it's getting hard to tell what's real. the non-humans have a hard time living with us, but they know what's real, and they don't have to think about propaganda, though everyone alive suffers from it. i'd really like to go some place where there are no explosions for so-called independence day. dude, this mulberry tree is popular, right? 

 gee it's good to see you again mister. i found this memory card at the studio and there you were, basking in the sun at pebble beach. i just went there and saw a fellow who knew you and saw me and you swimming for several years. people still remember me because of you. you've been gone three years. in my mind i still talk to you. i hope i will always talk to you.

 ok check this out. i put my "new" memory card in and it has some murky green underwater pictures on it. i think weird, that must be from the internal memory. i plug it in and it has 867 pictures and none of them mine. i dump those and look for another memory card and i find 16 pictures with mister and hilde and comet, all dead dogs now. i'm the only one on the memory card still alive.

when i got home my old memory card wouldn't read and i thought i lost the pictures and i put it in the little camera and plugged that in and voila the pictures appeared so now i toss the dead memory card and put in a fresh memory card and go swimming. 

 it was so hot lulu's foot-long tongue was hanging down to her knees and the park district chuckleheads turned the mist fountain off. we ate some mulberries and some sour cherries and some black raspberries. it was too damn hot for dogs and even berry picking. i scratched my leg and got blood on my shorts.

 

it's so hot and muggy and smokey it's affecting everyone's brain waves. i saw the white pigeon, then i saw bug under the train tracks eating lunch. the white pigeon was standing in the middle of the road. as soon as i said hi to bug and see the white bird an autopilot crashed into the bird. i cried out and the bird flipped and shook and walked around and i said you've got to get out of the road! and the bird flew by bug and then out of the arcade. 

 what defines our changed existence is a new humility: failure has humbled us, and healing can come from there.

...humility involves a certain type of insertion into the world, and a distinct way of experiencing the human condition.

costica bradatan,

in praise of failure/ in a fallen world

 

eventually, we create so many machines, to solve so many types of problems, that we end up working full-time for them. 

costica bradatan,  

in a fallen world

 since intelligence is not static, but a process, it stays alive only if we keep it in motion, which happens whenever we respond to a challenge.

costica bradatan 

in praise of failure: four lessons in humility

 word of the day, from in praise of failure: stultification.

 the city appeared briefly last night in haze-enhanced colors to advertise the impending insane road race but by morning it had lapsed into a deep narcotic smokey waking sleep.

 somehow we have to slow down and breathe and keep our wits about us in the midst of the smoke of encroaching wildfires megadevelopments imperial war state terror and killer capitalism—slow down and witness and endure if we can through the impending collapse maybe there's an afterword for us. 

let us not collapse
and fall into
the annihilating patterns
that surround us.
let us dissent
from the death machine.

 

there's no escaping the god of failure.

 

 

so, i dropped migrations and the dreams of animals, wait was that the title? do i have to go look? they are about animals, ok, and the virus, and the human crisis, and that stuff is interesting of course, but it's already like a genre, they're popularized, and that's kind of the kiss of death with me, anyway, i had five books already and more on the way, so i'm moving on to in praise of failure, four lessons in humility. good luck to me.

 it looks like i'm surveilling bug but i just happened to be in the window surveilling the obamachron and saw bug passing across the future obamachron playground. as above, so below. mister bug.

 crisis? what crisis? all i see is prime real estate and unlimited opportunity.

 inspiring the hucksters of tomorrowland.

 HOPE TO ACTION WELCOME INSPIRE EMPOWER CONNECT MAKE ME THE OLIGARCH OF YOUR DREAM PARK.

city of smoke and ghosts.

 

 i'm reading the memory of animals. i'm not going swimming. i might watch and see if downtown appears from the smoke. i hope there's a deluge for the road race. i picked a bowl of black raspberries in the secret garden. imagine if there were no berries. imagine if there were no crows. it's been a week since jaspy died. i just rolled a string of his fur that was blowing by my chair and tied it around my pinky.

 how can we stop the terror state?

 think about the dystopian gaffs and the polarities the sucking of groundwater and damning of rivers the massive weight of armaments exploding countries earthquakes tsunamis wildfires barbie melt and plastic death the destroyer of worlds crimes of democracy the future now iraq ukraine bush biden time doh whats the difference monocrops and old growth burn as one the obamachron and armageddon all's one. 

And now we rise

And we are everywhere

And now we rise from the ground

Nick Drake

 

 aren't we so tired of criminals ruling us? raging wildfires, road racing downtown, an oligarch in the park—and that's just one city. where is it going, how will it end?

 the air's dangerous. while the city is rendered invisible by smoke from wildfires a road race is set to start in the loop with ninety degree turns at speed and eyes blinking with smoke brain. welcome to the human race. 

The US calls itself a democracy but is in fact a plutocracy. 

(The Economist Intelligence Unit categorizes the US a “flawed democracy”). 

The rich and corporate lobbies finance the political campaigns, 

and in return, the government delivers low taxes for the rich, 

freedom to pollute, and war. 

Private health companies dominate healthcare. 

Wall Street runs the financial system. 

Big Oil runs the energy system. 

And the military-industrial lobby runs the foreign policy. 

(Jeffrey Sachs)

...and the oligarch is in the park. hope to action.

 it's not a gift to the city, it's a betrayal of the people and an environmental crime.

 i was asleep, i think i was asleep and thought of him, i thought of him purring the last time, and i thought of him following me and sitting quietly by me and looking up at me, and i heard his voice, soft and burbling or urgent, and then i looked back a while and found him sleeping on r.'s pillow just like a little angel boy.

 
in a minute the sun will vanish in the haze.

20 acres and a renegade.

 

thank you for your fine snide slogans, obama—huckster!
 

 air quality PM2.5, 258, ozone 122. reporting from the obamachron. hey, it's green, certified, no fucking problem, hope to action, kids.

 every day obamachron workers smoking chronic under the train tracks. i got brain smoke breathing wildfire haze. i can't even walk dogs high let alone build ivory towers. i'm not jealous though, oh no, i'd have to get high to work at the obamachron, but then i probably would just wander off.

 air quality 258, very unhealthy, thanks obama, for your grift to the city and the world.