all the live long day

Burlington Northern and Santa Fe Railways… the connotation is warm. The combination is hot, for Warren Buffett, anyway. But I’m just playing with the words here. I know very little about the investment, the mess of money, the $34 billion changing hands, the back and forth shuffling of such commerce, all that’s on the line, the possibility of economic derailment… blah, blah, blah.
But when I hear the name, the brand, the icon Burlington, I think of trains, but then I think of coats and socks. Again, branding has scarred my brain. Oh, and Santa Fe, please. What has that to do with railways, I don’t know. It’s an unreal mockery-ville to the north of Albuquerque whose inhabitants are numb to the new-age artsy sweatlodge gift shop a-go-go status that brings in millions in tourist dollars along with the overly cordial presence of tribal-owned casinos along the way to and from the airport.
The railroads are things. The names of the places once closely associated with those things are memories, no more relevant than any arbitrary label invented yesterday at a marketing meeting.
Railroad companies have been named for places. Places have been named for railroad companies. I live in such a place. Frisco, TX. Never would anyone in San Francisco allow their city to be called Frisco. To do so would mark one as an obvious visitor. But here, in Frisco, Frisco is called Frisco. When we moved here in 1992 only 6000 other souls called this town home. Now the population is close to 106 thousand. Still, I cannot resist my favorite nickname for this suburb north of Dallas: Frisco, City by the Hay. There is still plenty of hay all over the place, even with the railroad coming through town.

remember…

The nature of this venue does not put a premium on research. This is no publication of record. It’s the Internet. Worse, it’s a blog. A web log. A log on the web. It is a log of blurbs and nonverbal verbiage because it has not been verbalized, actually uttered other than through these fingers upon this keyboard, and then, if you are a tormented with cognition, the voice you are hearing as you read this. The difference is that I don’t talk this way, the way these words are coming out here on this screen, unless I am writing. Or do I? I don’t really know. Sometimes and not.

Source: Wikipedia

I remember very little of what I say when I say a thing or two verbally, using the articulation tools from my guts to the end of my nose.  ((Some would include body movements, facial expressions and gestures often accompanying my speech.))  So, I’m discovering as these words accumulate on this log, I do not remember them as I thought I should or would. But that’s okay. They are here. That’s where the log part of blog comes in. That’s for what logs are. And the web, it’s for convenience, I suppose. Otherwise I probably would not have written here what I have written. But I did. I wrote them on this day, the 5th of November.

Upon hearing this date I’m reminded of it, of hearing the date spoken, verbalized, written about, cataloged, sung even. The singing part was what I couldn’t get out of my head. Instantly John Lennon’s song surfaced amidst the chemical flora and fauna playing with each other in the forest that is my gray matter. Some call it memory. I remembered the song, but not the title. Irony blesses my life again. This called for action on which the nature of this venue does not put a premium. ((Research. Remember? NOTE: First mentioned in the first sentence, first paragraph of this post.))
What I remembered most about the song was its finish, the last line. I dug a bit and found quite a few sites offered lyrics to all of John Lennon’s song catalog. To my amazement the first few sites showed different versions of the same song, different from each other, and certainly varied from what I remembered. The thing is, I don’t trust my memory as once I did. This is probably a mistake. I’ve discovered that I’ve remembered incorrectly far fewer times than not, even with younger, fresher minds at hand. Nevertheless, I could have sworn that Mr. Lennon ended the song Remember with “the 5th of November.” But the versions of lyrics I beheld through my “research” had omitted those words. ((Forgive me when I say that I felt like somebody was playing mind games.))  Anyway, I looked around until I found a couple of sites that did indeed agree with my memory. And so, I felt a lot better about a few things. Just couldn’t remember what.

Remember

Remember when you were young
How the hero was never hung
Always got away
Remember how the man
Used to leave you empty handed
Always, always let you down
If you ever change your mind
About leaving it all behind
Remember, remember, today
And don’t feel sorry
The way it’s gone
And don’t you worry
‘Bout what you’ve done
Remember when you were small
How people seemed so tall
Always had their way
Remember your ma and pa
Just wishing for movie stardom
Always, always playing a part
If you ever feel so sad
And the whole world is
driving you mad
Remember, remember, today
And don’t feel sorry
‘Bout the way it’s gone
And don’t you worry
‘Bout what you’ve done
o, no, remember, remember
The fifth of November.

John Lennon

Oh, and something about a Guy named Fawkes…

 

soylent chartreuse

spoyler alert… it’s people…  and kinda stupid… ((as are some people, like, for example, those who write about it 35 years later… and those who read about it… and those who, when they write, excessively use ellipses as a smooth and default-type of punctuation…)) happened in a movie a long time ago with a story set in a future still eleven years in…  the future, as in, from now. I decided to watch this quasi classic film again a few days ago, what with Thanksgiving and all. This was only the second time I had watched it since seeing the first time. Duh. (more…)

The Gyre

Notions are hardly worth their whimsy, rising as oblong pockets from
Feathered beds below the glassy sheet of calm.  Nature turned her head
Away while coughing, politely sparing us the lurches and trauma here
As distant to one place as to another. No state or nation or kingdom
Within the sound of our still ocean cradle, resting our feet instead
Along the dark-shored island, floating but not drifting, our deepest fear
On its way to greet us. But that’s only half of it. The others continue
Spreading the dullest sunshine of hope from beach to dotted beach,
Solvents disbursing the beads of lives lived before fines imposed
Language flowering from tongues tasting another tart idea in you,
Sharp and bitter in tone and meaning, piano strings tuned each (more…)

the perfect brick

is hard to find… it’s harder than a brick to find. Especially if it is a perfect brick you are trying to find. Perfection in a brick cannot be overrated. No perfection can. Yet, a brick of perfection will go unnoticed amidst all lesser bricks because nothing other than its equal is capable of knowing such perfection. Part of its imperfection is that an imperfect brick cannocomprehend the perfection of a perfect brick. (more…)

easier if you don’t

One of my favorite tweeters tweeted this most zen-like principle:
It’s easier for you to act on your desires today if you don’t …      More for Virgo

This is ambiguity on a poetic level, more beautiful as the accident that is its serendipity.
Yeah, sure, the elipsis leads to the completion of the sentence via the url that begs all Virgos follow it. But it doesn’t have to. The sentence is nice and sturdy as is. Just take away the dot dot dot and put a single dot at the end instead.
(more…)

Klaatu called, he wants his shiny metallic object back

 

Klaatu says howdy as Gort looks for weapons to melt.

Klaatu says howdy as Gort scans for potential weapons to melt.

Professor Barnhart, the smartest man in the world, contacted the offices of Sacred Clone Chronicles with news of a communication he received from Klaatu.

“Moriblaz kliphm noopro lantupulo psyrintlib maraclin,”said Klaatu, according to Barnhart.

“It goes on like this for about eight hundred pages or so,” said Barnhart. “Here, I’ll read it to you: Moncli nadoplictonrinca sphlectisto marapulo victu marinngane….  And then on page 477 the whole tone of the message changes after the word ‘Boyonce.’ Turns out that’s how the pronounce Beyonce in their language.”

Translation: You know, you guys haven’t changed a bit since we left. All those people joining together for a moment of unity, right where we landed back in 1951 of y0ur Earth years, and the biggest news of the event is that Beyonce lip synced. All societies on this end of the galaxy are amazed you still haven’t destroyed your planet.