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  hardie karges 9:52 am on December 26, 2012 Permalink | Reply
  Tags: Christmas ( 11 ), depression ( 6 ), Hardie Karges ( 283 ), holidays, hypertravel ( 12 ), New Year ( 5 )   

  Tis’ the Season… to Avoid Depression: FA LA LA 2U2 

  I have my own Christmas traditions, developed over decades and continents, usually wherever I happen to find myself on the blessed day, either for lack of imagination or some rogue inspiration, none of which places can usually be considered ‘home,’ as the concept seems to have largely eluded me over the years.  If stuck at ‘home,’ I find that the day can even make me extremely depressed if I don’t deal with it pro-actively, because even though I’m extremely put off by the commercialism of Christmas, that doesn’t mean that I can entirely dismiss it.  I know; I’ve tried. (More …)

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  hardie karges 5:20 pm on December 9, 2012 Permalink | Reply  

  The Old Armenian Lady 

  They carried away the old Armenian lady last night.  It’s not the first time and I hope it’s not the last, but you never know.  I hadn’t seen much of her lately, anyway, not since the weather turned cold, or at least as cold as it normally gets in a heat-island affected LA in a not-so-cold-in-the-first-place southern California.  When we first moved in to the stereotypical SoCal apartment complex a couple months ago, there she’d sit all day, in one of those ugly stackable plastic white chairs parked right by the door to her downstairs apartment, with those tubes up her nose that I suppose go to oxygen or something, hopefully something other than just a warning to the young and healthy that this is what you’ll end up like if you don’t eat your peas and carrots.  (More …)

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    hardie karges 5:21 pm on December 9, 2012 Permalink | Reply

    Reblogged this on streaming consciousness.

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  hardie karges 7:12 pm on September 8, 2011 Permalink | Reply  

  Prayer might be more than just wishful thinking. 

  The similarity between DNA and language may be more than just coincidental. Species may actually get what they need, by hook or crook, words or visions, rather than just live or die by quirks of fate or a roll of the dice. This is what we all want, what we all really believe, deep down in our hearts, whether creationists or scientists, that there is something special about us as humans and that we have some role in creating and maintaining that specialness. Though maybe hesitant to cop to it, scientists would not be searching the heavens for other Earth-like planets, much less radio frequency signals, unless they thought this particular manifestation of biology were something divinely ordained and not just coincidence. Nevertheless, our culture defines us whether our DNA does or not, and is certainly more flexible and adaptable. This probably overrides all other considerations. Somehow I just don’t think they’ll ever find a ‘rocket science’ gene. We made all that up.

   
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  hardie karges 2:52 pm on August 29, 2011 Permalink | Reply  

  SCIENCE FRICTION 

  Voices echo in my head without precedent, without antecedent, residual background radiation left over from the Big Bang, thoughts and ideas bouncing like ping pong balls in a mind too full for thinking, a brain too drunk for drinking. Quit re-normalizing equations. Maybe mass IS infinite at the speed of light. Meaningless infinities my ass; maybe more physicists should get more metafizzical. I’m pregnant with ideas, ready to give birth. Those who can’t create, consult; those who can’t shine, reflect. Radio waves are the enemy, jamming somebody else’s thoughts into my brain. TV will live your life for you if you let it. Now Internet wants to do the same or worse, creating a life of its own within the limits of conspiracy. Still I persevere. Prepare for the best; avoid the worst. Fear of success is the greatest handicap of the sensitive male. How do you score points when your best offense is a good defense? Beyond the call of the sexual wild, the call to merge with the void, beyond the sleepy call of nature two or three times a day depending on circumstances, my world is finally at peace with itself.

   
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  hardie karges 1:19 pm on August 17, 2011 Permalink | Reply  

  I recognize many of the cheap motels in Hollywood movies and music videos, 

  the cheaper the better, full of character and characters. Nobody wants to see the inside of a Westin or a Hilton, except maybe Paris. They want to see the crud in the cracks and the stains on the sheets, lives of the cheap and dirty. I know those rooms inside and out, the chewing gum under the table and the burnt spots where a cigarette butt hung on the edge of the night stand for dear life, despite the warnings not to smoke in bed. They have to tell you that, in the cheap places. In expensive hotels, it’s understood. Actually the only thing wrong with the cheap places is the people who inhabit them, all too often on a permanent basis, too self-satisfied in their grungy life-style. I never stay at the cheapest places just for that reason, though sometimes they’ve got real style. Sometimes just a few bucks more a night is enough to keep the riffraff away and provide a qualitative difference, too, though. It’s not that I don’t like poor people, but generally not the type living in cheap motels. They can be real low-breeds, regardless of how high-bred, like heroin addicts watching the pile of pubes just growing higher in the corner if left undisturbed by human hands.

   
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  hardie karges 5:19 pm on August 9, 2011 Permalink | Reply  

  Bragging rights go to the victor, 

  language rights go to the majority, all things being equal. Nothing is equal. Language follows the path of least resistance, at least theoretically. Like animals evolving smaller as the world fills with species and the competition gets fierce, so words reserve their options until the last possible moment, eschewing bound forms and forced marriages. The occupiers usually take the language of the occupied, all the better to force their hands, unless they’re also part of a local migration, which will make them the majority of the populace, or unless the local language is just too damn hard. Such is the case with Thailand, where a Farang would never be expected to speak the local language, maybe not even allowed to. This is all voluntary, of course, the tyranny of the majority, dreadful freedom. Society is united by its lowest common denominators, the greatest good for the greatest number, and the rare birds are left to flounder in brittle cages, taking solace in mirrors and nourishment from crumbs on the floor. It’s cold in here and somebody keeps shitting in the nest. Shine some light in dark corners and let some fresh air into musty corners.

   
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  hardie karges 4:35 pm on July 30, 2011 Permalink | Reply  

  We stand at the crossroads, 

  trying to flag a ride from some cowboy with shit on his boots who says he knows where he’s going, but I’m not so sure. The future is pure mathematical probability, clean and pristine, equations on a blank page. The past is a pool of blood, god-forsaken and friendless, nothing but a mother’s love, until someone came up with the brilliant idea of what the world might be like if everyone treated each other like brothers and sisters, choosing to acknowledge our commonalities more than our differences. The rest is history, extended families united by religion, safe and secure within the commonly acknowledged borders, part of something even larger beyond those borders. A devout Muslim is friend and brother to any fellow Muslim regardless of country, just as are devout Jews and Christians, particularly those of the same sects. Same-sect marriages work well where many others fail. Communism used to be the same, camaraderie across borders. This is where capitalism falls short. You just can’t get that excited about something ‘trickling-down’ to you, no matter how much better than everything else it might actually be. It’s just not inspiring. Equality, justice, peace, and abundance are inspiring.

   
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  hardie karges 6:12 pm on July 13, 2011 Permalink | Reply  

  I hate desks and all they stand for, 

  holding up the gawk-box and the scanner, the spread-sheets and ledgers, the ash trays and paperweights, the right angles and the wrong height, the calendar and the deadlines, all the anxiety and my drawers full of shit. It all just keeps piling up, stuff that I’ll never use but can’t seem to get rid of. For me a desk is a place to stack my feet so that I won’t forget them. A desk is a place to have creative sex. A desk is a monument to the ingenuity of the Western imagination, cubism transferred to the study instead of the studio, on carpets instead of canvas. It’s all part of the human dimension- memory, causality, and isometric projections on to the blank stage and the blank page. We live in three dimensions of length width and depth because that’s what we are, square pegs in a round hole. I don’t even like sitting in a chair. I’d rather lie down or stand up. If I had my way, every office in the world would have a bed and a kitchen. This is the stuff of life. Writing is like sex; you try different positions. A desk is not for writing. They’re too square. A desk is for lines and rulers, scholars and schoolers. A bed is where the action is, the alpha and omega, a laboratory for experiment.

   
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  hardie karges 7:52 am on July 5, 2011 Permalink | Reply  

  I am two people, gagged and bound, beside myself, 

  just waiting to see what my other half will do. One more and I could be a trinity, the Triple Gem, pontificating endlessly on matters of no importance. As it is, I’m reduced to endless duals with my self, a triple Gemini with the head of a bull, debating all the great issues and fighting all the important wars of history right here in my inner chamber of secrets. The president in me is an asshole, stern and overbearing, a national socialist to the core. The congress is chicken shit, scared to death of the unknown. To be “of two minds” about something is a way of life for me. Sometimes the bill never gets out of congress due to the filibustering activities of one party or another. Somehow the two houses of congress agree to disagree and we manage to wobble forward on all fours plodding our way through life.

   
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  hardie karges 5:51 pm on June 27, 2011 Permalink | Reply  

  Geminis like myself are fond of saying everything’s 50-50, 

  unsure whether it’s a curse or blessing seeing both sides of every situation. It can be either or both. I’ve modified the equation so that everything’s 51-49 to avoid a stalemate. Once my mate goes stale, then I’m out of here. Geminis can have problems making decisions. It can become a way of life, a complete metaphysical system. Everything’s uncertain, indefinite, undefined. Fortunately I’m Gemini on the Taurus cusp, so if I can ever make a decision, then I can usually run with it. On the positive side, Geminis are highly adaptable to a variety of situations. Just making a simple decision for a Gemini can be like getting a bill passed in Congress. Then you’ve got to get the money allocated. If you ever get lonely, at least you’ve always got someone to talk to.