Friday, November 30, 2007

Bad Moon risin'

Been talking to some friends today about old wounds.
My real life is pretty private. The life I live now is far removed from what my past once was. Once upon a time, I was gullible and innocent. Once upon a time I believed that laws were for the protection of the innocent and the punishment of the guilty. Many years ago, that belief was shattered, when a bureaucracy used the law to go after me and my family in a very real way, for their own self-promotion and enrichment. Rather than rolling over and playing dead, I rose up in a rage and went after them. While my family was irreparably damaged by their actions, it was also ultimately saved by our refusal to bow down and accept their unrighteousness. I found out that evil really does lurk in the hearts of many, ready to jump out for their own self-gratification and promotion. I found out that people were, simply, not to be trusted. I found out that I could not live life silently, quietly, bothering no one and trusting that no one would bother me. My attorney back then called me "Don Quixote" - forever tilting at windmills and saving someone.

But I really don't like that persona. It is a defense against the world. What I really like is having the time to cook and bake and create artistry with my hands, and grow things, and take care of animals with all of their varying and different personalities. What I really like is peace and quiet. Nights in front of the fire. days in the field or in my shop or kitchen. Days where I never have to speak to another human, only cats and dogs and other critters that have simple tastes, simple needs, and simple responses. Purrs and puppy-snuggles for affection.

Then someone cries out for help and I am off again. More new friends want to hear my story. More people need someone to save them, to help explain why the people and governments and powers are going after them instead of leaving them alone. And I am on the road again.

I guess that is what really bugs me about all of the superficial crap going on around me, in the news, in the movies, in other peoples' lives. So much of this shit doesn't matter. So much of it is Disney World - artificial joy, artificial evil, phony pain, fake pleasures. Wii games and the latest Sudoku puzzle. Shit, that is - just shit, with no reality, no reason, no conclusion, an endless slippery downward sludge-slide of things that don't matter, and are created only for creation's sake, to occupy the mindless, the brainless, the senseless superficial folk.

Meanwhile, the world goes to hell around them, and they haven't a clue as to what it is all about, other than how it affects their own immediacy. They are the perfect swallowers, avid consumers, of shit - mouths open, vacant-eyed, nattering about things that don't matter,
dancing their way to hell under the revolving disco balls and neon lights that braise their skull-like faces in sharp relief.

Meanwhile, I talk with other people about things that matter. We talk about the computer generated evils that distract people from the real and creeping evils around them, that blind them to the truth with bright and dark, beautiful and deadly, multipixilated colors and experiences that are only viewed, never touched, tasted, smelt, or emoted.

"Doom, gloom, and rumors of boom" - it's coming, and The End is Near. I need a long white beard, a photographer's wrap, and a sandwich board sign. Or, maybe, just a computer graphic artist...

Saturday, November 24, 2007

Ahhh, that was relaxing

There I sat, in my bathrobe, drinking my coffee and mellowing out. I bought all my family's Christmas today, without fighting the crowds, without worrying about what place I had in line, or getting too cold or too tired standing outside some brightly lit store while the dimly lit parking lot filled with overly excited people, looking for bargains. I don't have that kind of money, can't afford to max out a credit card, and time is a premium with me any more.

I don't spend much on Christmas. Never have. Never will. One year I bought at the day-after Christmas sales, because I wouldn't see anyone til after Christmas anyway.

I did it all in between cleaning up the kitchen, watching a movie, and doing laundry. Peace and quiet, no dealing with people whom I would have to hit, no dealing with rude or exhausted cashiers, no trying to be polite to people whom I haven't seen who suddenly appear next to my shopping cart. Today the tree, wreath, and homemade decorations go up, and Christmas starts. And I still have money in my account. Ahhhhhh.

Last week I sent an ecard to a friend whom I love very much, whom I've loved for 20 years or more, whom I never get to see any more. We parted under bad circumstances not of our making. It is hard to love people when other people get between you; you can never be sure that they love you the same after all of the gossip and angst that comes between you. It is even harder, more frustrating, to love people when you have friends who hate each other, or despise each other, and you cannot make peace between them. Yet he answered right away, renewing my faith in our friendship. I don't love a whole lot of people (no matter what they might think) - maybe 10 all told. But it is good to love the few that I do.

A really nice guy dropped off a cooler full of deer meat this morning, Thanks. The larder would have been kind of bare in about four days. People don't know what it is like to go from $80,000 a year down to $40,000 a year in one day, with no hope of that changing any time soon, and it lasting and lasting and lasting for over two years as they wait for some kind of resolution that some bureaucracy is holding up to justify their paychecks. People don't know what its like to watch someone who used to be active and intelligent and downright funny slowly slip away, mentally and physically. And I am not normally a complainer, so most people don't know what my days are really like. Anymore, I just look for peace and quiet; my house a sheltering cave of silence except for the omnipresent TV sounds and pictures that keep someone else's brain synapses firing. (I hate most TV, aside from football and the hundreds of movies that I have recorded.)

So a restful and happy Thanksgiving week draws to a close, and a good thing too - because starting tomorrow all hell breaks loose and the Christmas rush inspires everyone to get together, call meetings, get things DONE before the holidays and New Year. Most of it doesn't matter, is as artificial as the plastic picks that adorn my handmade wreath; and I can't wait for the yearly hysteria to be over again.

Friday, November 23, 2007


Well, here it is, Black Friday, and all of the stupid people are slavering to get out and buy, buy, buy!

Thanks for keeping the economy high, thanks for proving that all of the anger and angst against the Chinese workers and American companies for poisoning our kids and dogs is silly and unfounded, thanks for proving that the gummint people are right - Americans are idiot sheep who have to be herded and led to an opinion.

Yesterday I was offered a job as moderator on one of the blogs I frequent. Apparently my consistency and ability to communicate, as well as my unemotional comments, has earned the higher-ups' respect. This is always the way. People are so impressed by someone who actually thinks and reasons that they want them to help them out, do things for them, take some of their burden. Yawn.

You can see by the comment on "Emotional Vampires" that I was chosen to do a survey for some college eggheads on blogging. As most people, the questions revealed their preformed prejudices on blogs. Apparently they seem to think that bloggers are lonely isolated people who are maybe just a little mentally unstable.

I wish I was lonely. I wish I was isolated. I wish I had mental instability as an excuse. The problem is that I see peoples' machinations, their manipulations, their ignorance, their simplicity and openmouthed gullibility, as so clearly evident that sometimes it burns the forefront of my brain and I don't want to look into the light any more. I am so tired of watching so many folk stumble around with idiot grins on their faces and open hands and arms, while the wolves among us manipulate and cut and slash without ever being noticed or commented upon. The wolves aren't really that bad - after all, aren't they polite and aren't they smiling? Of course they are, you bloody ignorant morons. Why wouldn't they be, when you will sacrifice your own children, homes, families, and lives to them; when the whole source of your existence is made up of your pleasant job, your too-expensive home and car, and insisting that everyone will love and respect you dependent on what you buy for them?

I had a dear friend once whose calling was so noble - to defeat the evil amongst us. He was a brave hero, slashing away at the wolves, defeating them all one by one, and everyone was amazed at him and loved him. He could have gone ever higher, and actually told me he wanted to - not to limit his victories to local ones, but to take on the world! He was strong and beautiful and incorruptible, and literally his aura glowed with a golden light that I had never before seen around any human being. A small minded woman, who could not see what was before her, only that it did not satisfy her needs, casually destroyed him. Other manipulating and eviscerating women followed, and he became like Mark Antony - a strong victorious warrior brought down by a woman. Now his aura is dark blue, with occasional flashes of green when he struggles to hold his head up once more. He is finished. His purpose gone, his abilities dulled, his desires banked; his hands, that once closed over the twin flaming sword hilts of justice and truth, now lie open and sapped by simpering women who bank on his past glory for their own empowerment. The hero is dead, and the wolves gather to feast on his bones.

Meanwhile, the frenzied sheep run from store to store, maxing out their credit cards, hoping in vain hope to find the one perfect gift that will buy them the love they so desperately desire. Skin bags of meaningless emotion and superficial desires, they quickly forget the heroes among us, and move on to the next wonderful bargain, pretending that the wolves do not exist - as long as they do not gaze directly into their yellow eyes.

Tuesday, November 6, 2007

Emotional Vampires

Tis the season...

for the emotional vampires to start clinging to our throats.

Seems like every holiday, they come out of the woodwork like palmetto bugs. You know who I mean - those creatures whose lives center solely around their needs, their wants, their desires; the people who cannot live without Sturm und Drang, violent highs, achingly miserable lows, and all of everyone's attention solely on them. No, they are not bipolars - that's a medical condition. This vampirism is a purposeful, conscious choice by people who will never get enough love, enough attention, from anyone at any time.

They will take on any affliction you can name to get attention. They will even harm themselves to get it. They accept no responsibility for the things they've done in their lives - it's always someone else's fault. And Thanksgiving and Christmas brings them out like maggots to the feast - because people are kinder, try to be more caring and better caretakers, better people, this time of year.

You can tell them by how they treat people who have helped them, over and over again, in the past and who are wise to them. They are supercilious, rude, snide, critical behind their backs - but have that swelteringly sweet smile of phony concern and affection on their faces when their knowledgeable enemy comes close. They talk down to the very people who boosted them up when they said that they needed help - and insult them in such winning ways in public!

They especially love to fawn over their current victim in public, humiliating her/him by their artificial and simpering attention, showing everyone and all concerned that they 'own' this victim, making a fool out of him or her. Other people are two-dimensional to them - past lovers, current victims, even their own children. They are not real people, only subjects to be manipulated, and the vampires (although they proclaim their passions loudly) feel nothing for them nor the damage that they cause them. All people to them are merely past or future victims, nothing more.

Meanwhile, their latest victim gives them everything they require (at the moment) - attention, money, prestige, whatever - until they are used up, drained bloodless and emotionless by the vampire that will not release them. Then the vampire kicks them to the curb, laughs in their faces, and goes in search of another victim - whom they have usually already lined up long before draining their latest. And the cycle begins again.

You can't tell a victim s/he IS a victim when her/his blood is being drained; oh, no! S/he will deny it vehemently and hate you for it. All you can do is wait until the vampire finishes with them and moves on - then a rapid transfusion of affection and concern, and even finances, will stabilize them. Unfortunately, unless they learn to break the cycle, they will become victimized again and again. Their own insecurities lead them to need to be victims just as the vampires need to suck them dry. And the cycle repeats... until individuals make choices to not be victims, doormats, ever again.

Do not feed the vampires.

Monday, November 5, 2007

More musings on Blogs and forums

I spend time on a real estate forum too; where people from all over the country talk about the homes they want, the homes they want to sell, and the ups and downs of the marketplace.
Some of the Realtors are shrill and scared, others want to know what buyers are out there, what they are looking for, what they can do to make their jobs more efficient and less abrasive. One realtor says she feels like a mongrel dog who has been rolled in dung and then shoved into a fancy dress garden party - she says that now Realtors are even less popular than lawyers!

I don't see why. Anyone with a brain had to see it coming. Didn't they? The hysteria, the suddenness of the predatory lenders popping up everywhere, the banks bending over backwards to give loans that they, in the past, would have refused to even consider before the 'client' walked in the door, the home prices going up, not every six months, but every month, every week, in the same neighborhood - didn't it remind anyone else of the Tulip hysteria of long ago?

Probably not. And probably no one reading this even knows what I'm talking about - when one tulip bulb went for $50,000, and people beggared themselves to own tulip bulbs - even one or two - because they were so beautiful, so popular, such a great investment! Probably no one reading this remembers the great Gold Rush of the early 1980's, either - when everyone with an extra $500 was buying gold Krugerrands. I have an old friend who will not speak to me anymore, because he made fun of me for not spending every last dime I had (as he did) on gold - and then when the market went bust, I used to call him and say, "So, Ken, how's your Krugerrands?" Sigh. No real loss. Stupid is as stupid does.

What kills me is how it happens over and over again, how many damfools fall for it, how many throw away their lives and futures on hysterical and ill-thought-out plans then expect the government to bail them out, or want to blame everyone including the people who took advantage of them, for their own basic stupidity.

The people who make the most money in their lives, and the people who survive hysterical and stupid frenzies, are the ones who just plug along, only buying what they need, only spending what they can afford, and not worrying about what other people think. They may not be millionaires, but they won't lose their shirts or their homes because they have no idea how money works - or how the politicians play them. And they won't go into old age sending psychics thousands, or scam artists millions, demanding what they feel that they deserve - a handout - and getting what they deserve - robbed blind. If we would just stop bailing these people out, time and again, Darwin would work at last and we would stop breeding stupidity into each generation.

Say, I've got some great land in Baja California. Wanna buy in?

Sunday, November 4, 2007

Elsewhere In the World

I spend time in forums, blogs, and chatrooms all around the world; any English-speaking forum is pretty much fair game for my interest. I have learned a lot of instructive things; what is going on in other parts of our country and world, how people feel about and have various perspectives on The New World Order, Globalism, The Euro, politics both from within their own countries and without. I've chatted with (people who purported to be) Russians, Indians, Arabs, Israelis, British, Pakistanis, as well as folks from our own country. It is always fascinating how their news sources and opinion columnists view things and report things, and how the mindset varies from country to country and people to people. I get links to news sources all over the world - and it's funny how their interpretations of terrorism, global warming, and financial stability differ from ours.

One of my favorite places is a forum on self-sufficiency. These are not leftovers from the Y2K scare, or escapees from the tinfoil hat club. OK, some of them are. But most are people who share ideas on how to be truly self-sufficient; everything from 'loading their own' to the best chickens for egg and meat production. We have participants from Portugal, even the Netherlands, who talk about what they are trying to do. It is a happy place, a quiet and serene place, where we can talk about not just what they do but why they do it - their political, social, and spiritual beliefs as well as their day-to-day struggles.

Some of them are 'closet' survivalists - they have computers at home (that are run on solar or generator electricity, and transmit via satellite) where they telecommute to work, or they go to work in cities while their homes are very rural. Some are diehard 'shackers' - haven't worked in a paying job for years; they make their money off of their farmsteads by cutting wood, selling eggs and meat, plowing/cutting/logging/grading other peoples' properties, doing the things that most folk haven't the time or inclination to do.

We cheered when Deberosa got her first Dexter cattle; she gives us updates on what they do and how easy they are to care for. We debate the pros and cons of different breeds of chickens, cattle, horses, and goats. We talk about making soap, cheese, butter, and even wine. We
share contacts of where from to order the best cages, seeds, churns, milking equipment, tractor parts.

We talk about SHTF and TEOTWAWKI scenarios, discuss politics and candidates and theology and religion with calm respect and equal passion. If some individual posts a long and involved diatribe about paranoid tinfoil hat scenarios, we politely ignore it. But it is evident that the group feels that something is wrong in the world, and they just want to step away from the violence, the illegal immigration, the gangs, the terrorism, the passionate and divisive topics that they see as being promoted mainly on purpose to cause events to happen - much like the magician who waves his right hand while performing legerdemain with his left.

There is a whole undercurrent of people who are quietly and steadily working toward survival of almost anything - not fearfully or in a panic, but calmly and even happily stepping back and away from violence and upheaval.

Saturday, November 3, 2007

And then there's times...

That I feel mellow.

I went to Publix today to get my Thanksgiving stuff. I'd already baked 8 dozen butterscotch/pecan/oatmeal cookies this morning, and a pork butt was sitting in the oven while two loads of laundry were busily working away.
Everyone was rushing around pushing each other out of the way, shoving past and in front of each other. So... I walked. I held doors. I was soft spoken and polite and careful and even made nice comments to people - who were obviously completely floored. Apparently Saturday is the day to speed through grocery stores and parking lots so that one can bustle home again.

I was thinking...

There is a woman I know who always brags about her cooking; bakes and cooks and treats everyone to everything imaginable. Yet I have always found her food particularly tasteless and store-bought-flavored. The gentle nuances of basil or feta are apparently an unopened book to her. Dry and crusty are adjectives that come to mind when I think about her baked goods. Yet I would never try to compete with her, far less enlighten her, in her little world of make believe. She has no idea that people are simply being polite.She brags about her canned and packaged throw-togethers like they were truly remarkable creations, not even bothering to throw in a little real butter instead of the tasteless spreads or empty fat of shortening.

A friend of mine always says. "You can COOK?" in that incredulous voice. Yes I can. I've been cooking from scratch since I was 10, and picked out my mother's new stove when I was 12, because I was the one who knew how to use it. In our house, it was either learn to cook - or eat grossly unpalatable mush. Besides, cooking from scratch saves a ton of money, adds delicate flavors, and increases vitamin uptake - the reason we are supposed to eat to begin with. I simply don't ram my productions down everyone's throats - partly because getting it out the door before it's eaten is a challenge.

So as I was watching people bustling to and fro, trying to pick out this frozen pie or that one, or debating the pros and cons of this canned food or that, I thought about how these folks would suffer if there were no more microwaves or instant everything, or no fast food drive thrus. It made me quietly sad. So I bought two new window basil plants to cheer me up.