint.

Humanspirit

Humanspirit, originally uploaded by Dark Sevier.

A few weeks ago I sent a link to my Mom:

Loose Change: 2nd Edition

I recieved no reply until today, The 4th of July. It was this forward:

This will give you a few chills and perhaps a few tears. BEAUTIFUL!!!


The Flag of the United States of America

(If you're interested, Elvis is singing "America The Beautiful" on this email, so have your speakers on.
If this doesn't give you chills, you should pack up and move on to another country.)

I Am the Flag of theUnited States of America.


I am the flag of the United States of America.
My name is Old Glory.
I fly atop the world's tallest buildings.
I stand watch in America's halls of justice.
I fly majestically over institutions of learning.
I stand guard with power in the world.
Look up and see me.


I stand for peace, honor, truth and justice.
I stand for freedom.
I am confident.
I am arrogant.
I am proud.
When I am flown with my fellow banners,
My head is a little higher,
My colors a little truer.
I bow to no one!
I am recognized all over the world.
I am worshipped - I am saluted.
I am loved - I am revered.
I am respected - and I am feared.
I have fought in every battle of every war for more then 200 years.I was flown at Valley Forge, Gettysburg, Shiloh and Appomattox.
I was there at San Juan Hill, the trenches of France,
in the Argonne Forest, Anzio, Rome and the beaches of Normandy.
Guam, Okinawa, Korea and KheSan, Saigon, Vietnam know me.
I'm presently in the mountains of Afganistan and the hot and dusty deserts of Iraq and wherever freedom is needed.
I led my troops, I was dirty, battleworn and tired,
But my soldiers cheered me and I was proud.
I have been burned, torn and trampled on the streets of countries I have helped set free.
It does not hurt for I am invincible.
I have been soiled upon, burned, torn and trampled in the streets of my country.
And when it's done by those Whom I've served in battle - it hurts.
But I shall overcome - for I am strong.
I have slipped the bonds of Earth and stood watch over the uncharted frontiers of space from my vantage point on the moon.
I have borne silent witness to all of America's finest hours.
But my finest hours are yet to come.
When I am torn into strips and used as bandages for my wounded comrades on the battlefield,
When I am flown at half-mast to honor my soldier,
Or when I lie in the trembling arms of a grieving parent
at the grave of their fallen son or daughter,

I am proud.

Please forward my message to all who still love and respect me that I may fly proudly for another two hundred years.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

My Reply:

Sir,

This "poem" gives me chills alright. The chills that come from the freedom loving people when the boots of fascism are heard marching down the road.

Your pack-up-and-get-out-if-you-don't-agree-with-my-propaganda stance is un- American idol worship. At least it's un-American from the perspective of the forefathers of this nation. Your blind nationalism and sheeplike adherence to empty dogma would make any dictator very proud. Your characterization of the symbol of a vast and diverse country, as little more than a war banner outs you as a simple person that knows not of which he speaks. This country is far more vast and deep than your very limited perspective of it. You are burning the flag with your words, searing off the beauty and subtle nuance of a great nation.



Your brand of empty rhetoric and poor poetry serves as poison in the well of intelegent discourse. It is not constructive. It is meant to divide a nation between those who share your predjudice and xeniphobia, and those who are willing to embrace this republic as a whole. A nation divided will fall. If this nation stands for another 200 years it will not be due to your particular brand of Americanism, but in spite of it.

America is not a political perspective. America is not an economic agenda. America is not you, not a personified flag, not a brand name, not a philosophy. It is something far beyond and inclusive of all of that. And much more than all that. America bears and fosters genius as well as idiocy. It tolerates intolerance and suffers the arrogant.

I take the time to reply to the perspective you proffer because I care about the land that afforded me a free mind. A mind not afraid to stand up to bullys that tell me to leave if I am not moved by their bad poetry. I am not going to engage in the juvinile "I know you are but what am I?" right-left, good-bad, up-down, see-saw loopy rhetoric. I am not going to tell you to get out of the country because I disagree with you, because I know that recycling our own rubbish is more responsible than dumping it on our neighbors.

I am an American. I am also a human. I have Scottish, German, French, Choctaw, Cherokee in my blood. I would not be me without all that. America would not be America without the rest of the world. America is a nice address to have, but I do not look down on my neighbors, because their hard work and vision enabled me to be here. I will not forget where I come from because to do so is to inflate my ego at the expense of my very being.

As for my countrymen, I will engage them when I see that they are posing a danger to my country. This is why I take the time to reply to you.

Sincerly,

June 18

June 18 058, originally uploaded by Dark Sevier.

Ya yaya ya ya ya ya ya ya ya

Alchemy

Xeriscape, originally uploaded by Dark Sevier.

More press on the land mess: Advertiser Friday 16

Plantelope on Fire

Plantelope on Fire, originally uploaded by Dark Sevier.

Ag issue on Channel 2 news last night...

Transcript of Story

Plantelope

Plantelope, originally uploaded by Dark Sevier.

Hello peoples.

A Dark Night : A SomethingOrOther Live! @ The rRed Elephant!

Sunday nights @ The rRed Elephant beginning June 18th.

Dark Sevier and the Vapor Puppets, Shree Sadagopan, Steven Rosenthal, plus special guests open this weekly showcase event. The Big Time promotion for this SomethingOrOther begins in July, so the last two Sundays in June are going to be mostly word of mouth and friends of friends. You are invited to come down and witness the genesis of a unique entertainment format in Hawaii’s new premier recording/performance space.

Music, Poetry, Dance, Dialogue, and, of course, More.

Stay tuned for more propaganda on this exciting phenomena……

Aloha,

Dark

Honoluu Advertser GIF

Look Ma!, originally uploaded by Dark Sevier.

Look Ma! I made the paper!

Concrete Mosaic, originally uploaded by Dark Sevier.

An excercise in Spin. (photo above is of the land that's "not being farmed") Here is the Honolulu Advertiser article from today.

And here is my take on things. At least, here is one of my perspectives: A letter I sent to the Waimanalo Agricultural Association and the president of the Hawai'i Farmers Federation-


INTRODUCTION

My name is Big Time Farmer Man (not actual name I used in this document), founder of Alchemy Nursery. We are an organic commercial nursery located in Waimanalo. To our knowledge, we are the only organic commercial nursery in the state, specializing in native and non-invasive trees, climate specific landscaping, and recycling. In September, 2005 Alchemy Nursery began a cooperative business partnership with All Tree Services to build a nursery based on sustainability, organic principles, and inter-business cooperation.

When a nursery partners with a tree trimming company to manage their waste, everyone wins; environment included. Tree growing, tree planting, and tree trimming are three aspects of the business of trees. In the short time we have been working together, all parties involved have been excited by the good work our partnership has fostered, by the economic possibilities of what this collaboration can accomplish, and by the opportunity to serve the ecology that we live in.

Alchemy recycles the by products of All Tree Services, using the mulch as weed control and soil amendment. The purpose is to foster a symbiotic relationship between the business of growing trees and the business of trimming trees. We also provide the opportunity for the tree trimming company to transplant trees to the nursery rather than destroy them.


THE BATTLE FOR SUSTAINABILITY

This flagship operation was immediately threatened by the DLNR to revoke the lease for running a “base yard.” The DLNR has been prompted to move swiftly on this issue by the attorney for the Waimanalo Agricultural Association. The Attorney for the WAA seems to be willfully ignorant about the nature of our operation. The whole case seems to be more of a personal attack by a handful of the WAA members than an actual concern for the right use of the land. The nursery is not even a year old yet. The development of the operation as been stymied by the daily harassment of an overzealous WAA member in the neighborhood who seems to spend more time harassing local farmers and businesses than minding his own business.

I, as much and more than anyone, can understand community concern for the right use of state land. The general assumption seems to be that the “base yard” in question is unrelated to agricultural practices. This could not be further from the truth. This effort to build a better nursery is dependant on the use of all aspects of the tree trimming business. They are interdependent. But the DLNR board does not recognize the connection in spite of the obvious and clearly articulated evidence. The innovation and community benefit of this endeavor is not being regarded as a factor in the equation.

On March 13th the DLNR board met to decide the fate of the All Tree lease.
The charge against All Trees is that they are running a “base yard” to park equipment unrelated to the nursery operation. We have shown conclusively that the equipment parked on site is directly related.

The DLNR board voted on the termination of the lease. One member stated that termination would be a “draconian” move and a decision was made to postpone the decision for 30 days.

An attorney for All Trees wrote a letter to the board to inform them that I, as the operator of the nursery, had existing plans to be out of town and would not be available to be present at the meeting. A DLNR board member, Steve Molman replied, stating that they were satisfied that a viable nursery was being developed, and that the main issue was with the All Tree equipment.

The next meeting on April 16th was held to decide if All Trees had stayed in compliance during the 30 probation. It was clear that All Trees had stayed in compliance regarding the trucks and equipment. The attorney for Waimanalo Agricultural Association portrayed us as “Big Business” abusing state ag land for non ag purposes. The meeting was three hours long and full of oppositional statements rallied by the opposition attacking the veracity of the nursery operation. I was not there to defend it, due to the board members assurance that the issue was the use of the tree trimming equipment.

It was claimed that we were not organic, that we could not possibly utilize the mulch in our operation, that it was impossible to grow plants in the manner that we are in fact doing. In spite of the fact that we are organically farming in ways deemed impossible, only made possible by the relationship between All Trees and its equipment, the board took a vote to not only cancel the lease, but foreclose on the lease. This means that All Trees and Alchemy nursery would forfeit all investments and improvements made in the creation of the nursery, including all plant material. A unanimous vote was needed. The result was four in favor of foreclosure, one against.

WE NEED YOUR HELP

If canceling the lease is draconian, as one board member had said, than what word can be used to describe an unwarranted foreclosure?

We have been given another 30 days of probation, even though we had no violation in the first thirty days. How can we be expected to invest further in the development of our operation when the very real risk of losing it all is looming? This is a clear case of harassment.


If the well funded visceral opposition is allowed to manipulate the State Agency of the DLNR, a terrible president will be set. I do not doubt the good intentions of the DLNR board. I do question their ability to serve in the best interests of Hawai’i’s agricultural future when they allow themselves to be swayed by vehemence over facts.

The board will meet again May 12th to decide the fate of Alchemy Nursery. This decision affects everyone concerned with sustainable agriculture in Hawai’i. We need all the support we can get at the DLNR board meeting telling them that you support the effort of developing responsible agriculture.

If you would like to tour the nursery, or find out more about this issue, please contact me at xxx-xxxx, or e-mail at AlchemyNursery @ Yahoo.com

Thank you
Big Time Farmer Man
Co-Owner
Alchemy Nursery.

In the middle of negotiations...

Walking Iris, originally uploaded by Dark Sevier.

Organic Landscape Nursery: Out of Business Sale
Reply to: serv-165017943@craigslist.org
Date: 2006-05-26, 10:56AM HST


Looking for a land canvas to paint with plants. Must move my nursery, everything far sale, everthing must go. I have trees, groundcovers, shrubs, and more. I am looking for someone who wants to buy it all, for resale or instalation on site. Let me give your place a face lift. Everything is still available. I have not made a big push to unload everything yet. I can send a plant list with prices, and pictures,but the thing would be to come and see the nursery.

The nursery is the only one like it in Hawaii. It's a commercial landscape nursery based in organic principles and sustainable practices. I have plant combonations and instalation techniques that are climate specific, designed to use little water, no chemical fertilizer, no herbicides.

My operation has only been in Waimanalo for ten months so the model gardens have yet to fully come into ther own, though they still look great.

I have a green thumb and a natural talent for landscape design. I started the whole operation with no capital. If I only had to move the place once, I would've been able to last. But my new operation is on a piece of property that has recently become the site of political shenanagans, corruption, and bad blood between neighbors. The problem is with the lease holder, not me. I just happen to be in the middle of this debacle. Oh that magic feeling : no where to go.

So maybe you can own a piece of the dream before I bring in the other nurserys to pick the place clean.

If you would like to make an appointment to see it before it's uprooted, or if iterested in lots of plants and/or a land scaped, e-mail me for a list of plants and photos.. First come first served.


Mahalo

-D

* this is in or around Waimanalo

Banana

Banana, originally uploaded by Dark Sevier.

HOW TO KILL A BLOG...

When does it end, the blogging. What does one do when they are through with blogging on their blog? I wanted to be a writer, not a blogger. Such an unfortunate name, Blog. Web Log. On Line Journal. Glow in the Dark Psychologist. Un-Official Source of Information. Last Bastion of Free Speech. Cyber Den of Iniquity. Incriminating Evidence. Ego Fluffing Device.

I started writing on this Web Log because it was free. And because my notebooks were molding in the jungle and my hard drives had a habit of crashing. An effort to preserve my writing. And to juxtapose photos with words.

Among other things.

How personal can I get here, really. People sometimes tell me that they read my blog. Sometimes I forget that. Remembering now.

Hello.

There was some kind of motivation in the begining. I thought that I would exploit a public forum and insert my two cents worth of humanity into the information stream. I have to admit, in the beginning I had thoughts of becomming a popular figure in the blogoshere, but I didn't have photo capacity.

I only had words. I didn't think people would read just words with no pictures. So I stopped thinking about an audience and just wrote, like I had a habit of doing. Just write. No agenda necesesarily. Not trying to make a point, primarily. It was more about what was between the lines and behind the letters than what I was saying directly. For me. I was less interested in Obviously than I was Essentially. Until Recently. Obviously has taken Immediacy hostage and won't let it go until I pay Attention.

Gnomeville

Alchemy 2 008, originally uploaded by Dark Sevier.

Politics of Farming

Morning on Olomana, originally uploaded by Dark Sevier.

“Confidence is the feeling that precedes understanding the situation.”
-foutune cookie fortune found in Weekly World News


Had a State Senator show up to the hearing on Friday. And two District Representatives. A head of a State Farming Federation. Among others. The Senator was wearing board shorts. He came to advise the Department of Land and Natural Resources board to vote their conscience and to not be swayed by the threat of a lawsuit. One District Rep. testified that one of his constituants had called him to see if he could assist in a case of a friend who was facing eviction from State Ag Lands. He motioned to me and mentioned that he hoped I wasn’t the person he was supposed to help. He said that he felt Agricultural Lands should be used for agriculture.

Neither the Senator nor the District Rep. have been to the nursery.

Defending attourney turned on the power point and instructed me to explain the nursery layout and plan. A board member interjected and asked “Haven’t we already seen this?”. I replied that I didn’t think it was understood the first time, really understood, or we wouldn’t need to be in a hearing for the third time in three months. I stated my understanding of a “base yard”(the original accusation) as a place where machines or equpment unrelated to intensive agriculture are stored on Agricultural lands. The board agreed to the definition. I then demonstrated that all the by-products of the Tree Trimming operation were an integral part of the nursery design and concept. Therefore the chippers, the trucks, the boom trucks and the crane were all directly related to the functioning of this particular agricultural operation.

(to be cont….)

Red Elephant

Red Elephant, originally uploaded by Dark Sevier.

Coming Mid-June 2006

Red Elephant

Red Elephant, originally uploaded by Dark Sevier.

Coming Mid-June 2006

Blinded by the Light,

LA Sand 014, originally uploaded by Dark Sevier.

Not what happens, but how we deal with what happens.

How we deal. How we see.

Violet blue green yellow orange
and I see red.
Keeping my head low on the pole.
crouched into this perspective.

So I can capture an image...

LA Sandprint

LA Sand 029, originally uploaded by Dark Sevier.

Remembering what I forgot
For naught
For now I want not to remember
as much as I want to do something
to be remembered and forgotten later.

Palolo

Kaau 059, originally uploaded by Dark Sevier.

Moss and Fern

Kaau 061, originally uploaded by Dark Sevier.

Life. Here>>>>>>>>>>>Now.
=
I Think I Thought I Knew It All and Gladly.


I am living this life
Writing these words to an audience
I don’t know.
You
May or may not know
Me.

I may come to know you
the audience of this writing
If I keep on writing
I may come to know you
the audience of these words
If my if’s are true

Dick Cheny Moon Bunker Lunar Republic

Moon2, originally uploaded by Dark Sevier.

Moon for Sale

Moon for Sale, originally uploaded by Dark Sevier.

I just found out about the Lunar Republic. I didn't know the Moon had a republic, but it does, and it's on Earth.

The Republic of the Moon has claimed part of the Moon, and is selling it to raise money to get there. Yep. It's all legal according to their website. They are selling 1 acre for only $20.00, on the sunny side (that way they don't interfere with Dick Cheney's ranch on the Dark Side).


I'm considering staging a coup de tat in the Lunar Republic. We just have to get there before they do, put on space monster suits and point ray guns at them, brainwash them, then have them sign over their leases and use them as slave labor to build a hydroponic green house. Then...

Wait, this just in...

I've been following the rise of the Lunar Republic for over two weeks now. They apearantly have a moon monopoly. From what I gather, the Lunar Republic aren't the only ones to have laid claim on the Moon, though they claim to be the only legitimate ones. The town of Geneva Ohio claimed it in 1966. A Berkeley science fiction club claimed part of it. A Chilean lawyer claimed the whole thing (apearently Nixon asked his permission for the NASA to land there in '69).

Then there is Dennis Hope's Lunar Embassy that claims to have sold over 300,000 acres on the Moon since 1980. He also claims exclusive rights to our Moon, eight other planets, and their moons. Some of the Moon real estate entities have been to court on their claims. Some judges throw them out claiming no jurisdiction over the Moon.

The US and Russia planted their flags there, but the UN prevented them from claiming it for themselves. Reportedly, the Lunar Republic have been in talks with India and Russia's space programs. The Republic wants to help fund Lunar missions in order to have their real estate registry delivered, thus sealing their claim.

In 2004 President W. Bush pledged to go back to the Moon and build a Lunar base for a mission to Mars. Ferrell Jackson, Managing Director for the Lunar Republic Society, claims the US can no longer afford it.

It sounds like the Moon is still up for grabs, until someone actually homesteads the place.

I wonder if I could be sued for transcribing a musing on the notion that the Lunar Republic funded Al Queda to initiate a war that has drained the US's Space budget. While the US is buisy with Iraq, Iran, and North Korea, the Lunar Republic Is talking to Russia and India. Just a thought.

Here'a another conjecturial thought:

What if the billions of the mystery dollars that Halliburton shines away each year is being spent on Dick Cheney's Dark Side Lunar Bunker. The Moon Treaty says that's a no-no, but when does Dick and Co. regard anything other than their own plans and plots?

Went to bed after that last paragraph and woke today to read THIS on the Washington Post. "U.S. Planning to Build Base on Moon to prepare for Trip to Mars". Last night was the first time I'd thought about Bush's space plan since it was news two years ago. Maybe the writer read my blog last night. Maybe Bush read my blog and decided he'd better throw it in gear lest the Lunar Republic show up the USofA. I'd much rather hear Bush talking about Moon dust and Martian water than Terrists and Armageddon.

More later....

King of the World

I usually don't get too topical, as far as "news" and politics goes. I like to try and write things that are timeless, that might have some poetic quality that allows it to live longer than the time it takes me to write it.

Well, treason is timeless. Mass hysteria is timeless. Dictatorships are timeless. Throughout my blog I have crypticly peppered hyperlinks to un-news: the undercurrent of the mainstream. A swift and cold undercurrent. I am moved to now to present some not so cryptic hyperlinks:

EX-REPUBLICAN SUPREME COURT JUDGE WARNS OF THE NATIONS DESCENT INTO DICTATORSHIP.

BYU PHYSICS PROFESSOR CLAIMS THE COLAPSE OF THE WORLD TRADE TOWERS IMPOSSIBLE... WITHOUT PYROTECHNIC HELP.

BUSH BUSTED FOR IGNORING CONSTITUTION...AGAIN.

I'm now compelled to re-post some hyperlinks I put up in October '04:

DOES ANYONE REMEMBER THE WORLD BEFORE 9-11?

THE BLUEPRINT FOR A 21ST CENTURY DICTATORSHIP

OPPOSED TO DICTATORSHIP? TRY THIS.

Oh, one more very recent item:

HOW TO PICK OUT THE CONSERVATIVE IN THE PLAYPEN

Linear Man

Linear Man 7, originally uploaded by Dark Sevier.

My venture into web toons. Go HERE to see Liner Man blog.

Kolohe: ??-??-?? - 02-23-06 R.I.P.

Recycled Dog, originally uploaded by Dark Sevier.

Weed Pulling Meditation: Introduction

TJ on Banyan under Albezia, originally uploaded by Dark Sevier.

WPMC Introduction

Humans aren’t the only force vying for domination of this planet. There are other forces that thrive on the destruction of everything around them.

The Albezia tree, native to arid parts of Africa, was introduced to Hawai’i by the US military to quickly grow and provide camouflage for their barracks and instillations. Now, half a century later, members of this introduced tree species are on a fast track to becoming the largest living organisms on the planet. Hooray for the tenacity of the Albezia and its efficient capitalization on the wet Hawaiian climate. Woe unto anything that attempts to live around it. Its dense, wide canopy robs the light from anything trying to grow beneath it. The massive lateral branches can run for a hundred yards at a height of eighty feet. They are brittle and subject to snapping in the tropical winds. A considerable threat to anyone or anything attempting to live below. Unchecked, it will cover whole mountains, extincting the plant diversity that has evolved for millennia. It will shut down roadways, crush dwellings, wreck underground infrastructure. It will survive as the fittest, at the expense of many other life forms. But they sure are impressive. Beautiful to look at, and awe inspiring in their grandeur.

This seems to be a natural event in the course of life. This phenomena can be found in the insect world, the body of humanity, geology, meteorology, chemistry, etc. It has been alarmingly accelerated by the human tendency to reshuffle the life deck and deal new hands to nearly every level and locale of life. We introduce ourselves, our ideas, our cultures, our loves, our hates. Our disease. Our advances. Our essence, which shares a commonality with all life. But, life tends to be alarming. Right from the start.

It happens in your garden as well. What evolved to grow in your chosen plot may no longer be around, or it may not be able to compete with what volunteers to grow there now. There seems to be no going back to what many consider a natural state. We can’t bring back the dead (yet). Fighting the mega-vitality of the introduced poses a formidable challenge. But there be hope for us, individually and collectively, to foster some kind of desirable, sustainable, equanimity in our gardens. There can be no specific manual for how to tame the unique chaos of each garden. The transformation of a garden from burden to benefit depends on the garden and the gardener, their mutual desires and needs, their will and volition. This manual proposes to offer tools for the gardener to use in developing a blueprint for their ideal garden.

A garden to feed the belly, a garden to soothe the soul, a garden to inspire the mind. A garden to aggravate the neighbors. A garden to kill you enemy. A garden to harvest for others. A garden to experiment with. Your garden can be chosen consciously and in harmony with your way. It helps work become play.

It’s hard to grow bananas in the desert, unless you choose to do so for the sake of the challenge. It’s easier to grow plants that are suited for your environment, but it may not be as interesting to you.

This manual covers my process of growing my ideal garden. I endeavor to generalize the lessons I have learned in order to broaden their appeal to a general audience. It’s more the travelogue of a process than a prescription of a method. Take it how you like. It’s not so much about what is written here, but more about what you hear in the writing. How you interpret this message. Go crazy with it.

Weed Pulling Meditation Center Manual : Chapt. 1

Weed Pulling Fingers, originally uploaded by Dark Sevier.

Official Weed Pulling Meditation Center Document

Lets start by talking about the word metaphor. I think the word deserves attention.

(m t -fôr , -f r)n. 1. A figure of speech in which a word or phrase that ordinarily designates one thing is used to designate another, thus making an implicit comparison, as in “a sea of troubles” or “All the world's a stage” (Shakespeare). 2. One thing conceived as representing another; a symbol: “Hollywood has always been an irresistible, prefabricated metaphor for the crass, the materialistic, the shallow, and the craven” (Neal Gabler). [Middle English methaphor, from Old French metaphore, from Latin metaphora, from Greek, transference, metaphor, from metapherein, to transfer : meta-, meta- + pherein, to carry; see bher-1 in Indo-European Roots.] met a·phor ic (-fôr k, -f r -) or met a·phor i·cal adj. met a·phor i·cal·ly adv.


I start with this word because I think a deep understanding of metaphor enables a person to make connections that might not otherwise be made. In my opinion, finding a metaphorical illustration to help convey the essence of what one sees or has a desire to share adds an additional dimension beyond the words used. To illustrate:

Before a garden can be planted, the ground must be prepared.

One could limit the phrase to seeds, weeds and dirt. One could also assign metaphorical designations to the nouns and verbs:

Before a desire can be realized, the conditions must be cultivated.

Or something like that.

The illustration of the garden (if one actually knows how to plant a garden) serves as a mental model to reflect upon in the process of realizing ones desires. Knowing what you want = getting the seeds. Knowing the ideal season and climate that the plants will flourish in = knowing when, where and how to act on what you want. Cultivating the desire = weeding out volunteer seeds that would compete with the ones you chose.

Now, I would like to propose that the act of planting a garden can serve as a meditation on, and/or a prayer for, the realization of ones larger desire. Even more, I propose that the real, active process of finding what grows well where you are (or moving to the place that best facilitates what you want to grow) serves to germinate ones natural desires if one opens their mind to them, and showers them with attention once the seeds have sprout.

Whoah. I’m mixing my metaphors here. On purpose. That’s my point. Metaphors can be two way doors. Or three.

Do you see what I’m saying? I ask this not in condescension, but as a literal question.

Do you see what I am saying? Or do you just hear the words? Probably neither since this whole thing be written text.

Get my point? I ask this both metaphorically and literally. It be my intent as a writer to prod your curiosity to read further. Then we can have a relationship. Without ever having physically met.

It be my desire to relate with more people with less effort. So, I concentrate my effort on defining clearly what I want to relate, and choose an appropriate medium for that want to be conveyed. Hi there.

Plumera Negative

Future Primitive, originally uploaded by Dark Sevier.

Future Primitive

I climb into my motor vehicle and begin to drive off. There are a couple of horses in the street. They look old, like they’d escaped from the glue factory. They were cantankerous as well. One kept sticking his snout in my window. His teeth were brown and curled like an old beavers. I drove on and found a strange dog that looked like a kiwi. A very pointy nose that flared dramatically into a puff ball of a dog. He was seriously injured. Half of his fantastically furry back was hanging to the side and his raw flesh was exposed. The Amazing TJ had said he wanted a dog. Well, here was something to test his resolve. We decided to try and fix it. What do we do? Tie the dog down and stitch him back together? Shave the fantastic fur first? Wash the whole dog in peroxide? We debated. This debate and vacillation took a very long time and many people were consulted. Eventually Mayor Mufi stitched the dog up on a football field with a full house.

This whole scene wore the colors of a 1970’s detective movie: dingy city colors. Mustard yellows and forest greens. After the dog surgery I found myself in a high rise married to a Pilipino woman. I don’t know how long I was married to her, but I didn’t know her name. She was very nice, and took good care of me, as much as I would let her. The building was noisy. There was a freight elevator outside the windows. I could push a big round plastic button and the elevator would stop at my windows. I had four windows. I opened one window to throw out cans, one for bottles, one for newspapers, and one for books. Then when I closed all my windows, the elevator would drop with a shriek of old metal and flip into a compartmentalized bin. I wore combat boots and all black and walked stiffly. Though I wore these things by choice, I looked forward to taking them off at night.

This scene had the hues of a 1960’s Technicolor film. I’m standing in a field of dead brown grass. There are a couple of pieces of hulking architecture with flaking paint that are partially overgrown with weed trees and vines. Large manors. “South Africa” I think to myself. There are people around. I sense small activities in the large places. I enter the massive arched doorway on the building in front of me and find a courtyard. A dark skinned old woman approaches me and hands me a piece of dried stiff hide with black fur on it matted with blood. She then points to a gorilla that has a terrible scabbed
wound on its back. She indicates that I should fix it. I protest that it is too late, this cannot be repaired. She ignores my opinion and returns to the building. The gorilla is outfitted with an iron frame with wheels like a cart. It’s head is in an iron hood with a slot to see out the front. This mechanism forces it to walk on all fours. I lead the gorilla cart through the courtyard to a marketplace. The place is not very busy and has the feel of an abandoned theme park. Managed decay. Julie Andrews is there. She informs me that we are not in South Africa, but Big Island Hawai’i. It seems that there had been a huge growth spurt, then thpphtht. Economic collapse. Fuel prices made it impossible for the tourist industry to continue, and the wealthy fled during the uprising. A stasis had been reached and a new culture took hold. It was brutally male, and yet the women were afforded a high degree of safety. Well, it wasn’t that simple actually. There was a self imposed caste system. Some people evolved into what resembled the Homo Noeticus, while others happily indulged in the id-ness of the Homo Sapian. There was a mutual respect between the two classes and mutual social interactions, but the divide was definite. The Homo Sapiens became the worker class, the Homo Noeticus employed them in building a sustainable infrastructure. Words were less a priority to both groups. The Sapiens were much more physical with each other, slapping each other around as a matter of course, the Noeticus communicated more subtly, and less redundantly, using words as tools, instead of spending them as social currency. Ironically, the Sapiens took over the cities, and the Noeticus spent most of their time and energy in the more rural parts.

Then a rooster crowed and I found myself in Waimanalo.

Does Anyone Remember Laughter?

Dino -1991, originally uploaded by Dark Sevier.

Sitting down.

Scotty Baron and Dark Sevier- 1991, originally uploaded by Dark Sevier.

I lost my sense of humor doing stand-up. Ha ha.

It was the early 1990's. Los Angeles California. Jerry Seinfeld was the King of Comedy, but relatively unknown. Bill Hicks was still alive, kicking every PC dogma that came walking down the Boulevard.

A&E's Evening at the Improv was defining the comedic craft for the rest of the decade. We all suffered for it: the comics, the audience, the art.

I bought it. I was in. I came to Hollywood to make it big, baby. The comedy biz was booming. In the mid 80's there were fewer than 50 comedy clubs in the country. By the early 90's there were over 500 possible gigs for the chuckle hucksters that were willing and able to work the road. Some of us hoped to bypass having to gig the comedy underbelly by being "discovered" in Hollywood. The cable comedy shows were multiplying, but they all seemed to be taking their que from the master packagers, the McDonalds of comedy, The Improvisation. The Improv discouraged improvisational comedy, ironicly. Ain't that funny?

The steriotypical Improv comic was wacky. Geeks. Freaks. Self effacing hacks. Really slick one trick ponys. No edge, no power, no guts. All they needed was a tight seven minuites and a willingness to prostrate their craft in front of the club owners, Bud Friedman and/or Mark Lonow . They were the perceived gatekeepers to the industry (I have my theory on how that came to be so, but it's too laden with animosity and conjecture to spill here, now).

The comics tried to unionize several times. They are a hard lot to get togeather for anything serious. As they should be. Perfect to a flaw. There was a comedy blacklist in the seventies when they tried to organize. Scabs took the stage in LA and NY, and for the most part still have it.

After honing my act and building my craft for a whopping thirteen months, I was ushered into "The New Faces" of the Improvisation. I was one of thirteen chosen out of over two thousand auditioning comedians. I was stoked, but puzzled. Why did my favorite contemporaries not make the cut?

We, the farm team, were encouraged to "hang out" at the Melrose club. There we would gain exposure to industry people. we might be "seen by someone". If a paid comic was unable to show, or the audience wasn't too badly bludgeoned by the idiocy and bitterness of the "regulars", we might have the supreme good fortune of being able to step in front of that famous (fake) brick wall. For no pay.

And we did. For several years, some of us. For several years some of the most incisive wits among us continued to audition, and fail to make the cut. This is my opinion of course, humor being a subjective thing. All I have, really, is my experience and perceptions of the whole thing.

Here is my favorite one;

A thirteen year old comic, Casey something, form New York spends the summer in LA with her nanny working out her act at all the open mic's in town. She's honing her craft for the big audition in front of Bud on the Melrose stage. Her big night comes. She does a great job in the two minuites alloted; great stage presence, solid, thoughtfull, and mature material for her age. She gets to sit at Bud's table for her critique. According to my agent at the time, who was sitting at the table with Casey, Bud congradulated her for a good job done, then began his critique:

"The joke about the Yuppies( "Yuppies are now writing childrens stories. The only problem is: they don't have any morals."),it was good, but have you thought about using the word ethics instead of morals? People might identify with that word better."

Casey was mortified, she was kicking our agent under the table in a plea for help. She was flaberghasted herself but managed to segue the canversation around Bud's mental wreckage. When my agent told me the story, I decided to quit the Improv Farm Team. and comedy. The guys that had been shaping my art were morons. I had been shaping my craft to fit into their pea brains. The perameters I had willingly squeezed myself into were pea braining me.

I see the comedian as serving the roll and function of the Court Jester, the closest advisor to the King. The Jester had the delicate task of holding a mirror up to the court to show them their folly, but in a way that didn't threaten his neck.

As a republic we need to be shown our folley so we can laugh at it. The laughter brands our folley so we can more easily recognise it when we face it again. Without the laughter, we live in isolation, in the delusion that all this is serious business. Life is not just politics and car wrecks. There is beauty and love and hilarious lessons to be learned.

Laughter is the best medicine. Where are our doctors?





(to be continued...)








(to be cont.)

Fool Cycle

Smoke 044, originally uploaded by Dark Sevier.

Art projects. Money Jobs. Relationships. Fires. Everything finds its end.

Like a fire, all these things must be stoked to continue. And I must be stoked to continue stoking.

Even the wildfire exhausts itself eventually.

Obsession

Loopy 8, originally uploaded by Dark Sevier.

It’s possible to keep a flame burning for years, though it may require burning the day in search of fuel for the night.

Ascention

Orionz 086, originally uploaded by Dark Sevier.

The life of the flame cashes in brilliantly on the investment of time. Hotly. Briefly.

Naturally

Palolo Ridge, originally uploaded by Dark Sevier.

The tree that finds itself rooted properly may enjoy ideal conditions that allow it to grow large and deep.

Effective

Bonzaisan 043, originally uploaded by Dark Sevier.

The person that finds itself may realize it has the option of choosing the ideal conditions that will allow it to be true to itself. And the responsibility.

Bliss

Saturday Bowling 009, originally uploaded by Dark Sevier.

The fools know not what’s at stake in this life, so their strife remains tied to it, moored safely in the known.

Onus

Halloween 062, originally uploaded by Dark Sevier.

The self aware know of the great vastness beyond the harbor of consensus, but have no hope of deliverance, for they must captain themselves.

Vapor Puppets

Vapor Puppets, originally uploaded by Dark Sevier.

Groovy

Kolohe in Goat, originally uploaded by Dark Sevier.

I'm under no illusion that I am supposed to be perfect. I could improve things about myself. I could modify my behaviours and enhance my state of being.

I'm sure that if I quit smoking, not only would my physical health improve, but my mental health would finally kick that nasty guilt virus that I caught while smoking.

If I spent more quality time with my finances, got to know them a little better, certainly I would find a beauty that has been hidden under the dread that I project upon it.

I think I burned out my zeal for behaviour modification. I used to do it. I used to modify my behaviour to achieve desired effects, and reaped the benefit of such effects. I thought everyone else was crazy for not having a testosterone fueled zealous passion for life.

I couldn't keep it up. I tried to be an excellent human. I excelled a bit in some ways that seemed simultneously epic and miserably obscure. Then, I became my predjudice. I got so heavily into my path that I beat it into a rut. Now I have a hard time seeing over the walls of my groove.

I have internal conflict. It takes up energy and I spend that time on a memory that I carry with me, that I reflect upon then call it me.

I think my life was more exciting when I felt there was some objectified god type entity that would answer my petitions and grant my wishes if I was a good boy. Now that I've realized how to take responsibility for reaping the effects of causes that I make, I don't wanna. Not today. Tomorrow. Maybe. Later, when I feel like it.

Life does not die with the form, it slips into another, infinite it seems. Trippin through eternity, gigging in this form. Comedy routine. The Art of imperfection

Fire over Wind

Orionz 040, originally uploaded by Dark Sevier.

What I Ate

Buggy 102, originally uploaded by Dark Sevier.

Woke up around 8:00am. Had a cigatette and some re-warmed coffee from yesterday while talking with Carson. Talked about the prospects of moving form a dichotomous political/social system to something else.

While at Manland I heard the familiar tune of the lunch truck that drives around the back of Waimanalo selling plate lunches. It's actually and old ice cream truck. It plays the first few bars from The GodFather theme song over and over. I kept pulling weeds in the rain and waiting for the truck to pull in, but it never did. I walked back to the house and made a tunafish sandwich on cracked pepper garlic bread. The bread was a little tough, so I steamed it before grilling it with butter.

Carson made a nice salad this evening that had beats in it.

Later I made a cheese quesadilla with red pepper. Dipped it in salsa verdi.