Missive From ‘Merica: Teh Synchro Nicety

The LoL is proud to present a new missive from Cade the Okie Devil of Text US for your delectation, Dear Reader, on what has been a very drab, wet Tuesday in June…

*Yeah right, Clicky, this is the UK, after all… /rolls eyes…*

*******

Hello there.

Mind if I ask you a few more questions after this question has been answered?

(tee hee)

Have you washed your hands lately? All clean? Any other areas of your body that have been slathered with soap(s) and water lately the quickly dried via any number of means and methods? Or are your hands pretty much the only thing that get bombed with a constant onslaught of waters(s), soap(s), and maybe even lotion(s).

I wonder what all that expansion/contraction does to the skin of the hands over the course of a day. Of course, for some of us, the skin of the hands is attached to the skin of the arms. Prolly some tugging and pulling that goes on there. Over time, that shit might start to add up. I mean, how many times do you pee during the course of a day? We all piss all over our hands when we pee, so we gotta wash our hands after ever single piss. Also, you likely are so diseased and infected with scum, that you’ve got to scrub your hands as if you were about to go into surgery.

Might be some tissue loss there, and there are almost certainly tissue changes going on. And since soap(s) are made from fats and oils, some of that might just seep into some of those cracks and/or get absorbed in the frictive fluid exchange transpiring as you wash/dry.

Nah...that's impossible. 

Prolly no proof whatsoever that any such thing could even be possible. The only tissue changes going on are when janitors refill the toilet paper and towels. Prolly no need to mention that you wipe your varied areas with wood fiber(s).

Yes. I am available to help with those hard to reach areas. Have towel. Will travel.

Wait…you just peed. SURELY your body isn’t already getting receptive to more fluid intake/exchange just because you peed. The walk from the pisser to the sink? The stand and wash time at the sink? How many times do you think your heart beats during that period of time? Not that we absorb any moisture nor anything else through our skin or anything, but I’m wondering how much calculation your body is able to do between the time the pressure starts to relive on the bladder, and the time that you begin to wash your hands. Prolly a lot of computation that goes on. That said…

Q: What about opportunism?

A: WHAT?!?!?!??????????

Opportunism within the body: if certain tissue(s) within your hands are dry as fuck and starving for a drink, is it possible that certain tissues/cells contained within the epidermis can be programmed to grab the first available source of moisture, liquid/fluid?

There are many things that happen within the body that suggest that there is a sequencing and/or prioritization with respect to who gets what when, and how it gets it. There is also much to suggest that there are overrides, shutdowns and even “turbo-mode(s)” that sometimes happen which are triggered by any number of things. So is it possible that via soaps and cleansers and detoxing agents and lotions and creams, that certain cells, at certain times, might actually contain more than one set of of instructions?

You take what we give you, when you get it, how you get it.

We will notify you with a precursor when what you need is en-route.

If what your need is suddenly present, and no prior notification has been received, take it.

You are part of a community, but YOU are part of that community.

In all situations, be your own best judge.

No…fucking…way…in…HELL that a cell could POSSIBLY contain that many, nor even those TYPES of instructions.

IT'S JUST TISSUE!!!

Oh yeah? Say that when the toilet paper roll is empty.

^Josh Butler & Bontan – Call You Back^


Yeah, this one has started off a little differently. Just got to thinking about the hands with respect to wetness and motion and additives and shit like that. But that leads me straight to two places…

the feet, and the womb. 

Your feet likely sweat quite a bit during the course of a day, so I ponder the tug of war that results over time between the hands and feet. The torso and head are going to be players, and yes, I am thinking “wrinkles” more than anything, but mostly wrinkles as an unintended consequence of some of our daily routines.

EX: You ladies are likely to shave your legs and pits, and some of you may also be in the habit of shaving other areas to keep that lovely, lushy forest from creeping outside your panties or bathing suit.

(rawr)

Um…

Anyway…

Uhhhhhh…

Where was I going with this?

(sure as shit know where I ain't going, so let's move on)

So yeah, you are likely to lose some skin/tissue when you drag that razor over your skin, and you likely change direction(s) a time or ten. That is likely to add some more fractal types of geometric dynamics to this tug of war that is going on between your hands and feet, and it does so in some weird places.

Yeah...under the arms. 

Several years ago, a motherfucking HORRIBLE thought creeped into my head as I pondered the dynamics of Morgellons as it related to underarm deodorant(s) and antiperspirant(s), and that was with respect to women who shave their pits. I mean, LOOK AT WHAT IS RIGHT FUCKING THERE, AND RIGHT NEARBY!!!! Lymphatic/Lymph and Mammary Glands!!! Not to mention that the Vagus nerve(s) run right fucking there as well. But yeah, because of how you shave, and where the hair is located, half of any goop that you slather under your arms is likely to seep into and down the arm, and the other half is likely to seep in and down the torso?

 Can that happen?!?!?!? 

Does that antiperspirant shit start to amass over time? I mean, I’ve been wearing that shit for years, and can skip a day or two without smelling like B.O., so it’s GOT to start to accumulate…right? Not to mention the changes these chemicals have on the body over time. And what about the accumulations themselves? What happens when there is too much for the body to handle and/or for the structure(s) to support themselves? Do they crumble and propagate throughout the body?

Welp…I did an experiment.

No, I did not start shaving my pits.

But what I DID do, is stop using deodorants and/or antiperspirants of any kind.

The elephant in the room.
^Josh Wink – Don’t Laugh^


Lets us change gears here as we peer into the abyss.

Triptych

Vertiginous

I’ve been staring at something for several years now. Been writing about what I see, and am seeing, as best I can. My hitting the books and learning all kinds of directly related shit and chasing rabbits was going to do me no good. So yeah, it’s a bit dizzying to look at a problem like this (Morgellons) in the face, and see all that you see, then somehow relate it. I have to take into account every scar and blemish. Every bump and bruise. Every stretch and strain. Every relief and remedy. Some remedies, are quite…unusual.

Vertiginous Epilepsy

I do not have Epilepsy, never had a seizure, and have only passed out once when getting my blood drawn when trying to join the USMC of all fucking things. Yeah…ringing endorsement for toughness there…passing out while getting your blood drawn to join The Marines…

BOORAH!!! 

What I am rumored to have tho, is Asperger’s. I don’t black out, I drift. I start seeing and thinking about some of the craziest shit, all without drugs of any kind. It’s like I can see the entirety of celestial dynamics in motion, and I understand it…

but I can't relate it. 

So I write music. I write poetry and song lyrics. I draw. I write. Anything and everything as a doorway that I can use to create something tangible to relate the pain of telling others the simple fact that “I cannot relate to you what I see, so this will have to do.”

With that in mind, what are some things that could be “nature’s way” of protecting us from things that we might be seeing or experiencing that we, or even nature, is unsure of how to handle? Contextually, this shouldn’t be that much of a stretch since life and an individual’s life is quite dynamic. The are going to be times that something is encountered for the first time. If you think about the way that we tend to handle “the unexpected” in our own life and lives, “stalling” is usually one of the first things we think of. Delay. Time…

we need more time. 

Maybe this is why things tend to “slow down” when shit gets wonky. We ask for more time, and we get it. We just haven’t yet figured out that more time being poured into existing time makes time distort somewhat. Like adding air or water to a balloon. The balloon is still a balloon, it’s just…

different. 

Much the same as when I drift. Big things get bigger, small things get smaller, and almost anything and everything that was previously fuzzy or distorted is now clear and concise. Naturally, most would think that the opposite is true, and from your perspective, it is…but not from mine. Your clarity is now fuzzy, and my clarity is sharp, therefore, I understand both.

But to be fair, I’ve been around for a while and have some experience under my belt. If you are someone who has a child with a “suspected this or that”, keep in mind that you don’t relate to them because you are trying NOT to relate to them. You want your child to be like everyone else. So yeah, there’s some distortion(s) going on there. Your child is NOT like everyone else any more than everyone else is like your child. They are unique. Similar, not same.

^Nitzer ebb – Getting closer^

Putting your pride on the line is going to be difficult for most. But that’s what I try and do. We are taught to have pride, but not to be proud nor prideful. Well, I’ve got pride as much as I have anything else, so I guess it’s a matter of letting everyone else tell me what to do with it.

But sometimes, I guess I have to step outside of what I or anyone else thinks, and try and shed pride completely. Operate outside of pride as best I can. Climb on to the OB/GYN table, put my legs into those stirrups, and get ready for the doctor to tell me to “GET THE FUCK OFF MY EXAMINING TABLE YOU FREAK!!!”

(lolz)

I digress.

It’s been quite a few years since I got my first glimpse of “The Morgellon’s Hole”, and each and every gaze has been deeper and more crushing. Finally, there was one day, the day when I started to ponder some more complex dynamics of the epidermis, connective tissues, skeletal and the musculature, that I literally laid on the floor and felt like my entire being was melting into the carpet.

“Oh..no," I thought.

No screams nor cries, no grunts nor groans. The weight of the Universe was upon me, and yet, I lay there and quietly melted into oblivion. Despair and hope somehow fused into an odd sort of unity that day as it became clear exactly what I was looking at.

As I pondered, everything became fuzzy as I contemplated the impossibility of what lay before me. Suddenly, the song that I was listening to on the headphones ended, and a commercial came on. A commercial for a new book. A book about some average ordinary guy, somehow caught up in a global conspiracy. No one to turn to, and completely alone, yet whatever this guy knew/had stumbled onto could change the entire world.

Q1: Did that really happen?

A1: Yes.

Q2: Was this a coincidence?

A2: I hope, that it was, but I just so happened to be listening and paying attention at just the right time for The Universe to throw me a bone.

I gotta be honest. After contemplating what I had just stumbled onto, and prior to that commercial coming on YouTube, I was seriously contemplating suicide as a possible option. There was NOFUCKINGWAY that I could POSSIBLY be dumped with a task of this magnitude, and it and I be correct.

It's too fucking massive, even for me. 

That may sound prideful, but the impossible is possible in my life. So yeah, it WAS possible, but it’s going to be a hell of a ride. I’ve no one. My wife is divorcing me, I’m so beat up and worthless that I can’t work, my children think I’m a lazy oaf, my mom won’t speak to me, my dad and one of my sisters is dead, the other sister is recovering from her husband recently killing himself, and I have no friends to confide in.

What do I do? Who do I have? 

Then, and almost as if on cue, that commercial came on.

So yeah…

Synchronicity

…I’m familiar with it.

That does NOT always make it, nor the journeys we find ourselves on any easier.

You’ve GOT to stop thinking of these things as only being bad or good.

They may be just a hello.

Maybe some kind of “yep, I am indeed here”.

Maybe nothing more than a something to see what you’ll do.

I dunno what to tell you. I really don’t.

But not all harbingers bring news of one type or another.

I'm saying all this to myself of course.
^Mumford and Sons – Little Lion Man^


I am NOT going to throw up some red flag and start screaming “STOP SHAVING” or “STOP BATHING” or “STOP USING SO GODDAMN MANY HYGIENE PRODUCTS”. My telling you to stop doing something is a mistake. Not only that, it’s wrong. You know your body and what it’s doing and/or not doing. You spending your days trying to head off some potential or future disease is futility.

YOU…

WILL…

DIE!!!

Period. End of story. 

I mean, yeah, it’s likely to be a while, and now that I’ve vented a bit, I think it’s safer to say that “you may die”. I only say that because I heard of this new product that promises longevity and health.

j/k

I’ve heard of no such product. Nope…never.

Man…I’ve worked myself into a hole here.

I can hear the scoffs vibrating in my feet.

And yes, I rarely wear shoes, so yeah, I can indeed feel the scoffs. Can you? You should be able to. You are the one scoffing afterall. Unless you aren’t.

/me shrugs
^Calvin Harris I’m Not Alone DEADMAU5 REMIX^

You wanna know one of the worst things about the concept of Synchronicity? It makes us, that experience it, likely to not further ponder our dependence on it.

 The Universe speaks, we hear. 

But we are likely to want more. I mean, you’ve been waiting for this opportunity for your entire life…right? Now here it is, and you’ve a got a motherfucking ARMLOAD of questions you want and/or need answered.

Q: Ya think “The Universe” might already know that you’ve got questions?

A: 

Yeah…prolly a safe bet.

But think about this…does The Universe already speak to you? I mean, when you desire a breath, is there air available for you to do so? When you thirst, is there something available to drink? If nothing is available to drink at this exact moment, will there be at some point down the road?

I don’t want to presume to tell you how you should think, because again, I don’t know you. But I will say this…once you start becoming more self aware, you are going to start noticing people and places and things that you’ve never noticed before. And more than that, you are going to start looking at these people and things in completely different ways. You are going to feel as tho you are being crushed with data and information, on scales that are incomprehensible and possibly even inconceivable.

That’s what we call “humility”, and that crushing humility is going to be masked by, and wrapped in, something that we call…love.

It's weighty. 

I’m not the type to make distinctions as to what is “more than or less than” because such distinctions fail us more than serve us. But that’s the types of decisions that you are better suited to make along your own journey. Pride suits certain people quite well, and it’s sometimes a joy to see certain people shining and basking in pride. So be mindful about your judgments and how they we serve you down the road.

Be nice.

Travel well.

Be safe.

Keep going…

Keep going…
Keep going…
^Garbage – #1 Crush^

You don’t need me to save you.

I’m hanging on by a thread myself.

I’ll help anywhere and everywhere I can…sure.

But as far as saving goes? I dunno that I have any such authority.

I dunno tho…I mean, since we’re both here and both hanging on by a thread, what exactly is it that you need saving from? Whatever it is, prolly gonna take some time to pull this off.

Just sayin'.

You got that kind of time?

I do if you do.

^Junkie XL — Crusher.. High quality.^

cYacFa

^jefferson airplane • go ask alice cover^

*******

*I could have done with that kind of offer at lunchtime today, Clicky…*

Next up at the LoL will be a series of posts exploring the whirled of MRS REGN –  pronounced Rain/Rein/Reign – and Cade has very kindly offered to play along. So until then, Dear Reader… Have a Song ❤

New Ham Let: ‘Cos Play’s The Fing

*/lights up… Afternoon, Clicky… /drags… Feeling Old Skool, are we? …/streams smoke…*

I saw a tweet earlier today, Dear Reader…

*’rollie stone’… /:D… *

Franglish Monkey Sync Sense goes for Smiles

Having a fascination with ‘signs’ and ‘syncs‘, I was interested to see, just how far the UK had “sunk”, so I clicked and started to read

‘ROLLING Stones guitarist Keith Richards proved he’s still got plenty of puff left — after being given permission to smoke on stage.

‘The 74-year-old rocker was seen having a crafty cigarette during the band’s show in London this week — aptly called their No Filter tour.

‘He was cheered by the crowd of 70,000 at The London Stadium in Stratford as he lit up, flouting the strict no smoking rule.’

GOSH

*/thinks and smokes… 70,000 people applauding the lighting of a cigarette, against the rules? In a stadium, Clicky, some believe hosted a magikal ceremony… /smokes and thinks… I wonder if the magik was intended as a one-off thing, or if the potential lingers longer than anticipated?*

*Butt then aren’t we all born a bit slippy, Clicky? …/blows smoke rings…*

The next bit of the article I found particularly interesting, Dear Reader – the Local Authority expounds on the issue…

‘But Newham Council said it would not be taking any action because smoking was part of the act. ‘Smoking on stage is permitted “where the artistic integrity of a performance makes it appropriate for a person to smoke”, therefore no action will be taken,’ it added.’

*As You Like it… /final drag… Underworld may have directed the music but Shake Sphere’s Tempest formed the basis of that magikal ceremony in 2012, Clicky… /fills air with smoke… And he’s still going…*

ode-by-a-smoking-brexiteer

*Smoking is an art, Clicky… /stubs butt… Sonnet 6+6+6… Ya Ken?*

Time for a Song, Dear Reader. Enjoy rest rest of Whitsun ❤

*Really, Clicky? I’d have had money on you going with a Stones Song…*

Kitty Syncs A Fishy…

kitty-syncs-a-fishy

*******

WEDNESDAY – AFTER MIDNIGHT

“Mum!”

A shadow hovered about me. I slide the headphones off my ears and attempted to look up.

“What’s up Kitty?” I asked, still dragging my eyes away from my PC screen. I’d been talking to Hugo, reading and listening to music.

roob-tells-hugo-about-the-broken-fish

“So, the fish was just in the sink, already broken, when you went in to brush your teeth?” I asked a pensive looking Kitten. “Okay, then, that is weird. Have you picked up all the pieces and put them aside? Dad might be able to fix it.”

He looked relieved. “Yeah. I told you, it was weird. You like weird stuff.” Kit Kat gave me a fancy bow and a wave…

*A bit more Rimmer, Clicky… /thinks… Like he was doing me a favour… How the fuck do you describe that? Thanks anyway… /pats snout…*

“Goodnight, mother dearest.”

“Do I have to go to bed?” Loopy called over, without breaking from his battle with a hoard of pixelated whatevers.

“No, you can stay up with me. You’re on holiday this week, remember?” I told him.

“Cool.”

Kit Kat and I synchronised eye rolls – Loopy would sit in that chair forever, if we let him. I kissed the top of Kitten’s head ‘goodnight’, and he left for bed.

*******

FRIDAY 28th October 2016  – between about 1600h to 1611h

Conversation between Roo B Doo and son Kitty Doo about where fought/thought/fault/fort/forte lies…

“But technically, it wasn’t me. It was gravity. I just gave it a little nudge.”

*******

THURSDAY – AFTERNOON

Thoughtful Man was sitting at his computer and I at mine. All was peaceful in the Library as I started to read the latest post from my good friend, Cade. I’d only got to the bit about inserting the lie, when I remembered…

*Yes, Clicky, that clown… Don’t do that! You’ll make me lose my concentration…*

“Shit! I forgot to tell you,” I told Thoughtful Man. I rushed upstairs to see Kit Kat. He was doing whatever teenage boys do in their bedrooms. I always knock… well you never know…

*Clicky, stop trying to distract me… Writing…*

“Where’s that fish you broke? Come show it to Dad. He might be able to fix it.”

Kitten was lounging in his Captain’s chair and got up begrudgingly, as teenage boys are want to do. He collected the fish pieces from the bathroom, handed them over and then followed me back downstairs, with a gracelessness that only 15 year old boys can truly muster.

“This fish…” I turned the body of the fish over in my hands and stopped. “Oh, it says made in Mexico. Did we buy this in Grenada or Phoenix? I thought it was Grenada.” I passed the broken pieces across to Thoughtful Man.

“Arizona,” he replied, attempting to fit them together. Part of the head had smashed off and a fin. He inserted the few straggler shards and held it up for inspection. “Traveled a long way, this fish to come live with us. Yeah, I’ll glue that back together. How did it happen?”

I felt Kit Kat stiffen from across the room, where he was taking a suspiciously long pause in the doorway…

*He wasn’t smoking! Clicky, please, go do something else…*

“Oh it’s really weird,” I explained to Thoughtful Man. “The other night when Kit Kat went to brush he teeth, he found it, broken in the sink. An earthquake is a more likely than it spontaneously leap of faith, wouldn’t you say, Kitty?”

I turned to my son,  inviting him to give his opinion on the flying/jumping/shaking fish phenomenon he’d tried to palm me off with the other night.

Kitten looked at me before answering. “It was really weird,” the Boy That Breaks Things offered his father with a shrug and knowing smile.

*******

THURSDAY – AFTER MIDNIGHT

Kit Kat slouched into the Library and sat in Thoughtful Man’s chair.

“Mum, do you want anything from the kitchen?” he asked me. He’s always been thoughtful like that, especially if he wants something in return. Usually food.

“No thanks. Listen, come over here.” I beckoned him over to show him the image I’d created. “I’m writing a LoL post for you, ‘cos I wrote Loobie one, the other day,” I said brightly.

He sat on the arm of my big chair and gave a nod. “S’okay. You writing a post for me? Am I in it?”

“Will you read it?” I asked him.

“I don’t like reading,” he countered. He can be brutally honest went he wants to be.

“Then that’s your punishment for breaking my fish.” I pushed him off my armrest and he returned to his father’s seat. “I’ll tell you what, though, you provide me with three things, any three random things, and I’ll include them in it.”

Accidentally broke your fish, which is actually my fish because you gave it to me for my toothbrush.” Kit Kat sighed, resigned to playing along to make me happy. He thought for a bit. “It’s about a cheaply made fish that I accidentally broke, so… The first thing is a really expensive fish…”

*******

Friday 28th October – Middayish, an hour after getting up

Opens unsolicited email from MJM, friend from the Blue and Y’Ello Universes.

It reminds me of Antismokers eternally blowing hot air about smoking and vaping destroying the known universe…

mjm-sends-roobee-a-fish

*******

“An expensive fish? Of course, what else?” I asked. He furrowed his brow before answering slowly.

Benjamin Franklin…”

*******

Friday 28th October – Middayish

Ninth email, from Frank, friend from the Red Universe, in an electronic missive chain discussing… well, that’s between him and me but it involves some of characters of the MEROVEE crew… They’re a fun crowd…

Come On Franklin. It’s going to be a fun trip.

red-frank-send-roobee-franklin-horror

*******

Kit Kat’s ‘I-really-couldn’t-care-less’ concentration was suddenly broken by the entrance of a mad dooshund, wrestling with a limpish sock from side to side. It had been quietly lying in the dirty laundry pile.

“Poppy! Let that go, let that go,” Loopy cried, springing up from his chair and attempted to gently prise the white material from the jaws of certain shaken death. “Come on, Poppy, give it to me.”

“And a sock!” Kit Kat exclaimed. “Expensive fish, Benjamin Franklin and a sock,” he finished with a flurry that matched jerky movements of the reluctantly dancing sock…

*Oh for gawd’s sake… /looks skywards…*

“Yes. This sock,” Loopy stated, giving me the sopping wet item before returning to his chair with our darling Popstar for a licky cuddle.

“Okay,” I said, putting the sock down and grabbing my headphones. “Anything else?”

Kitten looked at me thoughtfully. “Yeah, can you remind dad that my game comes out tomorrow?”

“Oh, I’m sure he already knows,” I said. “You’ve been heralding its arrival every bloody day since your birthday.”

*Ha! He saves his money and look at the fuck off size book it comes with, Clicky… /sighs at the irony… He’s never gonna read all that… /looks around… What’s left to do?*

*A Song? Nah, I don’t think it’s finished yet… Hey! Where are you going? Don’t piss off now… /huffs… Fuck it… /lights up, sits back, smokes…*