Mama didn't pick me out the best "border crossing" clothes for today. And I guess I had gotten so used to wearing the mushroom cloud t-shirt that I didn't think to change it. The guard mostly cast suspicion on the 239 PU + 238 U equating a mushroom cloud. I didn't get into a debate on this topic but casual research reveals it to be basically true. At least for a T-shirt.
"Most modern nuclear weapons utilize 238U as a "tamper" material (see nuclear weapon design). A tamper which surrounds a fissile core works to reflect neutrons and to add inertia to the compression of the Pu-239 charge. "
But, you know, fuck it. If America stands for anything it is wearing a mushroom cloud on your chest and red, white, and blue suspenders and you got Abe Lincoln in your pocket (like every politician) and I'm not going to be like every other toady who tries to clean up so he doesn't offend the guards. No matter what I wear they're going to go through all my shit. So what is the point? I could wear my Bin Laden headband or a "Reagan for President" Pin and it doesn't matter. I've got LIVE FREE OR DIE on my van, for god's sake. I'm not harmless but I'm not a threat either...at least not in any way that Nathaniel Hale or Paul Revere would disapprove of. Hell, the USA is home of the asshole with a gold-plated opinion and I'm no exception. After hearing my opinion of Apple Corp. the border guard asked if I thought Steve Jobs was the Anti-christ I said, "No, but Hannah Montana is...and let me tell you why." I think that was part of the reason Canada denied me entry last year. I went through the same crossing where that pretty Canadian officer was working who tossed me out of the country but she wasn't working this afternoon. Should I wait to say hello and give her roses? hahahaha
The jury is still out on the present condition of America. Since I'm back on American soil I've got to be extra careful not to get injured because health care is still unresolved. "What do you do for a living, Mr Bleacher?" "I'm looking for work in the mushroom cloud industry." "You've come to the right place. Welcome to America."
"If you could see me now.
The one who said that he would rather roam
the one who said he'd rather be alone
if you could only see me now."
I always get myself on stage with a guitar in hand and the faces of the audience dimly lit and my mind goes completely blank. What key is that song in? How do I form a D chord? It's not stage fright as much as lack of practice. When you go 15 months between performances, there isn't much chance to get used to being thrust from a freezing van in a strange town, dirty clothes, looming transmission problems, no job, no money, starving, onto a stage of Dick's Jamboree with Leroy and the Boys as a backup band and lots of white haired Canadian heads in front of you. Baffled expressions. They've never seen a man with this much hair wearing a cowboy hat.
"Good evening," I say. "My name is Oggy."
polite applause
"Thank you."
deadly silence.
I want the experience and yet I am surprised every time the applause stops and everyone expects me to perform. They have no idea and nor do they care that my very presence on the stage has been an insane performance. No, they want an encore and that's when my mind goes blank. I know songs? What are the lyrics? The chords? Christ, why am on this stage with a guitar? Do these people know I live in a 1969 van with a woodstove? Do they care I'm trying to save the arctic wolf?
That's when Merle Haggard comes to the rescue. All you need to know to get off an running is one chord. D. And one line: "We don't smoke Marijuana in Muskogee..."
That's my do or die "emergency song". And by the end of that line the audience was mine and I remembered what the hell I was doing. After the set I was signing autographs. "I absolutely loved your voice." which wasn't hard to believe after listening to the performers I followed who had Loretta Lynn and Charley Pride turning over in their graves.
I again cursed the lack of film crew that would enable me to really put on the Oggy show with bellbottoms and wolf slide show. I even wrote an alternate version of "Bangladesh" by George Harrison that would be perfect as a spoof song for these jamborees.
"Arctic wolf. arctic wolf
the climate is changing and his world will go poof
we're killing him for no reason our crime is a sin
don't let apple and hannah montana win!"
But no, I have to stick with real songs and have everyone shake my hand. The point is to get thrown out of the jamboree. That's what makes good drama but none of if would be on camera since I've asked a person politely to hold the camera for me and it's the first thing that would get dropped when I call everyone a wolf killer.
It's hopeless and I'm going to work at Jiffy Lube.
"How may I help you? Oil change? We've got a special on transmission flushes this week...synthetic oil? No problem."
I'll post those videos and watch my readership drop to zero. We get what we deserve.
Due to CIA sabotage, I just lost the text to a long essay I wrote to sum up this wolf howl but I'll attempt to reconstruct it.
First, I opened with a question: does it do any good to donate money toWildlife defenders and other non-profit groups who basically use money to enable them to live and operate while lobbying Congress to enforce wolf-friendly laws. This seems futile to me. Firstly, because the wolves are last on the food chain of this money and their extinction from North America is about as likely to be reversed as everyone putting recyclables in the right bucket.
I compared this to the lobster relocation program in North Sydney, Nova Scotia, where lobsters are being moved out of the path of a harbour dredger...and relocated to safe spots...where native lobster fishermen are picking them right back out of the water. Canada has a long history of relocating people, communities, houses, moose, caribou, salmon, Indians, Eskimos, and now lobsters. If it sounds crazy it is because it is crazy and sounds good on paper alone. "The lobsters are in the way of the harbour dredge." "Let's move the lobsters." "Ok."
This led me to compare the futility of everything to the fossil cliffs which are 300 million years old. Joggins fossil cliffs is on the Bay of Fundy and the 50 ft. tide almost swallowed me up as I fled through the tidal marsh. It was also humbling because 300 million equals 25 trillion high tides...all of which made the stratigraphy you see here. This isn't that rare but in 1800 when Charles Lyell went hunting for exposed rock there were no railroads and no highway throughcuts and no industrial machinery so it had to be natural. Each tiny 2 cm layer of sandstone being the work of many thousands of years as the weight of multiple glacial epochs compacts the sand eroded from huge mountains. Add some plate shifting and buckling of the terrane and some microsaurs who died cowering inside tree trunks and you have a UNESCO site where fossil hounds go to see old lizard legs. Somewhere in there I casually said that the ocean was slowly becoming too polluted to support life, and it would eventually shift to a deadly level of acidity and then the condoms and discarded balloons and detergent containers that drift in huge areas would become encased in volcanic ash as the temperature turns furnace-hot and only cold-blooded animals could survive by hibernating in mud.
Ah, I had not reached my concluding statement, which, if the CIA will not delete my post, is this: Ethics is like air in a balloon; it is obvious that it is there until you pop the balloon to make sure. Then the balloon is empty and you feel cheated. Was there any there to begin with? Why are we obligated to accommodate the wolf and cousins of the wolf? It makes no sense. The wolf would not accommodate us if he were to dominate the land. Coming upon the wasted Oggy corpse, a wolf would not take the skull and put it on a wooden stake and announce "This land is sacred. We need to introduce other Oggy-like creatures." No, the wolf has no codependent inclinations. But the wolf does not hunt arctic hares and mice into extinction. There is a balance and I think the balance comes from the absence of Apple and Disney marketing campaigns. See, the propaganda tactics used since 1900 to deceive and control the masses are currently at their most effective summit. It's a two-front war of ideological control: 1. Confuse and Amuse . People should be entertained by dancing fat people. Their gadgets should be a source on non-stop grief. 2. Values should be taught by fake people on screens. When in doubt, simply tell people what they should think.
So, I don't necessarily blame anyone for believing the lies. We're like the Lollipop kids They were born into captivity and didn't know what to believe. Someone told them the Wizard was powerful and the witch was evil. I don't think any of that was true but when you are born in captivity then you don't have much to go on. Maybe that is it. We are all born into captivity, like the wolves in the zoo. They think the train is a tone deaf cousin of theirs and they are trying to teach him to howl correctly. Years of this futile effort has not stopped them from trying.
It relates to how we raise kids. Mostly, I watch parents try to teach their kids not to waste, to eat their food, not to hit, to ask nicely, to be polite. And all this basically ends up being subverted by Apple and Disney. Marketing executives have whole seminars on "How to get children to whine more effectively." And these are smart people and they'll have your kids undivided attention for much longer than you will...so they win. They tell your kid they are born into captivity and the witch is evil and the wizard is powerful. None of this is true, but they will win by sheer perseverance and effective campaigning. McDonalds and Tim Horton sell food that is absolutely disgusting but people flock to them. Cigarettes cause cancer but people smoke. Does the best President always get elected? So, I think western culture is, in its nature, one of Lollipop Kids and flash frozen chicken flavored wheat patties stuffed in a pretty package. I resent it. I don't want to be a Lollipop Kid. And what hope is there for the wolf in that environment? None. Like trying to ride your bicycle in a car dominated city. It's pointless. The wolf has been a device these past few years to explore and deconstruct the Lollipop Kid paradigm because to discuss the arctic wolf is not in the Lollipop Kid's vocabulary. And once you learn to discuss the arctic wolf then you are no longer a Lollipop Kid. That's my theory, at least. For the most part everyone has failed. The gravity of Disney and Reality television and Walmart is stronger than the gravity of the arctic wolf and Oggy's quest to find him. And that's a statement about pop culture's grip on the intellect of America. Obviously, we would not support a criminally imperialist government if we were a peace loving folk. These are lies we tell ourselves so we can rest before the anti-depressant wears off and the sleeping pill kicks in. Or, more accurately, those are the lies Apple whispers to us in our sleep, to tell ourselves later on...
I try to rectify the abuse of resources and think, "It's all for the advancement of human comfort..." but then I see the supermarkets placed so far out of reach and the trucking of frivolous dog toys and disposable automobiles. Where does that fit in? Nowhere. It's pure marketing for profit. Short term goal. Buy low, sell high. But if that's true then only a tiny fraction of the resources are being used to further the effort to find alternative energy sources. And since it's a race against time then the critical energy sources we are wasting now, the lizard lips and Jurassic cactus coal, will be needed later...and won't be there...which means none of this has any grand plan at all. And that leads me back to the Lollipop Kids.
Here is a prime time version of the legendary Sexy Chicken Manifesto.
You can view it in full screen by hunting and pecking that arrow icon on the lower right corner of the screen.
The subsequent versions of this will probably appear on current tv, a web site devoted to frivolous videos. It's a minor miracle that the footage I captured on St. Patrick's Day was enough to edit anything coherent. In fact, this video is the only coherent thing produced by that day. Everything else is a dizzy blur. The lame thing about this is the resolution is bad. There's nothing I can do about that.
Fortunately, Ken's and my instincts were enough to get by and a few hours slicing off my camera goofs and bloopers (there might be a blooper reel if I'm motivated) was enough to mine the two hours worth of footage for 9 minutes of meaningful discourse on chickens.
If it weren't for the cool-headed chicken farmer and his audible and enunciated narrative this would not have worked. My own natural voice is incoherent except when I perform little skits. It took a lot of tiny slicing on the audio to remove most traces of my voice.
Experience is the best way to get experience. You can't talk about making movies or dream about it. You have to find a way to make it. I felt this project had value, that the resulting video would be "Great" but when I was filming it I had serious doubts deadened by vodka and orange juice. Not only would the video not be great it wouldn't even get finished. Then the tape sat in the camera for two weeks because I had no way to put it on my computer. When I finally got the right firewire card my computer was too slow to edit the footage. But persistence paid off.
I remember seeing pictures of Ken's chickens last year and thinking I'd like to make some kind of visual tribute to those chickens. Partly to give myself a goal and partly because I think the chicken holds the key to reconnecting with our natural habitat. Give me Toyota's marketing budget and I would put a chicken coop in every backyard.
here's the video again from the blogger upload. there's no full screen option so I've demoted it down here.
Now for the daily rant:
Morals don't shift but cultural bullies are running an aggressive smear campaign against sustainable living. Reliance on technology is not imperative, unless your wealth is tied to a majority share of Microsoft stock. If it is then you must convince consumers of their relative worthlessness when lacking the latest tech product. If you don't succeed in translating luxuries into necessities then your wealth will wither. Advertising can be recognized by infants as soon as they can focus and become the #1 stimuli in a human's life right down to the logo on the blood thinner you're taking in your death bed. That's no accident. The smartest, most driven people in the world understand that in order for wealth to be controlled people's images of themselves must be controlled and what you see on television is an attack on self determination. Now that tech products have actually become necessities the leash is getting shorter. If you are like me then you are surrounded by copper wires that snake through your life in black and white tangled nests. Who invited them here?
It's not the government's job to censor the tsunami of information. The Puritans had a new continent to escape to. We don't have that luxury so our defenses will have to be within our own minds.
I believe individual people are intuitively smart and economical. But cultures can easily run amok like ours has done. The only way to turn it around is to think for yourself. Long live the chicken!
