Nectors

Burlington, VT

This time of year it can be very enjoyable to live where I do. Once the first frost happens the pollen stops being a constant source of annoyance. The weather gets nice, the humidity low, the sky a bright and vaporless blue. And if there are clouds they stand stark and vibrant, aloft and in motion, ever changing.

Russell Brand is talking about how his jokes didn't go over well at an event recently:

here

Well, the day has passed. I've got some stuff I need to get accomplished. I've been working very hard but don't feel like I'm accomplishing anything.

27 Sept, 2013.

more from a newer fiction

He is reading the comments posts. Dude doesn't post any more since it all went 'disquist' blog thought logger service (indenture). The article was how the victim . . . oh my . . . was an admitted crack user. Oh, no! Say it isn't so. And, of course, and it is curious why, when people put out their paranoia about how and why, and engines don't just get 100 feet away from a car, and cars don't just burst into flames on their own . . . but it is just a joke to some people.

It is curious to me the people who are not saying anything about the fact of what happened, the seeming demise that ought to sadden even those who the crash victim thwarted (through his actual performance of journalism). You think that they would show some compassion that he's dead? And, in case they are out of touch, the field of Journalism has always had it's fair share of spoon burning and needle using. Pill popping. snorting lines from a rear view mirror that someone just broke off the windshield. It's a rental, the insurance will cover it. That is what Journalism is and has been for a long time.

So maybe if the press submissives would stop their hating and their accusing: I take a drug using truth teller over a press pig-boy submissive (chained to the steal-cage of falsehood in the sling of lies-constructed to fool a public with low expectation).

what say ye oh milkman-popup sprite?

"I got nothin'."

Americans

with disabilities

Love the WWII Memorial

I won't be spending much time in the home anymore because the person who I know who was living there isn't there anymore. Funeral is Thursday.

One of the things that I had to do for my father's house was to send back all of his FEMA clothes to FEMA. It wasn't anything anyone told us to do, we just figured it was best that this is how the clothes should be recycled. Those things shouldn't be just thrown in the bin for Saint Vincent D'Paul. I recommend doing that for other things.

We found a lot of items for my dad and read through some of them. It's interesting but hard when it is all so fresh.

I wish that when it's at the end that there'd be a mute button for all of the beeping things in the ICU.

My dad worked both in the Navy and in the Air Force reserves. He was very much a product of the GI Bill, and truly blest because he never, as far as we have heard, saw combat.

We lived at the Natick Wellesley line, the house there will be for sale soon. It was an integrated neighborhood back in the 1960s, and My dad was always friendly with everyone. You want to hear about it there are a bunch of people who can tell you about it. One of my friends is releasing a novel where he discusses some of the aspects of the integrated neighborhood. I didn't realize how severe racism was in America as a child because we had all kinds of different people in our neighborhood. And the first bus stop on the way to Boston was Wellesley College, so my life was always full of diversity and I thought that hogemanetity was more the non-normal. Now I understand that 'normal' is a nonsequitor. There is no normal except in Statistics. Every other use of the word is just judgemental language. That langauge may still be useful, people, even when they are judging you, still have valid concerns.

So, ya, my Dad is passed and life goes on. He did a lot, knew a lot of people. He travelled the world, always loved to be coming home.

The dementia started a long time ago. I think I first noticed when I went to see him after he'd been away for 3 months. Some FEMA thing. I was very glad to see him, thought he might have some stories for me, want to tell me what he did, about the floods, or whatever it was.

But he acted like he'd been there all week, like I'd pissed him off, lost his keys, which was one of the things that he used to accuse me of

Of course I never stole his keys. And if I lost them, he had another set. I noted his disinterest in me and realized that he must just be distracted, not really caring to see me, like he didn't like being around me and he was going out to the garage because that was his way of getting away from me.

But it was just maybe 7 years ago, we'd resolved all of those stupid father/son things years ago. We were 'good'. I just walked away, took the hurt, imagined the worst that he really didn't like me that much. Other things he did later confirmed that.

After that he'd flip in and out of that. Sometimes he remembered me as his son who he loved. Other times I was the one who was always 'twarting' him. I don't know where that came from. Usually he was good. But if tired or addled, well, that guy who imagined me as a villian to him would emerge, even as soon ago as last year.

Now his house is mostly empty. The beds are still there, the funeral will be Thursday at Saint Pats. Then we go to the grave, and then a buffet for the family and friends. It was a long 5 days wth him in the ICU, and now he is gone.

strange that I've been able to write about this. I can't really share this with my sisters. But here I am sharing it with the whole world.

My dad was mostly a sweet gentleman. And despite his mean streak against me at times, him thinking I 'twarted his every move', He was a great guy. He was much better with new people than with family. And so he has always had a very lot of friends.

I'm not putting any words in Mr. Lincolns mouth.

I've suggested having beams coming from Lincolns eyes to highlight words, and perhaps to create a dissolve. But I'm sure that I saw that first in the original Godzilla only it was Godzilla and not Mr. Lincoln who had beams coming out of his eyes. If I provided that effect here I just be ripping off a classic. Well, I guess that is what all artists do so what am I waiting for? Oh, ya, I'm more of an engineer than an artist. Why can't someone be both? Why can't some people stop talking about themselves?

  Midnight Wind
    you clear the fowl airs
        of the swampy delta.
  you have shuttered the Moon from the sky
       with those far away clouds.
  What will you do now?
     Furious!
    Rip the roofs off many houses?
     bring low the sea so that the many can pass?
 flood back in to cover over the hateful armies?

   By One AM
       will you be calmed?
    Who is helping you to hold up your hand 
               and keep doing it? 
              Midnight Wind?