Wednesday, September 8, 2010


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.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Oggy has entered the.... I really don't give a fuck attitude,, I kind of like it,,

He is motivated to get the fuck out of here, As I am,,,,, Goose Bay has an airpor....hmmmmm... I just want to flee, Mexico is for sissies, and Labrador is for Men who don't whine.

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Man in the Van by Oggy Bleacher is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 3.0 Unported License.