Oh lazy rivers
Willoughby, Waring, and Kling
Your asphalt I miss
americanifesto / 場黑麥 / jpr / urbanartopia / whorphan
Willoughby, Waring, and Kling
Your asphalt I miss
americanifesto / 場黑麥 / jpr / urbanartopia / whorphan
Showing posts with label lazy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label lazy. Show all posts
20 October 2017
15 October 2012
on frequent simplification
During the course of my writing, I often work myself into a lather while exploring the apparent evils of this particular group or while expounding upon the virtues of one idea or the other. This, dear reader, is a dangerous trend. This, my friend, is something I shall endeavor to do less of, in future. The writer who over-simplifies issues of any type nearly always proves to be a holier-than-thou, fly-in-my-soup cocksucker with no more of an idea how to solve the situations he sees as problems than the smart and talented motherfuckers who – due to position, wealth, or access – actually can; my ideas and notions are, to judge by my readership statistics, old, tired, worn, full of redundant or faulty reasoning, and flat out lame; my frequent use of personal opinions violates the fundamental rules contained in The Elements of Style, Strunk and White's ultimate and indispensable writer's handbook. (I am tempted, at times, as I sit here struggling for syntax in this cold but sunny room, to increase the level of fire and brimstone and really start head-hunting for easy pickings, unless I am doing that already, in which case I am not surprised that few people spend time to read the fruits of my labor, which are as close to beating dead horses as one can get without showering afterward.)
Perhaps it is out of laziness, perhaps it is due to my inability to see the Big Picture, but, mostly, I find that when I write on these sites I stick to simplification; they make for quick and juicy arguments, for high-fructose vituperations that so closely resemble candy-floss as to make a body's sweet tooth twinge. It is likely that I need to step away from these blogs for a spell, to take a week off in honor of the first fall frost in order to give my brains' writing centers a break after working them continuously since last December. (Upon review, it appears as if I have been posting six days a week for the past ten months, now, a streak I dare not break for fear of shaking the foundations of my fledgling sanity.)
I don't think I nor any other simpleton writing today could avoid using simplification for too long, since writing in specifics would be akin to trying to condense all of mankind's knowledge and knowing into a Complete Theory of the Entire Universe, a task for which only a few living people are equipped with the necessary patience, genius, and understanding. (I am not one of these people.) To cut down on frequent simplification seems a good place to start if I hope to improve the quality of my writing's content, however, let alone if I want to inject a shred of rational analysis or positive thinking into my daily word-smithing. And so, I say, begone, ye foul generalization! Out with you, simplified thinking! Welcome in, old man Compassion; make yourself at home on the couch next to lady Moderation; stay a while, oh humble hubris, in this whorphan's cluttered and sad excuse for a functional mind. Oh, what great fun it is to be alive. Mahalo.
© mentiri factorem fecit (場黑麥)
Perhaps it is out of laziness, perhaps it is due to my inability to see the Big Picture, but, mostly, I find that when I write on these sites I stick to simplification; they make for quick and juicy arguments, for high-fructose vituperations that so closely resemble candy-floss as to make a body's sweet tooth twinge. It is likely that I need to step away from these blogs for a spell, to take a week off in honor of the first fall frost in order to give my brains' writing centers a break after working them continuously since last December. (Upon review, it appears as if I have been posting six days a week for the past ten months, now, a streak I dare not break for fear of shaking the foundations of my fledgling sanity.)
I don't think I nor any other simpleton writing today could avoid using simplification for too long, since writing in specifics would be akin to trying to condense all of mankind's knowledge and knowing into a Complete Theory of the Entire Universe, a task for which only a few living people are equipped with the necessary patience, genius, and understanding. (I am not one of these people.) To cut down on frequent simplification seems a good place to start if I hope to improve the quality of my writing's content, however, let alone if I want to inject a shred of rational analysis or positive thinking into my daily word-smithing. And so, I say, begone, ye foul generalization! Out with you, simplified thinking! Welcome in, old man Compassion; make yourself at home on the couch next to lady Moderation; stay a while, oh humble hubris, in this whorphan's cluttered and sad excuse for a functional mind. Oh, what great fun it is to be alive. Mahalo.
© mentiri factorem fecit (場黑麥)
07 September 2012
lazy organic gardening
(Most of the knowledge passed on in this article comes from a few dozen Organic Gardening magazines I found in a dust-and-cobweb-covered stack in the barn. While printed in the late 1970s and early '80s, they contain timeless wisdom and much good advice.)
Throughout the spring and summer of 2012, this author has been conducting an experiment in lazy organic gardening (LOG). Among the benefits of LOG are a decreased workload, a drastic reduction in gardening-related stress, and three gardening plots nearly indistinguishable from their neighbors, wildflower-filled fallow fields. The inspiration for this method came in part from the Tao Teh Ching, specifically verse 7, in which Lao Tzu (via Jonathan Star, who provides the best translation of the text I have yet found) asks what an individual could do that the universe has not already accomplished for him, or her. Liking the sound of this notion and attempting to put it into practice, I started by digging out the plots to sixteen inches before setting in a three-inch-thick layer of composted leaves and grass, to which I added generous handfuls of bio-charred bamboo (wood-charcoal works just as well) before piling the dug-out soil back on. When planting, I applied thick layers of mulch around each newly-transplanted seedling (mulch was mostly cut grass with some leaves and twigs mixed in). (Next year, I shall raise my seedlings in a cold frame in hopes of a greater success rate, which this year was a dismal 15%). Then, I stepped away and waited, watering the plots (partly via small-scale drip irrigation) only when the first six inches of soil dried out.
Among the benefits of thick and early mulching include almost no weed growth and preservation of the soil's inherent, natural moisture balance. Bio-charring contributed to the vigorous and healthy growth of those few plants that survived my poor seedling-raising protocols, among them crook-neck squash, potatoes, cherry tomatoes, string beans, and green peppers. Pollination occurred quickly at both plot sites (two near the house, the other across the stream), given their proximity to large growths of jewel-weed, native and healing grasses (plantago lanceolata, p. major, taraxacum offinale, oxalis acetosella), and patches of wild blackberries that attract legions of industrious honey-bees which have made this little valley their home. At no point in the plants' life-cycles did this whorphan pull weeds, pick bugs, or apply chemical agents; the plants were left at the mercy of Mother Nature, who was fair in her attentions, sending pest-eating paper wasps to patrol the crops but also blighting a number of plantings, among them the cabbage and broccoli, which were completely destroyed. (This was an attempt to put the Taoist verse referenced above into practice by allowing the universe to grow the plants and to keep them healthy.)
For next year's growing seasons, I plan to take things further by trying a no-till method in which seedlings are transplanted directly into small, watered, composted holes in the lawn itself. Furthermore, I shall plant directly into the plot I made by dropping a four-layer-thick pad of cardboard (pizza boxes) onto the lawn and covering it with twelve inches of grass and leaves. (The original foot of material has composted itself down to just few inches, which I have covered with another foot of the same.) I aim to find (and perpetuate) varieties that grow well both in this clay-filled soil and in the local atmospheric variances, which include high summer heat, soggy springs and falls, and windy, cold winters. The ultimate coup for this lazy organic gardener would be to make tame crop species wild again so that they would offer their bounty to anyone passing by, blessing the bodies of persons-in-the-know with organic roughage and healthful trace minerals and strengthening the immune systems of persons brave enough to eat unwashed produce straight from the ground. Such is the life of the organic whorphan, he who would rather watch his plants get eaten alive than break out noxious chemicals; but to pump complex compounds into the soil and the air would be to try to do for myself what the universe has already accomplished, which, for now, is an abundance of fresh, organic vegetables. Huzzah, and, mahalo.
場黑麥 mentiri factorem fecit
Throughout the spring and summer of 2012, this author has been conducting an experiment in lazy organic gardening (LOG). Among the benefits of LOG are a decreased workload, a drastic reduction in gardening-related stress, and three gardening plots nearly indistinguishable from their neighbors, wildflower-filled fallow fields. The inspiration for this method came in part from the Tao Teh Ching, specifically verse 7, in which Lao Tzu (via Jonathan Star, who provides the best translation of the text I have yet found) asks what an individual could do that the universe has not already accomplished for him, or her. Liking the sound of this notion and attempting to put it into practice, I started by digging out the plots to sixteen inches before setting in a three-inch-thick layer of composted leaves and grass, to which I added generous handfuls of bio-charred bamboo (wood-charcoal works just as well) before piling the dug-out soil back on. When planting, I applied thick layers of mulch around each newly-transplanted seedling (mulch was mostly cut grass with some leaves and twigs mixed in). (Next year, I shall raise my seedlings in a cold frame in hopes of a greater success rate, which this year was a dismal 15%). Then, I stepped away and waited, watering the plots (partly via small-scale drip irrigation) only when the first six inches of soil dried out.
Among the benefits of thick and early mulching include almost no weed growth and preservation of the soil's inherent, natural moisture balance. Bio-charring contributed to the vigorous and healthy growth of those few plants that survived my poor seedling-raising protocols, among them crook-neck squash, potatoes, cherry tomatoes, string beans, and green peppers. Pollination occurred quickly at both plot sites (two near the house, the other across the stream), given their proximity to large growths of jewel-weed, native and healing grasses (plantago lanceolata, p. major, taraxacum offinale, oxalis acetosella), and patches of wild blackberries that attract legions of industrious honey-bees which have made this little valley their home. At no point in the plants' life-cycles did this whorphan pull weeds, pick bugs, or apply chemical agents; the plants were left at the mercy of Mother Nature, who was fair in her attentions, sending pest-eating paper wasps to patrol the crops but also blighting a number of plantings, among them the cabbage and broccoli, which were completely destroyed. (This was an attempt to put the Taoist verse referenced above into practice by allowing the universe to grow the plants and to keep them healthy.)
For next year's growing seasons, I plan to take things further by trying a no-till method in which seedlings are transplanted directly into small, watered, composted holes in the lawn itself. Furthermore, I shall plant directly into the plot I made by dropping a four-layer-thick pad of cardboard (pizza boxes) onto the lawn and covering it with twelve inches of grass and leaves. (The original foot of material has composted itself down to just few inches, which I have covered with another foot of the same.) I aim to find (and perpetuate) varieties that grow well both in this clay-filled soil and in the local atmospheric variances, which include high summer heat, soggy springs and falls, and windy, cold winters. The ultimate coup for this lazy organic gardener would be to make tame crop species wild again so that they would offer their bounty to anyone passing by, blessing the bodies of persons-in-the-know with organic roughage and healthful trace minerals and strengthening the immune systems of persons brave enough to eat unwashed produce straight from the ground. Such is the life of the organic whorphan, he who would rather watch his plants get eaten alive than break out noxious chemicals; but to pump complex compounds into the soil and the air would be to try to do for myself what the universe has already accomplished, which, for now, is an abundance of fresh, organic vegetables. Huzzah, and, mahalo.
場黑麥 mentiri factorem fecit
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)