Wednesday, September 29, 2010

a night of many sorrows

put a cap on the roof vent for the shop, relocated the license plate on the van, the chicken man figured out how I could move the spare tire physically as I tightened the bolt so it wouldn't hit the other door. Those two things bring me a small measure of peace. traded war wounds and didn't sleep until 3 which is two hours before Oggy has to get his ass up to work 11 hours crimping his soul into harnesses bound for ion implanters. The grind and sleeplessness have broken almost all shred of spirit. His coworkers drag their numb limbs, groaning. It is like rush hour at a burger grill for 11 straight hours and if you leave a burger on the grill for ten seconds too long then you have to scrap it all and eat crow. I wanted to be humbled and though I cling to a failed mexican love affair in my vaporous cavity of a brain, clinging like a falling man grasps at rope, I see myself assimilated into the grind. Smoking pot like everyone else at break and droning out to the sound of morning talk shows bragging about kissing a porn star. This is life off the map, blending in and bowing out. I remember the feeling in L.A. when I realized if I lived or died it made no difference because my life was merely a small cog in a big wheel crushing the resources of the earth. If I surrender my last thread of spirit then I enter a long sleep. The santa cruz book becomes eclipsed by the insanity of my current situation, but maybe it will enhance the parts about those living in vans.











Monday, September 27, 2010

Hemp Necklaces

It was slightly too soon to be teaching kids to make hemp necklaces. they can't tie their shoes yet. But we did make a leash for a plastic horse!
All my rowdy friends have settled down and have kids. football scrimmage, cartwheels, soccer, dance class. It raises the old question of how to start a family with such trepidation in my heart. Walmart is like a mouth we feed people to. I want to go to Egypt or the jungles of Guatemala and have children who fear apes and hurricanes and cast spells to make the rain come...



Mt. Major with D. Unlike other hike partners he didn't leave me in the dust and then tell oncoming hikers that "There's this totally crazy guy behind us. Don't take you chances with him. You can't miss him. He's got a red bandanna and..."

pretty funny stuff when a guy stares you down as you stumble past or a woman darts into the woods to avoid you. real fucking funny. Like I don't got enough problems in my life...



Tuesday, September 21, 2010

Rochester Fair



I wanted so much to share with you the video of the Rochester Fair but instead I have a picture of Dave grinding down screws in the roof of my van after we installed an escape hatch. I don't know what has meaning anymore. I want to catch leaves as they fall from the trees and dip my feet in a cold pond instead of driving into Portsmouth with the Navy Yard traffic wearing a dust mask too protect my bleeding lungs from the clouds of fiberglass dust now in my van.
It's impossible to do everything. Did I mention that NTB tires managed to fuck my alignment up worse than the mexican dirt roads that pulverized it. I pay for an alignment and get two busted tires and a front wheel camber bad enough to make Jeff Petty moan around the third corner.
I can't remember anything anymore so I will include this video as an explanation to why I am living this way. Hopefully I can refer to it when my memory fails completely.



I wanted to post this video so much that I went back outside and brought the file inside so I could do this though I am hungry and tired and living at the Walmart parking lot. When will there be wifi throughout the world?

Note: The damn freakout ride video was not captured due to my sickness and disorientation when flying sideways and spinning horizontally 50 ft in the air. I failed to capture the video of the chicken man with a sadness deeper than the Mariana Trench. There is one picture that made it. Enjoy!

Sunday, September 19, 2010

60 hours

It's a double edged sword. I save some money for the Labrador/Guatemala fund but breathing fiber optic dust and fiberglass renovation debris has my health declining faster than the Freak Out at the Roachester Fair. Which will die first; me or the van?

I worked 20 hours overtime this week which might pay for the drag link on my van or a facial peel for the fiberglass rash that keeps me up at night rubbing my skin raw. At night I see blurs of fiber optics and 22 AWG winchester pins. This is a pace at which the only time people don't show up are when they never show up again. Vietnamese slaves are pushed to their limit and then cast out with the dirty diapers from the day care for the future electronics assemblers. That is a reality. Ants in a dark cave feverishly assembling their ingenious appliances so they may better watch their lives digitally succumb to Steve Jobs's Utopian illusion. Maybe I'll get on a second life game and allow myself to run on auto pilot with the simple directive to get to Labrador. At least I can have a digital avatar make it to the Arctic wolf lair because the gout in my neck is spreading to my cancerous lungs and the chances of getting to the arctic circle fade with each piece of cracker crisp fried dough I ingest.

Does the Indonesian karaoke singer I work with complain? I don't know since I can't understand him. He suffers and limps after only one week and he is a young child with a face like a baby's. The last lady they hired ruptured her appendix and never came back. We plod on and the bags under our eyes can store our cold lunches. I bought two pounds of frozen ham and eat it with my mercury covered fingers at the table, fat dripping from my mustache. I have no excuse to quit but I'd like them to fire me. When I master this job I will immediately apply for an entry level line cook position at the 99 restaurant. The Quebec copper mine has not returned my calls but the Now or Never media on court street has expressed interest in the wolf documentary so I go in next week. I'll video record the whole thing to demonstrate my level of commitment and to impress them with my camera presence.

This trip will start one day and will obliterate all the past craziness. The zoo at the fair today made me realize the futility of influencing the world. I couldn't get the kids to wear their hats straight or to stop smoking cancer sticks let alone to recycle or fuck with a rubber on their herpie sore cocks. So, forget it. I want to see Labrador for myself. And that's it. Let the chips fall where they may. I was crippled in Alaska and veered from my chosen fate of being a Park Ranger, I read Hermann HEsse and Kerouac and fell in love with story telling and philosophy. I am content seeking contentment and when I am least content is when the rut finally covers me up and disguises my individuality into a blank slate no one recognizes including myself. There will be no wolf or guitar shows or books to tell the tale. There is only another crimp and the deadly prostate finger rooting in my ass for the disease that will kill me. The bulls at the fair await death with a nylon rope attached to their nose. The alpaca are skinny but their fur grows only when they are alive so they are kept living with hay to make hats and socks. I'd like to weave an alpaca hat to wear in Labrador.

It's past my bedtime and my feet are swollen like a roast pig. Another chapter begins tomorrow. A week ago this year I was in Colorado trying to drive to Labrador via St. Louis. Review last year's posts if you missed it. I guess I've got time if I wasn't in NH until October.

Thursday, September 16, 2010

Sand Man

Wallis Sands





"Hey, Beavis, it says "Butts." Heh. Heh heh.













Walmart Parking Lot

Some multi media events of the parking lot at walmart. It is as much acreage as my neighborhood growing up. Absolutely insane that people would allow that to be a parking lot. There must be a spare planet I don't know about because we are treating this one like a parts bike in a junkyard.


Tuesday, September 14, 2010

Oggy's Impromptu Environmental Syllogism

1) Catholic prohibition of birth control mathematically guarantees a population of militant evangelical bible thumpers. If mankind were the only casualty I would not be concerned. It is the wolf that I am trying to protect.

2) The strong will survive. Yes. But the strong evil men will prevail if strong good men do nothing. That means a world without Arctic wolves. This is unacceptable to me. The enemy of the Arctic wolf is my enemy.

3) I think corporate media is the number one threat to the Arctic wolf. The disinformation and objectification of humanity is manufacturing drones for future wars against nature including wolves. Only a brainwashed person would casually act in a way that is destructive to the habitat of the wolf. That brainwashing is done by corporate media including the Catholic church, Hannah Montana the whore of Disneyland, et al.

4) Corporate media can only be suffocated by an extremely powerful alliance of tree huggers and radicals. This alliance starts with you! It will be uncomfortable to suggest the media is a brainwashing weapon but that is only because EVERYONE IS BRAINWASHED. The media is a brainwashing weapon. That's what it does. Make no mistake. You aren't crazy. All the facts point to this conclusion except for the lies the media itself spreads in its favor. There is the brain your mother gave you and then there is the brain that Barney, McDonalds and Hannah Montana gave you. The two are totally different.

5) Resist any message that the mainstream media feeds you. It probably bears no resemblance to the truth. What you see in front of you is true. This is why I must find the wolf to report on its status myself.

Here's an interesting counter-media site that informs about something I was recently discussing, the Solar panels that Carter put on the white house in 1978, that Reagan tore out in 1986.
http://putsolaron.it/road-trip/2010
/09/10/bills-oped-in-the-washington-post-walking-into-wh-meeting-now/

And here is a video they made to address the climate change that my whole wolf summit meeting hinges on. See, the delicate climates will change first. If you are hanging out at the Belagio pool and think, "Life is good." then you are an asshole. Of course life is good in the desert next to a resort. But take your head out of your ass and ponder what life is like in the arctic. If climate change fucks the habitat of the wolf up then I'm going to take a fucking machine gun and change the climate of The Belagio poolside. That's just how it's going to go down so drink your fruity fag drink fast and cash in your chips, you worthless philistine.

Monday, September 13, 2010

wind turbines

solar and wind energy requires the same cable harnesses that I'm building for the semiconductor wafer slicing industry. It turns out that my company is supplying the turbine manufacturers as well as the ion injector set. So does that make it green energy? No, it makes you an idiot for believing in such a thing. We are like children who shit in their hands and think it is a mud pie. We can't have it both ways, ipod nanos and arctic wolves. It's a fucking choice. One or the other. Take a look at the miserable condition of the gulf of mexico right now. You can justify your head through your ass with excuses of progress and cocksucking movies but I tell you that one Cormorant or dolphin is worth more than the entire state of Texas. One honest animal who is not manipulated by god nor by Disney and does not shit in your bed and we piledrive that motherfucker into the ground with oil soaked fists and call it a casuality, collateral damage of our quest to make Blade Runner a reality. You see any tree frogs in Blade Runner? No? Really? THAT'S BECAUSE THEY ARE ALL DEAD!

I look at this crisis and determine that extreme measures are called for. If that makes me wrong then I don't want to be right.

Wednesday, September 8, 2010

Neurosis

I just looked at my feet to make sure I was not stepping on Fiber Optic cable. The problem is that I'm at the library. I can not believe I've only worked for 2 months at this gig when it feels like a hundred years and my hands look like they belong to a sharecropper. It's hunched my back and broken my spirit. 2 months. The pyramids will have to be built by someone else. I just want to bang on the drum all day.

Daily Musings:

Everyone can't be an asshole.

I'm not running away from myself. I'm running away from Walmart.

The cycle of any civilization includes the point when it becomes too permissive and the Puritans flee for a new world where they will be more strict with their laws and morals. That is the point we are at right now except there is no new world to launch a boat toward. We are stuck with the Walmarts encroaching around us and devouring our lands until we all can buy real estate at the walmart parking lot and work there for part time wages and get our drugs there and eat there and sleep there and every single thing we do will revolve around Walmart. It's moving in that direction and some might say this is progress just like they said asbestos was progress...and tobacco...and the Los Angeles dodgers. Maybe it is and I'm a fool to resist. But the Divided States of America were founded by some blood thirsty farmers and preachers who were tired of the Church of England and then got fed up paying taxes on top of killing Indians. Originally, it all came down to a religion that was too permissive and a culture that had become depraved. Tales are told of families who grew up on the Isles of Shoals. They were amazed by the height and girth of the trees in Portsmouth. They were also horrified by the prostitution and drunkenness they found there in the late 19th century. Some of them warned the others to avoid the mainland because of its corruptible state. Portsmouth? It's a den of sin.

I do not like to fall into a cliche category but I think that is what has happened. I'm an impersonator of myself. I am an unoriginal hater of a depraved culture and the best that can happen is I can found a new nation that will eventually become more depraved than the one I left. It's a cycle of incomplete and imperfect lunacy. But what can one do? If a culture is depraved and is out of control and has run amok beyond all hope then do you complain and whine or do you remain passive and adjust or do you pointlessly start anew something that must follow the same dreadful path to peep shows and burning Korans? Is that the human experience: to have some babies and experiment within the confines of our culture until it all collapses? Time is running out to find an answer to these questions. We have more information and and are no more smart. We have faster cars and no more time. I draw the line at endangering the lives of the Arctic Wolf. Fragile habitats are the most susceptible to climate change and the Wolf lives in the most fragile of them all. Small changes are felt deeply and this animal has no voice. It represents the silent wilderness adjusting to our careless ways in bleak confusion. Only a species blinded by modern science would waste so much to accomplish to little.

The more I work in manufacturing the more similarities I see that from Kindergarten we were trained to be Pharaoh's slaves, to build things for the kings and be thankful for enough to live on. The lessons were all simple math, comparison, quality control. Can you draw between the lines? Can you do that for 11 hours? Can you do that with 30 minutes to stuff your gullet with ramen noodles and drink some coffee? Can you do that with your infant in the hospital due to jaundice? Can you do that for enough money to keep you alive and no more? Can you do that after driving 50 minutes to work so that you will work the first two hours for the gas to get home? Can you do that well enough that you won't get fired? This is Kindergarten 2.0, industrial arts and crafts, building aluminum can telephones with glass fiber optic cable stuffed in plastic split sheathing. If you are a good boy then you will work in a job that will insulate you from all the dirty slaves working beneath you in the caverns of the earth digging with broken fingers for a chunk of coal to heat your anal thermometer. And you will be the cat who eats the fish but doesn't get his paws wet. If you drink enough red wine you might even be able to ignore the waves of resentment that the slaves will feel toward you that your paleness would purchase a ticket to an office of loafers and fuck buddy Secretaries and paid lunches that are bought with the toil of the man in the bowels of the power plant and the optical illusion of wealth.

I only concentrate when I write. I am adrift in a sea of copper and crimping madness and this is the madness that only a limping poor man whose parents left him nothing but a ticket to the public school of assembly manufactures where after 12 years of abuse you will know that you should be a service worker or a landscaper because the stock broker pays you enough to get that lump in your throat looked at!

enough. I've got a windshield to fix and an attitude to adjust.

Thursday, September 2, 2010

Discovery Channel Held to Task

I was puzzled when I heard of someone attacking Discovery Channel. I suspected that the crooked media was at the heart of the man's problem but I wondered why target the Discovery Channel. The Learning Channel, with the disgusting Kate Plus 8, is a more deserving target. Or maybe even Kate plus 8 themselves.

The media has been on my mind these days even though I am trying to concentrate on my work now that I'm banking real money and almost learning some job skills. The media is, I think, our religion. It wasn't the plan when radio and television and movies were developed but that's the status right now. We worship media personalities like other people worship God and Buddha. Oprah, in 5000 years, will be seen as some kind of digital goddess who millions of people worshiped. "Her followers were known to eat sleep and conform to her standards of ethics and beauty," will be what future researchers will write about what is basically a gossipy Tupperware saleswoman.

Anyway, we worship cars and media. It's hard not to. I planned on taking one year to be media-free. Just to cleanse myself of my culture. I tried this in Mexico and about lost my mind. I describe it like you go on a trip and leave a trail of bread crumbs behind you thinking that you can always turn around. But one day you run out of crumbs and still haven't reached a destination so you think you can go a little further and still turn around but you can't. You get lost. And you are in limbo. That's what happens without the lifeline media or God gives. And that's where I stand today, rejecting the false prophets of the media and resisting the the sheep herd mentality of the devout.

So, for a planet of 7 billion people, we actually do pretty good as far as warfare. The media keeps us docile. Only poor people suffer and that's the way it should be. If you behave yourself and exploit the natural resources around you then you might make a buck. The chances are good you'll be dead before you ever see any effects of what you do. Or you'll be senile and it won't matter. So, it's September and 96 degrees. I drive around like everyone else and am appalled at the traffic in this little town. I forget there are areas where no one drives. It's easy to forget when you are stuck in traffic. But when you are on a remote plateau on the coast of Mexico it's hard to remember we've built machines that are perfect climate killers. Americans are now reliant on private transportation. Our lives can not function without a car because we've got to travel 30 miles in 25 minutes. But that's off the topic. The topic is media.

Now, the media is coercive like a hooker who needs heroin so bad she'll lick a man's dirty asshole. Lately, I've seen commercials where fat people stuff their faces and try to speak with food in their mouths. Like, that's acceptable. We've got girls selling their virginity to porn producers. I guess I'm a prude to think that's bad. I'm old fashioned. A romantic. One thing is for sure, we are now conduction a mass experiment on the effects of free access to humiliating pornography on an entire generation. I wonder if it will be good or bad. Hmmm...

It's all part of the media octopus that's impossible to escape. Television programs that manipulate people into sitting one foot from a screen to hear about grisly sex crimes, rape, torture, pain...then bang!....Eat at Wendy's!!! New Chicken Fajitas with fewer calories! Walmart sells jumbo potato chips FOR LESS! "Next on America's criminal perverts, a man who lured his victims to his sex dungeon...."
on and on 24 hours a day of media that is purely manipulating you into a pattern of fear and revulsion and jumbo fry relief. I'm pretty sure that our media could be considered a form of torture and sex crime if you analyzed in in the right way...but who wants to do that when the economy is suffering??

God, I can't be more sarcastic, can I?

Ok, so a guy finally had enough. He knows the media is literally enabling the destruction of the planet or at least distracting everyone from an obvious crisis environmental situation. Maybe he blames humans for being parasites and maybe he blames the media for manufacturing parasites...who knows...but he knows he can't live with the media and he can't change the world by recycling plastic bottles. So he straps some bomb to his chest and tries to get his message out in a more noticeable form than typing on a blog no one reads.

Listen, I've said it before that a war is going on and corporations control the media and control the minds of Americans. That can't be denied. The whole media paradigm is so poisonous that only a "free" country like America would tolerate it. We are manufacturing sexually deviant earth-exploiting consumers. If you break our media down it basically espouses godless, loveless sex and high calorie diet and irresponsible money management. And violence. I forgot that it glorifies violence.

So, it does have to stop. Absolutely. It must stop. It's a genocide from the inside out. The media is mentally gassing children before they can even speak. They don't stand a chance. No, it doesn't kill them outright BUT ONLY BECAUSE YOU CAN'T BUY THINGS WHEN YOU ARE DEAD. The media situation right now is bad enough that sensible people are reaching the conclusion that they have to defend themselves with bombs. Of course, so many people have been brainwashed that when you say "Humans are parasites. We have to stop breeding." then you can say, "That guy isn't talking sense. He's crazy." Yeah, crazy like 96 degrees in September and an iceberg as big as Manhattan floating south. Our lifestyles are completely over the top crazy and I really don't blame the guy for getting radical. It's time for radical action. It's too bad because if I was born 20 years earlier I wouldn't care and if I was born 20 years later I'd know it was too late. But right now I'm just optimistic enough to think something can be done to stop this insanity.

My father recently gave me his trademark advice, "Oggy, your problem is this: you can't save the world." Boy, it brought a tear to my eye knowing he was behind me 100%.
My response was, "Not with that attitude I can't."

I hate to make comparisons but I'm sure a kid in 1936 Germany questioned the Jews being lined up and given free trips on a train. And at least one father said to that boy, "You can't save the Jews." And that father would be what I call a coward. And that's basically what you are if you want to lay down and watch the media hijack the priorities of every person who comes in it's broadcast range just because the media is too big to fight. The media will defeat cowards every time. Definitely. Any asshole can tell you that. But heroes, people who stand for something and are willing to die for it, will prevail in the end. I know what side I want to be on.

I haven't figured out how to be media free and still complain about the media. I think I want to create my own media and supplant mainstream media with my own content. But how do I avoid the media? It's hard as hell. The guy who attacked the Discovery Channel stood for something. It is a war and there will be casualties. The best thing to do is organize a resistance that is big enough to defeat corporate media. Individual attacks don't accomplish much. We need to actually locate the source and go to work. That's not easy to do but that's what has to happen. Who is with me?
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Man in the Van by Oggy Bleacher is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 3.0 Unported License.