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.

 

What We Need To Know

What We Need To Know

 

What we need to know begins with an energetic  show of hands when asked, “What are  you interested in today?”   Great way to begin a meeting and assembly of like minds,  but then he rethinks the whole thing.  This is the Internet, and how are we supposed to know what an individual needs, without asking directly and taking into consideration, a detailed answer.  Impossible to treat any of this as legitimate, and is unfair to depend on an educated guess.   

 

We have so much variation in the people we meet online.  What we need to know is like taking a bite-sized portion of morning life at the breakfast table, and make it last all day, and fit every situation.  “Bonkers.”  I say.  What we need to know, is the motivation for continuing on as he will do, in his daily blog.  Need to Know.  And.  “Don’t ask and don’t tell.”  Handles it perfectly.  Boils down to this:  hard-boiled egg and fatally cracked.  Soft boiled and leaking all over my plate.  In the end I decide I am not hungry and leave the table before any of this becomes an issue.

Begins at the breakfast table, but suddenly picks up again when it is said.  “Hang a Right, slow down and gradually blend in.”  Physical imperative and that is what we need to know.  Physical and an accidental interruption could be deadly.  Not here to get hurt, and that rings a bell for me.  Something I need to know in life.  “Do No Harm.”

Tragedy and Happiness side by side in the south-bound lane, and suddenly it dawns on me,  not here to describe the death of the good life, and so is something I plan to avoid.  Tragic can wait.  Happy should happen now.  And am sure this is rhetoric versus reality, and truth is, we never know.  What we need to know often comes with hindsight and after the event has occurred. “If I had to do this over.”  He said.   

 

But have no idea if he would have turned left, instead of right, or just keep going in the direction of traffic. “ Keep going.  Don’t slow down.”  Maybe if I could see it and replay it in real time,  I would have kept my mouth shut and not do this thing they now call, Back Seat Driving.   At the time it seems the thing to do.  Turn on the map and GPS and just relay the instructions to the driver.  Now I am thinking. 

 “Best to not ask or offer one’s opinion.  What we need to know, is the true value of silence and when is the proper time to break that silence. “

 

Want to get tickets and have a front row seat.  Want quality of life and plenty of entertainment as life goes on.  Need to have an image and a vision of what will work for me, but then I think.  There is no reason to know what happens next.  Need to know sounds like it might benefit me, but then again poverty comes with having too much information as we speed ahead, oblivious to what is waiting just around the curve.  Rags to riches is similar to tragedy and happiness side by side.  Avoiding the tragedy part comes with knowing the proper lane to be in.  But then again, it all happens so quickly.  Accident or foregone conclusion.  Right turn onto a one-way street and before you know it.  Head On Collision.  Possibility of injury or death.  And he asks himself.  What do we need to know, when something such as this occurs.  Honest Mistake.  It happens.

 

Edible marijuana and what we need to know to protect the kids, or a total stranger, when in my car.  Infused and potent.  This need to know.  Don’t think it matters if we are in Colorado or Washington State, where recreational marijuana is sold.  To be so bold I will say.  “Proceed with caution.”   No longer a conversation for morning and tea and breakfast table.  

 

 Has trickled down to The Court Room and even see it in the news banners appearing as daily news.  Comes in a variety of forms, this tragedy and happiness, side by side.  From candy and baked goods to trail mix, and even in one’s coffee as the vehicle picks up speed.  Social and behavioral and a chance for misuse.  Legal and recreational and was out to have a little fun.  Was in the car and it was offered.  Pick-me-up snack break and wasn’t thinking  neuro-cognitive, nor local dimensions of mental health  and the possibility of further substance-related problems.  Now I am thinking,  it would not have mattered.  Right Turn.  Left Turn.  Straight ahead.  In the car and going too fast.  That’s what the report said.  Looking back it occurs to me.  Lot of concerns I never considered before.  What I need to know, and now I say.  “Are you kidding me.”  Jail time and loss of driver’s license for 5 years.  Young person growing old in the light of consequences suddenly turned real.  Tragedy and Happiness side by side, and is no longer important to ask.

 “What did you have for breakfast.   What did you eat? “

 

Leftovers shaped like candy and there is a concern now.  Read the label or ask somebody.  “Does this contain marijuana?”  What we need to know, when unintentional exposure gets us in trouble.    Happened and reading the label didn’t help when I didn’t know what I was looking for or dealing with.  Recreational and was meant to be fun.  Time out and somehow it didn’t occur to me.  In the car, and half-baked.  Product implications were overwhelming.  Put it in my mouth and did so without knowing what is in the product.  Giving directions based on looking at my smart phone.  Delusional.  And didn’t know why.  “Shit Happens.”  And is something I wanted to repeat.  “Be careful what you eat.”    But my lawyer said, 

“Keep quiet.  I will present your case.”

 

So now it is over.  Best to not talk about it.  Lessons learned by experience in life lived.  Leap over one thing, and land somewhere else.  Best to be careful and not get too high.  Leap and do so with energy.  Joint or bong or edible.  Results are the same.  First time for everything.  Nothing to compare this with.  Complicated and now I know.

 

“Abstain.  Else, there will be repercussions.”  Is okay to just get up from the breakfast table and say.  “Not hungry.”  Is okay to know your limits and not snack between meals.  Edible and easy to ingest.  Happens before you know it, when out in a crowd, having fun with the crew.  Quickly absorbed into the bloodstream and then goes to the brain.  It happens.  Recreational but now we know.  Food administered as a drug.  It happens.  And if you are in the car, it could be dangerous. Even when you are not the driver.  Now I know.  And have served my time.  But now for the next 5 years, will be walking everywhere.  No driving.  And when in the car, am quiet and almost invisible. 

 “Be careful what you eat.”  I whisper to no one in particular.