11.07.2025 - Weekly Digest
11.03.2025
Three of four passengers on this bus are riding for fun so now I am too.
Guy up front in a full gas mask and bionic running gear waves at every other bus we pass. Don't think they can see him. Ritual, maybe a custom. Should I be doing that too? He's an enthusiast. He never gets off. Onboarder not a deboarder.
What is that woman doing in a Starfleet uniform? Red uniform, three pips, to be exact - Commander rank. Can I still apply to Starfleet? I think I have what it takes. I don't like to fly when there's an atmosphere but zipping around out there in the void sounds comforting. Transporters make me nervous or I'd invite myself along.
Now there's a witch on here. Not calling names, she has the hat and everything. Retractable broomstick, e-cauldron. Could be her everyday outfit.
Someone plays Patsy Cline on their phone. That's when you know it's Halloween.
11.04.2025
Lighthouse keepers. I've been thinking about them for no good reason.
Lighthouses require a lot of maintenance. I've been led to believe this anyway. Why they can't be automated is unknown to me. Maybe they are.
The movie The Lighthouse is one of my favorite movies.
One winter I lived in Goldendale Washington in a house with my friend Johnny. Later when I saw the movie The Lighthouse it reminded me of that time for both of us. We were snowed in for a lot of that winter. We played a lot of cards. We drank often and got on each other's nerves.
I read a whole stack of graphic novels (Moore, Gaiman) in that house. We borrowed a cup of internet from the neighbor to download video games. I walked to the Red Box at our local grocer to rent movies. We watched Deadwood and Game of Thrones on DVD.
Haven't seen any lighthouses in California but one imagines they're out there. Rocky shores aplenty. Probably I pay attention to the wrong things sometimes.
11.05.2025
The morning is dark and wet and bamboo whips like halyards. This morning the bamboo whips like halyards against the windows.
You know how bamboo can be when halyards and windows are involved.
Whips the glass like it's angry. Whips them like they owe it money. Like it wants to get in here and whip the rest of the place.
When the bamboo comes I will not assume its intentions are peaceful.
Take it easy, I say to the bamboo. We were cool yesterday, weren't we? I watered each of you for a thirty count. Thick web-bombs from the spiders stretched between your pots. I went in anyway, fearless. Even when one exploded on my head I kept the hose on, the hose what leaks down the side and leaves the one pantleg and both shoes soaked regardless of stance.
When the bamboo comes I will be ready.
11.06.2025
Out here it's tepid and does not feel like fall. Drivers run stops signs like they're commas. Citrus fruits I don't have names for grow sloshy and fat and I clean them off the stone and wonder should I bring them in to make a marinade.
Voted as a Californian for the very first time, maybe not the last if I decide to stay. The thing I voted for passed so you're welcome. Stuck my opinion in an envelope and woke up and now there's freedom again.
I don't want to be cynical. I'm against anyone anywhere not having freedom. Well not anyone. Tyrants, organized mass murderers, these guys shouldn't have their freedoms. They should be free but only to run from people they oppress, mobs hellbent on slapping them around with justice sticks.
To have a quiet place to think is no small luxury. I do not take this quiet place for granted and I know a long ass winter is about to settle over the places I think of as home. I want so badly to find a way to love this country again but it has to be in a new way. Nostalgia is a warning sign and I'm trying to be a less stupid man.