Monday, December 26, 2005

Just My Luck (parenpatethetically speaking)


Just a letter at Christmas to catch you up on what has happened to me over the past year, with regard to our former home in hippieschoolbusRVParkSedonazona.
Did I ever tell you that Noel (John Schroder's girlfriend) told me she was in love with me the last time I was in Sedona? (She had given me hints when I had gone through there before in 2002, before she was hooked up with John.) I didn't know what to do seeing as, in late 2004, she was 5 months pregnant at the time with (supposedly) Schroder's kid.

This all happened last Nov. I had gone down to AZ after deciding to move from Golden 'cause there were too many tweakers where I lived (they even stealing the validation stickers off license plates - so everybody in the neighborhood had to slice them with a razor so that they would come off in little pieces and do the theives no good - stuff like that) and I had angered the local authorities (I had an actual price on my head - offered by the local undercover drug cops for someone to plant meth-lab equipment or precursors in my house) with my attempts to help (because of my having been, at one time or another, addicted to every drug imaginable - except heroin - myself) these pathetic sots kick their addictions, and resist illegal encroachments (because of all my street resistance experience in Berkeley after I dropped out of UC there in '71) on their 4th. Amendment Rights (warrentless searches etc.).

I was going back to Golden, CO, from Sedona, AZ, to pick up my Machinist's tools 'cause I had a few job offers in Northern California if I could just show up there, when, the night I was leaving, Noel told everybody at the table (down in the big house at the bottom of Art Barn Rd. by Oak Creek below Hawkeye RV Park where John lives now) that she was in love with me. John was sitting right there and I didn't really know what to do or say (the way I see it I am honor-bound NOT to intrude upon a committed relationship), so I just left. I drove out the next day thinking that I would go get my tools and stop back in on my way through Sedona after thinking the situation through on the road. I would definately have scooped her up and run with her if the situation had been any different.

I had talked to my ex, Anita, on the phone about the Bus (which, at the time I left, was still sitting in storage at Krazy K RV in Camp Verde). She was living with that guy Mike - the blonde male nurse with the bad case of rosacea - and working bundling sage for Desert Dancer and wanted to sell the Bus back to me for $3000.00 (after I had just given it to her) because she needed new teeth (having lost all of her own). I left without seeing her trying to fetch my tools and get back so that I could figure out what to do about Noel.

Unfortunately, fate intervened when my car blew up, on the way back to CA, in Trinidad CO (NOT the Subaru parts capital of the world!) and therein lies a tale for another time that proves to me, at least, that this whole ordeal is still being orchestrated by my Soul(Essence) for the purposes of its own growth, and that my continued existance, if not my happiness, is necessary for its selfish karmic purposes. I was stuck there, in a motel in downtown (sic) Trinidad, having used parts UPS-ed to me from wrecking yards in Albequerque and beyondfor a few momnths and then, when I finally put the engine back together, it was the middle of the winter (Jan., 2005) and I had a job offer up here in Fort Collins. So, rather than attempt to get all the way to No. CA (1300 miles), I drove up here (300 miles) where I have been working, paying off the IRS, and saving up money for a new car ever since.

I have tried to get in touch with Noel (wrote John a letter, tried to find Hawkeye's e-mail address, etc.) but with no luck. I haven't called there (I do still know the number) because John never answered my letter and got back in touch with me, AND, evidently, he never wanted Noel to hook up with me anyway (AND I never really knew if I was ready for the responsibility of a wife thirty years younger than I and a baby who was the alleged progeny of an old friend).

Anyway, that's my story and I'm sticking to it. I'm still alone and lonely - hopelessly so. Hope you and yours have a great New Year (anything'll be better than mine, I'm sure.) - The Dalf

Wednesday, December 21, 2005

A Wiccan Christmas Card

The Season Of Supposed Good Cheer

Well folks, once again, it is that time of year.
So let me tell you all a story, steeped, ages deep, in vainglory,
about this season of supposed good cheer:

Long, long ago when this world was quite young,
most people believed in a religion that said man and nature were one.
The symbol of this synthesis was half-animal and half man.
A totally harmless, flute playing sprite who reveled in life,
worshiping only the light, and all the folk called him—Pan.

Goat horned and hooved was he, a simple illustration, you see,
of the wide world in balance, nature and human life in close harmony.
But then a new religion arose, calling the innocent old faith perfidy,
based upon a concept of life as anthro(as opposed to eco)centricity.
With intolerance was it rife, and after its god it did hight—Christianity.

Thereupon, the folk all were told (andforced to say it was true)
that all the old ways were wrong, that the new god was so strong.
Thus the god of the older faith became the “devil” of the new!
Gross cruelty and persecution did then begin, and thereafter did ensue
the evil times, “The Dark Ages”, and more all should, to this day, rue.

So for all the gentle souls who were tortured, or at the stake burned,
for believing intheir religion, for persevering about Nature to care,
let us offer up a paean (or call it a prayer) to whatever god you dare:
that from theocentricity, hatred and bigotry be all religions turned;
that, no longer should anyone, because of their faith, have to fear!

Then this season might truly be, for all , one of good cheer!

Monday, December 19, 2005

A Pagan Christmas Card

Midwinter's Eve Again

This season, hight “Christmas”, has rolled round once more
And we’d like to remind you, as you’re shopping in stores,
That long ‘fore religion's we know celebrated this rite,
Down through thousands of years, allaying all fears:
The Winter Solstice a pagan holiday was, all day and all night.

Folks stayed up to celebrate, till dawn, with their friends.
Making sure Sun would come back, again and again.
Through cold rain and snow, ‘round fires all night long,
They sang songs and waited, misty breath unabated:
A vigil fair maintained, assuring naught would go wrong.

Thus we wish you good fortune, good cheer and fine plight,
And we wish so, remembrance, of this night’s true respite:
From the forces of Darkness, stagnation’s requite.
Enlightenment we evoke, from ignorance to invoke:
“Be excellent to each other!” and “Party down!”, it's your right!

Tuesday, December 13, 2005

Sequipedalien Paronomasia, cont.

. . . Things just got stranger and stranger though. I ran into my 43rd wife
there, sporting new mams (she, not me), and a new beau (some codpiece-enhanced crackreek© CPA from Tierra Del Fuego North©, with a contiguwuss© eyebrow and betelnutrotted© plasteeth), at the nightly ‘JackoffJill Disco’©; humped them both perverunctoreally© (for Deco-rhum’s© sake) and ended up whipped and wayoverhung© at the Club’s Breakfastorgybar gimme-Buffet© trying to choke down a plate of ‘MagnoliaThunderpussy(©)Pooptarts’© and fresh jizcream©, while unSteadmanly dodgering© the OTTOmaided© cat-o-mime-tails© wilding Elviituvla’s© that were working the buffetline.

It was then that I had my now much valleywho-Op-ed© epiepiphany©, in an effuallgent© flash of agenbitinwitsitu©-IRMWsckt©-shortedtoground-threw-brainspam© so perspirinvidiouscicacious© that if froze the Synthlymph© in my stunned and reeling hydro-enSETHalamic© AIemplants©!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! - :

. . . “THE BANNED”©!!!!!!!!!!!!


I was on a MISSION FROM COD!!!!!! I had regained my Guerrilla WittgenSteiner© cummingsynsenessence© of NOHthrupFryedlike© centracontraility© of mythooze©, and myonaninkarnakitive© concupissantequiproseleGaiaSet-E©!!!


WAYRADITWAS, and well, the rest is herstory, as y’ll know, but those were theodoronodaze© my frskens, and that was how it all CAymendooBBing@. I gHesse© chew jest ad two Bea “ARThiere”©, don’cha’gnome©, don’cha’gnoumenon©! It’s just like Tiny Dr. Tim and/or Gandalf said, longague© in Fairway Park: ‘We’ve already won, all that’s left is the moppin’ up.”! The viewture will be shapesifted by GrindingrungrunniongrinninAOLollywaillin© young ThrasheRs with wetwirednetskateboards©.

{IMNSHO, there’s no reasonably probable [IOW: none now having greater than what I calcululate© to be an 11% (±2%) chance of consensocioccurrence© (percentages having permutatively decreased in conformance with the vaticinaderivation© of a geomatriaxially© continuiguous© AINcontraverticestringfractal-inaccessationablequationmodel© since ‘65)] bifurconcatenation©/line-of-’futurehistory’-force-vector-sum that will escape the substantive influence of of the 60’s, so get over it, already, all you fundittoheads and nostalgia buffs.} Progress, don’t repress or regress. ‘YAH don’t need TA wHETherman, for ‘lo, ‘WITCH-WAY’ this wind blows.’} -J- );{>

All comments cheerfully solicited - just a short one this, but this is what I feel I do best, I can, and will, if asked, define and/or explain any of the Neologisms hereinbefore created/used, and some of the polyentendre. Please though, be patient, I do have a “just-a-cog-in-the-gears-of-the-GNP” stultifyingly non-creative day job and some scant semblance of a life. Namaste.

*BTW - The Test: How many of the identified new words above can be attributed to citable sources previous to this publication? How does a Neologist make money from Neology? I haven’t a clue. Do you? Anyway, “(t)hank you for encouraging my behavior.” *