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| Woman in Water image has nothing to do with anything |
That would be
the word of the day: flat. Flat world,
flat life, flat hope, just your basic planer existence revolving around a
serious skirmish with yet another iteration of the public school proto
pneumonia grunge-bug. It’s been over two
weeks of intestinal infighting and bronchial raid and run to dislodge the
invaders. They’re losing ground, I’m
winning, no mercenary antibodies in the fight, but damn. It do eat up time and after a while you just
feel... flat. That thousand yard stare
starts taking over. Still though there
are things to be seen at the end of that thousand yards, usually in the reflections
populating a windowpane in one of those intoxinated fever dreams. You know, the things you see in the
reflection that just flat aren’t there when you turn and look into the room,
but they’re still there in the reflection when you look back. Seen some sights in that window last couple
of days, yup, yessir I have. Not totally
sure what to make of some of them.
For a tamer example: I walked out a back door I did, didn’t think
much of it, something to do with the dog I think, only to discover a twenty,
thirty head orgy rolling around in my backyard.
Didn’t think much of that either believe it or not, pretty normal
looking people indulging in a pretty normal looking fuck fest. One of the revelers, a pleasingly plump English
looking lass who was riding reverse cowgirl (she reminded me of Lulu in “To Sir
with Love” ) looked up at me and in a tone of voice somewhere
between petulant and bored said “please tell me you’re not gonna go all grandma
judgmental about this” to which I replied “This, nah, no problem with this but
it would have been nice to have warned the roommates ya’ll will be using the
garden hose a lot... been nice to know why there’s no water pressure in the bathroom.” Right.
Interesting thing was the skyline beyond the back fence... I recognized
that horizon instantly, that was the scene as seen looking out the back door
from the rent house next door to the hell house... makes me wonder which back
door I walked out of. The back wall of
the hell house is still a total blank, no effort of will awake or in sentient
slumber has ever shown me that back door even though I know it has to be in my
memory somewhere. Oh well. The dreams of intoxination can be as strange
as anything induced by any deliberate indulgence, and often of more value once
you can connect a line from the dream to the circumstance that gave it form.
Then of course
there was the concurrent case of porous insulation, a condition rumored among
the garage horror stories but never seen before in the real world. I’m now on record in support of the legend,
do believe I’ve now bumped into a case of just that on Brutus. Little to tell, just a slight discoloration
and a blistery looking deformation as if some tiny drop of solvent had attacked
the insulation on the wires, allowing them to cross connect anytime relative
humidity made for a nice wet kiss.
Right. The answer? A whole lot of
electrical tape wrapped most carefully. Ok,
readings back to normal on that leg of the harness, just have to wait for a
good rainstorm to see if it worked well enough.
Old fart is beyond running
great, he’s getting into the awesome ranges, but… still cantankerous as his
owner. I’m tired of chasing wiring problems.
And of course it
can’t really be called a proper hack bs filler post without something from the
wonderfully dysfunctional world of world news. Based on a picture I saw (purportedly taken from ISIS’ recruiting effort) I’m
starting to wonder how many of the ISIS fighters are in actual fact
biologically homosexual living in titanium coffins instead of closets and dedicated
to dying for the cause because the bonds of battle are as close as their
culture will allow them to get? I mean
really, about the only thing that will weld two lives tighter than sharing a
lover’s bed is sharing a goddamn foxhole and the boys in that picture sure
looked queer to me. If true what a
bitter joke that would turn out to be, a viscously bitter joke in so many
different directions.
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| Carrying Chaos |
Anyway, the
word of the day is flat. Which, if this
thing is unwinding in alphabetical order, might mean you’ll want to stay up
wind for a bit because there’s really no telling what the word of tomorrow
might be ;-)
