Rochester Fair

I wanted so much to share with you the video of the Rochester Fair but instead I have a picture of Dave grinding down screws in the roof of my van after we installed an escape hatch. I don't know what has meaning anymore. I want to catch leaves as they fall from the trees and dip my feet in a cold pond instead of driving into Portsmouth with the Navy Yard traffic wearing a dust mask too protect my bleeding lungs from the clouds of fiberglass dust now in my van.
It's impossible to do everything. Did I mention that NTB tires managed to fuck my alignment up worse than the mexican dirt roads that pulverized it. I pay for an alignment and get two busted tires and a front wheel camber bad enough to make Jeff Petty moan around the third corner.
I can't remember anything anymore so I will include this video as an explanation to why I am living this way. Hopefully I can refer to it when my memory fails completely.

I wanted to post this video so much that I went back outside and brought the file inside so I could do this though I am hungry and tired and living at the Walmart parking lot. When will there be wifi throughout the world?

Note: The damn freakout ride video was not captured due to my sickness and disorientation when flying sideways and spinning horizontally 50 ft in the air. I failed to capture the video of the chicken man with a sadness deeper than the Mariana Trench. There is one picture that made it. Enjoy!

60 hours

It's a double edged sword. I save some money for the Labrador/Guatemala fund but breathing fiber optic dust and fiberglass renovation debris has my health declining faster than the Freak Out at the Roachester Fair. Which will die first; me or the van?

I worked 20 hours overtime this week which might pay for the drag link on my van or a facial peel for the fiberglass rash that keeps me up at night rubbing my skin raw. At night I see blurs of fiber optics and 22 AWG winchester pins. This is a pace at which the only time people don't show up are when they never show up again. Vietnamese slaves are pushed to their limit and then cast out with the dirty diapers from the day care for the future electronics assemblers. That is a reality. Ants in a dark cave feverishly assembling their ingenious appliances so they may better watch their lives digitally succumb to Steve Jobs's Utopian illusion. Maybe I'll get on a second life game and allow myself to run on auto pilot with the simple directive to get to Labrador. At least I can have a digital avatar make it to the Arctic wolf lair because the gout in my neck is spreading to my cancerous lungs and the chances of getting to the arctic circle fade with each piece of cracker crisp fried dough I ingest.

Does the Indonesian karaoke singer I work with complain? I don't know since I can't understand him. He suffers and limps after only one week and he is a young child with a face like a baby's. The last lady they hired ruptured her appendix and never came back. We plod on and the bags under our eyes can store our cold lunches. I bought two pounds of frozen ham and eat it with my mercury covered fingers at the table, fat dripping from my mustache. I have no excuse to quit but I'd like them to fire me. When I master this job I will immediately apply for an entry level line cook position at the 99 restaurant. The Quebec copper mine has not returned my calls but the Now or Never media on court street has expressed interest in the wolf documentary so I go in next week. I'll video record the whole thing to demonstrate my level of commitment and to impress them with my camera presence.

This trip will start one day and will obliterate all the past craziness. The zoo at the fair today made me realize the futility of influencing the world. I couldn't get the kids to wear their hats straight or to stop smoking cancer sticks let alone to recycle or fuck with a rubber on their herpie sore cocks. So, forget it. I want to see Labrador for myself. And that's it. Let the chips fall where they may. I was crippled in Alaska and veered from my chosen fate of being a Park Ranger, I read Hermann HEsse and Kerouac and fell in love with story telling and philosophy. I am content seeking contentment and when I am least content is when the rut finally covers me up and disguises my individuality into a blank slate no one recognizes including myself. There will be no wolf or guitar shows or books to tell the tale. There is only another crimp and the deadly prostate finger rooting in my ass for the disease that will kill me. The bulls at the fair await death with a nylon rope attached to their nose. The alpaca are skinny but their fur grows only when they are alive so they are kept living with hay to make hats and socks. I'd like to weave an alpaca hat to wear in Labrador.

It's past my bedtime and my feet are swollen like a roast pig. Another chapter begins tomorrow. A week ago this year I was in Colorado trying to drive to Labrador via St. Louis. Review last year's posts if you missed it. I guess I've got time if I wasn't in NH until October.

Sand Man

Wallis Sands

"Hey, Beavis, it says "Butts." Heh. Heh heh.

Walmart Parking Lot

Some multi media events of the parking lot at walmart. It is as much acreage as my neighborhood growing up. Absolutely insane that people would allow that to be a parking lot. There must be a spare planet I don't know about because we are treating this one like a parts bike in a junkyard.

Oggy's Impromptu Environmental Syllogism

1) Catholic prohibition of birth control mathematically guarantees a population of militant evangelical bible thumpers. If mankind were the only casualty I would not be concerned. It is the wolf that I am trying to protect.

2) The strong will survive. Yes. But the strong evil men will prevail if strong good men do nothing. That means a world without Arctic wolves. This is unacceptable to me. The enemy of the Arctic wolf is my enemy.

3) I think corporate media is the number one threat to the Arctic wolf. The disinformation and objectification of humanity is manufacturing drones for future wars against nature including wolves. Only a brainwashed person would casually act in a way that is destructive to the habitat of the wolf. That brainwashing is done by corporate media including the Catholic church, Hannah Montana the whore of Disneyland, et al.

4) Corporate media can only be suffocated by an extremely powerful alliance of tree huggers and radicals. This alliance starts with you! It will be uncomfortable to suggest the media is a brainwashing weapon but that is only because EVERYONE IS BRAINWASHED. The media is a brainwashing weapon. That's what it does. Make no mistake. You aren't crazy. All the facts point to this conclusion except for the lies the media itself spreads in its favor. There is the brain your mother gave you and then there is the brain that Barney, McDonalds and Hannah Montana gave you. The two are totally different.

5) Resist any message that the mainstream media feeds you. It probably bears no resemblance to the truth. What you see in front of you is true. This is why I must find the wolf to report on its status myself.

Here's an interesting counter-media site that informs about something I was recently discussing, the Solar panels that Carter put on the white house in 1978, that Reagan tore out in 1986.
http://putsolaron.it/road-trip/2010
/09/10/bills-oped-in-the-washington-post-walking-into-wh-meeting-now/

And here is a video they made to address the climate change that my whole wolf summit meeting hinges on. See, the delicate climates will change first. If you are hanging out at the Belagio pool and think, "Life is good." then you are an asshole. Of course life is good in the desert next to a resort. But take your head out of your ass and ponder what life is like in the arctic. If climate change fucks the habitat of the wolf up then I'm going to take a fucking machine gun and change the climate of The Belagio poolside. That's just how it's going to go down so drink your fruity fag drink fast and cash in your chips, you worthless philistine.