Monday, June 18, 2012

Post-Traumatic Kites Disorder

My memories come all pre-paid and preprinted on larges sheets of sturdy but light fabric. Not paper, but paper-like. Each sheet is painted brightly in moving colors, sounds, and all senses, then lifted aloft like a kite held by thin strong filament for retrieval.

But I do not control the reels. The memories can charge in, spool winding madly, tear off from their balsa-wood frames, and envelope me in their prismatic net. This is allowed.

Some might call this an "issue." I prefer not to.

Not to speak of anything in isolation. Gestalt. Issues and issues.
Back issues. All the original covers, sealed in amber (heh!) but tethered by such long strings as to allow some kites to hide away concealed by distance or blending in among familiar constellational groupings.

In such situations it is beneficial to befriend the breezes. Never bad advice, eh mate?

When I think of kites, I cry.

Talking to my boss about this didn't go well. I was relieved, or fired, or maybe they set up the paperwork so it appears that I quit. No matter.

It's not about my unsupportive and hostile ex-employer. It's not about blame, though I certainly maintain my own responsibility for the things that I said. It's not Me. It's not even about kites and strings.

It's about reels.


Of course a good proper hurricane would blow them all away indiscriminately, with it unfortunately as well as all the people and their delicious beach-time snacks and non-alcoholic cold fizzy beverages.

The simple solution is to dispense with the destructive intrusive memories by forgetting them. Find the tether of each and burn the connection. But that guarantees nothing. Nothing but the freeing of the kites.

Of course they're indestructible because they are forever interred in the unchanging past. Illustrative kites carved in eternal first mass.

The temperature has crept up to 97 F. The morning breezes have slowed to less than a trickle.

Arizona is burning.

East Valley tells and shows more.

Yes. It occurs to me that kites can be burned.

Monday, June 04, 2012


A "neoloathism" is a woefully, achingly, soul-destroying neologism that typically has a bucket of hate in it. Limbaugh does this. "Feminazi." There, *poof* it's a word. It's a neoloathism, a new word for a new way of hating people. I make have originated this word myself. I did a couple routine web-search-engine thinsg for it and got zip.


"AheadPhones" are new Apple products that allow you to hear into the future. Not really.


I may have mentioned this idea before because I'm proud of it: The "iProd." It's an iPhone with a built-in Taser.


We were walking the dogs a couple weeks ago. It was that time of each spring when people clean out their closets and sheds. In front of almost every house we saw on our walk had a pile of stuff out in front of it. One pile had an old set of wooden-shafted golf clubs and I took a discarded two-iron.

Nobody ever uses a two-iron anyways.

See what I did there?

That's not all folks. You also get the ginsu knives. I used irony to make that joke. In our home this is a form of what we call "Fractal Humor."

Going back- I left the golf club inside our front door after we got home. The morning was starting to get hot and the dogs were ready to cool off. Me too. Spousie told me that the golf club "freaked them out." We talked a little about it.

I made a little sign and attached it to the club. It read: "Please Do Not Use on Family Members."

Spousie said "What about good friends?"

"Suppose one of them gets really out-of-line?" I asked.


Standing outside our front door on the little bridge/doorstep that goes over the koi and goldfish pond.


"Pulling yourself up by your own boots" is supposed to work for people who are so poor that their boots are strapless.


"Rich people suck." Okay, that's not a neo-anything. But the phrase did obtain a fresh shade of meaning after the Paris Hilton sex-video came out years ago. Actually I haven't seen it but I assume there's stroking, blowing, sucking, licking and such things involved. Sex is so... oral.

Maybe I have said too much...


I just heard a coyote. It's 0455. I have to go make sure the cats are in.