streaming consciousness…

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  hardie karges 3:23 pm on July 7, 2009 Permalink | Reply  

  I should have said all that. I should’ve said that life is suffering and death is returning; 

  the world is illusion and your thoughts just confusion. I should’ve said that democracy is the worst of the good and the best of the bad, and you only love what you’ve never really had. I should’ve said to love your neighbor as yourself, and leave your heart up on the shelf. Be sure to turn the other cheek, and leave some spare change for the meek. I should’ve said that the sun was at the center and that the earth was not, that the earth was round and that stars were hot. I should have said ‘I think, therefore I am’, and it’s the clothes that make the man. I should’ve said that all objects fall in a vacuum at the same speed, but you’d be hard pressed to know that you weren’t actually accelerating instead. I should have said that species evolve and nature selects. I should’ve said that light, magnetism, and electricity were just different aspects of the same underlying force. I should’ve said that the more you know about the position of a particle in an atom, the less you know about its velocity, not that you’ll ever really know either, nor that it’s really in any specific place to even really know. I should have said that it ain’t over till it’s over, and that’s usually about the time the fat lady sings. I should’ve said that the smallest units of matter were actually multi-flavored quarks for Muster Mark, not the particles themselves, Hell-bent on destruction at the slightest crack in their armor or the slightest disruption in their traditional way of life. I should’ve said that light comes in discrete units, and that maybe love does, too. Hey, wait! I did say that. All the rest has already been said, for better or worse, after much thought and action. There’s no reason to wish I could say other people’s words or do other people’s work. All I know is what I can see in my own viewfinder. The harder I look, the fuzzier it gets. That’s the human uncertainty principle. Relax and enjoy the ride.

   

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  hardie karges 10:49 am on July 6, 2009 Permalink | Reply  

  I’ve spent time with women behind bars, 

  prisons of relativity, inertial frames of reference, cell doors that swing both ways, impossible to know who’s free and who’s locked up, the men or the women. Like American football or Aztec ‘flowery’ wars staged only for the harvest of hearts, these showcase prisons are decorated with flowers and blinking lights, fields tilled till the till is fully filled and it’s time to call it a night. The fields are of oil and the bars line the streets where soldiers guard banks. The cells are birdcages, women singing for their seed and relieving men’s stress. In a reversal of Nature, the women sport the brilliant plumage to attract the opposite sex, and that they do. Culture compensates for Nature’s brilliant mistake. Islam would like to change all that, putting humans back in their place, putting women under the veil and the men behind bars. It’s all a matter of taste and negative space. All the time that I was talking to them and looking at them, I was really talking to myself and looking at myself, reflections of reflections in parallel mirrors. For the price of a drink, you can talk to a real live girl. For the price of a shrink, you can talk all night.
   
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  hardie karges 8:20 am on July 5, 2009 Permalink | Reply  

  Many people want to know at what age you first had sex, 

  apparently taking great pride in having had sex the first time at an early age, as if that were a badge of honor or something. For others, the first contemplation of suicide was the rite of passage. My life started the night I looked up at the night sky and asked, “How far does it go?” “Infinity,” was the answer. “Then what comes next?” I remember that moment distinctly; it was good. Infinity is better than sex. Infinity is better than almost everything else. Infinity defines our dimension; infinity defines our existence. We’re the infinity animals, contemplating universes and imagining universals as fast and as hard as we can before it all goes away with the same puff of smoke in which it came. We’re the divinity animals, inventing gods and worshiping them with all our might and most of our maybes totally awash in the inner light of self-consciousness.

   
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  hardie karges 1:15 pm on July 3, 2009 Permalink | Reply  

  Ground yourself! 

  So implore New Age practitioners seeking to keep the individual human being in some state of harmony with the Heavens of astrology. Metaphorically it’s the equivalent of the concept of ‘staying centered’, the metaphors typically coming from meditation, yoga, and other forms of self-development. ‘Grounding’ of course also has electrical metaphorical content, which becomes very apparent to those in cold dry climates who reach for a brass doorknob after shuffling across the carpet. Ungrounded electrical systems are inherently unstable, painfully clear to many people in third world countries without them, positive and negative charges running wild. I can feel the current running through my legs from my laptop computer here in Thailand. It feels like ants crawling on me, Mississippi red ants. You feel a current, albeit a weak one, when you grab your TV set’s rabbit-ear-antennas to adjust them. Lightning is the best example, potentiality looking for a place to occur, an accident waiting to happen. But don’t use the metaphor of femininity, a passive field luring the wrathful sky to its battleground. If you notice really carefully, in slow motion, lightning breaks toward the ground in stages. Before it reaches the ground, a spark will actually leap up to meet it, like a woman extending her cheek to receive a kiss. Sometimes the ground will actually initiate the strike. In any case there is a return of current from ground to cloud that is faster and fiercer than the original.

   
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  hardie karges 4:02 pm on July 2, 2009 Permalink | Reply  

  I can’t imagine not having a word processor, 

  having to bang on a manual typewriter with full force of my muscled fingers, keys decisively stamping symbols on paper, putting a Western touch on some Chinaman’s wildest dream of a millennium ago. Or even having gone electric, that ball with a mind of its own bouncing off a hard rubber cartridge like a madman trying to free himself from his lush padded cell. The nice thing about a word processor is that you don’t have to commit to format until the last minute. Words can just be words, running wild with imagination and playing with each other with no thought of the future. That’s until He, El, the guy upstairs, decides they’ll graduate high school, then go to college and study to be poems, articles, screenplays, or novels, according to their own individual strengths or in response to market forces, as the case may be. The only sad thing is that I, who used to be so wild and free and a man of the woods and a man of the world am now reduced to sucking juice from public utilities like some child of the matrix, some womb gone wrong. The old manual Olivetti, smelling slightly of lightly oiled steel, still sits in its case in a room in a corner of the universe, awaiting a call-up of the reserves, proudly defiant.

   
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  hardie karges 8:34 am on June 30, 2009 Permalink | Reply  

  I just want to be normal. 

  I just want the white picket fences surrounding me, a blue sky overhead, green grass and black dirt underneath, and an old yellow dog leading the way. I just want the straight and narrow, a small circle of friends, three squares a day, and an almighty pentagon to watch over me. I need no golden triangles nor elaborate hexes, no jinxes nor jousts nor old hags to vex me. I just need some peace, love, and understanding. The eagle flies on Friday; the halcyon lands on Sunday. Some day soon everything will be calm and peaceful, fruit for the picking and firewood for the taking. I could pass on the free ‘Bubble-Up’, but some rainbow stew sounds good.

   
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  hardie karges 9:59 pm on June 29, 2009 Permalink | Reply  

  Screaming flesh haunts my world, 

  simply because it’s there, acknowledging an existence beyond itself as superior to its own, knocking at the door that leads to another dimension. Cutting edges, metal on flesh, attempt to mitigate the costs of consciousness, lessen the burden of personality, delete all memory by re-booting, gamble that dying from one world is being born into another. I just try to stay one step ahead of the forces that would consume me, my self. Self is the main cause of selfishness, the main obstacle to love. Lose your self and find the path; the path of righteousness leads toward the light.

   
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  hardie karges 8:45 am on June 28, 2009 Permalink | Reply  

  The succubus comes by night, taking what she needs 

  and leaving the rest for another day or another lay, the witch wearing a wig and wielding a whip, sucking me into submission with ignorance and favors, sixty-nine flavors, and magic spells to boot. She can spell the clothes off of a man, though she can’t even spell her own name, because she has none. She comes in darkness, uses me for her own selfish ends, and then leaves by the first light of dawn. What do nocturnal emissions say about sex? Does the discharge create the pictures that ultimately justify its existence or do the pictures create the discharge? Is it an electrical discharge or purely hydraulic? Was that really my next-door neighbor baring her soul to me despite a thousand previous unanswered entreaties, or was it the ghost of Christmas past coming in to haunt me uninvited?

   
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  hardie karges 4:29 pm on June 27, 2009 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 11:07 pm on June 25, 2009 Permalink | Reply  

  Four walls of plaster, four walls of flesh, 

  framework of wood, framework of bone; all the great battles of history were fought right here within these walls. These are the wars to end all wars, fights to the finish, struggles unto death all laid bare to the mind’s eye, the mind’s penis a hapless foot-soldier supplying raw material to the front lines of this war between competing moral equivalent proxies—life, death, fear, hope. The battle of the bulge never really ends. World War III never really begins, Trojan horses promenading in all directions.