“Terra Incognita” is the phrase old mapmakers used to suggest the world outside the borders of the known world. They would mark these areas with dragons and other monsters. That we can now map the entire globe and present it on a Mercator projection does not lessen mystery, which increases, not least of all inside us. Love is water, it’s been said before, it flows around things, shapes rock and ore, and seeks out new places before we are aware of them. It grows everything. It varies its forms. It shows up as sex only in a small part which perhaps we give too much emphasis. The amount of love outside the map of our consciousness may be beyond our comprehension. It dissolves dragons.
Sitting in the waiting room while my car gets inspected, compulsory TV going. There is a docudrama about catching cheaters with detectives followed by an ad for a new erectile dysfunction drug. I wonder if people actually pay attention to this bizarre montage or it just seeps down into their unconscious and makes them nuts?
“Damn braces: bless relaxes.” William Blake, the Marriage of Heaven and Hell.
Whopped that blood-gorged horsefly,
sent him into his next life as a politician.
He’s experienced with mounds of shit,
and drinking the people’s blood bit by bit.
All journeys have secret destinations of which the traveler is unaware.
An animal’s eyes have the power to speak a great language. (Martin Buber)
Dear Friends: Paul Rickenbach Moshimer, General Manager of Blue Star Equiculture and partner of Pamela Rickenbach Moshimer, died early this morning at the farm. We are stunned and devastated by his loss. He leaves a huge absence that will be impossible to fill. We are reaching out to friends and volunteers to help us keep the farm running and the horses fed.
Paul gave by his very presence. He was a former Fire Chief and Paramedic and the unconditional helping spirit of those professions carried over into the care of thirty-two horses and the many humans who make up a working farm. He was one of the most intelligent, creative and resourceful men I ever knew.
And he was my best friend, a great soul. We are at this time unable to elaborate further but will be in touch regarding services to follow.
Paul leaves two daughters, Elsie and Rose and his beloved wife, Pamela. He also leaves a lot of friends in the various tribes that have gravitated to the Blue Star Equiculture Farm. Paul, you are irreplaceable.
Uncle Duggo’s Futurist Archive, Entry 366:
And it came to pass that by the middle of the Twenty-First Century the conservative population had shrunk to a small tribe that no one listened to. They hoarded their wealth and moved into compounds strung with razor wire and guarded by private security firms where they continued to worship the icons of hatred. They inbred with one another for fear of being contaminated by the outside world and in two generations began to produce genetic variants — extra fingers and toes, drifting eyes, mental illness– not unlike the old royal families of Europe.
American foreign policy: a centipede attacking a tar baby, one leg at a time.
For a Month
We had each other, we laughed a lot
knowing it was not to last.
It was spring,
before you went east
to marry your long time sweetheart.
I’ll not forget
you brought me breakfast in bed.
Carried your not-small breasts on a silver tray.
Stood in the window, watched
lightning etch my skeleton
in the glass.
Grateful for the velvety breeze after.
How I would like
to share this with you naked,
bless this incarnation of flesh.
While I still have it.
No I ain’t got the big house, the two cars, the 50K living room furniture, the house on the cape, the tenured position, the ulcers, the loathing, the brain-death, the burn out, the Rollex, the heart-hide, the golf, the mistress and the missus, the lawyers.
Time to take a break and do absolutely nothing but eat, photograph, and hang out with horses.