The Rubber Wall

Shade Of A Tree

2009-10-21T09:30:00.003-06:00

See sideways settle down
See holes find purchase in your eyes
See happenstance decide

Perforated lines crisscross the planet
Bent to and fro
Moments from letting go

It will finally come

And though too many hear but the sound of the Drum
Remember those of us with ears for a Flute
Don’t pull back but twice shoot

Definitions tired and falsified will breakaway
Fewer tomorrows lost to today
There will be wholesome smiles, uplifted again

We all could stand to lose the weight
Sitting has danced its last with fate
Evil shall no longer pinch us twist chalk and slate

So continue your harvest as always
What will, will be
We know why, the shade of a tree

Always Forward

2009-10-15T08:15:00.002-06:00

If the days measure fitful, you need first master the chaos inside.

If the days prove the depth of challenge, useful is that cool core within, as the marbled pillar of the temple.

It is your eyes that dance the line between the world’s pain and your own, as sacred stained glass buffeted by winds from far away lands and from the torments churning deep in your soul’s cave.

Your pain is your beauty.

It is not a cause of despair, but of delight.

Your triumph takes the breath from crowds, makes people fear their own paler skin, this I have seen.

There is nothing wrong with what has fallen.

Fruit of the Garden, stars from Heaven, leaves from the olive Tree.

The is no faith to be lost in the future.

Turns of the prayer Wheel, followers of the Hundred, sanity finding Sense.

Be not bedazzled by the flashing ripples of the water’s surface.

Know Blind,

but know the flowing flower form of the swirling fluidic expanse touching everything, as your oars work and push this row boat of your life Forward, though we are fated to only face behind us, to stare but at the past.

We are Always forward. We are the Shore.

Is The Ticking Getting Louder?

2009-10-15T08:09:00.000-06:00

Hey Look, Post!

2009-10-06T12:45:00.001-06:00

...ok, I feel better now.

Security Clearance

2009-08-12T12:56:00.004-06:00

Another event had cast another person under some suspicion of berserker sympathies--this time not directed at a computer program. One of the more timid souls in strategic headquarters on Earth--in fact one of the premier's personal advisers--had recently put forward a suggestion that the space atoll called Fifty Fifty be evacuated. It was a small, exposed outpost, hard to defend against a superior force. According to this point of view, all Solarian forces should be pulled back much nearer Earth, preferably entirely within Sol System, where they could concentrate on playing a purely defensive role. A logical extension of this strategy--if one can call it a strategy--is that Port Diamond might as well be written off too.

The timid soul who came up with this proposal was promptly transferred Earthward, to a different and less important job. At least he had not advocated abandoning Earth herself. No one above him in the chain of command gave his ideas any serious consideration--except as basis for review of his security clearance.

-Berserker Fury, Fred Saberhagen

Eyelids' Blessing

2009-07-30T09:09:00.001-06:00

"The most merciful thing in the world, I think, is the inability of the human mind to correlate all its contents. We live on a placid island of ignorance in the midst of black seas of infinity, and it was not meant that we should voyage far. The sciences, each straining in its own direction, have hitherto harmed us little; but some day the piecing together of dissociated knowledge will open up such terrifying vistas of reality, and of our frightful position therein, that we shall either go mad from the revelation or flee from the deadly light into the peace and safety of a new dark age."

-lovecraft?

Got Your Handbasket Ready?

2009-07-14T11:27:00.001-06:00

This Is How Crazy It's Becoming

2009-06-18T09:04:00.001-06:00

Suitcase With $134 Billion Puts Dollar on Edge: William Pesek

June 17 (Bloomberg) -- It’s a plot better suited for a John Le Carre novel.

Two Japanese men are detained in Italy after allegedly attempting to take $134 billion worth of U.S. bonds over the border into Switzerland. Details are maddeningly sketchy, so naturally the global rumor mill is kicking into high gear.

Are these would-be smugglers agents of Kim Jong Il stashing North Korea’s cash in a Swiss vault? Bagmen for Nigerian Internet scammers? Was the money meant for terrorists looking to buy nuclear warheads? Is Japan dumping its dollars secretly? Are the bonds real or counterfeit?

And Thus...

2009-05-12T15:33:00.002-06:00

*Tending The Dirt Babies

2009-05-08T09:05:00.000-06:00

OLD SPACE BLOB!

2009-04-23T08:21:00.002-06:00

"A strange giant space “blob” spotted when the universe was relatively young has got astronomers puzzled. . . . But what’s most remarkable about this blob is its size: It's 55,000 light-years long, which is comparable to the radius of the disk-shaped Milky Way. According to many theories of the universe, nothing was supposed to be that big at that time in the universe. The other objects from that period are far smaller, Ouchi said."

-story

(you mean we're not 100% sure of our scientific theories??? damn it, I'm going back into the zombie shelter... er, blob shelter)

And Good Riddance

2009-04-17T08:25:00.002-06:00

...the future, or the future as a lot of people are hoping it will be: pared down, more natural, more stable, less full of enervating overstimulation, of what Walker Percy called the "trivial magic" of modern times.

Some Common Yet "New" Sense For US Foreign Policy

2009-04-07T15:55:00.001-06:00

In this volatile setting, direct American military involvement in conflicts where the U.S. itself is not attacked and its national prosperity is not at risk should be avoided. Otherwise, American military involvement could cause 21st century conflicts to spin out of control and confront Americans with regional alliances designed to contain American military power; alliances that but for American military intervention would not exist. It is vital the U.S. not repeat the mistakes of the British Empire in 1914: overestimate its national power by involving itself in a self-defeating regional war it does not need to fight and precipitate its own economic and military decline.

link

Another Light At The End Of The Test Tube

2009-03-25T10:51:00.001-06:00

PORTLAND, Ore. — U.S. Navy researchers claimed to have experimentally confirmed cold fusion in a presentation at the American Chemical Society's annual meeting.

"We have compelling evidence that fusion reactions are occurring" at room temperature, said Pamela Mosier-Boss, a scientist with the Space and Naval Warfare Systems Center (San Diego). The results are "the first scientific report of highly energetic neutrons from low-energy nuclear reactions," she added.

Link

Reminds Me Of Someone

2009-03-24T12:00:00.003-06:00

"For more than a year McCoy had kept the secret of the still. Only a Scot could have done it, one gifted with all the caution and canny reserve of his race. Little by little he had exhausted the principal supplies of ti, and for many months now he had been able to obtain no more than enough to operate his still twice or, rarely, three times each week. A small stock of bottles, accumulated one by one, were hidden where he concealed the still when not in use; by stinting himself resolutely, he managed to keep a few quarts of his liquor set aside to age. In this manner, which had required for some time a truly heroic abstinence, McCoy was enabled to enjoy daily a seaman’s ration of half a pint of grog.

"His temperament was an unusual one, even among alcoholics. When deprived of spirits, he became gloomy, morose, and irritable, but a glass or two of rum was sufficient to make him the most genial of men. Mary had been astonished and delighted at the change in him. He conversed with her for an hour or more each evening, laughing and joking in the manner the Polynesians love. He romped with the two-year-old Sarah and took delight in holding on his knees the baby, Dan. With his grog ration assured, there was no better father and husband on the island than McCoy."

-Pitcairns's Island,
Part Three of The Bounty Trilogy,
Charles Nordhoff and James Norman Hall

Powered Panel

2009-03-10T11:17:00.005-06:00

The overwhelming pain is less than I can bear.

The smallest fears threaten only my larger parts.

I’m too late to care if the appointment was missed.

She’ll never love who I am not.

The future creaks like a well-oiled doorway in a horror movie.

Tonight I will load my pistol and unload it.

The thoughtless harsh words I spoke to him never left my mouth.

My regrets of a lifetime have yet to be defined by my death.

Blindness seeks me, but I save vision insurance.

Murderers find me well prepared to defend.

Cataclysmic tremors of the earth belie not my adaptive foundation.

I will not, not.

I am what I am not, when resting in hell.

Salvation is a daily medicine
for what follows life as what traces the sound of a bell.

Noble Fear

2009-03-10T10:47:00.003-06:00

Nub Of The Mountain

2009-02-19T09:29:00.003-07:00

Writing so much seems a choice:

Advice or Confession.

Outside Inside

2009-02-19T09:23:00.002-07:00

Outside Inside

The cat cries and I
Leave the room.

Tonight is all.
As ever any moment we see,
Is all there ever Is.

Again, as always,
I hate to sound fatalistic.
But for the mere fact,
I am mortal.

Pain is Beauty.

It is an unfortunate factor
(and probably some mathematical integer,
widely used in the metaphysical disciplines of the future);
That we conscious,
Find the simplest path to a Beauty Focus
Only when surviving the Pain of the moment.

Perhaps it is a burden of too much seeing,
Too much scope.

This burden denies us true panoramic vision
As it seeks to prevent our minds from madness.

To see all is to not have an eye.

Most of our moment of memories must
Rely upon individual givens.

The eye is truly I.

So darkness begets light begets darkness,
In a Camphoric code of unintelligible morse,
As we blink the days by.

There is no plateau.

We exist as simple beings,
Blind to our eyes,
To our inherent complexity.

Rate Of Change

2009-02-05T10:52:00.001-07:00

Increasing, are border principles of faith and forgiveness.
Time, in relative degrees, dictates
Actions of speed and speed of action.
Can we speak in clear terms?

We are in a period of retraction,
The teardown before reconstruction.
This is the sound when paradigms die.
It is a moment where we see for seemingly the first time
The height of Bullyshyt gripping our knees.

Turn off the Telecasted mono-mind Vision.

Who are you;
What are you prepared to do
If the system that sustains civilization
Hiccups, slows, or stops?

How do you fight the emerging combination
Of Industry and Government?
(i.e., the base definition of Fascism)

I can’t resist letting the poetry slide into diatribe.
The measure of our hours is growing ever more critical.

Estimate your truth, now.

Aside, this damned mixing of the right brain, left brain!
It’s as if half of our heads was invaded
In the deep past by some parasite seeking symbiosis.
It lives in your head as:
I have a gun, I have a flower;
I see a flower, I see a gun;
I am a gun, I am a flower.

No body is building anything any more.
Only money is being created.

It affects prices.
But not in the neighbor/neighbor barter situation.

God speaks to us in whispers between
The top of the hour and the first minute.

Poetry of life; Prose of life.
Meter your reality to the taste
Of beauty and continuance.
And to the stripes, the layers acknowledged
Betwixt personal definitions between.

Dude I need to see the rest of the movie!

Life in youtube-esque clips.

Rate of truth.
Measure of you.

Keep your debt free,
Your heart clean,
And your powder dry.

Orwell on Kipling:
“He sees clearly that men can only be highly civilized while other men, inevitably less civilized, are there to guard and feed them.”

I am fearing the overly civilized men, the elite.
I fear that their abuse of civilization shall affect my hours,
Shall affect my view of men, as they become a mass,
Shall affect how less civilized I may have to become to protect
What remains of our better nature.

The details are in the devil
And I adhere to the principle,
I am not the devil.

Fear is responsibility.
Locality is becoming the first Rule.

Civil War?
Is this 1862?
Where is Lincoln?
Do we need to be these united states?
Do we begin to question the reach and claim
Of the District of Columbia?

What sense in Paine?

Last Friday Of February

2009-02-05T09:06:00.003-07:00

Broken kindling for the year
With grease in hand
We stare at darken gear
With momentarily fixed findings
We spot the planet’s motion
And tomorrow begins today

The life we dream locked behind lids of eyes
Lids of Yes closed in crowd dynamic functions
Dreamy motions and light crossing intersections
Of conscious evolution created, rejected, yet surviving

And we try to plan
And we try to forecast the early light of dawn
On this new, delicate and different day

And so no And

Nothingness is becoming recognized sight
The Invisible left invisible
Unlucky retrograde blinding those in fright
In fear

You see
Without pass
Others will lie where I lay

New Names through the twenty-first century
New weight and meaning to satisfy reality

Goodnight Nurse, Hello?

Serious Answers For Serious Times

2009-01-27T12:31:00.000-07:00

Looks Like A Game Of Pick-Up-Sticks

2009-01-22T08:38:00.000-07:00

R.I.P., You Superman

2009-01-14T15:46:00.003-07:00

>Ricardo Montalban, the Mexican-born actor who became a star in splashy MGM musicals and later as the wish-fulfilling Mr. Roarke in TV's "Fantasy Island," died Wednesday morning at his home, a city councilman said. He was 88.

(also a small role in StarTrek II)

...the silver screen just got less teh awesome...

Roll

2009-01-12T13:49:00.000-07:00