Xmas, there and back again

The magpies are dropping down into the yard this morning. They are the first to notice we are back from Oregon, we as in peanuts scattered freely on the ground and fresh water in the tubs. One is taking a drink right now. And now they have all ascended to the rooftop for a noisy debate. And now they are gone.

Oregon, eye of the beholder

Inside my mind

For such a non-traditional bunch, we had a surprisingly old-fashioned type xmas this year, with elders who were like logs in a roaring fire around which children, grandchildren and many loud and lively Norwegian and Croatian in-law/relatives and friends visiting from Europe gathered for warmth, fantastic feasts and merry times. And there were the good old friends, seen only briefly, but who leave a warm and lasting glow. And The New Puppy, born on the auspicious day of winter solstice, upon whom I am eager to rain goodies and puppets. But, perhaps sweetest of all, there was the son who, though never leaving Oregon, was the traveler from the greatest distance. After ten days of back to back here there and back again and again and again seeing everyone doing everything and topping the days off with nights around the game table we were full ready to go and felt lucky to get safely over the passes back through snow wind and slippery roads.

Game night

Road home

Red flares lying along the road behind Mt. Lassen warned us of what was almost certainly a fatal one car accident ahead, a black jeep, roof frame showing like the bones of a ruined building, body smashed, engine crumpled and crushed into the driver's empty seat, filling with snow. The ambulance was already gone, just cops and a road crew standing along the shoulder discussing how to remove what remained. As we drove by I looked to the placid snow-covered trees that the driver saw last and marveled at how detached, deceptively ordinary, and discrete they seemed, sentinels standing back just enough to make way for the road, as though promising safe passage through their midst.

Nevada, wide open

Good to be back in Nevada. We grabbed some food on the way home and today are laying low and staying warm. My text message quota is maxed out, I haven't caught up on the news, called anyone or even done my solstice/new year I Ching reading for the year ahead.

Happy New Year


Winter Solstice

Hoary for Winter Solstice

Near the South Galactic Pole
beyond the universe of naked eye
between Cetus and Sculptor
Galaxy NGC 253
To its west
near the galactic equator and ecliptic intersection
the diffuse nebulae M20 and M8
stellar sphinx
guarding the winter solstice point of our sun
On my earth wild roses
perfume this afternoon’s rain.
On my earth
in the 21st century after Christ
after countless way-showers and seed-sowers
the only revolution left
is love.



Lull before the storm

Pretty quiet night here tonight, a relief after the frantic last few days, mailing presents and cards. I ended up with a cold. And my office and the front room are in shambles. Except for in the shadows on the north side of things, last week's snow is gone but a big storm is due to hit the same day we leave for Oregon. Lovely. We have to cross Siskiyou Pass, according to truckers the worst on all of I-5. But it's the only way home. Got to sleep now. Must try to stay ahead of this cold. Mark your calendar. The winter solstice is this Saturday at 1:08 am EST (06:08 UT).


Cannibal goes vegetarian

You can file this one under "What Ever Happened To Ol' What's His Name?". Plus, there are a few interesting things to glean about life from this curious story, starting with the forbidden fact that humans taste like pigs. Or so says Armin Meiwes, the world's current most infamous cannibal. Or x-cannibal as he recently went vegetarian, but more about that later. I'd heard that before, about humans and pigs. It does add a little punch to the old line, "cooks my bacon" or however the saying goes. Being a vegetarian, I generally avoid meat references. For instance, I don't say, "I've got a beef with you", or a "bone to pick with you", but if I do and catch myself in time, I'll substitute the work "tofu" for "beef". Ends up odd in translation but what the hell? I"m not trying to impress anyone. And I never did like "bone to pick". I'm not sure I used that one, even as a meat eater.

I also avoid equating people with animals, unless it's complimentary to the animal, which it generally is not. But we humans draw a lot of power from animal references which, when you stop to think about it, pepper the language. Once, when M. Lee was negotiating the jeep along a desert "road" at about 5 miles an hour for hours, we made a list of some of the more common ones. Of course, if you are one of the ultra hip who read my old zine, Reddog Review, you've already seen it but this is the new, improved version.

Common animal/human references:

hen / hen pecked
chick / foxy
(hot babe, but "chick" also indicates
inferior standing as in chick to rooster
whereas "foxy" is without the baggage )
(good except if you're the bait)
hawk-eyed / hawk-eye / ol' hawk-eye / eagle-eye
bear / bull
(aside from being financial icons, can go either way)
(cats are cool)
(not cool)
(not complimentary)
strong as a gorilla
(compliment if you're the one doing the eating,
not so if you're the one being eaten)
pup / cub
(diminutive but generally indicates fondness)
(see "chick")
wolf / fox
(see "shark")
old fox
(complimentary when "busy as",
not so as a sexual reference. )
(complimentary when "gentle as",
definitely creepy reference to human sacrifice
and all other forms of religious servitude)
wise owl / doe-like /doe-eyed / eagle eye
deer in the headlights
old frog
shrew / old shrew
bat / old bat
goat / old goat
cold fish
goose / silly goose
queer bird / queer duck
spineless jellyfish
slippery as an eel
ferret out
sang like a canary
bats in the belfry
clam up
pig out
squirrel away
fish brain
horse’s ass
crow / old crow
My little chickadee

The list goes one. Add your own.

I suppose if you drink you may have a fondness for Old Crow, the feather of the old crow and all that, but I digress. My point is, we humans are in the habit of comparing ourselves favorably to everyone else, top o' the heap, pinnacle of evolution, God's kids enjoying "The Father's" permission to treat and eat everyone else any ol' way we want.

But back to Mr. Meiwes, the fellow who killed, filleted, froze and ate a chat room acquaintance, 42-year-old Bernd-Juergen Brandes who, it seems, responded to Meiwes' on-line post "Man seeking man willing to be killed and eaten", which apparently Mr. Brandes was. Meiwes, now in jail for life, has become a vegetarian because he objects to the grizzly factory farm slaughter house practices with are a true hell on earth. Since acquainting himself with the realities of animal's plight, Mr. Meiwes now finds "the whole idea of factory farming as distasteful" as his own crime was. He ought to know.

As a footnote, I find it interesting how much more humane German prisons are than American ones. Three months ago Meiwes was voted to head up the Green Party section in the maximum security jail in Kassel where he is serving his sentence. The group is made up of murderers, paedophiles and drug dealers and now has a cannibal as its leader. Meeting every Tuesday, they discusses tax, legal and environmental policies. Fancy anything like that happening in an American prison. The only "salvation" our poor mopes have is to join a gang and then enhance that status by becoming a member of the soul-snatching, blood-thirsty Army of Khrist. Anyway, Good for ol' Meiwes. It's never to late to have a change of heart.


Al Gore's Nobel acceptance speech

This by way of Crooks and Liars: "Al Gore was in Oslo Norway, this morning with the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change to pick up their Nobel Peace Prize. If you have a minute, his acceptance speech is really incredible. Video here.

Excerpts from Gore's speech:

"There is an African proverb that says, “If you want to go quickly, go alone. If you want to go far, go together.” We need to go far, quickly."

"But unlike most other forms of pollution, CO2 is invisible, tasteless, and odorless -- which has helped keep the truth about what it is doing to our climate out of sight and out of mind. Moreover, the catastrophe now threatening us is unprecedented – and we often confuse the unprecedented with the improbable..”"


Just askin'


Can a spoiled frat boy, trust fund baby whose father bought him a degree at a prestigious university, dry drunk alcoholic/addict, draft dodging corporate shill for the self-entitled untouchables in his uber rich "Base" (his Masters), idiot liar, chiseling megalomaniac religious freak with the reverse Midas touch, Peter Pan loser, fascist puppet traitor successfully spearhead the destruction of the United States Constitution and American Bill of Rights while intelligent, well-informed, committed patriots stand by watching everything this country stands for get chopped up, melted down, twisted and retooled into a fascist machine run by and for the Corporate/Military Elite for the sole purpose of waging endless, preemptive war on the peoples of the world on the backs of the American people which drains, not only our economy but shackles us, and our children for generations to come, to endless war with its unbearable loss of life, crushing debt and searing shame before the world for our war crimes as, all the while they, insulated from the consequences, remain behind the scenes in their boardrooms and war rooms, enclaves, compounds, gated communities and posh international resorts protected by private, evangelical armies paid for by We the People, where they gorge themselves on the spoils of war and an environment laid at their feet by their proxy, the President of the United States, whose Congress, courts and spies collude to intimidate, suppress, control and silence We, the People, so that We give up our power and cower and surrender and hope to be passed over during the sweeps by relinquishing our Democracy, abandoning our freedoms and betraying, not only our own way of life, but life in general and our planet upon which we all depend, our conscience, our morals, and our God, if we have one and however we understand that, so that they can make of themselves Over Lords in their psychotic vision of a New World Order?

Just askin'.


My robot

I, well ... we, have a robot. My, our, first. No, it's not a humanoid. Or a robotic dog. But I'm already attached and see it as more that a "mere machine". Can't help it. It's just what I do. Anyway, it's a Roomba. We tried it yesterday and we both ended up standing there, watching it scoot around the room. Very cool little bot. It did a great job. I want to paint it so that it looks like a ladybug or a frog. Probably a ladybug. It's sweet like a ladybug. I dunno but it's definitely got personality.


Christmas graveyard

Reno in December

Plonk and his girlfriend are cozied up by the pool this morning, she lounging in the tub and he nested in the grass next to her, cleaning his gray feathers and airing his under wings, making him look like a pigeon angel. Sorry, Internet. No Bird Park videos until the writer's strike is settled.

Casinos from Dreamer's Cafe

However, it being The Season, I will post this video I did yesterday. Christmas graveyard. If these trees could talk, what stories would they tell? Listen closely and you can catch moments of a woman and some old man crooning along with Bing. Reno Goodwill. Cheery as hell. Be prepared. It is the digital equivalent of a stale but very rummy rum soaked bit of fruit cake, the kind you might find at the bottom of an ornament box long after the fact.

Christmas graveyard


Sorry, Internet. T. Strum throws down the pen

Naturally, we here at the Invisible Theatre support the writer's strike. Clearly, They are right and The Man is wrong. Writers deserve fair pay for their work. It's that simple. Otherwise I don't much care about what happens in TV land. Don't even have a set in the house. I watch Colbert and Stewart online. But yesterday when writers from the Colbert Report requested responses to their video Sorry, Internet, we were only to happy to oblige. The troope got together and decided that our decidedly not cuddly or adorable producer T. Strum, formerly known as The Shipping Squirrel, should do the honors so, after homage to the Muse, he threw down the pen. No more Bird Park videos until this thing is settled! Sorry, Internet.


Nora: The Sequel

Remember Nora the musical cat genius? Well finally she returns in this new video duet. I love this cat.

Nora: the sequel.



Rove's last stand

The dictionary has no entries for the search string: Karl Rove's ivory tower of lies is built on quicksand. He faces a huge reckoning. It is not a question of if, but when. However, it assured me that the words Karl, Roves, ivory, tower, of, lies, is, built, on, quicksand, He, faces, a, huge, reckoning It, is, not, a, question, of, if, but, when are spelled correctly.

Poor Turd Blossom. He is supposed to be very smart but, even though the words are spelled right, he cannot comprehend them. What will it take?

Mr. W.

Here's an interesting little film that just kind of sneaks up on you.

Mr. W.