“As soon as you start talking about mystique, you have none.” ~ Neil Young
“I come down from the misty mountain
I got lost on the human highway
Take my hand refreshing fountain
Take my eyes from what they’ve seen” ~ Neil Young, Human Highway
So . . . . . . I’m an avid Neil Young fan, He’s been a huge influence for my writing. Go figure. It’s not that Neil is strongly on my mind this morning. He’s just there, part of the background because of his affect on me through the years. What’s upfront and important this morning is the weather. How’s 12º sound to you? And windy, and humid. I’m finding it to be refreshing, regardless of the knowledge that I will tire of it quickly if it stays around. My coffee-making skills hit full bore today, in this dark hour of a beautiful morning. I know it’s become politically incorrect to drink Starbucks because of their opposition to regulations that would require labeling that reveals content containing GMOs. Heaven forbid that we should know what we are consuming, right? I find that policy to be appalling. But I like their coffee.
Lately I’ve been contemplating sociopolitical power plays, and power shifts, and the whacky places they can lead, without conscious awareness, and the effects that ooze from such thoughtlessness. And, and, and. I just don’t know what to make of it all. And what about the guy, or gal, that ends up in the the wrong place or position, in a potentially dangerous place. The news is full of such situations. They take the hit because the show must go on. We must leave the past behind us. I’m pretty sure that leaving the past behind us is a fairly universal thing, unless you consider quantum physics, but it isn’t usually on the table in boardrooms or on the streets for that matter. But we must also move forward, be a team player, put our best foot forward and all that happy horseshit. The powers that be aren’t gonna let humor into the equation. This is serious stuff, however silly it may seem. I don’t know why this has been bugging me unless it has something to do with smokescreens, and maybe even silkscreens. Slogans are often laid upon the fabric of tee shirt, and so it goes.
The rooster just crowed. He’s late. He usually starts at 5 AM. Is this tardiness an omen? Not really, but I could be wrong. My anxiety is running pretty high these days but I’m not going to go so far as to let some cock set the tone of my day. I might let the turkey do that, when he flutters boldly down from the roof of the chicken coup, but he is friggin trustworthy, and I like how he looks like a dinosaur. It’s humorous. You don’t see many of those these days. They got left behind when the world moved forward. C’est la vie. C’est domage, regardless of which translation of the French word you use.
Peace out, y’all. Goof gloriously.