Friday, March 5, 2010



Hoverfly (Sphaerophoria scripta) on a hawkweed flower


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The Trojan Horse

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I’ll make this simple. And as short as I can. And as private as I can.

The world is not a nice place. At its very core, it's a fucking mess.

I don’t care if you disagree with me. I know it’s true because, to my dismay, I’ve been used as the incontrovertible object of that truth. I’ve been “used,” any way you look at it. Bite your tongue if you think otherwise, or someone will bite it for you.

It’s true, for a fact.

The only reason I’ve ever conducted and cared about this blog, day by plodding day, is because I truly believe in beauty. The importance of beauty. The varieties of beauty. The uses and misuses of beauty. Above all, the value of beauty and what it means for our lives. This blog itself is irrelevant. I believe in the value of beauty and its frightening ability to change us. To rule us. To elevate us.

And yet the guttersnipes lurk by the side of this road.

The guttersnipes hide quietly, greasing their algorithms and picking a moment to play dirty tricks and cause havoc wherever they know they can get away with it. They don’t care that their greatest talent is making stupid, ignorant mistakes with alarming frequency – and then using those (blithely executed) mistakes to mask a deep-seated, destructive sense of superiority coupled with bigotry and intolerance.

If those last statements strike you as a tad “extreme” (ha! such a word!) or, let’s say, ill-considered, then you have not been around this block much. Little Miss Innocent, better watch your back. And you need to do some studying.

Only one “good” thing has resulted from Google (and its servile Blogger) shutting down all of my blogs, my Gmail account, and my Picasa account for an extended period (and not a whisper of explanation). Arbitrary and unexplained.

That one good thing is personal and private. I’ve realized that the recurring waves of “evil” (to use Google’s own byword) contain small packets of energy. I’ve cracked that secret. I can open up those packets and quietly use them to destroy the nastiness.

In the long term, I’m going to prevail. “Prevail” is Faulkner’s word, in his affirmation at the bottom of this page. Prevailing is important. It’s control. It’s will. It determines the nature and quality of the world we live in.

I’m going to defeat the guttersnipes.

Here or somewhere else, I will return to beauty. And I will continue to know the truth.



Take it or leave it. I don’t fucking care.




bad things: http://parmahamm.sensualwriter.com/





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