Monday, April 23, 2018


More panographic copy and pasting to feature the Sonoran Desert.

Thursday, April 19, 2018


I think this assembled panorama will be too big to fit on the page. It's an unusual place that I won't name to keep it a mystery. They fought over this pass, bled for access to the slow dribble of water from the wounded spring nearby, railroad engineers studied the land, 16 years of armies and tribes and graves and the bones of cattle bleaching under the merciless sun. And finally, the railroad is laid to the north, the pass is not needed, there are other water sources, the tribes become ghosts, the tombstones crumble, the barracks and quartermaster cabin and Victorian officer's house deteriorate before the wind and are turned back into soil. This land that was once sacred turned into strategic position, then forgotten landmark for mail coaches and then into disputed history and then back into preserved ruins that one must hike to reach on an trail empty save for rattlesnakes and crows. No flag flies on the pole, it was never owned by anyone and the land is indifferent to deed claims. Those are human realms and insignificant. The Buddha said that if you sit beside a river long enough you will see your enemies pass by, blended with the molecules of water.

Monday, April 2, 2018

Found Poetry

If one reads social media threads randomly, and then takes a response out of context, the words become a poem that hold secrets on the reader has brought to the table. Observe...

all I did was run to the store for milk
poof. You were gone.

Sweet dreams buddy.

Escaped Calif. Fire help its Cold in Utah 
Starting over help..
Propane help. 
Warm Clothing.
Dog Food. 
RV space help. 
We evacuated at 4am with Pjs and RV. 
With problems Lost 10 acres in Nevada City Ca.. 
Made it out alive..
But need pointed in the right direction..
Can repay any help recieved waiting for Insurance.
 I havent asked for help til now. 
I havent showered 
in a week.. 
I dont have anything but my word 
Id to show my address and authenticity..
Im a Grandma with a little dog trying to stay warm 
in this Un Winterized RV..
I am very thankful for your time 

yes, I thank God for chickens that make those
Easter egg hunts possible. 
Thank you God for the chickens and all the other eatable animals. 

Self flagellation is quite popular

(As a side note, I will not reveal the specific forums these comments came from because that provides context. But I will pass along this Easter-friendly anecdote. I visited the "Trying to Conceive" forum...because I thought the comments, taken out of context, will be revealing, human...honest...maybe sad, but human. I was thinking in my private Oggy moment that when humanity is reeling from political abuse and self flagellation, when things look most terrible, THAT is the moment we fuck like bunnies. Yes, we fuck. and sometimes conceive...and life begins anew and once the life begins some of us bounce back from our pessimism and become optimistic for the new life, living through the new life...seeing old things as new. Yes. It's honest and human and I thought those comments would reveal something...and perhaps it did. What I found in the "Trying to Conceive" forum were dozens of people commenting about trying to conceive, and a few who wrote horrible and nasty comments mocking the other people trying to conceive. Such as "You're better off child-less." or "You can't have babies because God cursed you." At first I was repulsed that someone would take their time to find an anonymous forum about conception and defile it with mockery and insults...yes, that repulsed me initially and then I went for a walk and started to laugh at the perfection. This mockery is the trigger that makes people yearn for connection and forgetting the world, the mockery. They seek new life to replace the foul trolls who have become so poisoned they are anonymously posting their poison. But it's the trigger that spells their doom because their mockery is the symbol of what people are fucking to forget and some have babies, some even wanted to have the babies before they fucked. But some will live with the status quo. All fled the filth that is encrusted under the national fingernails, all fled to the bedroom or the couch or backseat and thus the new generation arises from the ashes of the present dreams. That's my fantasy when I self-flagellate.)
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Man in the Van by Oggy Bleacher is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 3.0 Unported License.