Smoke and Fog

Moon at night, falling around the Earth

I've spent the better part of the evening worrying a chancre sore with my tongue. It's on the lower right side of my mouth; inside, on the gums. The sore feels huge, but I don't think it's really as big as my tongue thinks it is. Tongue feels huge. My whole head feels big.

There is often a low-hanging mist in the air when you drive into the small town of Los Molinos. We like to play the guessing game: “Smoke, or fog?” Lately it's been mostly smoke. I wouldn't take a bet on fog for less than five to one odds, and even then I think it would be a giveaway.

Starting to get a glimpse of some of the movements swirling around. We got into a strong current of dissatisfaction and demonstration, and that seems to be disseminating towards debate and strategy. “Strategy” is probably too conscious of a word to describe it – the thing is more fluid than the word strategy evokes. It is sometimes painfully confusing.

Sign of the Times

Word on the street has it that Representative Wally Herger is retiring from Congress, after something like a quarter of a century of service. I've written to Herger on occasion, and always received a prompt and polite response. They typically include the phrase: “and even though we may not see eye to eye on many of today's important issues...” somewhere in the closing paragraph.  I appreciate the effort anyway, and the stationary is very nice – thick, quality paper.

Representative Wally Herger has announced his plan to retire from Congress

I'd read that as a sign – the old way moving on. Even though another old-way advocate will likely take his place, it's still a dramatic shift. It's something worth paying attention to. Old people in new roles might be more receptive to change. But I am afraid sometimes that these guys play the same game. They've become entrenched. One begets the other begets the other. Even when one side takes power from the other, the arguments still stay the same. You could have followed the same thought processes in 1970, or 1930. Are we moving forward at all?

Dance for Rain

There's very little moisture in the soil and less in the air. Even though the plants and trees are mostly bare and dormant, they still need weekly watering. Water is what we need right now, in any form: snow, rain, sleet, fog, hail, drizzle, slush; we need it to knock some of this smoke out of the air.

Phenakistoscope - Waltzing Dancers
 click image to view animation.

The Quiet Revolution

You know I think, I hope, I pray that we can do this thing, that we can make this transition here with a minimal amount of violence. Violence, some people say it's necessary, but I don't know about that. That seems to be a circular way of thinking. It's a logical loop; someone is committing violence against you, you strike back at them. But it's endless, and hopeless. Violence always begets more violence, until someone decides to walk away... Can you really walk away?

I think you have to.

madbob@madbob.com

The Girl with the Drake Tattoo

Makes as much sense an anything else this year

Well damn – only a couple more of these to go and we are done with the year 2011. Onto twenty twelve – is your bunker well stocked and secure? I'm serious, mine is woefully inadequate at the moment, so I am looking for more prepared souls whom I can latch onto When the Shit Hits the Fan (hereafter referred to as WTSHTF, in case I may need to use it later on in this piece). Ah but that's alright, come what may, makes not a bit of difference. Right now I've got a fire going, two lazy dogs trading places beneath my feet, a good looking woman reading a novel on the couch, and a one-third full mug of stiff eggnog; and plenty more where that came from. Live in the moment, and this moment is pretty damn good.

A Bit of Politics

“Seeming to do is not doing.”

-Thomas A. Edison

I can't resist – the longer this Republican race goes on, the less able I am to avert my eyes. It reminds me of Charlie and the Chocolate factory, with all of the candidates riding along and being ejected, one by one, in these increasingly horrifying scenarios. Okay, well, really only Herman Cain has ejected in a truly dramatic fashion thus far – but there are so damned many of them! The potential is there! And then  that humanoid bobble-head “The Donald” comes jamming himself into the picture every so often, making preposterous statements, causing a ruckus, and then disappearing back behind the curtain; probably feeling like some kind of discombobulated Machiavelli. He's amazing though in that he doesn't actually do anything. Then, of course, there is the specter of Sarah Palin lurking back there somewhere. They really ought to just declare the “fuck it” ticket and run a Trump/Palin or vice-versa package. They could pay down the debt by broadcasting a reality television show from the White House – primo advertising; get some Kardashian style money that way. Didn't I mention something about WTSHTF earlier? In the immortal words of George W. Bush: “BRING IT ON!”

Curses and Passion

Oh fuck me. This is not the direction I'd intended to go with this column. But I didn't plan a direction when I started, and so now the energy is just going where it's going. That's what happens when you send energy off unfocused, undirected, leaderless. Passion makes for a great seduction, and passion can lead to a vicious and bloody killing spree. I used to really make a point of not using too much foul language in these columns, but at this point, what's the difference? I mean, some cracked out chick got DRAKE tattooed across her forehead, and some tattoo “artist” was willing to take her money to do that – so what genuine panic is an f-bomb here, or the s-word there, going to create?

There is nothing shocking anymore; not when there is death and mayhem, blood and putrefaction running on the nightly news. The year 2012 is almost upon us and we still haven't figured out how to solve our differences without tearing one another limb from limb. So Merry Fucking Christmas.

Here's an oldie of the author, post holiday panic

madbob@madbob.com