Defending Myself In An Uncreated World

I thought it was supposed to cool down today, but I must have heard the weatherman's report wrong. Over a hundred again today. I've been watering my new figs. The cutting I put out that had a leaf on it earlier, lost that leaf during a rainstorm, but another bud seems to be developing, so maybe the roots are still growing.

The commercial fig plant I bought that was doing so well is not doing so well. Somebody suggested it may be moles that are eating the feeder roots away. I'm performing a useless ritual of taking my hammer and beating on the bamboo stobs I put around the bush to identify it so that it wouldn't be chopped down by accident.

This heat wave is really taking it's toil on the ground water. It's drying my lawn grass up. We haven't had a decent rain for a while, and then the heat wave on top of that has reeked havoc on the plant life.

The arthritis and carpal tunnel problems I'm having in my hands and wrists are just not getting better. I've developed some serious pain in the muscles around my elbows. There is a lotta stress on the muscles because they don't relax when I go to sleep. I wake up with my arms from my elbow down in serious pain, and if I accidently bump my wrist against an immovable object, I can't stop from crying out. It's a good thing I live by myself.

It doesn't really do any good to bring this up with the doctor at the VA. She just gives me a prescription for ibuprofen or Naproxen and tells me to come back in a year or two. I can buy the genetic version just about as cheap and not have to drive back and forth to Fayetteville. I don't mind the drive at all, it's the gasoline prices that driving me batty.

It's because I only have to rely on my car to go to the grocery store or do some local shopping that I'm not as affected by the high gas prices as other people who have to commute to their jobs on a regular basis. I feel their pain, but I think the high gas prices is gonna have a beneficial, although totally undesirable affect on America.

I was born at the end of the Great Depression in 1939. Not all that many people had cars back then. People didn't travel very either, even after the war. If schoolchildren traveled as a group to the State Capitol sixty-five miles away they'd done something special, and traveling as a group to Washington, D.C. practically meant you were a world traveler to the local folks. People did just fine after the war was over. There was a chicken in every pot and a car in every driveway. Soon enow, there be two, and maybe three or four cars in every driveway. Gluttony.

The people in the United States have been living too high on the hog. They're over educated. There has gotta be poor people to do the work nobody else in their right mind wants to do if they don't hafta. Children who want more than they have to have will always get it. A Rainman doesn't need to know which way the wind blows. We've turned into a bunch of swine. It ain't gone hurt nobody to walk or ride a bicycle a few miles a day. It'll be the slimming down of American.

It's the NASCAR fans that are going to suffer the most from high gas prices. These people apparently work themselves into an obsessive state about cars. To me, cars are a mode of transportation, and a damned good mode of transportation at that. That's just not the way it is with some of the people I've met over the years, who are otherwise fairly reasonable people.

I've never been to a NASCAR race in my life. I don't read about racing much in any of the media I interact with. I don't avoid it, it just doesn't mean anything special to me other than something to say when I'm around NASCAR fans. I pay attention enough to go along to get along. Here in the Bible Belt you can't eat breakfast in a public place without hearing something about NASCAR at some table you pass.

I have a tendency to think that just about anybody who gets fanatical about any subject or topic there is plays a fool's game. Most any fanatic about anything that I've ever talked to (more than fifteen minutes) readily admits they're a fanatic about whatever rings their bell. I've met people who lost their fanaticism for some reason or the other and were just lost souls without something to be crazy about.

Maybe that's the way it is with me. I think that may be why I write as if a fanatic. I've kept some journal or diary or as a record of my endeavors since early childhood. It's only made me an asshole. I didn't write anything I liked until I approached and surpassed the age of thirty. I burned stacks and stacks of stuff I'd written since childhood in the belief that if I didn't, I wouldn't be given anything else to write. I pay as I go or try to stick between the ditches on my way outta town.

I pay a lot. Much of what I have to pay for is putting other people in the position of having to pick up behind me, because if push comes to shove I"m just gonna find another place to claim I'm not you from. It doesn't have to be in yo' face to be in yo' face. It can happen from a long way away. That takes knowing some shit about knowing some shit, but only in real time.

Right damned now is the only ti-me anybody can do anything about something. Most people, including me, spend most of their ti-me living in the past. Getting my ducks in a row is an activity about the past, but the reason to get my ducks in a row is about a conscious knowing that only gnows what's right when it sees it. It's with the archer's eye the duck paddles itself unknowingly into alignment so that one arrow provides a feast with the least effort. The duck sacrifices itself to be part of the hunter's flow. No blame.

The hyphen I place in the normal form of ti-me is a little bit of a mystery to me. I don't know exactly why I do it. When I split the term no-mad it seems obvious that I'm indicating a person who is not mad. I suggest that the person who is not mad invites the madman to co-me with it as if Truth Or Dare. One invites the Other to be-co-me as if human. If you're in a state of oneness you know it's not possible, and yet when the One is divided it can't not know it's impossible for it to become human, and that's why wars start.

There's nothing particular special about me putting a hyphen in ti-me. I separate the term "me" out by hyphens anywhere I encounter it. I deliberately created this obsession for to amuse myself. I think it's cute to point out how the term "me" is incorporated into other words when it only has one real me-and-thee-ing (me-and-ing). I love tossing words around to make salad.