haiku 1 Jun 2018

A bus to NY
The train north to 181
In Washington Heights


[ americanifesto / 場黑麥 / jpr / urbanartopia / whorphan ]

haiku 4 Dec 2017

Crunching frozen leaves
North wind blowing swiftly cruel
Jackets, gloves, and scarves

[ americanifesto / 場黑麥 / jpr / urbanartopia / whorphan ]

on falling short

This past Thor's day, I watched a North Korean propaganda video (see here.) Similar to other videos leaked from behind the bamboo curtain, this one was crudely cut together from pirated media; it featured a man explaining the ills of capitalism (his face was blurred out) and the methods by which our Western society keeps us numbed and tuned out to the world around us. I consider myself to be a forward-thinking individual who works hard to counter the incessant lure of materialism, who educates himself through non-US news sources (such as RT.com and AlAribiya.com), who does more than most other people he knows to eat well and avoid processed foods, and who does his part to combat terrorism and protect our natural environment by not driving a car but rather moving himself around on a bicycle. The video referenced above, however – even though it was a low-budget hodgepodge originating in a place the government of the United States says we must fear and mistrust, it made a lot of sense to me; upon watching it, I knew that in my efforts I was falling short, that I was just as much a puppet of this country's capitalistic overlords as my fellow Americans who engage in constant and shameless consumerism. This knowledge waned until I started trolling on tumblr, mesmerized by image upon image of tanned and buxom beauties, whereupon it returned full-force. I sat there in shame, looked upon the shamefulness of my ways, vowed to do better, performed a Death Meditation, and started the healing process anew. Aho.

mentiri factorem fecit – 場黑麥

on abandoning cars

Another Bucephalus has fallen victim to neglect, spendthrift, and procrastination. The car, a red Subaru Forester, the author's stout and loyal steed for the past 4 years, died in northern New Jersey on Saturday evening, something within it giving way with a sickening series of uncharacteristic crunching and groaning, screeching and banging. “At least $800 to repair what we think is wrong with it,” the woman at the repair shop told him once the mechanics had had a look at it on Monday morning. “But it could also be the water pump, or something else – we won't really know the total cost until we open it up and take a look inside.”

And so he consigned to the junk heap his faithful Sleipnir of night and fog, brave mount of a dark and fallen prince, choosing to wash his hands of it rather than invest more than the roughly $7000 already in. Bought out of necessity and a luxurious bauble stuck in the otherwise coarse and simple cloak of his life, his old friend will soon be torn apart, raided for parts, chopped, shopped, or simply put outside and left to rot. If he'd have had an extra $2000 lying around he might have had the recent ruptures repaired and a new serpentine belt installed; sacrifices must be made and expectations must be altered to reflect new realities, however, and, so, he'd signed the back of the car's title and put it in with the rest of Tuesday's mail. Requiescat in pacem, dear friend – you shall be missed.

His new mount, a gray and blue landshark-style bicycle that had sat under the front porch for nearly a decade, is once again working well: he has been riding it regularly for the past year. With new tires and brake pads fore and aft, fresh shifter cables, and rear spokes properly tuned, the velocipede allows him to go everywhere he needs to go around town and haul everything he might need to haul silently and without producing more exhaust than his own breath, more waste than that already gurgling in his guts. If he had but sold the car before it exploded, he might have recouped some of its value, but at least no one was injured when the automobile system failed, and he now has one less albatross dangling from his neck. At the end of the day, none can know what the Universe intends, and, so, the author accepts his new reality with a silent word of thanks to the shifting winds of Fortune for forcing him to make a difficult decision.

mentiri factorem fecit – 場黑麥