Monday, April 8, 2013

Where Was I?


It looks intimidating because it is like a Mozart Symphony...

I feel like I've neglected my diary but these past two weeks have been non-stop chaos. It didn't help that I lost my internet plan and the library wireless broke so I was forced to go to McDonalds at Walmart and blog in the rain with my computer on a newspaper machine.* This must be how people tolerate the loneliness of infinity...by filling their hours with tedium and trial, training dogs or kids, flogging their egos, scraping together a filtered self respect...diverting their attention from the approaching maw of dirt and ash. I haven't spent a minute pondering the universe or making imaginary love to my Mexican dream woman...fortunately someone else is picking up the slack.

...not one extra note
As I expected, this was my last opportunity to give my transmission my full attention before more work begins in the hydro-fracturing field. (Imagine a summer camp for 40 year old electricians...working in a 110 degree wasteland for 12 hours, and going back to a dirty hotel with a case of beer and a per diem that would make you cry, banking fistfuls of cash that will buy a beautiful headstone) I once resented a drug test but the only thing I didn't like about the one I took a few days ago (other than interrupting my transmission expedition) was the fact the front bearing on my moped flopped around and all the bearings fell out so I had to rebuild it next to my transmission that I was also rebuilding. It was getting a little bit out of control but one can only move forward with one operation at a time. If it's a success, like my front bearing, then I can move on to the transmission again. But I needed the moped to get back and forth to the transmission or else start living in van at a garage like I did in Corpus.

Times must change and Oggy can no longer keep his finger in the dyke that has burst with a flood of poisonous cultural artifacts. My self sacrifice was not only unrecognized but mostly resented and scorned. That's the nature of stupidity on both sides of the fence. Thank the stars that I'm not a bit pathological because I would mercilessly lay waste to the land in ways Murdoch and Trump can't imagine. Now I'm content to watch others do it because I don't have much to worry about since I'm a survivor without progeny. Bring on the Zombie Apocalypse! Let's devour the world like dragons. The propaganda wars won by virtue of ignorance and apathy and obesity. Congratulations...parents surrendered their kids at 4 years old and were returned soldiers and sugar junkies; Stalin was right. The Greatest Generation pimped their own children out to Eisenhower hysteria and then sweated their swollen colons as clogged veins replicated the IRS squeeze. We got the country we deserve. My immediate Anti-Communist goals are to exploit the blind environmenmental landscape until I have my custom guitar and a replacement knee and bandaids for my ego and slip into an anonymous Mexican village where I can fund a water treatment plant and grow old with chickens pecking at my scattered past...and rent the occasional teenage crank whore for entertainment.

Cow Milk Blues and Red The Puerto Rican who grabbed my chest hair relaxing on the porch
Driving around in a van that I recently rebuilt the transmission is a completely different experience, like fucking a woman you love rather than some frail fag who picked you up at a dirty cantina. I'm totally empowered and now visualize the sequence of events within the torque converter and the valve body and the passages and the servo piston and the clutch packs. The mystery of 1966 technology has been solved. The endless pursuit of innovation has basically made us all ignoramuses and that's the complexity that Thoreau warned against. Simplicity is subjective...but we all must make an effort to understand the nature of our lives and as the industrial era began Thoreau recognized "designed ignorance" as both something fearful and loathsome...a nation of people without a hint of a clue how they get from Point A to Point B. It turns out it's not necessary for a civilization to prosper but we reap what we sow and the seeds of ignorance will sprout deadly roots of moral confusion. I'll rebuild that transmission until the end of time...simply because I can.

* I renewed my painfully slow T-mobile internet plan so I'll be blogging hard until I go to crimp double-ought lugs for grounding lightning rods in the middle of the eagle ford.
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Man in the Van by Oggy Bleacher is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 3.0 Unported License.