Blowing winds fly birds;
Earth, on its hurtling orbits,
Carries man starward
americanifesto / 場黑麥 / jpr / urbanartopia / whorphan
Showing posts with label earth. Show all posts
Showing posts with label earth. Show all posts
06 October 2017
31 July 2017
happy Monday morning
A thousand pages of truthful speaking get ruined by a single, whispered lie.
Without much ado, a million gentle patriots adopt hard-hearted nationalism.
There’s turmoil on the Potomac, an angry old failure generating headlines.
The voices of doubt and torment grow; they’ll be silenced by eternal sleep only.
And yet the sun keeps spinning, dragging Earth along with it.
Will our living planet rejoice when we let slip the nukes of blinding war?
Maybe - just maybe - she’ll weep for her violent and greedy children...
...they who could not manage to live in harmony, or peace.
americanifesto / 場黑麥 / jpr / urbanartopia / whorphan
Without much ado, a million gentle patriots adopt hard-hearted nationalism.
There’s turmoil on the Potomac, an angry old failure generating headlines.
The voices of doubt and torment grow; they’ll be silenced by eternal sleep only.
And yet the sun keeps spinning, dragging Earth along with it.
Will our living planet rejoice when we let slip the nukes of blinding war?
Maybe - just maybe - she’ll weep for her violent and greedy children...
...they who could not manage to live in harmony, or peace.
americanifesto / 場黑麥 / jpr / urbanartopia / whorphan
29 June 2012
on gardening as a slacker
Every morning, at 0530A, an alarm sounds, triggering my body into wakefulness. Being a spoiled, snot-nosed American brat and a generally worthless individual, and seeing as how I endeavor to shrink my bad and to grow my good characteristics, I have taken on the awesome responsibility of gardening. That row cover of tulle draped tightly over spans of freshly-split bamboo? Installed yesterday. That Third-World-style drip irrigation unit my missionary uncle sent me via insured mail five weeks ago? Installed last weekend. Yes, though I sometimes take a bit longer to get things done than I might ought to, I am learning a lot from the three separate gardens growing on this dacha's property, among them one that was donated, one that I am growing for a silent partner, and one that I grew from seed. Add to these two fledgling blueberry bushes (which are stuck in a sort of limbo) and one string-bean plant peeking from beneath an upside-down planter hanging on the back patio, and the opportunities for work become endless.
Every morning, as rosy-fingered Dawn is caressing the world with the promise of day but before the chariot of the sun-god has crested the horizon, I haul water up from the stream to moisten the earth within the various plots. And again in the evening, when Helios begins to dip toward the horizon and the birds start flocking home to roost, the soil drinks deeply of the cool running brook. To my great fortune, a good friend gave me a stack of Mother Earth News magazines, and, while foxing around in the barn, I found a trove of Organic Gardening magazines from the 1970s and '80s that I have been reading and studying, and from which I have gleaned much valuable knowledge. What, you ask, is the most useful bit of advice I have come across? Beyond the row-covers of tulle and the genius of drip irrigation, the most useful advice has been to never leave ground uncovered, i.e. that one should always cover one's soil with at least some form of mulch (grass clippings, leaves, layers of cardboard) so that it does not bake too badly in the sun and so that it is always gaining some sort of nutrients as things above it decompose.
I think back often to the lessons my parents once taught me, long ago, before they died, and I am tempted to chide myself for not remembering them, for not having paid better attention to what they said, and for not heeding their advice, but, instead, I bask happily in the memories and try to learn as much as I can from the soil sitting in my hands, from the plants growing in the ground, from the wind, from the rain, and from the subtle interplay that occurs when all of these elements conspire together, somehow, to make life. Among the most enduring lessons I am learning is this: no matter how barren soil may seem, it has the seemingly endless capacity to bounce back. This is but my first time doing this sort of work, but, by Liberty, I like it.
場黑麥 mentiri manufactorem fecit
Every morning, as rosy-fingered Dawn is caressing the world with the promise of day but before the chariot of the sun-god has crested the horizon, I haul water up from the stream to moisten the earth within the various plots. And again in the evening, when Helios begins to dip toward the horizon and the birds start flocking home to roost, the soil drinks deeply of the cool running brook. To my great fortune, a good friend gave me a stack of Mother Earth News magazines, and, while foxing around in the barn, I found a trove of Organic Gardening magazines from the 1970s and '80s that I have been reading and studying, and from which I have gleaned much valuable knowledge. What, you ask, is the most useful bit of advice I have come across? Beyond the row-covers of tulle and the genius of drip irrigation, the most useful advice has been to never leave ground uncovered, i.e. that one should always cover one's soil with at least some form of mulch (grass clippings, leaves, layers of cardboard) so that it does not bake too badly in the sun and so that it is always gaining some sort of nutrients as things above it decompose.
I think back often to the lessons my parents once taught me, long ago, before they died, and I am tempted to chide myself for not remembering them, for not having paid better attention to what they said, and for not heeding their advice, but, instead, I bask happily in the memories and try to learn as much as I can from the soil sitting in my hands, from the plants growing in the ground, from the wind, from the rain, and from the subtle interplay that occurs when all of these elements conspire together, somehow, to make life. Among the most enduring lessons I am learning is this: no matter how barren soil may seem, it has the seemingly endless capacity to bounce back. This is but my first time doing this sort of work, but, by Liberty, I like it.
場黑麥 mentiri manufactorem fecit
04 May 2012
on running on rock
A legend survives in the world of running: that asphalt is softer than concrete, and that it is better for one's knees to run in the street rather than on the sidewalk. Whoever first spread this myth was not an avid or longtime runner, nor did he or she physically test (as with a hammer or other solid object) the springiness or bounciness of asphalt (compared, for example, to dirt) in order to make sure what he or she was saying was actually true.
This myth – although it is widely popular – is not true. Please, runners seeking to avoid bodily injury, please do not run in the streets, for if you do, you risk being hit by passing cars, and you cause disruptions to the flow of vehicular traffic. Please, runners seeking to protect knees or hips, please do not run on concrete, pavement, asphalt, stone, macadam, or any other hard and unyielding surface; individuals seeking yielding, joint-friendly running trails would do well to run on grassy or earthen tracks.
I no longer run regularly, nor do I currently chair my local municipality's Department of Street Works; therefore, I do not know if a procedure for making joint-friendly asphalt has been invented, and whether or not every street in America has been repaved accordingly. A side note: I often see persons running on the edges of busy streets, with traffic. To run – or to walk – with traffic is to all but beg for bodily trauma, general physical paralysis, and a slow, painful death. When one walks or runs in the same direction as traffic, one cannot see cars coming from behind, and, therefore, one has no warning at all of an impending collision. Alternately, when one walks or runs in the direction opposite of traffic, one has at least a few milliseconds to jump out of the way should a car happen to veer outside of its lane. While the logic of moving against traffic seems sound, I am nonetheless dismayed that, unlike the illogic of running on rocks, it has fled from the minds of those evidently self-respecting, otherwise healthy individuals who strap on go-fasters and get out for a nice jog.
I shall, however, stop worrying about the poor life-choices made by other people, and start looking for a bright side in all of this: the self-removal of unthinking fools from the general breeding population. Please, dear friend, stay safe out there by staying smart, keeping your head on a swivel and a song in your heart. Mahalo.
場黑麥 mentiri factorem fecit
This myth – although it is widely popular – is not true. Please, runners seeking to avoid bodily injury, please do not run in the streets, for if you do, you risk being hit by passing cars, and you cause disruptions to the flow of vehicular traffic. Please, runners seeking to protect knees or hips, please do not run on concrete, pavement, asphalt, stone, macadam, or any other hard and unyielding surface; individuals seeking yielding, joint-friendly running trails would do well to run on grassy or earthen tracks.
I no longer run regularly, nor do I currently chair my local municipality's Department of Street Works; therefore, I do not know if a procedure for making joint-friendly asphalt has been invented, and whether or not every street in America has been repaved accordingly. A side note: I often see persons running on the edges of busy streets, with traffic. To run – or to walk – with traffic is to all but beg for bodily trauma, general physical paralysis, and a slow, painful death. When one walks or runs in the same direction as traffic, one cannot see cars coming from behind, and, therefore, one has no warning at all of an impending collision. Alternately, when one walks or runs in the direction opposite of traffic, one has at least a few milliseconds to jump out of the way should a car happen to veer outside of its lane. While the logic of moving against traffic seems sound, I am nonetheless dismayed that, unlike the illogic of running on rocks, it has fled from the minds of those evidently self-respecting, otherwise healthy individuals who strap on go-fasters and get out for a nice jog.
I shall, however, stop worrying about the poor life-choices made by other people, and start looking for a bright side in all of this: the self-removal of unthinking fools from the general breeding population. Please, dear friend, stay safe out there by staying smart, keeping your head on a swivel and a song in your heart. Mahalo.
場黑麥 mentiri factorem fecit
30 April 2012
on trashing Mother
Please, patriotic citizens of America, please take a moment, at some point during the day today, to consider just how much we litter in this land. For all of the bluster and fuss about everyone being patriotic and waving flags and hanging them from cars and homes and businesses, we show great disrespect, even outright hatred, for the motherland – she who is fair Columbia – by disposing of our trash in inappropriate places. Fast food cups fill meadows and ditches; plastic take-home containers tumble in breezes; and our parks and forests are strewn with waste large and small, tin cans and candy wrappers and all sorts of other items discarded carelessly and without a moment's humble consideration. To claim patriotism is a poor and hollow substitute for acting in such a way as to cause as little harm, and as little disruption, to the natural condition of the many wild areas with which we as a People are blessed. (It is a unbearably shameful that we stole these lands from the First People tribes who lived here first, and that we murdered them gleefully and treated them as if they were worth less than beasts, but that is beside the point of this article.)
Beyond the more visible forms of litter, the byproducts created by the explosion of gasoline inside a car's engine – particulate matters, soots, and noxious gases – are all forms of litter; therefore, it is important for everyone who is capable to ride a bicycle and to avoid driving as much as possible. The true patriot does everything in her power to minimize the harm her actions cause the motherland; just as she would not stuff handfuls of empty candy-bar wrappers into her biological mother's vagina, so she does not toss them heedlessly into her local rivers. Just as she would not douse her birth-mom with a gallon of spent engine-oil, so she avoids dumping any fluids other than water directly into the curb-side drainage pipe.
It would seem, perhaps, that this article covers things that people already know, that it would be unthinkable to imagine that there are individuals in this land who are such tremendous assholes that they would pour our their waste, discard their trash, and flick their cigarettes butts onto the first available natural surface, but it is true. We are a nation of individuals seduced by the notion of a false convenience, tricked by advertisers, pastors, and politicians into thinking that our daily actions do not amount to much, that things shall soon get better. America is great because of industrious, positive individual effort, but our negative, careless individual efforts are costing her dearly, and leaving her stained, tainted, and diseased. So, please, dear friends, please pack out anything you pack in, leave your surroundings better than they were when you found them, and nourish a love for Mother earth as vast as is the love you feel for yourself.
場黑麥 mentiri factorem fecit
Beyond the more visible forms of litter, the byproducts created by the explosion of gasoline inside a car's engine – particulate matters, soots, and noxious gases – are all forms of litter; therefore, it is important for everyone who is capable to ride a bicycle and to avoid driving as much as possible. The true patriot does everything in her power to minimize the harm her actions cause the motherland; just as she would not stuff handfuls of empty candy-bar wrappers into her biological mother's vagina, so she does not toss them heedlessly into her local rivers. Just as she would not douse her birth-mom with a gallon of spent engine-oil, so she avoids dumping any fluids other than water directly into the curb-side drainage pipe.
It would seem, perhaps, that this article covers things that people already know, that it would be unthinkable to imagine that there are individuals in this land who are such tremendous assholes that they would pour our their waste, discard their trash, and flick their cigarettes butts onto the first available natural surface, but it is true. We are a nation of individuals seduced by the notion of a false convenience, tricked by advertisers, pastors, and politicians into thinking that our daily actions do not amount to much, that things shall soon get better. America is great because of industrious, positive individual effort, but our negative, careless individual efforts are costing her dearly, and leaving her stained, tainted, and diseased. So, please, dear friends, please pack out anything you pack in, leave your surroundings better than they were when you found them, and nourish a love for Mother earth as vast as is the love you feel for yourself.
場黑麥 mentiri factorem fecit
27 April 2012
on trucks, ravens, and NOTW
Recently, while going somewhere atop my velocipede, I was passed by a pickup-truck driven by a solitary individual. Affixed to the back of this vehicle were two stickers, one reading “Ravens – Relentless,” the other, “NOTW.” While it will not shock this website's regular readers that I am once again writing about the idiocy of the loose affiliation of non-earth-bound, religiously-fanatical individuals who see themselves as being Not Of This World (NOTW), the dichotomy of the aforementioned stickers was, at the time, quite striking.
For starters, Webster's New Collegiate Dictionary from 1961 defines relentless as: “Mercilessly harsh, stern.” If anything is to be gleaned from the teachings of Yeshua (also known as Iesu, or Jesus), it is that one should – always, and without fail – be compassionate toward others, and that one should honor and love others as one would honor and love oneself. The teachings of this wise man focus, perhaps more than on anything else, on becoming a merciful and generous person whose only wish is to serve the lowly, to assist the meek, and to aid the disenfranchised. According to the Christian bible, the only time that this Yeshua acted in a truly harsh or stern fashion was when he drove – by whipping them with chains – money-lenders from temple in a brazen (yet obviously unsuccessful) attempt to rid faith of finance.
Next, the compassionate individual cares for the Earth and for Nature; he wishes to shelter and to promote the growing and the teeming things, no matter their size, shape, or color; the last thing that the true believer in the message of Yeshua would do would be to burn crude oil in an unnecessarily large (and lifted, or modified to ride higher and with inferior aerodynamics) truck by driving himself around the countryside in his two-ton vehicle at high speeds, to mow through clouds of insects, crushing them against the front of his car, or to live in such as way as to make any form of driving a (supposed) necessity. The last thing he would do would be to allow himself to become so engrossed in a foreign-born game that he would go out and purchase a sticker for his car instead of using that money to support efforts aimed at environmental conservation and the preservation of the myriad species.
And, finally, the true believer in Yeshua's message would not to spend his time watching, discussing, thinking on, or musing about the intricate details of such a decidedly earth-bound and petty thing as American football – the true believer would spend his time discussing, thinking on, and musing about how best to give to the poor, to help the needy, to uplift the downtrodden, and to live in such a way as to cause as little negative impact as possible to the health of this, our only planet.
To attempt to love Yeshua, football, and pickup-trucks at the same time is akin to trying to walk while sitting and standing; please, dear friends, remember the lessons of humility and mercy, and cast aside the creeping doubt of relentless and unbridled passion.
場黑麥 mentiri factorem fecit
For starters, Webster's New Collegiate Dictionary from 1961 defines relentless as: “Mercilessly harsh, stern.” If anything is to be gleaned from the teachings of Yeshua (also known as Iesu, or Jesus), it is that one should – always, and without fail – be compassionate toward others, and that one should honor and love others as one would honor and love oneself. The teachings of this wise man focus, perhaps more than on anything else, on becoming a merciful and generous person whose only wish is to serve the lowly, to assist the meek, and to aid the disenfranchised. According to the Christian bible, the only time that this Yeshua acted in a truly harsh or stern fashion was when he drove – by whipping them with chains – money-lenders from temple in a brazen (yet obviously unsuccessful) attempt to rid faith of finance.
Next, the compassionate individual cares for the Earth and for Nature; he wishes to shelter and to promote the growing and the teeming things, no matter their size, shape, or color; the last thing that the true believer in the message of Yeshua would do would be to burn crude oil in an unnecessarily large (and lifted, or modified to ride higher and with inferior aerodynamics) truck by driving himself around the countryside in his two-ton vehicle at high speeds, to mow through clouds of insects, crushing them against the front of his car, or to live in such as way as to make any form of driving a (supposed) necessity. The last thing he would do would be to allow himself to become so engrossed in a foreign-born game that he would go out and purchase a sticker for his car instead of using that money to support efforts aimed at environmental conservation and the preservation of the myriad species.
And, finally, the true believer in Yeshua's message would not to spend his time watching, discussing, thinking on, or musing about the intricate details of such a decidedly earth-bound and petty thing as American football – the true believer would spend his time discussing, thinking on, and musing about how best to give to the poor, to help the needy, to uplift the downtrodden, and to live in such a way as to cause as little negative impact as possible to the health of this, our only planet.
To attempt to love Yeshua, football, and pickup-trucks at the same time is akin to trying to walk while sitting and standing; please, dear friends, remember the lessons of humility and mercy, and cast aside the creeping doubt of relentless and unbridled passion.
場黑麥 mentiri factorem fecit
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