Yeah, probably not. But we don't know that for sure yet.
Wednesday, December 30, 2020
I have been commenting over at Gab for a while. I hang out with some folks I encountered over at Instasurrender before he went full commie retard. What is it with alcoholic law profs and their love of Biden? Do they admire his intellect? His grasp of facts? The fact that his running mate is a bigger whore than their spouses?
I see that Trooper York has an account there but that it is unused. That's a shame, as Gab could stand a bit of Trooper style humor.
There you have it. It is freezing here now, I got some work done, 2020 is just about through and I, for one, am not thrilled about what might happen when it turns 2021 and starts drinking.
Tuesday, December 29, 2020
On Nov. 3, I sat down with MrM around 10pm to start watching the televised election returns. We stayed with FOX as Florida and Ohio were called for Trump, and began alternating between FOX, CNN and NEWSMAX after FOX's early call of AZ for Biden. At that point in time, Trump was still trending ahead of Biden in Michigan. On the visual models presented, Kent County, which houses the city of Grand Rapids (a traditionally Republican stronghold where Trump held his final rally of the campaign with thousands braving the cold to attend) was showing up red and the county situated above and to the left of Kent (a traditionally blue Democrat leaning county with a large African American community) was also showing up red, along with most of the rest of Michigan, including a equally surprising number of counties in and around the Detroit area.
After MrM went to sleep at midnight with the belief that Trump was in the lead, I continued to watch into the small hours of the morning with a growing sense of confusion and disbelief forming. I saw the mystifying slowdown in counting and reporting take place, and watched the Trump lead suddenly vanish to the point where, at 4am, Kent County unexpectedly flipped blue for the first time in fifty six years! I wondered how that could be possible and when I finally went to sleep just before sunrise, it was with the belief that something unusual and untoward seemed to have taken place with Biden receiving just enough votes in MI to overcome the lead Trump had been holding. I spent the next few days (and weeks!) in a state of surprise and disbelief, unable to reconcile what I’d seen with what I knew from lived experience to be true regarding the values, work ethic, commitments and voting history of a city/county/community that had consistently voted Republican since 1964.
Though it took me a while to figure out from online reading what the reporting delay was about, and how the inexplicable turn around I’d witnessed in one particularly strong Republican county may have been managed, the greater question of how to handle the disbelief I was carrying and what perspective to take going forward, left me stumped.
I decided to stop watching cable news and focus on the “chop wood and carry water” aspect of daily life. To address the sense of incongruity, confusion and overwhelm I was feeling I began drawing mandalas during the time I'd previously devoted to listening to and watching the news; and I started with white colored pencil on black paper (using the Light in the Dark technique spelled out in Judith Cornell's books) adding more color to later work. Over time I was able to piece together an awareness and understanding of what may have happened and what I experienced that made sense to me. And I began praying for a “return to balance” for myself and all involved.
On Nov 15, just prior to Trooper York’s post on old man Coyote as Trickster, I read about and ordered a book that sounded intriguing called The Trickster's Hat: A Mischievous Apprenticeship in Creativity by Nick Bantock (author of the Griffin and Sabine Series).
On Nov 19, I responded to TY’s post with the following comment/quote regarding the role Trickster plays: Trickster alternately scandalizes, disgusts, amuses, disrupts, chastises, and humiliates (or is humiliated by) the animal-like proto-people of pre-history, yet he is also a creative force transforming their world, sometimes in bizarre and outrageous ways, with his instinctive energies and cunning. Eternally scavenging for food, he represents the most basic instincts, but in other narratives, he is also the father of the Indian people and a potent conductor of spiritual forces in the form of sacred dreams.
On Nov 20, SixtyGrit’s post on the sculptor/author Bill Reid, and the bad ass Raven Who Steals the Light, provided another example of the connection between tricksters and the creative force.
On Nov 23, The Trickster’s Hat arrived, and I opened it to find this as the first exercise: “Draw a 2” x 2” square. Inside the square, draw as many animals as you can in five minutes. Now draw a second 2” x 2” square, but leave one of the four sides open. Then draw as many animals as you can escaping out of the square. Again, you have five minutes. Hint: this is not about drawing skills. It’s about doing something relatively lighthearted that gets you moving. But mostly it’s to remind yourself that you need to enjoy what you’re doing”.
After following those instructions and letting the all the animals out, I went on to draw and fill several additional boxes, filling one with money and another with ballots before letting it all loose with the ballots following the money. And for the first time since the election, I felt a momentary sense of lightness and fun return, strong enough for me to marvel, first at the power of the creative force in the midst of disbelief, and secondly at the presence of tricksters and synchronicity to encourage, reinforce and invite me forward into whatever the future (and year ahead) might hold.
Friday, December 25, 2020
Thursday, December 24, 2020
Wednesday, December 23, 2020
"Time to go on the field Babe."
"Be whicha in a minute keed. I just want to sit a minute."
"No problem Babe. The fans are waiting is all. Everybody loves you."
"I know keed I know. That's the problem. That's always been the problem."
Tuesday, December 22, 2020
A friend and former coworker took this picture the other day:
Here is a sycamore bowl I made based on concepts explored by the genius Canadian woodturner Stephen Hogbin:
I am surprised he doesn't have his own Wiki page - I have several of his books, he is one of the most innovative turners to come along in decades.
And just because I can, here is a picture of my old cat:
My friend took another picture of the Great Conjunction, and intentionally overexposed it so that the moons of the two planets would show up. Well, the brighter moons, anyway.
"If I was looking for that I would call Kildare. He is the fruit. Plus you are too old."
"Look just because there is snow on the roof doesn't mean there ain't a fire in the furnace."
"You know what I want Doctor."
"What's that Kahn?'
"And stop staring at my tits."
Monday, December 21, 2020
"What don't you understand Robin. These are my tits. You are a red blooded teenage boy. You are supposed to stare at them."
"But Batman says I should only stare straight ahead when we climbing up a building with our Bat ropes. Otherwise it is not polite."
"He just wants you to stare at his ass. Don't you get it. He's a fanoik."
"Never mind. I am going to give the Penguin a call. That little freak is always horny."
"No that's Doc Holliday. He likes gladiator movies. I swing both ways. I am an acrobat."
"Well that's nice but you can put me down now."
"But I like to show off my muscles carrying you around like this."
"That's fine but I want to walk on my own two feet. And one more thing."
"Stop staring at my tits.
Sunday, December 20, 2020
Joseph and Mary walked through an orchard greenA wonderful little story, barely a hundred words. Always embedded in standard doctrinal lessons, no doubt to allay any misgivings the parish priest or minister might have, but a nice, funny little story about human nature. A joke, in fact.
They saw berries and saw cherries fair to be seen
As Joseph and Mary walked in the wood
They saw cherries and berries red as any blood
Oh, then bespoke Mary so meek and so mild
"Pluck me one cherry for I am with child"
Oh, then bespoke Joseph with words unkind
"Let him pluck thee a cherry that brought thee with child"
Oh, then bespoke the babe within his mother's womb
"Bow down you tall tree and give my mother some"
Then bowed down the cherry tree to his mother's hand
Then she cried "See, Joseph, I have cherries at command"
Its scant three verses are full of humorous tropes. Not refined humor, either, but earthy, farm-and-village stuff:
- The old man who marries a young wife
- Pregnant women with odd food cravings
- “Cherry” as slang for virginity
- The jealous husband who thinks he's been cuckolded
- And that old favorite, “Be careful what you wish for . . .”
- Mary picks the breeziest, most flippant way to tell Joseph the news: “Get me a cherry, honey – I'm pregnant.”
- Joseph replies with sharp sarcasm: “Whoever got you pregnant can get you your damn cherry.”
- Jesus thinks, “Whoa, dude – that's how you talk to my mother? Watch this!”
- God, no doubt chuckling in His beard, delivers the punchline.
- And Mary can't resist a last little dig: “Oh, look, Joseph – cherries!”
And there's your Christmas Message.
Thursday, December 17, 2020
When I was a kid my dad had to work extra jobs to support us. One of them was in Brownsville deep in the heart of Jungleland. We would take the GG train to the Flushing Avenue stop. When you got outside it was like you were in postwar Germany or something. Like Dresden without the schnitzel. We had to walk about three blocks to Broadway to a furniture store where this old Jewish guy would rip off the moolies by making them buy stereos on lay away. My dad did the accounting. Anyhoo the only reason we were able to go there was because Pfizer had a plant there. You see they put the chemical plant in a bad neighborhood because what the fuck were they going to do about. Oh the smell. Man it was the worst thing I ever smelled times ten. Think Elizabeth New Jersey. Rotten eggs. Hillary's twat. It would make you gag as you walked. The only thing is they had armed guards with German Shepard's patrolling the perimeter. They would often walk us to the store. They were good guys. But the smell!
Now these guys are making to covid vaccine.
Hard pasadena on that one boys.
Wednesday, December 16, 2020
Dad Bones said...
"I wouldn't have thought there could be a tree in this world that can't be identified by Sixty Grit so that is a mystery. Until you figure it out you could call it the 'monoleaf' tree."
This one has me stumped. I posted it on FB and friends and family chimed in with a series of bad puns. Leave it alone, they said, and so on. Funny bunch, just not helpful. My tree books led me down a series of bad paths - but it has become obvious that this is an exotic tree planted as an ornamental, but it's the first time I have encountered this particular species.
So, after a day of looking through my field guides and posting questions online and still not figuring out what the heck kind of tree it is, I am now going to post yesterday's pictures right here:
My twenty year old cat was enjoying the sunshine yesterday - he knows how to take advantage of free heat:
Sunday, December 13, 2020
Ezra Pound's response to “Sumer Is Icumen In”:
Winter is icummen in,
Lhude sing Goddamm.
Raineth drop and staineth slop,
And how the wind doth ramm!
Skiddeth bus and sloppeth us,
An ague hath my ham.
Freezeth river, turneth liver,
Damn you, sing: Goddamm.
Goddamm, Goddamm, 'tis why I am, Goddamm,
So 'gainst the winter's balm.
Sing goddamm, damm, sing Goddamm.
Sing goddamm, sing goddamm, DAMM.
Here's another (rather bizarre) picture from the site where I swiped the one at the top.
Wednesday, December 9, 2020
I translated the first stanza of this poem for my Fall's Here post, and noted then that the poem was actually about winter. Now that it's winter, here's the whole thing.
iam calor liquit omnia The warmth of summer steals away
et abiit; and goes to ground.
nam signa coeli ultima The sun seeks out the farthest signs
sol petiit. upon his round.
Monday, December 7, 2020
The weather turned cold today. Felt like snow. Nah, can't be. I went outside and what do you know - white flakes falling from the sky!
Not a great recording, but I like Glenn Gould's playing. The transition from the 2nd movement to the third at about 7:14 in is one of the great moments in classical music and Mr. Gould knocks it out of the park.
The heartbreaking part of the story is that Ludwig's deafness had progressed to the point that he could not play this concerto. It was the only one he never performed. And it was the last piano concerto he ever composed. What might have been, right?
Friday, December 4, 2020
I saw a picture of the criminals unloading boxes full of illegal votes and right at that moment this started playing on my computer:
I await some good news but so far it is thin on the ground.
I got a message that there would be walkies at 12:30 today "Ahead of the rain". Well, alrighty then, I had no idea rain was in the forecast, but walkies are good. Last time I walked with my friend she wore a mask. I get that she is a leftist, but I have known her for close to 30 years, so I am willing to overlook her political leanings. We don't talk of such things.
Anyway, she is soft spoken and I am hard of hearing. When she has a mask on I don't even try to understand what she is saying - just nod my head, say "Uh huh" and keep walking. Dogs need to see other dogs, so I will do what I must to keep my puppy happy. But mostly I take my dog on walks alone - just the two of us. One other aspect of this that bugs me is that she is just about the only other human being I see on a weekly basis - at some level, just like dogs, humans need to see other humans and get some feedback. Masks dehumanize and depersonalize humans. I want to see her smile. But what the hey, if she's going to join the herd of idiot leftists I can manage without her.
But when I got her message I decided to join her for a walk. What's the worst that can happen, right? So I get there and what do you know? She's not wearing a mask. Awesome! I will take that! Yes! So we had a nice walk, there was no rain, there was much lively discussion and even with the lowering sky there was a brightness to the day that I really appreciated.
I got back home and started work on a birthday present for a friend who was born on December the 7th, 1951, a day that will, well, you know the rest. Kept working, endured some setbacks, but after getting some grub in me, decided to finish it up tonight. And I did. But since my schedule was a bit off, due to walkies and workies, I was late getting out for my run. Guess what - just as I was lacing up my running shoes the rain showed up. Boy howdy did it ever - we are having a torrential downpour out there. Maybe that means no running this evening. Hmm, don't know what to make of that, but it is what it is, right?
Here is a picture I took yesterday of an ash bowl I finished a while back. It is available in my Etsy store:
I like my new phone - it makes my work look good.
Here is a picture of my 20 year old cat - he won't stay still, but occasionally I can capture his likeness:
I am a member of Kindle Unlimited. That's the Amazon program that lets you download ten free books if you pay an monthly fee. It is a pretty good feature since you can change the books as much as you want. I read many more that ten books a month so I get my monies worth. I simply read something than delete it when I find a new book that interests me.
The books on the feature are of two varieties. One is new books by unknown authors. You can sample someones work without investing too much money into it. The other books are the earlier or more obscure work of established authors. This is what I usually download
Lawrence Block is one of my favorite authors. In fact I have to say "When the Sacred Gin-mill" closes is just about my favorite book. Block's hero Matthew Scudder writes about the drinking life. In that book he discusses the type of people you meet hanging out in a bar. It is scary how on the money he is as I recognize myself in one of his characters.
Another of his series revolves around Keller. He is a hit man and a stamp collector.. I know it seems crazy but it all seems to work. I ended up reading about eight of his novels or novellas that were on Kindle unlimited. I guess it is the Netflix effect. You just binge on something ready or watching five or six in a row. After all who wants to wait?
These books are excellent. A quick easy enjoyable read. A good introduction to Block. When I was reading it I wondered who I would get to play Keller. I do that all the time with characters. For example I always saw Paul Newman as Travis Mcgee. Tom Selleck as Spencer. Sam Elliot as Tell Sacket. Sometimes they are cast that way. Often they are not.
For Keller I see the guy who plays Pope on "Animal Kingdom." He is pretty ordinary looking and very calm with a distinct lack of effect. But I can see him being a hitman.
Check out the Keller books if you can. Or the Scudder series. It will be a great way to spend some time if you are stuck inside because of our new communist overlords.
I really never got along with my cousin Eddie. He was a lot younger than me and we had different interests. I loved music and dancing and I admit I was boy crazy. Eddie was pee crazy.
You see Eddie was a werewolf. Now they get off on their sense of smell. They were always sniffing around and the stronger the scent the better. It got to be very embarrassing when he was smelling peoples butts in elevators while we were doing our Christmas shopping at Woolworths.
Eddie was obssessed with the smell of urine. He would wander all over the neighborhood peeping in windows. Not to see women naked. Only to see them pee.
This led to him getting arrested all the time. He was a junvile so he didn't get a record. But it was getting close to the time he would be put in kiddie jail. So we had to come up with a solution.
It was Grandpa that did it. He always liked to putter around in his workshop. It reminded him of the old days when he used to hang out with his friend Viictor the Doctor. He decided to come up with a contraption that would help Eddie.
You see it was a urine robot. It had a complicated task. It would seek out urine soaked clothing and steal it by stuffing into it's giant cylindrical head. There was one problem. It just didn't work.
So little Eddie had to back to stealing soiled panties out of the hampers of all the locals. Until he got arrested for the last time and had to go to juvie.
Eddie was a pervert.
Wednesday, December 2, 2020
Every morning when I wake,
Dear Lord, a little prayer I make,
O please do keep Thy lovely eye
On all poor creatures born to die
And every evening at sun-down
I ask a blessing on the town,
For whether we last the night or no
I’m sure is always touch-and-go.
We are not wholly bad or good
Who live our lives with Morning Wood,
And Thou, I know, wilt be the first
To see our best side, not our worst.
O let us see another day!
Bless us all this night, I pray,
And to the sun we all will bow
And say, good-bye – but just for now!
Here is the version they sang 35 years later, on their Anniversary Tour. The accent is toned down almost to BBC Standard.
Lyrics and translation can be seen here.
Tuesday, December 1, 2020
We had the family over. No masks. Lots of food. Fun times with the kids running around all over. No football as we have all given up on the game. So we had good conversation.
Google was nice enough to send me other video where they picked over my photos to show some of the home cooked food that I have made over the years.
It's a good thing that I don't take any dick pics. Just sayn'
Saturday, November 28, 2020
Back in January I posted this picture:
Got the usual stuff done today, walking, running, working, it's all good.
Hauled my red oak table outside today and took a picture of it. One person expressed interest in buying it but we were unable to strike a deal.
Thursday, November 26, 2020
Well, I'm thankful I've finally got a new Windows 10 box that can talk to Blogger. On the other hand, I still can't access my old email account, despite having talked to half the Yahoo techs in Mumbai (and paid $4.99 for the privilege). Grrr. I'll try again tomorrow (Round 7 or so), after another inexplicable 24-hour lockout expires. Also, there's the whole Ongoing Coup thing.
Nevertheless, I saw a rabbit on my walk today, and got the back yard raked; so I'll ignore the Doubtful Guest and enjoy the day. I hope you all will do the same.
 Hey, what happened to the Blogger "Labels" list?
Wednesday, November 25, 2020
Tuesday, November 24, 2020
As we near the end of year one of our permanent lockdown, I can reflect on some themes that have developed along the way. One thing that has popped up over and over is MCM design. I lived through that epoch and I grew to dislike those idioms. Sure, I can endure the occasional boomerang motif or some nice '50s colors, but that's probably only because I am colorblind.
My father drove Fords from the times of the Depression up until 1961. We used to get Ford Times magazine as a result of his purchase of several new ones in the fifties. I liked the artwork I saw in that mag. One artist in particular stuck with me, he was named Charley Harper. I was watching Antiques Roadshow someone showed up with originals of his work.
Monday, November 23, 2020