happy holloween. mister had a monster poo on the freelings front lawn, a direct hit in the epicenter, three bags-full. m. freeling chased him off yesterday saying she'd had fifteen years of dogs and the onus is donesville. the lawn was raked due east like the pate of a balding mecca man.

it'll be fine. what will. oh, the bee stung pinkie, nothing. among other things.

 everythings very quick and transitional. i stay in one place mainly everything is transiting speedily around me people flash and disappear i forget their names immediately, i won't last long, i could be flipped any minute.

 i'm tired but i do not sleep, something in me does not sleep. i'm pricked by anxiety, dulled by wakes. the seas are rising everywhere the animals vanish. people migrate endlessly by war and work.

 it's not the election cycle on the horizon it's the catastrophe within us. we been making it with evil so long it's in our genes, we cant change, we can only ride the monster, we can't jump out the way.
 

                                                                       watching the sky spy boy.

everyone there asked about you.

the blues come so many different ways...until it's kind of hard to explain.


the blues according to lightnin' hopkins.

the result of being with dogs is an expanding dialogue with the world.

you know the blues is something that, uh-it's hard to get acquainted with, just like death.

                                                                                                                     -lightnin' hopkins.

the love of animals is the one true love in which one is never disappointed.

the last wolf.

the last wolf was great, and now i'm reading the dream of animals, and chomsky on anarchism.

i forget nearly everything.

mister is brilliant now with new dogs, his calm and ease and grace.

last night my pinkie grew extra large with a bee stinger lodged inside. i sat up and looked at it like a phantom that would keep expanding until it exploded. i thought of hilde. then without saying nothing my mind went ah, fuck it, and in the morning pinkie looked more like my dear sweet pinkie again.

 ...he finally understood that he had been living his life steeped in the deepest ignorance, allowing himself to be led by the nose, firmly believing he was obeying the order of divine providence when he had divided the world into noxious and beneficial, while in reality both categories originated in the same heinous ruthlessness that had infernal light lurking in its depths, just as he realized with a pang that it was not a fragile peace, nor the "ancestral commands of the heart" that ruled the human world because all that was merely like some transparent film shielding the pullulating "mass of murderous chaos" below.

a burst of compassion thus swept him among the fallen, and this same compassion made him revolt against that loyalty that had til now shackled him to the tyranny of the law, and since he now believed that there had to be a higher law beyond human reckoning, he had crossed the borderline past which-he realized-he would remain forever alone.


laszlo krasznahorkai,
herman, 
the game warden. 

they say they started clearing all the lower greenery after a guy got killed. hmm.  guys get killed every day, in the kiddie parks and on the streets, but it's nature that's scary, you never know what could be hiding in nature, the mind quails. if you go out to the woods today, you better not go alone...

so i learn every person involved with project 120 is associated with the japanese corporation that funded ono's death lotus and the osaka garden revamp. thus 8.1 million samoleans mysteriously disappear with the greens and animals and a giant metal death lotus and spycams appear. four years ahead of schedule. in time for obomba's triumphant non-return. and holloween.

   what will happen when i'm dead?

nothing was written down
you had to carry everything in your head
til you could tell someone.
that's why we started talking to the dog. 

spend it all, spend it all before it's gone.

i dreamed an american love-in.

in the longest running american war in history.

it's beautiful it's about the pain the essence who we are.

i don't wanna do that what other people do i can't helpit.

 the way that you're born, that's the way you're spose to be. that's the blues.
 

a life well spent.

judge said, listen boy, you ever been up before me before? i said, well, what time do you get up?
 

and i just keeps it up...because the blues is something the peoples can't get rid of.


lightnin' hopkins

what kind of snake was that?
man, that was a snakey snake.
i'm talkin' bout- you, you've named snakes, and you-
yeah, but that-that was a snake.
i mean, what do you call him? snake?   

he's a snake. that's right.
but you got a name for him, a certain name for a snake. what was it?
aw, he was a- he was a snake snake.
snake snake. why d'you catch them kind of snake? they're tough.
  
 

now, we don't know one snake from another. they some poison snake, if it bites, you'll die in a few minutes. so, i didn't mean to do the snake too much harm...but i did it by breaking its neck.


the blues according to lightnin' hopkins.

i remember this bridge used to squeak when mister sashayed across. it doesn't sing anymore.

 but it don't have that stupid no dog sign hanging up where the birds were. 

i said to mister, i ain't studying the evil ways of old poisoner levy no more, til i see the bastard with his blue playtex gloves and his blue beemer and his shoulder mounted round-up.

there was a lot of dead space, a lot of dead plants, a creepy plane-crash lotus, and a memorial feeling.

other than that, if they leave it alone, but they won't because of animals and trysting misters. this is a public garden, not for lonely hearts or animals.
 

well, we've kvetched enough on the island, for now.

that was a pretty good memorial. how was it? oh everybody talked about his achievements, but to us dogs he was a gentle man who punned, did crosswords, and took care.
 

and loved trees.

i'm trying to think of the exact moment the bee stung my pinkie. was it when i wrote geraldine was a hedgehog.
 

it was probly jest a coincidence.

 8 point one million.
 

 coy pond.

they abandoned the plans they lied they were gonna make and crowed they were four years ahead of schedule.
 

this is about 5 mill right here. a bargain at any price.

mister takes a break from lollygagging around.

 mister joins the conversation.