David B. Cole, architect. 1954-2015

Posted in Rants, Reality by waldopaper on June 6, 2015

 Brother Dave’s Cabin  

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 Their temple is the Holiness of the Heart’s Imagination, and their kingdom, though they never possess it, is the wide open world.”  –E.M. Forster

David Cole, Architect, died Wed. 6/3/2015 CE.  Gonna miss the lad.  We used to go to the Renewable Energy thing in Wisconsin, drink beer, scotch and scramble on the rocks by Lake Superior.  

Turned me on to Connie Willis and Ry Cooder. Brother Dave had great zen.  Cancer got him and he changed state. So of course he still has it, wherever he is. Conduit for Green Architecture, carrying on his daddy’s craft like I did mine.  We both had to ditch it… as the Walmartian population began to grow.

We leapfrogged each other through the joke fuck douche bag healthcare system for several years.  He would come in to look down at me… then I’d come in and look down at him  See ya next time.  Well, I wasn’t gonna do any of that.  He once suggested I come to the party as the elephant in the room.  Hey Dave, fuck that.  We talked about that and were in agreement as usual. See ya next time old man.  We had matching aphasia strokes.  You don’t get to reality with too many blokes in this life.  One of those.  Had to pitch it.

Still fucking here to grump and bitch it.  

I miss Joe Bagent and George Carlin.  Joe was right about the audacity of depression.  It is bold.  Most of us knew the mask was off in 2000  CE at least in the USA.  Y2K to 911, numbers and words used to mean something.  Even some of my favorite blog sites winked out.  Doktor Fruit nailed it and Orlov wailed it.  Cool AD aint got shit to say. Peak everything.meaning nothing. How is it today?

I was raised a Methodist boy during the Cold War.  For decades, I avoided calling a myself a “christian” because of the awful responsibility.  Annie Dillard said church ladies should be wearing crash helmets. ” Does anyone have the foggiest idea what sort of power we blithely invoke?”  Maybe.  Today, more people are avoiding even the lower-case label because it is… honestly… embarrassing.   You may not have a problem sharing the tent with  the poor.

Most of us are now having problems sharing the big tent with folk who think the Flintstones is a documentary.  Here is the Elephant in the room:  denial of what is plain to see while hijacking the Christian (TM) brand with flatulent fairy tales trumpeting while backing in the tent flapping.  One is a bar room.  The other goes, “barroom!”  It’s the same with global communist conspiracy and the ISIS threat.  Them what smelt it usually dealt it.

Nation shudders at large block of uninterrupted text

“As the public grows more desperate, scholars are working to randomly italicize different sections of the text, hoping the italics will land on the important parts and allow everyone to go on with their day.”

Doesn’t seem to help.  Betcha someone was there during the Gburg address who did that.  Haven’t seen the transcript, but somebody will put it up on YouTube eventually.  Maybe the italics landed on repeated words, like “people,” or maybe on important prepositions like “of,” “by” and “for.”  However, it was dedicated to the proposition… not the preposition(s).  Everybody was too busy casting bronze tablets or grinding kitsch sculpture gardens so nobody would forget.

Forget what?  Italics were put on reservations years ago while everybody else was busy casting and grinding.  Casting the first stone grinding exceeding fine… but slowly.  Memes and molecules were little understood then.  They barely understood that eating poop made you sick.  But at least they could read. Italians had forgotten permaculture long before the the Geeks had taught them to write.  Of course they didn’t know they were eating poop.  We now know it only takes a week for E. colli to grow in your pocket lint.

So now everybody has a potential typhoid epidemic in their pocket.  That means we’re all terrorists.  We plant bugs on ourselves and update our dossier on Facebook.  Why not?  We are visions… but only illusions.  Like rainbows.  We have nothing to hide.  Lovers, dreamers and me, looking at the test pattern and listening to the tone.  Howdy Duty Time was over a century ago, full of that Yankee doodle dumb.  And we were the kids with the drum. Cities like forests… buildings like trees.    Brother Dave saw and heard.  I got the word.

Scholars randomly italicize.  Italics will land.  Important parts go on.


3 Responses

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  1. robinonfoot said, on July 12, 2015 at 12:49 pm

    We chastize ourselves, as a collective whole. But as parts and pieces, we must fight no more but learn the trick of the masters.

  2. robinonfoot said, on June 7, 2015 at 9:43 pm

    Nice tribute to Dave… certainly a brother.   Good man, and I’m sad.  Too soon, too soon.  But what do I know of time?   I’m more of a sap than a sapling… so I tend to feel maudlin, grim, and defeated.   Pancho said tonight… “look at all you’ve been given!”    He is right.  Look at all we have, Jeb.   It’s a blessing, these are blessings… many blessings.   Dad’s voiced wisdom echos in my head “With all that shit, there’s bound to be a pony in there somewhere.”     SO  I guess we “pony up” and take it aas it is, appreciate the sweet good parts, and do what we can with the fucked up parts.    Thanks for sharing this.  I posted a comment on the obit page… felt it lame of me, but couldn’t think of much else to say.   I love you, Jeb! R

  3. Roger Hudson said, on June 6, 2015 at 11:20 pm

    Sorry about this. Take care, Roger

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