August 21st, 2010

Oh, Gawd.
Blackwater USA turned Blackwater Worldwide (and now Xe Services) gets fishier and still more fishy scented. This will inevitably end in tears. If it ends. Well- tears without end…


August 12th, 2010

It’s said that Hunter S. Thompson banged out F. Scott Fitzgerald’s Great Gatsby on his typewriter over and over again just to get a feeling for his writing, to get a flow to the music of his prose. Many writers worth a damn write every day, just for the pure joy of the exercise and to feel the colors of the mind finding their way onto the page.
I think it has something to do with passion. The desire to do something over all things because that action or activity shouts in one’s ear until it gets done, will of the will itself; joy of being that gets something done.
What happens when that fire goes untended, when another act muscles its way into a flow? Work for money and survival, even in a cushy, overfed land like America, has a way of insinuating itself into the warp and weft of consciousness. And by damn, it’s a lot like yanking a length of barbed wire from the trunk of a tree grown to close to the fence; sometimes it’s not worth the effort of wrestling the wire, it’s just fine to cut both ends.
Thompson was a great writer for quite a while, a man who slung himself into the machine with both barrels ablaze. That practice paid off, even if it was for a purpose other than what he intended. While he clacked away at that keyboard with the words of ‘Gatsby’ channeling through him; in his soul,Thompson found a purpose, a passion, a joy and finally, a vocation: to write the underbelly of society. To cast light on the edge and bring its bright, unseemly vision back from to the dead.

Renewal… but first, much aggravation.

June 24th, 2010


Compy died. Just up and corrupted its own boot sector, as far as I can tell, a couple of days ago. I spent much of yesterday trying to reset the bootysector on the phone with the Philippines and India. HP support was good this time; I liked them much more than Dell during the last hard drive crisis/freak-session.
Anyhow, now onward to renewed productivity and catchup; I’ll be back with some more fibrillated human data soon enough!

the sky, once more

June 16th, 2010


Two people stopped by the little house on the high desert today.
They’re both in their mid fifties, their hair is thinning, gray or graying, and they are both amazing beings concerned about the world, the people thereon and their families.
Both are physically fit and active beyond the ‘norm’ for their years, working hard and playing hard.
Really, the biggest difference between the two is that one is ‘disabled’, having lived with the effects of cerebral palsy for his entire life and the other doesn’t have that particular problem. They both do amazing things with their lives and are admired for who they are by many.
I love them both and am grateful for their brotherhood.

the sky

June 15th, 2010


I wonder about the power of intention, or at least my ability to harness the power of the hopeful mind. We all exist inside a strict set of perceptions governed by desires and what we see as possible.
Wide variation is difficult and the natural world swirls on its way without regard to our fears, simply giving way to even the most egregious interference by our species.
I have hope, still.

The Tea Party

June 14th, 2010


They see roads as a birthright,
Professing His and His father’s name
while angry with Christ for setting a way of charity and deference.
They would with a Cesarean wave grant rights as benefit to their world view
or negate any that on their party cast shadow or any scent unseemly.
With ideas Jacobin and still others staunchly against that grain,
when they rant, I’m not sure where flowers begin and pavement ends with a vertical drop.

Old Windows

June 13th, 2010

Right next to this desk there is a window.  When I work during the day, I get out the old ThinkPad (Lenovo, just a few months after the IBM sellout), open the curtain about a foot and a half, and get down to the tasks at hand.There’s the yard’s north gate, the old concrete pathway, a couple of Dogwood bushes, the street and my neighbor’s Poplar right within view.  
It’s been raining off and on for a few days now, and the grass is high with dark, rain-laden clouds to the east over the mountains.We live here in Spring City year-round at this point in our lives.  Our kids are pretty young, and without family or many like minds nearby, life can feel shabby and desperate at times.We are very happy together as a nuclear family, so don’t get me wrong; but with three teens in the house and more climbing their way up the old ladder, plus a couple of formerly artsy and idealist parents pining away in a hamster wheel of providing, teaching, cooking, and maintenance, there are personalities seeking a more excellent way ’round this wee house on the high desert.
Sometimes parting a curtain will give an old vista fresh flavor by virtue of a new frame.  Gratitude for the window, light and fresh air is a part of the dance, too, and maybe someday, all of this exercise for the sake of keeping a lid on the frustration will enable bursting, new growth and a realization of why hope was worthwhile.

Getting to Know WordPress…

June 13th, 2010


By damn, this is the first post to this tempo-blog.I know it’s fair lame and so is my writing these days, but I have to get something roasting under the old lid; once I figure out how to configure WordPress manually and get the new domain up, this will serve.Bless your souls, every one of you!