All aboard. People I very much appreciate:

Saturday, July 31, 2021

Hierophany and Imagination

For your consideration: 2 photos of blue yonder taken at the same moment, closely similar. The 1st contains an airplane headed southeast. Lookie:

The 2nd includes  an angel bearing 31 radians or 180 degrees or I am confused by old quadrant trigonometry that we abbreviate into mind's single moment as "ass-backwards" from the Cessna up top. Geocompass consulted, angel is headed northwest, waving at us.

As space-time metric increases ( universe expands) the universal MOMENT affects us too. Our minds, in that moment, are fed by every tributary. Do we perceive time as a navigational aid in experience of that one and only moment?

Universe began with an explosion, big bang out a notch in nothing. I'm now hard of hearing because I sat too close to it. You?

Friday, July 9, 2021

Ars Poetica

Photo shows Noire (black cat by the mat) and me. She is about 1/71th my age, yet we peacefully  

share a yard. This of course brought to mind two literary works, "Ars Poetica" by Archibald Macleish (c.1900 AD) and "Ars Poetica" by Horace (c. 19 BC). Both works are --like Noire et moi-- in mint condition (or so), but there is some modern consideration called for.

I refer, of course, to Albert Camus's essay against flawed philosophy, inequity and cosmic absurdity, "The Myth of Sisyphus".  It is predicated on the futility of pushing a rock uphill only to have it roll down again and again.

It involves meaningful miscommunication.This is crystalized in the 1970s film, "The Jerk":

"Ma: I hope you find what you're looking for.
Nevin: I will, Ma. I know it's out there.
Tosh: It's out there alright, and if you catch it, see a doctor and get rid of it."

Sisyphus and a venereal disease share an unfortunate partial linguistic homonymy.  If you EVER run across this film, watch it. If it rings a bell, seek the  proper spelling. It may save you some miscommunications.

Tell listeners, friends, teachers, doctors exactly how you are. Macleish's (1926) poem ends with "a poem should not mean, but be." 

40 years later, Sinatra sang:"Things turned out so right for strangers in the night...Do Be Do Be Do Be...etc."
Point is, poetry is an activity that has undergone definition and redefinition for thousands of years and, if you want to know what it is, read it --certainly-- but also seek it in your memories, experiences. Don't just read it, write it! The entire art form needs your part and heart in its living influence. It Needs You.

Thursday, June 24, 2021


I'm sitting here with a million-dollar bill that I found in my toybox. Tried buying a bottle of Woodbridge  Vineyard's excellent pinot noir from our corner Arab with it but he gave me that funny curious look friends give each other and said he hadn't enough change in the till.

Now honestly, is this the face of someone who'd try and pull a fast one on a neighbor? A rhetorical question, one the reader is not obliged to answer. My friend and cashier just smiled and waited for a smaller denomination --a real $10 U.S. bill-- and bagged my bottle as I dropped my coin-change in his counter bowl, which goes to charity.

This brings us to "cryptocurrency", about which I know only what I can write in little:
One bitcoin is divisible to eight decimal places (100 millionths of one bitcoin), and this smallest unit is referred to as a Satoshi.
The Satoshi is the smallest unit of the bitcoin cryptocurrency is named after Satoshi Nakamoto, the creator of the protocol used in blockchains and the bitcoin​.
The Satoshi is currently touted to equal almost a nickel, 4and1/2
cents, but unlike the  nickels we're used to --backed by the U.S. Government-- they are no more fungible than my phoney million dollar bill.

Plug nickels. A theory.

When a theory is the only one, it usually means I have misunderstood the theory or the problem --would appreciate apposite comments.
In response to Jenny_O's comment below, I have added some info+photo on the meaning and origin of the "Plug Nickel", which occupies the opposite end of the Hypnocurrent Spectrum. I'll explain it in my reply to her excellent comment:


Saturday, June 5, 2021

Heading Back to Earth

If you've not experienced this automotive enigma, as many  of us haven't according to trusted surveys, I thought it apposite to give this Normaphoto the attention it deserves. It was taken 6 years ago from the VW Van on Highway 101:

Road sign just says Earth Welcome. closing e is a tad garbled because it was painted in prehistory and they didn't know about es yet --did their best though. Upper Letter was added later to "arth" after the Great Prehistoric Vowel Movement resulted in legal adoption of 'E' and, in lower case court, judged in favor of 'e'.

This was a tremendous personal boon. My own name benefited : Geo. which, sans central vowel, is just "Go". I never knew if I was to start some uncertain something or just leave. 

I may be mistaken about chronology but I do know my grammar and spelling. Also, the photo should be useful to others who come to this planet from rural cosmological extremes.

Thursday, May 27, 2021

Dentition and Ground-breaking

At a recent HAA meeting here, at home an hour ago, I explained my problem to a more citified membership. HAA stands for Hicks Anonymous Association. I'd been watching a video clip about something so riveting that I clicked off as a commercial  yelled midway through: "Let me tell you about a GROUND-BREAKING TOOTHBRUSH..." Somehow that stuck in my hick mind, overwhelming the tutorial it interrupted, causing me to ask Norma if she'd mind taking a photo of my most trusted ground-breaking device:

She named it Rotovator, which is more inclusive than my word for it (Rototiller) because, we have very stubborn clay soil and have used it for all kinds of excavations for 1/2 a century --garden preparation, gray-water systems, digging slab sites down past the frost-line. It is a very sturdy and crusty machine, also filthy -- a GROUND-BREAKER. But I never thought of using it on my teeth.

I am afraid to go back and watch the whole commercial.


Friday, May 21, 2021

Enigma of Romeow

 Let's begin with a backyard photo of Romeow:

He is very handsome and full of drama. He is named after a Shakespearean character who ended tragically. 

The drama, Romeo and Juliet,  calls for its appellative role-players to drink from the same wrong bottle. 

The cat was stunned: "Really? They drank poison?"

How could I lie to that honest, earnest face? I replied, "No, little friend. The real Romeo and Juliet wandered into the road and got run over by a car. But consider, the play was written in the 1590s when sane people knew all about poison but somewhat less about cars."

"So Norma named me Romeow...."

"Yes! To keep you out of the road."

"Got it, 'keep out of road' but what about poison?"

"They are conterminous tragedies. Stay away from both --also from Capulets and Montagues. "

"Never heard of them."

"Start with Arthur Brooke. Good luck! 


I feel I must include an alternative interpretation of Romeow's intense expression and, for your consideration, offer it here as addendum (mech.: supplements added to the outer rims of wheels):


Friday, May 7, 2021

Enigma Of Elevation

Here is an impressive photo sent recently by my Nevada-dwelling  brother:

It is a dreamy picture of Mount Whitney in mist. The  peak we see peeking  between clouds is 14,500 feet above sea level. It is (don't know for sure) around 150 miles from Bad Water Basin in Death Valley --about 280 feet below sea level.  There is an altitudinal difference of 14,780 feet. In meters, that's only 4,500, which is why American mountains are so much taller than European ones.

Admittedly, my experience with mountains is limited. I did climb Mount Tamalpais with friend Will while visiting the town of Larkspur.  There I learned the town was named after Colonel Larkspur, a close relative of the prominent Delphinium family.

Sometimes we are, in topographic analogy, prescient and lofty or broken in Bad Water Basin. In all, the enigmatic mystery channeled here is distinguished by my rare ability to predict the future. A long time ago, in a lofty moment of psychic inspiration, I predicted I would not become a prophet or fortune teller --and I didn't.