Story Time: A Goohuul

If you found our first Halloween offering quite tricky, Dear Reader, this next story is something of a treat. It’s by my good friend, Cade the Okie Devil from Text US, and appears in ‘Underdog Anthology VI: The Gallows Stone’…

pumpkin treat

*Faught you’d perk up for that, Clicky… /flicks ash…*

Dear Reader… Enjoy! ❤

*******

A Goohuul

by Cade F.O.N Apollyon

Yarnip County Texas is likely the strangest county in the entire state. It appears on no maps. It does not appear on nor in any registry. There is no county-seat, as there are no towns. It has no courthouses. No sheriff. No police departments. No fire departments. No hospitals nor clinics. In fact, except for the ice-skating rink in the southeast corner of the county that sometimes doubles as a roller-rink, Yarnip County Texas has no real infrastructure to speak of at all. There are plenty of roads that lead to and through Yarnip County, but not a single crossroads in it’s length and breadth. There is only one permanent resident, and yet, at certain times of the year…Yarnip County Texas has the largest population in the entire Universe.

I know, I know…you are thinking that I’m telling some tall-tale in order to spin some investment opportunity or encourage tourism. But if you take a minute to actually ponder the merits of your own skepticism, why would I even need to encourage tourism to a location that is already, at times, the most populous place in the entire Universe? Yes, I am the guy that actually lives there. But I’ve already got so much money I could never spend it, and I’ve also got so many trinkets and gifts from visitors, that were I to sell them all, I’d pretty much have all the money on the entire planet. Plus, I don’t sell any of the gifts that are given me, nor do I sell any of the trinkets that I find. And believe you me, with all the traffic we get here, there is plenty of stuff left behind.

So you are likely wondering if I am a junk collector who is trying to sell off his collection. No. I’m the owner/operator of an ice-skating rink that sometimes doubles as a roller-rink. Junk collecting is more of a hobby that doubles as my attempt at being a responsible citizen due to the amount of flotsam and jetsam that this county accumulates during the course of the year.

Let me give you an example of what I am talking about. If someone passes through on a weekend trip, and accidentally leaves their Blarrchuck Moopeen Grinder, or a pair of Mastelline Vipps? They are going to come looking for it/them. I once found the entire Senate Building for The Realm of Cipotci, but I wasn’t aware of it at the time. I took it home, put it on my dresser, and even contemplated cutting a hole in the top to use as a change bank, although I never did. Good thing that I didn’t, because the Ipo of Cipotsi herself came looking for the building, and it turns out that the entire Senate was actually still inside the building and in-session. Just a misunderstanding that quasi-cascaded into a comedy of errors because of some chance encounters. The Ipo was very gracious though in the end, and she’s now aware of both me and the fact that I lurk and roam these parts with mostly the best of intentions. That said, the particulars about how the Senate Building from The Realm of Cipotsi wound up in Yarnip County Texas is a story for another time.

You’ve likely guessed by now that I am the founder of Yarnip County Texas. Well, technically, you’d be wrong. I only gave it the name. Yarnip County Texas is actually as old as The Universe itself, and I’m just a newcomer that just so happened to be paying attention at just the wrong time, in exactly the wrong place. But those unfortunate events inspired me to eventually give my home a name, Yarnip County. I even gave it a slogan; “Always Passin’ Thru!” But I’m not really here to talk about that, nor even about myself, as much as I am to talk about one particular event that happened about ten years ago. It’s something that is on my mind daily, and I try diligently to neither suppress nor recall that and those events. For the most part, I just sorta try and let the memories be what they are, and go on about my life as best I can.

She introduced herself as Abbey Attrix. I was pretty sure from the start that this was not her “real” name, but it didn’t really matter to me one way or the other. She told me that she had some friends that were meeting her here in a few hours, and wanted to know if she could rent the rink and skate alone until they arrived. I asked her for how long, she glanced at what I assumed was her watch, and told me that she could pay me $50 and would also let me have her watch if I would let her have the rink for two hours. She held up her arm, and around her wrist was one of the most unusual watches I’d ever seen. It had only one hand, a minute hand, and two digital readouts; one for the hours, and one for the seconds. It had a deep red face that seemed to be surrounded by some kind of internal light source that was a combination of blue and red that cycled somehow…it appeared very expensive.

Let me state that it’s not unusual to have individuals show up alone and want to rent the rink for themselves, nor do I personally think that it’s particularly strange when someone wants to rent the rink alone. Afterall, I built the rink for myself so that I could be alone and skate alone, so it’s really no surprise to me that others also seek solitude on the ice. However, when I looked into her face and into her eyes, I perceived there was a distance between us that I could never plumb. I could make all of the observations and conjectures that I wanted, but time itself seemed to be slipping away before me, and I could tell by her occasional glances out toward the rink that she just wanted to get onto the ice. She’d been running from something, but that running was about to cease.

I told her that she could keep her watch, and that $40 would do for two hours as I had nothing scheduled and was unlikely to have any chance renters pop in other than herself. She agreed, retrieved two twenty dollar bills from her bag which she then handed to me, and I asked her what size skate she wore. She told me her size, I went and retrieved a pair of ice skates in her size, returned and gave them to her, then I retreated to the DJ booth to put on some music. By the time I had arrived at the DJ booth, she had already put on her skates and was headed for the ice. I grabbed the microphone and asked her if she had any preferences, but she just smiled and shook her head no, leaving the musical selections up to me. Her hair was very short, and until she smiled at me, I hadn’t noticed just how beautiful she was. I’m a professional afterall; I’m here to operate an ice-skating rink, not pick up chicks.

Abbey had already began to skate a bit, and I could already tell that she knew how to skate as I pressed play on the CD player…

“The whispers, in the moment…of lovers sleeping tight…”

No sooner had Celine Dion finished breathing the first line of The Power Of Love, that I looked out to the ice, and saw Abbey slide to a ice crystal spraying stop, put her hands on her hips and look down her nose at me in mock-contempt as she smiled. I couldn’t help but smile back and laugh a little as she stood there, smiling and tapping the toe of her ice skate the way a mother might. I immediately hit the stop button on the CD player, glanced up and noticed that she was still tapping her foot as I rummaged quickly through the CD’s to find a different song. I admit that I noticed that the Jennifer Rush version of this same song was handy, and I contemplated putting it in the CD player as an attempt at being funny, but this was Abbey’s time. She paid for it, so I decided to hit her with a musical blindside instead, put in a new CD, and pressed play.

“As loud as hell, a ringing bell

Behind my smile, it shakes my teeth

And all the while, as vampires feed

I bleed

I bleed

I bleed

Abbey had started skating again, and I could see her doing the “head-bob” in an approving manner before Black Francis and Kim Deal of The Pixies even began to sing. And that’s how our relationship went on that cold and lonely October evening. Two hours of back and forth without a word between us. She’d slouch her shoulders while rolling her head back in disgust if I played something she didn’t like, and she’d smile, bob her head, and keep skating if I played something that she did. I must admit that I was quite surprised at the varieties of music that she did and didn’t like, and a few times she even gave me a look of surprise that an old fart like myself would know that the song I was playing even existed.

“I’m bigger than that.

Can you tango, can you mango,

mix n mangle, can you flow?

Let me angle more my kangol,

Are you single, can you go?

I’m bigger than that.

Format B’s remix of Skeleton Key by Pleasurecraft & Green Velvet boomed on the speakers as Abbey continued to zoom around the rink while grinning a smile that couldn’t be purchased for any amount of money, and I’d been enjoying the time so much myself that I simply hadn’t noticed that we had already run about fifteen minutes over time…but that’s when the power to the rink went out.

I immediately reached for the small flashlight next to the DJ mixer, and yelled to Abbey to stay where she was until I could get some light, but the flashlight didn’t work. I found this extremely odd since I knew for a fact that the batteries had been changed only recently. The music had been so loud for so long, that I simply had not noticed that the wind had picked up as the sun had gone down. But as my hearing slowly returned, it became quickly attuned to the fact that the wind was indeed blowing quite viciously outside, and assumed that the wind was likely the cause for the power outage.

Probably less than a minute had transpired when my eyes adjusted enough to notice that the watch Abbey had tried to barter with was still glowing around her wrist, and as I looked around and surveyed the rest of the rink, I noticed that this was the only source of light in the rink. None of the emergency exit signs were working, which was odd considering that they were battery powered in a power outage, but even more strange was the fact that not even the luminous paint on the walls was glowing. If ever a person who loved Halloween wanted to be somewhere extra-spooky on Halloween night, Yarnip County Texas was suddenly the place to be.

I recall trying to keep my cool since I was the owner/operator of this place, and ultimately responsible for the safety and well being of my one and only paying patron, and luckily Abbey had worked her way over to the DJ booth by the time that I started getting a shade rattled. Without saying a word, she took the watch off of her wrist and laid it on the table next to me since it appeared that she had also noticed that her watch was the only source of light in the entire place. From the cycling purple-ish glow of the red and blue lights in the watch, I could barely make out the outline of her face and noticed that she was smiling. A large closed-mouth grin that made her eyes sparkle somewhat, but there was what seemed to be a hint of sadness in her eyes. To tell the truth, I don’t know if it was sadness or joy or what it was that I saw in there. After a moment of looking at each other, and just prior to me realizing that my gawping was about to become uncomfortable, she said “My friends are here.”

That’s when all hell broke loose.

The entire building and everything in it moved as if it had just had the ground removed beneath it, and I felt that sudden quasi-sickening feeling in my stomach as if someone or something that was only previously holding me up had suddenly dropped me or given way. I knew it wasn’t just and only me, as the entire building shook as it came crashing down shortly after starting to fall. Judging by the way that my knees buckled, it felt as though the entirety of the building had just dropped about one foot, and it’s unlikely that there was a single object in the entire building that didn’t make some kind of noise. My immediate concern was for Abbey who was standing on the ice in skates in front of the DJ booth. But as metal and glass found their new equilibrium amid much clanging, shattering and crashing, I noticed that I could no longer see her face and assumed that she had fallen in the chaos.

The glow of the watch provided me with my only bearings, and I quickly grabbed it and held it out over the ice from the DJ booth’s lofty position…no Abbey. My heart, weakened in its pulse somewhat from the fear, pounded a first ‘BOOM!’ of approval as my being shifted from the fear of cower to the cape of crusader. I knew it was foolhardy, but I sprang over the counter of the DJ booth onto the ice of the rink without hesitation, and luckily my somewhat aged ankles held as my feet found their footing on the ice of the rink. The soles of my shoes had hardly touched the ice when the power came back on, and it scared the living shit out of me. Deamau5 immediately began blaring on the sound system since I had just put a new song on prior to the power going out, and I quickly looked around and surveyed everywhere, but Abbey was nowhere to be seen. I yelled her name as loud as I could…no response. I reached up and around to hit stop on the CD player, but the song kept playing. In frustration, I reached for the volume sliders, but when I moved them down, no change. I admit that a flush of rage came over me as I looked around at the damage of the place, and contemplated ripping the power cables out of the wall for the whole fucking mess, but then something grabbed me…

“Feeling the past moving in

Letting a new day begin

Hold to the time that you know

You don’t have to move on to let go

Add to the memory you keep

Remember when you fall asleep

Hold to the love that you know

You don’t have to give up to let go

Remember turning on the night

And moving through the morning light

Remember how it was with you

Remember how you pulled me through

I remember

I remember

I remember

I remember

I remember

I remember

I remember

I remember

I noticed that I was still holding the watch, and still standing in the same place that I had landed on the ice, looking around in disbelief listening to a song by deadmau5 & Kaskade blaring on the PA, when it occurred to me that I was a complete moron for jumping onto the ice because I could have landed on top of Abbey had she fallen.

The ice. The ice is unbroken. I looked at my feet in disbelief, then looked around the ice itself…no fractures, no bulges, no shards…no lines? Impossible. I was wearing my Converse All-Stars, but wandered shakily out further onto the ice anyway, and as I surveyed the ice itself there was not a single line to be found. The song suddenly ended and I instinctively looked back towards the DJ booth, and on the railing to the left of the DJ booth hung a pair of ice skates with the laces tied together, and they were swaying ever so slightly as if someone had only just hung them there. I watched them for a moment to be sure that my eyes were not playing tricks on me, and sure enough, they stopped swaying after a moment. I kept watching them for a while longer just to see if they started moving again. The wind was blowing furiously outside afterall, and this building was already drafty even before some Titan decided to throw it off a cliff a few moments ago. The skates didn’t move.

I kept feeling as though I should be scared, but I never really recall being afraid after the lights came back on. I’m not sure exactly what I felt at this point. My entire life has been filled with weird and strange experiences, but I am neither witch nor wizard, alchemist nor mage. If I had to qualify my feelings at that point, it was simply “keep going”…don’t stop. And so, that’s exactly what I did. I had to know. Still clutching the watch, I proceeded off the ice, and straight to the breaker box for the power. When I got there, and without hesitation, I pulled the main breaker lever, and the entire rink was suddenly aglow via the artwork within the rink that had been painted in phosphorescent paint. I flipped the main breaker back on, the lights came back on, and headed out the front door into the parking lot.

Nothing. No cars except my own. Just prior to turning around and going back into the building, I noticed that the front-end of the car was sitting at an odd angle. I walked a little closer and craned my neck to look around the car, and sure enough, the left-front tire was flat. To be honest, it didn’t even phase me because I was already home and had luckily already stocked up on beer and food for the evening as I was planning to grill a steak out in the cold after the sun went down.

It’s likely that at this point, you have many questions. You’ve identified holes, you’ve thought about what you would have done or would have done differently, and maybe even what I should have done. You aren’t wrong in doing so, and I can assure you that I’ve questioned myself relentlessly since then. But I can only tell the story as it happened. I cannot go back and make everything right, nor can I write some instruction manual so that I’ll be better prepared next time this happens. A woman calling herself Abbey Attrix wandered in to my skating rink in Yarnip County Texas on October 31st of 2008, some pretty weird shit happened over the course of about one minute, she vanished from my rink and my life completely, I’ve no idea what happened to her, nor have I seen her since. The last thing that she said to me was “my friends are here”, but I never saw anyone other than her, and I could only just barely see her when she said that. No one has ever appeared looking for her, she has never returned, and I still have her wristwatch.

“Well I live with snakes and lizards

And other things that go bump in the night

‘Cause to me everyday is Halloween

I have given up hiding and started to fight

I have started to fight.

Well any time, any place, anywhere that I go

All the people seem to stop and stare

They say “why are you dressed like it’s Halloween?

You look so absurd, you look so obscene”

Oh, why can’t I live a life for me?

Why should I take the abuse that’s served?

Why can’t they see they’re just like me

It’s the same, it’s the same in the whole wide world.”

– Ministry, Every Day Is Halloween

So if you again are thinking that I’m telling some fantastic tale in order to drum up interest in Yarnip County Texas and/or my skating rink? Well, you are free to think what you want. Just know that my skating rink is only closed one day out of the year…Halloween. Oh, and good luck finding Yarnip County Texas or my rink the other 364/365 days of the year.

😉

*******

p king x mass

*Yeah! I love his ‘Christmas Ever’ tale …/final drag… I ‘ope he’s written some some stories in the next Anthology, Clicky… /stubs butt…*

😀 Happy Halloween, Dear Reader, and… Have a Song ❤

Rosa Sub Rosa

The Latin phrase sub rosa means “under the rose”, and is used in English to denote secrecy or confidentiality, similar to the Chatham House Rule. The rose as a symbol of secrecy has an ancient history.

sick of the sign

*Oh I quite agree, Clicky… /lights up… It wasn’t that bad… /drags… *

*/plumes smoke… Blimey! A kids’ show finking of the children? Well I never… /feigns surprise… *

Roob and Cade discuss wall art 1

Motel Photel

*Good idea, Clicky… /pats snout… Now Dear Reader has a clearer picture, so to speak…*

Roob and Cade discuss wall art 2

Motel Photel 2

Roob and Cade discuss wall art 3

Motel colour scheme

Roob and Cade discuss wall art 4Roob and Cade discuss wall art 5

*/taps ash… Fuckin’ ‘ell, Clicky! …/drags… Stanley Kubrick married Ruth Sobotka on mum’s 10th birthday… /puffs contentedly…*

Roob and Cade discuss wall art 6Roob and Cade discuss wall art 7Roob and Cade discuss wall art 8Roob and Cade discuss wall art 9Roob and Cade discuss wall art 10Roob and Cade discuss wall art 11Roob and Cade discuss wall art 12

*/final drag… I’m tellin’ ya, Click, what happened next was fuckin’ weird…*

Roob and Cade discuss wall art 13Roob and Cade discuss wall art 14

*/stubs butt… You know what Marilu Henner is also famous for, Clicky?*

*Oh you do gnos… /squints… Smart arse. Get a Song…*

Friends’ Adventure in Remote Viewing…

Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy Sign Outside The House of Witchcraft

*You wanna start with Cade’s screenshot, Clicky? …/lights up… Okay…*

Dear Reader, the above screenshot is provided by The Okie Devil of Text US. It’s from the first of three espionage movies we remotely viewed together yesterday. I chose the first movie: ‘Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy’ as I’d seen it with my sister Juju way back when it came out. This was in the days before I’d even heard about synchronicity, let alone synchromysticism. I didn’t remember much about the movie except that it was an enjoyable ensemble piece that might appeal to my friend Cade…

Cade and Roob Remote Viewing 2Cade and Roob Remote Viewing 3

*/drags… I read it at The Slog, just before we watched the movie, Clicky… /blows… ‘Democrats, Looking Ahead to 2020, See a Future That Is Female’… /puffs… Is that like 2020 vision?*

*Ha! Excellent Ted Talk, Clicky… /squints… Okay, I see your crow and raise ya… /smiles sweetly…*

The second movie that we watched, ‘Body of Lies’, had already been selected by Cade…

Cade and Roob Remote Viewing 4

This film centered around two characters, ostensibly on the same side, working together remotely. I spotted a couple of connections to the first movie…

Cade and Roob Remote Viewing 5

*/flicks ash… Simon ‘Montagu’ McBurney?*

*/Drags… Shakes Sphere gets fuckin’ everywhere… /winks… DiCAPrio played a Montague not a CAPulet… /streams smoke…*

Our third movie for remote viewing yesterday was suggested by me but chosen by Cade, Dear Reader. One based on the true story of a mathematical genius who was viewed by the people around him as to being somewhat remote. Plus it starred Benedict Cumberbatch, who’d been part of the ‘Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy’ ensemble…

*/final drag… Facially, Benny-boy is a dead ringer for dad, Clicky…*

Cade and Roob Remote Viewing 6Cade and Roob Remote Viewing 7Cade and Roob Remote Viewing 8Cade and Roob Remote Viewing 9

*/plumes smokes… Would that be Jakob Grimm of The Brothers Grimm, Clicky? …/stubs butt… Heh!*

In the end we didn’t manage to see the fourth film, ‘The Manchurian Candidate’, as it was time for me to sleep…

*/rolls eyes…*

There’s a new Doctor Who episode tonight, so I hope to be back with a post or two about it later this week. Sew… until then, Dear Reader… Have a Song 😀

 

Missive From ‘Merica: In The End…

Here we are then, Dear Reader, on the fifth and final stretch of Cade’s bloody, messy missive…

my favourite

*What, just this post or the whole missive, Clicky?*

chicken

*Ha! Yeah, cooked Apollyon-style…*

always sufficient flamethrower

… And if you’ve not had a chance to read parts one, two, three or four yet, may we suggest you go have a look at them before attempting number five…

unbelievable

*I don’t know, Clicky, sum people like to start at the end…*

smoke gnos

*******

Today is now Monday the 17th of September 2018, and as soon as I woke this morning, I started thinking about how to create an atom of Gold (Au) using only three particles – one Proton, one Neutron, and one Electron.

So what I immediately starting thinking about was speed, which got me to thinking about light traveling as both wave and particle, I got to thinking about Neutrinos/Tachyons, The Particle Zoo, double-slit, gold-leaf, then started bouncing around through time a little bit to see if I could make 79 protons, 79 electrons and 118 neutrons and single atom using only 1 electron/proton/neutron.

I could.

I started thinking about the classic depictions of atoms, some of the newer models including some of the tinkering done with computing and text and the like, then added t(pfp)* to think about where and when a particle would need to be in order to appear to be in anywhere from 79 to 118 places at the same time, PLUS, all of the places that particle DIDN’T need to be in order to be where it needed to be.

In order to do THAT, I had to think about what creates mass in the first place, and I initially came up with (s*s) = m. Using the (Tachyon¹+Neutrino²(1))³ model, where two instances of the same particle are simultaneously moving at opposite/opposing speeds in the same place at the same time AND/OR at different places at different times, I got to thinking about The Big Bang, and how it may not have been the “explosion” that we think it was.

*t(pfp) = time¹ * ((past + future + present) = times) = time.

t¹ * t ³ = Tⁿ or (T∞)

  All times are infinite.

All angles are infinite.

  All speeds are infinite.

All distances are infinite, including the infinitely finite.

Observer, context, time = ∞ = -1 + 0 + 1 = ∞

Just making some mental notes 🙂
^George Benson: Give Me the Night (Official Video Remastered) HQ^

Anyway, I got to thinking about the dynamics that make it possible for matter to have mass, which got me to thinking about the dynamics that make it possible for matter to have no mass, and I wound up at a point that was ridiculously small, which was creating something ridiculously large, and I was bouncing back and forth in the space between. That got me to thinking about…energy.

Energy in the form of sound and light.
^Devo-Jerkin’ Back ‘n’ Forth (Highest Quality-Correct Speed)^

Stirring the pot…WWeeeeOOOOh…hOOOOeeeeeWW…top eht gnirritS

Meh, I’m gonna go work on some animated gifs to put all this shit in motion like I see it in my head, then I’ll post it on my own fucking blog instead of wearing poor Roob out.

😉 ❤

SAY!!! Did you know it’s been 33+ years since “We Are The World”?

Welp, now you know.

Just keep in mind, that if you were young when that song was recorded? Anyone born around the time that song was recorded is likely older now, than you were then. Even if you weren’t considered “young” then, you were certainly younger then, than now.

Just sayin'.
^USA for Africa – We are the World^

cYa | cFa

^Saint Behind The Glass – Los Lobos^

*******

perfect

*Um, not quite, Clicky…*

 

missive ending

*Well, you heard what he said, Clicky. Picture…*

weddings one floor down

Have a Song, Dear Reader… ❤

 

Missive From ‘Merica: Pen Ultimate…

pen

*Hmm, that’s more of a pencil than a pen, Clicky…*

aziz light mark

Continuing on from Part 3 of Cade’s latest missive, Dear Reader, we arrive at the penultimate post, and first glimpse of SoPi-L. Wait for it…

*******

This is heavy.

Overview – Heavy periods – NHS – UK

So what’s all this business about heavy blood and/or gravity, mass and motion affecting menstrual cycles? Welp, it’s been over two weeks since I wrote on this piece of shit, so let’s do some numbers, and let’s assume that there are 2,000,000,000 women on the planet who are capable of menstruation.

80ml x 2,000,000,000 = 160,000,000,000ml

160,000,000,000ml = 160,000,000 liters

160,000,000 liters = 42,267,528.3773 US Gallons

Now, it’s only been two weeks, so let’s us cut those numbers in half.

(no pun intended)

80,000,000 liters = 21,133,764.18865 US Gallons

21+ million gallons/80 million liters of blood has flowed from the no-no areas of women worldwide since I started pondering some thoughts about menstruation two weeks ago. I wonder what someone would be willing to pay for a source that produced those kinds of numbers every two weeks?

Am I grandstanding? Bullshit numbers to reinforce bullshit concepts? Or am I tossing around rough figures in order to better understand scope. I mean really, who sits around calculating the amount of menstrual blood being shed. In fact, who sits around and calculates any type(s) of blood being shed, irrespective of why/how?

Catch my drift?

I just calculated digit by digit, and there are 473.176473 milliliters in a pint.

Don't believe me?

Go to Google, search for “473.176473” without the quotes, then look at the first result. Some numbers are contextually unique.

Fine-Structure Constant

I forget, therefore I…I…I…um, I am sometimes forgetful.

I think, therefore I am capable of incapability.

I think I am anyway.

Maybe you are a better judge of that kind of thing.

/me shrugs
^Penguin Cafe Orchestra – Perpetuum Mobile^

Let’s bring it home.

How much does human blood weigh?

1.04 grams per cc.

80,000,000 liters = 80,000,000,000 cc’s

80,000,000,000 cc’s x 1.04 grams = 83,200,000,000 grams

83,200,000,000 grams = 83,200,000kg

83,200,000kg = 183,424,602.14 pounds

Can you imagine what a tick that weighed 183,424,602.14 pounds would look like? Or a leech? A parasite that large would need a host like Godzilla to feed off of. You’d need a fucking herd of Godzillas. King Kong would be nothing more than a snack. Sorry, just brainstorming for context.

^Patrick Street – Music for a Found Harmonium^

I almost regret my not having any regrets…

Almost.
^Bubbles – Bidibodi Bidibu [HQ]^
The Mad A Gas Star Effect.

Sunspot Solar Observatory will re-open this week

I mean, Madagascar Effect.

Pro-Tip: When doing any texting of any kind, if you always try and pretend that you are having a very difficult and/or uncomfortable conversation with someone that you really REALLY like and want to talk to, you aren’t as likely to get butt-hurt when you read something wrong, or there’s some other communication snafu/misunderstanding. This can have the added benefit of making any of the intentionally ugly stuff stand out like a sore thumb.

^Erik Satie – Once Upon A Time In Paris^

Has this thing gotten too long to introduce SoPi-L?

Welp, too fuckin' bad.


Meet SoPi-L

*******

saved

*’old your ‘orses, Clicky, we ain’t got to the end yet…*

fire fuelled

SoPi-L is explored in more depth, Dear Reader, in the fifth and final missive part, which can be seen HEAR… and have a Song 😉

 

Missive From ‘Merica: Middle Block…

middle block

*Eww gross, Clicky. You know sumtimes…*

Hot on the heels of Part 2, the third and middle part of Cade’s massive, messy missive is ready for your attention now, Dear Reader. Enjoy!

*******

I watched a movie called “The 33” today. I didn’t like it. I think I was expecting to meet them, get to know both them and those involved in the event(s) a bit, and maybe even learn a little about the events themselves. That didn’t happen.

^My Blue Heaven ….Esquivel^

Prophet       Nomad       Hero       Artist

This is a concept that someone I know talks about now and then. Something to do with turning. I understand the concept, and may even understand some of the concepts, but what I have trouble with is the overlap and the missing bits. But a premise in a Doctor Who episode that we watched recently kinda touched on a concept regarding resonance(s) and timbre(s) within DNA/genetics that smacked of destiny and predestination. Meaning, there was an attachment made at some point, this attachment was at the genetic level, and any offspring will carry the resonance of that attachment, which in turn leaves markers/tunnels/channels for a third-party to exploit for their own purposes as these genes are passed from generation to generation.

Q: Ever heard of hydrogen peroxide?

A: !!!

I guess there is all kinds of craziness that can produce an orphan.

^Little Joe & The Latinaires ♫ La LLorona Loca^

So here’s what I did with the aforementioned concept in order to better illustrate my thinking on the subject(s) of overlaps and omissions…

prior ->

Prophet Nomad Hero Artist

Nomad Hero Artist Prophet

Hero Artist Prophet Nomad

Artist Prophet Nomad Hero

Prophet Nomad Hero Artist

post <-

I’m not necessarily thinking about “people who don’t make the cut” or survival of the fittest. I’m thinking more of what we chalk up as chance. I’m thinking more multi-threading and multi-capable, and I’m also thinking about properties that have similarities and/or multifariousness that must exist to create a singularity.

EX1: I would imagine that a Nomad is likely to need to possess many of the same attributes as a Hero. They simply arrive at adversity in different ways, and handle adversity using different methods.

EX2: An artist would likely need to possess attributes of both a Hero AND a Nomad. Artistry of any kind tends to require both solitude and daring.

With that in mind, what ultimately makes us who we are?

I dunno either.

I guess it largely depends on who you are trying to impress.

^Papas -Mr. Loco (Nacho Libre Soundtrack)^

So what if all the Prophets for a given generation, die? Someone is going to have to pick up that slack. Nomads might be a good first choice since Nomads and Prophets seem to have a mutual need for solitude.

But hang on a second…what is a Prophet anyway? And for that matter, what in the fuck is a Nomad? Is what a Nomad was then, the same as what a Nomad is now? I mean fuck, there’s a biker gang here in the US called The Nomads. Are they somehow more Nomadic than other biker gangs just because they’ve got a clever name? Are biker gangs more Nomadic now than they were then, or less?

Does that matter?

Biker gangs aside, how far does one have to wander in order to be considered qualified for the title of Nomad? Who makes that determination, and when? Why are they qualified to make such a determination? Tough answers, require tough questions.

^The Cinematic Orchestra – Arrival of The Birds & Transformation^

I don’t get this at all. Did the teacher learn a lesson and his students paid the price?

^UCF Professor Richard Quinn accuses class of cheating [Original]^
I don't get this either.
^Most Outrageous Government Board Meeting EVER!!!^
But then...
^Carpentersville President Sarto yells and walks off job^

In these four episodes of Doctor Who that we watched, there were a lot of concepts addressed somewhat, and these concepts were themed throughout the episodes. Meaning, they were paid at least a moderate amount of attention during the episodes…all except one…randomness. Keep in mind that I’ve never watched Doctor Who before, and this was the first time that I’d seen these episodes.

Randomness was mentioned briefly in one of the four episodes, then dismissed. As far as I can recall, it was never addressed again, and I watched rather intently for it to reappear…

it did not.

It was as if the entire cast of players were looking for a playbook to follow step-by-step, found one, then decided that explosives and firearms was the way to solve all of their problems. Um…if you find some ancient book, what’s the likelihood of the authors having access to explosives of any kind at the time of writing? What is our connection to ancient peoples at all? Do we even have any?

^Bubble gum-Mr. LoCo^

This is a problem with time-travel. You are going to have to get rid of any notions you have about privacy, which means you are going to have to dump any notions you have about pride, freedom, choice, truth, dishonesty, deception and a host of other ego-pumping concepts. A time traveler who has free range backwards, forwards and to, can find out anything and everything they want to know about you. They have all the time in the Universe to see where you started, where you ended up, and everything that happened between.

Q: What if the time-traveler is not immortal?

A: How can you prove someone is immortal?
AA: There is no way.
AAA: Immortality appears to be a walk that simultaneously has the properties of never having started, and also never stops.

Loopholes to immortality aside, how can you knowingly be dishonest to someone who already knows the truth? Welp, best I can figure, is stay the fuck away from truth, and just be yourself. Remember, we are talking about more than one perspective here, and fact is not truth. You can study the shit out of someone’s CV, fact check and verify the shit out of it, but that is no indicator as to the relationship that you will have with this person. This is a new relationship afterall, and this pairing is a new dynamic that has never existed before.

1 + 1 = 1
^MR. LOCO – MISTER LOCO.wmv^

Is it obvious that I recently watched Nacho Libre?

^John Cameron – Half Forgotten Daydreams (1974)^

*******

zorg knows

*Well yeah, butt you were there whilst we watched Nacho Libra, Clicky, remember?*

nacho libre high five

No time to stop now, Dear Reader, Part 4 – including the first appearance of SoPi-L – can be seen HEAR… And have a Song 😉

 

Missive From ‘Merica: After the Start…

Ruby smoke

*I know. Interesting stuff, Clicky…*

Dear Reader, if you’ve read the first part of Cade’s massive missive, then wait no longer to dive into the next enthralling bit…

*******

mnchc60

Today is Sunday September 16 of 2018, and I’ve been sitting on this post since Thursday August 30 of 2018.

Ya rly.

I started with that shit about blood and twisting lines, and I’ve been pondering the mechanics of the micro and particulate as it pertains to a woman’s menstrual cycle for over two weeks now.

You think it unusual that a man would spend weeks considering a woman’s menstrual cycle? About how ergonomics and nutrition and lifestyle and the like affect a woman’s naughty bits with respect to time and gravity and motion and all kinds of other crazy factors?

Over the course of a lifetime, I wonder how much cotton and other fibrous material accumulates in a woman’s body, and how that individual woman’s body acclimates and/or handles this…stuff.

Filler(s)? Additives? Preservatives?

Sound crazy? Welp, if you put enough magnetic interference around a compass, eventually, the compass is going to have difficulty with finding its way and/or doing what it is designed to do.

EX: From a global perspective, do you think that people living in the northern hemisphere eating watermelon in January is unusual?

I think the circadian clock(s) are based on, and guided by, more than just/only a 24 hour cycle. I mean, how in the fuck did it get to 24 in the first place? What keeps it there? I’ve this sneaking suspicion that dark matter/energy plays a role.

^POGO – Jaaam^

It would appear that a “beedi” is a thin cigarette.

Beedi

What other types of things can you think of that are thin, need to be thin, and it’s a good thing that they are thin?

Girl Scout Cookies-Thin Mints
Wheat Thins
Surface Tension
Boundary
Vaginal Wet Mount
Death of Gloria Ramirez
Shut Down Everything
Slime Layer
Slayer
Slime layer...Slayer...get it?

Baby, if you wanna mince words, you came to the right place. I’m a Juice Tiger™ that eats Weekly World News® newspapers and spoos out gallons of juicy linguistic goodness like it ain’t no thang.

(nod to SIMAAM)
^Religious Man ( I am I am )^

Quick thought…

Q: How does one get money out of The UN?

A: In UN Dough

Sorry for the lame pun/bad joke, but the UN Secretary General appeared on my radar yesterday, and I can’t help but wonder if this Brexit nonsense is more of a battle between The EU and The UN, and which side The UK is going to wind up on. Of course, there’s also the NATO angle(s), which is muddied somewhat by the Trump/Putin connection(s)…assuming there are any. But those will be severed when Trump goes to prison with Clinton.

^Smoke Fairies – Living With Ghosts^
tumblr_oraeeyclwd1rhhef8o2_540What is our preferred method of disposal?

Yeah dummy…for garbage, what is the preferred method of disposal for garbage?

A: Fire/Burning

In our conversations, RooBeeDoo mentions the spine quite a bit. Well, maybe not “quite a bit”, but she mentions it frequently enough that I notice. That said, she never elaborates, and any links that she provides tend to be vague, distant and/or unrelated to whatever we are discussing. Anyone who has spent any time around, erm, weirdos, will know that the number 33 has some cosmic/divine connotations and/or associations, and there are rumored to be 33 vertebrae in the human spine.

Let’s back up tho. When you fart, where does that gas come from? I think medicine will tell us that there are bacteria in our gut that eat what we eat, then make their own poop and farts that in turn become our poop and farts. But don’t we breathe? Doesn’t our skin breathe? Doesn’t our blood contain gas(es)? What does our body do with things that it just flat don’t know what to do with? Is it possible that our body might try to…burn it? More than that, do our bodies potentially possess the ability to do any such thing?

Spontaneous Combustion
Spontaneous Human Combustion
Autoignition Temperature
Roy Sullivan
Trouble just seems to follow some people.
^Greenskeepers – Money^

Let’s go for a record. I’ll explain later.

^La Llorona loca – Los Gliders.wmv^

Why are there all these calls and/or efforts to send everyone to prison? I see shitloads of tweets calling for the immediate arrest and imprisonment of all kinds of people, but especially public figures. Surely there has to be more options than just/only prison. Have you fucks not heard of riots? Lynchings? Mob justice? Vigilantism? Mass murder? Anarchy? Hitmen/assassins/murder for hire? Ritual killings? Surely there aren’t efforts to pollute “legitimacy” with unsound methods and actions…

are there?

That said, there sure seems to be a lot of fuckery via government(s), which means it originates via commerce.

General Data Protection Regulation

Ping->Pong

What is going on pre-ping?

What is going on post-pong?

^Eisenfunk – Pong^

Why am I asking so many fucking questions?

^Caetano Veloso (1969)- Irene^

HEY!!! I’ve been wondering how to do this. Now I know.

^How to Install Cyberlox^

3xz5

Truth is we plebeians live under the thumb of delay, detainment and arrest…

all day, every day.

Get pulled over for any reason, and catch the wrong cop on the wrong day, and you could wind up on the business end of a taser for anything from drugs, to suspected terrorism, to pissing off some random stranger, to simply having your own bad day on the wrong fucking day. I mean, who in the FUCK is having a good day when you get pulled over, have some conflict, or are otherwise detained for some odd reason.

Like say...having long hair.

Has government forgotten customer service? Or is that “protect and serve” bullshit just a hyped up myth designed to protect a racket. If so, “the racket” is going to be…advancement, job security, and accolade. Afterall, the cream, rises. Curds are for turds, buttermilk is for babies, and plain milk is for pussies.

I have no idea what any of that means either.

Seems like it’s easier, and safer to just…stay indoors. Protect yourself…at all times…like a boxer might.

^Mucha Muchacha by Esquivel^

*******

pulp fiction butch boxer

*/furrows brow… Is that from the same movie, Clicky?*

meat popsicle

Make yourself a cuppa tea and get ready to read the next part, Dear Reader, by clicking HEAR… And have a Song 😉