Who needs narcotics when you have animal cruelty?
I honestly don’t know what blows my mind more about this video - that the bears actually try and hold their sticks or that a crowd of humans is actually sitting around watching. Thanks Matt for sending this along.
Shannon Wheeler is the genius behind Too Much Coffee Man. I found this one the other day and just love it.
Trig and I went to Sequoia National Park last week. Some of the trees are 2200 years old and I realized - I don’t have 2200 years to get done what I want to. And instead of that feeling like a burden, I felt peaceful and focused. For the first time in almost 3 years, my head is finally screwed back onto my body correctly. If you haven’t been the Sequoia National Park, fit it into this lifetime - you can learn a great deal from living things that have survived over two millenia. Don’t forget to hike Moro Rock.
Here are some pics from the trip.
I wish I was this brilliant. Big Up to Dale for sending this my way.
Finally, the absurdity and demented fallacious heart of American politics is matched by a candidate worthy of the game. Ladies and Assholes, I give you…Robocop On A Unicorn for President.
You can find more photos of these candidates Flickr at: ROAUFP. And big rusty trombone for Dale who sent this to me earlier this morning.
I had an occurence this week that had a profound affect upon me, very Sea Change type of event. And being as I cannot think of anything else, I’m going to write about it. I’ll preface this by saying that I now 100% believe that the Universe is alive and conscious and symbolically communicates to us. On this occassion, obviously the Universe felt my confusion, despondency and need, and with exquisite Compassion, it sent me a missive that could not be ignored. As well, this post will be a bit long-ish, but I guarantee it will be revealing and, hopefully, enlightening in some fashion.
So, about 6 years ago I finished a novel. In that novel there is a main character named Carlo and he moves into the basement apartment of the Purjor family. The father of the Purjor’s is Litchfield - very much a representation of myself. About halfway thru the novel, Litchfield’s wife Liz receives news that her ex-husband has been found after more than 15 years in hiding after abducting their daughter. The news is (I hope obviously) traumatic for the Purjors. Anyway, Litchfield and Liz have a conversation in which Liz explains that, although her previous husband wounded her greatly at an emotional and pyschological level, she still cannot dismiss feelings of Love she had for him. She is not IN LOVE with him, but he was her first True Love and…that shit just doesn’t wash away entirely. Ever. Never ever. This information makes Litchfield despondent - Liz is the only True Love of his life and he is confounded that he cannot be the only True Love of her life. So he starts bumming around for a while. One day a few weeks later he’s just bumming the yard. Carlo approaches him, tells him he looks like shit and has been behaving unlike his usual jovial self for a while. Litchfield explains what has happened and what he is feeling. Then, Litchfield points out a mirror leaning against the wall on the other side of the yard and a bird that continually flies into the mirror, attempts to perch on it and generally tries to engage its mirror self. On top of that, it’s winter and the bird has not migrated the cold location of Long Island where the novel takes place. Litchfield feels this bird is somehow symbolic of his own struggles and, perhaps thru observation, he can find a way of letting go of his painful emotions.
Okay.
Fast forward to this past Tuesday. I - the real James, not Litchfield - login to MySpace and see that the sister of the only woman I’ve truly and totally loved has posted new photos of her 25th b-day. Being a moron, I check the photos and see that my ex is dating someone else. Now, with all humility and honesty - it was not the fact that she is with another person that made me instantly feel like I was walking along the bottom of the ocean hauling something with about the weight of a dwarf star behind me. It was the fact that it’s 2 years and 7 months later and I’m still looking over my shoulder for closure. I really thought I was done with that, but I’m pretty certain now that it never actually ends, you just learn how to live with.
So I get despondent. Then, on Thursday evening, I’m bumming so I go lay down in my bed. As I’m lying there trying to just NOT EXIST, I hear this noise in the yard that just WILL NOT FUCKING STOP! And so I sit up in bed (the window is directly above the bed) and I look out the window. Now, the previous owner had left a mirror leaning against the wall in the yard, half of it seeming to grow out of the sparse bush in front of it. And the noise turns out to be a small brown bird continually jumping at its reflection, attempting to perch on the edge, et cetera…
…
So, my mind - indeed my entire soul - has been in state of profound disorientation since then. And the bird is still doing this. I AM NOT MAKING THIS UP. SERIOUSLY, I woke up this morning four days later and the bird is still trying to converge with its mirror self. And I’ve realized that the Universe is conscious. There is no other explanation. FOLKS!!!! MY LIFE IS IMITATING MY ART!!! Try and put on my shoes for even ten seconds and feel the sublime confounding intensity of my situation.
I must accept that the Universe sent me a pretty significant symbol of what to do…and now I have to decipher it, which I think I have. Plus, from this point forward, I can no longer deny that EVERYTHING - from the furthest particle of dust twirling in the vacuum just near the rim of infinity to cellular walls of my most compact interior - EVERYTHING is connected. That’s a lot to swallow in four days. And I’m feeling it.
I don’t know what else to say about that. If you have any feedback or advice, I’d love to hear it because this is just overwhelming - in a good way, but still, damn…
-James
Fuck the economy and the war and the election. Either give me Jessica Simpson singing the Bumblebee Tuna song or ELEPHANT’S ADDICTED TO H, SMACK, HORSE… Do they use a syringe or snort?
I mean really, folks, this is important. Imagine the rehabilitation! What does an elephant withdrawing from the coy yet demonic spectre of H addiction do? What are its cold-sweats like? What vile and manipulative things will it screech at its parent’s to get 20 bucks? How the fuck do the doctor’s get the methadone into the elephant?
And, really, a message to you smugglers - heroin in bananas to tame the beast? Elephants are sacred, you morons. With parents like Shiva and Parvati, you’re playing with FIRE, SON! Couldn’t you find some stuffed dolls to move the drugs within? LAME. If you’re too scared to stick a condom full of smack up your crack, then you definitely aren’t tough enough to sling dope. Go home and watch Maria Full of Grace a few hundred times ’til you have the balls to ruin your own life.
Okay, I know I promised the Open Love Letter to Liz Lemon next, but I just have to write this post now…
Genpets. Holy Shit. Honestly, my brain tells me that this is a well-engineered hoax, but my brain has been wrong before.
Genpets are a bio-engineered mammals that come in packages like toys. They are reported on the site as being alive. The packaging has electronic devices and chemicals hooked into the Genpet to keep them in a perpetual state of hibernation - they are reported to be breathing. They bleed, they have bones, they make noises - they are alive in every way you and I are (supposedly.)
In all honesty…IF this is real, I think I’d rather be eaten alive by a white tiger wearing a Bill Cosby sweater than be on a planet where this is happening. But then again - I’m into freedom of evolution and this seems like a hella way to push those genetic doors open to punctuated equillibrium. READ THIS WEBSITES FAQS!!!!
I woke up feeling as if I’d late-night snacked from a medical waste bag. Just plain fucking awful - head, stomach, toenails…all just felt abused. But I had shit to do. My brother helped me look at my car battery because the car was stuttering a bit when I’d start it. He wanted to do a 2nd test, but I said “no, I’ve got to run to costco and the bank pronto.”
So the fucking car battery died in the parking lot of Costco. This is after some old prick crop-dusted (definition: farted horribly next to me in a public place then walked away) me inside and this gorgeous Asian lady looked at me like I’d given her kids poisoned candy. So then Trig drove over and gave me a jump. I went to Checkers and had to buy a new battery - goodbye, Money, I’ll miss you.
Then I got home and the printer I bought jammed on the very first print. And the second. And the third. On up to 8. By then the Zoo called and requested I stop screaming because it was turning the monkeys on.
So I returned the fucking printer and asked the clerk to start promoting that model as a bird-feeder. While I was leaving, this ADD poster child in the food court was howling so insanely that I thought he’d swallowed a 8-ball of meth (I could have made back the price of the battery if I knew bowel surgery.)
On my way out of the parking lot, I had to stop below a powerline where a bunch of pigeons were sitting. The reason I even noticed the powerline and shit-birds is because one of them exploded and fell on my car.
I just ate a burrito with too much hot sauce and my lips feel like someone dragged sand paper across them.
And it’s only 3pm. Next post…my open love letter to Liz Lemon.
Need inspiration? Check out these 3 creative endeavors:
Sea Organs Zabar: This is a set of stairs that descend into the coastline at Zabar, Croatia. They have an internal tube system that permits the water’s organic flux to send sound thru the tubes and report out of harmonically crafted pipe holes along the walkway. Check out the schematic below and visit this link to hear the sound it produces. As well, you can purchase a 70 minute disc of the sound at the Sea Organs Zabar site (which is also a pretty unique website design.)
2. Blackpool High Tide Organ: 45 foot tall, concrete/zinc/copper/steel, and its internal structure contains eighteen organ pipes powered by 8 tubes that run directly into the sea. Gorgeous structure. Check out the Wikipedia article for more details.
3.San Francisco’s Wave Organ: A clandestine location along the eastern edge of the Golden Gate National Recreation Area, this work of environmental art is best heard at high tide around 5am on Saturdays.
[This article was inspired by a post I found at Oddstrument.com.]
