hum

very busy with rehearsals for the upcoming cirque de flambé show. recently it’s been monday cirque rehearsal, tuesday BBWP rehearsal, wednesday cirque rehearsal, thursday philharmonic rehearsal… then last week, friday we went to boise for three days to attend the wedding of laura and scott. laura is a friend of monique’s from high school and scott is a recently graduated from law school guy who lives in boise. boise is a hot, flat, dry place. i think a good word for it is “desert”, but that doesn’t leave much room for doubt, and with boise, there is some doubt. of course we went there on the first day in a long time that we’d had temperatures in the 90s at home, so it was to be expected that the temperature would be 20 degrees warmer where we were going. i’m glad we were on the road, and i’m glad we had air conditioning.

on the way back from boise, we stopped in the middle of nowhere so monique could meet one of the dog breeders she’s been talking to recently, and meet her dogs. she has 16, small, noisy, frantically entergetic dogs, and monique wants to get one, but i don’t think it will be from this lady. she’s gone with trudy to see a dog in gig harbor, one of the ones we looked at a few weeks ago. it’s all a mystery to me. one small yappy dog is more or less the same as the next, as far as i’m concerned, but moe has dreams of being a dog trainer when she grows up, so far be it for me to do anything but support her.

monique bought a powerbook after somebody gave her an ipod a couple of weeks ago, so i’ve spent the whole day rearranging things (again), and have finally got everything working again. basically the powerbook takes the place of the imac, but since it’s faster and more powerful, it also takes the place of the g3, which moves over to my desk, so now i have three computers on my desk.

i’ve wanted to start going to the vedanta society again, now that i’m not reliant on someone else to take me places, but so far i’ve been busy every week. i’ve come to what i believe is the end of a conversation with a couple of “christians”, one of whom is glen and the other one is MH from josh mcdowell ministries. they want to have a “conversation” with me concerning my web pages, but it has very quickly turned into a debate about whether they’re right or not. i recently found the index of logical fallacies which has been indispensible in my arguments with them. i accuse them of redefining infinity when they say that an infinite God is “qualitatively infinite but not quantitatevely infinite”, i accuse them of appeal to consequences, and am able to use the index to my advantage when they accuse me of “begging the question” but they don’t know what it means. they claim to use logic, but in reality they only use logic when it suits their purposes… which is fine as long as i am free to do the same, which i make no bones about. the minute they start saying that their random combination of manmade tradition, sacred revelation and holy scripture gobbledy gook is superior to mine they’re going to have to do a lot more than claim to be logical before i’m going to believe them.

meme avoidance

i couldn’t resist, and, as i suspected, this thing popped out emperor norton. who’s surprised by that?

I'm Joshua Abraham Norton, the first and only Emperor of the United States of America!
Which Historical Lunatic Are You?
From the fecund loins of Rum and Monkey.

You are Joshua Abraham Norton, first and only Emperor of the United States of America!

Born in England sometime in the second decade of the nineteenth century, you carved a notable business career, in South Africa and later San Francisco, until an entry into the rice market wiped out your fortune in 1854. After this, you became quite different. The first sign of this came on September 17, 1859, when you expressed your dissatisfaction with the political situation in America by declaring yourself Norton I, Emperor of the USA. You remained as such, unchallenged, for twenty-one years.

Within a month you had decreed the dissolution of Congress. When this was largely ignored, you summoned all interested parties to discuss the matter in a music hall, and then summoned the army to quell the rebellious leaders in Washington. This did not work. Magnanimously, you decreed (eventually) that Congress could remain for the time being. However, you disbanded both major political parties in 1869, as well as instituting a fine of $25 for using the abominable nickname “Frisco” for your home city.

Your days consisted of parading around your domain – the San Francisco streets – in a uniform of royal blue with gold epaulettes. This was set off by a beaver hat and umbrella. You dispensed philosophy and inspected the state of sidewalks and the police with equal aplomb. You were a great ally of the maligned Chinese of the city, and once dispersed a riot by standing between the Chinese and their would-be assailants and reciting the Lord’s Prayer quietly, head bowed.

Once arrested, you were swiftly pardoned by the Police Chief with all apologies, after which all policemen were ordered to salute you on the street. Your renown grew. Proprietors of respectable establishments fixed brass plaques to their walls proclaiming your patronage; musical and theatrical performances invariably reserved seats for you and your two dogs. (As an aside, you were a good friend of Mark Twain, who wrote an epitaph for one of your faithful hounds, Bummer.) The Census of 1870 listed your occupation as “Emperor”.

The Board of Supervisors of San Francisco, upon noticing the slightly delapidated state of your attire, replaced it at their own expense. You responded graciously by granting a patent of nobility to each member. Your death, collapsing on the street on January 8, 1880, made front page news under the headline “Le Roi est Mort”. Aside from what you had on your person, your possessions amounted to a single sovereign, a collection of walking sticks, an old sabre, your correspondence with Queen Victoria and 1,098,235 shares of stock in a worthless gold mine. Your funeral cortege was of 30,000 people and over two miles long.

The burial was marked by a total eclipse of the sun.

faw

i’m finally done enough that i can write something…


in the past six days i have performed jack and the bean stalk six times, performed with the fremont philharmonic three times, performed Big Bois With Poise once, waited in various different lines for approximately 12 hours, slept four nights in “mosquito acres” (otherwise known as “Chelamela staff camping”), spent 4 hours tearing down the stage, traveled almost 900 miles, got lost in Portland for 4 hours, spent 8 hours working, 3 hours getting my car fixed again, and 1 hour doing an emergency web update for diana.

country fair went well, although it was more of a job than a vacation. it was very odd seeing the dichotomy between the fantastic utopian dream that it could be (and almost is), and the harsh, stark reality of hippies that are so hung up on their own fantasy about “what country fair is”, that they complain because somebody has their tent set up 6 inches to the wrong side of some imaginary line that only exists in the hippie’s over-stoned brain, or bitching because they can’t drive against the flow of traffic, because that’s what they have “always done” at country fair, regardless of how unrealistic it is this year.

thursday afternoon check in was the most difficult part of the whole thing. i drove for 5 hours and parked in the “temporary” lot to check in and get my “wrist band” (which is one of the ways that they identify people and sort them out into categories), but my name wasn’t on the list, so i had to wait in line to see the “troubleshooter,” and then wait in a third line once the troubleshooter had straightened out whatever screwup had happened. then, once i had gotten the wrist band, i had to wait in line again so that i could have the priveledge of paying $5.00 to have it cut off and made into a laminated card that you wear around your neck, because the wrist band was too much like being in the hospital.

then i had to wait in line again to be able to drive my car to the place where we could offload our stuff (which was about a quarter of a mile from the actual camping site), and proceded to lock myself out of my car, so i had to go find the quartermaster, wait in line *again* while he did several other things before he found his lockout kit and opened my car… and after all that, i had to park about 2 miles away from where i was camped, which was about a mile away from the stage… john called it H.I.F.: Hippie Ineptitude Factor. i’m not entirely sure i approve of calling it that, since i *am* a hippie, but it seems to fit anyway.

the jack and phil performances went really well, and the phil sold all 50 cds that we had made (don’t worry, they were phil cds and not my personal cds), so there’s a possibility that i’ll even get paid eventually. BBWP was a gigantic hit: i heard someone that i didn’t know, ahead of me in line at the ritz, raving to someone else i didn’t know about how hilarious it was. there were probably 100 different artists that all swung poi with great aplomb and immaculate skill sunday night, but the one act that they’ll remember 10 years from now is BBWP, which is *REALLY* cool.

as i said before, i met one of the musicians from dreamtrybe. i was talking with pam and R.A., and got inspired to go and chant hare krsna with a bunch of hippies, and it turned out that the one who was leading the chant was from dreamtrybe. i hadn’t even thought of their album since my injury, but i remembered that i had bought the album for one particular song, and it turned out to be *exactly* what i needed to hear. i also saw carl (the one from bellingham, not the slime ball who was responsible for my unemployment), who i hadn’t seen since before my injury, tim “fyodor karamazov” of the flying karamazov brothers, who i haven’t seen for almost two years, and matthew bob, who was also camped in mosquito acres.

i saw jill friday and saturday. she lives in philomath, which is nearer to veneta (the town where country fair happened) than any other place i’ve been since i have been in contact with her. we hung out together for a couple of hours, and didn’t say much… which, i think, is a good thing. there’s really not much that needed to be said. it was nice hanging out with her and gawking at the hippies, and it was really nice to hang out without having to worry about her crazy step father and his shot gun. she had her daughter with her on saturday, and it was pretty odd to be introduced to an adult person whose mother i had originally met when her mother was younger than she was. it was a little awkward, because apparently jill isn’t as much of a hippie as i am, but at the same time, it’s been 25 years since we’ve seen each other, and a lot has changed for both of us in that time. apparently jill took a whole bunch of pictures while she was there, which she’ll be sending me, and i’ll probably post a couple of them either here or on my brain injury page when i get them.

by the time we got to country fair, the car was smoking. NOT what i wanted to see. it turned out that the constant velocity joint cover had come loose, so the smoke wasn’t serious enough to strand us in the middle of nowhere, but i had to get it fixed for real this time. supposedly it was supposed to be fixed on wednesday before i left, but i showed up and the guy who was going to do the work never showed up, so i had to drive to and from with a leaky power steering line, and a constant velocity joint that was smoking. hopefully, now that it’s fixed for real, i won’t have any more problems for a while and i can work on turning it into an art car with no further distractions.

it was kinda sad, not being with my sweetie on my birthday, but i made up for it by taking a 6 hour sauna at the ritz (note to self: the next time, buy a house with a sauna!) and buying myself a double dragon brooch, which is shaped like the letter “S”. i also got goodies for moe, so she wouldn’t feel left out when i got home: a goblin “bonnet” with horns, and two pairs of earrings. all in all, i spent too much money at the fair, so i guess i’m going to have to go back to work again. sigh.

heb

Why did you tap me on the shoulder in my sleep last night,
Telling me I must write this song now, that the time is right,
They’re gonna think I’ve lost my mind,
Some of them will be unkind,
When I say

THERE IS NO HELL!

We do not die,
We are not gone,
We are alive,
We are just on
The other side,
We are not dead,
We are alive,
We do not die!
We do not die!

They’re gonna wonder how I got this information here,
What will they say when I tell them you whispered in my ear,
How can I prove their greatest fears
Have been unfounded all these years,
The truth is

THERE IS NO HELL!

We do not die,
We are not gone,
We are alive,
We are just on
The other side,
We are not dead,
We are alive,
We do not die!
We do not die!

So many people have seen the light,
When what they thought was the end in sight…

I’m not the only one who shares this bold philosophy,
I can only say that what I saw is plain to see,
But I was once a skeptic too,
Until the day I heard from you,
When you said

THERE IS NO HELL!

We do not die,
We are not gone,
We are alive,
We are just on
The other side,
We are not dead,
We are alive,
We do not die!
We do not die!

– Dreamtrybe

it’s shockwave heavy and caused my browser to crash, but it’s http://www.dreamtrybe.com if you want to give it a try.

i got their album Acoustic Autumn specifically for this song, about a year before my injury. i hadn’t thought about it until country fair, when i met one of the musicians in Dreamtrybe and dug their album out again.

more about fair later. i’ve got to go get my car fixed (!#@$^%&!!).

the enlightened rantings of a brain damaged freak