“I should feel guilty”

Now I know why I used to say that, and what it hid.


April 29, 2015 at 5:16 pm Leave a comment

The “countdown” begins

The first meaning would be what “Type 7 or VII” is.  The countdown mentioned is to the usual timeframe; over 64 hrs old, that type of Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome, very close to 0% chance that I’ll live longer, especially due to the combination of weakness and being unable to even partially ‘defend’ myself because ‘it’s not a very serious disease (especially since it’s from so long ago).  The ‘defense’ failed utterly. And it actually is a better idea to take care of someone younger first.


I’m also taking ‘antidepressants’.  For bipolar, right?  No.

For epilepsy (also often also used for the treatment of depression).

April 17, 2018 at 5:33 pm Leave a comment

The Fight or Flight Syndrome

The currently correct form of this saying (“the only response to attack is fight or flight”) is wrong.


The choice is to flee, fight or submit.


Civilization is the art of submission, and language is its vehicle.–


Societies also can’t survive without language.


Corrected 3/28

March 5, 2018 at 10:40 pm Leave a comment



The joy that you gave me
has all become remembrance,

Duck mirrored in the lake:
his hoarse call.

The desert madman…
they called him wise.
He starved to death.

This face recalled: surface’
So bright, so sharp.

And to truth?–silence
or a laugh.

After the word, silence.
After birth, death.
And after singing noise.


All for tonite methinks.


February 28, 2018 at 11:37 pm Leave a comment

Journey to the West

Journey to the West

this sightly, seemly road
set out upon: at times
bewitching, at others merely

a dull trudging, day
to similar day, no new thing done nor mountain known,
one unrefreshed, thirsting

for some unnameable liquid. (let us state, for the
record, that Lamb’s blood and milk left only that

at times, to the side
of our path,
or before, we can see
vague intimations of some goal, or ending-place.

…Shapes that sway
in the fog of a moonless night; peripheral phantoms,
never quite visible, straight on.

At times i think the journey means more than its end.
Without this shifting, dimly-seen path–where would we


I remember writing this quite clearly for a number of reasons.  A Dr. Runner  (of Dordt University) was visiting at the Canadian border–I don’t remember which side–and on the strength of my comprehension of a very funny joke before he’d actually finished telling it, told me I had a scholarship awaiting me, all the way through to doctorate.  This fitted in well with my first acquaintance with Nikos Kazantkis, a growing feeling of a need to do something (it sounded, from the way they described it, like a ‘call’ except that particular thing was supposedly devoted to be devoted to one of the ministering professions whereas mine had to do with some particular task, not yet known and I just didn’t want to try gambling since I was positive I’d suck at trying it; I kept ‘ignoring’ it with more and more difficulty as it grew toward compulsion.) The exact parallel was when I discovered poetry and realized I was a poet, although I still don’t claim I’m good.  That’s for others to consider; I strive to produce art that most of all is an ongoing examination of what “reality” might be and where the source of it could lie but with a first concern of striving toward beauty while concentrating secondly on ‘truth’ or at least a painstaking attempt to convey exactly what is sensed.  [One of the keys to determinism (behavioral psychology, Pavlovian psychology) is; ‘What is the source of the various criteria employed in defining the environment?’  In many respects behavioral psychology is learning theory–especially when it comes to things like rigged tests, rigged so the test-taker will fail because of wilful lack of consistency on the part of the test-giver.

February 28, 2018 at 11:22 pm Leave a comment



another spring day
suddenly filled with driving rain: a gentle knock,
the timid, silly girl i hardly know.

she is full of the day, the driving
moment, complaining
of her uninvited houseguests and their unfortunate
habits (i sigh, yawn, offer

the peaceful pipe, sensing
the impending flood of words meant
to express inchoate thoughts)
and life
in general, past and future.

she wants something, i imagine:
chattering, combing her too-long bangs
up, waiting for a response
i can scarcely imagine.

finally, she leaves, asking
me to examine her car, her
house, perhaps her life.


i walk away, grateful
for silence.
silence, and the spring rain…


February 28, 2018 at 10:00 pm Leave a comment

Another Brief Note

I’ve been in and out of the hospital since September of last years; the last two stays were via Emergency.  Behavioristic principles were used on me in order to force me to be able to tolerate high levels of pain without any pause.


So what?  I tend to minimize, and even though I know that I don’t have any idea of what the ordinary person can stand (other than things like a PCP telling me “I don’t understand how you can stand that much pain!”  I’m sorry, it’s not a measuring point, and if “10” on a 1-10 scale, 10 the most pain–generally described as ‘the one where you can’t do anything except scream and hopefully pass out’ and…I’ve never been there.  The leg  broken in two wasn’t much of a support, but it was even once the new cast was once again sodden with blood.  It’s called a compound fracture.  Of the shin.


So what=the first time at Emergency I couldn’t grade the pain as a 10–my version–so they took a look at blood counts and sent me on my way.  The second time, one week later, I stayed for most of a week (I’m back on solid foods, et cetera).


I actually have at least 10,000 words stored away for writing here and now and I just don’t have a fraction of the energy needed for transcription.  If only I thought in English! but then again, come to think of it, that’s rather a contradiction in terms.


For the time being, the opening statement is something like this (I’ll  leave quote marks to the reader rather than he who transcribes):   [sorry, bad punctuation]


A language is a very specialized representational set.  First of all, it’s a system.  This means that it has internal rules (think of grammar, spelling, punctuation, specialized and generalized usages for starts) which do not correspond exactly to qualities in that which is being represented.  If it isn’t backed up by telepathy (which doesn’t appear to be a system!) the relationship between word and ‘object’ is accomplished by ‘pointing’ and the energizing principle seems to be the one instinct that humans haves–copying those who seem similar to  themselves.  Because it is a system the represented set should also have rules which are difficult to represent while following the rules that…make the represented set.  One of the primary indications that what is  being examined is a system–or to use some different words (more accurate in this case) that what is being examined is a set of objects and/or incidents which are causally related.  The main and polarizing assumption there is of course simply that causation is a valid concept.  That, of all the things science via the empirical method has caused (I mean that is, of course, given that anything can cause something else) is the  possibility of a closer examination of things like causation and thus of free will.   One demand is the constant attempt to observe via the senses rather than the beliefs and it’s obviously the hardest.


And that is the first tiny fragment.  To examine that at all thoroughly took a bit over 20 years and I don’t think that this is a part of my thoughts that I could ever regard as finished.


This is automatically protected by Commonlaw Copyright–and the newer versions as well, of course.  I encourage usage of the concepts.  I’d just like attribution and also the ability thereby to clarify concepts I’ve employed which have no dependable relationship to the usual lingual interface.

February 12, 2018 at 3:10 pm Leave a comment



the meanings you seek
i think died long ago. silence
can bear many freights. i speak not,
expecting no listener; my words
are uttered only to the void. some understandings
are hard to bear,
can’t be forgotten.

the shape a gesture makes
remains, i think; i’m not sure.
certainly, at times, i’ve
withheld my self. to not care…

i watch you watching me,
and say nothing. what could i tell you
you don’t already know?–
you do not hear
my unspoken words. but then,
you never heard when i spoke.


Yes, this has a lot to do with my evaluation of human relationships and the ability to communicate outside of assigned roles–which have generally been presented as ‘truth’, and thus any disagreement must be lies.  The implication I just made was not at all incidental.

January 12, 2018 at 2:19 pm Leave a comment

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