Updates from June, 2009 Toggle Comment Threads | Keyboard Shortcuts

  • hardie karges 8:34 am on June 30, 2009 Permalink | Reply  

    I just want to be normal. 

    I just want the white picket fences surrounding me, a blue sky overhead, green grass and black dirt underneath, and an old yellow dog leading the way. I just want the straight and narrow, a small circle of friends, three squares a day, and an almighty pentagon to watch over me. I need no golden triangles nor elaborate hexes, no jinxes nor jousts nor old hags to vex me. I just need some peace, love, and understanding. The eagle flies on Friday; the halcyon lands on Sunday. Some day soon everything will be calm and peaceful, fruit for the picking and firewood for the taking. I could pass on the free ‘Bubble-Up’, but some rainbow stew sounds good.

     
  • hardie karges 9:59 pm on June 29, 2009 Permalink | Reply  

    Screaming flesh haunts my world, 

    simply because it’s there, acknowledging an existence beyond itself as superior to its own, knocking at the door that leads to another dimension. Cutting edges, metal on flesh, attempt to mitigate the costs of consciousness, lessen the burden of personality, delete all memory by re-booting, gamble that dying from one world is being born into another. I just try to stay one step ahead of the forces that would consume me, my self. Self is the main cause of selfishness, the main obstacle to love. Lose your self and find the path; the path of righteousness leads toward the light.

     
  • hardie karges 8:45 am on June 28, 2009 Permalink | Reply  

    The succubus comes by night, taking what she needs 

    and leaving the rest for another day or another lay, the witch wearing a wig and wielding a whip, sucking me into submission with ignorance and favors, sixty-nine flavors, and magic spells to boot. She can spell the clothes off of a man, though she can’t even spell her own name, because she has none. She comes in darkness, uses me for her own selfish ends, and then leaves by the first light of dawn. What do nocturnal emissions say about sex? Does the discharge create the pictures that ultimately justify its existence or do the pictures create the discharge? Is it an electrical discharge or purely hydraulic? Was that really my next-door neighbor baring her soul to me despite a thousand previous unanswered entreaties, or was it the ghost of Christmas past coming in to haunt me uninvited?

     
  • hardie karges 4:29 pm on June 27, 2009 Permalink | Reply  

    I am two people, gagged and bound, beside myself, 

    just waiting to see what my other half will do. One more and I could be a trinity, the Triple Gem, pontificating endlessly on matters of no importance. As it is, I’m reduced to endless duals with my self, a triple Gemini with the head of a bull, debating all the great issues and fighting all the important wars of history right here in my inner chamber of secrets. The president in me is an asshole, stern and overbearing, a national socialist to the core. The congress is chicken shit, scared to death of the unknown. To be “of two minds” about something is a way of life for me. Sometimes the bill never gets out of congress due to the filibustering activities of one party or another. Somehow the two houses of congress agree to disagree and we manage to wobble forward on all fours plodding our way through life.

     
  • hardie karges 11:07 pm on June 25, 2009 Permalink | Reply  

    Four walls of plaster, four walls of flesh, 

    framework of wood, framework of bone; all the great battles of history were fought right here within these walls. These are the wars to end all wars, fights to the finish, struggles unto death all laid bare to the mind’s eye, the mind’s penis a hapless foot-soldier supplying raw material to the front lines of this war between competing moral equivalent proxies—life, death, fear, hope. The battle of the bulge never really ends. World War III never really begins, Trojan horses promenading in all directions.

     
  • hardie karges 10:15 pm on June 23, 2009 Permalink | Reply  

    To reflect is human, to shine is divine. 

    While my dear is caught in the headlights of passing observers, quick with an opinion, slow with critique, I myself see myself all by myself reflected in a thousand tiny mirrors, my own judgmental eyes turned inside out, shining light into the darkest corners of my fortress personality. There are only two diseases from which all others derive- fear and ignorance. Fear of success is the hardest because success itself is illusive. I work myself to death for something that scares me to death. Strength comes from within, the inner strength of experience and discipline. Strength comes from without, the strength of nothingness, the strength of an individual warrior aligned in a synchronous way with the given universe, nature and culture holding hands under the moonlight, naked and trembling. The internal dialog is both blessing and curse, a constant companion who’s always there whether I like it or not. Feelings connect to feelings, the people behind them hidden by the interface. Emotions wear sunglasses to soften the glare and project a fashionable image for public consumption. I miss the home I never had, but that’s the hand I was dealt, I’m afraid. Loneliness is my best friend, there whenever I call, loyal to the end. Live every moment like it’s the last, because it is.

     
  • hardie karges 9:27 am on June 22, 2009 Permalink | Reply  

    It’s a fine line we tread, 

    the thin green area between heavenly blues and Hellish reds, fire and ice, void and chaos. One wrong step and our world returns to from where it came, a mathematical probability waiting for a magician or a Messiah to pull it all back together. Even on a good day, we’re only moments away from our own extinction. It takes a lot of effort to build up a civilization and very little to tear it down, which will eventually happen simply because it is THERE. The losers always win by the law of social entropy, village communism, petty jealousy. This is doctrine for hackers and fundamentalists. The Luddites and hackers unite in their disgust toward social progress.

     
  • hardie karges 4:36 am on June 20, 2009 Permalink | Reply  

    The suspense is killing me, hanging by my suspenders, 

    by the thread of my own imagination, the interminable distance between two points waiting to be traversed, knowing that if I’m lucky, I’ll still only get half-way there. The waiting is almost the hardest part, time being the minor dimension in the human portion of the space-time continuum. At least time is a dimension reconciled by mind, modern and digital, while space still insists on doing everything the old-fashioned analog way, moving points and lines and Euclidean surfaces around turn-tables and time-tables and hoping for the best. Maybe anticipation is the true middle path, moving perpetually along multiple paths of fulfillment but never totally arriving, always striving for the next goal. Boredom is the most insidious enemy of modern society, dissatisfaction with the status quo no matter how high the status. Demand has a curious way of always staying one step ahead of supply. Only art can stop the insipid dialog, cease the endless dialectic. High culture is the oxygen that sets minds burning with thoughts and answers to questions that haven’t even been asked yet. If causality is a casualty of the negotiations for a cease-fire on the domestic front, then so be it.

     
  • hardie karges 9:17 pm on June 18, 2009 Permalink | Reply  

    Guilt is complex, but there’s no need to get lost in it. 

    Ultimately it’s an ego trip, to assume that your actions are at the center of events that surround you. Events have a life of their own, irrespective of your own attachment to them. I prefer guilt trips; they’re more fun. Guilt trips get a bum rap. People fail to appreciate their finer implications. They keep you honest. They work with or without a God, essentially meaning to simply do unto others as you would have them do unto you. Sounds like sex. Or if you prefer Confucius, not doing unto others what you don’t want them doing to you. Sounds like marriage. If everybody felt guilt, then there’d be no need for an omnipotent God to lower the boom of eternal damnation. There’d probably not even be a boom of eternal damnation to lower in the first place. It seems a very human need to exist in subordinate relationship to a God, and I suspect a good one, otherwise egos expand to fill every available empty space, and you know what that’s like. God is a source of endless speculation, and essentially you can make him to order. That’s the beauty of it.

     
  • hardie karges 9:25 am on June 18, 2009 Permalink | Reply  

    The categorical imperative is to create meaning in a world 

    that doesn’t necessarily have any. If that requires a god or two, then so be it, the more the merrier. I create new gods to offer myself up to in order that they might save my mortal soul. At least I did that night in Hanoi. The old quarter of Hanoi is pretty intense, or it least it was. It’s a classic shop-house district traditionally divided into streets devoted to a particular craft. The bottom level is the showroom, upper level are workrooms, then living quarters, going four or five stories up. This is the pattern now all over northern Vietnam, even in villages. It allows more efficient use of land in a country of some eighty million, a third more than Thailand, in a land area a third less then Thailand. It’s no wonder that people see under-populated and loyal disciple Laos as an escape valve. Anyway, the old quarter of Hanoi is dense, and of course, the old systems break down as backpackers move in to prepare the fields for the real tourists to come later. Many buildings are now ‘mini-hotels’.

    I get claustrophobic sometimes. Out of the window in my room I could probably have shook the hand of somebody across the street if there had been somebody there. Earlier that day I’d eaten local food in a local market, always a risky venture anywhere, but probably especially in 1996 Hanoi. Later I’d drunk some local hooch with some of the homies out on the street taking tobacco bong hits. Bad idea. To top it all off, my bed had bugs. I think. This is not the thing for a sensitive guy. I’ve got insomnia even on a good day, but that was easily the longest night of my life. I really did not expect to see the morning. My skin was crawling, my insides were crawling; my brain was crawling; the streets were crawling. Or at least that’s what it felt like. I just knew I’d die right there alone in some God-forsaken room in some God-forsaken hotel in some God-forsaken corner of the universe, unable to even get out of my bed and call for help. In reality I just had a minor case of Ho Chi Minh’s revenge and probably some bed bugs, though I never saw any. I moved to a different hotel the next day and everything was fine. But I made some promises to some gods that I’ve struggled to keep. I even created some new ones that I’d never worked with before. They’ll be around for awhile. That’s what guilt trips are for.

     
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