I was Thinking, or Not

I would like to admit to something, I currently have my "cap in hand", and for you islanders that don't know what that means, please listen to this by the Proclaimers .  Now, now, before all you Scotts get yourselves in an uproar, oh shit too late, they is born that way, I ain't saying these guys are anything, but they make a point that is sort of universal.  We people of this great nation, not the national of any one, but this nation of one, have got our heads up our asses, and even though this pop duo is more or less the same part and parcel, they happen to have, maybe by accident, put up the point on which I would hereto like to elaborate. If you have listened lately to any news feeds, I mean any at all, you will find that there are two themes, maybe better said as undercurrents.  One is that there is a new world order, and this I can assure you there will be, but let me get into that in a minute.  The second is that the youth is against it, and that has not ch...

Quite a long time ago, for you see I am older than I report, I happened upon a place in the wood, not unlike many that you have most likely seen. Having traveled quite a ways for a day, I concluded that this little clearing would be a perfect place to rest and have my dinner before the sun bowed its head. It is so much harder to set a fire when there is no light to see by you know. So I dismounted my dapple grey mare, and removed her bit, so she would have nothing in the way of her dinner as well. I was gathering the supplies for a nice little fire, when I noticed right in the middle of the clearing was a fire all ready to ignite. Well I thought, that was odd, as I had not seen this when I first looked, but how thoughtful of the last traveler to this place. It was then I decided that I too would return the favor, and ensure that I set the pit with fresh wood before I left the next morn. I finished gathering wood, so I would have some for the fire this night, and plenty for t...

The Facing Place  (The Story of a Store) What is a store, but a place to store things.  The basis that it has a retail aspect is but an effect of the fact that it stores things.  The goods that a store has is what is provided to it from the people who make things, or harvest things, or otherwise bring into reality, stuff that needs storage.  These are things that are over and above those things that each individual could have, or would have, in such quantities as that they had a surplus of things, such as that they would need additional storage for that surplus.  Being that they do not have the storage for the surplus, and short of building storage for the surplus, they have no place to place this surplus of things, so they need storage. They could purchase storage, but then they would need an ever increasing amount of storage for those things that do not perish, and would need to distribute or dispose of those things that do perish, creating the need for a...

I have read a lot of this, though not all of it, and as that would leave me to be less completely informed as I would like to be, as to all of this there is already a methodology that does not require growing the national debt, or increasing government oversight, and it punishes the large corporations at the same time.  It is simple, stop buying their crap, if we just stop buying their stuff, they will cease to have profit.  Buy as local as possible, work as local as possible, live as local as possible, and provide community support as you can with what you can.  Know your local sources, support local businesses, ones that are actually local, not local branches of large corporations.  When we vote with our dollars, we vote across the lines, there is no politics in economics.  Deglobalize the American way, stop demanding the government do for you, and do for your self and your neighbors.  Demand that the government stay out of regulation of morality, and ...

 The Collector By: James E. Doud  (c) 9/2011 James E. Doud Using Open Copyright Published By: James E. Doud  The Collector -1- My father was a hoarder, my mother a product of the former great depression, so it is not surprising that I tend towards collecting.  People collect things, nic-nacks of all sorts, treasure to one, brick-a-bract to the other.   Everyone collects something to some extent.  When I walked into the house, I could see that it had collected about three years of dust. Whatever else was in the house was only to be known from under that dust, and whatever else was waiting in the shadows.  After three years it was bound to be the haven of all manor of rodent and insect, all co-habating in this dusty old house.  That it had stood these last three years vacant is evidence of it structural integrity.  Judging from the vines...

Just a Song before I go, a lesson to be learned, traveling twice the speed of sound it is easy to get burned.  However, it is better to burn out than to fade away.  And finally, wooden ships, and our house is a very, very fine house.  That is all, thank you.

About 21 years ago I sat down to write a little short about something, and it just was not there, but now it makes a little more sense.  I will dust off this little bit and publish it here, and see if it doesn't make a few people think.  Of course this will be the edited version, and I hope I don't taint it to much, but I will do my best not to let the now enter the past.  Look for it to hit the blog near the end of the week, around Friday.

“What the hell have I told you, if I don’t show up here by 10 you are to call me and remind me to call my fucking wife, you stupid bitch.” he bellowed at the receptionist immediately upon entering the front door. From the sales office, the words are garbled and lost in the insulation, I was standing in the room, there was no mistaking what he said. Time has a way of slowing down sometimes, it might just be me, but it seems like time slows in certain situations, even though I do not particularly notice it while it is happening.  It is the memory that is slow in replay I am certain, the immediate replay, the subsequent ones all seem to follow time space rules. The office manager always carried an umbrella, in case of rain, I suppose.  When it raised I did not hesitate, I did not think, I reacted. I now have to slow things down to remember them, as I said the subsequent memories are in real time, and it is a blur of furry in real time. The appointment cards seem to find their ...