Inspecting the wolf quest footage I weep in weary dog tired neck brace of Oscar Peterson accentuated runs. The watercolor pixelation of my journey through Oggy Wonderland, New Foundland, Labradorland, wolf land, land of the mystery wolf, the white wolf who runs from two legged animal enemy. Syrian uprising and Iranian muscle flexing. The arc of time includes the Pre-Athenian Minots who sacrificed virgin children to the bull-man Minotaur in the Labyrinth. Is Oggy sacrificing his own inner child to the savage wolf? Is the wolf refusing to bite so Oggy wanders the labyrinth?
I was chased by a savage, feral husky dog in a place called Saint Lunaire Griquet north of St. Anthony on New Foundland where Vikings made nails from peat iron and abandoned their cove to moose and tourists. The dog surprised me as I was wandering the coastline looking at the icebergs, hunting the elusive arctic wolf. I fled on desolated knees as it snarled and chased my skinny flanks down a hill, my video camera dropping to the gravel and exploding as I unsheathed my knife in dire protective mode, the dog out for blood and Oggy's ankle turning over Viking spears, saved by war shaman's amulet provided by gypsy in Mexico. Dog abandoned chase and Oggy ate a banana and panted, his instinct for survival not totally demolished by self-inflicted delusion.
The danger signs warn us of that which is hidden by the fog. Under clear skies we wonder why go through the trouble? But short sightedness is a weakness of the sound byte families raising us on 50 minute lessons of propaganda. Save 50 cents on air fresheners, spend 30 minutes looking for parking, donate to charity, low fat cookies, wolf free mountains, apples with no animal fat, animal fat with no hormones, vaginal mesh lawsuits and birth defects do the Lambada to syncopated African Mrimba ting and plink. Stop means go. Spending means saving. Cheer your touchdown and punch your infant wolf in the muzzle.
The Icebergs of the fantasy point to the dream that is on the horizon, 80% hidden from sight, and the other 20% melting in the mercury rich climate of our ignorance.
Only Ray Bryant, an absolute futuristic alien life form transported to Earth for a few decades and allowed to perform piano, makes Oscar Peterson the second greatest pianist I've ever heard. Oscar demonstrates some musical styles here and sings like an unaffected Nat King Cole. This clip impresses me with Oscar's humility and humor besides his talent. I could watch him play piano all day long.
It's not been an easy transition to the Midwest from Labrador and I've lazily not found a piano at an old folks home to punch. Instead, I've been knuckles deep in my brakes, they've never been good and I think only the front brakes do anything at all. The brake shoes were cracked for a while and it's been a nagging project that I thought would have to wait for spring but the climate instability has worked in Oggy's favor by giving me a week of 60 degree weather to tackle. I made a resolution to be prepared. Lately, I like to translate this to: Bring a knife to a knife fight and a gun to a gunfight. My tattered past has been ruled by the grave and inexplicable motto: Bring an accordion to a gun fight. In other words, eschew preparation in favor of the absurd. I can say that this has its drawbacks. It also has many unexpected benefits that will be explored in my homeless manifesto but for now I think I have exhausted this as a practical modus operandi.
Case in Point: The Brake shoes on the 1969 Econoline. Sounds simple? It isn't. It's a gun fight. If you bring a knife to this fight you will be fucked because everyone else is bringing guns. My learning this valuable lesson at this stage in my life is evidence that I learn a particular way (trial and error) and all the useless dinner table lectures were like static on the radio. The van has been my zen master these last few years because it is the parent I never had and the child I don't have. It has no emotional investment in my travels and it does not passive-aggressively ask me for sweets on its birthday or an oil change. It cares in a healthy, self-fulfilling and Oscar Peterson "accentuate the positive" kind of way. I am its master and it is mine. We are a union of metal and membrane. I no longer swear at it. I only investigate and, in the words of NASA engineers, "work the problem". I don't cry over spilled milk. It might be the one arena in my life other than music that is not overflowing with bitterness and resentment...that is a calm oasis of constant change with which I am at peace. By comparison, I get a dirty look in the supermarket and I resent it for months.
My Econoline forum is littered with tales of "Gonna do my brakes this afternoon" followed by 11 pages of questions and answers and forum tailchasing that lasts two weeks. That might be filed under the category of "Forum users don't post when everything goes smoothly" category but I like to think it is because the brakes aren't easy to work on. There are several steps and at least one trip to a brake drum machining shop. To replace everything, including drums, It would be maybe $140 in parts and 4 hours in time if everything is in place and you aren't harassed by homeless people and drug dealers on the street or parking lot where you are doing this work.
Still I hesitated to prepare my weapons for the gun fight and figured, "I'll do the minimum." Well, I have the time for such folly so it's no big deal. I'll be posting a whole essay on this matter but the main point I want to make is that an ounce of planning and preparation goes a long way. Autozone charges 70% more for parts than online sites and they often have to order them anyway. Ex: I paid $15 for a wheel cylinder repair kit at Autozone. A BRAND NEW WHEEL CYLINDER COSTS $3 ONLINE!! Translation: Buy ahead of time. Tools made for specific procedures are manufactured so cheaply by Vietnamese slave children that they cost less than the tool you will eventually break while using them as a substitute. And they sort of work better. Translation: Buy the tools.
Now, this does not mean it will all go smoothly. If you have the time then you are advised to do these jobs yourself. Empowerment is important and it doesn't take much to be an expert on your own car. To be an expert on all cars is a task for a lifetime. Learning about your own car would take a year and $200 in tools. If you own a 1969 Econoline then you are required to do them yourself because most shops north of Mexico City will not work on your van.
I will add that because this is a 43 year old van, I also apply the rule that if it isn't broken then don't fix it. They say replace the return springs on your brakes...and that's true if you own a 1995 Saturn because the springs you buy new will be as crappy as the springs that you are replacing...only newer. On a 1969 Econoline you will find that with few exceptions everything in 1969 was built much better than in 2012. It was built to last and it has lasted and to replace it with a Vietnamese slave part is plain foolish unless it has cracked down the middle, like my brake shoes. Unless the springs are hanging like wet noodles then use them again because a 43 year old spring is still better than a brand new slave product. I might be alone in maintaining this position but it's how I justify not buying new $2 springs. Although this work still must be done on a busy street I bought some jack stands and two brake tools. The pads I had since September. The one scored drum was turned at O'Reilly's auto parts for $15. The only thing I replaced were the cotter pins on the castlelated nut holder. I'm still trying to bleed the brakes after a mishap with the wheel cylinder but they've tested OK so far.
This editing is taking so long that I'm questioning my sanity. See, ordinarily, longer is better, but when dealing with computers then longer only means slower and probably not better. My computer is so old and all the footage must be on an external drive for backup and that slows the computer down even more and editing digital footage takes forever. IT's taking so long that I've taken up macrame belt making to occupy my time while footage renders into clips and my edited shorts render into wmv. But handmade belts do mean a nicer belt while digital movies that take a long time don't mean they will be better movies. I've seen the footage and it's unusual but limited. I hope to finish my hemp and bead belt before I finish the wolf quest video. Part of my new year's resolution was to attack projects like a normal person and not bang my head against a 256mb RAM wall. But I can't justify buying a new computer when the wolf documentary tries to highlight the insanity. So I bought a used camcorder (Turns out it's an $800 camcorder that I paid $50 for. It took the picture below and even has a flash and transferred the footage to my slow computer) and will look for a newer computer at a price my budget can afford. But I also want a bass guitar...and that music software isn't cheap either. That's like $2000 right there and I haven't done a thing with it. Does anyone want to buy a hemp/bead macrame belt for $2000?
The song is by Harry Chapin. On The Road to Kingdom Come. Used without permission. Do What You Do.
Another atrocious misuse of a word. Ecosystems are related to app makers and gaming platforms only because the rare earth metals used in computing demand the destruction of ecosystems. What can you expect from the motherfucking asshole reporters/propagandists at CNN?
"But there's a lot more riding on Facebook's paperwork than wealth creation. The social network has become an entire ecosystem, supporting independent app makers and gaming platforms like Zynga (ZNGA)."
FYI: Here's a bit of real news from CNN: "How Facebook makes money -- and could make more: The vast majority of Facebook's revenue comes from advertising: a combination of search and display ads. And the sales growth is incredibly robust."
A test video for my new camera using found footage on the tape that came with the camera. There was a minor scare with the aftermarket power adapter being 2 amp instead of OEM 1.5 amp* and possibly destroying the motherboard, but it was actually the tape falling apart and not playing because the head was dirty. Note to home techs: Don't use nail polish remover on mini dv camcorders. They require dry cleaning process that basically sands the dirt off the heads.
I really must be losing my mind if this makes me laugh. Speaking of things that make me laugh...Portlandia is a series that fits my quirk factor. Reminds me of Santa Cruz. Also, PBS had a good show about Phil Ochs. Poor man took his musical activism seriously (thought it would make a difference) and watched Nixon take a giant crap on America and then Phil hung himself. Woody Guthrie took himself seriously too but had the mind of a child. Being gravely serious is dangerous. I'm going to film myself editing the wolf video because it'll be a miracle if I finish it.
*Higher amps is fine. Unit will only draw 1.5 amp. The problem is using a .5 amp power supply with OEM 1.5 amp unit. Then the draw is higher than the maximum output...and I could break the internet.
The Icebergs of the fantasy point to the dream that is on the horizon, 80% hidden from sight, and the other 20% melting in the mercury rich climate of our ignorance.
