Bare Bones Biology 279 – Two Moons

Full moon again. I think it was full moon when Bitsy and I came once again down from the mountain into the miasma that once was (according to me and William Least Heat Moon):

 

“. . . an intense clarity as if the little things gave off light.” Maybe some of you also remember; it was not so long ago.

Then we cleaned out the studio and the clubhouse and also the Annex.

 

We wore out two pickups and ended with the third, which is a dark taupe, or perhaps dark gray, dude truck with a mind of its own and room for four people and half of their stuff. It locks when it feels like it, honks its horn from time to time for no apparent reason, and starts every time I turn the key (that I now keep in my pocket at all times) and keeps on going until I turn the key off, which is very useful.

In the process we were, at various times:

  • (1) sick — microbiotic sick, requiring antibiotics, AND chemically sick for which there is no cure except to get away, which we could not do while accomplishing the purpose of the trip. Of course, antibiotics are chemicals, so double whammy – triple if you count the sress.

(2) Homeless while owning three homes.151028-Halloween-asc_9772RSs

  • (3) Delighted to have found a good new owner to one of the homes.
  • (4) Dependant very much on the help of friends.

(5) Scrounging for utilities.

 

Yesterday we slept on the floor with no utilities; today the Ramada Inn at Gatesville, and the incredible luxury of no sick-making chemicals, an actually HOT bath and a bed with four or five pillows and a TV with a few hundred stations, all expounding on the basic theme of war and/or extreme competition, which is the same thing. Why you want to raise your children on a theme of war escapes me. I also remember when that was not true. I turned it off.

 

We are heading back up the mountain from the land of the “ostrich” to the land of reality, on the clean air trail. A greater contrast would be difficult to imagine. As described by Wm. R. Catton, Jr. (“Overshoot,” 1980):

 

“The world looks very different to people who think in terms of such different           perspectives. Communication between them can be as difficult as between people    who share no common language.”

 

Or more so.

 

There is no point trying to talk about anything of significance within a community that hears words you did not say or mean, so as not to listen to what you are saying — to keep the people occupied with futile conflicts over irrelevant trivia — while their lives and futures, and even their own past, crumble under their very homes like one of those sink-holes on the late-night weather channel. Only to listen is painful enough. Discussion is socially impossible; give it a try and you will be cut off by one or another social attack, as the system strives ever harder to maintain itself in the face of a wildly anomalous belief system that does not relate to the reality of what is happening to the system as a whole, and therefore cannot actually accomplish any kind of future dream. The Brazos Valley has become the poster child of our malaise.

“Real Limits not seen are not limits repealed.” (Catton)

151028-Halloween-asc_9746RSs

And I don’t know about Bitsy, but I have a strong sense that there are two of me. As though my brain has two completely different people in there, and it takes a morning of hard physical labor and a good night’s sleep at the Ramada and a half hour under the evening sky watching the full moon rise out of the gleaming silver smog, to wake up the next day a different person. Who I was before I drove voluntarily into the ghostland and who I must become again to survive our common nightmare with eyes that can see beyond the cataracts and ears that can hear above the WIFI.

 

This is Bare Bones Biology, a production of FactFictionFancy.Wordpress.com and KEOS radio, 89.1 in Bryan, Texas.

 

A copy of this podcast can be downloaded at:  http://traffic.libsyn.com/fff/Bare_Bones_Biology_297_-_Two_Moons.mp3

 

And when we arrived at the Winter Palace, what did we find at the end of the road?  May’s pea soup.  And another day.

 

 

Blue Highways, A Journey into America, William Least Heat Moon. 1982. Fawcett.

Overshoot; The Ecological Basis of Revolutionary Change. William R. Catton, Jr. 1980. University of Illinois Press.

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