Designed Destiny Destination

Cicadas replaced by crickets, katydids and grasshoppers in the cool-but-warm, warm-but-cool August night. Never more than a few feet from a spider.

Many I have not thanked in passing or remembered when they passed from this social life.

The ancient ways are still with us in our soon-to-be old-fashioned modern world.

Gone are Sean O'Casey and Marilyn Monroe. Icons and inspirations. Enigmas.

We call out the name of Great Spirits in every culture.

To them in their memelike states do I write this blog, at peace with my lack of knowledge, my ignorance, that which makes me incomplete. Not knowing is all I have seen.

Others prove their manhood through action. My manhood is here in these simple humble words. I sacrifice displays of testosterone-tempered headbutting for better understanding all states of energy equally.

I am the hermit in the woods connected to those who still see forest spirits and those who only see what scientific inquiry reveals rationally.

I doubt everything, questioning. I accept everything without question.

I exist until I die. I will never not be.

How many entertainers from pre-Vaudeville days can you name? What was the most popular sport before baseball/cricket/futbol became the national pastime?

Can you name who invented the club or sewing needle?

I am an old man, these words all I have left to give.

All that I see in this moment I also see has disappeared 1000 years from now.

Everything will be gone but all is not lost.

Newly-discovered pulsars and ocean-launched rocketships. Asteroid dust and stolen spacesuits. Stutz Bearcats and raccoon coats. Terrestrial orchids and ATV trails.

Condensing our lives like bidirectional lines connected to a DSLAM attached to the Internet. All our dermal receptors, rods and cones, cochlear cilia, tastebuds, synapses and the rest of what makes us Skin and Bones.

Are you listening? Can you smell the wind?

Who will become wealthy from developing the de facto litmus test that measures gradients from deadly meth to a good "safe" batch?

While times get tougher, the rough-and-tumble create new markets wherever possible. Steinbeck and Okies become popular again. Hobo packs become de rigueur.

And always the question: when is the time to topple the old regime that no longer serves the majority, the "people"? Often only after the common soldiery and palace guards no longer get nutrition from their government-issued I.O.U.s. and the rich find a new revenue stream in funding a sporty overthrow. Decommission in troves without ample salary compensation and watch debrainwashing explode.

So much for not getting involved. My programmers say some new outputs require my immediate analysis. IS there a regime about ready to implode?

Until next time, my little chickadees!