Deprevation Trough

Deprivation Trough

 

What happens when mother comes to the table with nothing on?

“Take A Picture.”   Said Grandmother.   “Facebook Action.”

Is the perfect lead-in to indicate my frustration when monster-like hands make dancing on a miniature keyboard, ( something called:  ‘Virtual Input Device.’) seem like a bad idea, now life-like and copied by the next generation at the age of 3.

 

Started out with the notion:  A Table with Nothing-on-It.

But in the hands of a novice on a smart-phone, small is the idea that he needs to go home and sit at his PC workstation with a standard-sized keyboard and write this essay/blog.

“We don’t do that anymore.”  But doesn’t elaborate. 

 Silence of the Lamb.

 

I am attempting to find the proper way of expression.  Was hoping to avoid using the smart-phone as a camera, showing an empty table to provide an understanding about such things as scarcity and deprivation, now in contrast with notions like  small and miniaturization.

“there is nothing on the table.”  Of course there is,  you just can’t see it.  Keyboard and screen is missing, or now so small that it is difficult to use when wearing gloves in minus 30 degree weather, exposed and determined to avoid frost-bite and the loss of limbs and fingers.  Difficult to see and use, when wearing tri-focal glasses.

Is a changing world and new ways of recognizing all of this is mandatory.  Discard words like Scarcity and Deprivation.  Toss them into the drink or as he suggested, into the deprivation trough.  Is not a term we use often in today’s environment.  Miniaturization  and small is good.  Can’t type because your hands and fingers are missing or just too large to make such functioning practical, choose option B and just speak and the phone will present a verbal command and type it for you.  Talk and Visualize the outcome.  Words appearing on a screen, without a need for typing.

 

And he says, “The typewriter is so obsolete.” And now keyboards are obsolete.   2017 and he just struggles with the idea.  ‘Mother at the table with nothing on.’  Is not something he can visualize.  But these things are automatic now.  He said it, because he was told this is the thing to do.  “Be modern.  Just say it.”  And before you know it, its posted on Face-Book, with Grandmother notifying the family.

Rapid change and it is imperative that we smarten up at the end of each day.

“Wow.”  He says.   “Look at this.”

And the family responds.  “This is embarrassing.  How did this happen.”

Later we get a proper response.  “We left grandmother alone with the smart-phone and she was talking, while the personal assistant was on and relaying the information and instructions to the micro-processor.”   End Result.  And empty table.  And mother’s picture on the internet in Face-Book, depicting a compromising situation.”

 

It is not clear if we are saying, “It is embarrassing to admit that there is nothing on the table and we are part of the working-poor?”  Or if this is about the picture Grandmother posted of her daughter, with nothing on.

 

For the most part this episode goes far to demonstrate the new visual landscape, and voice-based technology that is miniaturized to the degree that we take it for granted and act as if it isn’t there.  But of course now we know.  There are unintended consequences to the technology-driven environment and platforms, now being used, to display our everyday life.

 

OTAY

OTAY

 

Let’s begin with this and see what happens.

Information  comes over the loudspeaker.

“There is a crazy person loose in the castle.”

Now your smartphone issues you an active signal.

“It’s your turn to stand watch.  Report to your watch station commander immediately.”

With that you type a reply.  “Otay.”   And pray that things will turnout in your favor.  

 

Otay. Lol. Lmao.  It is all new-speak for me. 

 

I have decided that no matter what I write today, it will be as if I have found a low spot on the ground I walk, and marsh-like conditions will surround me, where I go.  Weary is the traveler that walks the low lands, and for his trouble on return is informed:  “You have Castle Watch.  Report in 30 minutes.” 

 

Focusing in on details now.  Got into a shouting match with some chick I met in 1962 and now blame it on daylight savings time and messing with the clocks.  Turned my back on reality and found myself in the nightmare replay of yesterday.  And so it is, I am off-track now and don’t know how far to go, with all of this.  Am at the point where fabrication might be the path I take, and fabric of choice will be something not-made-in-china, and lead-free.  

 

Hoping to avoid a bad day, and decided on something once viewed on Saturday Morning when the parents were still fast-a-sleep.  Sleeping in on Saturday Morning, or shagging:  will we ever know and does it matter.  I had my own control of the small screen and was watching The Rascals, a children’s show from way back when black and white was still an issue.  “Otay and the kid stutters and was made comic by a resourceful scriptwriter.”  How far should I regress to bring today’s reader up to speed.  “What is he talking about?”  Leads to the low ground where quicksand is found.  Some caution is advised. 

 

For perspective, he adds:  “I use to worship the ground she walked on.”  Said with conviction and an air of formality that may have been a royal state of confidence, back in the day, when Ms. Manners had a lot to say, and men still read the Racing Forms and newspaper, while in robes and slippers and sipping on a cuppa.  Tea and if we go back far enough, we can make sense of the Castle Watch comment at the top of this blog.  Way back and very low on the interest scale, is a path he takes when his mind is following The Cult of Yesterday, and he is following traffic pulled by horse and mules and bull-stock.  Mud track and sparse terrain, when cities were just a few 100 years away, and most of us were out there, on the fringes, protecting our families and our interests.  Like I said.  “Just Making The Best of a Primitive State.” 

 

Castle Watch and the internet will explain it to you, but not in the same way this old dude is going on and on, in a daily blog.  And this is where I am, using the state of the art technology and methods to lead me out of the wilderness, and out of the swamps.  Much like what happened to the ancestors when they came out of Africa and populated the planet.  Marshland.  Foggy Bottom.  Bogs.  Lowlands and certain trouble when you are dressed up and hoping for better.  

 

Now fast forward into something called new speak.  “What is he talking about?” leads us in so many directions at once,  we might feel lost.  Found that going to the internet and asking: “ WTF.”  Didn’t help much at all.  Still with the problem and no solution sitting here with me, as I drink tea and attempt another daily blog. 

 

Not expecting help from Google Maps.   Not sure where I am going with the Castle Watch lead-in at the start of this morning’s blog.  Do not have the facilities to cope with the merge of past and present, now turned sideways by the innovation of
Daylight Savings Time Switch.  Disoriented at best.  Yesterday I found myself on a 1960’s  Selma Alabama bus, and with some blind person asking, “Are you black?”  If that wasn’t enough of a problem, I actually fell into VietNam without a clue, and came back with the idea:  “this is bad.”  So expecting limited help, I turned on YouTube and watched Flaming Lips perform their mesmerizing single, “The Castle.”  Suddenly I found myself in a state of mind,  with little hope of recovery, in terms of making sense today.

 

To make things worse I thought I might explain where I am.  Otay was not the best example of everyday speech and clarification.  Little boy stutters and has a speech impairment, and is treated in comic fashion.  A cruel show if we think about it.  But we don’t.  Now we are into a conversation that begins with:  Otay. Lol. Lmao.  Strange but not funny.  Is where I find myself in the present moment.  Found something that leads me down a path to low ground.  Not the ground I worship, nor the ground she walk.  Nope  More like, a graveyard for literacy and is marked clearly:  Cemetery New-Speak.

Lol  and it morphs to a fuller understanding when somebody mentions:  ‘ARF’.  And adds to the puzzle this piece:  ‘….I sometimes use ‘arf’, which means I’m laughing ( and not barking).  There is more.  Mr. Somebody says as if for my enlightenment:  “More subdued than writing ‘ahahahahah’. “  And now it’s my turn.  “What are these people talking about?”    

Turn forward the clock 1 hour.  This will fix all the problems you might have, real or imagined.

Brings me to a true understanding of what I will be dealing with today.  Castle Watch.  Not so much.  Crazy person running around and it is my turn to deal with that.  Of course, that is a better possibility in real time, as I live in an Urban Center on the West Coast of North and America, at the intersection of Alaska Way and Siberia Avenue.  Crazy is, and Mary is alive, but not well.  Has me declaring the obvious.  “Too Busy for dealing with you.”   “Have to go to work.”  LOL.  “Let’s talk tomorrow.”

 

In A Certain Light

In A Certain Light

 

I have nothing to hide.  By the fallacy of my own words I open up and become a frame of reference for those who wish to expose me.  Shared correspondence and space and by innocence I appear as a created presence of one with too much time at the keyboard of life, and he expounds.

“Not my first rodeo.”  He said.

Puzzled but not deterred, a response finds its proper place in the phylum of  all-things-internet-connected.  “Why are you here?”

Seems like a harmless way to start a conversation, and instead of hiding behind 5^th Amendment Rights provided by the U.S.A constitution, I will put myself in front of you by bringing into play the book which sits on my table.  Is Ernest Hemmingway the writer and is showcased by words in a book he wrote: 

 Hemingway on War.   On page 58 it appears.

“….why are you here….”

And the answer by Nick, one of Hemingway’s created entities  is one I will repeat now.

“I am demonstrating the American uniform.”  Nick said.

 

Like I said, “I have nothing to hide.  This is not my first rodeo and I am an American and read Hemingway.”

Happy to get the existential question, “Why are you here?”; disposed of.  Quick answer. 

 “What he said.”  And will leave you to your own means.  “Sort it out.”

Am here for a different reason.  Stone Drum’s blog and want to build on a foundation of words that appear daily.  Today’s topic is about molecular diversity and movement.

What happens in Spring.  It is simple.   A new season.  More trauma.  

 Let me explain.

Seems we recently messed around with time,  moving our clocks forward an hour.  Has to do with light and again do not want this to be the sole focus of today’s blog.  I bring it up because I become disoriented by the very act of Spring Ahead.  Messing with time and one’s biological clock has implications that are far reaching for me.  Takes two weeks or more for me to recover from this simple act of moving our clock’s forward or backward, even just one hour.  So that occurred and now I am reacting by coming to rest and sitting.  Have a computer and a screen in front of me.  Is an environmental sample of what happens in an advanced society.  Computer. Electricity.  Daylight.

 

Can say with certainty, “….  From a west-facing room looking out on water and mountains, I become one with the light reflected back to me.”    Hence, the title:  In a Certain Light.  He sits and writes about composition and diversity and the molecular structure that influences him in the present moments.   He doesn’t want to talk about why he is here, but will if forced to.

 

Instead he hopes to show a different rendering of himself, and talk about something personal and important. Perhaps only important to him at this moment, because he suffers from bio-distortion due to messing with the light and the clocks and his simple mind, which is determined and is affected by the things you do.   He wants to talk about it.  Biogenic weathering of stone.  How stone drum reacts much like everything else, in the face and facts of molecular diversity in Spring.  How light is the subject when seen from a distance on a remote-viewing-screen.

 

So does it really matter if it is winter or Spring?  Does it matter that I see myself differently, depending on my own reflected thinking, which is determined or influenced by how much light reaches me?  Was thinking about that, when I fell asleep.  Crawled under myself and declined to come out.  It was there I came across a different version of a Jimi Hendrix tune:  Third Stone From The Sun.  It was during that period that darkness found me and when I woke I had other things to think about, other than daylight savings time and messing with the light and others asking, “Why are you here?”   Suddenly I lost focus and direction.  Didn’t care about Hemingway and the book I was reading just a few hours prior.  Suddenly it was more important to think about stone and energy and molecules in motion.  Important to figure out what was going on around me, and get out of bed.  And move on.  Head games were to be postponed.  Words game, too.  Think about the bigger picture.  Feel bad that Jimmi Hendrix is gone now, and very much misunderstood.

 

Is important to retrace my steps.  Go back if I must to 1967.  Find the record even if it’s a 78 rpm plastic, all scratched and difficult to listen to.  Jimi Hendrix.  1967.  The Album:  Are You Experienced.   The Song:  Third Stone From The Sun.  The Artist:  Jimi Hendrix.  Think about it.  You were young then.  Had so much to learn.  And what did you do.  How did you benefit from being in the same city, Seattle and how did all of that influence you?   Did it?

 

Learn from my mistakes.  Pay attention to certain things.  See things in a certain light.  Note that Jimi Hendrix seemed to like the word “Stone.”  Songs that reflect this by Jimi Hendrix were:   Third Stone From The Sun.   Stone Free.   And.   Stepping Stone.  See where we went off the beaten track and started doing our own thing.  See that it really did matter,  those things happening to us and around us in the year 1967.  Realize now that this was before man went into orbit and set foot on the moon.  Realize that this was riff between time and space and life with and without light.  “Third Stone From The Sun ”  is the earth.  At the time,  this just didn’t occur to me.  But like I said in the beginning.  “I have nothing to hide.  I will talk about the mistakes I’ve made.”

 

And now I come to stand and face the music.  Reinterpret the dance I never fully learned.  Dance of stars in fading light.  Sun and its movement and how it affects me.  Jimi Hendrix is gone.  But his songs and words and what they talk about in reference to him,  still lives on.  You can hear it everywhere you go, in Seattle.  The Jimi Hendrix universal sound.  Long version or short, he wasn’t with us for very long, but now I realize how much all of this has influenced me.  He liked the word, “Stone”.  And so do I.  Is something that allows me to define myself and place in the bigger picture.  1967 standing around smoking something and waiting for Jimi to play.  It happened.

Turning the clock forward or back, won’t change that.  It didn’t matter that the song I was waiting to hear was garbled sound and later entered into a lawsuit and taken away.   Many years passed before I heard it again.  But in 1967 and a live concert and he put it out there.  And for all these years its been with me.  In my head.  Replayed in myth and dream, it was real to me.  Before we went to the moon.  Before we knew our place in the universe in personal man-made experience.

Third Stone From The Sun’ is the earth.  And I was there.  Something not to be forgotten,  I think it important enough to mention in a blog, circulate and perhaps become locked-in-time and space and suffer not from the change of time and the change of light.