Monday, May 29, 2017


Travel in the tealeaves. And by travel we're not just talking about braving the roads to a find a part in neighboring county, we're talking interstate travel, passport distances, the sort of stuff that requires inoculations and typhoid shots. Be gone a while, but unlike Oats I intend to return.

From here to the big road means going through the horsey-culture of Lexington, a hot bed of city drivers impatient for their next donut, then on though WVA toward that part of the world where the personalized number plate is a fashion statement and driving slow in the fast lane is a badge of honor.

Sunday, May 28, 2017

Bank Loans

Ah well! Probably no more than a brief interlude in the dialectic. A misunderstanding of some sort. Just no way a billionaire property developer would base the foreign policy of the USA around a debt to a state owned Russian bank.

Much more likely the party in question is a common or garden multi-millionaire and is just far too ashamed to admit that his boasting about his billionaire-hood is so much dribble. On the brighter side, last evening we didn't get baseball size hail were I live.

Friday, May 26, 2017


It's very easy. The modern Republican is no longer a conservative, he's gone radical, or rogue, and he believes that competition is the answer to complexity of Governing 360 odd million people. This new breed sees success as being measured by wealth, the less wealthy are less deserving because they're not good enough, they are weak, it's their fault, they shouldn't be permitted to gum up the works with sad excuses for laziness and should be allowed to disappear from the public square. It's backwards to an old theory in an attempt to deal with a world that's changing too quickly. It was the same during the early Industrial Revolution of Steam. Essentially the ideology is that survival of the fittest is the only solution to problems, a brutally uncomplicated discipline, but all the same, ideas, whatever their genesis, are acts of faith rather than anything that represents a rational appraisal of how societies might work tomorrow for the betterment of our world as we enter a daunting future.

Believers of all shapes who have power are often reduced to using the whip on others as they surround their thinking with deceits, lies and Orwellian language to disguise the nature of what they actually believe. What is a Christian, I wonder. The reason this new breed likes Trump is that his base of support have permitted A President to do away with the niceties which they define as a political correctness of intellectuals who have no real place in the real world of Alpha Males where violence, power and winning at all costs beats being a loser, or a nerd, or a precondition or gentle. In short Trump has punctured the veneer of civilized behavior and we are reaping the rewards. What happens next? Pre 1950's history suggests a good old fashioned war of some kind between Great Powers unites the myriad clans into a tribe so they might briefly bond, feel good about themselves, find purpose, something that Mutually Assured Destruction has kind of put an end to, so we just have to invent enemies, the more the merrier. Drugs, Islam, Jews, women, foreigners, poor countries and the list from the rogues is a rather pathetic commentary on one idea of progress.

Wednesday, May 24, 2017

Figs and fidget spinners

I have to take a break from on line discussions of all sorts, shapes and kinds. They get nowhere and tend to drag a person into a deep depression about the nature of the species he belongs to. Nor is it doing my spelling or grammar much good so I need to find another outlet for political activities, something useful like grasping the 2018 Budget.

The last straw was an unpleasant character  who called me "a lefty pinko FIGS" because I didn't know what a "fidget spinner" was during a conversation about whether banning "fidget spinners" in schools was obviously the first step toward socialism. Nor am I certain what a FIGS is, but proud to be one.

Tuesday, May 23, 2017


Sometimes Geography is useful. There are the landforms, a cwm, a terminal moraine, rocks and stuff. And then there are maps, which country borders another, general regions such as the Middle East, there are hemispheres, tropical areas, sub-tropical areas, places that have winters, places that are or were ice-bound. All of this on a round orange shaped planet that spins.

Another area of concern is boys and girls holding hands when in certain foreign places. It's a well known fact that this sort of behavior is generally considered disgusting and entirely unnecessary, it's a sort of don't ask don't thing, like eating dog meat on a Thursday. But for holding hands on a red carpet at a foreign airport the consequences can be very dire indeed. 

Monday, May 22, 2017


For those who may be interested a Libtard is a derogatory term derived from a conjoining of the word Liberal and the word Retard. And while some might consider Libtard offensive and might wonder why a gentle flower like myself would be trolling the Alt-Right websites, my answer is that the exercise of doing so is close to entering the altered state produced by LSD, and yet the experience is addictive, kind of like when the school master in charge of Latin Detention loses control of the Detention Room.

To explain it, imagine yourself totally free to say absolutely anything that might enter your head, be liberated from the conventions that make society possible and have at it. Walk naked through the Bread Counter at a Grocery Store screaming obscenities at the unsliced loaves and the stranger thing is every one else is doing it. Then all of a sudden some poor fool attempts to do the right thing, give an adequate perspective on the nature of unsliced bread, say something like THSH and it's like a honey pot for the WTF's.

Sunday, May 21, 2017

Social Democracy

May 21st 1871 was a Sunday. And on this day in 1871 the French Army marched into Paris where they basically spent the next five days rounding up and killing Parisians who had held elections and who had declare themselves a Social Democracy.

In those days Social Democracy was the idea that society should be arranged around the wishes of the many. All sorts of problems with that not least of which is the idea that Social Democracy is an evil plot to undermine "Democracy."

Saturday, May 20, 2017

Local Gossp

For those interested the Compost Pile is 95 degrees Fahrenheit. Ambient temperature in the shade is around 87 degrees Fahrenheit and the device that measures humidity must be broken because it only reads 60%.

Meanwhile Strawberries and Asparagus have done their stuff for this year, first harvest of Chard, Bush Beans are up, Potato are well into bloom, Spinach is bolting and it's only May 20th.  Last real sight of a genuine frost was sometime the end of March, I think.

Friday, May 19, 2017


While turning the Compost Pile this morning it occurred to me that I had fundamentalist tendencies. And as often happens when the mind deteriorates I began to realize that the word fundamentalist has a meaning beyond the militant evangelists who stand in opposition to liberal and secular values. I went on to remind myself that 'values' is one of those words that cause an allergic reaction in my being. By the time I was ready to plunge the Compost Thermometer into the heart of the Compost Pile I realized that I had a fundamental problem with the idea of Compost Pile Thermometer.

The thing about a Compost Pile Thermometer is that a gardener has to spend much of his day wondering what the temperature of his Compost Pile might be, and more worrying, whether he placed the thermometer into a hot or cold spot within his Compost File. In some ways a Compost Pile Thermometer is yet another example of an insidious technology that worms its way into a persons life and proceeds to dominate the thought processes. All very well suggesting that a person should moderate the passions, put for example a Compost Pile Thermometer into a more reasonable perspective, but we fundamentalists just don't seem to be able to that.

Wednesday, May 17, 2017

Social Skills

Naturally the Girl Cat and I have had words between us, we've discussed all things great and small, we've had our disagreements respecting life style choices, eating habits, the electorate and it's quite a long list. Then there's been the occasional critical comment from me addressed to the cut grass which does insist upon growing in a rampant and entirely unnecessary manner.

As well there are subterranean members of the community here that can produce ultimate questions about the meaning of life and the purpose of being because they seem to have the answers. But not certain that I've spoken more than twenty words to a member of my own species in the past month, this means when The Artist returns tomorrow I might be a little garrulous around Compost Pile temperatures and Hoppy Bug.

Tuesday, May 16, 2017

Direct TV

Just like to drop a big hint to Direct TV, a company who spends at least a dollar a day sending mail to the end of the lane imploring me to subscribe. There are like ten thousand channels and for the first three weeks it's virtually free, apparently, and there's no commitment, until a subscriber decides to unsubscribe then all sorts of untoward and frankly despicable behaviors start to take shape.

Recent events have provided an opportunity for Direct TV to again provide their service to this lonely location. All they have to do is what Corporate America does best, bribe the political class to reach for their better angels and proceed to address the current Constitutional Crisis by impeaching the two year old masquerading as their president.

Monday, May 15, 2017


Always peaceful when the Girl Cat is asleep. A mind can relax, concentrate on the decline of what's humorously called western civilization, the end of democracy and go on a little about where to place blame which usually rests squarely upon the shoulders of an avaricious elite and the absurd popular admiration for the hubris of the illiterate billionaire class, facebook, twitter and the Daily Mail.

Then all of a sudden the Girl Cat is not to be found in her usual sleeping places. Clearly and very obviously she's been taken by a Coyote, snatched up by a Red Tail or fed to the young of some unspeakable creature who has been bribed by the mourning relatives of several dozen classes of rodent. Hours are spent hunting her down, tromping around, risking heat exposure, Tic bite and damage to the vocal folds, only to find her under my bed. It's incredibly thoughtless of her!!!

Sunday, May 14, 2017


There's no mystery. It would be more interesting if there was. Pretending otherwise is folly. Obedience has three parts. Doing what the spirit tells you. Conforming your will to the spirit. And conforming your intellect to the spirit. The problem isn't obedience, it's the spirit.

Franciscans would define spirit in accordance with their interpretation of the Christian message. Their obedience is a discipline devoted to an understanding of and devotion to a higher purpose. Here on earth it's the first part of obedience that becomes subject to a temptation to redefine higher purpose by the number of shares a tweet gets.

Thursday, May 11, 2017


A grave error to actually find a pirated You Tube live stream of a cable television news channel. It's kind of like living on the edge of the copyright statutes, cries out for a Parrot. But with a live stream news channel, a person gets to see the results of the work done by the busy men and women of that part of industry devoted to marketing. It just goes on and on, no end to the number of very well coiffured and unnaturally youthful looking girls and boys getting all excited about their incredibly depressing, and obviously soul destroying world view.

Mind you I did wake up this morning with a passionate desire to sample a dog food guaranteed to promote alertness in older dogs. I'm thinking seriously about investing $32 a week in a text messaging therapist. I'm fairly convinced that I'm sorely in need of several dozen medications and all over body suntan lotions. And there was something about a Billionaire visiting or returning from New Jersey in a mood to dismiss government employees who may or may not know something or other I didn't quite grasp because I was confused by what an American Standard Stand-In Bath might be.

Wednesday, May 10, 2017


The motto of the FBI is "Fidelity, Bravery, Integrity." Not real subtle, a long way from the nuances of "shame on him who thinks evil of it" which might just as well be the motto of the Wombat Cuddlers at the other end of the Great Avenue. My own favorite "get off my lawn" could well work on those occasions when a neighboring ten year year old urban dweller walks the household pet for pocket money. But in the end "fortune favors the bold" seems to be the rather self serving survival strategy of our leaders.

The point being, and I can't comment or go into the specifics, it's very hush-hush, so I'm just going to say that Nostradamus was correct about Nixon and more than likely the current Vice President of the United States is the "moon faced one with dietary peculiarly unnatural restrictions" who according to the fourth part of 53rd quatrain will "usurp the thrown of the Golden Salamander" and everyone knows what that means. And if you don't believe me, it's all in the timeline.

Tuesday, May 9, 2017


Come to the conclusion that anyone running for public office, a supreme court judge, or someone already in public office such as a director of something like the FBI who uses folksy terms is rat or a fink and should be removed to safe place where they can play the banjo, eat chicken wings and get the heck out of our "Gee Willikers" whatever that might mean. Sad day when raising the eyebrows and saying something like "Gosh" makes you a born again Christian or an Abraham Lincoln.

On the much more positive side Frank Zappa and the Mother's of Invention have been reincarnated. A rejuvenating confluence in my mind, not to be taken too seriously from a person who doesn't leave home and gets his news from the internet. The first sighting was a brief glimpse of a discussion between Sally Yates and someone called Ted Cruise, it was like an Armadillo questioning an Angel. The second and more enduring sighting was on the Facebook, a band called Crystal Hart playing a burger joint in Virginia. Both sightings reminded me of "Hungry Freaks Daddy" and yeah, I'm a little preachy.

Monday, May 8, 2017

La Vie

Snurk factor, exacerbated a little by regular discovery of the corpses of rodents dotted around the domicile, some of which might have been there some time, and all of them introduced, usually during the early hours by you know who and just left for someone else to find. My own morning routine is no longer flatfooted, rather it's more of tiptoeing around, very good for the feet and posture, the Girl Cat has informed me in what I'm beginning to think could be a French Accent.

Naturally there will be purists who will look upon En Marche as a "quelque chose léger" but a little léger here and there is a great deal better than full blown retreat into some book that's been written before, a remake, a plagiarism, CliffsNotes to pass the exam and there'll be no passing grade this side of hell for any one us. What happened to the story that tomorrow should be exciting and new. Well I'll tell, that story has been taken from most of us and given to the zealots. Wasn't it always like this for you old people? I hear the call. The answer is Not Always.

Saturday, May 6, 2017


Granted a gardener does occasionally complain about the weather, but May 6th 2017 is a Day that will most certainly Live in Weather Infamy! It's cold, it's wet and chance of Frost in the early hours of Sunday morning. It's enough to make anyone understand and fully appreciate the yearning for alternative facts!

Ma faute, je savais que cela se produirait, mais je me suis arrêté pour considérer le passé, je me demande si le 15 mai est la norme pour éteindre la tomate. Oui de la cause que j'ai fait! C'était une longue conversation entre les Asparagus et moi-même, pendant plusieurs semaines, pendant que Chard murmurait un peu sur les grimpeaux du monde végétal.. Elu Marche.

Friday, May 5, 2017

A Lose-lose

The difference between rural and urban can be understood in the phrase "Town Air Makes You Free."  A New World Marxist analysis would use the phrase "The Liquidity of Modernity." Which is a sound-bite that attempts to summarize several beautifully written sentences in the Communist Manifesto. In short, rural life is slow paced, its rules are steadfast and stubborn, it's beliefs unchallenged which means that more in the world is certain. Urban life is fast paced, anything becomes possible, the rules that tie communities are there to be challenged which means that less in the world is certain, and I guess some might call it freedom.

When the two clash it's like an elderly Sloth meeting a juvenile Chimpanzee, the chances of mutual cooperation are remote. More recently in the USA Urban places tend to vote Democratic, rural places tend to vote Republican. In the middle are tracts of land that remain confused, they cling to the rural and earn their living in the urban. Call them three tribes, understand their allegiances as having a material genesis and you're well on your way to saying crack-pot things like "A rising tide lifts all boats."  The more accurate understanding is that if we people are boats most of us have holes in our hulls. The question is, Do We Care? The answer, Probably Not! But much more important than wise answers, is the fight, it bonds us to each other and always has done. Worth remembering, fights that obey rules are less destructive.

Thursday, May 4, 2017

A win-win

Today, sometime this afternoon US Eastern Summer Time, the Republican Party (always worth remembering Abraham Lincoln was a Republican, so was Nixon who was all for removing health care from the clutches of Insurance Companies and funding a Health Care System through a single-payer) is going to make a decision that will result in a landslide victory for the Democratic party in the mid-term elections of 2018. Analogies include The Charge of the Light Brigade in the October of 1854, when frustrated men on horses charged cannon so that damn stupid poems could be crafted around the critical importance of doing very silly things. Or maybe Pyrrhus's victory, a first in many Pyrrhic victories where Pyrrhic is defined as a disastrous success.

Alternatively we can all become obsessed with the astonishing news that Prince Phillip, the 95 year old male consort of the current queen of England, is retiring. Or we can try to get our minds around the shocking news that Mika Brzezinski and Joe Scarborough have been bonking and have decided to formalize the arrangement through some kind of future religious ceremony. And if by chance you're looking for a little mystery, there's a suggestion that following the battle of Carrhae in 53 BC, which took place in eastern part of what's now Turkey, the remnant of the defeated Roman army was captured, they somehow found their way to China where their descendants now have their glorious being as Yak farmers on the fringes of the Gobi Desert, a life style that would suit me fine.

Wednesday, May 3, 2017

Ends Times

Yellow Chats in the Cedar and they are also partial to Strawberry, along with Thrashers, Field Sparrow Mockingbirds and Mouse. For those who keep track of these things, the Scary Compost Pile is cooling, and needs to be turned. The Compost Pile formerly known as Isis, is home to some kind of varmint, fortunately quite small, long tailed and reclusive. Otherwise it's one of those days when the weather is only soured by the certain knowledge that our political class are dangerous lunatics hell bent on recreating a fourth circle of hell here on earth. Mind you Dante's poem is one of those interpretative efforts best left to the scrabble players in the common rooms of men and women who hide like monks from paupers, their reality seen through chiffon, while humble gardeners tend their roses.

But it's like this. You got Limbo, pretty wishy-washy feeble place to be. Then you got Lust, a place you can still reckon on time teaching a lesson, broken hearts and forgiveness perhaps. Then you got Gluttony, where you can't help yourself, it's like over-feeding on the sacrifices of others. The fourth circle of hell is greed, a battle between the miserly and the profligate, here indulgence becomes a selfish appetite, it conjoins into an opposition that rages and feeds upon itself, becomes hungry for the conflict, sees proof in victory rather than good sense and tells lies when it loses. In some ways the fourth circle of hell is that moment when the button is pushed and after that you fall through the trapdoor into the nether regions of hell where you are definitely poked with sticks and made to spend eternity wishing you'd behaved otherwise and all you can do is gnash your teeth and wail, unless you're a billionaire who can pay someone under the counter to gnash and wail for you.  The good news, there's a preacher, Kenton Beshore, in California who predicts a Rapture in 2021, so we commoners have got that to look forward to.

Tuesday, May 2, 2017

White Coats Please

My own personal opinions include the idea that Hillary Clinton should retire from politics, leave us all alone to blunder into the future without her focus group guidance, maybe she could take up gardening, or write stories for the New Yorker, or find some kind of hobby that does not require her to make speeches to public gatherings blaming the FBI, Wiki Leaks and the hourly paid for why it is she isn't President.

The other opinion I'd like to express has to do with the current occupant of the White House. He is in my view undergoing some sort of metamorphosis, and rather than emerging from the chrysalis phase as in any way presidential he'll end his reign as the First US President to be removed from office by men in white coats. Vice President Pence will then become President of these here United States and when that happens I'm going to blame William Jefferson Clinton, and if you want to know why "It's NOT the economy, stupid."

Monday, May 1, 2017

May Day

Both the Girl Cat and I have declared an amnesty upon outdoor activities on this May Day. Far too windy for a working man and working girl to manage anything like banners that  castigate the bourgeoisie for their profligate ways and constant moaning, so instead we'll be indoor marching, or at least I will, the Girl Cat has found a sunny spot on the carpet. The banner naturally will boldly proclaim "Sui Generis is Ironic." Inspired, I agree, what it means I'm not sure, but prior to the amnesty this proletarian had managed to venture forth in the hunt for Beauregard Sweet Potato, and while returning from the adventure with 24 of the little beauties on the front seat, it occurred to me that I've never really understood what "Irony" or "Ironic" means.

Granted that some of us are possessed by allergic reactions to many of the words in the English Language, I can for example think of "Charades" as a moisture laden limp wristed activity practiced by the type of person who'd make reference to "Irony" at least four times a day, reserve Sunday for "Sui Generis." This allergy, which is probably categorized as a disability, does mean that some words are simply too painful to pursue an understanding of. And then there's the Latin in Sui Generis that really does bottle the phlegm as it reminds me of far too many pompous ass prigs for whom conformity becomes a badge of honor as it struts through the social fabric maintaining order and rounding up the remainder. The point about May Day is to challenge the imagination, think in new ways, understand each other through brotherhood, and despite rumor to the contrary none of us is unique. So Yes "Sui Generis is Ironic."