Tuesday, January 10, 2017

Trying to Survive

I don't have much time to elaborate on the chaos that ensued after the Walmart police kicked me out of the parking lot for hunting rabbit and trying to build a log cabin from scrap pallet wood. They said they had security video footage of me with an open bottle of wine chasing a rabbit with a hatchet and I said, "I can explain that..." I argued that my rights as a sovereign citizen were being infringed and was escorted off. I have voicemail recordings of Jim pleading for help but it's complicated to get them uploaded and also sad, maybe illegal. We both got kicked out...and the first night I spent on the street happened to coincide with a gang of 'air duster' huffing addicts burglarizing a nearby building, which of course led to my being surrounded by local police and targeted for harassment and a polite beat down in the dark. That led to my getting out of town into some ghost villages where silver and Anthracite had been mined...and some complications that I can't elaborate on. There was a PTSD veteran who had work an ISIS patch during his pre-combat heat trauma...or maybe it was his fantasy. Armed to the teeth to prepare to defend earth from alien invasion. dozens of rifles and dying cats. drugs. wax. oils. broken vehicles. stray children. worse than a Serbian slum. this is the step below a Walmart parking lot and the police pushed me in that direction. I resisted and fled.

Another refugee of post-freedom America
 The disease of America has no cure but extinction and that will arrive soon enough. The important thing that I now advocate is having your own agenda and sticking to it. Do not think that opposition is an agenda. No. Opposition is a vacuum that feeds the thing that is opposed. Build an agenda, an army, a better device to huff air duster gases. whatever. It makes no difference. have an agenda and stick to it. That is what makes consumerism so successful: The mission is to condition people to shop and consume and devour and produce. That is a big agenda but it keeps a lot of people busy and it is working.

Classic consumer conditioning targeting helpless children. No attempt to disguise their evil intent. Only a diseased culture would allow this.

I wandered the tortured Apache land. Geronimo tried to fight this invasive species and lost, humiliated, captured and caged like an animal. Cochise cursed this land before he died and was buried near here, he said it would never have peace and many of the locals believe his curse is still working. They say the land is cursed.
Oggy in Apache Land. Yes, the sky is that blue.

I have my own agenda and maybe the spell has been broken by this recent police whipping. Broken lonely hearts scatter the desert and I hope mine has been abandoned to some dark cave. Iraq Vets are homeless and living in vans in parking lots or else eating thrift store canned food and Salvation Army sandwiches. PTSD is no joke. You hang out with some PTSD folks for a few days and you'll think the lunatic asylum is normal. War fucks shit up and the lip service of the V.A. might work for anyone else but a PTSD victim is not anyone else and they have short fuses. We found a 30mm artillery shell in the desert near the base. The guy said it was still live and when fired from a helicopter would arm itself by spinning and that lights a fuse that explodes on impact. He leaped up in bare, bleeding feet and smashed it violently on the rocks nearby as I dove for cover behind the van, cutting my knee on a cactus branch. He smiled with spittle collecting at the corner of his whiskered mouth, vile teeth, halitosis to melt steel. The shell did not explode and the neighbor yelled, "What the fuck, don't destroy shit!" I was shaking. Then he took a long string of rusty nails and lashed his arms with them until they bled. Three people came out to demonstrate how they would use their Russian sniper rifles to defend their houses from zombie attack. stray cats shit in front of the depleted mail boxes. Everyone is smoking (dabbing) pot or hash oil, drinking beers, shooting rifles, laughing as they pretend to play Russian Roulette. Someone says, "Oggy, I want to kill my pet snake and make a leather belt from him. Can you help?" We are watching his snake eat a rat but because power has been turned off to the house for non-payment of bill the snake's stomach is distended because it can not digest the last rat it ate. I am trying to concentrate on killing zombies in an Xbox game called "Deadland" I drive over a zombie's head repeatedly then accidentally kill a human survivor. Someone has dropped a glass bong behind me that shatters on the filthy floor. A rifle falls from the poorly mounted brackets on the wall and breaks a glass aquarium holding poisonous jelly fish. Fresh and dry old Shit from two poodles covers every square inch of the living room where a kid is trying to start a fire using stolen wood and newspaper rolls from the local paper. There is only power for the xbox because he has hacked the outlet of the meth kitchen next door. But instead of putting electricity to the hot water heater he powers the television so he can get stoned and watch animated musicals. If there is a worse situation than a frozen Walmart parking lot then Oggy will surely find it.

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