Thursday, August 30, 2007

fixx om 1 dot finnegans friend

Nodal Nim did play tunes at Fixx Coffee Bar this prior evening. A Greenpeacer named Dan-O did host, played guitar, invited goodtimes. In addition to my frabjous self, I saw some guitarists, a djembist, &, wonderfullest of all, a sitar player. All did doings immeasurably. I did:

.. 25% mor monstr
.. cal it Home
.. 5 songs of fish

This place did I enjoy: persons & friends listened intently as I played; plum oolong tea appealed to my buds.


On th trainride home, wondermagickal togetherhappenings did manifest. It began as I sat on my mandolincase whilst waiting for th train & reading from Finnegans Wake, James Joyce's masterwork in dreamlanguage non-linear holistic complexity. I enjoy partaking of said tome by opening to random pages & reading a few sentences, a paragraph or two, maybe, then opening to a new random page et cetera. I have not yet begun a cover-to-cover reading, altho I intend to when time ripens.

So as I sat with book, th wind blew pages, turning them randomly for me. Rather than grip th pages to prevent their turning, I enjoyed having th wind make my anti-decisions. So there I sat at th terminal, reading a book whose pages flapped in th wind, grinning & not seeming to mind.

A fellow (I estimate 32 years of age, thin, redheaded, only somewhat inebriated), when I glanced his way, handed me a Thing. I identified said Thing as a worn playing card, a two of hearts, actually, with an image of Elvis Presley on th front & back. Th fellow's explanation: "Bookmark." I thanked fellow with a grin, stuck th "bookmark" between some pages near th back of th book (sticking up so I could see it in peripheral vision), & continued doing exactly what I had been doing, amused that a confounded fellow found it appropriate to intercede in my peculiar reading practice.

I do wonder what he thought, seeing me do this. (John Cage might understand.)

So we rode th train together, & in th car, since no wind found its way to my book, I flipped th pages myself again, continuing to let th bookmark sit in its place. Th fellow sat not far away. We both got off at th Irving Park stop (Brown Line "L"), & at th bottom of th stairs:

HE: [Evidently amused.] Your bag is unzipped.

I: [Continuing to walk, not surprised or disturbed by th news.] Thanks!

HE: Wait, let me get it.

[I stop & th fellow begins to zip up a pocket on my bookbag.]

HE: I'm putting these matches in your bag. They're from my restaurant - you should come in sometime. [Drops in matches & finishes th zip.] I used to do this in grade school on purpose to make friends.

I: [With a chuckle.] Thanks again!

He passed me & turned right out of th station - I turned left. Only as he passed did I smell a touch of alcohol on him. (Yes, most people returning from a night out at 11:00 would have had a few beers - just plum oolong for me.) He found my private antics amusing, it would seem, & he found himself intrigued enough to invite me to his restaurant. I wonder what overall impression he got of me, how he explained me to himself. I felt elated by th whole strange thing (altho I didn't understand why), & I laughed & grinned all th way home & on & off until sleep overtook me.

Wednesday, August 29, 2007

veganism hello


I really can't take th Hare Krishnas seriously, I decided. I won't accept any religion that takes its books literally. I heart healthy skepticism.

In th meantime, I've just finished moving into Tiffany & Jordan's apartment. I'd lived with George all year, but had spent much of my time there, so now I've made th move. I feel good about it.

I decided to embrace veganism, th boycotting of all products that come from animals. Since sixth grade, I've practiced vegetarianism, th boycotting of all meat products. I have done this not because I think humans shouldn't eat animals (historically, humans have always demonstrated omnivorous behavior, hunting & gathering, farming plants & domesticating animals), but because th meat industry raises animals in miserable conditions wherein they suffer as lifeless objects for our abuse. Meat in modern times implies animal abuse, which I decidedly do not condone.

Veganism goes one step further, refusing not only meat, but milk, eggs, cheese, honey, butter, etc. Obviously, it requires more discipline, since dairy products appear in many more foodthings than meat products. I used to say, "Cows don't die to make milk," which skirts th issue that, altho they don't die, they live unnatural lives wallowing in their own filth, hooked up to machines in factory farms, getting pumped full of hormones. Dairy in modern time also implies animals abuse - I knew this for years but chose to ignore it. I didn't want to commit to such a disciplined eating constraint.

But since starting at Greenpeace, I've met a handful of vegans who have shown me that veganism can work. It doesn't take much to become cognizant of animal products & avoid them in all forms. I feel great about my decision to stop lying to myself & stand up against an effed up form of animal torture.

Tuesday, August 21, 2007

Krsna Christ

So I recently checked out a nearby temple of th International Society for Krishna Consciousness, a.k.a. th Hare Krishnas. I had met a kind fellow on th street who offered me a book, Sri Isopanisad, which I took home & read with interest. Sunday I went to an open house promising:

* Musical Performance & Mantra Meditation
* Transcendental Philosophy
* FREE delicious vegetarian Feast

(I do enjoy feasts.)

I have found many things about th Hare Krishnas that I like a whole bunch. They advocate living a natural, simple life devoted to peace, love, & appreciation for th universe. They sing songs & chant, welcome people with open arms, & work to expand their consciousness. They consider all things Godly.

I have found a few things about them that irk me, also. Altho I can think of few more open-minded organized religions (they accept Jesus & th Buddha as holy men, even tho they don't connect directly with their movement, & they acknowledge that their path is one of many), they believe in Krishna as th Absolute Personality of Godhead, rather than one of many possible metaphors for an otherwise nearly unknowable God. They consider their path Supreme or Best & their holy books (particularly th Bhagavad Gita) Absolutely Perfect.

I don't accept Absolutes, but Relatives. I acknowledge Einstein & th Quantum Physicists & what they have taught us about th limitations inherent in every model.

For example, Hare Krishnas say that all forms of God emanate from th supreme, Krishna. Krishna has th attributes of a blue-skinned four-armed male anthropomorphic deity, who, while omnipotent & able to change forms, reduces absolutely to a blue-skinned four-armed male anthropomorphic deity. As soon as we accept this as th perfect image of God, we say that God cannot truly be black-skinned, twelve-armed, female & feline. But of course, ideas of God have emerged of so many different types that it makes no sense to me to limit our concept to one Absolute image.

Th idea of Krishna, like that of Isis, Yahweh, Tlaloc & Prometheus, can help us make sense of th universe & become more spiritual human beings. I find Krishna a beautiful metaphor, but not one that I choose to take literally.

That said, I intend to continue my exploration of th Krishna Consciousness Movement, thru reading, chanting, meditating, conversing with th very friendly monks, & trying to experience th Absolute Personality of Godhead as best I can while remaining agnostic.

Monday, August 13, 2007

one fine poem by mine Self & Scotthew

sandy crushed ants in scepters
stinging raspberry red fingers
bags of random piles and globs
bankers of men fishers of Steve
rotating mama's llama's
point zero one elephantitis
paint me a picture quiet one
with your soft sand wax
drippling organic crashmaidens
until cohering to swizzlesticks
fraternizing with Chandra
you and your fan mail (will you/won't you)
sing me a return address
I'll scribble down simple hydrocarbons
Be it the one or the many
skies win on down the roads
roadus barrels roll
in moon clocking fish fashion
orgies on bended knee
stale bites between binded bands
bungalow dungfaeries swell eight
times polygon orcs
wild times will do thee good
peckish whims on button gardens
acidic gardener cracks paste
& counsels bumping ornate slates
virgin victims upon solid centers
wane from thy temptation


There happened feastings.

Last night, in recognition of my awaying (which awayed just this morn), we (my Self, Ameh, Bleh), created from chaotic brain embers & hats just such a meal as did ignite fine wonders. I speak of a four-bibbit amazing. We three did makings - we added Nick Borden for eatings.

Appetizer of crunchy yum: Toast with Sundried Toe-mah-toes, Green Olives, Red Food Dye.

Drinkly of chunky yum: Watermelonjuice with Mintleafings (from Gardenpicked), Amaretto, Fine Bibbits of Horny Fruit (Green Globules which do Encasings of Seedies) for Sittings on Top.

Main Course of complex yum: Okra & Zucchini, Onion & Limejuice, Garam Marsala & Unboxwine, Allspice, Waters.

Dessert of commodius yum: Grapefruit Quarters, Yumsauce (Cotton Candy Quite Melted, Jam&Waters).

a hitching

A wedding I did attend - th hitching of Eric Fauss to Stephanie Thompson & vice versa! Fun abounded in bounds - from togethertastic lovely fronds of vows & speakings, to a ringing & a counterringing, to dances & cocktails & toasts, to smiling bibbits of most excellent happy. I felt honored & awed to participate (as Best I could). Hooray for all!

I did carpooling with th lovely Scott & Gillian. We encountered fun, adventure & secrets with our sexy GPS robot named Nuvi. Good friendlies at feastings included Jen A, Nathan S, Rachael F. I enjoyed seeing & meeting family & friends from all walks. Togethermagick abounded in ways. Hooray for all!

A goodness & sweetness & triumph & yay.

Wednesday, August 8, 2007

Troytown Ithakatown Dublintown

Today I did arrive in Troytown for th doings of wed & happies; also, I did complete one full reading of Ulysses by James Joyce (here you can find an interesting essay on Ulysses & cybernetics slash hypertext).

Saturday, August 4, 2007

Holy hey diddle diddle

Holy hey diddle diddle (didl didl in cut spelng for those curious explorer types), I've been working at Greenpeace for an effing month! So weird, it seems to me, that I do what I do.

Often in life, I've felt like some space alien who crashlanded on th wrongest planet possible. I have never bought others' reality, never excelled at assimilation, never found myself easily grokked by th people around me. Chicago has seemed like just another miserable city on th planet of th squares slash ueber hip slash conformists slash nonconformistconformists. As always, I can find no culture, no subculture, of Andrews.

But since I stumbled into Greenpeace, I very recently realized that I have things that I can fairly & proudly call friends. We're th office of th misfits, & I effing love it.

I have stumbled upon friends in th past of course. It happens thru avenues of theatre, music, clay, & chaos - thru art - transcendent, chaotic, divine, explosively rich & challenging art. Thinking of this, I reach a realization that we Greenpeacers do art.

It goes like this:

Every day, I go to some given streetcorner in Chicago, approach hundreds of absolute strangers - each in their own reality tunnels trying to get thru th hectic day without losing their minds - & start conversations:

How are you today, sir? How do you feel about Global Warming? - Ma'am, you wanna help save a Polar Bear today, right? - This guy looks like an environmentalist! Have you heard about Greenpeace, man? - Come talk to me about saving our Mother Earth!

I find it utterly fascinating how absolutely th same everyone seems & how absolutely unique at th same time. I never have th same conversation twice. Never! (But th goal remains th same, more or less: convince th mark that Greenpeace is worth donating to & get em to fill out my form & give me eir credit card number.)

In conclusion, we do art:

.th art of conversation
.th art of manipulation slash persuasion
.th art of selling (a reality-tunnel, an organization, a future)
.th art of rhetoric
.th art of canvassing (as this activity gets officially called)

No one does this job th same. No one paints th same painting (slash reality-tunnel slash conversation etc). We do art - transcendent, chaotic, divine, explosively rich & challenging art.

((((( So it feels on a "good day." )))))

Thursday, August 2, 2007


Since my last post, I missed birthdays - mine & at least two others, probably millions - & also Discordian holydays - Confuflux & th 23rd of July (I think all 23s ought to be holydays). I also failed to mention another Gallery Cabaret open mic that I played last week. I don't think it worth mentioning except to say that I wound up 23rd on th list thru no conscious action of mine.


I've quite by accident discovered another holynumber of some importance: 331.

A few weeks ago, Greenpeace Chicago got 331 new member sign-ups, breaking th national records of all Greenpeace offices. It stands as our personal best.

A few days ago, another Greenpeacer & I signed each other up as members. Here's how I determined what I would donate: about a quarter a day is 12 dollars a month. Twelve dollars is slightly more than minimum, which is 10 dollars. I decided I like th number 13 better than th number 12. So I wrote 13. Then I decided to make it a palindrome, so I added .31, making th donation 13.31. See th 331? I didn't intend it, but it seemed fitting.

This didn't seem weird until this morning, when I bought a feta pasta salad. Th price? $3.31.

I'll keep you posted on further occurances of this number, & I invite you to do th same.

By th way, how does 331 fit with th Law of Fives? Quite simple:

3 + 3 - 1 = 5.