| Frêsh Fish |
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Archive Mea Culpa. The above Archive Link & the Search This Blog Link do not work. This happened after Google, the king of search, bought Blogger?
Frêsh Fish - Much magic for a little fish.
Frêsh Fish is a combination of new and spirited with the added bonus being that everyone knows that fish is best fresh. The icing on the cake was that my mother’s mother, Lena, always told her and she me, that fish was brain food. So with Frêsh Fish we have spirited and new food for thought, ideas, that ain’t got no stink. I was suppose to eat fish today and did not. I hope I can be forgiven.
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Tuesday, October 28, 2003
I am watching Rosemary's Baby. It is suppose to be about witches, and the devil, and the year one, and such, but actually on a deeper level it is something else, it is the seduction of the individual by society. It is about how a mother loses her child to the glitter and the feck. We all start out happy and free, but we all succumb to the seduction of the large. We all stumble and fall. We all become something less. It is a conspiracy to steal our souls, and we like sheep all follow to The Fall. © 2003 big box industries Recently one of the largest solar flareups ever detected was reported. And in California we now have one of the worst brush fires ever. As above so below. © 2003 big box industries Check out Why Wait? Who gnu? I had no idea that police cars and such had a device like this and it appears that anyone can get one. Not sure I really need one of these devices, but that rarely stops me. Actually what I have always wanted was a paint gun attachment for my car. Someone pisses you off in traffic, gently squeeze the trigger, and blotto, black indelible ink everywhere, another one bites the dust. © 2003 big box industries Monday, October 27, 2003
Attention is a very powerful motivator. Entities do the most extraordinary things to get a little attention. 87% of all behavioral patterns can be directly linked to the need for attention. Look at me! Look at me! You don't want to admit it but it is true, all the crazy things you do just to get a little attention. We are all equal and the same, but somehow if we can be just a bit more bent than the other, we can shine, we can be a star, we can be different. It is a deviant culture and there is nothing we can do to stop it. Me, me, all I want is to be a star. Look at me! Look at me! We can't win in Iraq because of the attention. Blow something up and it is a done deal, you are an International Star. You will get more attention that you have every gotten in your whole entire life. It is just so seductive. Do it and win. Do it and get lots and lots and lots and lots of attention. It is just too much. To somebody who would never be anybody, the attention you can get by being bad is just to irresistible. Blow it up and be a star. I am even thinking that all I need to do is blow something up and wow, I will get so much attention. Everyone will want to know everything about me. I will be a Star. Blow it up and get lots and lots and lots of attention. Blow it up and be someone you were never before. Everyone will want to know everything about you. Blow it up and be a Star. Can't get enough, can't get enough about the entity that blew it up. Need lots and lots and lots of stimuli, need fodder for the moo cows, need fodder for the mind. Need something for the news, need something that is exciting, need the truth or lies or whatever. As long as they get attention, we can never win. What the above is meant to suggest is that we need a news blackout in Iraq. © 2003 big box industries Sunday, October 26, 2003
Plum and I hit Dahlonega last Friday. Dahlonega is about 45 mins. north of Atlanta. In the 1830's they found gold in the area. I don't know the whole story but for awhile they actually had a US Mint there. The claim is that gold from Dahlonega is the purest there is, coming in at 99.97% pure gold right from the ground.  In the middle of town there is a gold museum. Plum and I had been to the museum before so we didn't take the tour. We did buy some magick rocks while we were there though. While I was buying some polished pink quartz, the cashier asked me if I had a stream or a lake on my property? Supposedly, if you take rocks from your land and then take a bath with them, it helps you develop a stronger bond with your land. Who gnu?  There is even a small college in Dahlonega. Not sure of its name? Must be for geology majors or something. Final exam - Go out and find some AU.  Around The AU Museum, the town square, there are all sorts of quaint and curious little shops and restaurants. I was especially take by this apothecary sign.  If you take the time and look around you are apt to find just about anything in Dahlonega.  After doing Dahlonega, we headed about 25 miles away to Amicalola State Park, where there is a wonderful waterfall.  It's hard to believe, but I guess it was such a beautiful day that even the Martini Dude decided to give The Falls a go.  The name Amicalola is Indian. Amicalola means Dancing Water.  © 2003 big box industries  Got this snap last Friday when Plum and I hit Dahlonega. Doesn't have much to do with gold or dancing water or God's country, but perhaps it will give you the feel that is was a perfect day. It was good, and magick rocks, and harvest pumpkins, and happy sunshine, and the water falls, and a biker planting pansies (wish I would have gotten that snap), and this and that and the other. © 2003 big box industries I hadn't really realized it in awhile but the Sun really boogies fast across the sky. I watched the Sun this morning as it made its rounds and I was impressed. Now I wasn't looking directly at the Sun to reach this boogie conclusion, I was watching its shadow. Awhile back, I mentioned the crystals I have hanging in different parts of my apartment. They were doing a kick ass job this morning. Something about the position of the Sun in the Fall that really makes this work well. This morning I was getting big phat spectrums all over the place.   The diffference in the two snaps is about 5 minutes tops. Looks like the Sun had people to do and places to be. If I was real cool I could have done a triangle/distance thing. Knowing that the distance from the Earth to the Sun is approximately 93,000,000 miles, I could have then used the measurement of the distance between the spectrum's positions in the first and second snaps and converted it into miles traveled by the sun. Then if I had accurately tracked the time, I could have divided distance by time and gotten a read on the Sun's speed across the sky. Clue - not that cool. Sorry the drawings in the snaps came out blurred. I compressed for web, and lettering and such doesn't compress well. Ok, ok, I wasn't paying attention to detail and now I have muck on my shoe. Think I will just go to the club and order the fish. © 2003 big box industries Thursday, October 23, 2003
Lots of good stuff coming up on Fish. And if the above were not enough, I just had another magical experience a few minutes ago. Well magically for me. The Mack Momma has been back for awhile now. I doubt the whole story will ever be documented but I do have a snap and a little story coming later. Anyway, I was outside doing her windows and putting some black shine on the tires. Clue - Mack Momma is a car, actually her name is Evelyn. It was a super perfect Fall day today, and I could have stayed outside forever just tinkering away doing this and that, but I still had n+1 things to do so I gathered up a spent can of tire shine and some done in sheets of newspaper that I used on the car windows and headed inside. Once inside I did the kitchen and ditched the shine and newspaper in my tall green kitchen garbage container. I then came into the study and started to work on something that I had on the computer. While at the keyboard I heard a faint rustling sound. I thought that perhaps it was the garbage rising up after I had pushed the shine can and newspaper into the trash. Yes, one of the n+1 things I have to do is take the garbage out. I got up and went into the kitchen and stared at the garbage can. I didn't hear anything and I didn't see anything. Everything was exactly how I had left it. And that was too bad because while I was in there I decided it was time to do the dishes. I drained the sink and messed a bit with the clutter and then went into the living room to see if there were any dishes in there. That was when the magick happened. Hopping about, here and there, in my living room was the cutest little bird. Since it was such a nice day, I had left the unscreened balcony door open. He flew over to one of my bigger plants I have in the living room. Then to the top of a large angel I have on top of my circular white table. Butted his head a couple of times on one of the windows and then back to the angel. This guy was super cute. I needed it bad, real bad, I needed a few snaps of this little guy.  My camera was in the bedroom, so off I went. Unfortunately, it had no smart card, film, in it. Finally smart card inserted, camera in hand, into the living room, and boo! My little friend, the cutest little bird I have seen in awhile, was gone. That's the problem with magick. It only lasts a little while and then when it is gone you are sad. © 2003 big box industries I have been fucking around with my snap files lately. I am actually started to work on cross indexing my digital photo collection. When most people start taking snaps, if they organize at all, they organize their pictures by date. That's how I am doing it now. I have a folder for each month and then subfolders within each month for the different batches I took. But once you get beyond a year or two things become a bit blurred. "Where is that little sucker?" So cross indexing is recommended. Although you would still keep your date folders, when you cross index, you create additional folders based on categories. You could have a folder for snaps of the moon, and one for flowers, and one for sunsets, and one for certain people, and one for family, and one for holidays, and within the holiday folder you could actually break each holiday out, and on and on and on. While mucking about in my snaps folders, I came up with some other photo projects I wanted to do. One of the big pains in the butt about digital photography is that size and perhaps the format of the photo should be different depending upon whether you want to print the snap or display it on the web. I fucked up today and only caught my mistake with a little luck. I really haven't devoted too much time to printing out my snaps. My color printer only does 150 dpi max. I have enough to do without figuring out how to print things but I was curious as to how some snaps would look in the flesh. So I decided to get a group ready and take them to a camera place. I use Photoshop Elements to do my snap work. For reasons not even understood by the gods, I save all my originals in PSD format. So to get my little collection ready for printing I was humming away and converting the snaps I was going to have printed into JPEG format. When you do this, for each snap you are asked what compression ratio you want to use. For some reason, since I wanted my snaps to look there best, I was selecting max for each compression. It only occurred to me later that this was wrong, wrong, wrong. When you compress photo files you lose information. For photos that you are going to print you want the minimum amount of compression and the maximum amount of information. Instead of max, which in my mind I was incorrectly associating with best, I should have selected min. So I now have n+1 things to do again, with n = too much. It sure would be nice if you could just take the snaps and all the little details would take care of themselves. It sure would be nice if one size fit all. © 2003 big box industries Wednesday, October 22, 2003
It was a clear, clean, Fall day, late afternoon. I was someplace that I am almost never at. I was deep downtown attending to an itch. A little earlier I had been downtown at the main public library looking for a collection of poems - Jamais Perdu. How ironic, Jamais Perdu is French for Never Lost, but try as I may I had been unsuccessful in my attempt to find this strange collection of poems. Yes, this one of kind manuscript had been donated to the library in 1982. Yes, this collection of reputedly disturbing poems was in the library's catalogue. No, there is no record of Jamais ever being checked out, no one at the library ever remembers coming across it, and at least for the moment it was, it was ever lost. It was a late Friday afternoon, and everyone on the streets was rushing about with that dazed end of the week intensity, rush, rush, rushing to nowhere. You had to be quick or incur the wrath of the rabble. As I scurried along with the other rats I passed an old crone selling flowers. As I flew by this hunched and wrinkled biddy, I heard her sing, in a voice that seemed like it was just for me, "Crissies for a lovely me Lord?"  © 2003 big box industries Friday, October 17, 2003
Beckon and you will receive. Beckon with all your heart and then a little more. Beckon with your soul. You have conjured and he doest come. Skin like yours but different. How might you suspect? He will be wearing, the future is so bright He has to wear shades, fire of lust dances in his eyes. and then his touch, gloves, white gloves he will wear. To many times to want you now. But he has a itch, a need, a familiar, different, but in many ways like you. It is not his father, but another, his mother. He needs to feel her near and wish her well. To find her he needs your energy circling round. And with what is given freely, once again he will be born agnu. And when he is as such there is an awakening in the minds of many. Stronger hopes and golden dreams, life again is more enchanting. All this and heaven too! I love it!! © 2003 big box industries Wednesday, October 15, 2003
Once upon a time I thought I could do it all, but then I started forgetting things. It soon became apparent that I needed a way to remember, I needed a way to remember what I had done before. Once upon a time I thought I could do it all, but then I discovered that I was so Memento. I could give you the whole Memento spill but I won't. It is already a done deal, it has already been blogged. Well I did leave some stuff out but whatever. If you want the rest you actually have to do a little work. You have to Google and do fish and then do Memento. OK I will take some of it back. I loved Memento. I thought it was very frêsh. I had to watch it once, twice, a trinity and trinity, we want a trinity - three times. I could probably do it again. But the thing that really blew me far away was that it was based on a short story. It was based on a short story that was only about 7 pages long. At first I said no way. There is no way in the world that a 7 page short story could capture everything that was happening in Memento. I was wrong. If I was good, and sorry if you don't know by now, I would provide the link to the story and you could see for yourself, but that is not my way. I always and will continue to be one who wants you to be more. If you want it enough you will find it. And when you do as such you will know - The Magick Is In The Doing. © 2003 big box industries Monday, October 13, 2003
I haven't been blogging quite as much lately because I am working on a secret project, a double secret probation kind of thing. Actually I am working on a website and the first thing you need when you are going in net is a url. You think it would be easy to come up with something you like that no one else has hit on yet, but unless you want to use something like Gnu Onomatopoeia, it has already been taken. First I tried - Snaps Rules. Not sure who but someone already had that one. Next I went with - I'm Only Happy When I'm Snapping. One of my ex's had that one. I don't think she ever got my last email. Finally, somewhat in desperation, I tried - Snaps Is An Asshole. Already taken. Thanks Mom. © 2003 big box industries Saturday, October 11, 2003
I like to gamble. I am an all or nothing kind of guy. Sometimes I lose but sometimes I win, and when I win I win big. This is how I do everything, chess, tennis, poker, pool, 24x7 in your face. Right now I am doing an all in on breakfast - 3 eggs sunny side up, lots of American cheese on top, with sprays of finely ground pepper, burnt toast with cream cheese, and hot coffee just right. All this and heaven too! I love it. © 2003 big box industries Friday, October 10, 2003
through rowan woods did weave and whirl and wind. I went through some of my poetry this afternoon. My little ones are all out there in my My Documents folder. I just have to pull them all together. The above is the beginning of one of the first poems I wrote. And no, I am not sure I know what an "eddy" wind is, but it sure does wind - wind≠wind. © 2003 big box industries Thursday, October 09, 2003
I believe in fairies and angels and such. This belief is not based on any scientific evidence. I believe in fairies and angels and such because I want to. I believe in fairies and angels and such because I can. Last week I was lucky enough to encounter Dorothy, a garden angel that hangs out at my folk's house. She is a very gentle and peaceful soul, and can often be found on a nice day outside reading.  Like most garden fairies, Dorothy is not wont to chit chat and idle gossip. Instead she uses the symbols of her kingdom to express her fancies. With a flit of her wings she brought something to please me, yellow with her best blues.  I was pleased and Dorothy was pleased, and better yet I had my camera in the car. I made my way from the front of the house around to the right where my car was parked in the drive. I opened the back door of my car where my camera bag was. The opening of the car door must have startled something because out of my right eye I noticed the flitting of a large winged creature. My heart beat a little faster as I with camera in hand noticed it land, about 30 feet away, up in a wooded tree. It was the large hawk that has made my parent's home his.  Did Dorothy know that this would please me? © 2003 big box industries Wednesday, October 08, 2003
Unless you have needed some help lately you probably are unaware that all 1st line support has gone to India. Fax, scanner, printer, computer, it is all handled in India. HP, IBM, Dell, it doesn't make any difference, they all have 1 st line support centers in India. Clue, they kind of speak English, but they are not like you and me. I am very self reliant and almost never ask for help, but I need everyone's help now. Fuck this shit. I need everyone's help now. Scream, bitch, let them know you hate it. If you are lucky you will understand what they say, rarely, but they are not going to know about Halloween, or the Super Bowl, or almost anything that makes you, you. I need eveyone's help now to get the message out. This is the message - All front line support has gone to India, on everything. They are very polite but they are not like you and me. At a minimum, the next time you buy anything, ask where the support comes from. It makes a big difference. This was off the cuff, quick, but I will have much more later. Like telephone numbers and such. Call and see for yourself, it's fucked. All 1st line support is in India and they have no idea who you are. What can you do? If you are unfortunate enough to actually need help, make sure you scream until you get someone that speaks like you. That not being the case let everyone you know, know, that customer support is now more fucked than ever. Unless it happens to you, you don't know. I am trying to tell you now that it is fucked. © 2003 big box industries And a cry of alarm went out throughout the kingdom, " The sock drawer is low." Since I have about, well actually this is just an estimate, 75 pairs of socks and do wash on a semi regular basis, no clean socks is almost an impossible condition. If you ever hear that I have no clean socks it is a harbinger that the end is near. The most important decision I make each day is which socks to wear. After calculated sock deliberation the rest of each day seems to take care of itself. Well it does help if I remember to put socks on first and then pants. Here is a sock trick I learn from The Donald. Anytime you have something really important to do, especially if it involves interaction with other entities, wear mismatched socks. It instantly convenes an I Don't Give A Shit Attitude, and puts others on the defensive. I really don't have anything that important to do today but I think as a lark I will put on some Power Socks. I'm just in the mood to fuck with people. © 2003 big box industries Sunday, October 05, 2003
I'm on The Quest, you know The Bandersnatch. As was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, historical continuity and doctrinal consistency are maintained by repetition. The beginning here is an example of the technique called muddying the waters to appear deep. And yes there is some shit on my shoe. I still hope they let me in the club. I'll just pretend it's mud and order The Fish. Let's take a little trip. There are an infinity of things, well there is a lot of stuff. Since the beginning of time a little trick has been used to impose some order on this welter. The trick is pretty simple. The trick is to pretend. The trick is to pretend that things that are different are the same. A≠A. By pretending that things that are different are the same we can start to form little groups of things and play games looking for patterns. If one is so inclined it can really be quite phun. "Eureka! I found another one." 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! I've found another trip." Actually left to my own devices, I wouldn't have gotten very far on my trip of trips. I was lucky, or perhaps fated, to meet two others who shared the journey with me. One was a simple soul but focused. The other was a wordsmith extraordinaire. As previously mentioned, my real contribution to the endeavor has been to put forth the energy, focus, and persistence to perpetuate the concept through time. This morning I spent a little time reworking my list of trips. I had an original list of 27 entries, but others were scattered here and there amongst my papers. As of October 5, 2003, I have 47 entries on my list of trips. Some of the better trips are - rapt/wrapped/rapped - idol/idle/idyll - horde/hoard/whored. There is even a quad - seize/cease/seas/sees. Who knew/new/gnu? And just when I thought I have all the trips that one could conjure with the English language, I came across another one - rose/rows/roes. 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, roes 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. And then of course there is the thing you do with your boat when you are hooking for a little Frêsh Fish - row/roe/rho. © 2003 big box industries Saturday, October 04, 2003
Wow! September blew through here like a prairie fire. It is already October. I did all the phun things associated with a new month. I celebrate happy October Day, paid some first of the month bills, and changed my calendars.  Then I did something that I only do on the rarest of occasions. "You backed up your hard drive onto CD?" "No. I just did that last week." "You threw out all your holey underwear?" "No. I am too sentimental for that. You know it is like My Stuff." "You cross indexed all your snaps by multiple subcategories?" "Yeah right." "Well just what the fuck did you do that was so na na?"  Obiter dictum - (Obiter dictum is like a p.s. or a we digress.) While crafting the above I encountered the word holey. Of course holey conjured up holy, and this in turn was associated with wholly. Eureka! Another trip. If you have been a friend of this blog for awhile, you have encountered my triplets or trips. "A trinity, a trinity, we want a holy trinity." A trip is a triplet of words that is pronounced the same but spelt differently. I suspect that I am the only entity - was, is, will - in the universe that has such a collection. Well no that can't be right for I know of at least two others that have helped me along the way. And in truth without their assistance my list of trips would be rather meager. My really contribution to the endeavor has been to put forth the energy, focus, and persistence to perpetuate the concept through time. And then I went to publish my blog and fuck no snaps. I thought I had blown an image tag. No that wasn't it. "I wish I may. I wish I might. I wish my dream comes true tonight." I wish after taking a snap I could just touch my finger to the computer screen and the snap would appear anywhere I wanted. Better, you just blink an eye, no camera, and the net is waiting for your touch. But no. I don't know why I call my digital photos snaps because getting them up on the net is anything but. So give me about 5, to call up screens, and enter passwords, and do this and that.) © 2003 big box industries Wednesday, October 01, 2003
On these fresh Fall mornings I like to get out and do a little tennis. I use the term do instead of play because all I really do is practice my serve. I hit about ten balls over the net one way and then go to the other side and hit them back. I do this until I break a sweat and then I like a conquering warrior, strut home and take a shower.  I am getting pretty good at slapping the shit out of those little yellow balls. Just a few days ago I added a new little twist to my serve. Racket in right hand and ball in left. With my left hand, I start with a medium height ball toss just a little in front of me. Then with the racket in my right hand about waist high I pivot a bit to the left, the left thing is the new move, and then smoothly come back to the right. As my body rhythmically swings to the right, I bring the racket over and up high and behind me with the racket face open. And then at just the right moment, a moment I seem to know instinctively, I bring the open face of the racket down on that little yellow fuzzy ball and slap the shit out of it.  I'd say about 80% of the time I am getting the ball over the net with a little speed. But every now and then everything, toss, pivot, swing, is just right and then I almost rip the fuzz off the little sucker. I don't even have to look, I just know it is a winner. It just feels so sweet. © 2003 big box industries
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