RUDIMENTS, pt. 871
(pet theory)
Over the years, (years of
alarm; years of happy), I've
held to many theories. Like
the one I mentioned two or
three chapters back, 'Lesson
Learning Catching Up With
Itself' - which tries to explain
how the things that end up
occurring are occurring
because of the input for
such an occurrence which
we have first created, by
vibrational intensity, so that
we can then have to deal
with, and force to conclusion,
whatever it is, and the lesson
attached to it. That's a quirky,
happy theory. But, it's a theory.
This one is a practical action,
instead of pure 'theory.' This
one involves physical matter
and physical action. It goes as
follows, and it's really quite
very simple.
-
Much of the rest of the world,
for some reason, envies us. It's
all well, right now, in that many
of the previously lower-level
countries are catching up to the
sort of 'material' profligacy
we've always been known for,
that massive and mostly useless
materialism to which Americans
always salute and pledge.There
are numerous places yet, by dint
of ancient and iron-age religions
or whatever, where were are hated,
despised, murdered and/or cursed.
And, it seems, often vice-versa.
Violence and war, and flame and
death from the sky. On our side,
the big deal concern now is for
trash and recycling and purification.
So, my proposal is to have the
largest C-130 military cargo planes,
or whatever is used for that these
days, on a constant rotation, much
like the old Berlin Airlift, during
the early 1960's and the Berlin
Wall and all that trouble. We can
fill them up, endlessly, with old
washers, dryers, TV's toasters,
and all the rest of the zillion
pieces of crap America uses up,
destroys and discards, and simply
airdrop all this junk, as if bombing
runs, but not - not lives lost or
maimed by wartime explosives,
and just dump it all onto Afghanistan
or Iraq or Iran or whatever one of'
those alternating countries are that
give us, supposedly, so much woe.
Just inundate them with our trash.
If any start shooting back and take
out a few planes, too bad - I figure
these military guys have half a
death-wish anyway or they wouldn't
have willingly joined. Let them be
'collateral damage' for a while, instead
of kids and peasants - see how they
like it, and see too how quickly all
that war-shit comes to a halt. We have
enough junk to cover the world.
We're a super-power, after all!
-
Of course I have absolutely no idea
what this would bring forth. Which
might be a good thing! After all,
every other stupid, junk tactic has
been tried, for 75 years, and we still
seem to be killing and decimating
each other. So, maybe a few nearby
deserts and sand dunes covered in
trash cars and junk would be enough
of an eye-opener to catch the world's
attention. Like putting the world's
finger right into the electrical outlet.
I'm old now anyway, and I'm expected
to now have daffy and outlandish
ideas. so, there's one for you. What
are they going to do back to us?
Air-drop falafels?
-
As it goes, that would at least
be great material for one of those
comic-book artists. Graphic novelists,
I think they call themselves now.
It could be a cool story to tell, or
illustrate. I never know where all
that got started, maybe is was the
cave paintings at Lascaux. Or Mad
Magazine - there's a lot of space
between Mad Magazine and the
cave paintings, agreed, but what
if - just think - writing had not
been invented and the only things
we had to go with were the purely
visual, not even with word balloons.
Leaving them blank of course would
bring the entire concept right up to
date because, really, who thinks
today anyway? What in the world
would the word balloons be filled
with? Ad slogans and bad art?
Portrayed only graphically remember.
no words; that's cheating. The
idea is to render abstractly and by
line image that which arises from
concept only. It will be a sly, new
world, if it ever returns. Face it,
there are a hundred different ways
to spend your time, and these are
only a few. The average human,
without even realizing it, can do
three, four, maybe five things
at one time. (It makes you wonder
about the troglodyte thinking that
claims a person can only do one
thing at a time, and then allows
cars to come equipped with some
14 different non-driving applications
that can be done - heck that you
are invited to do and savor and
appreciate - as you drive. Seems
really stupid thinking to me. But
who ever proclaimed a lawman
as smart)?
-
One time, along w38th thereabouts,
I had a few biker guys with me
and we'd been invited to a sort of
after-hours get together at some
old westside stables turned car
bar turned motorcycle shop. I knew
one or two of the guys there, and
it was always low-key. We blew
in there, maybe 9pm, after a
full, regular day of something
at local Javits thing we'd been
at. The hot-rod Biker mechanic
guys had also been there, and that's
how this after-hours thing came
about. It was a low, garage-like
place, and I'd seen a hundred of
them, back in 1967, when they
were, all along there, still horse
barns and wagon sheds and even
blacksmith shops, for the horses,
and food carts and stuff. Over
the years (this was now 1997),
that stuff was all gone and had
been replaced by taxi maintenance
and repair sheds. Same deal, just
cars not horses. This use now -
motorcycle hop-up shops and
repair places - was new and
all due to the then prevailing
new resurgence of 'motorcycles'
which had been taking place.
Mostly still hardcore stuff, but
already then being infested with
cell-phone biker guys who turned
out also to be doctors and dentists
and happy guys with a bunch of
money and some trophy wife, or
two. It was OK, if you could make
money off that trade, but otherwise,
when you had to live among it,
and them, these new money guys
were boring as all get out. Stocks
and bonds, traders, blowhards,
and bigmouths. I got bored with
it all in about 2 months when that
began. Anyway, in this guy's garage
it was still all hardcore guys, and
some club people too. One of the
guys I'd brought in had a pistol
strapped to his ankle, and - don't
you know it - he crosses his leg
and one of those club guys saw it.
Ankle holster and all that. I wasn't
aware this had gone down, and
all I heard was a bunch of noise,
a mighty powerful voice. The main
club guy was giving his opinion
out real strongly; leaving out the
punctuation foul-words, like every
3rd word, he basically said 'You
have the bleep nerve to bleeping
come in here with a gun on your
ankle, you bleep bleep I should just
bleeping shoot you now with
your own bleeping gun and call
you dead by suicide. Bleep Bleep.
Now, get the bleep outta' here.'
-
For me (speaking again of 'vibrational
intensity') it was sort of a serious
crossroads, beer and all. I had been
the one who'd brought these guys
in, though the club guy didn't know
that. He easily could have popped
the guy for the infraction (it was
that kind of unspoken Biker Club
Law protocol that you don't do
these sorts of things). He could,
also within the Biker ethos, once
learning I was the person they'd
come in with, just as easily have
taken it all out on me, as my
own bad 'management' error.
It therefore took about 14 seconds
for my quick-think to cover the
situation, stay calm, and just walk
up and say, 'Take it easy, I'll get it
going, it's over; didn't know about
this....' Which was all true, I hoped.
The other problem was that, true to
form, the other guy, the one with
the ankle holster and pistol, would
not have taken lightly to any personal
transgression, rules or not, and most
certainly would have commenced
firing back and you'd have read it
in the papers the following day.
We got out of there, no further
harm done.
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