Someday Girl

someday (adv.)

“at some indefinite date in the future,” 1768, from some + day.

MISS SOMEDAY.

Poor Charley wooed, but wooed in vain,

From Monday until Sunday;

Still Cupid whisper’d to the swain

“You’ll conquer Betsey Someday.”

[“The Port Folio,” June 1816]

*Hello, Clicky… /lights up… That’s a good quality vid… /drags… Who uploaded it?*

MadFranko008 posts Blondie Sunday Girl on YT

*Figures… /rolls eyes…*

Good afternoon, Dear Reader. Yesterday I received a care package from my friends Legs and Poppy. Fortunately, I knew it was coming…

Leggy tweets Roob about a mystery gift

So one parcel, Dear Reader, containing three items, one of which was a mystery thing, and two were signed. Let’s look at each in order…

Samuel’s Girl

I’d recently given a copy of ‘Six in Five in Four‘ to my IT Director at work. For his holiday; he was going sailing for a week, and so in desperate need of a collection of short stories, for dipping into when not doing important things with ropes and sails…

Roob tells Leggy about Nick

Samuel's Girl Signed To Nick

*/puffs… Kit Kat does take nice photos with his phone, Clicky…*

Mad Men

Mad Men Expanded

Although Poppy’s DVD gift was not a mystery, Dear Reader, it did have an element of surprise…

Mad Men in Danish

*/flicks ASH… Utter madness, Clicky… /drags… Still the play’s the…*

Mystery Thing

The third item in the care package was indeed signed, Dear Reader, but it wasn’t a book…

Hi Ruth

Final got this posted! The book and DVD are in the bottom of the box. On top is something I had no idea what to do with, so I thought “I know, I’ll lumber Ruth with it.” So here it is 😀

Six in Five in Four Original Artwork Signed

Do with it as you will, it probably burns well 😉

Kevin

Leggy had sent me his original artwork for the cover of ‘Six in Five in Four’! On the reverse, written faintly in pencil, were the names of all six Anthology authors, alongside their alchemy symbol. Thing Two, a.k.a. Kit Kat, was most intrigued by this; he even took a copy of the book away to read…

snoopy faint

*I know! …/stubs butt… That’s all it fucking took to get him interested, Clicky…*

Leggy tells Roob to go hang

I’ve hung Leggy’s book cover artwork in pride of place, Dear Reader, above the place where I lay down… my head to sleep… perchance to dream…

Bedroom Wall

Have a Song ❤

 

Man Dial A Defect

Enormous chair

authority (n.)

‘c. 1200, autoriteauctorite “authoritative passage or statement, book or quotation that settles an argument, passage from Scripture,” from Old French autoritéauctorité “authority, prestige, right, permission, dignity, gravity; the Scriptures” (12c.; Modern French autorité), from Latin auctoritatem (nominative auctoritas) “invention, advice, opinion, influence, command,” from auctor “master, leader, author” (see author (n.)). Usually spelled with a -c- in English before 16c., when the letter was dropped in imitation of French, then with a -th-, probably by influence of authentic.

‘From c. 1300 in the general sense “legal validity,” also “authoritative book; authoritative doctrine” (opposed to reason or experience); “author whose statements are regarded as correct.” From mid-14c. as “right to rule or command, power to enforce obedience, power or right to command or act.” In Middle English also “power derived from good reputation; power to convince people, capacity for inspiring trust.” From c. 1400 as “official sanction, authorization.” Meaning “persons in authority” is from 1610s; Authorities “those in charge, those with police powers” is recorded from mid-19c.’

Ever heard of the Milgram Experiment, Dear Reader? It’s a social psychological experiment conducted in the early 1960s, which tested people’s obedience to a figure of authority…

The subject of the test is not the person receiving the shocks, but the person administering them. Now, let me show you how it has been run in the 21st Century…

Milgram Updated Governments and Smokers

WHITE COATS

GREY SUITS

BLACK LUNGS

And it’s not just smokers that have suffered at the hands of shocking decision-makers, Dear Reader. Administering Subjects, national and local, have performed so poorly that there are now other, mini ‘White Coat’ figures of authority, jumping all over them to get on the ban_wagon…

High Priest Jammy Dodger

… They are so very keen to tell the ‘Grey Suits‘…

BUT! There was some good news last night, Dear Reader, from across the Pond…

Now all the Dez Rez Prez needs to do is listen to his VEEP

Have a Song 😉

Missive From ‘Merica: ‘K. Ask Cade

Dear Reader, on Sunday, after posting at the LoL, The Okie Devil and I decided to resume our exploration of Doctor Who…

Cade and Roob in Sunday night convo 3

*Oh good idea, Clicky… /lights up… Convo selfies…*

Since, I first introduced Cade to the the Doctor, we’ve also watched the complete Deadwood series (his offering) and most of Sherlock (my offering). Synchronized viewing, across the Pond via the internet, all kicked off by the age old starting together method of “3, 2, 1, Go!”

Thankfully the last season of Sherlock is not readily available…

reality

*To be honest, Clicky, I didn’t look that hard… /drags… What they did to that show? …/thumps chest… Still. Fucking. Hurts! …/snorts smoke…*

Whilst we were watching, fellow Mero-VEEP and Blade & Chalice blogger, GeneofIsis (MJ), paid a visit to the LoL. She very kindly posted some comments and photographs…

Cade and Roob in Sunday night convo 2

And here it is, Dear Reader: a ‘Missive From ‘Merica’ inspired by MJ 😀 Enjoy! ❤

*******

Let's carry on something I started elsewhere...

Continuing here will allow me to float a bit. I must admit tho, I do not want to float…I’d prefer to address things more directly, as requested. Not sure I can do that. We’ll see how and where this goes.

^BSOD / This Is Also The Hook [full version]^

If you are creating a systematic type of environment for others to follow, do you work it forwards? Or would it make more sense to work from valley to summit, backwards?

Does that even make sense?

Think of it like this…if you are going to commit yourself to summit a transcendent type of peak, where do you start? It’s likely that you’ll actually start this journey when you made the decision to package and sell your journey to others.

So, isn't that the logical place to start?

You are going to be selling your bullshit to others, which means they are likely to want to do the same, so it makes more sense to me to start relating your journey when you became enlightened as to the potential commercial benefits of sharing your program with others.

Do I have you pissed off yet? Cause I have a program for sell that helps one deal with unfounded anger issues. The starter program is on special this week for $399.95. And you get a free “I Fuck On The First Date” coffee mug when you purchase the program.

^The KLF – What Time Is Love?(1991)^

Figuring things out can be rough. So let’s go backwards and look at some shit that I saw in some comments that a certain someone made recently on a certain blog.

7 spokes on the Honda (looks like a Honda anyway /shrug)

8 spokes on the spinning wheel

22 panes in the windows

07 in the reflection

The masonry is quite stunning, and the color of paint is beautifully matched.

Q: Who is holding the camera?

A: ?

Did you know, that if you accidentally like one of your own comments on a WordPress blog post, that you cannot unlike it/undo the action? I related to Roob what this experience felt like on my end. Maybe she’ll share with the class.

Cade and Roob in Sunday night convo 1

^Modern Romance — Everybody Salsa Video HQ^

If you are going to espouse a predictive ability that contains an acceptable degree of precision, you are going to have to have shitloads of variables.

What am I thinking here?

Welp, let’s say that someone asked me to give some of my thoughts about some “synchs” or whatever, and there were potentially loads of purposes behind this request. Such as, what will he write about, and what will he omit? What will his reasoning be behind any omissions, and what will his logic be behind anything included?

Al Bean – The Forgotten Apollo Astronaut

(lolz – many forgotten Apollo astronauts, but he, ironically, is likely the most famous)

Leapfrog – how to get from A to B, all while appearing to not go anywhere in particular, or maybe even many directions at the same time. In this case, I am thinking about The Mercury Seven,

The New Nine,

Wally Schira,
Donald Slayton,

Ed White,

Apollo 9,

Bubblegum,

         Spider,

Apollo 1.

If none of that makes sense, it’s likely because the majority of what was behind the original thought(s) came from seeing a ‘Gemini’ reference, and the DM conversation that took place later on Twitter between myself and Roob. But much of it was predicated on the wording of a certain comment in the comments section of Roob’s blog. I later related that I personally hate the psychological analysis of speech and/or writing. It’s almost like you’ve completely ignored what was said, all for the sake of how it was said. Looking for “hidden meaning(s)” where there in fact may be none.

But back on “synchs” – lolz – this song just came up in my playlist on YouTube. I usually don’t point out shit like this because it happens all the time, but considering the circumstances, I’ll add the song, and you can make what you will of connections (if any).

^Paul Simon – You Can Call Me Al^

I was just watching a documentary on the SR-71 Blackbird.

Lockheed SR-71 Blackbird

Triethylborane

In the documentary, one of the pilots was talking about the simulator training the pilots received, and just how rigorous it was. He stated that it was non-stop errors and malfunctions up to the point to where the pilot was juggling 5 or 6 issues at the same time. When flying at Mach 3 plus, things happen very fast, and you can cover a great distance within a very short period of time. It was at this point that the real purpose of the test began, because you have to prioritize and “drop the ball” with respect to the issues you are juggling, and those doing the testing wanted to see what you prioritized and how you deprioritized your tasks.

Changing gears here, and with respect to a human life and/or human lives that I personally know nothing about, how do I personally prioritize my tasks? Knots in my stomach and a lump in my throat wouldn’t be my first choice, but for some reason, that kind of shit is on auto-pilot.

FYI, Mach 3 is roughly 2,301 miles per hour.

2,301 miles per hour is 3374.8 feet per second.

The fastest bullet speed is reported to be from the .220 swift, which is said to be 1,200 meters per second, which is 3,937 feet per second…so yeah…the aircraft is moving pretty goddamn fast.

3,374.8 feet per second equates to 38.35 miles per minute.

Google Maps reports that London to Southend = 42.0 miles via the A13.

“Distance from Southend-on-Sea to London is 58 kilometers. This air travel distance is equal to 36 miles. The air travel (bird fly) shortest distance between Southend-on-Sea and London is 58 km= 36 miles.”

That is to say, if you were flying in the SR-71 at normal cruising speed, you could cover the distance from London to Southend in right about one minute. So yeah, sometimes, things can happen pretty fucking quick.

^Lulu – Boom Bang A Bang (Eurovision – 1969)^

Maybe if you think about frequency as an adjustment less in speed, and more in direction? No, that doesn’t work, because now we are interpolating meaning. So let’s do this, and ask a question…

Q: Do you meditate?

A: ???

K, well, maybe you can. But does your meditative state really need to be some silent and calm something? I’m asking because I don’t know. Whenever I meditate, shit gets loud, frequent and there’s plenty of it…like taking inventory of the contents of a tornado, all while trying to figure out the best method for doing so and still survive the tornado.

I guess what I am asking is, does your mind desire to have a silent mediation session, but you just can’t seem to do it? Maybe don’t focus so much on focus, and let things get fuzzy. Stop trying to pick something apart, or put something together, and just let the shit fly. I only say this because one of my more troubling experiences was with respect to an entity speaking to me so fast, in a language that I did not understand, that all I could think of was:

“This entity is fucking nuts. They’ve gone completely off their rocker, and are speaking nothing but gibberish.”

But then it occurred to me…what if they weren’t speaking to just me and only me? What if there was a way for an entity to have simultaneous conversations with more than one listener? Almost immediately, the gibberish stopped, and it occurred to me that perhaps there was something taking place that I could not understand, only because I did not understand the dynamics of the lesson being taught.

^COCTEAU TWINS (extended) BLUEBEARD^

Ever been around someone that just intimidated the living shit out of you? Someone that was so fucking smart, that it was as if there was nothing they could not do?

Welp, stop yourself for a second, back up, and think about this…if you are intimidated by them, they are likely not going to be able to relate to you at all. So in effect, this knowitall fucker, in fact, cannot do everything.

Feeling better about yourself now?

Good. We’re back on an equal-ish footing. Imagine that there is a certain someone that can do a whole bunch of shit at the same time, and they appear to be able to do so rather easily.

Ballet

You may not be privy to the effort(s) that went into obtaining such skills. This is likely why hierarchical systems tend to develop in the way(s) that they do. Some dumb kid stumbles into the world knowing more than they should, and they are prolly going to have a rough life trying to survive in a hierarchical system, especially if they aren’t picked up somewhere along the way.

“Along the way” better fucking well be before the age of 18 in our time(s), because we seem to stress “getting them while they are young.” Even if they do get found, they are likely going to be subjected to all kinds of expectation. They may wind up being a complete burnout by the age of 18 because they were found. We are sometimes big on solidifying our bases, and will not hesitate to replace a brick that doesn’t carry its own weight.

Wait...since when are people bricks?
^Dennis Cruz – El Sueño (feat Martina Camargo)^

White Freightliner.

Volvo/White.

I wonder how often a truck needs washing?

Really? Who doesn’t want a magical girl?

    Sounds creepy when worded like that.

Air vent.

Classic games.

UPC Symbols.

White Rhino.

Marriage?

Or Marri J?

No one can decide what a dinosaur is?

Someone recently asked me “what those black lines were on the pavement”.

Noblesville Evacuation
A: Tar.

The “nce/Nature” had some kind of something yesterday, but it’s gone now.

Is there a significance to the contents of the hour glass? Most of the images are going to have a familiar flair to them. I mean, you’ve gotta stop and ask yourself just how familiar you are with periodicals. If you are someone that frequents a bookstore that sells a wide selection of periodicals, and you yourself are the type to browse the periodical isle/section, you are likely going to be familiar with many of the titles, logos, colors, shit like that. And so, if you also frequent a grocery store that has a periodical aisle, you are likely going to have some mental contrasts between the bookstore and grocery store and what they carry. Not to mention that some stores may let shit sit on a shelf for a while, while others may not. I recently took a pretty cool pic of Mary while visiting my sister in Austin. Didn’t know it was Mary at the time, but kinda suspected it, and the pic was pretty cool.

^Pendulum – Tarantula [HD]^

Scorpion or archer. I answered both, because I’ve owned several bows in my lifetime, and was actually pretty good with them. So with respect to starting points, I guess it’s as good as any to let you know a bit about me. Dunno why anyone would want to know about me, but yeah, I’m a Scorpio who is fairly good at archery.

Me, me, me, me, me.
Me, me, me, me.
Me, me, me.
Me, me.
Me.

So…what’s up with you?

I need to know.
^Jay Lumen – Sunbeam (Original Mix) – Noir Music^

Vagaries or anything vague is going to be kinda scary. This might have the effect of cascading. You don’t know what to make of what you are experiencing, so how can you be expected to relate it? Especially if the only people you have to relate your experience to/with are judgmental. I mean, they just want to get you fixed so you can be back to your normal happy and productive self.

As far as a redux, I dunno what to tell you. I’ve no program to sell, and don’t subscribe to assigning a value to something in order to somehow reinforce or substantiate its worth. When I first read the story of how Morgellon’s got named, who named it, and why?

Kinda crushing.

So if my reason(s) and method(s) seem too altruistic, I gotta know…

Q: What’s wrong with being altruistic?

A: ¿?

I’ve no answers.

I'm not psychic either.
^CHVRCHES – Miracle (Official Video)^
Let's talk about knots.

If you’ve got 25% of the matter in the Universe encapsulated within a knot in time, not all of that matter will loop. Some will loop, and some will be in a holding pattern of sorts. If you think in terms of Purgatory, maybe that will help to make our “time knot” make more sense, but I’m likely about to freak you out with that same notion. So yeah, part of the matter loops, part does not. In the case of “big bang” followed by “big crunch”, the matter will reorganize in an identical loop, but not all of it. If you think in terms of “data preservation”, this might explain why a certain someone may or may not know something at the same time that they knew previously.

Loop 01: Subject A knew about a certain something on November 12th of 2017.

Loop 02: Subject A did not know about the same certain something on November 12th of 2017.

Loop 03: Subject A knew about the same certain something on November 12th of 2019.

Loop 04: Subject A was born without a head on November 15th of 1967.

Loop 05: Subject A knew about the same certain something on November 11th of 1973.

If a particle of matter does not manifest in the exact same way every time, the next iteration will differ. Did your understanding of “alternate universes” and/or “alternate realities” just take a turn? Or was I too vague, because it’s about to get worse.

^Paul Van Dyk – For an angel (Original mix) [HD]^

Let’s imagine that our time knot iterates every 10,000 years.

Q: How in the FUCK can a chunk of a 14 billion year old universe iterate every 10,000 years?!?!?!?

A: Simple...we're talking data preservation, and how that data is preserved, reorganized, destroyed, recreated, all kinds of crazy shit.

I’ll have to get to more detailed shit as to how certain dynamics can accomplish this as I go.

So yeah…a chunk of The Universe “big bangs” every 10k years, collapses in on itself, then does the whole thing over again and again. Small changes here and there can have unintended consequences, but it’s basically the stew-pot where universal dynamics are tested and re-tested over and over again.

Like a sandbox.

Anyway, we’ve got someone within this realm that needs to know a certain something, and they need to know this certain something by a certain time. So say, if our person needed to know this certain something by Jul 24th of 2035, and yet that someone was stillborn in 1967 of the current iteration…

Q: How long does the iteration have to run before resetting?

A: A long fucking time.

Roughly 2,000 years, but due to the nature of knots, it could be as long as 11,000 years depending on how uniform the time distortions are.

How could this be possible?

Welp, like I said, it’s going to take some explaining. But the short answer is, sometimes shit works out the way it does. Someone may remember stuff from previous iterations, but not know how they know it.

Who does someone like this turn to?

Welp, if they turn to science, they are going to be laughed at. If they turn to medicine, they are likely going to be medicated and/or locked up. If they turn to religion, they are likely going to be told that they are cursed or possessed. If they turn to metaphysics, they are likely going to be told that they’ve been reincarnated and used to be someone famous in a previous life. The person in question is likely going to know that all of that is wrong.

So...where does our person turn?
^Cocteau Twins – Alice (Deep Space Remix)^

So yeah, if you ask me about alternate realities and/or universes, I understand what you are talking about. I just have some different ideas as to what they are, why they are, where they are, and how they operate. The “sweet spot” would be either:

A) don’t get into a time knot, or

B) if you do get in one, pray you never know that you are in one.

I’ve seen and devised some very destructive methods of utilizing infinities within and through time. Knots are the scariest of all. They’ve a weird linear/looping nature that can run in so many simultaneous directions, and do so for so many iterations that may last from micro-seconds to eons, and do so within the constructs of a set period of time.

10,000 years in this instance.

So you are likely wondering, how could something that loops every 10,000 years contain elements that last only microseconds or eons? I dunno…ask science. They seem to think they have a bead on “event driven” things. OK so, I won’t bail that easily. Lemme do another section.

^DMK: “Everything Counts”^

If you’ve got a knot, and part of the matter does not manifest as it should, where it should, when it should, it may take billions of years to get that matter back to where it needs to be, when it should be there, as it should be.

What would be the purpose of this “time knot”?

Funny that purpose would suddenly come up. We tend to deal in absolutes, not purpose.

Absolute chance…

absolute fate…

absolute absolutes.

Absolut vodka would come in real fucking handy right about now.

Think it’s easy for me to think about this shit? To talk about this shit?

You'd be wrong.

Seeing shit like this transpire in my head can be overwhelming. I can speed it up, I can slow it down, I can run it at any number of speeds from virtually any and all perspectives. To relate, think of a pulsar. With every single pulse of the image above, I can destroy and recreate the entirety of this particular knot. I can stop it here, speed it up there, but all under the auspices of finding where a particular issue lay within the knot. It could be as massive as a star, or as finite as a grain of sand on some distant planet. But when dealing with matter in this volume, virtually everything is finite.

That may sound contradictory, but it’s knot.

Everything is precious…

from the first drop, to the last.

^CHVRCHES – Lies^

I don’t expect any of that to make sense. But I am sure there are those that will likely understand what I am talking about just fine. I don’t think that I am the only person that has ever thought about shit like this, but I do know that the experience of thinking about it can be difficult.

One of the drawbacks of time for those of us that ponder it.

Do I really think things like this exist?

Yep.

Do I really think that there is someone out there who would think such a thing like this up?

Yep.

And before you get too uppity with the ethics, keep in mind that you’ll likely make all kinds of decisions with respect to other lives, and not think twice about it. You’ve likely wished death upon someone just because they’ve cut you off in traffic. You’ll likely try and get someone fired just because they fucked your order up at the drive-thru. Unless you are not like that, in which case, good for you.

What we do, matters.
^The Crystal Method – Weapons Of Mass Distortion^

Look at it like this…

you’ve always wanted to rule the world…

right?

Maybe if you are stuck in a time-knot, and things work out correctly in one of the iterations, you’ll get your chance. Good luck.

Time...we already have all there is.
^Alice | Pogo^

cYa | cFa

^Deadmau5 – Strobe (1080p) || HD^

*******

We hope you enjoyed that, Dear Reader. Now Clicky and me are off to watch synchronized Hornblower with the Okie Devil…

Have a Song 😉

Missive From ‘Merica: So Long and SoPi

My good friend Cade, the Okie Devil from Textus, sent through a new missive for us last night, Dear Reader. But first… some sad news: smoking internet pal, Nik Nak…

nik nak

… died yesterday. The news of his passing broke in the Blue universe today via Frank. More tender words and remembrances of our stalwart friend can be found via Leggy, Bucko and Grandad

*/lights up… hope Dear Reader goes and read the comments too, Clicky… /drags… He will be missed… /smokes… I expect Smoky Drinky’ll be heaving tonight…*

*******

Let's find some work!

Ripley: Hey, I feel like kind of a fifth wheel around here. Is there anything I can do?

Apone: I don’t know, is there anything you can do?

Movie = Aliens

^The Beatles – Paperback Writer^
So...where do I start?

Craigslist is infested with data/information leeches and scammers, newspapers are going to require me to subscribe and/or pay. I don’t trust Monster nor Dice since they’ve gone through so many acquisitions that I don’t even know who they are anymore, so…where do I start?

The Best Search Engines of 2018

Blech!

Let’s take a step backwards, start from the beginning, and find out what I can do.

I know how to operate a cash register and have worked at jobs handling cash.

I know logistics and have warehouse experience.

I know how to fuel airplanes.

I know customer support, have done help desk, desktop support and phone support.

I know technical writing.

I know software development and programming…

 but I haven't done it in forever.

I’m gonna stop there, because what I really need is an old copy of my resume, and I currently have no way of getting to it since it’s sitting on the hard drive of a computer that doesn’t work anymore. Hell, it may be gone forever if the hard drive doesn’t work.

Fuck this noise 😦
^depeche mode – work hard (1983)^

Let’s share what I’ve seen on Craigslist lately…

Resistance/Liberal Contributors Wanted For New Humor Site

No pay – “Exposure” only.

😦

We need readers

They don’t want me to respond via Craigslist? Seems shady, but $16-$32 a day to read books? I could likely read 2-4 books a day quite easily. But then I have to write a review and, since I’m being paid, that means that I’ll be gleaning the turds for peanuts in order to find something remotely palatable to write about. I mean, they are going to want positive reviews, kind words, shit that sells books: no one wants a paid reviewer shitting atop their shit pile. That would be an ex-cess-ively shitty mess.

PC Gamers: we’re looking for writers

This appears to be another non-paying gig, and I’m going to have to spend untold hours playing a game that might suck-ass. Then I’ve got to review it. But what if the game is good, but I’m terrible at it? Would that make for a good review?

“HEY! THIS GAME IS AWESOME! But I suck at it.”

Immediate openings for P/T writing positions – Top Pay ($30/hr!)

Suddenly…I feel like the character from the movie “What Women Want”. I’m wearing pantyhose lined with panty-liners and/or maxi-pads around the house, all day, just to make $30.

Video Captioning – Earn Up To $390/week – Work From Home (Work from Home)

“Staying fresh in the workplace.”

…she says. Since when is there even a line between the home and the workplace? Go to your bathroom, take a gander around, and you are likely to see more logos and advertisements than you would see on a 15 minute drive in an urban area, even if the radio is on.

Go to your kitchen. Take a gander at your appliances. Open the fridge. Open the pantry. Advertisements and advertising have LONG invaded the home via more than just television and radio. So I would argue that “staying fresh in the workplace” really isn’t that difficult. Not to mention that “keeping up” is just more advertising for more revenue streams. Certifications aren’t free, nor is the process of getting them.

Let's abandon this ship. 

It’s long since sailed.

^TOTAL IDIOTS AT WORK^
Let's go with recent experience to start...

Recent Experience: Thinking. Writing. More thinking. Blabbing nonsense on Twitter with a few friends.

And yep...more thinking.

That shit don’t pay, so let’s stop dilly-dallying, crank up MS Paint, and start making some attempts at…

SoPi-H

Q: Can magnetics be used to focus?

A: Ever heard of a compass?

Simple.

NO!

I mean within the mind.

Within the body.

Q: What tools do we have available to us in order to better navigate our daily challenges better?

A: Time. Can't do jack shit without the time to do it in.

But you gotta keep some things in mind.

Bird Migration

Birds seem to know where to go, how long to stay there, when to go somewhere else, and where to go. So let’s stretch that out a bit. Let’s stretch it out say…over the course of a spring/summer/fall.

Spring is coming. You are a bird that migrates up north as the weather warms. However, back at the place you just left – unbeknownst to you – some contractor just started a new project to build town homes over the next 6-8 months. When August/September rolls around, and you begin your journey all the way back to your wintering grounds, you’ve no idea that when you get there, your home is going to be gone.

Fucking squatters.
^Missy Elliott – Work It (Official Video)^

SO!!! How do we navigate our own minds within and without? Visualization sometimes helps. But most of the more modern tools are too linear, and most of the old “mysteries” kinds of things are too static or vague. I need something more fluid. Less rigid, but solid.

Solid like air. Solid like water.

Everything is contextual with fluids. Go fast enough? Air will burn you like a charcoal briquette, and water will break every bone in your body. And yet… a breeze at the right time is like a cuddle from the sweetest of lovers, and a splash of water at the right time can cool and refresh. I’m not trying to invent a steering wheel for the soul; there are PLENTY of fucks willing to tell you what to do with that thing.

Nope, this is more about how spirit and mind get us through the things we encounter. We like to think that almost everything is either positive or negative; good or bad; right or wrong; correct or incorrect; but it’s all those things. Hence, I think we spend most of our time in a state of indifference.

EX: Buy/Don’t buy. Sell/don’t sell. Walk/don’t walk. Run/don’t run.

We don’t like to think of ourselves as indifferent because it seems too wishy-washy. And yet…

decisions, decisions, decisions.

So yeah, indifference…we hang out there a lot methinks. Our secret lover.

^Work For Love – Ministry^
SoPi-H – Iteration 01
SoPi-H – Iteration 02
SoPi-H – Iteration 03
SoPi-H – Iteration 04
SoPi-H – Iteration 05a
SoPi-H – Iteration 05b
SoPi-H – Iteration 06a
SoPi-H – Iteration 06b

So yeah… SoPi-H. That’s it. That’s them. That’s…what it is…what they are…

whatever.
^Fifth Harmony – Work from Home ft. Ty Dolla $ign^

Drawing this shit from the hip, and not trying to be so goddamn perfect, sometimes aptly displays why I’m not always “all about shit lining up perfectly” or according to some rigid set(s) of specifics. As the perspective changes, so does the outlook on “what lines up…and what don’t”.

EX: SoPi-H_03 doesn’t look so bad. However, when you turn it 90° to make SoPi-H_04? Yeah…the wonkyness is MUCH more apparent.

The personification of indifference with respect to decision making.

The “defect” was always there, you just had to approach from the correct angle/perspective in order to see it. It looked great here, but not so much later. So if you’ve attached your anchor to a certain principle, what happens when you take a look at that principle from another angle?

Q: Are you locked in?

A: !!!

It’s like finding a defect in clothing after you already purchased it, removed all the tags, you wear it for the first time, and you or someone else notices something about the garment later. I mean the fucking thing looked just fine on the rack.

FUCK!!!

How in the HELL does something like this get past quality control at the place that manufactured it? Why would a retailer not check their own stock for defects prior to making it available for sell?

What I did there...do you see it?
^deadmau5 – Hyperlandia^

cYa | cFa
^The Beatles – A Day In The Life^

*******

Dear Reader… Have a Song… ❤

 

Sumfin’ Fishy: A Roob/Click Convo Fragment

*Has your boat come in, Clicky? …/rolls eyes… Funny, I can’t smell any fish… /sniffs...*

*/blank stare… Nope, you’ve lost me… /flicks lighter…*

*/lights up… Catch much fish in a dead pool, Clicky? …/deep drag…*

*Fuck! That a hell of a fish tail… /taps ash… Nekked, eh? Wouldn’t want that nosying around your wahoo… /puffs…*

Crossing the Date Line

*Coming out of what, Clicky? …/lights up rollie and drags…*

UAV front and back cover

*/puffs contentedly…*

At last, Dear Reader, the Underdog Anthology V is published

*Knot a graphic novel, Clicky… /streams smoke… Short stories, many authors…*

… I’d been speculating with Leggy late on Friday as to the date it might appear…

Legy and Roob talk UAV and dates 1

… The first ‘event’ listed in the Wiki link – ‘The Year of SIX Emperors’…

LONE-STAR-1

*Five pointed star! I was thinking of The Okie Devil of Textus… /flicks ash… Cade’s got stories in the book. I didn’t even think of that, Clicky… /pats snout… What did I list next?*

Legy and Roob talk UAV and dates 2

*/drags… 19 Four-Tees… /blows smoke ring… Nineteen stories…*

*Three? …/squints… Sew, inadvertently, Leggy and I counted down six, five, four three… /final drag…*

Legy and Roob talk UAV and dates 3

*2, 1… /stubs butt… Hey, how about that ‘wolf trap‘, Clicky?*

Legy and Roob talk UAV and dates 4

 

Strangely enough, Dear Reader, if you go check out UAV’s listing on Amazon – and I suggest you doo 😉 – it’s published date is 20th April

facepalm

*Oh I dunno, Clicky… /lights up… 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, 0… /grins…*

Have a Song 😉

Who Noob Tales: Nine Lives… No, Really

I am having a long weekend, Dear Reader. I spent yesterday daytime making final edits to stories in the soon-to-be-published ‘Underdog Anthology V: Six in Five in Four’. Leggy has a preview, in which he includes one of his stories from the book…

Old Peculier on the neighbours cat

*/grins… How peculiar, Clicky… /lights up…*

peculiar (adj.)

mid-15c., “belonging exclusively to one person,” from Latin peculiaris “of one’s own (property),” from peculium “private property,” literally “property in cattle” (in ancient times the most important form of property), from pecu “cattle, flock,” related to pecus “cattle” (see pecuniary). Meaning “unusual” is first attested c. 1600 (earlier “distinguished, special,” 1580s; for sense development, compare idiom). Related: Peculiarly.

wiki peculier

*’Also KT and KH’…/drags… No shit! …/streams smoke… *

Then last night Cade and I resumed his introduction to Doctor Who, and also caught up with Leggy and Poppy… Les amis…

Poppy and Roob discuss Cades Who Introductory Course 1

Poppy and Roob discuss Cades Who Introductory Course 2Poppy and Roob discuss Cades Who Introductory Course 3Poppy and Roob discuss Cades Who Introductory Course 4

rare doctor who hand flap

*/flicks ash… Knot a favourite episode, Clicky… /drags… although, excellent use of a jammie dodger… /blows smoke rings… I’d forgotten about that…*

Poppy and Roob discuss Cades Who Introductory Course 5

Poppy and Roob discuss Cades Who Introductory Course 6Poppy and Roob discuss Cades Who Introductory Course 7

*Like the villain, House, in The Doctor’s Wife, Clicky, Daleks are a bit like a sea anemone… /puffs… “hard on the outside, squishy on the inside”… I hadn’t made that connection before… /taps teeth…*

Anyhoo, in honour of Old Peculier’s neighbour’s cat, Dear Reader, and seeing as a ‘cat‘ won today’s Grand National, I thought I’d take a leaf out of Leggy’s book – pun intended – and post one of my stories from UAV. It’s short and called ‘Nine Lives’. The Knot-Sew confidential making of it can be found here. Enjoy!

*******

NINE LIVES

Karl sat at his kitchen table, smoking and observing the tendrils of early morning mist gently tickle the tops of the garden hedge, before continuing their soft creep to the ground. It was dark outside but the lawn glittered with stars; pregnant dew drops nestling in the grass caught the thin, amber light that spilled from the kitchen window. He stubbed out his cigarette and gulped back the last dregs of cold tea from his mug with a grimace. Not long now, Karl thought, she’ll be home soon. Outside the mist started to swirl and pool.

He stood up and stretched, bones creaking and knees popping as if to salute the end of his vigil. He fleetingly considered that he was getting too old for this malarkey, but she needed a watcher – someone to light the way back. He could bear the discomfort; it was only for the night. Karl rubbed his eyes under his glasses, and dragged his hands down over bristled cheeks to wipe any tiredness away. He contemplated putting the kettle on when he heard the first high pitched bark puncturing the dark. The second got him moving. “Not the foxes again!”

As he opened the back door, the wet slap of morning air to hit Karl’s face was accompanied by a rude crash and skitter of a dustbin lid falling, somewhere in the mist. She’s coming from the right, he thought, opening the door wider to peer out into the murk. More barks, louder this time, and a fiery hiss, were followed by the sound of clambered wood, as the garden fence shook violently. Karl held the door further ajar, and a white streak shot out of the mist and between his legs, into the kitchen.

Karl closed the door on the mist and the foxes who, by the sound of it, were now rummaging through next door’s bin for tasty scraps. He turned to the slight figure, lying on the kitchen floor. “For goodness sake, Lara, do you have to tease the foxes? It upsets the neighbours.”

“It upsets the bins,” Lara replied, lightly panting as she rolled over and attempted to sit up. “No, they were waiting for me. Foxes are not called cunning for nothing, Karl.”

“Yes, but they usually leave you alone when you’re hedge riding.”

Lara sighed. “It would seem witches aren’t held in much esteem these days. Not by people or wildlife.”

Karl surveyed the flush in his wife’s cheeks and her glittering eyes, and thought she still looked pretty formidable considering her advanced years. He also noticed the shudder in her arm propping her up. “You should get off the floor. What would you like, sofa or chair?” he asked, scooping her up, with barely a tremble from his own geriatric limbs.

“Sofa,” Lara replied with a wan smile. “Thank you, dear. And a cuppa and a ciggie wouldn’t go amiss either.”

“Funnily enough, I was just about to put the kettle on,” Karl replied, before lowering his wife, so she could reach out and pluck the cigarette packet and lighter from the kitchen table. A fat bead of blood splashed onto the surface below, quickly followed by another. “You’re injured?”

“Damn foxes.” Lara winced and drew her arm back toward her chest. “One of them managed to get a mouthful of armpit. I don’t think it’s too deep. Just stings a bit.”

“But you’re bleeding,” Karl said gruffly. Too gruffly, he feared, from the look his wife shot him. “Okay, let’s get you comfortable and then I can clean that up,” he continued in a more conciliatory tone, before carrying her through to the front room.

Karl noticed that Lara was already on her second cigarette when he returned five minutes later, to set out a bowl of hot water, soap, flannel and towel on the carpet before her. “Kettle’s on for tea,” he said kneeling down. He adjusted his glasses and gingerly started to lift Lara’s elbow. “Can’t let it get infected, how would we explain that to Dr Patel?”

“I can always change back so you can take me to a vet,” Lara replied sharply, pulling away from his grasp.

She must be in great pain, Karl thought. “Come now, dear, we don’t have pet insurance. We don’t own a pet.” Lara’s eyes briefly flashed at his riposte, but her body relaxed and she allowed him to lift her arm. “So apart from getting into a fight with some foxes…”

“Ambushed by some foxes,” Lara quickly corrected him.

“Sorry, ambushed by some foxes on the way home, how was the rest of your night?”

Lara took a deep drag from her cigarette. “Well it started off okay,” she said, billowing a great cloud of smoke. “I went to see Annie and girls down at Saint Michael’s.”

“And how are Annie and the girls?” Karl asked as he cleaned her wound of blood.

“Dead.”

“Naturally.” Any bleeding seemed to have stopped, but the swelling around the punctures had already started to bruise, turning an angry black mauve that only truly flourished on elderly skin. Karl stopped himself flinching at the sight. “You’d think they’d get themselves a spirit cat.”

“They’ve got a spirit cat,” Lara gently rebuked him with a chuckle.

“A ghost cat, then.” Karl smiled at her mirth. “You know what I mean.”

“Oh a ghost cat would be just as stuck as they are. Graveyards are lonely places, Karl. The residents like the company and the gossip. Especially the newly interred. Once the funeral is over, they rarely get more than a yearly visit from any family. If that.” Lara finished her cigarette and stubbed it out in the ashtray perched on the arm of the sofa. “How’s it looking?”

“Ugly but clean. It’ll need some arnica,” Karl replied, rising carefully to his feet. “That’s in the kitchen. Besides, the kettle must have boiled by now. No, no. You stay there. I’ll go.”

Lara laughed and shooed him away with her good arm before reaching for the cigarettes and lighter.

Karl could hear swearing from outside the back door; Jim must be up and found the aftermath of the fox fracas. Karl popped the kettle on and grabbed the arnica and some aspirin from the medicine cupboard, chuckling at the string of expletives emanating from over the garden fence. He glanced out the window to see that sunrise was already burning off the mist that had been so thick an hour or so ago. It looked like it could be a lovely day.

The sound of the front doorbell caught him off guard. Who would be calling at this hour? Karl wondered and went to open the front door. Through the frosted glass he could make out the shape of a woman in a bright pink dressing gown. What could she want? Karl thought as he unlocked and opened the door. “Morning Celia. Is everything alright?”

“Oh Karl,” his next door neighbour cried, her face puffy and contorted with distress. “Karl, I’m so sorry if I’ve woke you,” Celia started to apologise. “There was some trouble with foxes in our garden last night. I don’t know if you heard any of it.”

“No,” Karl lied. “But I heard Jim swearing earlier. Did they make much of a mess?”

Celia looked distraught at the suggestion. “Well yes, but…” she trailed off with a sob. “Karl, it’s Lara. I’m so sorry. They killed your cat.” Celia had not come empty handed; she held out a bundle, wrapped neatly in a towel, out in front of her.

Karl felt an icy chill bloom from the crown of his head and cascade down his body. “Thank you,” he said numbly, taking the bundle from Celia’s shaking hands.

“I’m so, so sorry,” Celia continued but Karl had already shut the front door. He felt the lightness of the bundle in his arms. It felt so slight.

“Lara?” Karl called as he carried it through to his wife, but the front room was empty. He laid the bundle on the sofa and sat down next to it. A spiral of smoke floated up from the ashtray perched on the arm. Karl turned and picked up the last of the burning cigarette and with trembling fingers, finished his smoke.

*******

I’m off now to introduce Cade to Thoughtful Man’s favourite companion, Dear Reader…

Clara

*/winks…*

Have a Song ❤