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Autumn
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Miscellany
- Hits: 2000
Today it is Autumn. The wind is blowing, the sky a slate grey, colored leaves blowing in waves down the street.
I've enquired about my cheques, any of them would do nicely, I have the children this weekend and it would be nice if they were fed. If I was fed, it's been an entire week living on pasta with butter and rice fried in oil. But there's been no reply. And so maybe I should simply ignore my email for a day or two and see what happens.
There was the call from the conspiracy group, they were meeting up for coffee, but I couldn't go, I had, I have, other imagined appointments.
It's autumn and the leaves rustle down the streets, fill the lawn, the wind bends the trees. The appointments, they won't show, they were imagined.
And so I work on projects, pass the time "finishing things up", websites forever in development have now the possibility of completion, other things as well draw to their final close and I finish them up, work madly upon them and pause only for a cigarette and reflection.
I'm almost out of cigarettes, must ration them, the absence of reply on question of the cheque makes me think that it could be a while....
Change is in the air.
of Wild Bill Hickock
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Dreams
- Hits: 1828
I'm somewhere traveling through United States, small towns, ghost towns of the American West. I'm at a party with some strangers, one of them is passing around a joint. It's Christmas and the stagecoach comes through - it's not cold, hot desert, but me and some older gentleman take the stagecoach through town - it's being driven by an coolie, who knows my companion and jokes with him - my companion wants him to take a new route through the town, but as there's only one road through town it's kinda tough....
We end up at a Saloon....
The next morning Wild Bill Hickock is there, I'm in this town or another, some archeologists have found the remains of the Eastend boys, I know them, they were a gang that rode down from Moose Jaw in the twenties and disappeared. They disappeared 'cause the Apaches got 'em, and we walk down from the hotel to a star shaped trench cut in the desert, the Apaches had lashed the boys to logs, suspended them in the trenches and then covered them over with dirt. Buried them alive. Some tribal elders show up, they look old, so old the skin has crawled back from their teeth and jaws leaving just the bone and their eyes roll freely in skeletal sockets, they look and nod, "They found 'em" they say...
Now I'm talking with Wild Bill and asking him if he's dead and all, I was pretty sure he was but he assures me he's not, there are these old prospectors showing me the opals and gems they've found in the desert, there are museums everywhere and he has along some famous Indian sidekick I should know, I do know in the dream, but I can't recall his name now. And they're showing me all sorts of stuff, and asking me all sorts of stuff, and we're getting along famously. It's like we're old friends. We trade some things. Then they do the show, it involves Wild Bill spraying a hose around in front of people, he's holding the end by the water barrel, and eventually a bullet makes it's way through and accomplishes some miracle of marksmanship. We're amazed and he's warning us all to stay back so we do, but one of the bullets goes astray and hits the fireworks-for-sale hut, it sputters, then goes up in blazes, everyone "ooohs" and "aaaahs" but then at once realize it's just another part of the show and break into applause...
Jealousy
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Ideas & Questions
- Hits: 1587
Jealousy. I've wondered about this, wondered where it came from. I've had girlfriends who'd been jealous, some more than others. And I'd been jealous myself. And of what value was it?
And I had an Epiphany.
Jealousy is the imagining of what we would do were we in our partners position.
It's the projection of our worst selves upon others. And, if we've made a bad match, maybe we're right.
And then there is lack of jealousy. In which we project our best selves upon others, imagine that they would do what we would in similar circumstance, by "we" I mean the best of "we", the "we" possessed of those noblest of qualities: love, loyalty, fidelity and honor.
And if we've again made a bad match, maybe we're wrong.
But I understand it now.
To boil it down, make it quotable, try this: "jealousy is the presumption that others are doing as we would do in their position."
Birds on a wire
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Miscellany
- Hits: 2191
There's something zen about this. Not just the music (the Asian Influences are obvious), but in the recognition of the sublime in the ordinary...
Birds on the Wires from Jarbas Agnelli on Vimeo.
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