the parade must go on

Memorial Day, the day we recognize and honor the fallen soldiers - and the survivors of war.
The war of Iraq might have stipulated 80,000 civilian deaths and casualties in its five years existence, and thousands of deaths on the military side. Soldiers die, that is what they go to war for. It is their duty and commitment. They bought into it. It was always this way, it will continue to be that way. Soldiers are the suckers of the establishment, the rulers extension of force. I feel sorry for their ambiguous ambitions.
Yes, it is important to preserve your country, your life, your culture - and the military can have a vital role in this. The role of soldiers in this scenario play a vital role. But the arms of the octopus of US ambitions has reached its limits, the beast has been washed ashore. The states we live in is the state of the United States (somewhat united)of America. That is what we should care most about. Forget the military bases all around the globe, the ones in South Korea, the German ones, the splattered ones on unknown islands, the camps we maintain in Eastern Europe who rival Guantanamo Bay. Let's forget or foreclose the trillions we spend annually on death and war, payed by the idiot taxpayers like me and instead invest into life, the soil we live on, and not all this foreign territory - unless of course we wish to go down as the second Roman Empire.
There is no real conclusion to this post. It is history to be watched. We will see. I just have to note that the misery in Asia has peaked to levels in human casualties that rivaled in five days what has happened in Iraqi in five years. This is not a moral statement, it is only an observation.
We must endure!

harbor

While I am painting the house, I am also babysitting the house - and a dog, while the master is away. The dog is something else. When I go to bed, I usually sport an array of different blankets, layers to be fit for any kind of temperature change. The dog adds to the equation, snuggling under blankets wherever he can find them. At least he doesn't snore, like the majority of you!

what's in the title of a post?

"I am leaving with the last ferry. You can have the island for yourself for the next few days."
He spoke eloquent, as if he could endow peoples content and happiness by sheer presence. He left. The void of the island-villain did not punch a hole into my psyche, instead his departure resurrected tense muscles in my neck to almost normal conditions.
Island life is direct and immediate. What you seed is what you get back. Manhattan is an island as well, but you can drown there as a black dressed person, loosing everything that makes up your individuality, your face. In Manhattan there are no immediate check and balances, you stay anonymous. Not so on this island in Maine. Everybody knows, everybody hears, about everything you do. Something to consider.
Those considerations are not part of the equation to my "island-villain" friend, part of the reason that he doesn't make it here, on this island.
"It is fascinating to see and observe how you dig into my stash of food lately, without giving it a second thought, or even asking. Don't you have enough cash to buy your own beans for the morning coffee, or are you just that cheap kind of guy?" I asked. There was no conclusive answer. Instead he was telling me the same old story again, the one I have heard twenty two times before, the one of doing this and that, the one where one expects a congratulating clap on the shoulders from the listener. It exhausts me. Self manufactured praise is the cheapest form of gratification. It is so sad to see a friend go down that road. There is no return, there is no passage. Pity replaces valuable bonds you once had in common. There is nothing you can do, you just stay patient and wait it out...

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Little tidbits of island life, the pictures are from outside the library where I park my truck to get internet connection. The story of island life is not sad, the story is infectious. More later...

Happy Mom's Day

Here are a few flowers from my garden for the mothers of this world. I give you in particular Japanese cherry blossoms. They are not pink, they are not white, they are not purple but a mysterious blend thereof. A painters dream or nightmare - depends...
My beloved ocean (and island) is calling me. My internet chit-chat will probably decrease - or surprisingly implode for the next three weeks, who knows.
Before I forget, the ...
... ahh, you can finish that sentence yourself.
Zee ya!

present misery in Lebanon - a long rant

The Arabic name for Lebanon is Lubnan which means white - the colour of the Lebanese snow-covered mountains. Phoenician cities include Byblos, Baalbek and Tyre. Byblos, one of the world's oldest cities is inhabited since Neolithic times. Tyre is thought to be one of the oldest urban areas in the world.

Phoenicians who lived there were seafarers and traders. They were one of the first to use the Northen Star as a point of reference for navigation.
The Phoenician alphabet, which consisted of twenty-two consonants and vowels, provided the foundation of the alphabet used by us here today.

Part of Solomon's temple and palace were built using Lebanon's gorgeous cedar trees - and Jezebel, the wife of King Ahab of Israel, was a Princess of Sidon who became the Queen of Israel.

As you can see here on this skimpy overview of Lebanon, history is a meander and trail dug dirt deep, without any true recognition by the people of the present. People nowadays just don't care. They rather dance on superficial surfaces of given societies or retreat into religious ecstasy and violence. "History - teaches us nothing" ... to quote from a Sting song, the lead singer from the former pop group Police.
Why do I get into this train of thought? Maybe because it is my birthday today. I was born in Switzerland, a country comparable in size and population to Lebanon. And as Switzerland still enforces a law that prevents you to hang up laundry outside your house on Sundays, Lebanon has to deal with burning tires on roads, no matter what the day of week is. That is not fair.

The present situation in Lebanon is grave. I just talked to someone this morning living somewhat outside of Beirut. I called there because I just wanted to know if that person is safe. The report I got back was not that cheerful.
The streets are blocked, and most importantly the road leading to the airport and the seaports are strangulated, cutting off all commerce and necessary exchange to keep a small country rolling. On the other hand, a plane originating from Iran was allowed to land, spewing out a bunch of mercenaries, now hiding in certain sections of the capital city, waiting for the orders to be spelled out for them.

The incapacitates to form a formal government in Lebanon is beyond my reach. The misery experienced by the people there due to the lack of such formation is part of a larger regional problem.
I was going to book a flight there for September, now I am not so sure anymore.
I'd rather see my friend back in NYC....

In lieu, or parallel to the human catastrophe happening in Burma right now, this here in Lebanon seems to be a petty matter. But the cyclone, who hit the shores far east, was nature given. In Lebanon it is the doing of human will ... or the lack thereof, and perhaps also the endless fight for power of different entities, preventing unity to happen even whenever a temporary compromise had been carved out.
In the long run such tendencies have proven to be more destructive than any cyclone nature can produce.
--------------------------------
UPDATE (May 10th):
It seems that tranquility has been achieved between the Sunni dominated people in West Beirut and Hezbollah (Shiah) who occupied it, and the government, thanks to the army from all peoples there is... The army demanded to go back in time, before the crisis started and established those parameters again.

UPDATE (May 11th)
unfortunately not all is solved as of yet...

The human center is the heart,
skin surrounds the rest.

That is all I know - for today.

copper relief mounted on exterior studio wall

girls and boyfriends

As my hormones drop dead in the dozens, I can at least rest assured that younger ones don't have to deal with that issue yet. So at a fine "block-party" my daughter and her newly found boyfriend socialize with the kids of the neighbors. It is refreshing to observe this energy in youngsters, may they be 8 or 18.
Before you know it, they also will rule the world. And that's a good thing. The lame old guard of "US" has to retire, step away. In that respect I agree with Obama - we need change! Even though his mission is vague at times, I do support his vision. The "House of Clinton" lack this kind of enthusiasm. Enough of this boring politics - the time will come when those youngsters grip the rudder. That is the time I am truthfully looking for. And I hope that then I still will be alive to see it all.

equal longitude and latitude does matter

The first map is the traditional style found in every contemporary atlas. It enhances the northern hemisphere by cheating the latitudes running through the US, Europe and Russian areas by increasing "the view" in simply changing the scale ratio.

The second map is closer to what the world really is. The latitudes are put down in constant increments. Therefore South America and Africa show their real size in comparison to their "Eurocentric" neighbors.

Just for an example, watch the transition of the Scandinavian countries from one map to the other. Fairly dramatic space change there.

I post this because I am bothered that students and other people still live with that image of a "warped" world imagery. An image that has nothing to do with physical reality.
I might also be inclined to say - and you can call me a racist if you wish, that nothing much of importance originated culturally, spiritually and constructively from the southern hemisphere in the last millennium. Maybe that is why the maps got "warped". Either way, down south they would adopt "western-culture" and made it suit their own, or they live in famine, desperation, genocide, religious extremisms or dictatorships. No, this was not a rant about how grand "western culture" works today. It doesn't have a chance for the future - don't copy the present decaying stream. That wasn't my point.
This post was more about the actual facts of graphical size, not the supposed "qualities" of different nations and regions in the world. That latter thing I might ponder upon an other time ...
In the mean time, create your very own image of what is what. But keep in mind, the world below the equator is larger than you think, that in fact was all I tried to say!

new post to (in?) vanity

It might be of interest to you that I follow all the news on the radio, actually that might not be of interest to you at all.
But then folks get killed by tornado's and troubadours, so I hear lately and you stay startled. Others perish in Iraq or Afghanistan. Well, Afghanistan will keep the poppies growing to supply the west with needed narcotics so we can survive mentally. Iraq will supply the west with needed oil so we can still produce bicycle tires once the oil runs out and once there are no more cars on the road. What? that makes no sense at all ...
All right then, let's try this again.
Iraqi oil resources are being estimated to be the second largest oil reserve in the world after what the Saudis got. No, I don't lie this time - do your freaking research on your own time and confirm this for yourself, if you wish.
What in all earth does this have to do with troubadours and bicycle tires?
Well, it is so damn easy. Troubadours sing the wrong tunes these days - and tires are made of raw crude oil.
Both avenues will run out of steam, eventually.
We'll see what disintegrates first, the song or the rubber.
In any case, this story is not cheerful (again?). What now!

Plant more vegetables - the only source of your survival kit.
Use pots and pans in Manhattan. It actually works, many tried it successfully.

My "gloom" these days is maybe a lack of testosterone or some other kind of depreciation. What the hell do I know. In any case, you be well and stay sane, plant your crops and race with me to catch up on carrots or peas. Good luck. That kind of action would be indeed better than playing the lottery.

Empire State building NYC, March 2006

times of trial

So what shall I blab about. My own tribulations or yet an other political sinister disappointment scribbled on the horizon of this blackboard? Chalk is cheap.
While I ponder, stare at the picture. It is my "downtown". The house on the left is the "mount" (Mount Washington Hotel, talked about that one before) - the one on the right is the local wine store who also serves an abundant palette of eatable gourmet delicacies.
I am sitting on the porch of the Hillsdale House (the other eatery and pub). My truck is parked at the junction, the black Jaguar from someone I don't know, just in front of my nose.
Whenever I am here I will order a black Guinness; sit, smoke, drink. The simple life.
After one drink I usually go home. Not today, I crossed the border to Massachusetts and had a fine Indian meal. Sometimes you have to pamper yourself. (right Seraphine?)
I will be leaving to the island in Maine again in a few days. It all depends in how quickly I am able to clean up the mess here in Hillsdale, NY. (spring cleaning)
In Vinalhaven I will be scraping, then painting a house. Somehow some money has to roll in. I can't wait for our government to hand out bittersweet chocolate bars in evening hours that can be consumed in a matter of minutes. Oral delight without might. So there you are, now I ended up ranting about myself after all, due to a void of other stories at hand.
See you around with other news next time - greetings Lukas. (Zee)

I am searching for something more cheerful

but you might have to wait until tomorrow, or the day thereafter

the government stimulation survival kit

Not all is gloom and doom - but finding the light ain't that easy either.
Bush and company decided to return a bit of money we had earlier payed them and put it back into our pockets. This is supposed to "stimulate" the economy and also take the edge off the down-spiraling housing market which contributed to the present world wide financial mayhem.
So far so good. We get a droplet of our money back, and then we are supposed to spend it again, to rejuvenate the machinery of consumerism. A capitalists dream come true by means of socialiststic measures. Ironic, to be presented by a Republican administration.
The first electronically transfered deposits are out now; paper checks will follow in May, all in the range of $600 dollars. But before you know it, that dow (stash) will be spend and gone. But on what? People on the street admitted, they will use it to pay off some credit-card debt, use it for gas, and try to counteract high food prices.
$ 600 (sixhundred dollars) - what a joke. No, it is not a joke - it is an insult! Six hundred will get you nowhere these days. It is a sugary lollipop to US citizens who didn't crave for this but will take it anyway because it is "for free" and sweet - free in the sense that it originated by the people, for the people.
The day I get my paper check, I will light a match and burn it. I will have nothing to do with it. And as I watch the flames leap, ponder about where the value of $600 dollars went astray.
I might be old, but I am still stuborn.

in other news:
-the devaluation within the US housing market has reached double digit percentage rates, houses get evacuated and stay empty - banks who lend the money in the first place simply drown
-the dollar is worth a whopping 0.68 Euro (used to be worth about three German Marks or 3 Swiss Franks when I arrived here)
-the crude is up $120 (was $20 when I got here - and I am not thaaaaat old)
-US main investments are overseas, about 4 billion dollars a month in Iraq
-US investments in their homeland is $600 per person ... not per month, just once for this year
-many US airlines get grounded because they neglect regular maintenance; business therefore comes to a screeching halt.
-Switzerland ranks first, the US 39th in a survey of 148 countries who are concerned about environmental issues
-I got new rims and tires for my truck
-we will have frost tonight

(Copper relief, 1986 - about 5 by 3 feet)

magnolia

two phrases, then I leave you alone. One from a movie script where Nicole Kidman played an interpreter (I just happen to love it), the other one is mine.

"Vengeance is a lazy form of grief..." (Kidman)

"My tattoos are invisible to the naked eye, only those who perceive my heart will see them." (me)

the world of bits, bytes and peas

I always forget that I still have a sketchy presence on "facebook" until that very moment when somebody knocks at my "wall". Then I am startled for a few seconds, click on the link and surrender.
It is both fabulous and also scary what human relations come up with these days; pixels on the screen and bits and bytes for the most. The perfect illusion for the diet of anorexic souls.
Here are two excerpts of my own examples. One in response to a surprise visit on that "facebook" today, the other a chunk of a plain old e-mail I responded to:

"...anyhow, you look pleasantly beautiful on the pics you posted on facebook, but my demented mind is not able to place you into the memory slot needed to illuminate your actual being in context.
In other words, who the heck are you?
Take all the apologies you possibly can and push them forward in a wheelbarrow, take them from me since I can not recognize you instantly. That will have to do for now.
So, who are you then for real?
You must help.
Please!!!!
No, I don't particular care for facebook - though it does amaze me who and what comes popping up at times...no punch intended.
I hate the surveys, they make a lame conversation; I hate the commercials and overcrowded options (blogger doesn't have any of this, so I guess you have to create posts without the help of "events", "fun walls", "super walls" and the like...)
OK, I bitched enough. Please fill in the blanks at your leisure."

.............................................................................


"... just take this then - I still have your tattoo engraved in my heart, unless you cut it out, it will stay there forever...and once in a while I wake up, don't worry - it's only once in a while. Then I see you quite clear, crisp as the inners of a freshly cracked walnut. Delightful. Of course when the day goes on, or the following days go by - all fades again into a blur.
But what I really wish to say I guess, is that I still care for you tremendously. So all your joy and sorrows, your ecstasy and pain, your hopes and dreams, your thoughts and passions ... all of those things still mean something to me, even though I am removed, half away around the globe."
.............................................................................

A tremendous amount of emotions - pleasure, pain, joy suffering and bullshit on the internet is posted each second of each day. But where can it be found, where does it go to, is it actually for "real"? Is such substance saved when my computer crashes or does it simply evaporate into thin air? What happens at a power outage, or even worse - how are we going to communicate when all oil and power runs out for good?

There once lived a decent initiate who said:
"If humans would have not invented the telephone and hence become completely dependent to this gadget, they would have instead grown inner faculties, replacing this primitive mechanical tool and communicate without hardware throughout space and time."
Somehow this "rings a bell" even though we have disassociated our mental (telepathic) capabilities, put them into dormant slumber.
The "web" has arisen to be the source of liberation ... on one hand. On the other, it suffocates and strangles true human emotions and virtues - and it has evolved to be the only crutch we didn't even asked for. Our dependency to this "machine" (computer and net) is close to birthing bad alive copies of virtual mechanical intelligence found in hard and software, with the difference of having to maintain eroding physical bodies - inferior, that is us, with "ERROR" written all over the forehead.
One of these victims is me.
Happy weekend though, and plant something for real, something like peas!
We'll eventually show who is stronger - me or the machine!

let us try this poll thing again, simplyfied!

Ok, I demolished this "new" poll as well. There is no sense in it - and worse of all, it stopped to work. There is no fun in that.
So therefore you have now the only sole option to shriek, scream, shout, whisper, mumble, or phrase your comments about "background music" from Rodrigo Y Gabriella's version of Stairway to Heaven and if this running app is an appropriate thing for this blog.

On other news. I listened to a commentary on PBS by Herb London (I think that is his name). He went out of his way to demonize Iran as the next culprit to slay, the next target for the US empire to crush. He said: Let's get them now before it is too late, before they get nukes. Now or never. What a retarded bitch. Let's blow everything up. Perhaps when the dust settles we can evaluate valuable rocks on the ground. So was his thinking.
This comment comes after Israel already had pulverized a secret nuclear plant six or seven months ago, flew planes over Syria and then bombed the shit out of the place. How come nobody knew then? Who gave this intel to Israel?
So Herb London is a late bloomer and worse, a creature with instant potato bud mush expanding by means of hot water in a skull that used to house a needed brain.
I feel sorry for misguided people like him. I also feel sorry for Public Radio who in the name of "equal speak" puts morons like him onto the air. A waste of my energy, a waste of your time.
What does this have to do with North Korea and their ambitions? I gladly say: I don't know! Perhaps the Syrian nuclear reactor was a similar design to what North Korea had produced. (wasn't their reactor an assembly put together by Russian technology)?

Whatever the case, without mercenaries (paid killers) the US will look bland on the circus of world events. So here is a hail to Blackwater and Halliburton and CO, the cronies who craved payback-time and got it delivered by Bush and Cheney.
As oil prices rise and the dollar drops even further, it is fascinating to see the dragon drown in black blood. Saddam was right on: Give me oil revenues in Euro's! His death sentence thereafter was historical. Had we just been patient and "waited out" his regime as we did with Tito in former Yugoslavia, the world world would run and spin with more content.
So I soaked some pee pods (seeds) today, will plant them later. You bet they will not be used to produce ethanol.

what does it mean?

Hillary Clinton got Pennsylvania - so what?
The fight goes on.
But does it matter, does it really do?
It is hard to tell, there will be losses,
on both sides, no matter what you do.
A tainted woman or a colored man - so is the Democrats ticket.
The Republicans go for an white-haired, aging veteran, a Vietnam Veteran. Awesome "color" choices for the slowly dying beast, ehh ...?
I like the tainted woman for her stamina.
I like the black guy for his continued enthusiasm for the US.
I like the white veteran who just can't give up.
I like them all, but would I vote for any of them?

You know, it doesn't really matter - because the "vote" has already been cast, the dice thrown from the cup held by shady "gray" men, tossed unto the table of destiny long before your own voices come to count. That is "US democracy" for you, the only so called export article we have left. Not necessarily a brilliant survival kit in times of economic decay I would say.

But don't be sad - cheer up and live your life joyfully.
That is all you really can achieve, this time around. (hint: reincarnation)
Kindle that spirit for your neighbor, your sisters and brothers - and you will have done much more than vaguely paste all your hopes onto the face of a useless paper ballot that may, or may not be counted at all.

Zee ya

crocuses in my garden today. Yes, old socks can even accumulate in kitchens - beware!

off tomorrow for three days to teach how to plunge peoples hands into clay - see you when I'm back.

Porch

It is not hard to sit on the porch and bitch, curse and mumble "fuck China" - liberate the red robed monks of Tibet, screw ethanol when half of the world is still starving, and food for the west ... or the rest, gets exuberantly expensive due to miscalculations by bureaucrats.
It is not hard to follow such lead, like the scent a dog would pick up.
What is hard is to keep composed, to see any light at the end of the tunnel.
The real torch is not a physical thing, run around the globe to end in Beijing.
That flame can be swiftly put out by any fire extinguisher. Re-ignition means nothing.
The flame we need today is of different nature. It burns persistent and forever, protected in the inner sanctuaries of our own being. Are we bold enough to let it show?
Humanity these days has one basic flaw: We have given up to hold the real torch and
paddle instead in a canoe that turns in circles. The vista is flattering, but reality draws different images, the ones we do not wish to see.
It is time to find new shores and let "the inner torch" burn bright.
So is my thinking, "on the porch" - during sunset, tonight.

168 spoons in 90 minutes - successful, but foolish

Kindergarten kids plainly drew a spoon footprint on a thin piece of wood and we cut it out for them. Then they were to sand...
First through third grade got a block of wood where they had to sketch a top view and a side view of their spoon design. With a band saw both contours were to be cut out. The block then was kept intact, taped together with a piece of tape to keep the seven piece puzzle together until the kids opened them up and found "their" spoon hidden in the middle. From 4th grade to high school, the children carved with gouges.
Unfortunately there was only two 45 minute sessions alloted per class. It is foolish to attempt to wing such a project in such little time. The prep and post-prep work was enormous, and that after having taught six classes every day.
But the children loved it, insofar this gig was successful. A small public school where the majority of children created their own individual spoon - somewhat unheard of!





So yes, I left the island on this morning ferry in peace, knowing that I put a droplet into the bucket of intellectual and abstract learning. May that drop dilute this illusionary materialistic vision that the human brain is the only isolated precious organ we have to succeed in this life.
Accomplishment is, in my view, not measured by what you think you can do, but by looking at what you actually have been able to create.
A surgeon transplants a heart. Only after the new heart starts beating, he or she can claim victory. All this has been achieved by the skill of human hands, not the human brain alone. If we don't bring the two together again, zombies will eventually inhabit the earth, incapable to take hold of the next task "on hand".

going back to the island ... for a week

You can hardly see it, but there is a beaver in this pond. Why would he choose this location, how did he get there? Even the cat shows semi interest.
Anyhow, I know that I have not been very communicative these days ...
I just want to warn you, it's even getting worse.
My nose dives towards North tomorrow, embracing the island I love.
Internet means little in such circumstances.