17 February 2011

i lit out for some peace and a crackling wood stove

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The purpose of presenting the world with my twists and turns is to get the attention of the inner eye of suffering hypnotized people. If I'm doing an okay job of it, I'm not getting a fix on it, and I'm tired of being chained to uselessness. I was a stone cold hermit for many years, OUT of all this palaver we call "the world". It isn't that I don't love the world. It is more that the world doesn't love the world... and so can't hang with stuff that falls too far out of the hypno-zone. It has ever been thus. It just feels worse now.

And there's that dream when my father came frantically to kidnap me and put me into my real life. So. I have not stopped blogging, and I don't think I'm going to stop, but SOMETHING has to budge in a big way. I might have to go back to spending the bulk of my day with the ancients and only small bursts with the world. Or I may have to try to get some fiction written. Or I may have to MOVE, however impossible that seems on this end of it, further out or closer in. We're getting very close to the point where structures start getting mowed down and progress happens, the cutting off of that nose that has had to be regrown so many times in my life.

Something.

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Former CIA agent Ray McGovern, an outspoken critic of US foreign policy, stood silently in the auditorium's center aisle, and turned his back on Clinton.

For his symbolic and otherwise non-disruptive protest, he was quickly accosted by security agents. As they struggled to pull him out of the room, a CNN news camera caught the tail end of the ordeal.
How long? WHAT does it take?

You know, I do that when there's somebody at the head of the room pumping us full of shit. That is PRECISELY what I do, and have done my whole life. I turn my back on them in front of everyone in the room. School. Zen temple. Lecture. Supervisor's meeting. Board of Forestry meeting. Wherever people are gathered and somebody at the head of the room is lying or saying something completely unacceptable. THAT is how you communicate that you're not having it. It is NOT your wimpy kind of peacenik gig. It ruffles peacock feathers in a big way. Seven-year-old stormtroopers on steroids come and maul you for it now... because you let them.

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love, 99
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15 comments:

  1. what dream? I've been visited twice by my father (deceased) in my dreams. Sits me straight up in bed. No words, just presence.

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  2. I had myself one hell of a dream today and it was at once perfectly clear and deeply opaque. It being my father coming back to kidnap me and drive me with all the recklessness of a Hollywood abduction scene into a world of great scholarship and creativity and spirituality, and me not being able to make out whether he was asking to come back or telling me I couldn't come back or he couldn't come back, or what, I'm kind of a mess.

    In any case, staying stuck in fear is for totally worthless nitwits, not true humans, so whatever....
    —99 on 11/19

    I can't spit it out in full yet. It is too near. Too intense. Too important. He'd been dead less than a month.

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  3. Crackling wood stove...

    Now I'm jealous!

    Actually I hope it was the fire, not the stove that was crackling!

    Been there, done that - my ex couldn't get the fire going in the wood stove at the farmhouse we were renting. She called me at work and said it was just smoldering. It was 29 below zero and she was cold.
    I told her to add some of the dried cedar shakes I had split up for kindling. Then I told her if that didn't work to bunch up some newspaper and put it in and open all the dampers to induce a draft.

    She proceeded to stuff the stove with as much kindling as she could and then crunched up about a month's worth of newspapers and crammed that in too then lit it.

    My next phone call was her crying frantically. I could hear the stove in the background going whoosh - whoosh - whoosh as she told me the whole thing was glowing bright red and chips of cast iron were popping off and shooting across the room.

    I told her to close all the dampers then jumped in my truck and headed the 17 miles home picturing a flaming house.

    As I rounded the curve in the highway I spotted a fire engine at the end of my driveway with its lights flashing and the highway patrol was pulling up with its lights on also. I about shit!

    Then I saw that there had been an accident right there. A friend who I hadn't seen in a couple of years was coming to visit. As he made the left turn into my driveway some idiot decided to pass him. Idiot ended up down the embankment into a big snow drift.

    The house was full of smoke coming from the dampered down stove, but no real damage had been done. In fact the soot was cleaned nicely out of the chimney. Of course a chimney fire is NOT the preferred means of cleaning it. Particularly in a 120 year old brick chimney.

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  4. I, on the other hand, am the world's best fire maker... and if you wouldn't mind moving me to my cabin now... and make sure enough wood is delivered... I'll be quiet and stop bothering everybody.

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  5. The look on the salesman's face, I'll never forget it.

    "This is the one, perfect."
    "Do you need us to install the stove Mr. OTG?"
    "No."
    "I will need 2 3ft sections of 6" stove pipe and a stainless cap."
    "OK, only 2 sections of pipe?"
    "Yep."
    "I do need some help carrying it out to my bus."
    "What?"
    "The stove, I want to take it now."
    "It's the floor model"
    "So, you want to sell it or what?"

    The best part was carrying it into the strip mall parking lot, some people see the bus and you can watch the synapses trip'n the breakers. Their head twitches slightly, while the brain tries to reboot. I love it. **System error** flashing across the forehead. Bewildered.

    This guy has to help me get a 350# cast iron stove up the stairwell of the SAF-T-LINER.

    Ah, the memories. The stove salesman. Right up there with taking some friends to the liquor store, in Utah, in a school bus(before I painted it).

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  6. taking some friends to the liquor store, in Utah

    I couldn't find a liquor store in Utah.
    Went into a bar but couldn't buy a drink - you had to bring your own new, sealed bottle. You bought the mixers and ice, the bar tender poured it and when you left you had to leave the bottle behind for next time.

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  7. Back on topic...

    The incident with Ray McGovern makes Hillary's statements regarding protests in Iran even the more absurd!

    She is without a fucking clue!

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  8. moving me to my cabin now

    I am afraid the cabin is under about 15 feet of snow right now...

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  9. We'll have to dig then.

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  10. She's Charlie Sheen in space lizard skin, the UBER Addict. After that national dick sucking incident, she needs a nuclear war just to get her jollies. I think she kicked Palin's teeth out during that speach and looked solid doing it. Lord help us.

    Some counties don't have booze in Utard, remember your dealing with people in the promised land, kinda like Israel.

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  11. Sometimes I wonder where I'd be if I could spell.

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  12. Make that 22-27 feet of snow - we got 7 feet more yesterday, 3-5 feet more predicted today.

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  13. This will make you run out and get that 2TB slave cylinder on sale now at Amazon. Intel Corp Chief Executive Paul Otellini will be named to a panel of experts advising President Barack Obama on jobs.

    Better through in a Keiser report to wash that down. Welcome to Fakeville

    Max is way out front on virtual currency. Oh, and silver is at $32.

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  14. Okay. A tunnel then. We can tunnel down to my cabin and just hoist me up for the grocery store every so often...

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