fruit flies

essaouira day 13, morocco day 45

Time flies like an arrow. Fruit flies like a banana. – Groucho Marx

it’s a chill grey rainy day after a night of tossing and turning. told lady this would be a good day to be stoned. she asked if we should go out and seek some. said no… it’d solve today’s doldrums, but create other problems – be better to wait a couple months. nobody knowing me these past 40 years would believe i’d ever say that. this journey has changed me.

i’ve also changed in that i’ve less anger and rage against the machine inside me. you can’t go through those many border bureaucrats and passport prosecutors without becoming more laid back and equanimous within. finally learned not to expect logic or fairness from flux.

although sometimes i do yearn for a shelf i could place me on to wait out my off moments. there’s a service in switzerland for the wealthy overweight – they’re put to sleep for months while they’re fed diet liquids intravenously to lose pounds… they go to bed a sphere, wake a straight line.

this is our 12th day straight of not smoking. starting to remember my dreams again. daily use of hash or grass makes me unable to recall night dreams. some sort of short term memory transfer failure. 16 years ago when i was drinking like a fish and smoking grass like a west virginia coal-fire factory, i had the longest short-term memory gap in town.

lady dreamt last night we went underground to a bus station. the moroccans there were dwarfish and had blue hair, their faces covered with freckled patches of it. said she didn’t know blue was a natural hair color… guess she hasn’t seen those little old blue-haired ladies infesting florida. she also dreamt she was with 3PO again – her cat of 12 years we had to leave when we left the states. in the dream he was covered in fleas and she was trying to find flea powder. in waking life, 3PO’s happy, flea-less, and has taken to sleeping in her mother’s kitchen sink.

in my dream, we were sharing a 100 foot long philadelphia hotel room with my father Pappy who’s been dead 18 years and my mother Mother Dwarf who died 2 years ago. night before in my dream i was smoking so much hash with my dead brother Cat i’d lost 4 days and was upset because i couldn’t remember taking the ferry across philly. he’s been dead 20 years. that’s 40 years of dead folk in my immediate family – 93 years if you toss in my 1st dead brother who lived 9 months and checked out 53 years ago. i’m 61 years old, yet carry 93 years of close family death around in my mind. no wonder my head’s heavy.

the day count above jumped by 2 because not counting the partial days bothered me. i’m a counter. i count because the answers might clarify the who what where why i’m in this life without parole sentence called existence. i collect facts as clues – hoping for answers, or suggestion of direction.

the longer i live, the less i understand. the more i learn, the less i know. the more myriad my experience, the more mystified i become. actual answers seem as chimerical as unicorns and honest politicians.

if there’s a god, she / he / it / they are doing one heck of a lousy job, whereas evil seems to be working just fine.

mammon is mammoth, spirit supine.

perhaps we create god in our image to explain the evil we do. there’s the nasty but understandable law of the land – kill what you need, but eat what you kill. then there’s the law of the rich – which is kill everything in sight, deposit it in your checking account, then kill more for your savings.

I’d eat the rich, but their taste is so bad
I’d serve the poor, but too many already have

Politics is the art of looking for trouble, finding it everywhere, diagnosing it incorrectly and applying the wrong remedies. – Groucho Marx

George Bush in 2003 told Palestinian Prime Minister Mahmoud Abbas (according to the Israeli newspaper Haaretz): “God told me to strike at al-Qaida and I struck them, and then he instructed me to strike at Saddam, which I did, and now I am determined to solve the problem in the Middle East.”

i told Lady K that Cheney and Bush have now killed an estimated one million Iraqis. “That means they’re this millennium’s first mass murders” she replied. i’m shocked, i tell her, how dare you say such things about our unelected leaders.

The whole aim of practical politics is to keep the populace alarmed by menacing it with an endless series of hobgoblins, all of them imaginary. – H.L. Mencken