Fast with Comparison and Contrast

for all of you Americans out there that can at least relate to the fast part in this sped up alternative to existence that we call now. Comparison and in Contrast the literary art of which was originally explained to me at a young age by a fellow named Art who taught me something about the human gene pool we call Goo-Fi and their attention span. Just yesterday I was trying to discover the meaning of being here in a world where the term lock down gives parents of this community and nation yet another one less thing to worry or think about leaving itself as matter of factually talked about as, "So what's in it for me and what can you do for me?, where did it happen?, where do you live?, what kind of car do you have only to get rid of? have you ever seen crappers clogged in the back country?", you know the socially excepted understanding that has become our way of the good life more appropriately known to me as the productivity based society and useless questions asked in public that is/has become the USA. This morning was another time to examine the realness behind keeping up. Stay Alive down, a few jobs handled and then to the Coffee House that fully(more in cash annually than Team Dicky and Wicki get combined) sponsors my need, regiment, habit and warmth. New York Times Tuesday September 9, 2008. That NYT along with a ceramic mug in the chair that Dr. Quinn Medicine woman , I mean Jane Seymour with nice pleasant voice who when spoke came across as a soft Briton lady, like Mary Poppins but too much make up sat in last week will get my mind off of the real and back onto it for sure, we need some contrast in this world, do we not?

Page A10 provides me with the opposite understanding of my problems with my kid being in Code Orange Lock Down, right there tucked in between a story above about the death toll in Cuba thus far from Hurricane Ike and below something about Thailand's Television and control of people was a story about a US attack on a Taliban Compound within the boundary of Pakistan that killed 23 including 8 children. This story written by Jane Perlez and Pir Zubair Shah sheds much light once again that American workers' Federal Taxes are sparing no awareness of consequences in bringing democracy around the globe. Children. I want to know more but at the same time I prolly cannot handle the complete top secret and higher level of truth that we are all Okay with from the view of the comfort we have been fighting for. Survival instincts run amok and transfer to instincts of surviving not based on existence but comfort and excess which must be what we are distracted by because if we weren't the talk in the elevators would not be about The Patriot Brady's poor 4million dollar leg injury, it would be more somber and real addressing the death of innocent kids, their only crime being born time zones away, not here where we have Toby Keith and the land that we love to put sprawl on so that we can have yet more to distract us from where our dollars are going and who is doing what with them.

Ton of Questions:

Did any of the parents of the 8 children that were killed survive the speed of light explosion from the sky that was built and assembled perhaps in Indiana or some other place in America that they cannot even imagine because they have only seen this country in a tele port, not with their own eyes? Pakistan is very far away, 24 hours by flight if you get some good connections, air time I mean in the aluminum tube. What are their thoughts towards what is at the Quanta of the premature deaths of their own Biological Rerepresentation? I mean if I were here in the Jar and Pakistan was a shit ton fatter than it is right now and one of their missiles were by a series of commands fired from Islamabad exploding into my child after being launched from technology provided by data collected from an un-manned drone flown by some doosh at the other end of the joy stick killing my kid separated from me and I survived I think I would want to know that I did everything to disrupt not only that doosh's life and the life of the command center but everyone else in Pakistan who sat back getting more while their leaders told them to be scared of the Americans, they are dangerous. Are more enemies being created right now instead of building bridges? Have you ever stepped in Pakistan? They are human you know.

I would want to tell them that I am sorry that I have no control, that I cannot change it unless I leave for Scandahoovia or any other non NATO country where I could honestly say I were free and that my leaders were not down with blowing up your kids. Someone keeps telling me with almost this ignorant glee, "Well, if that is your attitude how do you expect it to change?" Pretty funny, I suppose and lack of wit your forte as well so go be a do gooder, go to church they know what's up, think nothing of your individual identity which you are not aware of it's power there for you can never be free or the home of the brave. For Braveness is in the abstract of cool even the antithesis of it, understand chase the 4million and in the end you will never see the collective conscious level that can actually provide the change that the Democratic ticket promises but will never deliver.

I would try to explain why I am sorry as well, not only for helping pay for the technology and the TV guided missile that killed their child but the bigger connection. The connection of my personal self stewing in a brew of life is good. Hell, living in the Jar I feel the entropy of the source of L.I.G. on the daily and for my eyes to witness the absolute calm of a nation faced with tragedy. How are you? Good? Good! Great. I am so sorry and I hope that your connection to your spirituality and God whomever it maybe whether he or she died on the cross or dipped below the horizon 10,000 years ago is saving your sanity. For I know you could deal so much better with your kid in CODE Orange lock Down here in the Jar than I could being in the mountains where you are dealing with my dead kid, an end result of weapons of mass destruction sent by the land of the free.

Acronym L.I.G.

I took this picture in Sweden approaching the Arctic Circle along side the non-jammed two lane road the summer before last. Sunday morning I made some fixes to the way I actually saw it and present the final here. click big for closer inspection Life is Good as long as the Cartoon on your T-shirt is a bubbly doodle of your 4th grade daughter in Code/Level Orange lock down with the rest of her fellow elementary and high school student body early Friday morning because of an armed robbery that was going down in the real just under 100 yards away at an Ace bank not bank. Yea, Yea I now we try not to think about the extraordinary circumstances of a world unwinding we call now here in the awesome USA but there was an emotional let down realization that I am having trouble dealing with. I guess I just do not remember ever being in lock down code orange with the lights out, teachers receiving audible encrypted messages over the loud speakers, dogs on the campus and the CMPD Snoopy 1 helicopter with optics flying just above the trees out the window. Then again I did not grow up in such a fantastic place to be like the million person ville we call the Queen City either. So far I guess we have been fortunate with crime not eking it's way into her school property, private or not it's all in the same territory and surrounded by the next plastic faux brick link in the network of a downward spiraling society. Oh yea, this is a we pay for school, less than but not by much the past but way more than free of the taxes that we pay 4 times over for. The understanding that my biorerepresentation was forced to deal with it a month in to her 4th grade year really bothers me on a few levels. I mean she and the rest of her class had just started a test that had been issued in the form of a blank flat world map at 8 and a half by 11 on which they had to fill in the continents, the oceans, the compass directions and such with correct spelling. Then the lights went out, Codes over the in school PA system, should the blinds be drawn? No, no need in code orange perhaps in red they will be depending on what they are guarding against. Okay kids please remain calm and just stay quiet for a few minutes we should be getting some more information soon at which time we can be told what to do next. While these kids were simply trying to open their heads to the size of the rest of the world someone a hundred yards away in a strip mall was getting the real education when she or he came to work and was met by a man with a gun and a plan for some free In God We Trust Units. Did the guy with the gun know how to identify the 7 continents with correct spelling, had he ever been off this one and been to another that has people just like here with less code orange anything? Questions seeking answers not, for the openly verbal curiosity is merely the literary rationalization that life is good and good it is, however not particularly at this place and time. Purge you know.

Sorry for leaving it here, sometimes it helps.

Square Hare Lives!

That's right folks, the square hair is real. I found it on the omnipotent and chunneling rationalization for computer peoples big money income Internet brought to you by the latest global empire which surely means it's true or that my decision should be swayed one way or the other, perhaps in the direction of the artist's mind creation.....

Yodel and Echo Foster

Look at these puppies, Yodel white face and Echo all in black. This was a slightly difficult set of foster pups to take care of because the 8 days they were with us they fought some sort of stomach bug. Even with the medicine and tons of patience these little pups had a rough time of it. Long nights of whining, rest only coming in 2 hour increments and much hands on love having to be given. They have since recovered and obviously been adopted to permanent homes being as easy on the eyes as they are. The Charlotte Humane Society still needs your help if you are one of the responsible adults in the area reading this blog give them a call and volunteer. Don't think long term commitment, think part time foster parent to give the little ones or slightly bigger ones a safe place in transition from street to kennel on sight where the dogs will quickly be placed with a caring family. Go be a foster for some dogs or cats in need.

Attachment to Defection and/or Political Asylum

cannot be connected to anyone else no matter how easy or the only choice it may seem. It is only up to you the individual and cannot be aided by the Internet or whatever chunnel you feel like the entity is sending you down. Remove all barriers, no one else can be involved with the logistics behind your brave plan if it is to remain true. Simply put but however honest as always, take the green dummy knot of In God We Trust Units down to the The Jar International Airport today and see the attendant at the SAS(Scandahoovian Airline Service) counter, her name is Utica from Upsala. Tell her about the historical flight you want to take on the historical date and she will take your money in trade for that freedom, the last transaction you will make in this fine free country in which we dwell. I have pondered heavily since last night and realized as my internal awareness has been telling you and myself since the beginning of seeing what is not in NATO that you are the only one that can do this. Nothing that comes from Grandma, Ron, spawn of spies, the thing that hockey players hit with a stick, myself or anyone in active pursuit of their 4 million can help you now or ever even though they and I could each do a couple of double clicks and blip your way over. This type of freedom cannot work that way, the cosmic wave is ebbing. Drop all barriers which obviously have yet to be dropped and get on with it. Action/reaction the quanta of science......solving logistical problems is easy depending from which angle they are perceived from.

Road Kill Essay/Anatomy of a Hare

Click this one big to full screen and then examine thoroughly using the zone technique by looking at each postage stamp sized block of the image all the way across, up and down. There is a lot of info happening in the picture.....

This rabbit or what is left of it was run down by some jack ass car driver who could not avoid the small ground animal on the side of a neighborhood road in Dooleyville. Just prior to being torn open the little guy probably looked some like this which appears slightly more comfortable than his present state. The death of anything on the road as a result of the auto viper, more specifically the humans that operate them is a real tragedy considering that the life energy of the one dead would have continued living without the murderous combo of human and car. What's left, the carcass, the vessel which carried the living spirit up until that point becomes an extraordinary photo subject to me because of my proximity to the place it went down, the 2 wheeled connection. I usually roll by death by tire and asphalt, my fault, their fault on the daily and I never look away. I am always scanning to see if the subject is dynamic enough, if the light is right, is there a backdrop and all things that I need to see to make a decent picture that will make people's brains itch. One of these days I am going to put together a picture book, coffee table size of the collective animal death I have witnessed on the roads that I ride. It says more than what you see when you look past the subject to the struggle for life in a paved nation.

Noah went in the Rear View

Ms. Arcen off the front of Noah for good at the 3.25mile mark on the 4 mile out, 4 mile back in Mcmullen Creek Green Way yesterday. He had gears, she only the SS Swamp Bike and the truth. It was amazing to watch that earlier on she passed the red shirted kid and he wanted some, trying desperately to stick to her wheel, shifting, standing, none of it was working. She was just as obsessed in keeping ahead of him at that point until by the turn around out he was not even in sight. I was calling the ride as if I were Phil Liggett himself, "Poor little Noah with gears and all is no match for the girl with the Single Speed Swamp Bike, a splendid show of dignity by the little girl from Dooleyville indeed" So she rode the 8 miles with only one incident when a toddler stepped right in front of her and she took the gutter to the ground instead of running him over. She never cried, looking up and asking if her wound was blog worthy. a quick look over the shoulder during the pass

poor little Noah does even know how far off the front she is....

result of a toddler pedestrian not paying attention, welcome to my world......

True Story:

Last night at around just before sunset I saw movement in my front yard. I looked out the window and saw a dark sedan all 4 wheels up in my front yard as if it rolled off the road parallel to the house and just stopped. There was a female driver and 4 kids in the back seat ranging from what I would later find out as 2 to 9 years old. I walked out and asked, "Is everything okay?" The driver stepped out of the car and in a strange matter of fact tone reported that she ran out of gas and was not sure what to do because she had no money for any gas. I had just bought some gas earlier in the day and could not believe how little I received for what I paid so I told her that I had some gas for her. Back to the barn, got the 2.5 gal can and back around to dump the contents in her car. Strange feelings came over me, I realized that she would not get far on what I was giving her but that is all I had. Her kids Loved Mary who was overseeing these quietly bizarre events in the front yard. She thanked me and said that if she could she would leave some In God We Trust Units in my box. That is not the point. The point is that people are running out of gas and in this case one picked my yard to do it in....amazing the now and what is about to be in front of us.