Sunday, July 2, 2017

9701. RUDIMENTS, pt. 2

Making Cars
At one level all it meant was that I was
afraid of life.  If a person lives each step of 
the way fearing for the worse, thinking the
wall-switch will blow up on you if you
touch it in an unauthorized fashion, or the
carburetor on your '62 Chevy was to never
again have a functioning float if you monkeyed
with it, that's what you get. For a long time
I lived a fearful life. And then, at some point,
I finally got over that part of things, repairing
my own faucet drips, catch-basin leaks, along
with plenty of car and motorcycle stuff. Even
tough I was always all thumbs. That never 
went away. I used to envy these  -  for example  -
South Jersey dirt bike guys I'd see at scrambler
meets and time trials. If something went bad,
there they'd be on the side of some dirt path
somewhere deep in the piney woods, ripping
apart their Husqvarna or Yamaha in the very
near-middle of nowhere and with a 20-piece
tool kit. And you know what? Those guys 
would get that contraption going again and
take right back off. Motto being: 'Fear nothing.
You ride out on what you rode in.'
I mentioned my wife. She's the tinkerer sort; 
there's nothing that exists that she won't break 
into to find and/or fix, or attempt to fix, the 
problem. If she was a nuclear scientist and an
astronaut to boot, NBC and the rest of them
would be running endless footage of her in
outer space, space-walking and tethered,
to fix the malfunctioning space shuttle that 
she was scheduled to ride back in. No guts,
no glory. I think it's a bit of fear there too.
Her father, and her brother, both, when
alive, were exactly the same way. One of her
funniest recollections is of how her brother
use to take her finger and stick it into or onto
the electrical wall outlets to see and observe
(the both of them) the shock and charge that
she'd incur. Just to understand electricity.
Well, a bit, maybe. You note it wasn't HIS
finger, the big oaf, always hers.
That gets tiring after a while, for someone of 
my inclination : I find things often moved, or
re-bolted, or screwed back together wrongly
or inexactly, everything monkeyed with and
somehow altered. Like her father, like Rube
Goldberg, like something that used to be
unfashionably called 'nigger-rigged' (not sure
how that one got started, but, forgive), things
are fixed well enough but put back together
as if by some one-armed blind guy forcibly
writhing in a straitjacket with a wrench and
pliers and a screwdriver. maybe. They also
worship, these people, heartily, at the altar
of the great god Duct Tape.
As I said, I got by. Never quite understanding
the dour workings of this world, and being
still fixated by the apparent non-reality of
everything anyway. (As an aside here, let me
add, I was a good theoretical-physics student 
my entire life. It's the easiest subject in the 
world. I found that the power of individual
thought can take over, past a certain point. 
In this you need not be empirical at all  - 
one just takes the most outlandish concept,
almost as art, and spins the weave of ephemera
masquerading as evidence, to prove the 
existence of, say gravitational force field on
the apparent vertical-flow construction of
wedding-cake mechanics  -  see! That, by the
way, can also be the reason or excuse the baker
gives as to why the four-tiered wedding cake
collapsed in the center of the banquet table.
Nothing at all of which existed anyway and was
just a fleeting wave of illusion translated by the
mind into a passing reality. Get over it.)
I'm still as confused as ever. I guess. My own 
stabs at what's real and what's not never makes 
sense at all. My fatal flaw, I think at bottom, is
in believing in nothing at all. Which is pretty
much the same as believing in everything 
everywhere. I lost my faith a long time ago. It was
replaced, all these paths and ways and locations,
with an ad hoc jumble of stronger and better
beliefs than I'd ever had had before if I'd followed
the general gibberish that others usually follow.
The rank and file Presbyter of church council,
synod, College of Cardinals and any of that normal
crap. That's all just medieval BS masquerading
at State Power and control over people in another
guise, and calling itself 'separate' from secular
rule  -  which is and has always been a lie. How 
can you live and function under such a lie? The
kings and powers that be all along have always
used religion to bulk up their own sequence of
power and might and violence. The Kill For God
squad has always been the King's forces, taking 
over lands and executing heretics. All those
Charlemagne and Charles Martel types and
Henry The Bolds and Ulrich the Greats, n
all their Holy Roman Empire and 'In Hoc 
Signo Vinces' (that was God announcing to
one of those clowns on the field to go to battle
under the sign of the cross and he would win)
things, it was all a hoax. That's for real too, 
not some theoretical physics crap I'm making
up. Jeepers, take about Duct Tape holding
things together, that all takes the baker's cake.

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