big pile of dirt

moving around a pile of dirt into ridges, leaving the trenches the dirt came from next to the ridges…well, even to the most ardent archaeological student, the said formations are about as exciting as watching toast burn.

…and this is an important cultural site for a pre-Columbian people group? Random ridges some people imagine are shaped like a figure or ring or….I mean, you have to really, really stretch the imagination to believe this dirt pile was an important site to any civilization.

but that is what the people at Newark Earthworks would tell you.

sure it is one of the largest piles of organized dirt in America…but really, who cares? any group of people can put together an endless stream of ridges…just for fun, or out of boredom. remember, they did not have Netflix, selfie sticks, or smartphones to mindlessly tap…they had to find something to do, after a hard  day of sitting around making sharp pieces of flint.

I can imagine….

“Hey, let’s build a bunch of wiggly ridges over the next ten years. everybody who comes through here will leave us alone because they will think we are super-geniuses.”

and if you throw in some chipped pottery, some jewelry that looks like it was made in China… what have you got? a civilization? sadly, theories of civilizations have stood the test of time on such fodder.

meanwhile, there are other archaeologists who have found piles of treasure in old garbage dumps, in caves, and tombs throughout the world. the question for my friends in Newark is this- how much material does one need in order to constitute a sizable enough number of artifacts to say we have the “authority” to call  anything a historic site of this people and that culture during this time?

it is a question for the layman, enthusiast, and professional all to ask. especially when the people of the future are presented with random ridges of dirt.  

 

 

Thank God for wordpress

If you live in America, you know that the basic freedoms we had thirty years ago have so eroded that we now live in a land where…many street corners have surveillance cameras, people are paid to spy on you, your communications- even this post- may be monitored or recorded, saying anything about the president- even facetiously- may cost you your job, what you say in private may be used against you, ethnic and religious persecution is alive and well in various subtle and not-so-subtle forms, and your rights may be upheld within the law but the law has been so corrupted that it is not reliable.

welcome to america, 2014.

i am not a proponent of Alex Jones, conspiracy theories, tea party politics, or any of the sort. i am a man who desires to write from the heart. and there is one place i know- or believe- i can still do that…wordpress.

Thank God for wordpress.

I want to take this time to thank the people who have enabled us to freely express what we have on our hearts, without reprisals. While there are many blogs on here that i do not care for, there are many more worth reading.

Slan go foill….so long for now.  

 

walking across america

Aubrey Benmark started out from Brooklyn, New York, on Saint Patrick’s Day, and crossed the bridge over Blennerhassett Island into Ohio today. I saw her this morning, but did not know it- she crossed the highway with some kind of thing that looked like a baby carriage. When you’re going 60 mph, it is difficult to focus on a far moving object on the other side of the road. 

Today I traveled the four lane to a popular hiking spot in Ohio…

where i took photographs and watched other people taking pictures of each other with a wild natural wonder in the background. After they all left the area, I snapped this shot of Ash Cave from the trail leading back to the parking lot.

 

I also saw strong evidence of Ohio’s growing preoccupation with converting rational interchanges into troublesome roundabouts… all in a state known for erratic driving habits. While your Ohio farmer is driving 25 mph down the unnecessarily narrow road, weaving into the other lane…another vehicle traveling in the opposite direction will top out at over 80 mph on curves in the shape of a twisted colon…

 

…which makes being obsessed with roundabout creation….even double roundabouts…in a state where 99% of the population have never seen one…a very dangerous proposition.

     Heading back toward “Almost Heaven,” it was nearly mid-afternoon when I drove past a figure walking west on the berm of US 50. I pulled off at the next exit and turned around, made a turn and stopped a hundred feet in front of the now stopped cart. When I slipped out of my seat, I discovered that the walker was a woman and her cart declared that she was “walking across america.”

      She said she was walking across America to prove that there was still kindness in the world…

      After giving her some supplies, she told me that she was relying on the kindness of strangers.

      When I asked her about  West Virginia, she said that some people in Pennsylvania were telling her she would be in danger in West Virginia. She learned first hand that many in the media degrade the friendliest state I have ever been in, which is quite sad. She told stories about how people in the state had been so generous, one even letting her stay in a luxury guest house for free.

      She is heading through southern Ohio for Louisville…so if you see her, do as a disciple of Jesus would do and offer her what you have, take her to lunch or dinner, or give her a spot in your home or cabin out back. I ask all disciples of Jesus within southern ohio and northern Kentucky to be on the lookout and be ready to bless her.

 

    

 

when the guns fell silent

the older i get, the more precious peace becomes. it is not just simply a need for uncluttered living, or less materialism, it is a deep desire to live with inner peace, the strength of the very spirit of God.

it is not simply something arrived at, it comes more like the fog as it settles in- suddenly it is there, suddenly it surrounds the heart and envelopes the body. it is mystical in that sense, not a mystery of eastern or new age reckoning, but a mystery as ancient as the stones beneath the surface of the sphere. the peace of God calls, and no weapon can withstand it.

i was reminded of this, standing among the remnants of an American Civil war site, pondering the cannon pointed westward, a glaring historical error. it is no different with the peace of God- so many have misunderstood the effects, the existence, and the very power of the Presence.

but as i lay my head to rest tonight, i know that Presence, that peace. i know that in that peace, no weapon- no distraction- can separate me from that peace, if i remain in that Presence.

Amarillo Tuesday

In a new twist to substantially increase Post-Thanksgiving Celebration Shopping Events, a group of the 30 largest US retailers have announced the kick-off of “Amarillo Tuesday.” The event, which will coordinate retailer savings with participation in Mexican restaurant promotions, will go national at 4:30PM EST Tuesday.

Richard Los Lobos, a spokesman for the group “The Society for the Promotion of Mexican-American Cuisine” stated that many chain and local restaurants will participate.

“Every retailer displaying an Amarillo Tag Sale Event (or a picture of a Large Yellow Tortilla Chip) will offer a paired dining experience with a locally-owned or chain restaurant selling Mexican food. Shoppers will need only follow posted rules in each store,” Los Lobos said.

When asked if he thought there might be confusion with the retailer’s rules, Los Lobos stated, “We don’t anticipate that. After all, these are Americans, and by and large, they’re a pretty smart group- most of the time.”

But not everyone is so confident. Dale Weinbrenner, a spokesman for The Walnut Grove Retail Association in Walnut Grove, believes US shoppers will be utterly confused.

“In my neck of the woods nobody knows what the (heck) Ammarilla is. If they go shopping, huntin’ for it, who is gonna know where to put it so you can find it? It ain’t like going to ask for a Big Mac or somethin’,” Weinbrenner admitted.

Weinbrenner isn’t alone. A number of retailers in neighboring cities have dropped out of the event, claiming it is racist.

“This here is America. If ya can’t put it in English, ya ought to be deported,” Allie Huck, owner of Nascar Collectibles, argues. “It ain’t right to have these Mexicans comin’ up here and makin’ us eat their food.”

Huck believes retailers should extend the special shopping deals to Saturday, the day after Black Friday, and offer “American” products that day at a 10% discount to all legal citizens. She would call it the “White Trash Weekend Sale.”

“Just bring your birth certificate in, and we’ll give you a 10% discount on anything in the store- even the Richard Petty Collectible Dog Dishes.” Huck announced. “I’ll be doin’ that every Saturday after Thanksgiving for any God-gifted American.”

And she is not alone. Down the road from her, Bob Barnes, manager of the “Get and Gas.” states he will offer a 15% discount to all shoppers wearing a Duck Dynasty Shirt. “It’s American, that’s it,” he stated, when asked why he was joining Huck next year in the White Trash Weekend Spectacular. “Gotta make money some way.”

Barnes, along with Huck and their supporters are already planning an advertising blitz for the event, slated for “Thanksgiving Saturday” next year in the USA. They have enlisted ZZ Top to do a “White Trash Weekend” advertising campaign in 27 cities and towns across the South and Midwest.

“I’m sure we’ll take down that Tuesday thing,” Barnes said, when asked about the new marketing campaigns. “We can’t afford any more changes to the gene pool.”

But while the Amarillio Tuesday event offers a chance for extending cultural awareness, Barnes and Huck, want no part of it. Theirs is an America lost in a relative time warp, perpetuated by shallow television shows and misconceptions about the cultural makeup of the country.  Unfortunately, they are not alone.

They mirror the divisions among an increasingly weary public, one that a recent poll highlighted as being “untrusting” of not just neighbors, but everyone not like them. This is a dangerous time for the USA; if this trend continues, the very social fabric of the nation is at stake. It is as if the once great economic and military power is collapsing in on itself, in fear and mistrust. In this climate, corruption has increased, and class division has substantially widened.

My purpose in writing this “hypothetical news article” is to point out the condition of the country, reflecting on it through the very American “Black Friday/Post Thanksgiving Sales” phenomenon. I welcome your comments, but only if  you have read the entire piece, and understand the biting humor.

Rejecting the Refrigerator

Is anyone else tired of chicken? Not just any chicken, the plain chicken you get in the grocery store that you have to take home and put in the refrigerator. That chicken. That kind of food.

I’m tired of tasteless. My taste buds aren’t 95 years old. I’m not gumming my food. And my cultural inclination- when eating meat- is to embellish it, with or without sauce…

Or seven herbs and spices, the kind the colonel makes. The colonel used to make. The colonel used to have his workers make. After all, he’s dead, and so is his chicken…tortured or untortured…thrown against the wall or not thrown against the wall…Kentucky Fried Chicken, the eighth wonder of the world.

Maybe, in my longing for small, controlled plastic sealed mashed potatoes and gravy, I feel a certain affinity with the rest of the USA. That would make sense, as this Irish boy does not feel at home- some of the time- in this polyglot nation of fast food giants,

Which would make you cook at home most of the time. Which I do. Which is why I am eating fresh ingredients from my refrigerator’s vast domain. Which is why I am getting tired of eating yummy things that are healthy for me. Which is why I drool passing by the aroma of freshly frying chicken. Which is another reason for writing in phrases, breaking all the rules of standard English in one paragraph.

Perhaps, though, there is some truth to those fringe elements, those who have made documentaries of horrific tales of chemical additive addiction. And not just those who  religiously read The Weekly world News, but a vast contingent of average, law-abiding citizens.

People like this man….

 

who claim the colonel adds an addictive chemical making you “cleave fortnightly.” (Mike Myers, So I Married An Axe Murderer)

Nevertheless, I am determined…yes, I have pledged…to drive forty-five minutes to partake in the juicy-seared-goodness of the colonel’s chicken- regardless of that poor chicken’s previous treatment in captivity before succombing to the plucker,  the freezer, and trip to the restaurant.

I shall be away for awhile, enjoying my plastic tub of mashed potatoes and gravy, but I shall return soon to eat dinner at home, with or without sauce.

 

A Peaceful Place

After reading a recent post online, I thought of this place…one of the most peaceful places I can remember…well, with the caveat that it was also in bear country, near wild huckleberries, a treat for bears.

But I did not encounter bears, I encountered this. I can imagine a region in Heaven being like this- a place so magnificent, so relaxing, you have to sit down and drink it all in…which is what I did here.

Meeting my favorite artist

I didn’t have it on my “bucket list.” I had no idea he would be there. But when I walked into the art gallery this evening, my favorite living artist stood near my favorite painting in the whole wide world. What are the chances of that?

He wanted to talk baseball, I wanted to talk artistic process.

“Who are the Pirates playing? Are they playing tonight? What happened to them last night?”

And splattered out in all their glory, the most amazing paintings in the world stood before me. I longed to touch the mudding-like texture, the thick glaze of rhododendron and laurel leaf, layered pink petals smashed onto the canvas, the passion of the thin and the thick, the trowel-icing slashes.

Then he told me his story- how he experimented with the trowel and opened a door to a career as an innovative contemporary painter. His journey reminded me of the point when, after four years of not writing any fiction, I discovered my own particular experimental fiction style. But he is a professional making a living from it, while I  struggle to pay the bills, with most pay from “my other skills.”

Perhaps one day, this kindred spirit and I shall both look back and see where each discovery took us. For now, I will enjoy his paintings, and pray someday my own experimental works will see publication and an audience will be touched by the passion of that word imagery.

I am blessed to have been in the presence of greatness, and to remember that the spark within my own works of poetic fiction may touch the heart of someone someday. For as the faithful, we are all called. What gift we are given comes from God. I cannot, I will not, withhold the words or images of that gift any more.

Go to http://www.coopergallery.com/LynnBoggess/LynnBoggessPage.asp for more information, including some photos of the paintings at Cooper Gallery.

I’ll take 100 bayonets, a refrigerator, and an oscillating fan

What can you do with a 100,000 dollar helicopter missing a wing? Or, a Humvee with no engine block? How about 100 Reagan-era bayonets? Apparently, you can use them in a small town police force, even if the only dangerous criminal in town is a seasonal visitor. That’s the beauty of the US Department of Defense downsizing program, an operation that gives millions of dollars of equipment to police departments all across the USA.

Unfortunately, according to recent press investigations, there are very few inspections or audits of police departments getting the materials. Some states have inspectors/auditors in place, however, whole states have had no individual to track these giveaways.

As one who has done farm and forestry inspections to check for adherence to a state government program’s specifications, it is amazing to me that we physically inspected properties to determine the details of farm use per acre while this giveaway program has no reliable record of inspections, nor a posse of inspectors to verify that Sheriff Sam isn’t getting nuclear warheads, hundreds of refrigerators, or thousands of boxes of government-issued gym shorts.

I’m not saying I should be the one inspecting these police departments. That should be someone the government hires who understands the regulations and who has a working knowledge of what police departments actually need. It would also help departments receive valuable materials to fight crime rather than receive more oscillating fans than a WalMart in Texas.

Or, the US government could ship all non-weapons materials to towns  and cities where the government could do what everyone else (in the non-coastal areas) does- have a giant yard sale.

What do you think?

all the friends in the world…

I gotta admit, I don’t like some people. I love them. They’re the kind of people you want to make laugh- the kind of people who smile like when the sun comes out, the kind of people who just brighten up every day they live. I wish I could be like that, but my life has been too much of a saga for that every day Smile-A-Thon kind of thing.

I can’t forget some of those radiant smile-puppies. I’ve lost all of their whereabouts, every single one of them. Hopefully, the fire of their smiles has not dimmed over the ages, as the evil of the world has assailed them.

Perhaps somewhere they are hiding among  the smiling faces on a virtual friends list, blessing facebook with positive happy thoughts. If you see one of them, let them know you love their smile. After all, not everyone on facebook is smiling- some pictures were taken during constipation, bloating, and the menstrual cycle (not unlike a unicycle, which is also a pain).

But the best pictures are when happiness and joy exude from the face of the facebook photo. It is as if Mama Boucher (see The Waterboy) was right and the”magic rays of sunshine that come down when you’re feelin’ blue” have scattered across the screen, bringing a smile to even the grumpiest face.

And those folks become irresistible. Downright friend material. So what if you don’t actually know them? They know Billy, who happens to live in your town, and Billy knows your cousin’s boyfriend’s mother’s cousin, who happens to have a beautiful smile, and that’s good enough, isn’t it?

It seems like that must be one of the processes of “friend-finding” done by  thousand-plus friendophiles. I’m amazed that I’ve managed to gather thirty some friends on facebook, while Stewart Nobody boasts thousands. So, after some shallow thinking, I have reflected on some other possible friending processes employed by these friendophiles:

1. “Hey, I know that country, I’ll friend them.”

2. “That was my brother’s cat’s name, therefore, he has to be a great guy.”

3. “His profile says he lives in my town. I must know him. I think.”

4. “She is really hot, therefore, I will friend her. (or vice versa)”

5. “That photo reminds me of my dog Ralph, who died in a car accident when my dad backed up in the driveway…”

6. “I swear he looks like Jay Leno. I’ll friend him. He could be Jay Leno, even if he calls himself Hans Van Druschek.”

7. “Her name is Shelly. I think I’ve heard that name before…somewhere.”

8. “She’s wearing my favorite burka.”

9. “If I looked like that, I wouldn’t have any friends. I’ll just send this friend request to make him feel better.”

10. “I’ll friend anyone once.”

makes you wonder about these people…who do they really know?