Disambiguation: the clarity that results from TSH'ingTF -
   (not really oxymoronic, just a bit cloudy / my scatological moment)
That word just got stuck in my head sometime in the last couple of days.  Don't recall from where or just why.  It's like seeing a playing card face down - on a table, in the street, on the top of a deck, and turning it over and each time it's the ace of spades and you start feeling spooked and looking over your shoulder.  Something in the air. Something stirs.  'Something Wicked This Way Comes.' (Bradbury or Shakespeare - take your choice.)

You are probably familiar with the medical term, Code Blue, but do you know about Code Brown?  You run towards one and away from the other.  Call it the disambiguation of the blocked bowel syndrome.  A dirty healing.

Something seems very, very wrong of late.  The sky is darkening despite blue-sky claims to the contrary from our leading lights, and their paymaster lobbyists.  I haven't hit you with a rant lately; maybe it is time for a small one.  I give us 3 or 4 months before things get ugly - September at the latest.  Too many states are coming up on new fiscal years as broke as the bozo in Dicken's poorhouse.  Too much money is needed.  Needed everywhere, by all so-called functioning governmental units.  This is all over the world, too.  Clarity = Ugly.

I don't mention this eerie sort of fluttery-calm-before-the-storm feeling just to irritate you; I am deeply worried as I have not been for quite a few months.  The big financial bust got papered over last year - with newly printed greenbax.  Nothing got fixed. The corruption continues on all levels and graspy little fingers are itchily advancing to get at you, and maybe even me. 'Somebody is gonna pay':  the fingers are on the keyboard now tapping out a message to the future.  The greed and need is all so deeply rooted that it isn't going to come out gently. (No soft remediation process is currently envisioned say the docs. A conundrum wrapped in an enema?)

The next two paras are lifted from Chas. site:  http://www.oftwominds.com/blogmar10/entitlement-dependency03-10.html  The entire linked commentary is worth a look; we peek into the mirror and blush.  The enemy is in the house and really getting pissed.  I think anger over the health care bill barely brushes the surface.  How 'bout the Gunmen for Jesus the feds picked up?  Grass roots with a vengeance;  Hutarees of Michigan gird your flaky loins.  I certainly can't think of any better way to save civilization than by shooting folk so I can ambush the mourners.  The White Man's Savior lives and he's smokin' dude!

(CHS sez:)

"Those of you who have experienced co-dependent relationships know how terribly debilitating such arrangements inevitably become: resentment flows freely in both directions, both from those crippled by insecurity, self-loathing, passivity and the need to be "saved" constantly, and those imprisoned by the need to "save" the self-destructive dependent who excels at creating endless obstacles to autonomy, self-awareness and personal responsibility."

"We as a nation have become the resentful dependents of a corrosive, unsustainable system of corporate welfare which has been packaged as politically popular entitlements, and the abundance of our resentments knows no bounds. We resent other nations for not sublimating their wants and needs to ours, and we resent those who are still in charge of their own lives because they prove passive resentment isn't the only possible state of being in America."

So, the Z was in Maine for 36 hours trying to get from NYC to Houston without passing thru Tucson, or Calgary.  She did, at least, get two good nocs sleep.  The last one attributed to red wine and cough syrup - what's with this stuff?  I may have to give it a look - does it only work on the women?  Homes in on estrogen receptors?  Pheromones for the Sand Man...

Rocky (Flatty U) meowed at the door as the Z exited:  "My mother!  My sister!  My mother!"  etc.  One seriously disturbed puss doing her Faye Dunaway routine.  (Leave Polanski alone - go after the priest who scored with 200 deaf children.) 

Oh, one thing to mention, and then I will back away completely from rantish material.  Heard a fellow saying that the real breaking point in the economy will come, here anyway, when the yield on the 10 year note gets up toward 4.25% and the mkts. begin to buckle.  The ten year has been moving up toward 4% lately.  Might be a fine indicator to watch if you want to know which way the mkts. and the dollar will break - actually it isn't 'which way?', the way is down, but at 'what point?'  I do trust the idea that everything will hinge on the cost of capital; 4.25% on the ten year seems a decent benchmark.  As close as I come to wanting to offer advice.  (Why the cost of capital?  Think debt:  massive, huge, metastasizing, and needing to be rolled over again and again, at ever higher cost.  Think money, borrowed money, that pays for all the things we "expect" and are entitled to: education, health care, social security, unemployment, wars, snow removal, libraries, firemen....  And try to think of what you could do without, because we all will.)

Pat remains in Calif. gamboling with birthdayed daughters.  (The real gambling was in having them in the first place.)  Hey, everybody's boat is leaky - get over it.  Seems they had the annual bbq b-day party, beeg reason for her visit, and everyone and their newborn showed up.  Ara and Natty got there, so the England side of the family, with Russianesque companion, was present in height if not numbers.  Pat gets to carry both banners but has to wave the Forsey one the hardest at such doings.  I am assured it was a wondrous success. (Especially her Hawaiian Macaroni Salad - serve with Spam for a flavor-bang.)

Having had her momentary fill of Baby Jack - he used to be so cute and cuddly, and now, only a year and a half later, a toddler, he howls madly, bares his teeth, and charges moving objects, Were we all like that at one time?  Pat has moved on to a more sedate stay with a Berkeley daughter.  She will have sense enough to come home soon.  Nothing finally grinds you down like the family you have by blood, the one you didn't get to choose but have to love and support in spite of all. Just the norm; the genetic jackpot.

Probably I am over caffeinated; dropped by Starbux for my bags of hot composting grounds and sipped a vente cuppa bold pick.  Had a couple with the Z at the off-to-the-jetport breakfast, too.  Maybe I will fade on this letter until I settle a bit.  ((RATTTA TAT TAT - says the heart that beats in my chest...  only for you Patty.))


Hours later and I am more nearly sane.  Contacted the guy who is selling the 15 pallets of concrete blocks for $750 and am off to see them tomorrow.  It is a lot of blocks; he is selling them as 'must buy all'.  It is about 20 tons of blocks.  The good news is that he will help me load, loan me his trailer to haul them, about 7 to 8 loads total, and he is only 12 miles away.  Does life get any better?  So, here is the basis for my raised beds in the swamp garden.  No pouring cement.  No hammering together boards that will rot.  Just a bit of back work.  And I do have the indomitable Chuckles Kubota to assist me.  Pat will be soooooo happy when she hears about this!  Be time to start hauling manure soon.  I am sure she will want to help.

Wow!  Homestead has some new feature that lets you see who is visiting your site, or at least how many of them.  I am amazed.  I am getting hundreds of unique visitors per month from all over the world.  (What makes them unique, I ask myself?  Are they toss-off euphemisms?  Maladjusted wave wanderers?  Just crazies in the net's back alleys?)  Just today I see the U.S. Army visited me.  Hmmmm......  There are other visits from govt. agencies and 20% are from unidentified sources.  This all seems pretty weird to me.  I do have to say that the largest number of visitors still come to see my metal working rebuild pages; it is nice to know that they remain of some use.

The information is fascinating. Fully 93% of my visitors come from Asia or Africa, or the moon???  Not possible. Must be folk who can hide what continent they are really on from the cyber-sleuths.  Crafty slack-jaw hacker sorts smoking medicinal marijuana and drooling into constantly shorting keyboards.  And 30k of them have plugged in to Casa F/E,  not the 10k the sick, lying counter shows on the index page.  And people are visiting who speak about 30 different languages.  What does this all mean?  Mass boredom is overcoming the world?  Internet addiction is waaaay uuuuppp?  I have been tapped for greater things?  Tapped?  Is my phone tapped...must check.  It is fun, indeed, to find yourself surprised now and then.  Meaning doesn't have to come into it. 

I would have sworn I'd been here before, a couple of nights ago, a movie I watched with Z; it was somewhere east of Split, not far from Sarajevo, north of Kosovo.  The rain made one long smear of the thin woods and the unhealing muddy trail snaked around and thru mounds of post industrial debris, its sloppy ridges melting backbones. Rusted giants slept under the trees. Several mobile homes were scattered along the perimeter of the immature forest, most blasted open as if by La Abrelata del Cielo - (roughly, the Can Opener of Heaven, an invention of the early industrial revolution that tore homes open looking for little girls and boys to send to the mills and mines.)  Others looked only slightly less ruined and vaguely inhabited.  I found a man and a barking black dog.  We talked about the weight of it all, the simple destructive mass, and I told him I was sorry but I could not buy that many concrete blocks.  He understood completely and turned back into the maze of his Maine homestead.  I imagined rifles tracking me as I headed back out toward the distant highway.  Summer was certainly a'coming.

Not sure I am done here but will put it up for Pat to editorialize.  You may run into it, too.  don e, etc.


This page was last updated: March 31, 2010
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