Friday, December 25, 2015

Off dead center

I'm a point, a location in space-time, with about a 90 degree lateral view in one direction, which I'll call forward, and a  perpendicular view of about 30 degrees.

The point of me is frequently in motion, relative to a much larger thing called planet, and you can keep on scaling up until you reach the boundary of what is possible to perceive over the vastiest distances of space and time. Beyond that... I give it a big fat raspberry, because it'll never hear it anyway.

The me point, at its absolute highest resolution, is zero-dimensional. You'd  think that would mean nothing, at first. I mean... zero, right? Zero dimensional. No bigness, or wideness, or heaviness, or stinkiness, or anything. No information at all, except for location, what? And hey, give that zero dimensional point a few seconds within which to exist, and then fart forward a couple of meters, and BANG! Your zero dimensional point becomes a one dimensional line, expressed through the fourth dimension of time.

That's what I am. A zero dimensional point with this cone of perception extending forward and away from the point of me and into three dimensions, preceding me along a line through the fourth dimension of duration; and in the process, leaving behind just a complete mess of a one dimensional timeline.

I dunno how that thing is ever gonna get untangled and straightened out. I think, maybe...

Maybe, if somebody way back when would have had litten the far beginning of it, and if it would have had burned and sizzled and zipped forward like a fuse and all up that tangled timeline in a forward manner, that then maybe I will have had seen it coming some day. I'll'd have seen that sizzling spark, in reverse, blasting forward and into the future at tachyon speed, and maybe I'd have been able to be seeing it coming after me, barreling through time, somehow.

I'd have to have had remembered it to see it, but maybe I would... uh, keep remembering something. Remembering it brighter and sizzlier every time, just before I remembered it, until I am and was sure, that it was and would have been only a minute ago that the world will explode around me.

I'm sure I remembered it that way...

Just a second ago.

Wednesday, December 23, 2015

Rich enough

Wouldn't it be awesome to be rich enough to have an apartment in every single apartment complex in Denton? So if you're out walking, and suddenly you need to take a dump, or you need a band-aid, or you're hungry and need a sandwich, or your phone needs a charge, or you're just fed up and want to lock yourself inside four walls, a ceiling and a floor, and a door... there, you'd have it. All of those things. Just a hop, skip, and a jump away from almost any phenomenon.

Wouldn't that be cool? And you could have houses where there ain't any apartments, so you're covered.

Cool, right? All you need is money. Bunches. Money in bunches, that is. Not so difficult.

Ok, that's what I'm gonna do.


Ok, there's this song by 311 called Transistor, and the awesomest part goes like this (lyricwise):

You're a transistor
A lightning resistor
Conductor to the mother star
That's what you are

So I was listening to that, because Transistor kicks a certain amount of boo-hiney - which, as it just so happens to be - is exactly the maximum amount of boo-hiney that can be kicked before shitzkies start flying into the fan.

So, that was happening, and for one of those rare, elusivial moments, time stopped and I was genuinely happy and at peace.


Man. It was awesome.

And to top it off, another just went whizzing by. An even awesomer one, just 47 seconds ago.

It was pretty cool, man.

Blue and orange

Blue and orange. If you let the sky roll over, and you hang around for it, that's what happens, slowly. Blue and orange.  They're complimentary colors, by the way.

It's best if you're not careful at all, so that you can be taken by surprise, because...  which is better, anticipating a beautiful thing, or having it knock you over the head while you're daydreaming?

This is what baffles me. It just rips away my ego. It tears a hole in my necessaries and shreds my gives a craps.  And it's just a couple of colors thrown onto the world, is all it is. It scares the shit out of me that one day I'll die, and that I'll miss so much beauty.


You know, things can be really terrible for Joe Schmoe. A regular person can suffer quietly for years, and nobody'd ever notice.


What's still great about everything is the element of surprise.

4:48 am

It's 4:48 AM (I wish it was earlier; more time for this) and there is a lightening storm on the eastern horizon. It's blazing away like a crazy thing... an experience which, by its mere description and wonderable purpose, provides a beyondness separate from the fromthing of your before... you know. The thatnesses. The THATNESS of an object or phenomenon which demands your constant attention. THAT essential item required for the maintenance of your own sanity. THAT thing... the thing that you must do, so that THAT person doesn't have to suffer an undue amount of his own THATNESS, because you let your THATS became THOSE, escaped from your self control. By kind of selfishly removing yourself from them, you know.

THAT, the one I mentioned earlier, happens once you become separated and cast away from the things that you value as having worth (funny how hatred and misery become a tradable commodity) such as rent and bills and money and all of the built in common denominators of life that I am forced to use to calculate the color of the final reduction. God help you if your fractions aren't ready, for the world of decimals and long division awaits. As if...

Why does injury invariably require insult? It's as if Ms.Pate was just waiting... as if it were her sole purpose, after terrorizing two generations of families, to infiltrate every funeral of every family she contaminated and injured, as if she had the right - the gall to assume that living in the same small town and teaching horror, not long division, to the kids of her previous experiments, made her ok. And that it gave her any kind of right to insinuate her shitstink into the memory of my grandpa's funeral.

Do I seem bitter about this? I just realized, that maybe I do...


So, has anyone pissed on Ms. Pates' grave yet?  20 years ago, when the old witch finally croaked, I swore to. I haven't yet. That witch terrorized two generations of Davis's. Now that so much time has passed, I dunno if I will... I don't think it would be right. But that... Creature... was a cruel sadistic monster who garnered enjoyment, mostly through inflicting terrorizing humiliation upon the fourth grade children entrusted to her charge. I was one, my sister was one, my brother was one, heck, even my dad was one. We all suffered under that evil bitch.

I got sucked into a digression of my own device for a minute or two hours there. I was originally talking about a lightening storm. What happened? I know, but I'm not telling. But, I have it all recorded for posterity to combustabulate about.

Anyway. I'm at the Baptist Church on Bryan and Crescent, and I'm gonna look for someplace higher to watch the lightening storm. That's really all I wanted to say. And that was two hours ago.

Ice cream.

Tuesday, December 22, 2015


Consider for a moment, if you will... the common banana. It's the fruit - a berry, actually - of a large, herbaceous flowering plant. One of the millions of species of living things with which we share this beautiful blue orb, floating serenely through the cosmos. Small. Yellow. Unobtrusive. Conveniently packaged. Tasty. Friendly. On your side. In your corner, and rooting for you. Benign. Harmless... Oh. And it wants to kill you.

Consider for another moment... potassium-40. A radioactive isotope of potassium, with a half life of ONE BILLION, TWO HUNDRED AND FIFTY ONE MILLION YEARS. It's the only known isotope that undergoes all three types of beta decay, emitting electrons, neutrinos, anti-neutrinos, positrons, and gamma rays. You know... little tiny teensy weensy things that will kill you dead, dead, DEAD.

So. You know all that potassium that bananas are jam-packed with, that you've always been told is 'good for you'? Well, surprise! That potassium just happens to be potassium-40!

If you eat 10,000,000 bananas all at once, you will CERTAINLY DIE from RADIATION POISONING!


If you eat 274 bananas a day for seven years, you will experience CHRONIC SYMPTOMS of RADIATION SICKNESS!


If you blend 10,000,000 bananas together for one 12 oz smoothie, the potassium-40 will reach CRITICAL MASS and undergo FUSION, initiating a chain reaction and unleashing 100 megatons of NUCLEAR HELL!

Bananas. Who knew?