There ought to be clowns.

Posted in Answers, Rants, Reality, Stupid-heads by waldopaper on September 27, 2013

What a surprise. 

Sure of my lines,
No one is there.  Sondheim

Sacred clowns?  Who knew?  The ones who could see the manitou.  Lord of Hosts.  Oh yeah… creepy Uncle Sam. Different from scared clowns.

We get it.  There is no “government” unless you are talking about whatever it is that is (i am that i am) making the big decisions. God, you say?  Seen Him in the watch fires…ramp a damp? Not exactly.  Although that’s definitely in the mix.  Everything has its own manitou… plants, stones, machines… everything.  Pantheism?  Argy bargle.  It is the elephant the boys saw in the Civil War.  Infantry, Queen of Battles.  Anima rising.  She’s a vengeful little goddess.  Ancient crown.  All that.  Still don’t see it?  Wow.  Elephant in the room putting on tap shoes.  Fat lady gargling mi-mi-me.

Appears like there is about to be a show, no?  You betcha.  A really big one.  And guess what?  You are in it right now.  Haven’t seen the script?  We’re extras.  We don’t need a script.  Some of us have seen the elephant.  We are veterans.  Some of us are here because we want to be.  All of us have to be.  We are veteran volunteers.  We know the drill by now… and we have seen this show before.  So it goes without saying (but we gotta say it)… most of us will be gone.  Keep your eye on the brick wall at the back.  Between you and the wall is the enemy.  The audience.  They see everything you do.  Never mind them.  You are about to see the elephant.  That’s right.  The sight… listen… will scare you shit-less.

For real.  So listen up When the audience sees the brick wall… it is going to get very strange.  So I recommend the light technical (black) nylon underwear that cleans easy and dries quick.  Spare packs down-size an egg. Probably won’t need it.  Gotta deal with elephant shit first and your own shit later.  There probably will not be a later.  Maybe the light in the tunnel is on the other side of the rainbow bridge.  Lots of little kids have been afraid of clowns.  Why?  Weirdness pure and simple.  The grotesque.  Clown with the cyanide pie.  Dat’s all brother.  Those frightened of the strange and unfamiliar paid to see the show.  They will see the elephant.  Water filter.  Probably won’t need it.  Living water.  Hand it over.

But lotsa people might be upstream rinsing out their undies. 


‘The word “manitou” (in both Cree and Ojibwe) written in Canadian Aboriginal Syllabics.’

Does this look like “logos” to you?  Or maybe a whistle-blower seeing the wall at the back of the theater?

That glyph has possibilities.  Really.

Have read so much about the volunteers… most of it written by the boys themselves… but there’s lots of stuff in there from the girls.  If I were a real scholar (or ever hoped to get paid for it) would have documented all that shit.  As it was… a strange image of the veteran volunteers;  grizzled young/old dudes who tended to throw everything away while stripping for battle.  pretty much your shooting iron and ammo.  and a hat…  water if you had time.

after the battle… the grizzled young/old dudes would get the shit they needed every day… like a coat or a spoon… or whatever… you would simply take it off a noob who had one.  Usually had a speech to go with it.  There wasn’t much friction about that.  Most of it was about card games or stealing somebody’s food.  If you were around long enough to be carrying something that the 100 or so people around you could clearly identify as yours, nobody would fuck with it. Unless you were dead.

There were others who never “stripped for battle. ” They had all the shit they could carry with them all the time.  A common one was a big-ass iron skillet.  One old boy would shift his skillet to the front (like he was wearing it as a breast-plate) and then held his pack in front of that like a shield… and kept up with many running assaults.  He survived the war.  Lots of old salts developed their own technique and wrote about it.  Sam Watkins is good.

Them Volckers saw the elephant for sure.  

ok it looks like a front-loader going left… or a quad with fairing going right past the full moon.

Thus the clown, even though he is a curer, has no medicine of his own; he either uses medicine that belongs to others, or else his “medicine” is nothing but common filth. All he has, otherwise, is himself and his own actions.

many women saw the elephant too... big time.  There was the pregnant woman at Gettysburg who dug 100 graves one day.  After the battle naturally, because she lived in the cemetery caretaker’s cottage… which was on the edge of where the Union line came closest to the town.  Constant fire for three days.  She began on July 5, and this story is probably metaphorical… she had a lot of help.  What bloke is going to watch a pregnant woman whose man is off to some other part of the war… dig graves by herself?  Otherwise, you probably couldn’t dig 100 graves in a day with a backhoe.

Most of the help came from nearly 200 thousand folk working hard  making grave events… to address regional intricacies.


…young men will cause catastrophic political failures similar to those that led to Hitler’s takeover of German democracy.  —America 2.0


I messed up the story a bit… but if Elizabeth Thorn did not see the elephant first hand– nobody did.



2 Responses

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  1. p said, on March 15, 2014 at 10:39 pm

    hi, what

  2. […] up the story a bit… but if Elizabeth Thorn did not see the elephant first hand– nobody […]

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