Commentary on the conversations of our time...

Saturday, September 09, 2006

Stuck in the mud with the greatest of ease

- Stuck in the mud with the greatest of ease -

Kind of like numb.

Or alive like lightning.

All or nothing and everything in between.

Not unlike white noise of such sufficient volume and thickness to drown out the loudest storm.

Did you hear of the latest air crash? The war wagged by the dog is over? Gas fell 30c and is now a dime or two under 3 bucks. Sign Kyoto yet?

Of course auto insurance is up, as the hurricane tempts the nerves on the 1 year anniversary.

Not unlike the curse of 3 generations of alcoholic haze.

Where is the light of day when the clearest skies are day after day? What day is it?

Some say the dawning of the Age of Aquarius, the Mayans say December 21, 2012.

The cost of a college education is about the same as a high-end first year salary? Or also about 2 times a good one? Or about 4 times a normal one?

Anyone ever been the luckiest guy on the face of the earth, and have the weight of the world on your shoulders at the same time?

Since the day you were born?

Got a shovel? Anyone dig holes faster than the greatest super hero?

Of course the gold nuggets of the most gleam rarely sit on the surface.

But then every now and then a diamond sapphire or ruby glistens in the washed gravel bed of the stream too.

I wonder if anyone still wants his or her MTV, or perhaps reality TV is the new cliché.

Read anything good lately? How about the drilling of an IPod, IS the white noise the channel of choice?


Sounds like a song from some Top 40 computer program.

Its a fucking mazing what the world sounds like with sound absorbing earmuffs on after about an hour - and you then take them off.

Just for fun try it.

Try it in all the different settings of your fish bowl.

Its not unlike setting down in a garden after years of concrete jungles.

A moment sitting on the shore of a quite beach, after a lifelong career in the garbage dump.

Perhaps a moment, or better an endless string of moments, after a decade of super highway semi commerce.

At the end of the day I want my cake, and I intend to eat it too.

Perhaps if we all have to earn our cake, the taste will be better?

Perhaps the cake is really just porridge.

Does oxygen come with a meter?

Do the flowers have time clocks?

Is life, or life just is?

What we make it?

Or made for us?

All I know is we can, we do, we will, we might

Or not.

The rest is all a choice we have.

Of course making the choice is not the same as having it.

How many choose?

(for Karin, Harry P, Bette and few others)

I was thinking about trying Frog Legs.

I was thinking about trying Frog Legs.

There is this restaurant I drive by on my way to my favorite downtown Jackson coffee shop (The Thunderbird, Go Jon) that used to be known for doing a real good breakfast crowd. And they always had a sign outside extolling the specials of the day or week for the non-breakfast hours.

They used to be known for having good pie too.

Lately the sign says frog legs. I’ve always wondered about frog legs and over the years every now and then thought maybe I should try them, after all I LIKE TO EAT.

I like to go to new restaurants when I travel and sample the local ambiance of new establishments and sample their wares. I visited the Moosewood in Ithaca, lots of different places in Chicago including The Rosebud Café during my MANY trips. I used to really like the Inn Season Café in Royal Oak (the owner was also a bottled water customer of mine way back in the days yore). SEVA in Ann Arbor used to be one of my favorites, the owner there was also a bottled water customer of mine, but he sold the place and I haven’t been back. There used to be a real good German Restaurant in Stockbridge whose chef was formerly at the Campus Inn in Ann Arbor and on and on my travels have been. Lately I can be found at the Crowe’s nest every other weekend, as they have the world’s best tomato soup.

You might get the idea, my fine dining establishments and hole in the wall adventures were (are still) pretty much endless.

The Frog Holler Produce Station in Ann Arbor used to be a bottled water customer of mine too.

So I wonder, those plump meaty frog legs must be quite the mouthful? I doubt it. If they’re anything like the smelt I had on the way back from the ski trip a few weeks ago, you need lots of em to get a belly full. The smelt made me sick and I was all messed up for a week afterward but that’s a different story. The whole idea of eating minnows really grossed out the kids and that’s all I was after anyway – but I paid dearly.

So what do they do with the rest of the frog? I’ve never heard of frog tenderloins or frog back straps (I think the same as tenderloins but I would have to ask Ted). Has anyone ever been able to find frog breasts at the market? Frog jowls? Pickled frog feet (they do that with pigs after all). How about frog fritters? God I hope there’s no frog wings around – those little front arms would offer so little to nibble on.

So it just seems a waste to me. Those tender little deep-fried nibbles of frog leg and the rest of the little beast doesn’t even make it into hot dogs. Well maybe it does, I just don’t know so I wont say definitively. But it has never came to my attention.

Frogs after all do eat lots of bugs. They make real nice music in the summer evenings. The large mouth bass like them too. SO it’s all about habitat, and balance and nature and why the heel would we waste a whole frog if all we wanted to eat was the legs?

Frogs are also endangered all around the globe; the frog habitats are drying up in LEAPS and BOUNDS. Did I mention many frog species are now mutant, especially near Savannah River and Hanford Nuclear reservations. Want to talk about strip malls parking lots and wetlands preservation? You just knew I would tie this to water didn’t you?

I decided not to try the frog legs and I vote at the cash register when ever possible.

I’m just saying.

On LOVE and HATE (and other spoken expressions)

On LOVE and HATE (and other spoken expressions)

Has nay one ever noticed when an angry word is spoken, those near by cringe in response. As if being physically struck? It hurts?

I have to admit in my anger I’ve said things I regret. As much as we might agree that pain and emotional wranglings of youth can grip us for minutes, hours, or days – when it comes to adulthood, the pain of relationship can drive us to the brink of exhaustion.

And in that space – pain cannot only dominate the ability to see forward, but impact our minute-by-minute perception of our reality.

I could go on for days about the reality of our perception being fluid. Subjective. SUBJECT to interpretation. Not today. Today lets just think about the choice in the matter.

To choose to recognize the life vibration. That every synapse, every neuron, every nerve fiber and every circuit, and every atom, every molecule, every muscle, every bone in our body vibrates in harmony and as such is in tune with every thought we ever process, day, night, waking or asleep. We are tuned in to our bodies AND every other body on this planet.

Every bug, every flower, every tree, every drop of water is connected – and in tune with every other. If one suffers, the whole knows it. If one smiles, the whole knows it.

Unlike the bugs, stones, flowers and trees – we humans are supposed to possess the ability to make sense of it all and as such make choices.

OK. Sure. Makes sense to me – NOT.

If we bought into that definition there would be no more wars, no more hunger, no more disagreement over petty things. It can’t be that simple.

We are emotional beings. Our ability to reason is in continuous flux and fluid peaks and valleys. And amongst the morass we seemingly exercise the ability to reason and make choices that forward out motion. Make a difference, in not only our lives, but also the lives of those we care about, love, and our extended human animal and earth family.

So why is it such the morass?

Is it we have pushed ourselves to the limit? Have we taken all our Earth has to offer and given far less in return. Are we out of balance?

People are suffering the world around and some would even say fighting for survival. We are at a point some would say of leaping to the next level, or digressing to the last.

A turning point so to speak.

Minute by minute, choice by choice, every thought we think, every move we make – influences the outcome of the whole – micro and macro.

Food for thought:



from the best writers.

Designed to assist young persons to read with propriety and effect; to improve their language and sentiments; and to inculcate some of the most important principles of piety and virtue. With a few preliminary observations


By Lindley Murray
Author of An English Grammar, etc etc

By Israel Alger, Jun. AM
Teacher of youth, Editor of the Pronouncing Testament,
and Author of Key to Book Keeping, etc etc

Baltimore: Published by Cushing & Jewett, No 6 North Howard
Street, and by Lincoln & Edwards, Boston


SECTION I. – Happiness is founded in rectitude of conduct.

All men pursue good, and would be happy, if they knew how: not happy for minutes, and miserable for hours, but happy, if possible, through every part of their existence. Either, therefore, there is good of this steady, durable kind, or there is not. If not, then all good must be transient and uncertain, and if so, an object of the lowest value, which can little deserve our attention or inquirey.
But if there be a better good, such a good as we are seeking, like every other thing, it must be derived from some cause, and that cause must either be external, internal, or mixed; in as much as, except these three, there is no other possible. Now a steady, durable good, cannot be derived from an external cause; since all derived from externals must fluctuate, as they fluctuate.
By the same rule, it cannot be derived from a mixture of the two; because the part which is external will proportionally destroy its essence. What then remains but the cause internal? The very cause which we have supposed, when we place the sovereign good in mind, - in rectitude of conduct.

(For anyone who may have noticed, I tend to write (speak) in a assertive tones. I DO NOT pretend to have any mastery whatsoever of anything I ever share with you folks. Rather I’m searching, and sharing as I go along. Thank you for coming along for the ride).

I am old enough to remember Get Smart.

I am old enough to remember Get Smart.

My playground knows me. As I move about many of the door gently open before me – no questions asked, and quietly close behind as I pass by.

Some of the doors take a little more effort, a gentle pass of the hand past the proximity switch on the wall and they open too.

A few of the doors to the more closely managed zones know my presence as my imbedded RF pulse is sensed, and then once more, I am allowed to pass.

My playground knows as I move about from area to area, and depending on the sensitivity of the local need – I am provided free and unobstructed access of gently escalating degrees of effort to open the door – and on occasion needing to ask permission and seek acknowledgement for the right of passage.

At times it is difficult to separate the notion of being at one with my zone – or my zone being at one with me. In my idealistic at ease mode of contemplation and focus of my attentions it seems we are at one with another.

To be able to walk out amongst the systems and spaces and hear feel and see a new whisper vibration of change. And at worst stop and inquire.

The playground makes note of every passage – updates the database and melds the inputs with the accumulated temperature humidity pressure and floating dust.

The neural network never forgets (in theory, backing up data is for another discussion RE: volatile and non-volatile memory), learns as it goes (applies what it was told), and without reservation – applies the code.

a friend does the same - As people are trained (taught, imprinted, osmosed) to respond to their friends and loved ones, often the lessons learned by disparate teachers get applied to people of whom may well not be present in the current time and place.

Our relationship(s) are not unlike the synergistic relationship of a Building and its Operator.

To move about in the course of us-ness and have a feel for the other, to anticipate the needs and actions feelings and responses to any given situation. The logic of code is not always the law of the land in the interpersonal realm.

People of histories, insecurities, confidences, trainings, wishes and aspirations, expectations and achievements, bills t pay, friends and loved ones to consider, and safety to ensure.

The building has fences, sensors, emergency contingencies, and in a worst case scenario often a Fire Suppressant System as well audible auto-call for local alarm as well as dialer to alert the emergency response crew.

Within the realm of relationships we often choose partners to satisfy various strength and weakness driven needs of our own, and on occasion various strength and weakness attributes of the other.

We have our sensors, our foundation, our needs for safety and security, and we communicate with or selves and our partners by way of various verbal and non-verbal means of interacting with those in our lives:

A recent conversation with a dear Friend – reprinted with permission:

Insert conversation here: MYSPACE BUGS

My career was mostly involved with presiding over building demolitions, old hospitals, old factories, and countless homes. I used to wander thru the vacant structures with a reverence for the lives which once occupied them. They were proud buildings once, full of life, living, creating, - and now only shells of mortar steel and brick. The vintage art deco fixtures. The creaking wood floors, only echoes of the once vibrant alive-ness. And I vowed I would rebuild my Karma with buildings, help save a few instead of tear down and make way for the flimsy structures that replaced them. Buildings with systems built with pinched pennies, often with systems that fail under normal operating conditions, let alone extreme mood swings of weather climate and occupants.

I only met and married once – waited a long time.

After 25 years of college at night while working full time, hundreds of building demolition and renovation projects – I have found my vintage art deco building. My building knows me, rarely talks back, always amuses, knows when I am near, greets me with the same vibration of home every time I visit, and feels like home.

But lost my marriage in the process.

After all that – like an old abandoned building, I am homeless too.

Starting over. Lucky if not gifted for my children, ex-wife, family, and friends.

In all fairness RE: my marriage – she was/is the finest lady I have ever met - I let her down far more than the reverse. To both our credit, our children continue to show me daily what a fine job we did in the most important areas of our life together.

I only hope to practice what I know – rather than get caught up in what others believe. If there is any lesson for me after all this time, it is that what others believe is only that. Truth like beauty is in the eyes of the beholder.

Far to many people I have met only shuffle thru life, to truly dance is rare.

And like my building, my friends know me too.

Even Max got his nose stuck in the door in the end – but Friday stuck by his side.

The Desert Planet…

The Desert Planet…

Perhaps it would be fun to think and write about de-forestation. Might be more fun to consider the Eskimos have no existing words in their language to describe the weather patterns and ecosystem changes and effects currently happing in the far North.

There is something to be said about Global Warming. Which from the start let me suggest is a media invented buzzword that only the media has a use for. At least as far as news ratings go.

Yes the scientists employ Cray Super Machines to model global weather patterns, forecasts, and what if models. Yes cousins of the same scientists spend careers estimating the aggregate gain or loss of solar energy as varying ebb and flow of glacial snow mass, surface water conditions, plankton populations, and land mass and its vegetation characteristics, etc. Satellites are also very useful to analyze urban sprawl

A few very bright engineers can predict the spring runoff in California based on partial satellite imagery and forward looking fuzzy logic models based on very limited quality images that represent a small ratio of the actual geographic sum total snow coverage of the area. A few other bright Engineers figured out how to model the power grid and predict peak loads with the same fuzzy logic codes. As long as we can still cut down a tree and throw it in the boilers’ firebox, we will be able to juice the computers to think for us.

But it might be fun to play with the far better term of “Global Climate Change”.

Yes it’s a given we have a vested interest in whether the Earth collects more energy that it gives off. A balance is one of those things our short-lived generations seek to foster for our limited comfort zone and piece of mind. But rarely is the balance Mother Nature seeks, strutting to the same tune as we mortals.

The Earth has its cycles, its no accident the complete known history of our civilization only exists post last ice age. Either we weren’t around before, or we forgot. There is very little room for a 3rd option.

This is not the place to debate the biggest question of whether there was something else before the last time the big ice melted.

It may be the place to debate our chances of being around for the future.

These few sentences are to capture and the thought I had while driving last night…. More to follow later.

In the mean time compare the Greek / European / American systems of Great Pirates fostered specialization with how it works on Arrakis. (borrowed without permission, if you visit please say thank you to the stars)

Come back and visit later……

Lets take a test drive

Lets take a test drive

After what seems like walking barefoot (on broken glass) for longer than I ever would have imagined, perhaps it’s time to take a car for a ride, and see if I can still remember how to drive.

That feeling of wondering about maybe driving again. What would I drive given the chance? One of those new modern cars, I hear the damn alternators are water cooled, or would I be more at home with a car that has a little less newfangled high maintenance features. A car with experience in the ways of driving – one that drives itself instead of relying on constant user feedback? Perhaps a car that can both drive it self and allow a little mutual road rally dancing – autopilot or drive by the seat of the pants. Where is the comfort zone with this new means of transport – does it need premium fuel or cough sputter and croak – can it live of the land a little – how about a little fresh table scraps in the flux capacitor (Back To The Future style) – oh how precious to go with the flow. I can remember the smell of leather seats when getting into a new car for the first time in ages. As apposed to the familiar I know every creak and vibration, the response to eh steering wheel of the bumpy dirt road vs. the roll and sway of a lane change as we motor down the highway – remember that Fall cruise for the colors, and being one with the car so well that you can look around at the tree lines and clutch/shift/steer/brake completely detached from the act of driving? And then get behind the wheel of a car never before driven, and you cant find the windshield wipers, how so you turn on the lights, how do the brakes feel, can I start this damn thing without having my foot on the brake? Autopilot.

What, I was doing 90 in a 70 zone? Couldn’t be – it only felt like I was rolling at 60, I’m very sorry officer I’ve never driven this car before and I just don’t have a feel for it yet – thank you so much for giving me a break and I promise to use the cruse control and pay more attention.

Do I have gauges or just warning lights, do they work. When I start he car do I hear and ticking or feel a rumble – oops the stereo was cranked and suddenly my attention span is completely focused on nothing I had thought about either moments, minutes or hours earlier.

Where is that dipstick hiding, I guess it would be nice to check the oil before I take that first spin. Hmmmmm, I rolling at about 20 mph and I can feel that slight thump thump thump in the seat of my pants – I wonder how soon I will have to replace those decent looking glass belted radials that seem to have a lot of tread life but obviously will drive me nuts with belt separations as I drive the highway commute on a daily sail. By the way does the car pull to one side or the other at 80?

How do the tunes sound, are the speakers blown, does he CD player work, what type of tunes does the car like to have playing – and how does it roll when the rockin isn’t the norm? What would happen if the radio stations weren’t programmed in, how easy to navigate the settings?
Will the means of transport alternate back and forth between driving and being driven seamlessly – can a true collaboration be possible? If the rain comes with the windshield streak and blindness set in, or would the car be just as happy in pulling over and discovering a new roadside café from the completely random and fate inspired rainstorm.

Should I just keep walking for a while, and I ready to ride in a car again and participate in that collaborative process of getting somewhere I could never get alone?

Do I remember how? Am I up to the drive?

Nothing comes too mind......

Nothing comes too mind......

Nothing comes too mind

The suns out, it rained last night.

Been thinking for a while about just writing something creative. Not because I have something to say, not because I have to, not because anyone wants me to, maybe that's why I haven't. Better yet maybe that's why I am.

Maybe not.

The material from my library I've been sharing has been fun, keeps me thinking, keeps me on the edge of my seat. I've picked up many many new folks on the buddy list in recent weeks, and there is some minor validation in growing numbers. There is even larger validation in the quality of emails and comments that come my way and there is no satisfaction if doing poor work.

I have what seems like endless and continually flowing ideas of what I want to put up on this canvas that is our Internet fodder for consumption of my energies, and funny how it works - I'm also still after all these years trying to focus my energies.

Somewhere along the way I conned myself to believe if I could just get organized, it would all be more fun, more efficient, more productive, less strain, less, less, or more.


Not easy.

It isnt.

Nothing ever has been for me, at least not in the normal sense.

It's swimming pool season, and there is much work to do to get organized and offer a coherent broad swath on the art and science of healthful happy enjoyable therapeutic recreation in the pools. And they can be dangerous. At the very least hurt the eyes and skin if things aren't right. Last week I went camping at our regular southern Hillsdale County private site. I could have thrown a rock and hit Indiana (I miss my Hoosier friend). A friend with a few acres and a pond with springs flowing cold year around. For some reason I don't really like to swim there, mostly I think because there are no showers available when we rustic camp. The other thing is the use of weed control chemicals. I think its mostly in my head rather than anything I can reason out the small fish do thrive around the edges, chasing the bugs and flitting about the surface. As a side bar I went for trip down the road to the Granddads Hotel and helped keep an eye on the teens that were taking advantage and using the pool for a while. WORSE pool Ive seen in years. I swam anyway, but then my standards are pretty high too so it wasnt really all that bad in the bigger scheme of things. From the macro view two things about indoor pools if you can smell chlorine when you walk in to the pool, there are water quality issues and dont swim. If you can stand at the shallow end and NOT see the main drain at the deep end, dont swim.

But that's all just technical info about water quality both in ponds and pools. I could regurgitate from memory volumes and pages and days and days of this stuff. Want to know about various issues and regulatory boundaries of landfills? Interstate transport of solid waste, garbage form Canada trucked to Michigan, type II with liners, how about type III for construction waste non-friable asbestos can go in a type II but friable double bagged needs to go in a type II and be covered up every day to prevent any blowing about and migration of contaminants. Normal household waste also goes in a type II the only difference is the daily covering up part.

See? Its just technical info.

I could ramble for days about HVAC too. Heating Ventilation and Air Conditioning. Or refrigeration, charge optimization for R12 R134a R22 R409 how why and the economic impacts and system performance of the various new refrigerants, and why some of the banned ones may have been better and more effective thermal movers (oil and moisture management matters too), how about clean room? Want to talk about duct control in semi-conductor plants? Power paint and auto paint facilities? Pharmaceutical, coal dust is explosive in coalmines. Indoor air quality in homes schools offices sports arenas no smoking in bars and casinos in Windsor now, most of Canada too for what I read.

How about energy management?

Want to delve deeper into religion and the history of human philosophical development?

I do.

I want to do it all.

But I want to write too.

That's why I said nothing comes too mind.

The brain regurgitates data, but it's with the mind that we see thru the haze, grasp the part we can't see feel and touch.

It becomes an act of faith.

Which of course is the difference between religion and history.

The difference between myth and fact.

The difference between con and service to humanity.

The difference between artificial sweeteners and sugar.

Pure cane sugar.

Do a test for me?

Close your eyes real tight and hold them tight, can you gently and slowly begin to focus on the inside of your eyelids and then begin to see the human electric juice flowing thru the nerves bouncing back off the retina?

Can you see what begins to be the bright flashing moving lights?

You just said hello to God.

The truth is out there.

It isn't in the data, it’s a leap of faith.

I believe.

Its all in the mind, we will never find it via the human ability to reason.

So I guess something comes to mind after all.

(This isnt about what you might think it is, but then feel free to make it about anything you wish).

A dew.

Freakin Schmeakin Schpeakin

Freakin Schmeakin Schpeakin

What happened these past month or two?

Seem like it was the holidays, everybody was writing, blogging, working, dating, chilling then wham. HorseyRuth got ctrlC'd by a young waif who later recanted, Zena got a ditto – and better yet all the friends of the nefarious copy queen defended her actions as all within the bounds of fair play – I went off on her for stealing and ethics and all that crappie shit no much credence paid is attention – SuperBette nearly toasts the shiny part of her as down the freeway on a sprocketrocket minus a rear tire, Schmoozette gets all wound up after a great run quits for a day then comes back roaring, BigBoatQueen goes off on the VartyPeople kind a like the village people except their nothing alike except having people in the name, ChillyPalmer takes on after the popularity game and kicks out one of the funniest pieces of graphical photo literature I’ve seen in 15 months of bloggdom, IonThat is doing his bit terrorizing the dark side of the fence Youropeans, BamBams arsewipe boyfriend rises to new heights of arsedom a day before a family funeral, and now we be literizing over the finer points of urinaling vs literature whilst freaking out about it, a friend calls another friend a thief plagiarizer and then gets ripped apart by a seasoned pro who could fry your eyes out with one look of the pen (keyboard)…..Did I leave anyone out? Fill in the blank _____________________.

Did I mention I’m homeless, have been for four years – but my kids are OK which seems to make it all worth while (by the way I make sure me Ex’s basic needs are met too).


Have we all forgotten the US Constitution and Bill of Rights gives us this privilege to play and make nice in the manner of our choosing (two separate things for those of you who are anal enough to swim in details like me).



I propose everybody get the fuck off the wagon, sit on a bench by a stream, pond, lake, ocean of your choice and listen to the water – IT WILL TELL YOU SOMETHING

I haven’t met my standards of behavior all the time in recent months and NEITHER have any of you – LOOK IN THE MIRROR AND TELL THE TRUTH.

Anyone behaving in a civil fashion, but tossing out written efforts for the sake quantity just for of rankings? Anyone neglecting homework for the MySpace crack?

I’m guilty on a few integrity points and I suspect we all are too.

If we respect our craft, and each other – I PROPOSE A TIME OUT.

Lets take one step back and smell the roses. The apple blossoms will be out in DC soon, I remember it’s quite the special time.

I also remember we are the (including the talented writers I haven’t met yet) cream of the creative crop (it isn’t in Hollywood anymore).

MySpace and the lesser traveled personal free speech zones on the Internet are the happening place to be – and if we do it right – WE CAN MAKE A DIFFERENCE.

If someone gives me shit I’m going to thank then for helping me look closer, not attack him or her. If someone gives a friend of mine shit, I’m going to thank them and politely seek a productive resolution. If someone gives himself or herself shit, I’m going to do what I can do to cheer them up.


Whine snivel, crab, parry, sidestep and volley?

Aside from stupid teens promoting drinking parties and posting inappropriate pics, aside form predators hunting younger vulnerables, aside from Government snoops – I suspect the vast majority of folks on the Internet are decent intelligent folks. If we put our heads together and work together – we can alter the game. So lets raise the bar.

So in celebration of SteamGeek’s National Free Speech Day I propose we all got to the following link and repeat after me (type it in the blank):

“I’ve been a crapper, and from now on I’m going to play like I’m in the sandbox again”

For those of you who don’t get the message, loosely put “everything I need to learn in life I learned in the sandbox” or something like that.

Want an example for cool things we can do on this free speech Enterprise? and

Talk amongst yourselves, no more throwing stones.

Chop wood, Carry water….

Chop wood, Carry water….

Non-lineal life. Object oriented programming or the feared endless do loop. The carpenters say measure twice and cut once. For the non-builders, a measured double check will result in a properly cut piece of wood. The converse either being scrap, or used later for a smaller piece. This concept of the double check. This concept of being efficient and safe.

This concept of trusting ourselves. We know therefore it is. Don’t jump to conclusions when the emotional mind reacts based on a neural programmed self defense mechanism based on previously experienced input. Not much different from Pavlov’s dog. And live in the moment. It seems like a contradiction doesn’t it? To see the same from the same story, and forget it means something. On purpose.

Don’t second guess – go with the gut. To live is the opposite of to react. To design is to create, to live is to do. To make promises bigger than you believe – is to stretch. To play safe is to crawl in a hole and do the ostrich dance - and trust the world will still remember you are part of it.

To swing an axe at a piece of wood – knots, grain, muddle, bark, and feel. See. Hear as an immoveable object takes the blow. To not give. To watch a child swing the axe and leave a scratch, with the log still proud and un-assailable.

To sit in a lawn chair, hold an ice tea in one hand and work the hydraulic lever with the other is not chopping wood. There is no relationship with the tree. To sit in a chair and watch, is to not be in life.

The act of creation - or destruction, can one be without the other? To bring forth something from whence there was nothing. To write from a clean slate, without note cards or reference. To chart a path then follow it, or to follow the path set for us.

Or just take a left – we are all warned to stay on the path.

Why follow. Create and design the road, the only rules of which to apply are those that we decide are such, unless others decide for us.

Slave over the machine for a 30-cent raise every year for 30 years and take the shit. And my child's milk goes up 60. When the friend will annihilate you to gain favor or cover or for no reason. Eat shit and be a slave to the machine, it will tear out your arm - rip out your heart - bury your soul - so you no longer feel. Be loyal to the furnace of human consumption.

To see the grain, read the pulse of the log – that lived for a hundred years, with one swing of the axe produce two pieces where once there was one – is to be one with the grandfather. That tree saw wind and rain, listened to wars and conquests, grew from where once was a field, listened to canoes ply the streams – long before the steam whistle in the distance – broke the stillness of the dew bathed morning.

To not think, but to swing, and worship the tree that stood longer than any man – and harness the force while paying respect. As the embers rise to the stars from the campfire.

To teach a child that to consume without respect is to waste. To teach a child to see what others don’t - know what others won’t - hear what others will never listen to given the chance or not. Teach children to believe in themselves, respect everything that breathes – learn from everything that offers – give everything back and trust selectively.

We need far less than we have, the child is born with everything it will ever need.

Live in the wonder.

To split wood with a hand tool. A chainsaw will reduce an 100-year-old Oak to nothing in moments. To be warm and be sheltered in a cold world is a noble sacrifice for an old tree – but. Are we still primitive? Did the loss of the tree make a difference to the carbon dioxide or to the oxygen that will never be – did Gods carbon scrubbing artwork serve the noblest purpose – is there balance. Where will the owl live? If we were efficient would we clean windfall and have enough, while also managing the healthy Oak. Do we all need an aspen, do the aspen need the Oak? Are we cold?

The worms need the leaves.

Perhaps it’s about training, training the mind to not deceive us – training ourselves to live with our mind? Training our being to listen to our mind – are their 3 forces at work? I can still remember my Father teaching that our bodies are nothing more than a vehicle for our something else. He didn’t specify what else – he didn’t need to and he sure hit the nail on the head. Consciousness or the spirit of the being of human being isn’t flesh, bone and blood? And every fiber of every cell hears and feels every vibration of every other – wherever it is in whom or what everywhere. Is it the life force, the bio-chemical electric? Is it the neural electric circuits and force roaming the minds computer – the marvel of the self-programming computer that our mind is?

Time slows as the speed increases, beings on a space craft traveling at great speed will age slower than we on Earth – likely so on a 747 but tougher to measure.

Light from distant suns bend as it hurtles past stars and planets on the way to our viewing portal.

An electric current moving electron by electron will arrive at the far end of the wire but likely the sign waves pound along a perpendicular path as they bound lengthway down the wire.

Perhaps we / our human minds conceived the notion of lineal time.

Martin Heidegger was on the chase with Sein und Zeit (Being and Time), thousands of years of summary in one work. Why have we forgotten so much?

Perhaps linear is not a concept that occurs in nature at all, we needed to invent the notion to account for time – from our view. Perhaps our view is blind. Gravity bends light - perhaps our view is also bent. Perhaps we feel straightforward - but see askew.

Perhaps our view, is what limits us from knowing – as though there is more to see feel touch experience, understand, perceive, contemplate, grasp.

I think in circles – no straight line ever took me home. The destination planned is a trap to ensure our comfort. Our comfort is a trap to prevent our seeing something yet unseen. To see what all else see is to repeat the mistakes of others.

The physics teacher who instructs that water conducts electricity needs to know. He needs to learn something beyond what he was taught. As long as his radio doesn’t fall in his tub.

Perhaps the human spirit is to create rather than re-model. Why rebuild that which fell?

Shall we all go fishing in Pinedale Wyoming?

I am the child - again - still - forever. Luckily I remained so thru it all - I can still see what others seem to swallow - fight the future before we become one of the machines - or the machine becomes us.

Listening to: PS: A Toad Retrospective, Toad The Wet Sprocket

Friday, September 08, 2006



I was fairly (significantly) disheartened to find a new Blog-friend wasn’t an X Files fan. After all the filming was in her back yard for the series. (I don’t recall where the movie was filmed).

Remember those Bees? The plan of the nefarious daring do(er)s was to breed and raise Zeno-Bees. At the strategic time of choosing the bees would be released to go forth and spread DNA amongst the human masses. I don’t exactly remember the plotline but basically I think they were going to do the birds and bees type nature dance with the pollen and the honey – and the DNA would make it into the food chain and thus then humans – with customized DNA would be the result.


There was also a weekly series show dedicated to Zeno-Bio Pigs. Much has been written on growing new organs amongst livestock for transplant patients – want to talk about ethics? I'm not up to it but maybe another day - save it for a rainy day and we can chew the fat – or if you need to make the rain, ask the Chinese.

Remember the famous Dr Frankenstein movies of our youth. The black and white versions where the good doctor scavenges dead body parts from graveyards of the neighborhood? Rigghermortus sets in? Simply stitch back together in a format that works for you and apply electricity from a lightening storm – and and and – LIFE springs forth.

The scientist would have us believe that millions and millions (actually more than 2 millions) – BILLIONS of years ago there was no life on this Earth. As the story goes in the days of rock juice and water, lots of sloshing and blending, sloshing and blending, mixing and blending amongst the tidal pools and the earliest versions of enzymes gently formed in the great primordial soup of Earthly life origin. And eventually as the story goes these earliest chemicals grew and morphed and then one day by some miracle of happenstance – the spark of life spontaneously self generated.

Suddenly bacteria complete with DNA and metabolic and respiration processes were the new kid on the block.

So we start with a teasing of human intellect combining un-like species into a hybrid and unnatural form of life – and harkens back to the shadow world of yesteryear to before even bugs swarmed the flowers.

Flowers with no bees? Wait right there, how’d the pollen get too and fro? I don’t know, don’t ask. In the beginning there was the word and the word was God.

And the world was created in 7 days, and we showed up – and that all you need to know – no, you shut up.

Then those little bacteria got ambitious and formed them selves into multi celled organisms and then fish then reptiles then mammals AND THEN HUMANS.

The Biblical version of creation is not for today either, so chill out.

But what’s all the fuss about Bird Flu? It’s a bird dammit. A virus from a bird (with unique bird flu like cell stuff) might make its way into a human (breath deep) and then combine with human viruses (swap DNA) – and Houston we have a problem.

I’m not a medical guy so I’m not going to bore you with the details – just trust me – its Zeno-Biology much like I mentioned above.

Its hybrids. Something new from disparate origins resulting from the combining of two un-like life forms.

What? They can breed? Two bugs of different varieties?

Well not exactly, maybe, but this swapping of cell juices (isn’t that what everyone’s doing nowadays) has it’s merits?

That’s how a mosquito does its nefarious business. Ticks too. They insert the proboscis, the juices from the bug intermingle with the juices of the host (hosts are people too) and pretty soon you have the potential for trading of genetic data and the result is an infection by a parasite. And the parasite shares juices with the host – and other parasites in the host share juices with the other parasites – and in the case of bacteria – new life forms result with some combination of the characteristics of the two previously separate life forms.

It happens everyday. Yep.

And the Mexicans come to the US and settle down and we raise a stink about it.

And for decades and decades (more like hundreds of years) the Europeans fled the persecuted home land and settled in the US – met one another in the market place church or factory – intermingled and soon we had babies of mixed ancestry.

The Germans bred with the Polish, the Brits with the French – they with each other again – soon the aliens took over. No one is a local except a few Indians and maybe a few Amish. (Just joking about the Amish) – but those Mennonites? The X-Files did an episode in this touchy area – the truth is out there.

But what about those aliens? Intermixed varieties of DNA with the normal run of the mill Earthling?

Can it happen? If the ship landed would we spot it from NORAD and have a proper welcome?

What if it was a bug? Would Mork from ORK carry a mosquito in his intergalactic EggShip? If it got loose would we all suddenly speak Orkin? Would we all suddenly become secret agent pest inspectors with a secret agenda to propagate the alien DNA amongst the cockroaches of the world? Or just via the Home Shopping Network and plants from Tasmania.

What if we inhaled deeply a mold spore? Ever crawl around into a dank dusty basement and come back with allergies? Ever crawl around the attic of an old church and wade thru bat shit? Guano? There are bugs in that there black gold. Bacteria, mold, God knows what other nefarious creepy crawling microscopic life forms.

But what if our planet on its interplanetary tour of the 365 day cycle sped its way thru a cloud of interstellar mold spores?

What if they don’t have DNA as we know it – put they still propagate in 600-degree water, grow and reproduce? (That’s boiling plus almost 400 more degrees).

What if we breathe in these spores, they embedded in our lungs and grew, released new spores, shared their DNA with our bodily metabolic processes – and we were now a hybrid?

Would our white blood cells and natural bodily defense systems see them as foreign visitors into our inner sanctum and go to battle?

Would the new life forms fight back?

Who would win?

How would they (we) vote?

Stay tuned.

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