Posted in Answers, Reality by waldopaper on January 13, 2016

Turret 9 November Whiskey  

Q: What do you consider the most overrated virtue?

A: Teeth.

— KV  January 17, 1991

This is somewhere between a road-trip and a long sea-voyage from which you may never return.  Mostly clothes.  Pretty ironic, cos don’t wear but one suit of clothes most of the time.  Minimalist.  

But I’m so fucking old, I have accumulated mountains of clothes.  And boots/shoes.  I go to gatherings  wearing a t-shirt older than most of the people there.  If coats could talk about nights you slept in them.  If shoes could tell where they been.

Aint you glad things don’t talk?   Well, they do.  Last I saw of Jimmy was his Bass guitar and hat.  That was enough.  Most times they were there.  You hate to leave old friends behind.  There will be no furniture involved.  Then it would be “moving day,” swore never to do that again, and won’t.  Furniture looks abandoned someplace else.  Assume watchman post in NT9 and watch the fun.  Will be fucking annoying just getting the comm gear working right.  Important if the Visitors de-cloak.  That wasn’t in the movie either.

It’s latent adolescent dumfuk Holden Cawfield stupid…  and old age offers unimaginable levels of stupid of which the young little dream.  Levels of disorientation usually only pilots and sailors know.  Like am i being stupid here, or does anyone see the clowns ramming giant plastic dildos up everyone’s  ass?  It almost is not a metaphor any more.  It’s reality writ dementia.  Other side of the hump from Holden.  Nightingale herald of mourn.  Nobody’s safe.  Everybody’s sorry.  Pascal gets us to bet the farm anyway using Real Magic.

What that has do with heaven and hell is a BS /bullshit belief system that is  definition evolved to make the user the look good. Like selfies.  We all do it.  But is it not the same as googling a wikipedia and following the links. Watching the documentaries.  Playing the classics.  Like selfies with the kids in Germany.  Your brain does the same thing.  You can’t really imagine fucking or killing anything until you’ve done it.  That’s absolutely the best thing about middle age. You can still do it, and still be stupid enough to ignore the consequences.

Old-age dementia is  awesome.   Neither good nor bad, is what it is, like whatever man.  And think dementia freaks its victims out way more than it used to.  Like having a stroke.  It’s an acid trip where you never come back.  That happens many times in many ways to many people yardle blurpde day.  Point is:   Consciousness– what is it?  what does it mean?  how do you recognize it?  And what happens when it changes state(s)?  Something that even the dumbest stoned hippie got at Woodstock and moved on.

They could have dealt with what the Force actually is and dark/anti-matter… the nature of consciousness and all that shit.  The good is that it is faithful to the spirit of Star Wars.  I would have called it Dark Piece, and gone from there.  But it’s faithful to the spirit of Star Wars like Santa is to Christmas and you try not to mess up the Christmas cookies.  Instead demented old fuck barfs on them and giggles while wiping his snowy beard?   Is that what happens when you see the clowns and the dildos and the butts?

Ho ho hold on Holden.  Santa’s bursting with Mr. Creosote nuts.  Only one.  And it’s waffer-thin.  And soon the whole Supper Club is projecting into the Meaning of Life.  Saw the baby machine blink back with its compound eye while banking over Phoenix sunrise football rank and file tiny screens seeing the same thing.  Holy fuck it’s alive.  And it’s intelligent.  And it’s conscious  (and btw- controlling this aircraft).  Skreet went the wheels and we marched rank and file to the baggage carousel and taxi to casino where we had to throttle the rebs.

Have you heard the people sing?    




One Response

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  1. robinonfoot said, on January 15, 2016 at 1:15 am

    Whew.   Read this tonight.   Sounds to me like you’re tempting the veil, grabbing the curtain and lookin’ behind at the hoodoo.   Methinks when you stare like that, you get in danger of it sticking to you.   But that’s ok, it’s supposed to stick to us.   Just that the stuff is hard to communicate and it doesn’t tolerate back and forth, just forth.   Hang on to your hat.  We got some work here to do on the Divide of our times.   On this side.   It’s what only old folks and very young can do.  Those in the middle are just keepin’ the keel, sailin’ the steady. For your next one, if you will, steady as she goes and write so it’s not all meta  for that is real hard to parce any meaning.   Dang it, Language, you are so mercuric and pop into tiny little beads when I wanna nail a word to a precise meaning.   So, don’t get all clever with the words, and just plain it, sure and simple said.    love, always ya know…. robin     

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