Thursday, July 31, 2014

Torta Heaven

At times like this I wonder what the hell I'm doing.

The best torta bread is here in Chihuahua, toasted to perfection. And these churros were a little pricey but that's because they defied all logic by being fried inside an air conditioned kitchen and then kept warm in an oven. Makes no sense when it's almost 100 degrees outside the door five feet away. I prefer street churros but no one wants to fry dough when it is this hot. I feel like when I buy anything not drug related then I'm doing good.

At times like these I know exactly what I'm doing.
My new favorite city.

Wednesday, July 30, 2014

Ai Chihuahua!

Oggy, preparing to deport himself.
Fans of the movie Fandango will recognize this location...
This quote has stayed with me over the Costner says

GARDNER: "Anyway, you know me; gotta roll, gotta birddog, gotta cross females and fences... and if you'd all just come with me, you'd see."

There's a plaintive tone to his voice, a hopelessness and longing. A different actor might say it without the hidden pain. Costner got the tone right.

I picked a good week to change the ujoints on my driveshaft as I joined a crew on another canyon canoe trip, something I'd been hoping for three months. This trip was high class despite the low water and 111 degree heat. We explored a feeder canyon from Mexico and I considered staying there living off animals washed down in flash floods but decided to leave it as pristine as we found it.
note the washed out cave in the distance.

In light of my enjoyment of this pleasant activity I will explore the option of forming my own outfitter adventure service. I've offered adventure trips in the van but either my advertising is weak or no one believes the van leads to magical experiences. Maybe everyone wants prepackaged video games where they don't get their feet wet or hands dirty. So these fences I will cross alone.
hiding from the sun under a hanging cliff

Of course I did all the red tape official crap at the border and then drove onward and did not encounter any of the obstacles that have stopped me in the past, no border checkpoint, no police with guns, no narcotrafficos. Nothing, spending a lot of money to follow the rules to futility.
speaking of futility, my old sandal broke on the trip and an archaeologist had to fix it with parachute cord.

all hat and no cattle

Had I driven North and not South I'm afraid I would only be following my footsteps. Even here in Chihuahua I'm seeing familiar streets and churches and hooker hotels. But a little further south, where the accent is rapid fire and I stand with bell bottom bemusement at the foot of an unclimbed mountain, Oggy will be in uncharted territory and that's only the conceit of my folly. I've been dodging questions about my plans with the tired excuse that I'm following Kerouac's youthful path to a mythical city where writers are treated like royalty and wine turns disdain into prose so lofty and magical that the traffic jam of words in my head finally is relieved by a critical bypass tunnel through my imagination. I've tried this before with desperation and futility, wandering the zocolos and parks, riding my moped through my extended bell bottom adolescence. For my purposes I don't think of a destination which inspires me, but one that acts as an autistic squeeze box from which my tortured psyche can't escape...and it must reflect and vent naturally. I'm the only one standing in my way so the psychological warfare I delight in would make the Hamas propaganda machine seem weak like a fresh felafel.
It is a treasure location that I can determine.

P.S. my American phone is off line now. all hate mail and death threats may be directed to my exclusive hotline. My gay porn web cam has also been disabled until I get reestablished. Thanks for all your support!
Have a nice life, fellow Groovers.

The canyon canoe trip won't be represented by a crappy video. But it's all I have.

Thursday, July 24, 2014

Wrenching on Van: Part 411

Take it from Oggy, don't change the Ujoints unless they sound like banshees from Hell.

The opportunities to get dirty under the van never end. Someone pointed out that the drive shaft was misaligned by one tooth. that must've happened when I rebuilt the transmission. So I took it apart to fix that and though the u-joints were not bad nor sounding bad but I had new ones and decided to replace them as part of preventative maintenance. In hindsight, this was crazy because it's an easy job that is never easy and furthermore, bad u-joints are easier to replace than good ones, and one of my mottos has been to not touch things that aren't broken. The bearing caps were solidly in place and took aggressive beating to dislodge them. That beating in turn tweaked the iron yoke so the new ones were not seating perfectly. Basically, the old ones were better left alone. And it's a job that requires a big big vise or a ball joint/ujoint tool to remove them. Otherwise, it's a frustration apocalypse. I've developed a theory that as soon as I either go to the dentist, have an argument with a girlfriend, or work on my van then any magic that was in that location is removed forever. It becomes merely another place on earth where plastic dentic things clog the storm drains.

Was going to put a spacer on the carb, but one is already there.
The van has a hard time starting when it's hot probably due to ethanol volatility messing the fuel mixture up of the fuel in the chamber, basically boiling it too rich as the heat dissipates from the block.  The solution is to put a spacer on but a spacer is already there. So there's nothing to be done. All is in place to push and find somewhere new and magical where I have not gone to the dentist.

Monday, July 21, 2014

Going Underground

worst picture in the history of caverns
I don't recommend Carlsbad Cavern on a summer weekend unless you like Disneyworld and Boy scouts mixed together 700 ft underground...but my solution was to sit down in a corner and wait for everyone to leave. then I got the place to myself. Very impressive landscape and I've seen everything.

Tuesday, July 15, 2014

Oggy Reflects Humbly

I figured my recent screed would get some vile responses and that's what happened. Actually, I'd be disappointing if no one was offended. I got what I asked for and I don't feel good about it. Not one person said, "You are right, Oggy, we've been lied to and we've lied to ourselves and now it's time to make amends."
It was more like, "You are the hypocritical cunt, Oggy! You suck ass! I will slash the tires on your van if I see it parked outside my house. You piss in a milk jug so who are you to talk?"
"I don't see you housing any illegal immigrants in your pervert/creeper van, you piece of shit."
"Fuck you, Oggy! You'll reap what you sow when I put my foot in your ass."
"Coward and hypocrite. Go back to Honduras you greasy motherfucker and take some Guatemalans with you."
 "I'm fat and watching baseball and drinking a gin and tonic and I think you are a total asshole."

Ok, you get the idea. I would apologize but I really don't feel sorry. I feel superior to everyone because I am superior. I can out philosophize you and out fight you and out write you. I can stand on my head and shoot marbles out my ass to the moon if that will please me. And I'm not sorry for pointing out the incredible stupidity of my fellow man. Yes, I know what's wrong and I will repeatedly demonstrate my disdain for humanity all while living in a van and pissing in milk jugs and showering naked in the desert and shitting in shallow holes. It's insanity! I know! But these are fucked up times. Do you really want to go to the grave knowing that Richard Nixon set a precedent and you followed it? REALLY? The guy was a fucking narcissistic monster. He was bombing two countries at once, lying to America, spying, making affordable health care impossible, destroying lives with a drug war that only recently was determined to be a horrible idea, and finger fucking Chairman Mao at the same time. NOTHING HE DID WAS RIGHT. So, I reason, to counteract all the evil done by Nixon we must open our borders completely, transfer all the wealth of the Republican party to a new State known as West Texas, where Honduran refugees will be welcomed to air conditioned luxury funded by legal heroin and enjoy socialized medicine. Why? Because that's the exact opposite to what Nixon would want.

I'm sorry you are too dumb to realize that. So we will continue to reap the shit storm.


I've been hiding from the scorching heat at the public pool and the library. So I've been reading random books about true crime, guitars and economics.
Not pertinent to anything in this essay
I don't know when economics became the new philosophy but Steven Landsburg has a very good manner of presentation that has me thinking I missed my calling in college. Malcolm Gladwell immediately annoys me with his post-modern arrogance and Political pundits are repulsive and Dave Berry has used every joke twice and Erma Bombeck is dead so I'm sort of lacking opportunities to read some topical and amusing non-fiction. Landsburg provided me with not only a relief from my spiritual torment but endless philosophical leather to chew on fruitlessly for at least a year.

Landsburg approaches everything from a unique perspective. I'm at once hoping he does eventually control public policy, and also hoping he is never allowed to control public policy. Allow me to explain this contradiction.

His book, More Sex means Safer Sex is a title that caught my pussy deprived psyche off guard and I took the book to a secluded corner of the library hoping there would be nude pictures in it. Alas, the title is merely one of those modern bait-and-switch titles that has nothing to do with me, Oggy Bleacher, having sex, and more about tempting me to pick it up at the airport before a morning flight to Dallas. Damn you, Landsburg!

Actually, the title refers to a theory that I had to read twice to understand. I thought at first he was mocking the gun nuts of the world who think more guns means safer streets*. But no, Landsburg is saying that because shy, faithful people don't have casual sex enough they leave the casual sex world open to promiscuous, reckless cum swappers...who then either transmit diseases or have loveless orgasms. The theory is that withdrawn people should be paid to have sex because that would somehow dilute the sex society of diseases. It's the kind of theory that immediately seems insane but Landsburg isn't making a joke and his lengthy reasoning slowly altered my opinion. In the case of casual sex making for a healthier casual sex culture, I still disagree. Since we are really talking about my familiar hypothetical fantasy worlds (the lofty economist gets to call this a "theory") I don't think paying a shy, disease free person to fuck casually is the correct approach. What we want, ideally, is that those with diseases get tested and treated so they don't infect anyone else. Yes, if you want to complicate things (and I think that's Landsburg's specialty/literary scheme) then you could postulate that paying abstinent people to have sex would technically dilute the disease pool, but is that a practical solution? He even recommends wives openly cheat on their husbands as a service to the world, which I totally support.

Even if I didn't like his theory I like the fact he devised such a theory because it blurs the line between economics and philosophy. Everything he writes about from an economic or cost-analysis standpoint is something I've written about from a philosophical/moral standpoint...but it seems we don't reach the same conclusions so one of us is misled...and I think it's me.

I'm biased, is the problem and Landsburg is more open-minded. He approaches each problem like a scientist who is not going to impede an ugly conclusion. If you asked his personal opinion about the justice system he might come up with a different response than the one he thinks will actually work. I, however, would skew everything to fit my preconceived utopian ideal.

For instance, he proposes a jury member be allowed to read anything and talk to anyone regarding a case. Sequestration would be a thing of the past. His argument is that since freedom of speech influences everything else in our lives, such as elections, jobs, etc, then why shouldn't it affect our decisions on trials? A juror's impartiality isn't going to be affected if he's allowed to go about his business as an adult would and discuss a case casually while it is going on, and his opinion would certainly be enriched, so let him do it. The rigidity with which court trials are conducted is like it was created on holy paper in blood to be implemented by a species of mankind that doesn't exist yet, so it's pretty much a failure, lots of innocent people go to jail and lots of guilty people go free.

One good comment he has is to separate the jury into two groups of 6, and if they reach the same verdict then reward them with money because humans respond to competition. And here's a novel idea: when a criminal confesses to a crime or someone has a totally air-tight alibi....WE SHOULD STILL PUT THEM ON TRIAL. Why? Because we already know what the verdict should be we will be testing the jury to see if they are paying attention. And because you will never know as a juror if you are on a mock trial or a real one you will always pay attention. And he suggest something I've said which is that the jury and prosecuting attorney who finds someone guilty who is later proven innocent must all spend the remaining time in jail. And if a parole board lets someone out who violates their parole then everyone must go to jail. Landsburg says the parolee's first housing should be in the parole board member's houses.

Landsburg is a professor at a traditional university so he has to deal with traditional grading systems. A, B, C, D, F. These are awful indicators in my opinion and grade inflation or inaccuracy is a real problem since grades don't even show what the grade means. I've had classes where I assigned myself a grade. I learned early on to always give myself an A. As a teacher, I avoided giving grades. Usually I let a student do the work over again until it was an A. I can't rectify the futility of assigning a numerical percentage to something like a creative writing assignment or a hand drum lesson, so I could never teach in a traditional environment. Some universities, I think UC Santa Cruz is one, avoid grades because they are not useful and their graduates still contribute something to the world. Landsburg has a few ideas. One of the ideas is Grade Budgets. Each year a professor has a certain number of A grades he can give out. If he gives them all out in one class then he has to wait a year before someone can get an A. Also, a track record of grades by a given professor would evaluate/quantify what a grade actually means. There are solutions but, like the judicial system, our traditions and our apathy keep us rooted to poison soil.

I will give one more example of where Landsburg and I do not agree: obesity. Landsburg writes, "the obesity epidemic is caused by some combination of medical advances and low fat foods."
Really? I thought it was people making bad choices about food. Let's examine the 2 parts of this theory:

1) Medical Advances: "Obesity is bad for you but not as bad for you as it used to be." Lipitor, Pravachol and other drugs allow people to be obese without dying. So not only are more obese people surviving to be counted but since they know they can survive they have less of a motivation to combat their obesity. There is no need to avoid obesity since you can eat as much KFC as you want and the doctor will thin your blood out and put balloons in your arteries. I guess he has a point but this is a misuse of the drugs and people are still eating too much and not getting enough exercise.

2) Low Fat food: low calorie/engineered foods means people will either eat more to make up the difference in calories or eat less and lose weight. Low fat ice cream offers people an option to have a treat believing they are being healthy. They might think to themselves, "I'll eat this fried chicken tonight because tomorrow I can have low fat yoghurt." But tomorrow arrives and they promise they will have a fried egg sandwich and bacon because tonight they will eat a salad with low fat dressing. See, they postpone the healthy option but the healthy option is always factored into their unhealthy choice. I would point out that the unhealthy food choices are promoted by way of highway signs pointing to Cracker Barrel. Politically and culturally a decision has been made to put supermarkets further away from highways than a junk food fat factory. Big Red Soda employees should all quit, in my opinion, as their conscience compels them to do the right thing. I think conspiracies don't factor into Landsburg's thinking enough. Propaganda is paramount in American cultures so while there might be some underlying aberrations the biggest problem is the fucking propaganda that stimulates our aberrations.

I actually have 1 serving of low fat yoghurt and 1 banana in the morning with about a half serving of fiber cereal mixed in. That and some drinking water is the sum total of my breakfast, which I eat as soon as the Walmart parking lot cops bang on my window at 6 am. Then I do not eat until about 3 PM...and yesterday I went to JC's Tortas and had the most ridiculous Torta ever, named The Ezequiel, after the biblical prophet. It was actually just a ham and cheese and jalapeno, tomatoes and lettuce and avocado sandwich. It was a gigantic sandwich that I completely devoured as I watched the Mexican news about the "train of death" on which tormented immigrants catch a free ride north, (and I decided I would also hop on that train and learn what that means). The torta bread was fresh and though the pollo torta was better I cleaned my plate. I was still craving more so I rode my Vespa to Caliche's Frozen Custard and got a mountain of hot fudge and brownies and custard and I think whipped cream also topped with hot salted pecans. It was the best custard ever, enough for a village of Hondurans, and I could not eat it all so I actually lashed the remains to the moped and drove back to the van in a hail storm planning to eat it later. I had at least two offers to buy my Vespa during that trip, an odd encounter with a homeless person, a visit to a western store to look at $300 beaver hats, and one nearly fatal close encounter with a truck. etc. (I do not know how economics fits into all of this but I'm sure Landsburg could make it.) So, I go to the supermarket where I take a sponge bath in the bathroom and wash my hair and ass crack and while I am there I see a body fat analyzer and sit down and learn the following:
Oggy's current stats:
Height 6'.
Weight 159.
Marital Status: Nope
Body Fat 8.64%.
Lean Mass 91.36.
Flexibility: Decrepit.
Hydration 2.04.
Bank Account: Depleted

What's my point?

Says Landsburg, "It's the economist's job to explain where we ought to be headed, and the political scientist's job to explain why we can't get there from here."

*I say that NO guns would mean safer streets. And a gun nut would say, "that's never going to happen, so..." and I would respond, "well, neither is everyone going to be armed, so...". and they'd say "it's easier to arm everyone than disarm everyone, so..." and I would say "that's a great fucking plan" and the debate would deteriorate.

Sunday, July 13, 2014

Another Waltz About A Dreamer

I'm putting this song into my head. I was surprised to realize it's a waltz.

Midnight Special

In the darkness the hobo plays his tired songs.
Toothless homeless beg spare change while
the prisoner throws nickles to his own traumatic engrams.

Saturday, July 12, 2014

Reap What You Sow

I don't take any pleasure from pointing out that American foreign policy 40-50 years ago guaranteed the destabilization of Central America and guaranteed that the damaged collateral of that imperialistic era would one day walk across the Rio Grande seeking family (previous refugees). We fucked ourselves with casual cowardice and repulsive apathy in the era of I Love Fucking Lucy. Our defacto dictators lay waste to Panama, Honduras, Nicaragua, Guatemala, and Cuba as part of a blatantly hegemonic foreign policy THAT ONLY THE STUPIDEST PERSON IN THE WORLD WOULD THINK MIGHT WORK. But working isn't what they were after because the point was to consolidate power and money into the immediate hands that were grabbing and the problems, the holocaust, the flood of refugees would not be seen by eyes filled with worms in desecrated graves. No, the richest families would protect themselves with money from the fruit companies that laid fresh mangoes on the tables of the elite, picked by starving slaves in Guatemala...and that was seen as progress because the alternative was a socialized government in which Americans might have to pay a high price for fresh bananas. Really repulsive history that is now biting us on the ass...but the idiocy of Americans, the stupidity and general dumb fucking knuckle-draggers find ways to blame the current president, whose name is not Eisenhower or Truman or Kennedy!
1952: The first CIA effort to overthrow the Guatemalan president--a CIA collaboration with Nicaraguan dictator Anastasio Somoza to support a disgruntled general named Carlos Castillo Armas and codenamed Operation PBFORTUNE--was authorized by President Truman in 1952. As early as February of that year, CIA Headquarters began generating memos with subject titles such as "Guatemalan Communist Personnel to be disposed of during Military Operations," outlining categories of persons to be neutralized "through Executive Action"--murder—or through imprisonment and exile.

It's unfortunate that America has in our history psychopathic leaders, but until we accept that our recent history is filled with atrocities then we will not accept our responsibility for the conditions in Central America, which are what people are fleeing. The ignorance and false pride and delusion of someone who thinks, "These greasy wetbacks are coming to the greatest country on earth..." is astounding. Realize these migrants have swallowed their pride and decided if you can't beat the devil then you have to join him. And for those fucking assholes who aren't totally clear about what I'm saying: WE ARE THE DEVIL. WE ARE DEMONIC. WE DESTROYED THEIR  LIVES AND OPPORTUNITIES BECAUSE WE WANTED CHEAP FRUIT CUPS.

Do not deceive yourself that a Guatemalan teenager is coming to Houston because America is known for a loving treatment of his country. We set his home on fire fifty years ago and then fanned the flames for 5 decades and he has not been able to put it out. So he is fleeing his home for the home of the arsonist who set the fire. That's the situation. If your daily dose of Fox News and MSNBC has you crying for elephants or puckering your lips to taste the new scratch and sniff pussy fruit roll ups then you are fucking hopeless. I would trade the entire state of IGNORANT NEW HAMPSHIRE CUNTS with their precious chain link fences and expensive lobster rolls for one Guatemalan village.

An honorable American would write a blank check and give it to the nearest Guatemalan refugee. A complete cunt would kick back and watch baseball with a beer on his fat fucking gullet, all the while proclaiming superiority over everyone like a cheap dress on a dead hooker.

Thursday, July 10, 2014


I'm not finished with this epic introduction to Scientology, and I don't know if I will ever finish it so I thought I'd give my initial impressions. Hubbard has no gift for punditry. Like a teenage Dictator, Hubbard writes in total absolutes and then refers to his own absolutes as "absolute". Like saying, "The sky is I previously established, the sky is green." The fundamental absolute is really earth-shattering, "Survival is the objective of life."

Getting Clear
Yeah, I was stunned too. In fact, I had to go back 20 years to when I was a budding philosopher, living off of my mother's kindness in Ecuador, that I wrote the same words and broke my arm patting myself on the back. Hubbard is a better writer than myself because he manages to say much less with far more words. It only took me 100 or so pages to sum up my statement on existence but Hubbard needs 700. One critic titled his review of a Hubbard book, "The Sound of One Mouth Blabbering" and I really think that's funny and fitting because Hubbard definitely gives the impression of believing what he says as he writes in a giant pastel colored echo chamber. If Ayn Rand never wrote fiction she'd write something like Dianetics. In fact, you might call Dianetics a method book to become a fictional Ayn Rand hero, since Rand never explains how someone is going to become as happily self-serving as John Galt. But, the way Hubbard is so absolute and certain is startling, unbelievable, like he's experimenting with the language and style of a demagogue. I'd like to count the number of times he writes "Irrefutable". Every other page has something like, "These statements are irrefutable based on scientific data publicly available." But his blabbering is so unrelenting that I think the success of Scientology is because most of us would rather push on through the book than try to refute the statements. It's like Hubbard knew the tired and aberrated* simply wanted to feel better, get rich, get laid, etc...and did not want their self help era to begin with a lengthy refuting/contradicting of the very book they just paid $8 to help them get better. Right? We're trying to be positive so let's all accept every overgeneralized statement in this huge book and move on!

In my early career as a cult** leader I missed this point and so had no followers. I actually tried to do the work and map everything out as I determined my legions of devotees would best be served by. I wanted people to be moved by the statements themselves and not by dramatic axioms. Hubbard skips right over all that and simply says, "Clinical tests prove these statements to be scientific facts..."
Damn! I'd have millions of followers too if I had used that simple bit of irrefutable bullshit. Normally, a scientific book of this nature, one that irrefutably describes the solution to acne, world war, mental fatigue and bloating, would be followed by a lengthy source bibliography...but not Dianetics. No, the back of this book has "Where to find an auditor" section.

Drug Treatment for Neurosis thumbnail
Does anyone else think this?
It's blatantly unscientific and a completely manufactured, jargonized cult of optimist fetishists. It's like the Fairbanks Rescue Mission I lived at for 3 months in Alaska when I had separated both shoulders and collarbones, had no money, no home, no friends...and the evening sermon would begin, "Are you injured, homeless, broke, alone? Christ has an answer..."
Believe me, I paid attention, until I realized every person in the little room was injured, homeless, broke and alone. The pastor was cherry-picking afflictions. Hubbard does the same thing but he says, "Did you get passed up for a promotion, is your boat not big enough? You need to be audited." At least Christ has time for the destitute; Scientology aims for a different income bracket.

Dianetics does have a point: Life can be miserable and perhaps it is all my fault for intentionally preserving each moment of my past like a calculator with a stuck #7. I feel Dianetics might have some clues to my own aberrations and inability to relate to society, but as a writer I sort of depend on my memory for material. If I totally resolve my shameful and self-loathing engrams*** then where will I get all my good material? So, while I do feel the evidence supports my suspicion the rats have taken over the cheese factory and humanity is defined by confused masses who merely don't want to upset the status quo regardless of the consequences...perhaps a mindless apathy, sharpening drill bits, selling sneakers, teaching math, etc. would suit me. Maybe Amitriptyline would help. And maybe Dianetics will be a piece in the puzzle if not how to integrate to the insane asylum, at least to confirm that it's as bad as I thought it is.

Then I dig a little deeper into the ways of Scientology and I see it's not practiced in a wholesome way by some. Elements of positive response and coming to terms with the past, though unoriginal, can't really be faulted, but the degree of falseness I detect in the spokespeople can't be ignored. Trappist monks don't get much face time with CNN and that's too bad because no one has anything to compare the aberrations that usually sit next to Piers Morgan and Nancy Grace. Trappists are boring and they won't sell Ragu Marinara sauce, so Mr. and Mrs. Revlon Make-up-Forced-Smiles are slotted with dusted faces and false eyelashes and the next generation of consumers think they have a good idea of ideal behavior. It's a distraction but it becomes conditioning...which is ironic since Hubbard's strategy is to recondition aberrated conditioning...and the nature of modern Scientology is in itself aberrated conditioning...which is like some horrible loop of never ending engrams regenerating themselves...all on the premise of helping people find clarity but ultimately about consolidating land in Malibu. I've met and talked with Trappist Monks so I know what wholesome looks and sounds like; Scientologists do not compare. They sound like programmed replicants.

Summary: I don't want to steer anyone away from self help therapy. God knows, I need relief from my untamed reactive mind. Scientology probably doesn't pervert anyone who isn't already perverted. To use Hubbard's basic axiom: it will survive if it follows the rules of survival. I've become simple-minded in my old age so when a confirmed drunk once asked me for advice I told him to treat everything like toilet paper: If you need some then you go and get it. It's not complicated.

*Aberrated is a word used frequently in different forms in Dianetics. Aberation, aberee, aberated, aberate. It's a cool sounding word and Hubbard's vocabulary really is very broad, though too clinical and hollow for my taste. He's not entertaining and sometimes flippant on serious subjects. He sounds autistic. I use the word aberrated to amuse myself with a word Hubbard appeared to favor. He defines it as "A departure from rational thought or behavior." But I've always defined that word as "a departure from normal thought or behavior" and that's actually the correct definition. There is a big difference between the two definitions because currently in Texas it's normal to eat at a horrific restaurant called "What-a-burger" and drink something called "Big Red" soda. That's normal, so an"aberration" would be to reject those places. I'm an aberee because I refuse to eat at What-a-burger and drink Big Red. But as an aberration I think I'm being rational because of the health risks with that type of processed shit. So we have a contradiction when the normal behavior is irrational...and the aberee is abnormal but rational. See? I'm just a poor hippy living in a van so I must be an asshole aberration but the normal citizen is bent on global destruction. And this contradiction is what keeps Oggy awake at night.

**I use this term with hesitation. Cult is an admittedly negative word, but I've often stated that religions are maligned inaccurately as the sources of grief related to their religions. "Buddhists", for example, who hack others to death with hatchets...aren't Buddhists in my mind. You are a Buddhist right up to the point you hack someone to death with a hatchet. Then you are just a bald guy in a red robe holding a bloody knife. Israeli and Palestine conflicts are about land, not religion. Has anyone evidence that the Muslim religion specifically denounces it's close cousin Judaism? These conflicts have religious undertones, but aren't about religion. However, some of the primary practices of Scientology are remarkably unsavory. It's not a departure from Scientology to disconnect from your suppressive family's required. So, Dianetics goes from a strange theoretical treatise written and tested by a devoted investigator into the human mind, to "THE CHURCH OF SCIENTOLOGY"...a religion that advocates "destroying" enemies and obstacles. Since this developed recently we can be skeptical and claim it's not a true religion since there is no deity to worship or bible. Even though the book definition of Religion includes a belief in a God, Scientology has managed to make itself tax exempt in the eyes of the law

Their own explanation of why they are a religion is this:

"The Scientology view of an Ultimate Reality transcending the material world includes its concepts of the thetan and the dynamics which include the spiritual world (the Seventh Dynamic) and the Supreme Being (the Eighth Dynamic)."

My grandfather would call this "total bullshit" but it passed the test in America and it's a religion. During my 4 year sentence in Los Angeles I was exposed to many religions and they were all loathsome. I want to be fair so I think I'll just consider every religion a cult. The Red Sox Nation would definitely qualify as a religion if they ever chose declare themselves as one. Watching the World Cup left no doubt in my mind that soccer is also a religion practiced by many. So, cult and religion are used interchangeably until I decide differently or mankind comes to its senses.

***Engrams are a totally invented bit of Hubbard jargon used to encapsulate "unresolved issues". If your mother coughed when you were in the womb then you would have an "engram" of that moment and only a thorough audit would resolve or "clear" that engram.

Note: I put Dianetics next to the Holy Bible on my dashboard to see if the cops would bother me and the two books touched for a second and I think I accidentally opened a portal to another universe. Oops!

Additional Note: For comparison, I browsed a self-help book called "How To Be A Grown Up" by a white tooth Fox News "paid pretty face" Stacy Kaiser. It's totally generic and definitely wasn't written for the average homeless musician. It did, however, make me realize that mental health or being 'well-adjusted' does not automatically come with wealth and family like a Burger King combo meal. It's easy to think that my living in a van, riding a 40 year old Vespa moped around a strange city is the cause of my mental fatigue and spiritual torment, but those are merely symptoms. I know this but the continual depreciation of my value in the eyes of the police and society sometimes cloud my vision.

Wednesday, July 9, 2014

Aging Atheist Learns New Trick To Outsmart Cops

See Graph for application

I think I figured out a police repellent

Tuesday, July 8, 2014

Above The Clouds

So exhausted at this point but self-destructive enough to continue .

My calves are pleading for mercy so I can only say I am not fit enough to hike 12,000 ft mountains.
Oggy, looking for answers

The sludge of Barbacoa tacos and vodka is no fuel for the active and oxygen deprived gypsy. And I must caution anyone driving a 1969 van to Ski NOT do it. Sierra Blanca is forbidden anyway.

On the way up...wheezing like an old dog.
Unless you have recently replaced all your brakes and tested them thoroughly and also rebuilt your transmission then you will have some kind of fatal breakdown, maybe mental also, in that trip. Even
on the way down
if you survive then you have to do the whole thing in reverse...after hiking to 12,000 ft. The Mescalero Apache Gods will have their vengeance for your trespass.

The Little Bear fire of 2012 burned many pine stands here

Maybe a Hairy Woodpecker on a burned pine

Thursday, July 3, 2014

Broken Gear

I expected to find a note begging for help in Chinese

Sort of looks intact, but then...

This plastic gear has been chewed up by the fan shaft. The teeth are gone so the fan will not rotate to cool Oggy flesh.
If the worst mechanical problem I have lately is the gearing of my rotating fan (now stationary) then I'm doing good. But I think the design of a plastic gear being turned by a brass coated gear moving at high RPMs was something I'll take up with the Chinese designer. They probably save thirty cents by making this crucial gear plastic but it meant the fan will rotate for only about one year. The fan itself will work because that's a separate motor. This mechanical rotating mechanism all relies on the interlocking gears and since one is plastic it will be eaten up by the brass coated one. Thanks China!

I wonder if I can find or make a replacement gear from metal.

Sober Blues

Music improvised in the van is one of my great pleasures and I hope this is a sign of good things to come as there's a change in the weather and El Conquistador is gazing toward the horizon and wondering what is on the other side of that hill.

Wednesday, July 2, 2014


"Obviously Fucking Bull Shit."

The abbreviation of American life continues and I'm not concerned or troubled as much as I am about the fate of these dental floss picks flooding our oceans. But for the purposes of this rant I will pretend to care deeply.

SCOTUS: This abbreviation angers and repulses me. Like POTUS, this makes it easier for ill-informed voters to pretend to know what they are talking about. SCOTUS means "Supreme Court Of The United States." POTUS means "President Of The United States"
What kind of asshole can not type or say The President or The Supreme Court? The context will reveal of what country you are talking about so the rest is irrelevant. But it bothers me in general that SCOTUS sounds like a disease or maybe a Soviet Union Food Growing Campaign...when it's really just a court. So have some respect and say Supreme Court...even if those assholes consistently betray their intent by voting politically like Fox News has bought them all nice condos in the Bahamas.

Tuesday, July 1, 2014

busco novia

Hola que busco novia
Para traer a estados unidos
Soy hombre trabajador y sin vicios
Busco algo serio
I found this ad in the Mexican Craigslist for some reason in the "For Sale" section. The loneliness of and starkness cries out to me. I feel the pain and I can actually translate this without help since it's by a second language writer. I think it is the making of a sad song, like a dying bird on his final nest singing for a mate who will never come...but at least he's honest. 
It says, 
"Hello I am looking for a girlfriend.
To bring to the United States
I am a working man without vices
I am seriously looking (I am looking for something serious)
Thank you."

Who said romance was dead? 
This sounds like a Mexican love ballad. The back pages of Forbes Magazine are filled with "Millionaire Singles Matchmaking" services that repulse me with their Yale psuedo-pimp vocabulary. But this man beats everything with honesty and loneliness there in his quiet double wide trailer, a semi driver, maybe, who is never home, always on I-40 between Oklahoma City and Albuquerque. The bars of his small town being worn by the cracked heels of all the pretty women time has ravaged. He doesn't have the money to meet a millionaire. He inspires me to write a song about him...but the heat of the Texas July has descended and my DC powered fan failed the other night. I feel adventure calling and his song may not be completed soon.
I hope he finds a Mexican woman to fill his nights with love.
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Man in the Van by Oggy Bleacher is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 3.0 Unported License.