Sunday, July 5, 2009

Spongy Fungal Contemplations

Where to begin, or, why start at all? That's what perplexes me, not that you give a damn! Does everyone start with something in mind, some great need to tell a story of some event, some experience had, some heart rending tale or warning or threat? There is some need I have, but I can't be sure exactly what it is or what it means to me. I write because I need to. It pleases me. Putting it down in black on white matters, some "entropic" part of me is nurtured by it! It is an attempt to understand, set things straight, or correct situations gone amiss or amuck or amoral or amorous, whatever. Henry Miller said if we were really living fully we would have no need to write, as though we wrote to make up for what we cannot or will not allow ourselves to do. I am sure that's true in my case, to a point, that is.

("So much fission, so little time!")

So a new day moves toward an end point, a dying of sorts. I am just an observer here in a field of illusion, knee-jerking at everthing, reacting, counteracting, contracting in place in a very dark place trying to save face. I ain't no hero, like I might have wanted to be when young. Just doin' my thing in this baffling thing called life, scurrying about like the rest of the roaches, being approached or coached or poached by whomever as I go. I stay at arms' length if I can, don't want some unfriendly spore boring in for a free ride or free lunch. But remember, "If the Foo Shits, Wear It"!

Well, I was all dressed up with nowhere to go, hair in place, toes in place, nose in place,fingers, hands, arms in place across the space in the ballroom placed here for this event, this stint,this masquerade of chit chat spattered on the walls, halls, ceiling, floor, and the slithering scheming scherzando crescendo blasting the dancers to bits that fly through space at light speed, no need to press the best to ones breast, all are one and mingled masterfully by the compositional uncomprehensible, Oh, Do Dah Day! Talons and beaks, chestnuts and freaks, bangs and fangs and knives plunged deap, frothing, and drooling lips painted thick to the quick, the notch in the belt, in the pelt that hung on the wall in the hall with the awards, what gall, so modestly displayed filleted in this dark charade, the second act, I believe, where the bereaved took leave, and headed for the coast with the holy ghost! Good God, Man, what a scam, a sham, with disdain and teeth beared, but no shame! Where did she dump the bones, Jones? Why you wearin' that baracuda mask, my sweet? Got more chewin' to do, more slashin' and gnashin' and trashin' and gashin' to perform, more blood to let yet, more organs to consume just to make it though another grey cast day with that plastic smile on your face, Grace? Who you doin' next, my pet, who the next victim, my vixen? The mechanics of time are doin' just fine on that amorphous display of a body you call home, all alone in that skin bag stretched hither and yon, hither and thither, hitherto for and beyond, all those stretch marks settled in for the long haul! Blond or brunette or bush league balderdash all the same to me now, insane to me now, refrain from me now, disdain for me now! What labels you wearin' today, Baby Doll: Humanoid Post Toastie, Your Upsmanship, Post Human Amorphous Blues, Radically Practically or Fu Man Chu? Who do you think you are, or do you think you are? Bonkers and crazy looney toons, the way of the wierd and the smug baffoons, all snugly and cuddly in their smarmy pile for a while, all warm and steamy, a runny smile! So, I met the misleading and obscure parameters for being, becoming, altering appearances, shape shifting, ship shaping, slippery sloping and snotty what have you, for all that's worth! A modicum of morality defered to modality, excruciating excretions, etc., all for one or two in the bush, the shrubbery, wild bramble scrupulous buggery, bombshells and beaurocrats and bodascious bohemians blogging down the boulevard for all their worth, hippity hippity hippity hop! Then the night fell like a concrete slab, KaWham, shattered and splattered and scattered all over the street my feet stand on, rage on, rave on, slither and slipper and slide along on, glide and ride and dive on, into the depths of the deep dark dark, so dark, dead dark, that no echo occur, no light define, no surface scene, no reflection beam, no god redeem! It was turgid, Man, with a Quavering hoot! I coulda been a contender, but I moseyed on just to see what that felt like. Next time I get out of bed the other side, head on down to the Feine Machine!

Anyway, it's another frickin' day full of hopefull and healthy pessimism, I mean the best of all possible pessimism, not your limp surburban pessimism, but the "Down Town" type! It's in your guts, so well intrenched, not even Jesus can surplant it or drive it out with any bad ass, bad to the bone exorcism! So, what my friend Michiavelli suggests, is to embrace that pessimism like a new born babe, hold it close to your breast, and nurture it, feed it, sing to it, and contribute to it's growth, Amen! Don't turn it away to wander helplessly in a world of theatrical Optimism, but take hold and lead it into the maelstrom of the chaos and anarchy that is! Revel in that pessimism, revel in your time! Remember that beauty is in the eye of the pessimist! But, that's a whole line of DooDah, just a rant on an ant!

Mineral Analysis
Chemical Analysis at Competitive Prices! We Get Your Rocks Off.

So I wandered through the day thinking of Zircon Crystals and Olivine Grains, elements as old and older than our Earth. Why do such a thing? Because I can! But then comes disturbia, a reaction unexpected, a silly thing, really, a chance encounter that zings to the core, and here I am writing at 4:00 AM, because I cannot fall asleep! Why is that? Some child, with a foul mouth and foul attitude, surprises me! How can this be at my age? A button pushed, I suppose, an old wound tweeked, given a pinch! Someone hit my "Disgust" button, and I walk off like I was sucker punched! But this silly twit has no clue, was just being cute, so to speak, charmingly stupid! So much for high IQs and honor students! That is no indication of sensibility or clear, rational thinking! And especially appropriateness! We all have feet of clay, and I suppose I am being reminded of events and experiences that I felt wounded by, and am vulnerable to! For some reason I came into this world expecting impossibilities, taught by people who expected those possibilities also! But it was not to be any more for me than for them, no difference, and possibly more injurious for me! Such a silly thing, and such a reaction! It seems to be shit I just can't avoid, over and over again! Just another example of getting up on the wrong side of life! Fucking germs in the brain stem! What's the Ooz Factor for this inability to deflect, to defend against, to divert? In Tao it makes no difference, and what someone else does, what has that really got to do with me, unless I take it on? Intellectually I can run the numbers, but emotionality is my weakness! If I were just a mechanized, digitized humanoid, I could simply hit the "Delete" tab! And we may be closer to that than we think.

25 December '09

Mac checked out October 18th, 68 days ago! Mac left the building, the city, the state, the nation, the world, the Cosmos, tippie toed into a Parallel Universe, another dimension, another reality, time frame, existential plaine! Location unknown! Left no tracks, no note, no clues! Took the cats with him, Mac and two cats scat back to the trackin' lanes of the distant galaxial axies, stranded like DNA across space/time! More later!

I wrote about her when I first met her, she liked my legs, watching me from the pool while I pedaled the stationary bike! She gave me an inviting look one day that I couldn't ignore, and after introducing ourselves, I was most taken with how she spoke my name, like gentle music, the sound of her voice! I was taken in, floating on that sound, a vapor in the wind! She was married to her second husband at the time, lived in Westwood, a step toward Nouveau Richedom, a step on the ladder to the Holy Grail, the wantabe wealthy! It is a mix-mash of the hopeful up-and-comers, and I hung out near there at that time, a renter, not an owner! Since she was married, and I wasn't looking for married affairs, I didn't pursue her, though she was very enticing at the time! I was forty years old, feeling my oats, but there was Suzanne Robinson and Becki Hale available to me at the time, though Becki suprised me, being married to, so I had an affair with a married woman I had not intended to have, very lusty excitement, but all undercover, which I had hoped to avoid! Suzanne was single, never married, but coming from a privileged background, a Mission Hills upbringing, out of my league, with her own set of issues to deal with! We never had sex, and we might have become addicted to each other if we had! It was twenty years later, when I moved back to Kansas City in the year 2000, that I accidently discovered she had died from cancer in 1996! I was very sorry to hear of her death. She was married to someone who she was happy with, at least I hope she was!

So I moved back to California, spent seventeen years there, and one time called Kansas City to talk with the woman I first mentioned, "She liked my legs, I liked her voice" woman. We had a brief talk, and I called again when I moved back to Kansas City in the year 2000! I left a message since she wasen't at home, and she returned the call immediately from Grass Valley, California, where she grew up and was visiting her mother! She seemed excited to hear from me, was separated from her second husband, so we had a few dates, I expecting something as I did when I had dated April May in Big Sur, who's husband had just run off with a masseuse, April 50 years old, in trauma, what the hell was I expecting? And here I was again, expecting something of a woman who was also fifty years old and just separated from her second husband, fifty pounds heavier, two sons, one from her current husband, one from her first marriage, and I walk in where angels fear to tread, a real glutton for the impossible and for punishment! I was into addiction mode again, a real knack for jumping right into volcanic situations! Fuck Me!!! We had a date Valentines Day, and she wanted me to talk about my one marriage, a marriage ended twenty-six years previous, and I thinking about a romantic dinner, the only real Valentines Date I ever had, and it was a bummer, no shit, a real bummer! She was flirting with this silly kid waiter we had, a bad sign! The next night, going by her house unannounced, she really blew a gasket. Then broke off contact shortly after by telling me it was "allright if you call, allright if you don't!" Needless to say, I didn't take that well, but she really did me a favor! I didn't have to suffer through her separation and eventual divorce! Zarathustra Blessed Me!!! Lucky Fuckin' Me!!!

So I am at the Feine Machine last Sunday, talking with my friend Dale Shughes, when she walks in and smiles at me, and it occurs to me that it might be her, so I called out her name as she stood at the counter placing her order! I already knew she had divorced and remarried, having called her office one day some time ago and hearing her message about having changed names again! Her voice was really giddy with excitement, a giddy psycologist, a "Life Coach", as her business card reads. Maybe the third marriage is the Shangrila of marriage, but I have known people married twice as many times, marriage addicts, you might say. She had let her hair grow shoulder length which was the first time I had seen her so! Actually I don't know why I bothered to call her name. Just to see if it were her? And why bother? We have nothing to talk about, and I ain't at all interested in being friends! She isn't worth the time since we have nothing in common, nothing at all, not even common values! I'm sure of that! Plus, she mistook me for a 'John' or a 'Paul', had to tell her 'Plug'! So we exchanged nicities, she excussed herself to go to the restroom, and I sat down and continued talking to Dale! On the way out, she stopped at my table, I looked up, and she informed me that "I would sit down to chat, but I have a funeral to go to!" I couldn't help looking at Dale with a smile of ammusement on my face, then looking back at her smiling and saying, "Well, have a good time!" I could not have come up with such a line if I had wanted to, "I would sit down to chat, but I have to attend the Holocaust!" The lines I have heard from women in my lifetime! Fuck Me, Man!!! Fuck Me!!!

How much Heavy Water can you drink?