Sunday, August 02, 2015

Nomex Daze

I just got off a 12.5 hr shift doing Fire overtime.  And for some reason I thought, Yeah! This would be a great time to make a cheesecake.  And now I'm waiting in a special sort of fatigued daze.

One of my employees quit early which has opened up a huge amount of overtime for my normal work.  So now I'm working 6 10hr days a week minimum for the next month or so.  Not much time for anything else in life.

But when I can force a bit of time for something other than work, among the choices of working on my cabin, pursuing women, and making and eating food, I am, of course going with the latter.

It's going to be an exhausting month for sure.  But I'll eat well.

Saturday, July 18, 2015


Still nothing really new to speak of.  =/

Work's OK.

Social life is meh, but OK.

Good health, getting stronger....  bored to shit.

Calm before the storm?


Have you ever thought
about your next lover?
the one you haven’t met
She’s with someone else
right now
His filthy hands on her body
His stubble chafing her neck
His flaws in her heart
And you know you’ll meet her
And she knows she’ll meet you
but this is what is happening
It makes her happy
…but she feels the emptiness
or will
or… it helps to think
I’ve spent a lifetime
learning to let go of the past
but how do I let go
of the now?
I thought being present was key
to happiness
to meaning
to depth
to fullness
and it is
and it is
and it is key as well
to heartbreak
of another kind
the kind that says
and I
aren’t ready for each other
But I don’t want anybody
’s filthy hands
on my body
And I don’t want anybody
’s neck to chafe
And I don’t want anybody
to hold my flaws in her heart
I just want my beard to grow
red and fiery
my white skin ripe for woad
should the need arise
This is my land
I’ve taken it for myself
My Danelaw
And I will not be in thrall
to the English
or any demon they abandoned here
and I would see them all dead
so that you might have a home in me
When the last throat is cut and bled
on your battlefield
my shieldmaiden

Sunday, July 05, 2015

Somewhere Over The Speed Bumps

Oh! I have been to the land of Oz
I have been there twice
And I have seen the beaches
and the liars

And I have been to Wizard Island
I have been there twice
an empty margarita glass
salted with dead pines
and crimson cinders

I have conjured many things
I have birthed many dreams
and I have lived a life of majesty
resplendent with wonder
through desert sands
and across the sparkling ice

And I have met the Wicked Witch
she is from Queens
not the West
don't be confused
neither Rodgers nor Hammerstein wrote her song
and I do not think she owns a monkey
but she is one

and so are we all

There is no Wizard on Wizard Island
and sooner or later
we all wake up in the Midwest
Tin men behind our screens
searching for our hearts
in a land
where no one practices magic
where no one believes in magic
and the ends thereof
are the ways of death

but this is not despair
my friend
it is acknowledgement
and an invocation
an obituary to disbelief
if you will
you will

and that is how it starts
riding into the West
where even the Wicked Witch
can practice magic

Mirror, Mirror
in you all
who's the dumbest monkey of them all?
It is you my Lord
It is you my Queen
You're the dumbest bitch you've never seen!

And from the mists
I think you'll glean
I don't know
you tell me, I've never seen

But I'm writing this oh-bitch-you-ary
and oh yes!
it is very...

Saturday, July 04, 2015

A Heavy Solstice

On the Solstice I did something I haven't done for 18 years.  I went to the gym and lifted weights.  Ouch.

And to be fair, 18 years ago that was only because I was required to for a high school weight lifting class.

I was getting to a point with calisthenics and the dumbbells in my room beyond which I wasn't progressing  so, yup, crossed the line.

I still hate the idea, and try to go at absurd times of the day when no one else will be there, but I just really can't deadlift or do heavy squats in my room.

I guess there are certain ages that have a psychological component to them, ages where you say, "damn, that just sounds a lot older than the age before it."  And to me 34 (which I will be in a few days) sounds a hell of a lot older than 33.  I'm not sure why exactly it has that depressing fatigue to the number, but I'm using it as a point for action.  A decade from now my body is going to have a hell of a lot more difficulty adding muscle and recovering from injury so I suppose I had best get ahead of the curve now and add some meat for the ravages of aging to rob and to help prevent injury while I still have a bit of youthful advantage.  This work is damned hard, and I can't afford not to do it for the foreseeable future given there is really nothing else I could really see myself enjoying as much as building and destroying things in mountain forests.

Anyway...  It's been a pretty quiet summer so far.  The social situation here is muted at best.  That's not all bad, it just leaves a bit of a vacuum.  So I guess I'll just fill it with strained muscle tissue and turned pages.  (Starting another Pynchon novel, hehe)

Saturday, June 20, 2015

The Magus - Never Stop

Last night I was sitting around writing shitty poetry and contemplating the idea that solitude is only a useful condition in contrast to it's opposite.  Simply being alone in and of itself, I reckoned, does not provide any benefits.  And further, solitude is not just being away from other people.  The critical element is getting away from presence with other people.

I think this may explain another dimension to why some people have trouble with solitude; it's not just that they fear being left alone with their own demons, but rather that they were not experiencing connection beforehand.  They were not present with other people, but merely taking weak comfort (or annoyance) in the illusion of connection provided by the proximity to others, and when the door of solitude slams hard shut there is no powerful vacuum, no juxtaposition, just a stagnant emptiness.

But quite the opposite happens when moving from an intense presence with others into solitude.  When that door slams shut, the vacuum created is powerful indeed and creates the space and force differential to suck thoughts and ideas into the void.  And with all the freshly liberated power for processing these things in your mind, your mind that has been wound up by the demands of presence, is violently freed to do its own bidding.  In that space of solitude freshly juxtaposed to presence with others-- connection with others, great acts of mind occur.

Anyway, mid verse I received a knock on the door, a summons to the fire ring.  My maul was needed.  And after splitting the firewood for the evening, I ended up hanging out and drinking a fair bit too much, and ruining today in tedious hangover.  Not my normal M.O., but what the hell else was I supposed to do?

This evening in achy defeat on the prior day's meditation, I drew a card from the Tarot.  And by defeat I mean failing to find an answer to the question: "How does this all relate to the problem of being kinda lonely on three day weekends?"

The Magus (Magician)

"He cannot be understood because he is the Unconscious Will." - The Book of Thoth

And I have been doing some research on this one for the past several hours.

"but it was seen from very early times that the use of speech, or writing, meant the introduction of ambiguity at the best and falsehood at the worst; they therefore represented Thoth as followed by an ape, the cynocephalus, whose business it was to distort the word of the god; to mock, to simulate and to deceive.  In philosophical language one may say: Manifestation implies illusion." -The Book of Thoth
Sounds a hell of a lot like what I wrote two months ago on April 21.  Interesting... but, what of it?

"And woe also be unto Him that refuseth the curse of the grade of a Magus, and the burden of the Attainment thereof.And in the word CHAOS let the Book be sealed; yea, let the Book be sealed." 
-Liber I: Liber B Vel Magi Sub Figurâ 1

Then in a bit of verse tucked in the back of The Book of Thoth...

"be thou as Artemis to Pan"
And this makes a hell of a lot of sense to me.  Only a master can spin the wheel to land where he choses, and only through crossing a boundary of fear and suffering the chaotic consequences of repeated failure and reaping their unexpected rewards can he sharpen his aim to become that master, that Magus.  Fearlessness took Artemis to Pan who gave her the dogs that made her the greatest of all hunters.

Never stop.

And on that note, I am indeed finding that as time has passed, the vacuum has leaked out of this room of solitude.  Which means I need to get off my ass and create the power of connection again.  Though on this spin of the wheel I'll for damned sure have to dig deeper into the nature of my intentions first and throughout, --to (hopefully) avoid (more of) the pitfalls inherent with the biology of being a damned dirty ape-- to avoid being the cynocephalus.  Invoke with concentration and ardor.

Now if I just had some place to start.

Thursday, June 11, 2015

Another Day Another Dollar

click to see full size