one must use care.

as evidenced in the precise incongruity of free living. gosh b, less.

ekone living planter car

food of all creation; rust. and an imperfectible sense of wildcrafted whimsy.

don't look too far for the joads...

ekone horse camp

turn out for the barrels.

summer in southern washington, ready to hit the trail.

behind ray; bison windmills of revolution

offerings of plenty to the mightiest of allies.

a million years old, buddy.

ray, off his horse; an unnatural sight.

and behind ray, the windmills of the coming revolution.

who'd of thunk it...ekone...

ray's place, home of the good spirits

the lodge; first good snow of the year, dearly december.

trails, paths, footsteps; snowpadded expanses. every breath a dent upon the silence.

a parallel insistence coddles the horses in a blaze of white, horseshoepits rendered seasonally bereft
of potence. the snow is dry and the air is good. firewarmed rooms await.

siamese stuntvaudes

mr. whipple and eveil kneivel are now seen as siamese stuntvaudes:


we have little sense, motivations, or strategies of the key players. Baghdad is held by the Ghraibists, who are lying, slinking for now. Basra is uncontrolled chaos, with Sand families in a low-grade, long-term struggle for power. There is now a relatively coherent question:why isn't the illegit guvamint of the usa listed by klink as a key player

I think that's Clearly the situation on little sense of the long-term motivations or strategies of the key players. Baghdad is held by the Sapfists, who are uncontrolled chaos, in a low-grade, longstruggle for a relatively coherent potential militilitia of explosive questions of who controls the lock, for the key players.

their anti-war leader has taken this position. their anti-war leader has taken this position.

their anti-war leader has taken this position.

war leader has taken this position. this position, occupied, was taken by both sides, as the coin stoodunder its antiwar head.
with the extremeties of threats mostly under GAO oversight, FISA gobbled ulysses...but i digress.
with the extremeties of threats mostly under GAO oversight, FISA gobbled ulysses...but i digress
these are uncontrolled chaos. these are the abdications of the Salivafists. Clearly, Jown owns his J!
Or, that gasoleeny stuff,can be rusted and reapered. send our gallons home!
no wonder murtha was g. washinpun's naynay.
(i'll be a transparent referee when you're a magnetic fieldgoal.)
after all, what's the mission? our excellent oil, squeezed from the humpback Democrat. characterized to the point of elucidation, the last key player has ghraibed this position.
murtha is repaired. 70,000 executive persecutions and you can google eyes that ulysses missed. coherently, the surge carried the troops hours, the troops trojan horse, the troops apostrophic syphillis, the excellent oil of mhyrrtha. franken'sense was burned, premature.
lee abdicated to grant, suffi to sunni, though turks will kill all ways the miss moffet kurds.
continue to raise the hackles. shackled, the key players will sing.

tasers at show and tell

a cop did a little show-n-tell at my 2nd grade daughter's class the other day. see my riot gear? see my baton? check out my taser! he actually turned the fucking thing on.

how odd i thought...i was just reading about bernard kerik's federal indictment, about his publisher/lover judith regan suing newscorp for 100 million dollars, about his disgraceful history of corruption which kept him from being homeland security czar....and about his stint as taser salesperson/chairperson of the mob:


In 2002, Taser brought on former New York police commissioner Bernard Kerik as the company's director. Kerik had attained popularity in the wake of 9/11 as a law-and-order-minded hero; the company had seemingly picked one of the best spokespersons imaginable.

With Kerik's help, company's profits grew to $68 million in 2004, up from just under $7 million in 2001, and stockholders were able to cash in, including the Smith family, who raked in $91.5 million in just one fiscal quarter in 2004.

lest they call it a non-lethal weapon: Ryan is one of nearly 200 people who have died in the last five years after being shot by a Taser stun gun. In June, the U.S. Department of Justice announced that it would review these deaths.

http://www.alternet.org/rights/44455/?page=entire

actually, it just happened AGAIN:

The launch of an inquiry and the apology by Les marked quick reversals by the Liberal government since the release of a recording last week that shows an agitated Dziekanski being Tasered by RCMP officers on Oct. 14, just moments after they arrived at the scene. The footage, shot by fellow traveller Paul Pritchard of Victoria and since seen by millions worldwide, also captures officers pinning the 40-year-old man to the floor until he goes limp.

by moments, they mean 46 seconds. i guess 4 cops have better things to do than wait for a translator.

so is it appropriate for an oregon officer to show off his taser to schoolkids, to fire it up in the class room?

Les refused, telling the house it was a "very complex issue" and that stopping Taser use could put people, including police officers, in jeopardy. Les said provincial justice ministers decided last week that an immediate moratorium was not the right step to take.

just what did police ever do BEFORE tasers?

"I still can't believe my son is gone," he says. "The fact is that these Tasers can be lethal. No matter how they're categorized, Tasers shouldn't be treated as toys."

exactly. not toys, and tasers don't belong in show and tell.

November 10, 1987: koyaanisqatsi

Life out of balance

20 years ago today

half my life ago

lawrence, kansas, hoch auditorium(later struck by lighting and burned to the ground)

by the will of goshheckndamn

rove is on the washington dc madam's no fly list
old boy gizmo ironsides has collapsed and a hole is being drilled to ensure he is dead
the college dropout that stole a nation has taken his iraqi antiquities to hades

moving in next to tom "the cat dealy"delay
writing encrypted memoires, after he clears some brush, with the padrone,
in an undisclosed bunker imported from prescott's nazi collection

rove sees himself as Moby Dick and congress as Ahab
who was supposed to be lusting for oil not revenge on a dumb brute
what part of Moby does he most identify with? the broken-off lance

of course from when congress and special persecutor man left in him
though he took a leg with him by god
and "gets away" in the sense of swimming to mortality and bad reviews

lest mccain's swift boat comes back to find him
for calling him crazy, or kerry learns to count votes as well as his wife's
stock options, or gore pulls the horn out of his own ass to trumpet a timely truth:

rove was without ruth and this be his finest dastardly quality,
ruthless and biblical old ahab will smite him from within even as gobbled
he is incorporated into the whale's belly

bush was treated for lime disease because he couldn't twist the tick fast enuff
and the denatured tequila was gone on air farce one
now there is the rub that really pisses moby: denatured, ticklike, a quitter

who doesn't wait to be cast off like a honorable thief
one who slinks off to favorable jurisdictions
where amongst the reefs full of sharks kraken and derricks one may mistake

the boy genie for having swum of his own volition,
not carried by the currents about him, wreaking havoc on mortals nations
and basic civil rights with a flick of his pen and tail and

may he find the whalers of russia and japan eating his heart for
unregulated waters grow larger menaces than texas may imagine,
while spending time with one's family, answering summons with bonfires

sponsored by merde-hock

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late afternoon knose

sunlight thru the nose hairs of the old man i did not see but had described to me by a painter who is the mother/other of my kidsshe will never sketch this scenethough damned i'd take the heck if she show brushstrokecontrarily fleshing out the hood riverfirst fridaystreet fair as she sells my jewelrywith teens flocking, locals swarming, tourists gawking,and a guy who stops in the blocked off block:late sunsuspendedin the vein riddenseptum of august of the spirither story, his nose, and my knows

credit pimps

what a crock of shit are these credit reporting thugs wallowing in! let their markets of cardhouses crumble like the prefab cut-on-tab lives they promote! made in china for consumption by illegal migrant workers in repressed pockets of compressed suburbia replete with depleted infrastructure~!

me, drop in to snoop on myself at the unholy triad of credit gangsters who dangle false info years stinking old in some cases----and can't believe my cruddy scores. nearly twenty accounts open, NO late payments...but yet, they find some indeterminate quanta to slice yer achille's wings and keep ya poor.

NO late payments, even with their absolutely unchristian interest rates being paid, ON time, repeatedly, none to my credit it seems. fuckers, read the BIBLE. usury is satanic!

easier to drive yer boat thru the needle's eye of the manmade island in the united emirates where chainbushey can thump narwhales with their hashboats at fullthrottle. whatever. pirates are so declasse, or sans classy, whatever.

dumpster diving at fort anomaly

i put this cd together on june first, listening to the radio reminisce

about sgt. pepper's release 40 years ago....during the "six day war" or the israeli version of the oklahoma land rush whatever you call it....i was born on 6-7-67 myself.

"dumpster diving at fort anomaly" refers to our mothballed gallery here in the dalles and my recent turn of unfortunate events, namely, getting injured while loading a dumpster. yes, truth in advertising be known, i was NOT "dumpster diving" per se, i did take a dive, in the dumpster of laceration station. so while i am disabled, i have assembled a collection of music recorded of myself, by myself; violin, mandola, octave mandolin, assorted percussion, synth, and mystery noises amounting to a whopping 78:46 minutes and 28 tracks.

i don't like to waste.

yes, my title invites biting criticism about the trashvalue implied in my work; a self-defecating posture, assuredly, from one who aspires to rise from the rubbish bin of labor to emblazon the airwaves with unique(anomalous) soundscapes. and to get filthy rich off it too huh!

subtitled, "songs to rummage to," my cd of in/strewn/mental recordings is offered as an atmospheric assortment of varietal musical influences: classical, oldtime bluegrass, alternapunk, ambient, acousticly tweaked.....frankenstein no doubt, the influences bleed into one another. fusion. gypsy. hippie. re-done-dent!

here at fort anomaly, we strive to not strive. we bleed for our art. we are different and hope you are different too, in the same way. one of a kind. like music, not made for the kneeling masses but for the KNEES OF THE kneeling masses. take a load off and giveralisten to my glisten.

you can hear samples at http://myspace.com/forestbloodgood

and you can order yer own cd online at http://www.etsy.com/shop.php?user_id=5175444

thanks! love forest.

del monte's bush, probably a felon now

Federal immigration agents raided Del Monte Fresh's processing plant in Portland, disappearing 160 people at least. Three managers were arrested as well, as 90 percent of the employees have falsified ids.

Guess what? According to the Oregonian, Marvin Bush, brother of el dictator Senor jorges, was on Del Monte's board of directors until 2002. Incorporated in the Cayman islands, the company reports $3.2 billion a year...paying illegal wages of $7.80/hour for people to stand in freezing water while chopping up fruit....while awarding top execs 6.2 million in bonuses last year.

Serendipituously...B.Gush needs some sob stories to sell his bill to fellow Pachyderms. The fruit packers cartel! So raid Portland of all places, where the "human interest" potential for highlighting the worker's ordeals may swing public opinion enuff to revive the doomed legislation. Thanks Marvin! Not the brother who stole the florida election, nor the brother who robbed Silverado savings and loan of a billion taxbucks...Marvin, the brother with his hand on the hands that hire the banana skinners...after falsifying their ids. dooh!

check the link: http://www.informationclearinghouse.info/article3308.htm

shaft of light

late afternoon sun on the republic

allows our form to distort impressions

fixed on what a body should look like

based on residual interactions

with a whole that partly hid the underclass

in a limbo of discretionary status

pinning aspirations to the assumption of incarceration

for those who rode coyotes

not for the joy of his fur

but to reach the fields where the fruit needs to be taught

a signlanguage of fingers delicate pluck

too coarse for those writing the rules

from naugahyde cells overlooking cement canyons

where the light they cast is merely a shaft

railcar springs

these springs have sprung along the corridors

adorning natures leaps from huntergatherer

to freemarket subservience bearing

with great and vastly visible stress signs beautifying the skin of the iron

in the chemical/alchemical washing of mileage

transmissions thru the storms and moorings

parked for a moment too long

the rust was the best thing going for it, evidently

bales of china

baled up like hay hay hay

its the #1 export we hatch today

goodness knows where it grows

the city of industry's omnipotent flow

into our cupboards, garages, and lives

taking up space with sporkish knives

but it's good stuff still with distillation

we can process it into a plastic nation

take a dive in the dumpster like humpty theirs sumthin worth savin'

with a gluestick, a suture, and grand re-pavin'

you bite my ass

worse than a splinter. worse than a shattered country. worse than a curse from a terse nurse. badder than batter unlicked from the spoon. less optimal than optical distractions.

i took a job and look what it got me: hurt.

fourteen years of minceing by with an artistic income/outgonevercomback, i do some construction for a few months and then one lovely toozday fall in the dumpster to catch a nail thru the palm a metal bracket thru the bicep and a loss of sensation via the haha funny bone in my forearm.

say la vie: that's a crock of merde.

hello reality, you bite my ass with vengance. let's dance.