Friday, May 25, 2007

A Dinosaur Breeder

I talked to a man who has been away working at The Jurassic Park for the past six months, or so, and he assured me that everything is running rather smoothly. The eggs are but a few weeks from hatching, the environment is lush and healthy. Natives have been kept completely in the dark. There have been a few accidents, of course (raptor removal gone wrong, a mating experiment pushed over the edge of decency, far too much unrefined peyote seed in the employee lounge), but all in all, things have gone well. This man knows plenty about dinosaur birth and rearing. Much more difficult than one would think. But they keep these things in the dark from the American public, some mutations are best kept quiet as long as possible, and at least secret until after the Winter Primaries. Good God, if it got out before than…However, he is very receptive to personal letters, and if you would like to know more about the project I was assured that a simple note would be sufficient. These folks want secrecy, but certainly not blanket oblivion. What, of course, would be the fun in that? Anyway, you can e-mail my friend the dinosaur breeder at the following address or by Mojowire at:

241 Russell Senate Office Building
Washington, DC 20510
Phone: (202) 224-2235

I've listed his phone number, but for god sakes don't call. This is not a matter to be discussed over a land line, and it seems quite certain that he would deny all knowledge of the project and assign his closest associate/bulldog/guru to monitor your every move…We definatly don't want that…

And what a post from a few nights back…remind me not to mix those two things again…lots of bleakness…but the wind is blowing in new water vapor on a daily basis…

Wednesday, May 23, 2007

And So....

And that is the ultimate cruel gift of the 1960's. They have given us lack of reason. As Dr. Gonzo said, the reason that they succeeded resided in their lack of fear of the establishment. And their ability to believe completely in the realization that their power would overcome everything. Of Course. They knew that the mental power that they possessed would eventually put them over the top, into the ether, out of the blue. We have no such hope. We are trapped in the truth that stings us from the bad waves of paranoia that crushed the beauty of the 1960s, and gave birth to the disgusting afterbirth of everything after it. Good God, how could they not see it coming? How could they not realize that all political process is inherently flawed and useless? They were optimists, no doubt. And our generation is clearly doubtful and betrayed by the establishment that seemingly drives our every move. It gives us reason to believe that everything we do will have no real effect, and so we do nothing. Of course.

The punishment has risen over the years. It will take much more force than we posses at this point to create a stronger revolution than that which spawned out of the drywall of the pre-civil rights area. We will need a stronger sense of truth, and no doubt, we not only do not posses it at this point, but we can't even see it. It is the curse of the dirty black gift that we've been given. And Christ, are we comfortable.

Sad and cursed. And we are much different. We live in a time when the stakes seem (and are) harder and more true. Or goal is difficult to define, but clear to point out. We will mop up the mistakes of the crude and melon collie. Those awful bastards that have deprived and sodomized the American Dream for 40 years. They are the only satisfactory truth that has spilt out of the truth of the mid-20th century. And it may be our sad and rough duty to fight that truth to very end. Like rabid three-legged foxes in a dry destitute Savannah. Oh yes, we will grab whatever we can and Tear and Rip. We have no other choice. This was not our curse to choose, it was simply a byproduct of everything that seemed pure and beautiful.

This is the cause of all this negativity, all this friction, all this dizziness. Ah yes, we've always known it. And yet can we confront it? The 1960's exposed the ugliness which was unfailingly apparent from their own times. They fought with (and against) technology and apparatus that was at the peak of its potency for the 20th century. And yet, ye Gods, it is our generation that must deal with the grim reality of technology and the furthering of Thought that was not even on the psychological radar some four decades ago. Sure, we've shown little effort, or ability, so far. Our music is awful, the writing has been thus far wretched (proud of Slate? Good god), the pop culture movement that seemed so brilliant has collapsed within itself and been sucked to the bone by the corporations that it had been originally set up to shun. But give us time, old faithful reader, and maybe we'll find our way in this wasteland of a new miserable millennia. At some point, maybe, we'll just need a push…

P.T.

Sunday, May 20, 2007

Savage Nights

Fat girls, trespassing, high-powered speed boats and savage animal attacks. Bad craziness. The summer comes slow and quiet for Orlando. It's a stealth plague that creeps in on the inhabitants of this doomed city as the brain fry of the deep summer is soon to set its fangs. Everyone can feel it. An awful mix of concrete, drywall, low-grade animal tranquilizers and warm tequila. No water, either. Scary. And Jesus, the NBA playoffs are so one-sided that finding a good bet in this town is impossible. Everyone's burrowing in deep and fast. Distractions are far and few between. It's going to hard to find any good cover.

There is a reason that no one lived in the spine of this state for the first few millennia of its existence. The Indians knew it. They stuck mercifully to the cool breeze of the coast and the restive muck of the deep everglades swamps. Far better than cooking in the middle of a terrible savannah of thunderstorms and rabid panthers. Even the old people that used to grow from this soil like mutated sunflowers stayed far away from this center of depravity. And then the outsiders came in droves. They started building around The Mouse and they leaked in from the pesticide fueled Space Coast. They didn't know what they were getting themselves into. How bad could it be, they figured. Certainly no worse than a January in Cleveland. Ah those poor fools, it can be worse. And now we pay for their greed and unconsciousness with sprawl and brutality.

This place keeps growing. Soon it will sprout out into the warm waters of the Atlantic Ocean as some sadistic peninsula. The orange groves have been flattened and the room to grow is increasingly sparse. Orlando has an interesting take on urban growth; renovate an old decaying shopping center? Ah fuck it, just stomp down some more forest and build a new one. Money for me, money for you. But it creates chaos and ugliness for this poor city. And we only begin to see its true strength when the humidity begins its chokehold. But I'll investigate it to the very end.

Saturday, May 5, 2007

Digging and Rocking

Fields of Grass--AP

London-To all naturally produced plant species on the planet earth there is a pure and easily seen common trend. All plants live in the wild, at some time, in some place. And yet, this unmistakable factor is rarely included upon discussion of the illegal street drug commonly called Marijuana. Scientists at the University of Dankenville are trying to challenge all this thought.

“We simply feel that the amount of knowledge in the realm of wild cannabis is not at an acceptable level. The fact is, marijuana used to thrive in the wild, and fields of its golden sparkle, or light orange smile, used to inhabit various plains and somewhat arid regions of many continents in the world,” said founding scientist Richard Budlington. He, and a crew of college interns who seemed disinterested and hungry in many visits to the study’s main dig, are working to uncover some of the ancient facts in the history of Cannabis.

In the beginning days of botany any thoughts on wild cannabis restricted it mainly to its now more popular use of today, agriculture. But recent studies show that a plant with a very similar chemical make-up to the Cannabis sativa strand, which is now commonly burned for medicinal purposes in today’s society, once grew commonly in the ancient sun-filed and light misting plains of Canada. The specias Cannabis crstylia is now thought to have supported an odd ecology in a time dating back 3 to 4 million years ago.

However, it is not fully understood why, or how, the specias finally died out. And the current thinking among prominent botanists is that that Cannabis crstylia is a direct, or indirect (they never seem to be able to decide), ancestor of the plant which grows today.

“It’s just fascinating, cool-cool stuff were doing here, man,” reported an intern of the work at a “dig-site” in the western province of Alberta, Jacob “Double D” Atkins. “I mean we are finding things out that are just blowing our minds. Some ancient history of Cannabis is just far more fascinating and unique that what the scientific community used to understand. There’s new species we’re finding here.”

Although scientists at the dig sight seemed to provide scanty evidence of “new species”, they are discovering quite a bit about how to set up a fully functional entertainment center in the middle of a deep Canadian forest. And they do seem to be genuinely committed to the study of smoking the ancient strands of Cannabis they are discovering.

“Compare and contrast man, compare and contrast,” Artkins explained.

But as Richard Budlington eloquently puts it, the main focus of the site is proving both rewarding and challenging.

“It’s tough, you know? I mean, we’re out here a solid 2-3 hours a day, sometimes a little less if we’re looking to sleep-in, and we’re just digging and rocking. Digging and rocking. Sometimes it’s kind of cold, and Jimmy’s like ‘hey, maybe we should just mellow out today’, but we tend to push on. And the discoveries we’re making are amazing,” he said while smoking a long oak wood pipe on a somehow imported piece of living room furniture. All told, the dig site is equipped with three couches.

“We just can’t believe the story we’re unraveling out here.”

And the story they are unraveling is finding a nerve with some in the budding scientific community of Botany. Retired professor of argriculture at the University of Minnesota, Dr. John Goodins finds many of their theories and discoveries simply mind-boggling.

“They keep claiming new discoveries in some ancient Cannibus field, but quite frankly, they have no evidence to back any of this up. I seem to get an e-mail every other day from Mr. Budlington, and he goes on and on about new animals that used to thrive in this plant’s fields, but when I ask for hard evidence he seems to decline to reply. I can’t help but conclude that any of the “discoveries” their making have to be taken with a big grain of salt.”

Dr. Goodins is just one of a large group of scientists who find the teams reportings of an ancient “marijuanafly” or a small purple rabbit who could sometimes fly and sometimes talk, simply perplexing. These scientist say the idea of ancient fields filled with some strange form of Cannibus are simply half-baked. Most of the scientists seem to agree that Mr. Budlington (or Doctor, as he likes to be called) has just spent a little too much time trying to get away from his wife and listening to Purple Rain backwards.

But the faithful team of scientists, which total 8 in all, refuse to let criticism’s by much of the scientific community halt their work. And they have been digging around the edge of an Alberta forest for 2 months now, but have seemed to get only 4 feet down.

“First of all, people like Goodins are just industry tools”, responded Sunshine Jefferies, the only female at the dig site. “I mean, Dr. Budlington doesn’t even have a wife and he’s been single most of his life. And the marijuanafly is real, we have the pictures to prove it.”

When this reporter asked Ms. Jefferies exactly what the “industry” was in the quiet field of botany and why an allegedly archeological team would be searching for pictures of their specimens, she seemed to become dazed. Eventually young Sunshine Jefferies merely wandered off towards a nearby stream.

“Sunny’s a super girl, you know,” intern Atkins said later. “A lot of people say that she likes to eat box, but I think that’s all kind of crap. She’s just shy that’s all, and the marijuanafly she was talking about certainly existed. How do you think these plants pollinated, man?”

When asked what Ms. Jefferies meant in saying that the team had captured on the new species on film, Jacob “Double D” Atkins seemed amused.

“She says a lot of things man, she says a lot of things,” he said with a smile.

Upon a thorough investigation of the dig-site, little could be found other than snack food and Jimmy Page CD’s. But their stories of peculiar ecosystems, with Marijuana plant’s as the plankton of this world, are fascinating. Take for example the idea, that has seemed to come about in the group, that in these ancient times of Cannibus a small dwarf like creature used to survive. The main thinking seems to be that some small type of humanoid used to live within the fields, and kept the plants large buds from destroying the plants themselves with their overall size. This dwarf like creature lived in a peaceful community in these fields, and lived as one with the environment. Although, like most of the teams findings, evidence seems to come up short. But one thing they do not lack is imagination.

“These little dudes just lived up in these field’s and never fought and lived real peacefully,” another intern, who would not give his name upon the fear that his parents would read this article, tried to explain.

Peaceful indeed.

Dr. PT Oliveri for the Associated Press
(soon to be a minor motion picture)

Thursday, May 3, 2007

That Nefarious NBA

There's been a little bit of an issue out of the NBA this week. A dual-jointed statistically backed college essay came out basically saying that white referees were calling the game unevenly depending on the race of said refs. If, say, the crew was all white, they tended to call more fouls. If the crew was all black, they called less fouls. This hints that the white refs (who are judging a league that is over 80% black) are being racists towards the black players they are judging. An interesting concept, to be sure. And not, as some of the talking heads on ESPN are yelling (they've become the Fox News of sports coverage) something to brushed aside easily and laughably. The NBA reeks of racism around every corner. But all I'll say about it pertains to this quote from the New York Times on a ratio that these writers (who are scientists and statistical mathematicians) believe they see in the data:

"Their results suggested that for each additional black starter a team had, relative to its opponent, a team’s chance of winning would decline from a theoretical 50 percent to 49 percent and so on."

Sorry fella's, you just lost your creditability…