sarah wrote about her brother the big game hunter's r.i.p. sale and sent the ad with all the pictures and i reacted viscerally, oh my god, that is horrifying, i love the macabre, but i think i would have a complete breakdown in that house. it looks like the home of a domestic terrorist. he was 58? the same age as me. what did he die of? i'm probably overreacting, i have a congested head and i have to leave r's so i don't make her sick. i'm sorry if that is offensive, it's a gut reaction, and he's your brother. i mean no disrespect, i sympathize, but that may be an offense too.
oh, good, she says i wasn't overreacting at all.
i sympathize with all his victims, sarah and the countless animals, though sympathy does little for the living and nothing for the dead.
postscript. an hour later, the raw weather penetrating my forehead, feeling more vulnerable each minute. i fantasize this being my last winter. what would that mean, death or paradise.
enough about the brother with guns, but one more thing, he really was a domestic terror as well as a terror to wildlife, drunk, he threatened to blow off the tip of his kid's ear for being late to xmas. oh come all ye faithful.
oh, my poor dog, my poor dog is me...
i kept looking back at the frontispiece of that book of the future, american war, to see the map of the shrinking united states. i got a secret thrill. then i thought of the refugees, and what the shrinking means. they are all coming here, to this godforsaken middle, and the shrunken united states will be an island of the damned.
kids, to be an angel you don't have to be perfect, you just have to be good, and it's hard to be good in a society predicated on careless brutality and disregard for life, but you can still be good in this world if you resist all the evil that surrounds you. it is not easy, it is damn fucking hard, kids, but i have faith in you, like i have none in the adult world, because whatever happens we have to have faith in something to keep ourselves alive. we can't live like society implies by killing alone. that's a dead end game.
they are going to tear that green space apart, and on that sanctuary they are going to build and build and build, like there is no tomorrow, and no yesterday, and today we are staring into the abyss the mindless automatons of power create, the endless death of free space.
we had a moment in the sun and ruby crowned kinglets glinting about us (see?) and i walked the beach with my shirt off drinking the love of the sun through my skin and today the darkness is back with cold and wind and the foretaste of snow metallic in my nose.
kids, be brave, you must make them stop, or the motherfuckers simply will not stop. we can pretend we are not brutalizing the planet, but our streets are full of the same common savagery.
all this theft of people's parks and the ongoing merciless rape of the land, all this tearing shit up, this con game of development of obombaland in trumpworld. it will not end and it cannot be stopped until it collapses. and i suppose collapse is not stopped but continued.
the book i started, american war, is about where we're heading, not american war now, but the endless war projected into the ever vague future. the united states has shrunk, and states have seceded and it's a second civil war between the fossil fuel folks and the rest. can you imagine the mighty united states shrinking?
this morning a car backed savagely at me in an intersection, i flipped a long black bird, he chased me down the alley, i turned in and flipped the fuck again. thus begins the dark day.
in the park i hear from philin phlash and kona how a guy savaged him for having his dogs off leash, bumping into him and cursing and threatening him, his dog slipping he collar and chasing them to their car, then standing in front taking pics of the plates and calling the po-po. in the report the attacker says he was attacked by little kona, and philin did a hit and run on him.
never mind, i have a blocked head. i'm a blockhead and i have to go back home with my head bobbing like a dead sunflower in the dark wind, so i do not infect r. and i feel like crying but maybe i'll wait til i get to my own dark place.
it amazes me how quick you can learn about a person, and how they can be mysterious forever. i just met a french woman who said she loved all animals and scootched back from the pointers. she asked if i was retired assuming a dogwalker must have had a real job before and i said no i was an artist, i'll never retire. then she opened her portfolio and showed me the animals she loved, sweet sweet animals, on silk yet, and i said aww, i just saw a racoon on my porch last night, eating garbage. then we talked about how the bastards were taking all the green space and i gave her a save the midway card and she said what is this midway? and suddenly she was talking about the muslims and how they ruined this country and i said america destroyed herself and i said we must go and she said god bless you and afterwards riding here i thought oh, she said she came here in '68 to escape the revolution in paris and aha she is one of those, she escaped the hippies and 50 years later she equates the muslims with the hippies. people have funny ideas about encroachment and revolution. some people are real whack-jobs.
