Tuesday, February 26, 2013


Rabbits ate most of my young fruit trees.

Rabbits are abundant in my garden. I usually don't mind. I have more clover in the pathways than grass, and they are content with the clover mostly, all seasons. They eat it all winter, pooping all over the garden, fertilizing it. We have a snow pack for the first time in awhile, it's a thick heavy snow, and they can't get to the clover. Ringed the trees as high as they could reach; they particularly enjoyed the pears, eating through the inner bark and cambium and into the wood, eighteen inches up. They picked at the peach and the new apple. They clipped the short sour cherry from the top down. They chewed up much of the western sand cherry too. It's my fault, of course; they are just being rabbits, and I certainly could have protected the trees without much trouble. Though I'm reminded, I didn't add the rabbits last week, to the list of the things that will keep me from starving :)

There's an interesting story on right now, on MPR (Minnesota Public Radio), about the wolf hunt here in MN. It's sort of like the division in the abortion debate. One side wants no hunt, the other side thinks its a freedom (except the sides are turned, relative to the abortion division). There are an estimated 3300 wolves in Minnesota (or were): 417 were killed in the hunt, another 300 shot and trapped for depredations on pets and livestock, and hit by cars (no one ever asks, what are cattle farms doing in the north woods?) No number given for the illegal kill, but the guy in favor of the hunt, on the radio, did say early on, [parapharasing], "I don't know how many are killed illegally, you can say whatever, 1000, 2000." It's probably more like 300-400 (it does show how "scientific" his "scientific" claim really is, how much he really cares about wolves.)

On the Doomstead Diner, we've been discussing animal totems. I mentioned when I was a young man I identified with the wolf. Which is to say, some people see animals as totems, and some see them merely as a resource, or a menace; other's still would be fine with exterminating all animals (except humans of course). The guy (on the radio) who wants a moratorium on the hunt is talking now, about that totem feeling, native concerns, and I'm pretty sure I just heard the other guy laugh.

I think, when a guy had to kill a wolf with a bow, he might have had cause to "wear" that pelt as an ornament. Instituting a 30-40 percent reduction in population yearly, is a holocaust.

My neighbor just called in. LOL He just said we don't need to count the wolves. He said there's been a big reduction in deer, rabbit and grouse. He said there's a need to "do something" about all the predators in this state (though he gave a full reprieve to bald eagles). He mentioned most of the predators, of course, except human. He's going on and on now, just about to the limit, before they interrupt. He's well spoken (if mistaken - it's not wolves killing all those animals, it's hungry people in hard times.) The lady talking now is saying something about "the lords of nature." My neighbor, the same one that called in, will likely trap and eat the rabbits that ate my fruit trees. He traps about fifty a year, in the neighborhood. He and his wife eat them.

Which, looking at the rabbit as a totem, I see them eating my fruit trees, as a kind of release. A gesture. Permission to let go of this house, this land.

And a warning. Protect the fruit bearing from predation.

 Meanwhile, opportunities abound.

Friday, February 22, 2013

Late Winter

I keep writing blog posts and throwing them out. I write them in my dreams too, but those I rarely transcribe (they aren't that profound.) It's late winter now in Minnesota, the blah is setting in, and all of my interpretations of what is going on in the world seem unpalatable to just about everyone, and I don't really need to write that way for myself to make sense of it anymore, if you know what I mean. Basically I don't feel like I have much that's positive to say, right now. I can say I love this life and love spending time with family, friends and kids. The earth truly is a beautiful garden.

Which I've felt something very much like the glory of God in this garden. It's hardest to feel that, this time of year, but sitting here in the kitchen writing, looking out at my peach tree, the tall mullein shrouded with snow like dry cacti sentinels, my peacock trellis I found in the alley (I tried to grow cucumbers on, too deep in the shade, bitter cukes.) The grapevines, white ambrosia and frontenac, on the fence, the volunteer mulberry growing out of the fence, leaning out over the 100+ frontenac starts; the volunteer Artemesia absinthium, the stand of bergamot out in the center, negra hollyhock by the bedroom downspout, the one tilting spiked and balled rattlesnake master; my favorite wild leadplant; three South American nicotiana which sprouted from second generation seed, from the jungle-like shade of the leadplant, late in the season, which may not have had time to make a third generation; the golden rod, solidago. All in the frame of this one window, snow falling, sun shining down.

I'm out of money again. Well, not really, but cash is down to maybe $75. I got a $514 phone bill yesterday. In the last month I've downloaded almost 2000 books, watched dozens of documentaries and sang along to hundreds of youtube videos. Oops, never had phone Internet before, $440 in usage charges. It's looking like I might not have phone or Internet, come April. At which time the house is likely to be up for sale. It's almost sure to sell at a loss to an investor, who would probably tear down the house and bulldoze the lot. With a thousand dollars I could spruce the place up and make it super cool and livable; in anticipation of the sale, there's a new furnace (burning fracked natural gas, which dad paid for. Which is wracking up more debt, but does make the house more comfortable than I've ever known it.) Costing not as much to heat the whole house, I think, as the $700 or so that I owe the electric company, for the two oil filled radiators to heat the kitchen, bedroom and bath, late October - mid February.

Employers are not exactly breaking down my door, two months after my little dance at big bank. I haven't been trying very hard, either. (Seems like the twilight of empire to me.)

I have until the 28th of this month to resolve the several tons of asphalt piled in the driveway, after the paver work I did, and the white pine I had intended to prop up around the garden as plant stands, otherwise the city will remove it and charge me another $500+/-. Ran out of screws, to finish the garage greenhouse. LOL.


At the same time, I turn 40 this summer. Which I heard Dr. Drew on the teevee the other day, elaborating, after that sad Mindy McCready thing, and he was like, (paraphrasing, my emphasis) if people start giving away their things, have them committed against their will, drug them into oblivion, label them clinical depressives, effectively institutionalize them for the remainder of their days (In Rome they used to kill the Christians for such a thing)...and I was like, that's it! Idiot! Give it all away. LOL. Except maybe my camping gear, so I can get the hell off this crazy train for the whole of the summer at least. Disappear myself into the wilderness for 120 days and find out what knowledge I really have that isn't basically coming from google. lol

But, alas, if you think Doctor Drew is an ass, what do you suppose big bank would have to say about giving a house and garden away?

Otherwise, don't worry about me. I've got at least 100 pounds of potatoes, cabbage, kale, assorted berries, beans, rice and flour, and about 60 bottles of house wine. Asparagus and lambs quarter will be up in six-eight weeks. Legally they can't shut off the utilities for another month at least. Oh yeah, that condemnation thing. LOL :)

Thursday, February 14, 2013

Black Arts

When I say that the MSM is become a black art of dissimulation, there are few better illustrations of that than the film Zero Dark Thirty. Which rears it's ugly hydran head again on NPR today - soon again, with the Oscars. A conversation about torture, and whether or not the film sanctifies it. Some people say of the forty minutes of torture scenes (we are a sadistic culture and need our fix) that that one clue worked out - indeed, that it shows torture at all - means the film justifies torture. Others say it's a 'true' representation of a dirty but necessary business, and is merely a reflection for us to ponder, whether or not that's a course we want to continue as a culture. Others think torture is great. Others are freaked out about the very idea of torture, and that this supposed good country could ever justify it in any context; for them the film is repugnant. But again, all-in-all, the message is, this is a discussion about State authorized

I haven't seen the movie. I don't know that I want to condition my brain and body to that kind of scenery if I don't have to. I'm certainly not going to pay movie theatre prices. Maybe I'll see it when they show it at the Riverview theatre ($2 ticket), or here at the house out of the Red Box ($1, if I bring it back the next day). But again, it's a bullshit story at it's core, so why pay to be duped? Which I don't have to see the movie to comment on the meaning of it, the effect of it, as I see that on my culture and in other people; and knowing what a skilled filmmaker Katherine Bigelow is; which I did see her Hurt Locker, and got off on it like a lot of guys did. She was married to James Cameron, btw, at one point, the Titanic/Avatar guy who used that money to reach the bottom of Marianas Trench, and want's to use it to mine the solar system (!) Katherine Bigelow knows what drives powerful men. Fascinated by the violence of it, she tells it well.

Which it is sort of comical to me, the way the Left has gotten so uppity about torture (which was a GWBush introduction to law) but not drone killings of Americans or anyone, really; or Indefinite Detention of Americans (or anyone); or O's Libyan escapade, getting our Ambassador killed and destabilizing the whole of North Africa; or that gun running into Mexico; continuation of the Patriot Act, etc.


But hey, we got Osama, Left and Right rejoice. We spent billions, billions of dollars were spent tracking down and killing Osama Bin Laden. How much was spent in the investigation of 9/11? I've heard numbers as low as $600,000. I don't know that there is any evidence pointing Osama bin Laden to 9/11; as time goes by, he looks more and more like a CIA asset turned patsy. There's plenty of evidence to suggest our Federal government, or rather some cabal within the government, perpetrated 9/11, but again, mostly all you'll ever hear from the MSM is Mockingbird piping, from Anderson Cooper to Glenn Beck.
Torture in this case becoming like a red herring then, in the terminology of State propaganda, to hide the fact that something very like a coup took place on 9/11. Surveillance state America. Which might be a conversation America might want to pursue, but not one that is ever going to be addressed in any meaningful way but to denigrate, by the MSM.

Which story Katherine Bigelow in all her genius is never going to get to tell, nor would she want to, Ms self-styled rebel. You know what I mean, the story about the coup, by the rotten beating Western heart of the Military Industrial Global Banking Surveillance State. The true story of the centralization of power.

Instead, she made a movie that says basically, the State exists to protect you, the story it has told about Osama bin Laden and 9/11 is true, and so the War on Terror is justified. State propaganda, in other words, masquerading skillfully as Art. Which they really would just about have to force me to watch. Plenty of people payed though, $11-15, and ate it up, like true institutional wards. Getting off on Katherine Bigelow's machismo. LOL She is hot.


Every Imperial State having it's message managers. Katherine Bigelow being an exemplar. 


Monday, February 4, 2013

God and Football

God made an appearance, during the Super Bowl fiesta, did you see that?

Or was that the devil everywhere? I'm not sure anymore, between the two, but then, there's football to think about, so, all's good.

I mean, what a dramatic game! A very dramatic Super Bowl - with even a game shifting power outage, following an astounding halftime show; WHAT TECH! And Beyonce' "killed" it (which for you old timers, is a euphemism for "totally rocked"). I found myself totally cheering for the 49'ers, for old time's sake, amazed at the strength and accuracy of the arm, of the young man Kaepernick - who, check it out, wrote a letter when he was a kid that he wanted to play in the Super Bowl for the 49ers! Flacco and the Ravens showed extreme poise, and unified vision. The brothers angle was special too, the two opposing head coaches (between whom there is enough antipathy that they could not even embrace after the game.) The ending was a drag, literally, a weird non-call on the last play from scrimmage for the 49ers, and then the punter for the Ravens running around in the end zone, but on the whole it was a great game, and Ray Lewis finally got his title.

As for God, He showed up early, before the game, just like He always does. Ray Lewis gave an interview. Among other things, asked about the man he supposedly killed 13 years ago. To paraphase, "God is perfect, and He wouldn't ever let a man who could have done what was accused of me, to accomplish what I've accomplished." After which, it was revealed that the interview was recorded before it was revealed that he had used a banned pharmaceutical to heal more quickly from a triceps injury.

Kaepernick called out God's name too, though Colin compared to Ray Lewis, seems a genuine "babe in the woods," though it might not seem that way to conservative America, what with all those tatoos. FAITH being most prominent on the golden biceps he is so fond of kissing. Too bad though, God showed up for the bad guy, this time.

Beyonce' called out to God too, from that fabulous stage. She seemed classy about it too, IMO, thanking the audience at the end, some 111 million Americans, for the opportunity. What an opportunity! One wonders, or at least I do, what would have happened had she called out to the Goddess, instead. LOL. The horror of it.

The devil was more prominent in the commercials. He appeared as Willem Dafoe, for Mercedes (did anyone else notice the Mercedes emblem hovering over it all, at the peak of the Superdome?), and several times, as Stevie Wonder/witchdoctor/Bud Light pimp. There was plenty of mayhem, as Kunstler pointed out:

Did anyone notice how violent and psychotic the Superbowl advertising was this year? An Oreo commercial that depicted a mob of nerds destroying a library --  huh? The Doritos spot where "Daddy" and his male buddies transform themselves into an insane clown posse of cross-dressers. The Fast and Furious 6 trailer featuring the destruction of every vehicle known to man and a few office buildings, too. The third-quarter power failure was a neat harbinger of things-to-come in the Most Exceptional United States of America. Party on, peeps! 

 The coup de grace' did not actually come, until after the game, a contrived Elementary strip tease, and then the slaughter of two doctors, two nurses and a policeman, shot in the head, and throats slit. I only saw three people die the rest of that show, shot in the head and stabbed in the neck, though I never finished watching it. Sometime much later, I caught three minutes of a CSI episode, a middle class woman chained to a bed, mouth covered with duct tape - close-up on her face as she is stabbed to death with an ice pic - her death-image repeated about 50 times in the next 2 minutes, spasmodically.

I have a few theories about that power outage. I didn't actually know until almost game time, that the game was being played in the New Orleans Superdome. I didn't want to be a downer during the game, so I didn't mention all the people who died in that building, post-Katrina. The first thing out of my mouth when the power went out was, "The ghost of Katrina rises!" Or ghosts. It might have been intentional too: the lights out in HALF the building. Notice, the 49er's were 3rd and 14, down 28-6, early in the third quarter. That's a lot of advertising that isn't going to be watched ($), and another 34 minutes of downtime to show them. It worked, great. DHS is sure to make use of the power outage, too, in their propaganda to take over the internet. Maybe it was God though, maybe it was, a little harbinger of what is to come, like Kunstler says.

After the game, I went to a local bar with my brother in law. The ending of that Elementary show was on the TV, the psychotic killer of nurses and doctors in some nice apartment, in a battle of wits with the protagonist, Holmes. Rather than follow along with the captioning, I started talking to the guy next to me, about the tv show, and how weird it was there was so much violence, immediately following the game. He started analyzing it in a sort of comatose and not necessarily overly-drunken way, like, why was it necessary to kill those two nurses, as if those first two dead health care professional/doctors and the police man made sense, dramatically speaking - identifying with the mass murderer, without really knowing he was doing it. He wasn't a bad guy; banal would be the word, eating up a "morality" tale on the relative righteousness of revenge killing/psychopathic slaughter. Which there seems to me a great many like him. People who don't think very well, basically, inured to the imagery of violence. For instance, I hear some hesitatingly harsh talk today about the extreme sexuality of Beyonce's performance. Violence, on the other hand, is being discussed on NPR right now as I write this, with about as much detached apprehension as that everyman at the bar. If I had to say, what is TV about, after last night's foray, myself not watching TV very often, I'd say it's more and more about training people to be killers, clinical like.

So, stepping into the archetype of the raving mystic, for a moment, making a Prophecy, my take-away from Super Bowl XLVII (you might want to avert your eyes):

Ravens will pick from the bones of the dead, 
before the descendents of flower children shall rise;
with gold and precious metals, to make a new way 
to communicate freely, or to enslave, 
or be enslaved if they are not wary