living in a yellow can o beans

"Flying" from Magical Mystery Tour might have been a good choice as an accompaniment to the restless wind inside a letter box.

NASA Launching Beatles Tune Into Space

if you have to ask

you probably can't afford it.
another campaign year grinding me to a nub in the dust of the iraqimolcajeti. i'm so numb, my ears are ringing and now the motherfucker, this bastard, this... comes clean and talks about how he use to drink too much and how his faith has pulled him through and it was only a few lies to get his way and only 4000 dead on our side so far and not to mention the fact the world hates him but jesus loves him cuz he told him so and addiction is bad bad bad and god's on his side and america is god's team and we have to watch over your shoulder america to be sure cause we have to know and lizard skin don't itch trust us even though it's been 7 years. if i was an immigrant i would leave on the next tramp steamer.
not listening to it doesn't make it any less true george. go ahead turn it off. change the channel. it's all hate tv, it's all a distraction from your pious sobriety eh? george. you dumb fuck.

plowshares into laptops

the rest of the story...

Frontline Blogger Covers War in Iraq With a Soldier’s Eyes - New York Times

just the facts

just what this country needs; just another dirty little war and just another 5 cent cigar

Michael Yon Online Magazine

fuck me to tears

...this is just the kind of shit that's leading the decline of civilization and good taste as we know it.

Spears' manager says singer has mental issues Entertainment People Reuters

gauge is stuck on zero

ah winter... another january cold snap set in. temperature just above freezing, dogs in and wife at work. whoa baaeebuh...
quiet day to the extreme. no phones, no neighbors. just a distant freight train to remind me there are others on the planet.
half way through 'war & peace' and countless cups of coffee. chocolate is running low however. maybe next week will i go forth to replenish same. gotta hand it to tolstoy. he sure knows how to describe wealthy tsarist era russian society with all the attendant angst and neurosis. the broken hearts and dreams and teenage sex. the women are beautiful, the men are dashing, everybody speaks french and belongs to the english club. it's a non-stop party and napoleon is just around the corner with his troops ready to take on the russian winter. what's not to like?

incident in the strait

whole thing kinda reminds me of the day they pulled the same stunt in the Tonkin Gulf and went wah wah wah all the way home. Lyndon says let there be no mistake and pow! look where that got us. glad somebody was really awake on that hormuz watch and was having a slow news day. one of those letter home deals that begin with "Guess what I did at work today dear. I almost shot a ski boat that was yelling at me on the radio. But wait, there's more. Captain comes on the bitchbox says stand fast. Don't want some Incident harking back 40 odd years of bad judgment nope. Calls over to the Royal Texaco Princess on an outbound slant and yep they heard it too in fact they hear it all the time Navy just some joker sitting on a hill with a pair of binocs watchin the traffic and steppin on you. relax the GQ already... and boats sez aye soir secure all hands smoking lamp is lit now sweepers sweepers, man yer brooms...
boy what a day. later."

either that or all the mail will be heavily censored like ours was and we will never hear the rest of the story unless paul harvey gets a hold of it or we make it up as we go which ever comes first.

http://www.truthout.org/docs_2006/011208C.shtml

it's just real estate kid

well shit here we are again another new year and i wasn't through with the last one. where's all this time going?
we got a runaway war, dangerous men in office, dangerous men running for office and dangerous people that will vote for them no matter what the fuck i do running dangerously amok. brinksmanship all around. god playing favorites of all things. what i want to know is is when's all this shit gonna stop? i bet it's a good bet sunday school's rules take over cause that's what they want. we are not here to introduce you to democracy, we're here to enforce it. that's the godly american way and god bless america and all ships at sea thank you very much.

i hit this plateau recently and i'm seeing real good, my skin fits and i'm okay with the old days because that's what they are.
i'm grateful i don't have a child in the war. it will never end this madness, this open to endless interpretation and conjecture this war, this stupid war. stealing a generation for downpayment. a government bought and paid for by the powerful and they know who they are fucking us.

but shit, it's a new year, maybe it will hold steady for a few months.

horsi unchained

"thought you might find this interesting if you hadn't seen it already coinul. a sad state of affairs but what are you going to do, re-up?

http://www.truthout.org/docs_2006/121707A.shtml

as an aside, my beef with the horses next door and the pigs that owns them continues and judging from law enforcement's response there's nothing much i can do 'cept stamp my foot and hold my breath. can't squeeze water out of the shower tile as they say whoever they is. the crazy woman aint got a pot to piss in so it's kind of a rock and a hard place kind of a deal. everything points to owner responsibility to fence in horses from the standpoint of the law as presented in the book but enforcing that appears to be the bone d'contendaire de jour as there doesn't seem to be a challenge to the oftsaid "free range county" excuse for not doing anything that resembles work w/o the merit badges for busting a giant meth lab or something to make it worthwhile so nothing gets done until a pickup full of teenagers plow into a 2200 lb pregnant mare on the road in a dark curve on a saturday night and break something. then it's "the owner must have moved officer, haven't heard or seen anything over there for a month" story that makes it to tv after 3 of the kids are taken off life-support and die. i digress...
to me it would be prohibitively expensive to fence that property for stock in the first place and not worth the aggravation in the second place and further more if one don't know what the hell one's doing when it comes to livestock and tries to raise them by proxy then one should be shot for being stupid.
you know, you think, "move to the country and get away from it all", yeah get a little privacy, peace and quiet, the good will towards men routine kicks in and what happens, the stuff i'm trying to hide from follows me out here and squats next door like randy quaid in that silly ass christmas movie.
ooh this just in, the owner wants to meet me at the breaches in the fence so she can fix them. looks like it's going to be fence pliers at 3 paces in the morning.

...to be continued..."

but wait there's more, read on. if you must.

"shellsden@hotmail.com

Spoke to Shelly tonight. She said to call her (before 9 in the evening, email her, go see her this weekend and show her where along your fence line the horses are getting out. She will fix. If you know anybody that wants to buy the horses (the momma and her baby anyway), she is willing to sell them. Don't know the price. This is what she said. Above is her email.

I did tell her again, how upset we all were and about all the damage her horses have caused here and at your place. I also called and left another message for Tommy Cooper today. I will be calling him and leaving messages every single day I see these horses on our property from today forward. I also told Shelly I would have no problem getting him to come out and pick them up if we get them penned up again.

They were eating out of my feeders today and knocked several down and caused even more damage.

Don't know if this will do any good, but I tried. Chris is going to call her again when he gets home."

two more installments from the ongoing horse opera. mine to my lawyer friend and one from my sister n law to me. progress is slow out here and so it goes... uphill both ways in the snow barefoot.

a horse by any other color

i shot a horse in the yard last night. hit that mare so hard the projectile ricocheted into the side of the house thwack! made her colt jump mama mia what was that...
mare did the "omigod somebody shot me" routine and disappeared ass last into the dark. she's a dark horse. she's still out there tonight freezing mad.

this wristrocket is wicked bad.

i'll be waiting...

scopings the drape

meh
i'm so fucking tired of this shit. i like being retired and i don't want to go back to some job. for what? self-gratification? nah. still gonna die with or without. i quit smoking but i'm still gonna die. i quit drinking but i'm still gonna die. i drive safe, got married, eat well and i'm still dying yet. no matter what happens it's always the same. i'm still gonna die.
that's why i aint in no big fucking hurry to get in a big fucking hurry to get to nofuckingwhere faster than i already am because after all... so get off my fucking back about it already and i threw my back out two days ago anyway so fuck off.

but my point was the background noise that has migrated past the threshold of auditory awareness like the ambient sound of dallas on a wet night is now forcing itself into my sleep and disrupting my chi making me grumpy and setting a restlesstude of spirit adrift behind my eyes. i hate it. it's very negative and deliberate in it's force and i can only hope it away for to lean into it would be to invite blooding and troubles around the house which is so unworth it. other solution would be to move further out.

still, reading helps and cormac mccarthy is one of my favorite writers. been getting my mind around delillo for a while now. pynchon, barth, marquez and others. english the way it really works, the way it really is, the way it really paints. i actually bought the latest edition of War & Peace a week ago and there it sits eyeballing me from the shelf like a mad russian. never read it but it's there, waiting for me to tackle this new translation as i find more time to stretch my neurons. thousand+ page tomes don't scare me and i think the translation will be interesting reading.
the weight gain is bumming but with the new togs for the dogs, traversing trail heads is becoming more routine and getting easier. i'm only 20 pounds over since i quit smoking but i aint used to it so i gotta get balanced better. the doctor says eh, could be a lot worse. keep humping the trail.
but if i have to i will go back to work but only if i absolutely have to one way or another i'm going to avoid punching a clock again.

horse latitude (caution)

"hey Jack glad you called. My cell phone is in limbo around the house and it usually just chirps for voice mail but today due to weather and sun spots, it didn't so I got your call late during a brief respite from the aforementioned solar storm. ahem... and sitting logged on corrupts the land line as well. No DSL in the boonies. so solly. Don't bother calling my office phone, I retired. nanny nanny boo boo and it's my birthday phhttttt...After I emailed you I did a little looking around and found some fine print statutes talking about free-range la de da that applies more to the roast fowl and grilled rib-eye of today than the days of ass-busting yore but depending on the precinct (in Texas) and the county commissioners in place, the burden of the property owner to fence in or fence out livestock (in this case horses) is up to the locals and again in this case, is that right?, even the county commissioners and judge I spoke with don't know for sure which it is in this precinct so my options are to get up in front of these yahoos on the 10th and get their attention and possibly pursue a lawsuit against my neighbor for, if nothing else, having the wrong kind of wire strung at the wrong height between inadequate posts in general disrepair and for stomping around and putting 1900 lb. foot prints on my septic field while eating all the grass off it or busting a cap in the head of every horse (8, count 'em, 8) that walks around the corner of the house. The latter doesn't seem much like an option. A thought occurred to me though a lawyer could maybe send one of those "within an inch of your Chapter 11" type letters like willy peter at 300 meters to help things along know what I mean Colonel? I really don't want to go to court with anybody due to the fact I have better things to do but, never say never. I just don't know the details for running this down. Anyway, I'll give you a call. Been a long time Jack and I need a good laugh from the Naval Infantry. I'm just kidding jeez you jarheads are so sensitive. Semper Fi already."

another related document in this ongoing horse opera. my buddy jack and me grew up in the same schools and were always friends in spite of his academic kickass that got him through Annapolis, Harvard Law and a couple dozen years in the Marine Corps.
his irreverence towards his own excellence always impressed me. he called me back and left a message; anytime anywhere anyplace. yep can always count on the Marines.

idiocratical

""I thoroughly disapprove of duels. If a man should challenge me, I would take him kindly and forgivingly by the hand and lead him to a quiet place and kill him." Mark Twain.

well today was one of those days where i set out to wreak maximum chaos and mayhem, inflict extreme prejudice in the execution of frontier justice as i see it and ended up with way more than i could have bought even if i could have afforded it. having gotten to the point of no return in my tolerance of stray horses i headed into lockhart to inquire about suing my idiot neighbor for damages her horses are causing. so i'm sitting there getting info from a clerk about speaking at a commissioner's court next month challenging some obscure law about caldwell county being a "free-range" county and whether my yard and septic field is considered free-range as well when in walks the judge hisself heading back to chambers from the men's room. after brief introductions all around, a 30 second spot pleading my case to the actual judge right there in the front office and giving my phone number to the clerk, the judge says he will speak to the animal control deputy about this free-range nonsense and takes his leave being the old cattleman himself and knowing a fucked up law when he smells one. so i'm standing there and the clerk says way to go and me, i'm out the door to lunch. damn i's good. no point in calling the minions for help, just go straight to the top i always say.now whether anything will happen in the next few weeks remains to be seen but i have rattled around the hall of justice and pulled the string of a judge w/o the benefit of an appointment before his bench or the accompaniment of an armed guard. i walk with angels and bad dogs. do not piss off the wrong guy. some people should learn these things. i am the wrong guy.
as usual."

I wrote the above Thursday afternoon in an email to an old friend after I got home and it sums up my general attitude this year towards irresponsible assholes that fuck with me but Mr. Clemens said it best and so i'll leave it at that.

galloping idiocracy

Well shitfire, I'm back. Been away for a month getting the new roof done and chasing the fucking neighbor's horses around my property and not getting anywhere with the sheriff's department probably going to have to submit everything in writing and hire a lawyer to sue a person who has no money. What are the percentages in that I ask ya. Dammit.
Retirement is agreeing with me but the neighbor is pissing me off and generally making herself very unliked around here not that it makes a bit of difference. Sometimes I just want to throw a burning bag of shit at her house. All of this makes me very tired.
I think I will take a nap...

shiney side up

Hooha day 2 of a re-roofing job on the domicile man this is a good thing. Double-lock standing seam 24 gauge metal roof would float if turned upside down. Front porch roof re-built, rain harvesting system incorporated to keep the plants happy with natural water crew of 3 working hard and fast like they know what they're doing. No rain in the forecast sky clear and @ high 70's manomanomano...

paper or plastic?

...and to think I almost forgot what today is. Why it's the one month anniversary of my retirement...that much ballyhooed event that launched me off the books.

lancing a blister in the dark

It's just simply amazing to me that anybody thinks the way they do. I mean really. "What the fuck?" you may ask and I would tell you in great detail if I knew the answers to that and other burning questions but I don't and I can only speculate and cringe and rage at the Stupids with their little Pinheads. I don't have any idea what it is I'm talking about and I'm trying to keep it that way but one thing is for sure, killing for peace is like fucking for virginity. They are both mutually exclusive and the cost of this adventure we are currently engaged in has already been discussed in far greater circles than the average browser will discuss here and nobody is sacrificing for the effort except the families of the dead now rotting and all they can do is weep so let's keep it that way.
There was no threat. There is no plot to invade America. There was only Katrina and her sister Rita and the boys over in the Corps of Engineers whose funding was cut off because there aint no percentages in the weather and George. Poor inarticulate George. Explosions and their body counts are far more predictable so lets practice elsewhere shall we?
Heat and auditory weapons that could be deployed and end the fighting overnight are kept back because why? Because it puts too much policy out of a job. Warfare is human nature as is profiteering from the vast expanse of destruction.

the old mousefart on a cotton ball trick

... so as i was sayin' yeah yeah i'll get used to this aural trespassing and carry on like i own de' place right, know what i'm sayin? just like livin under the Union Pacific trestle next to I-10 holmz no biggie right? get used to it. but...... i mean i still protest it aint what i signed on for says right here and it's a pisser know what i mean? and it aint asking too much to ask you to please shut the fuck up but what the hell you gonna do about it anyway? i ask ya. it's just a fucking pisser and that's just the way it fucking is anymore. fucking pisser...
shit! whaacher gonna do...

...but living out here immaculate in East Jesus de Cortez By the Bay has it's moments that eventually add up to it's worth all this for all that as long as all that don't kill us and more. but then it wouldn't matter anyway would it seeins how we'd be all dead 'n all so it must be worth it for the moment anyway right? that's all i'm sayin's all.

forest for the tree

So I'm sitting here thinking, man we bought this place, this little 10 acre slice of paradise 21 years ago and blew the doors off the pumpkins, glowed in the dark, laid down the law and broke it and generally hurt our 2 brain cells for years until the public started encroaching and we downsized our appreciation for Nature's Bounty so as not to embarrass ourselves and besides all that, we were getting older and wiser and it was time to slow down anyway and we wanted to not offend anybody. Well, why is it nobody else respects their neighbors and let's their animals and children careen out of control without a thought to the consequences? I am feeling cramped and crowded and aurally trespassed upon and there's nothing I can do about it except move but with all the blood sweat and tears that I poured into this place, I cannot and now I'm trapped in my own device. This wasn't how retirement was supposed to play out.
But in spite of all that...

The Gospel according to Moondog

...perchance to dream a Dream of a Thousand Castles in the Bold Aire, each with a Thousand Windows, opened by unseen hands and illuminating Satan's Wretched Creatures of the Dawn sprawled across the lawn spawned in Pathos and doomed to loathsome bedevilment Begone begone thy foul and wretched excess, thy wanton and vile excrement is upon thine heart, why doth thou torment so?

...make fast thyself to the Wings of Light and cast away thy Earthly bonds, to soar upon the Solar Breeze, breathless and coy...

...we are Prisoners of our own Design, reigning over a desolate landscape of broken Dreams and pitiful Aspirations. We plunder our childhood and awaken at Death's Door wondering of the Child we were and beholding a frail and gaunt form that can no longer see the Innocence and Beauty. It is but a short journey from the forceps to the stone, fraught with Horror and unspeakable Terror. Why then must we be left to such impotent devices floundering like carp?

...ah yes, to slumber and dream the Dream of the Dead. To awaken renewed, at one with the ties that bind as The Heart is to the Hunter, home from the hill home from the sea...

...so verily I say unto thee Grasshopper, so thy may know and see thy Path. Go forth into the Sweet Night and tread softly upon it's still waters. Open thine eyes and thy will see what thy need is all around thee and what thy want thy cannot have. If thy sow Ice, thy shall harvest Wind. Strive to shed thy Morbid Concerns and thy will find thyself Righteous and Wholesome.

Verily...