Wednesday, June 13, 2012

Many Disagree

...but I cannot help thinking this country is being overrun with a misguided neo-Bolshevik mentality. It is so stunning at times that I can hardly articulate what I see as the error of it all.

From unemployed unionizing and asking questions like, "Where is my job, Mr. President?", to officials in NYC taking it upon themselves to regulate the free will purchase of popcorn and beverages containing sugar, to hundreds of issues which involve "the public sector" controlling or regulating things beyond what their authority should be in a free world.

A union of unemployed implies that the state is the default employer. Frustration I get. Statists, I do not get. They don't realize that what is seen as corrupt corporatism mostly exists because we've allowed government to have such power. The companies not in bed with the government are far less likely to be corrupt.

Big unions are only another form of the same thing and all the big ones are heavily enmeshed with the state. Sad, but they are not truly the friend of those they allegedly represent. Not in the long run. Or even the short run in my view.

That's it. Dear America, that Bolshevik routine does not bring happiness. It sucks.

Meaning of Life

I heard on the street that people have pondered the meaning of life for eons. My conclusion is that the meaning of life is life. It just is. So, the point of life is simply to live it.

People like me need to have a little definition to the thing because we are easily sidetracked by the various pressures society of others brings, amplified by our own minds. I can make a huge thing out of nothing, eventually concluding that one good option is to dive off the north rim of the Grand Canyon, without even an umbrella to break the fall. I'm pretty sure that is not the best way to think.

How to live is probably the better question, rather than asking what does it mean to live and all that. Asking for the meaning of life is like looking for hidden meaning in gravity or an apple. This is where what is is comes into play. It is, and that is all to say about it.

Now, there has also been discussion regarding whether what we experience is all illusion, it is only a dream, blablabla. Dream or not, the condition is what we have to work with, and if a deer hits your car, it will wipe out your fender. Whether it is really a dream deer and a dream fender, or not, the result is the same. You are in this dream and your car needs fixing when that crazy animal attacks. Maybe it is a dream that you are thirsty, but if you don't drink some water, sooner or later you are going to be dream dead.

But, on the lighter side, believing that life's meaning is intrinsic unto itself, then you are free to simply live it, and possibly take out some of the guilt for not being a doctor of physics, or for not having lots of kids, or for just being. Whittling down the view of being somehow makes me feel a little easier, and reminds me that I have choices. I can alter my path by applying simple laws of physics and intuitive knowledge; like the trash goes away if I put it in something and take it away.

Now the big internal debate is whether to hock the farm for an inflatable Hobie kayak, with the mirage drive, and maybe even the sail option. Or not. Inflatable is the choice because it can be compacted into a manageable pack that stores inside the car or cabin, rather than on top of the car or out in the yard. It is the best plan for the vagabond. I also think it probably has advantages in rougher water, although some speed may be sacrificed. The mirage drive lets you power it with your legs, and I know from experience that it works well and you can go fast. Seems stupid until you check it out for yourself.

You can also paddle like the traditional kayak, and easily pull the mirage drive system out. This is the way to do it in water only a few inches deep, for sure.

Hobie wouldn't promote that system if it was hokie. Hobie is synonymous with cool. That's why they chose to use the B in their name and not the K.

So, save the trip to the Himalayas looking for the guru meditating on a mountain peak. He'll tell you what I just did. The meaning of life is life.

A philosophy/logic professor once told us a story about someone seeking that answer.

The story is drawn out, but after going to one aesthetic and guru after another, the guy seeking the answer was directed to a guru high on a mountain. It was one of those treacherous journeys to get there. Finally he arrives and the old guru's answer to the question is, "What does a seven pound overcoat weigh?" The guy is perplexed, "But what is the meaning of life?"

Again the mystic replies, "What does a seven pound overcoat weigh?"

I think the point is that the answer is self evident in the question. Perhaps meaning only exists if life exists. And everything is part of life, and alive in one way or another. There is more empty space between known bits of energy and matter than there is anything else. Maybe it isn't as empty as they think. More to life than meets the eye. And sometimes less.

An inflatable 12' Hobie kayak weighs 61.5 pounds.

I thought Hugo Was Always a Hit

It must be untrue that any mention of Hugo Chavez brings a multitude of ideas, comments and passions. You mean to tell me that you don't stay awake nights wondering if he'll be re-elected? Or may die in a Cuban hospital before summer is over?

I'm shocked.

Speaking of shocked, as I was leaving practice, up the mountain at K and L's house, I started down the steep, narrow winding road back home, and noticed some movement by my windshield wipers. Holy smoke, that's a large mouse!!

So, I fumbled for the wiper switch and flung that sucker off into the dark, I think. It was great. That rodent's shock could be seen and felt. Then I see one on the middle of the hood.

You can't go too fast on that road, but I was on a very steep grade and nearing the bottom. I sped up a bit, then slammed on the brakes. The creepy thing couldn't keep its footing and went sliding off the front of the car. I immediately gunned it so it couldn't climb back up.

Since it was dark there was no way I could look in the rear view mirror to see if he was in the road cursing me or gesturing rudely. With luck, there will be no more. I'm not sure where they came from. I know Cliff the guitar player has mouse in car issues. It is a running battel, but he lives in a more wooded area of this neighborhood, and things are more conducive to that problem at his place than at mine. I parked by a pile of wood chips and brush cuttings.

I still don't get what was happening. It was like they dropped there from a drone or outer space.

It was fun to watch that mouse being flung the wipers and the other one go sliding off the hood. I don't think it was the same one, but it is possible the wiper ride did not throw the stupid animal as far as it appeared it would. I could only see him being flung toward the top of the wiper arc.

Bears, mice and rats take far too much advantage of humans inability to hold these critters to even a minimum level of civility and respect for private property. I think they should all be taught a lesson.

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Ballistic Mountain, CA, United States
Like spring on a summer's day


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