happy easter. I got up earlier and looked around and that silly rabbit must have forgotten about me. I'm not sure if you are suppose to have been good to get things at easter. maybe that explains the omission.
I work weekends but have off thursdays and fridays. last wednesday evening ms. plum paid me a visit. I think the plan was to watch a movie. on the way home I had picked up k-pax at power video. in honor of my arriving guest, I turned on my christmas lights that I still have on the balcony. red, blink, green, red, blink, green - it's not christmas or halloween.
so how come there are no easter lights? yellow and purple would be good to go. and easter would just be a start.
some people like to go out dancing. other people like us we've got to work.
i'm back. it only took me about 30 mins. round trip. i wore a gray trench coat and started out holding an open manila file folder over my head. about 1/2 way i chucked the folder and let the gentle rain mist my hair. every now and then an errant raindrop would glissade down my cheek.
it's 6:36 am est, not dark but not light. the car tires are making that spish/splash sound when they go by. and as i lay in bed looking out my balcony window, it is like two or three guys are peeing off the roof. it's raining.
my problem is i am here and it is not. i left my car at the tire place yesterday and walked home. i was going to walk back yesterday but i got waylaid.
oh well, it's not that far and walking in the rain without an umbrella might be fun.
Posted
4:54 PM
by robert d
pulling me a little closer - the march moon
i tried somewhat in vain
to reach a place
that waited for me
and then i tried again
in vain
to tell
of my forlorn journey
deep thick darkness
all around
i had lost my way
but then against
the chill of black
a warmth pulled with its welcome
and with the warmth
there came a glow
and i had found my way to her
again
they say from side of earth
she did pull
like eve
from rib of adam
and now forever
she does yearn
for the pull of home
pulled asunder
by forces strange
cool of night
and heat of day
mixed in star dust
mixed in clay
apart but not separate
always near
and pulling closer
yet always
not to touch
a little game
that these two play
a game that causes
time to sway
and waves
to swell and coo
and she still wonders
why
like a rock
tossed high
she does not fall
back again
into the arms
of the waiting sphere
below
(i just added this next part. maybe i should have saved it for next time but it is here now)
and with this
sadness
she moves slow
full faced
with stains
and scars
and shadows
bay of dews
oceans of storms
sea of tranquility
all where once
tears fallen
she's done a lot of gigs. she has done it about a gazillion times and she is getting ready to do it again. it is a big display and lots of people are going to be watching. but there is no dress rehearsal for this kind of thing. she just puts it out and lets it hang.
Posted
6:48 PM
by robert d
everyone should have one of these
yes, everyone should have one of these things, but I am not exactly sure what you call them. I am going to have to go through my garbage now and see if I still have the wrapping that the little thingamajig came in.
give me 20 seconds.
I'm back. not bad. just a few errant coffee grounds. actually there was some interesting stuff in the trash, but that is perhaps best left for another time.
according to the wrapping, the definitive term for the wonderful thingamajig is an "over door hook." you have to love the simplicity of the setup instructions - "to use, simply hang over top of door."
hey, I had my over door hook up and something that had been on the floor - smartly hung - in less than ten seconds.
hooks have been around for awhile, but I have always used the stick anywhere adhesive wall hooks. but before long I always encountered the - "oh shit! that little sucker pulled the paint and plaster right off the wall."
you always need a hook or two though, so I started drilling little wholes in the tops of the plastic hooks and then screwing or nailing them into the wall. it does work but it is somewhat inconvenient.
now with the over the door hook I have no excuse. you buy it. bring it home. open the package. and it almost installs itself.
I love my over the door hook. and you are not going to believe this but the hook is almost instantaneously adjustable. one, two, three…if you find a better place it's there. you can even take the hook with you when you travel.
unfortunately over the door hooks do not have a web site. I also checked ebay, no luck. so if you want to be - smartly hung - you are going to have to go out and find an over door hook thingamajig for yourself. and it will probably eventually occur to you that these little widgets also make the perfect gift.
Posted
5:42 AM
by robert d
7,000 gypsies gathered together
all hail to the good life. music midtown will be in atlanta - may 3rd - may 5th. about 75 bands and 100,000 people. i went 2 years ago and i think i had a great time.
i am planning on making this into a big photo shot. there ain't no way to delay, "d"'s out there snapping every day.
by-the-bye. the snap, to the left, is what it looks like when i am 12 frets under and looking for the blurrrrrr. actually it is a pixs of a tb 1000 standard - #1374.
it happens every year - the spring tease. buds and leaves and new shoots and flowers everywhere and then zap - a hard freeze.
it was suppose to have gotten down into the 20's last night. yesterday evening, i put old sheets over most of my outside plants. i just checked on them and they seem to have survived. either they like me a lot or it really didn't get that cold last night.
but hurray!! hurray!! today is a beautiful day. the sun is shinning and all the pretty colors are dancing. i think i will hang out at the pool.
many moons and suns ago, before there was copy & paste, delete, and print, I wrote a paper for english literature - " the inner mechanics of john milton as revealed by paradise lost." although only 8 pages in length, it is now considered by some to be the definitive piece on the topic - the blackest of swans - a rara avis.
at the time of its initial offering, however, it was not well received. the professor grading the opus, whose claim to fame was some forgotten tripe on d. h. lawrence, bled red ink all over the first page. and whatever his flaws he was consistent for there is red vitriol to be found on every one of the remaining pages except 7. I think I wore him out by then.
on the last page though, page 8, he must have gotten a second wind. here, for all eternity, in a rushed and sloppy, but large, red ink, he penned his most profound comment.
due to the above, I ended up getting the worst of all possible grades in the class - a b+.
the east wing of the guggenhein is different. the east wing of the gugg is where the experimental offerings are displayed - novel expressions of energy for the curious. in the east wing is where you will find shawn mckasen's - red under blue - 1989.
this 8 feet wide by 10 foot tall oil was obtained by the gugg, in 1994, from a korean collector for $32,500. red under blue is said to possess a spell. under your gaze red under blue continually changes.
although red under blue has its own merits, it is the method by which the work was crafted that adds to its cache. mckasen experimented with different modes of expression. shawn was looking for expressions pleasing to god. mckasen asserted that modes of expression pleasing to god were marked by their beauty.
it is rumored that shawn painted red under blue while being blindfolded. he was also loosely cuffed at the wrists, but not tight enough to prevent him from painting. an awkward but perhaps inspired way to paint.
it is said that when mckasen was finished with red under blue he begged for the removal of his blindfold so he could see if his efforts had been pleasing to god.
shawn mckasen died on march 18, 2000 of unknown causes.
and after the third day of practice, when the new students asked if the exercises were being done correctly, master phat would always answer the neophytes question with a yes, no matter what they were doing.
one of master phat's favorite sayings was, "who can really know what is pleasing to god?"
I start to wonder and get a little anxious just before spring. I wonder if they will come back, my bleeding hearts. for the last 3 years I have been blessed with two very virile bleeding hearts. my mother and my sister have a bleeding heart but theirs aren't in the same league as mine. theirs struggle; mine flourish. mine grow to be about 2 feet tall and delight in displaying their name sake.
I really don't remember planting the bleeding hearts but I must have. 3 years ago I was preparing for spring when I noticed some interesting foliage emerging from 2 of my planting containers. I thought they were weeds but the leaves were interesting so I left them alone to see what they would turn into. first lots of nice leaves and then - oh wow! - the cutest little pink hearts, like maidens all in a row.
pushing upward from below, isadora and duncan, made their first appearances yesterday morning. I took some snaps of the twins but they came out blurred. hopefully, if I can get some nice sunshine I can do better this morning.
I could not believe the sticky orange rectangular price tag affixed to the dark green bottle - . this must be the work of a harvard mba. - they will never notice the 19 cents.
no better that in a glance to see 19 instead of 17 and think that too close to 20 and hence the dark green bottle with the sticky orange rectangular tag is too expensive.
nonetheless, this elaborate scheme must have alluded me. last night I used the rabbit to defoil and open a 1989 newton cabernet sauvignon. it was good.
with a harangue of verdant greens and mandlebrot's galore. and then of course - to the ice cream - to the colors. nothing forgotten, all the highs and lows, across the spectrum she does shine.
and with just a touch only her colors will dew. all the others but a monkey's cut and paste.
soon she shall be with us and her kingdom awakens.
and no matter how you say your prayers, she has never cared. for she knows that as her kingdom makes ready, you too in your heart will make a place for her. together you will make colors and feel alive.
I collect triplets. a triplet is a word spelled three different ways, with each of the 3 spellings being pronounced the same. I call these freaks - trips.
I believe my first trip was vain/vein/vane. the next trip was probably something simple like - by/bye/buy or for/four/fore. after that trips kept popping up. it wasn't an everyday kind of thing, but every now and then I would get that little thrill of going - eureka - "oh wow!! I've found another trip."
and just when I thought I had all the trips that one could conjure with the english language, I came across another - rose, rows, roes. I had to hymn and ha to trice the trine and get this trip to work.
some will instantly reject roes as a candidate for inclusion. when referring to fish eggs, roe is the plural. much like shrimp but with more authority. (hemingway used shrimps - hum?)
however, roe is ambidextrous. a roe can be a fish egg but it can also refer to a type of deer often referenced in english mythology - the roe buck. a group of roe bucks can be referred to as roes.
I collect triplets. a triplet is a word spelled three different ways, with each of the 3 spellings being pronounced the same. I call these freaks - trips.
I believe my first trip was vain/vein/vane. the next trip was probably something simple like - by/bye/buy or for/four/fore. after that trips kept popping up. it wasn't an everyday kind of thing, but every now and then I would get that little thrill of going - eureka - "oh wow!! I've found another trip."
and just when I thought I had all the trips that one could conjure with the english language, I came across another - rose, rows, roes. I had to hymn and ha to trice the trine and get this trip to work.
some will instantly reject roes as a candidate for inclusion. when referring to fish eggs, roe is the plural. much like shrimp but with more authority. (hemingway used shrimps - hum?)
however, roe is ambidextrous. a roe can be a fish egg but it can also refer to a type of deer often referenced in english mythology - the roe buck. a group of roe bucks can be referred to as roes.
it was a pear. this was one of the inner order secrets of the night hags. something to dew with the juice being stickier.
for some time I have wanted to keep a garden calendar. a calendar on which I would record the dates of horticultural events. each plant has its comings and goings. each plant has its season.
well I have finally started. today, I am making my 3rd entry. the pear trees are blooming.
the white against the blue is enchanting but then there is the smell. I am not very good at describing scents but the fragrance of the pear blossom is unique. the best I can do is to say that the pear fragrance is a very unobtrusive sweet stink. actually a bit like almost burnt popcorn.
I was actually extra lucky today. not only did I snap some nice white and blue but I found a new friend for a short while. while out a little lady bug found her way to me. I looked down and there she was on my gray t shirt. I had to coax her a bit to sit still, but in the end she proved to be part of a perfect day.
what's new?
cut and paste
not much
the cloning of mediocrity
cut and paste
it's not mine
it's ours
cut and paste
I've been cut
and I have been pasted
and now I am stuck
upon a lifeless sea
with no gentle breeze
my only sail
the white clouds above
no sirens calling
rudderless in the abyss.
and after many days of such
I remembered the secret
and the secret was -
the secret was a lie.
"and this shall be my covenant with you
forever and always and then again;
you will always be special
for no two things will be the same."
but now I knew
my god had lied
for I've been cut
and I have been pasted
and now I am stuck
without a god
upon a lifeless sea.
I lose things. lucky for me I usually find them again. I guess lose is not the right word, misplace would be better.
I misplaced a favorite pair of sandals but found them again by becoming king. mr. phat wandered off and was hiding in a very special place, but I found him. things I know I have written disappear and reappear. it once took me several days to track down a companion piece I had written on newton. I finally found it in word under the title - no bobbing. and I still don't know where in milton's paradise lost, it is written - "hail holy light." it is not act v, scene v.
it's been splish, splash, raining all day. every now and then the scurrying of the wind caught hold of my chimes. not the cling clang dint of metal on metal, but the melodious tones of the gurgling wind. a gentle swaying, back and forth, between serenity and bliss.
"angels beating on their wings in time and from these zephyrs my songs."
fragile like a brick
she fell to ground
and with a thud
stayed
while the spin and pull
indented its way around her.
and there she fretted
messed and mooted
while the garden went astray
with snakes that could do more than talk
serpentine in song and dance
with rainbow dancing snakes akimbo.
hallelujah! hallalula!
the numbers grow
another fallen angel
on the scales
that do decide
a sway, a tilt, a rushing
forth
of atom moons
and rainbow sparkles
dipped in feckless fancy
quantum this
you little freak
as you bet it all
on seven.
he looked up at the wolf calendar neatly tacked to the wall near the shadeless lamp on his night stand - march 2002 - a mother with her cub. it was sunday - the 3/10/17/24/31 - the 2nd sunday - the tenth - march 10, 2002.
he looked to the right and squinted a bit to decipher the time on the white sony dream machine on the dresser up against the wall opposite the bed - 11:32. night stand - bed, let's go with 11:32 pm.
brandon was doing it again. brandon was writing about nothing and having a good time of it. brandon was having such a good time writing about nothing because in the back of his quirky little brain lurked a secret.
sure he was writing about nothing but then things can change. things can undergo a transformation, like the one-to-one correspondence mapping of sigma into not sigma. and brandon knew that the one-to-one correspondence mapping of nothing into not nothing was everything.
so on march 10, 2002, a bit before midnight, watched over by the wolves, brandon wrote about everything. as he wrote though, he wondered that if he was really writing about everything how come he was leaving so much out.
i flopka. he flopkas. she flopkas. it flopkas. you flopka. we flopka. they flopka.
the above was considered blasphemous. much like the apple in the garden, there was only one admonishment - thou shall not flopka.
about a week ago, 3/2/02, i came across a site - magic bus. this site is dedicated to a particular bus route in some obscure city. it isn't an oho,ah, wiz bang kind of site but nonetheless i liked it. magic bus was about the author's bus ride to work every morning. i relished its simplicity.
i thought each morning i would check the financial markets, the weather, check my email, and then kick back and take a little bus ride. i linked to the site - www.flopka.net/bus.html - but since 2/28/02, the bus doesn't seem to stop there anymore.
to flopka is the only sin. to flopka is to not post and published.
there is a difference between flopkaing and being flopkaed. many of us were flopkaed this morning. we tried to post and published but …
if you look closely you can see master phat examining the garden's first daffodil bloom. phat reminds himself to come back to this spot again to see whether the yellows are as he remembers. he will come back like the morning sun once the daffodil has opened. he will be pleased. the daffodil will be pleased. they will be pleased together.
Posted
3:05 PM
by robert d
meditations with master phat - vol 3 lesson ix
there are forces within us that do not communicate in words. instead, these forces communicate with symbols and gestures. their ways are found in meditation and ritual. with meditation comes the energy. with ritual comes focus and persistence.
it's a rosemary's baby conspiracy. everyone is a distraction. better yet, everything, is a distraction - especially modern conveniences. when you turn to other things your focus is lost.
concentration is a great power. you are constantly being abused by ways and means designed to impede your concentration and focus. the most insidious being the cathode ray tube - monitors and television. while in the waste land focus is lost, time stands still, and nothing gets done.
wondo - do now. the magic is indeed in the doing. you might not do it exactly right, but something is always better than nothing.
with patience and commitment, communion with les autres is possible. but the communication established is not direct. with persistence, linkages between symbols and meanings are established. then these ex ante correspondences are used to exchange information - communicate - between you and your shadow.
actually the area of communication is unresolved. the common dilemma being the identity of the entities communicating. is one communicating with oneself or are there others?
a disturbance in the force. a ripple in the welter. sigma is coming in, out of the cold, and she is putting out. it's coming from deep down - the good stuff - circle 3 and then some.
a worm whole is like a tick tock pendulum. from a state of rest it swings up and then the downward swing is free. once a worm whole is activated it takes on a life of its own. the devil is in the details but one becomes an angel.
(obiter dictum - repetition is a worm whole fundamental)
I work for 4 star productions. yeah it's kind of sleazy but they don't fuck with my chii. they let me smoke there and sometimes when the creaking sounds are too loud they even let me drink shooters if I stay quiet and don't disturb the paying guests.
4 star is at the lower end of the spectrum. we get all the shooting stars on the decline, second derivative stuff. but once a character, always a character. and the fallen know a thing or two.
I've been at star for over 15 years. I used to do camera and script stuff but now I just add to the ambiance. it's not as easy pulling it off as it should be.
still 4 star rocks. there are over 20 of us and to the bone, each and every one, is a banger. although 4 star is a bottom feeder, it is just a matter of perspective.
is there such a thing as a name? everyone at star has a handle or a moniker. the bean/ms plum/painty girl/feck/monk pasha/dog star/dr beats/bent/(girl scout) cookie/lula/kapt kopter/lena/brandon dba sucundus/rephat/rocket boy/master roderick/summa/xx euro trash/L dba elliot/lena/meow wow/evelyn/and me - robert "d" snaps.
Posted
8:13 AM
by robert d
stones gig things didn't turned out exactly the way I had planned, but I guess I can live with the shoot.
I took three shots. one au natural and the other two with flash. my digital camera is very sensitive to variations in light. the morning sunlight was only shinning on the top part of the album cover. regardless of au natural or flash the bottom part of the pixs came out very dark, like almost black.
the darkness can be deceptive though. I played around in photoshop elements with the flashed pixs, 2 and 3, and by equalizing and adjusting the bright and contrast settings I got the images to come out of the darkness and into the light.
I should have done a before and after tour of the pixs so you could see what they looked like at first and then how the different adjustments effected the outcome, but you can't always get what you want.
i am such a slacker. if you look close you will notice that the 3rd little string, the g string, is missing.
she asked me if I liked the stone's album - undercover - too much blood et. al.?
why not? - undercover has stuff on it that you can't get anywhere else. it's the real thing. and then I don't have the tape or the cd. I have the album.
on the cover is some topless chick with a few little stones stickers on her. it's tactile. you can actually feel the sticker things.
the list has grown from the original 27 to a list with over 40 trips. this is due to the remarkable talent and skill of a young wordsmith - dba - mmehitabel - dba - painty girl.
and then just when I thought I had finally found them all - eureka - "oh wow!! I recently found another trip."
I started keeping a little trip list. every time i would think I had found them all, and then, eureka - "oh wow!! I've found another trip."
I met a woman who really knew how to throw down a trip. perhaps she was inspired. nonetheless, her efforts added at least a dozen new candidates to the list of trips. together we amassed a trip list of 27 words.
big undercover photo shoot. hope the lighting is good.
need to review the archive links and change them. also better documentation is needed on what item #'s go with what entries.
go over html code for table construction. it's either the table or the floor. I think I will build a table.
change - feck & puck - an awful idea I was trying out as my email anchor, to something simple like - ain't got mail. at a later date I would like to experiment with an image for the hot spot.
I collect triplets. a triplet is a word spelled three different ways, with each of the 3 spellings being pronounced the same. I call these freaks - trips.
I believe my first trip was vain/vein/vane. the next trip was probably something simple like - by/bye/buy or for/four/fore. after that trips kept popping up. it wasn't an everyday kind of thing, but every now and then I would get that little thrill of going - eureka - "oh wow!! I've found another trip."
the future, (t+1), is a supersaturated solution, much like a crystal waiting to take shape. the supersaturated solution is waiting for a seed to form around. the future is always impatient to be born because more will tomorrow than today.
at any given time, (t), there are groups or coalitions willing certain future outcomes. these emotionally charged mental images are in part used to seed the future. unfortunately, this seeding of the supersaturated future is not a democratic process. the will of some entities is much more powerful that the will of others.
"we take before it is given. in this fashion we remain true."
I suppose I should tell. I was born on 5/20 when the moon was full(and shine she did full of puck and wonder). this makes me a taurus/gemini with my moon in scropio.
take a symbol, σ. let the symbol σ represent a group of words. let the group of words be something that reoccurs with some frequency in the undocumented text, e.g. σ. now everywhere in the mental text you replace the group of words with the symbol. everywhere in the text you replace - σ - with the symbol σ.
no key was allowed. there was no list of one-to-one correspondences between the symbols and the phrases. only a sequence of symbols. this process insured that some of the message should be past down correctly from one to another.
there was a script to be read, an outline to follow, but within these constraints the system was very flexible.
take a symbol, alpha. let the symbol alpha represent a group of words. let the group of words be something that reoccurs with some frequency in the undocumented text, e.g. the object should be consecrated with fire. now everywhere in the mental text you replace the group of words with the symbol. everywhere in the text you replace - the object should be consecrated with water - with the symbol alpha.
no key was allowed. there was no list of one-to-one correspondences between the symbols and the phrases. only a sequence of symbols. this process insured that some of the message should be past down correctly from one to another.
there was a script to be read, an outline to follow, but within these constraints the system was very flexible.
e.g.
take a symbol, σ. let the symbol σ represent a group of words. let the group of words be something that reoccurs with some frequency in the undocumented text, e.g. the object should be consecrated with fire. now everywhere in the mental text you replace the group of words with the symbol. everywhere in the text you replace - the object should be consecrated with water - with the symbol σ.
no key was allowed. there was no list of one-to-one correspondences between the symbols and the phrases. only a sequence of symbols. this process insured that some of the message should be past down correctly from one to another.
there was a script to be read, an outline to follow, but within these constraints the system was very flexible.
the text was never revealed. it was never written down. it was committed to memory and then in this way the received doctrine was past down to others. there is some room for error with this methodology but its simplicity far outweigh any conceivable gain.
but a brake of sorts was imposed on the process of passing down the received doctrine. correspondences were allowed. a correspondence was a one-to-one mapping of a symbol into a group of words.
summa was a bookie. not the vegas thing where 5 will get you 10, but a fairy that hung out around ink and parchment and leather bindings. summa hung out around books. sometimes bookies are call library angels, but summa bristled at this nomenclature. she was always quick to point out the angels were entities that had been very bad, that were now trying to be good. not so with fairies. fairies had always favored phun and play and giggle, wiggle, laughing. why be bad when having phun was so much better?
summa's full moniker was summapoeta. she favored the short sweetest of poems to the dreadgery of wading through the ramblings of fools and their novels. yes beauty to summa was to say much with little. - and unto my beckoning it did come. a perfect point of celestial splendor. and with this light i can now see. the beauty amougst the shadows. - to summa this was a zillion times more beautiful than any novel.
sig is both physical and ephemeral. physically, worm whole sigma is a construction site across from where I work.
the metaphysical aspects of the whole encompass a new type of blog - a self referencing blog. within this sphere interior links are established. the whole becomes activated when the number of links is sufficient to induce metamorphosis.
to all enterprise there is but one key - banish the distractions. it sounds easy but as we have all learned a thousand fold its hard to put into practice. there is a reason for this. and the reason for our inability to banish distractions is that we are not one but many.
a trinity, a trinity, we want a trinity. maybe more.
when i awoke this morning, i went to the window to check on what was going on outside. there she was waiting patiently for me. she never disappoints. i will be hers and she will be mine - forever. t'was venus, my planetary sign. in a language known by few she whispered songs and stories. and just before she parted she told me her greatest secret - each shall know me. each in their own way. word, or sign, or gesture matter not. for in the ways of the spirit and the soul - each shall know me. each in their own way. this brought me peace and contentment. in her fashion she was telling me that whatever i did was pleasing.
i am pleased. the steak came out well. and then the waiter came around and wanted to know if i might enjoy a glass of wine with my meal - something to enhance the experience. as the waiter aptly pointed out - "sir, without wine you are not eating the food but merely tasting it."
the waiter was very persuasive. "wine?" "but of course." "witch?" "i leave that up to your discretion."
he brought me a glass of an '89 kenwood.
"and thus it is revealed that i have been pleasing to the gods and they to me."
i have checked out a lot of blogs. and my favorite bar none is magic bus. this chick can write. and the reason you know this is she writes about a bus ride that she usually takes everyday and you end up wanting more. hum? i wonder what is going to happen to bus chick today?
i took a pique at page 121 of foucault's pendulum. i guess it makes a difference that i am referencing the 1988 hard cover edition. "i want to tell the world what i know, hoping that there may be somebody out there who can fit the rest of the puzzle together - somebody who might read the book and come forward."
the templars get a lot of play in this story. it is an interesting story. something of some significance has happened but...perhaps some dew diligence would pay off here.
there is a definitive key to the templar's story. i first came across it in a rather obscure work by rene descartes - the x y guy. in some length he describes an organization practicing a transgenerational ritual. so there is no misunderstanding, descartes documented an eugenics experiment of the highest order.
fp by umberto eco is worth the time. it is a good read. it helps if you have some exposure to the occult. but it is really about anything, anywhere, anytime. it's just how it is.
i had need of eco's offering yesterday. i needed to check the spelling of a term i was using elsewhere. inside the front cover, on white copy paper, in a hand very familiar was the following : and if you do not find it here you have never known - for it is not hidden but revealed. all who have known will now remember. the third eye of shiva. heard but not seen. listening to the light.
also on the inside flap i had written down these page numbers. i must have been following a thread that i found of some interest. but since i am into d&s sometimes i forget. p. 121/p. 264/p. 282/p. 317/p. 380.
i have tried but i just don't seem to be able to stop myself. it seems to be endogenous (the dog in us). never again is what i said the time before.
hey what can i say. i am dumb and stupid. and what makes it bad is that i am not sure what the difference is. (a trinity, a trinity, we want a trinity). some days i am just dumb. other days i am just stupid. but yesterday i was dumb and stupid. and it is not a good sign when you are dumb and stupid with a lag. i just found out today that i was dumb and stupid yesterday.
with some fanfare the cork was slowly eased out and the spirits within were allowed to work their way on the gathering.
we did not spit but swallowed the 89 kenwood. in truth it was ok. there was an subtle undercurrent of quality but it was not much better than some of the cheaper wines i buy by the case.
as an aside, the trick to turning dross into gold, bad wine into good, is to cant - decant. when you do this you can actually see the trapped little gas bubbles escaping. for some reason cheap wine actually gets better after a day or two in the decanter.
I have been rather fond of wine for over 20 years. about 10 years ago I started buying several california cabernet sauvignons each month. I would carefully wrap each bottle in newspaper and put it away in a dark place where the spirits inside would brood and dwell until I beckoned.
done correctly the drinking of wine is a ritual. homage and respect must be paid to the entities and the process. dew diligence is given to every detail of the process. the trip to the cellar - the selection of the vintage - the slow withdrawal of the cork - the decanting - the proper glass - inhaling the delicate bouquet - the swirling round - the pretty purples - the - unto my lips I did with some anticipation press that which gave me great pleasure - the taste. done correctly the drinking of wine is a special blessing.
until recently my "wine cellar" has served me well. every now and then for a special occasion I would venture forth and bring back a treasure - a gift from the past - a genii in a bottle waiting to be born - a treat - a rare and radiant vintage no longer easily available for public consumption.
with some fanfare the corks were slowly eased out and the spirits within were allowed to work their way on the gathering.
however, about 6 months ago I began to encounter some abnormalities. the color of the wine was changing from royal velvety red to a murky brown. the bouquet once bright and teasing was now a soar dull. the taste changed from welcome to one of decaying neglect.
although I always kept the bottles tilted to prevent the corks from drying out, in each case, during extraction, the cork was beginning to crumble and was difficult to remove. and then boo - my gold to dross. the wine was turning from good to bad.
I am not sure why the corks were deteriorating. I kept the bottles at 180 degrees - tilt not temperature. but obviously that was not enough. apparently after 10 plus years the corks start to go. (rc - rosy cross - rosicrucian) now it is true that the bottles were not cache in the optimal environment. sometimes the conditions were downright hot - bad for a maturing wine. but I had hoped my dedication would override these mere environmental conditions.
although I had drank deep from the well, I still had a dozen disciples at my disposal - some gone and others quickly going. I made an executive decision - wondo. wondo is a cipher for do now. I decided to wondo the remaining wine with dispatch.
last night was one of those wondo times. I made an intriguing salad using my new mini chopper and an if you want to please me all you have to do is cheese me pizza. in honor of the food I selected a 1989 kenwood cabernet sauvignon. a bottle that has been with me for over 12 years.
in truth I wasn't expecting good things. the last three or four bottles were all bad - to muck they had gone with feck. but I had the collection at my disposal and I would open them one by one until to my lips bliss was pressed. I would open the wine bottles one by one until I found one that was appropriate.
i selected a kenwood '89 cab, a stately bottle with no pretense. I mentally debated which of my screws I should employ and opted for the rabbit, an xmas present from the bean. I was a bit apprehensive about using the rabbit though because it does poorly on deteriorating corks.
first off with the skin. the rabbit comes with a foil remover. one day I will know the more appropriate term for this device but for now it is just the thing that takes the foil off. you know - the foil remover. you place the foil remover over the top of the foiled bottle. then you squeeze. when you squeeze, two metal prongs pierce the metal skin and then as you clockwise turn, the prongs continue the discontinuity. one, two, three - turns and the foil is neatly cut and the little disk can be easily pried off the top to expose the waiting cork.
the '89 kenwood was ready. I thought about it. at that moment probably only two or three people on the face of the planet were drinking an '89 kenwood. it is even possible that I was the the only one.
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. this must be the work of a harvard mba. - they will never notice the 19 cents.
