a new life resolution...

Versus

New Years Resolution… (Because that is a short term fix and only is promoted to get everyone to buy worthless multitudes of home-gym equipment and spa memberships the same time, once a year, after a week of debauchery and gluttony)

We the family known as “The________________________” hereby strives to the following behavior modifications and/or reinforcements:

We will not—to the best of our knowledge—purchase any edible item that we have no idea as to how it is grown, processed, or stored; how it affects our bodies, the environment, and our community.

We will treat ourselves as well as others—mind and body—as organisms deserving of healthy food, a warm dry place to sleep, sustainable and meaningful work, reasonable healthcare, education, and the ability to positively contribute to the human condition. We will expect the same of all equals and specifically, more fortunate people with emphasis on social justice, shared risk, and especially shared reward.

We will not participate in or with any individual or entity or process that does not offer a fair symbiotic return toward our emotional and/or financial bottom line.

We will promote community and human oriented experiences with emphasis on the quality of the experience independent of manipulative trends and fads promoting the pursuit of profit as being the only required result.

We will make consumable purchases based on the knowledge that as a species, we are both directly and indirectly connected to the environment we inhabit, and the animal life we share that same environment with.

We will express our creative energies toward causes and policies that aim to punish individuals and dismantle institutions that promote directly or indirectly or by default destructive behavior toward humanity and the environment required for a healthy human condition.

By agreeing to the above, we believe an exponentially increased potential for the following:

THE EARTH… A REALLY NICE PLACE TO LIVE!

a digital tear end moment...

To all those who mark accented moments of accomplished time, where the relevance of starts and ends are placed as hiccups in the continuum of life flow, where reflection is as significant as projection even though projection pays more, where penance and punishments for perceived ill behavior are stamped with resolutions of self-inflicted deprivation soaked with sweat, where accumulations of bounty require critical distinguishments of what really is important and what goes in the re-gift pile, where the difference between crossroads and milestones become blurred until hyperventilation kicks in at 2am in the morning, where charitable urges pile up in apologetic mounds, and to all those who don't give a shit about any of that,


Keep fighting the good fight,
Happy New Year!

a pause...

Tumultuous pressures spin and twist, rise and drop, driven by rotations and pulls toward centers magnetically polarized, and the 6pm weatherperson and part time game show host has renewed purpose. Loosely anchored, majestic firs whose roots reach shallow, their thirst quenched quickly without need to seek further become top-heavy and topple when pushed. Prime targets of the random felling? The mediums for telemarketers, advertisers, and talking heads. Do the trees know something we don't? So went the power, phone, and cable TV lines and all of a sudden we were stunned into states of bizarre reverse sensory deprivation. A tear in the fabric of our particular 24/7 bombardment and the white noise ceased; a hiccup in the continuum and suddenly we could hear things... like each other. And the point of the 6pm weatherperson and part time game show host's validity became moot.

So a scheduled neighborhood Christmas party occurred regardless and the ones that showed up did so out of curiosity. A party without electricity, without heat, without phones, without a ballgame on the TV in the background, without internet, and what would there possibly be to do? Three hours later, when the electricity surged back into life, with our bellies full of food warmed on woodstoves and wine chilled on the deck, and conversations of life in full swing, it was decided by the consensus of a collective moan to keep the stove stoked, the candles burning, and the light switches pointing downward. The only hint of reconnected convenience... a microwave clock flashing in desperate need of a reset.

We wait with baited breath for the next such hiccup in the continuum. Less debris and damage to home and hearth would be most appreciated though.

...pass us the bottle, Santa.

no cholesterol...

I'm pondering vegetable oil for fuel. I have a 65 GMC pickup that would be prime for the conversion. I wonder if I were to douse myself with cooking oil, could I accidentally set myself on fire? Will I smell like french fries? Will dogs follow me? I'm having problems finding a diesel that fits.

headless-line news...

A vein bursts, a bleeding fills gaps, creates pressures, and more than one synapse flood becoming numb, non-functional, maybe just distorted. The owner of this undeserved anomaly lies critical in Idaho. The balance of who gets what and when is teetering again. The voters spoke and proclaimed the direction of their lean. Will the opposite ideal invoke a repeal, following party lines and override a collective will for political expedience... most likely.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/americas/6178065.stm


A troupe de jour, a tour de force, and are we there to plead, to leverage? Uncle Ben, where is our dollar and do you care? It appears you want it to go lower. And who pulls your strings? Does China now own us? Will they gorge on our devalued lunch? Will OPEC buy and sell with Euros and will our banks respond with a recessive dump? The stock market is giving you the hairy eyeball. Our retirement is at stake. Do you need a loan? ...Such a sticky-wicket.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/business/6176593.stm


A black man dies, sporadic intensive moments complete with projectiles that penetrate glass and flesh, and it was all deemed the momentum of the moment. A death pronounced by guilt of association. Coulda, woulda, shoulda; and now its time to scramble, defend the process, maintain credibly, and white-wash—literally. And the same cry that have always cried.
http://www.democracynow.org/article.pl?sid=06/12/14/1458233

a pacific northwest drip...

I live with many free thinking, free spirited, patriotically challenged, religiously void life-jesters here in and around the delta, scattered in-between the tributaries of the Skagit, peppering the hillsides, or burrowed into micro valleys. They are my friends; spirits entwined, layered, and folded within this realm where aboriginal and Norse lore meld amongst the mists sent inland by salted surges.

Under low-canopies of moistures dense with nourishment, we sing songs of reason; songs of desire, songs of collaboration, cohabitation, and cooperation. Our instruments are stringed, syringed, brushed, molded, sewed, welded, and micro-processed; polished and presented for critique. We all ask the same questions, “Do you see what I see?” “Do you feel what I feel?” “Is anyone out there?”

We are armored anti-warriors, equipped with the courage of dissent. Yet the pressures are intense, pulling and pushing, the art of persuasion lost, and replaced with agendas manipulated for maximum leverage and profit. We exist to interrupt the shepherd and give the sheep a reason to blink with a cerebral tweak here, and a visual imprint there; alternative non-absolutes dosed out with spoonfuls of diverse multiples void of exclusion.

I’m going to stay here for awhile.