HERON bird of ill omen

1593 NASHE Christs Teares over Jerusalem 90. The vulgar meniality conclude, therefore it [the plague] is like to encrease, because a Hearneshaw (a whole afternoone together) sate on the top of S. Peters Church in Cornehill.

A lot of times I ignore psychic things because there is nobody there to appreciate them.  Naturally, a theory exists which states that this (“psychic things”), does not exist (DNE).  There are surely even license plates with the letters DNE.  Here in California we have in general three parts to it, a number, then three letters, then three numbers (or “digits”).  But, I hit control-c (copy), on my keyboard, then I was thinking that I could hit control-v (paste), but do it in the title block.  I would then merely backspace until the title was short enough.  But it read my mind and just put it the way you see it, the way I wanted.  Now what is it that “read my mind”?  Surely not my computer, not even a giant, imaginary master computer with all of our computers as its tentacles, antennae, or feelers.  The problem is the “it”, in all cases, not just the ones referent to an ‘it’ that can be isolated in a sentence.  “Its” DNE, but they are subtly proposed to exist when we speak to each other.  “What are you talking about?”, can mean “what are you proposing?”, as well as, “what is the subject?”  As such, “Are you talking about making methamphetamine?”, is various up to and inclusive of both the subject matter, covered by the First Amendment, and a threat to commit a crime, which itself ( any statement taken as a threat; all statements may be taken as threats, BTW. It just depends on who is speaking, like, an Arab, to us.) usually ends up being an element of a crime.  IOW, not everyone who is in need of correction is in that state due to the commission of crimes.  They could be mentally ill, for one thing, if it were to exist.  It does exist, in the law, since it was put there, some say by a fascist government.

But, something read my mind.  In actual fact, there is a Great Blue Heron out my window, and I am writing about him (it could be a female, there have been two at times).  It is not the large snowy-white bird with the “hair” of feathers falling backward, it’s the same-shaped head with the tendency to stab the water and shake the beak, and a dull blue-gray color, walking deliberately like a stork.  I decided to see what it meant.  It means bad and good luck, but the people who claimed so were very ancient, not when they did it, rather now. We are all incredibly ignorant, vulgar, and we just do not appreciate the finer things.  That is, I live in California but do not know how it’s pronounced.

Look at this, “Strine”.   That is, “Australian”, see?  They do not even say that, because you do not have a prayer of understanding unless you know the exact words being butchered, and the text goes much deeper.  As of now, I’m an Australian.  I became one when I pronounced, “rise-up lides (razor blades)”.  They do plenty of meth in Queensland, but, they destroyed the forest in Cambodia because they only want you to consider meth.  They destroyed Cambodia, and Cambodia cannot fight back since it is traumatized. Richard Nixon showed them how to hate it in 1970, and itself, it committed much genocide in the time following the collapse of the American war in Viet Nam.  That destruction is a step in the production of MDMA, because of its illegality.  There, meth is a substitute drug, used to justify the torture of a population, flaying the flesh from their bones.  It works for me, eh?

This bird (need I say stupid?  It’s a bird) went to watching children run by the concrete flood-control channel, stretching its neck.  The neck usually folds and unfolds, but it stayed extended.  It likes it here.  I am an adult, so, me and things have an understanding.

Strine: http://www.textfiles.com/humor/strine.txt

Naturally, I do not count one difference between me and Oz.  I know this because I was online last night and I found another victim of melanoma.  We do not last long.  A normal cohort is the people who went to school with you.  By now, this cohort is the “goodbye” group.  Have I lost any?  Oh, no.  They died months before I heard of them.  Mine number few, there’s Mike West, bleeding in the brain (past brain tumors), and Bob Lawrence (brain tumor), and my new guy Scoones, already dead.  This guy was a really good person, so there are 80 years of pictures of him being just who you would want to have, like Ivana Trump’s “I have fabulous friends”, in Palm Beach (yeah, friends in Pal Beach (“PAL” means, “personal ass-licker”), FL.  As a friend*

The heron is there, it’s 9:13, I stand up, the heron is gone.  No, he found a tree branch to stand in.  He is getting some sun.  He is out of the water with the barbeque, the cooler, the tire, the mattress (down further).  I talked to some men who came to look, yesterday, claiming curiosity.  “Where?”, I asked one pair of shoes.  “Chollas Creek”.  I fed his genocide and moved along.  I told him about the homeless.  He agreed it was a problem.

What’s the point?  God, if I told you the whole argument, we’d be here all day.  Just a point?  The man from England never left England.  My name left England.  In fact, the whole time, there were wars, The Pacific War.  A Billinghurst then ran Peru, and it was traumatized.  Now Peru is holding elections.  This is the part of history that I am only here to view, just alive that much, and for that reason.  There are no reasons, I am just censuring.  That is, a Billinghurst left.  I think it was Elizabeth, and maybe a George, in 1880, from London.  I wonder why, not little whys, big ones.  What movement was afoot?    I don’t know.  Guillermo, equivalent to the stupid name Bill Billinghurst (they call us all Billy), I figure must have been an entrepreneur in the Chile Saltpeter era, and that war was the Saltpeter War.  Prior to that, in the same (armpit) part of the world, early indigenous people were wiped out in order to increase the flow of a commodity back to England and Europe.  Actually, when they say that God made cocaine and stuck it in the Andes, what they mean is that God made the world’s supply of fertilizer in two forms and stuck them both in the same place.  That’s a stronger coincidence than supplying the indians with a drug just because they had to work up real high (they didn’t need the wheel, didn’t even invent it).  The Himalayas are higher.  One nitrate was the guano from birds building up on sea islands for 10,000 years, the other was the change of air nitrogen into nitrate and deposition in an atomic monolayer from cosmic rays, where it was preserved in layers twenty feet thick in the world’s driest desert (see also, “The Alchemy of Air”, a book).


* as I want you to be.  –Nirvana

Dedicated to Soozie Scoones.  I like the name.


ADDENDUM, uh-den-DUMB.  Oh, what’s the use?  I must abandon my quest to have a decent count of the words in this farce, or else sacrifice the statement that they had nothing else in the capitalist world but saltpeter to fight over, so Guillermo must have been that type of entrepreneur. It grieves me to know I have money-making genes in my DNA, and I can’t use ’em.  Look at Julian Assange. Well, look at the cadre of vultures surrounding him, making cash.  You can’t be president unless you are in on your country’s economy, scam-wise.  That’s all they had.  Do you see reeds to make mats?  Can you weave? 

Can you?  That would have ended on a pure note, 1333.  I cover the use of ones in my notes, for clearing hurdles in a car while reading signs.  I don’t wish to contaminate their future use by spoiling it here, but in my country we are going to use letters, and you will have to ignore them and just read the numbers, not 259 1/2 Achilles Street, but A259, and as we pass try and focus on it (Dale Bozzio), the 2.  I would slap her ass until it rang out like  applause.  Shut up, WILL YOU!!?  Ones?  I WHOLE CHICKEN, I BAKED POTATO.  This: 111, is not only impossible, you will never see it since you can’t think, “three strokes and two spaces”, all you can do is, “One hundred AND eleven”.  in Californy, it’s  hunnerd null evan.  I was whole chicken in a past life, braised and saturated.


Hello to Chrischan, Barrett Brown.  Rather than expect this excrescence to stop lying, I am going to listen to Julian Assange.  I don’t need my mind messed up.  You can’t shift off Julian and have a prayer of doing the right thing.  The world is wound tighter than a two-dollar watch.


Oh, I see 1593 coming out.  I am not writing that far.

My heron could fly to the Gulf and die in the oil, not if it’s not careful, but just because “care”, and having a program in your brain are mutually exclusive.



[updated with pic of Soozi Scoones’ dad, who had what I have, and died of a stroke, and who never left England to live anywhere else, on March 15]

1603 words.  Pic went to the top.  Have it your way.  I like the four Os in one name.  I haven’t any Os.

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