don't ask me, ask me, but i don't know, why i put these pictures with this text. i opened my card and they were all i had. but that's not why.
it was is a stunningly cold day in shytown. i started foolishly in shorts and tshirt, added a coat and the wind kept coming and the temp dropping and boyo was i grateful to be sitting with cats at the end of the day thanking r. with a view and a glorious hot shower. oh, h.g.
i want to insert this from the catonsville nine here just because it's the anniversary and still so acutely apropos today: 
"we have chosen to be powerless criminals in a time of criminal power. we have chosen to be branded as peace criminals by war criminals."

i was thinking as i watched them in black and white on celluloid burn draft records with homemade napalm, today there would be no paper to burn, no draft, and all the records remain still as indelible as the records of burned bodies. the symbolism still works. we forget, but we are reminded, and we remember what we forgot is still going on, in the future of then.
lastly, you remember that creep that stopped me in the tunnel a while ago? the one who said about the pointers, those are real dogs, dogs with balls, dogs that come with guns and big dicks? i saw him creeping by the park today. he was walking with two people he seemed to not actually be with, who had the body and eye language of wanting to get away from a crazy man, and he was saying, with a infinitesimal glance askance at me, as if addressing me obliquely, they're like ticks, these people against the obomba (sp.) center, they're ticks, they wanna suck the life out of this place. i think he's just the evil kind of crazy. when obomba was pres. he'd have been calling him a lefty socialist. he just wants to provoke, and be on the asshole side of everything, including sweet natured dogs, who certainly don't bear arms, nor have such ugly propaganda spewing from their mouths. big dick with a gun.
after he creeped by, i thought, sure, though he seems in perpetual crazy mode, oblivious to his audience and everything communal, he must have seen me and the pointers, hilde placidly munching grass, and me asking comet to poop. and i could have barely noted his grim passing, but it fits in the whole puzzled scheme we're in, this sad sick unfolding, so i had to put him in.