Hiatus: Submerge.

"I am just an ancient drummer-boy.
And in the wars
I used to play.
And I've called a tune,
To many a tortured session."

Dire Straits, and it doesn't get much better than that.  Knopfler knows his shit.  He could mud-poop and it'd be an incredible song.


The best thing about "this whole thing, about this blog" is that NO ONE reads this, or admits as much.  215 unique hits. and only a paltry two comments in 18 months.   I'm suckin up time like it ain't no thing.  Do I have to stick a needle in you?  Your mama wears Army boots!

I don't care, but I'm still here.  MUTHAFUCKAHS  YAAAWW!  (Who is that?  Way off?)
"Way off" is such a weird construct.
Yeah, you're out there.  Ar'n't we all?  This Sagittarus Arm gets boring...

You should go somewhere else.

It's odd to refer to oneself in the 3rd Person, but THIS Klargen isn't miffed, he's energized.
He's goin' "free-form."  You've been warned, Fair Readers.  I'm relatively sure you'll all be alright.
I skipped a lot of rocks across glass-smooth, inter-tidal saltwater a few weeks ago, so...  :)
Kick Ass.  (Nor-Cal, babies.  I lived it.  I KNOW it.)




"I love the night,
The day is okay
But I live to see those rays slip away."

from Blue Oyster Cult's magnificent "I Love the Night"



I rapidly shuffled through the detritus/shit piled up in my old mind, before that transfer from Durd'n, and I was disappointed.  All my indulgences.  My urges.  My ego.  My old loves.
They seemed silly by comparison.  Durd'n had a life and then some.
My Greys were alert, but relaxed, and we all ambled toward the newly-opened space of the lime-green light in the polished wall.  Durd'n moved remarkably fast for his form.
The spectacular novelty of his shared memories became clear to me, all of a sudden, from out of nowhere.  Olfactory clues about proximity, constantly mixing fluids and gasses swirling, swishing.  Faint whiffs of 'others.'  A life of seemingly perfect solitude with intense smatterings of social interactions, the kind that left scars and torn limbs.
I git it.
He's a fucking interstellar space lobster, endlessly old by our standards, used to the shit.
I had to respect that.  The door shushed quietly behind us as we entered AMHRF, at Level Seven.
"XO,you still there."
"Aye, Klargen, no EMF or magnetic interference.  Utmost caution is advised."
"Right on."  I pushed that I wasn't worried, but he probably already knew it.
I knew the repairs would be made, to our mutual satisfaction (the whale-song data in exchange,) and I awaited the moment the Tinglev started humming the right note.

I was tuned in.




"There's no time for us,
There's no place for us,
What is this thing,
That builds our dreams,
Yet slips away from us?
Who wants to live forever?
Who wants to live forever?

There's no chance for us,
It's all decided for us,
This world has only one sweet moment
Set aside for us."

Queen, "Who Wants to Live Forever?"

So I have to, respectfully, take a petite break from this blog/column to re-write the insipid Beatrix novel that I wrote 20 years ago - which I will adapt to a hawt new screenplay - that creates the movie you all buy tickets to see, in roughly three years.  Millions will ensue.  

I seen't it.  It has ALREADY happened.

The carefully calculated trajectory is set.  The anvil words, the constant fall of familiar letters, the painfully relevant memories, the fantastic Jungian symbols, et al, are known.  Distilled, to a lush core.  The basic story is set, unless those pesky characters do "their own thing."  (Sometimes written embodiments do that.  It's weird.  Really weird.)

And I know the ending, but I won't share it here.  Yet.  (Buy the book, and see the movie.  It'll be awesome, given the CGI capabilities of modern film-making.  Dragonflies, action, romance, and cool spiritual shit.  A Jungian epic is what I'm 'not' aiming for, so I'll hit it.)

"Oh, somebody's happy to give you love

Your love - your love..."

Journey's "Happy to Give"  (never gets old to me)




Is it just me, or does it seem that some of the 'truths' of our lives eventually fade away and die?  Missed connections, late trains, trombone sounds, polar bears, and the feel of deep affections lost.  The inaudible sighs of overly acidic coral reefs saying "Enough already, Jeesh."  They just bleach out and die.
You know what I'm getting at - this isn't a pissing contest that I know I'll win - because I'm good at pissing.
Or maybe you don't know.  If you are paying attention at all, everything dies, and it isn't something you recover from.



To Those Who Actually Read This:
I'm gonna be busy with the novel.  (If YOU are reading this, Beatrix, ALL will be revealed.  I DID give you the chance to explore the riches, but you rejected it by default.  Silence is so simple.)    I'll publish excerpts in another/related blog.
You'll all be alright.

Because that is all I wish for.  Deity forbid that my Fair Readers have any harm or malice meander their ways, because I'll be in a bubble and I can't 'activate' without alarums...

Let me know.  I'll be writing.

But not here.

Hugs to the world.  And to those guys that most of the world doesn't know about, I offer thanks.  You've at least been (imaginarily) there.

I already know the last line of the novel.

Do you?

Klargen & The De-Briefing

Greetings and Salutations, Minions of Literary Chaos!

I'm getting too familiar with the sound of beating pistons, wind breaking past worn weather-stripping, and the dull rumble of the road.  I know where the potholes are now.




My mind swam within Durd'n's ocean of consciousness.  It was vast.  Almost too much to take in and process.
As curious as I was, I just stood there and pondered thoughts about his world and probably looked like a zombie/walker on the pristine deck of AMHRF.  (He had backed away and my Greys had moved to my flanks in loose formation, still straightening their Order Blue tunics on habit.  They privated to me that they were ready, albeit a bit confused.)
I found myself correcting my balance, as well.
So many directions to go...  so many memories to probe and test.  As they say, "Plinkex pat neburb elg pinz bastor."  (BAHAHAHA!  I always chuckle when I hear that.  It never gets old.)
His home planet was strikingly odd, liquids and gasses didn't behave in conventional ways, to our human knowledge.  What light that reached his planet was tremendously diffuse and often unreliable, and appeared as chaotic flashes of pale-green.  Temperature wasn't reasonably constant or predictable, as well.  Magnetism was apparently a visual range; even slight fields or aberrations were within his species' normal range of cognition.

The XO privated to me that the repairs were not significant, but may be time-consuming.  Perhaps as long as a few hours.
I privated this to Durd'n, and he replied that he already knew.
So I wandered in his mind.


"Love, I get so lost sometimes.
Days pass,
And this emptiness fills my heart.
When I want to run away
I drive off in my car.
But whichever way I go 
I come back to the place you are.

All my instincts
They return
The grand facade
So soon will burn
Without a noise
Without my pride, 
I reach out
From the inside..."

Peter Gabriel, "In Your Eyes"  (at Day 7797 since sane interaction.)




Pass the fucking mashed potatoes.  Don't buy helium balloons anymore.  Lick stamps while you still can.  See a polar bear, maybe offer your body to it, if that is an option.

Where the bejeezus are we going with this?

Fuck it, my Sweet Readers.  Klargen's De-Briefing can wait.  Tonight's topic is "My Particular Faults."

This may be a long list, and some of my thousands of readers may not see some of the sarcasm here.

1.  I am obsessive/compulsive, at times.  (No, you are.)
      A)  Not in any straight-up harmful way, but I do have 'safety' issues with regard to some work conditions (big ladders, spinning carbide/diamond blades, petro-toxins) or just about anything involving higher speeds, if I am not in control.  I can smell chaos like its a captured garter snake in a Tupperware container.  That shit is so obvious.
     B)  I don't OCD on useless shit.  I OCD on obvious hypocrisy.  Obvious inconsistency.  Obvious bullshit.  Obvious lameness.  (This is, obviously, not the world for a dragon-slayer.  Sigh.)

2.  I am narcissistic.  But not in a conventional way.
     A)  Took an IQ test, my Mom timed it and everything, when I was 13.  Edmonds, WA.  The results explained a lot of things.  This is in the days before the Internet, so we'd mailed it off.  Took weeks for the number.  I can't disagree with it, it 'is what it is.'
    B)  I'm not narcissistic because I'm pretty.  That isn't a problem I have.  I have some sort of presence, but doesn't everyone?
    C)  Sometimes, I see/visualize things other people may have problems conceptualizing, before they happen.  That's the easiest way to put that.  Accidents don't happen 'all the sudden' and most things follow their trajectories.  Most things.
   
3.  I have the curse of videographic memory.  (It's great replaying movies in my head, or poignant songs, or actual simmering memories, like having sex with those I've had sex with, but it makes me miss people I haven't seen in a while, now and again.)
     A)  Some would say it is not a curse.  But with regard to interpersonal relationships, it is, at times.
     B)  Memories are remarkably persistent, especially if they have a significant emotional potential to them.  I watched a friend bleed out - crushed cranium - in 1988, and he died in my sight.  I remember the last thing I said to him, and where, when, why, and the direction his feet were in.  I was giving him shit for 'sleeping on the job.'  And I watched him join the Big Dirt Nap Club.  Maybe I'll forgive myself for that sarcasm someday.
     C)  I can replay almost anything I've experienced.  If it was important, I can see/hear nearly everything.  (And remember my mood, the aromas, the beer/wine I drank before, the local fauna.)
     D)  Sea turtles are fascinating to be near.  So curious.  Ditto crows/ravens.  Dogs, of course.  A few cats have been close buddies, as well.

4.  I was a late bloomer, and I still feel young in my head.
     A)  This is only a hormone issue, perhaps.  My system may be a bit enfolded.  I sure don't feel like I'm in my late 40's.  My body ages, nonetheless.  Inevitability arises.  It has a certain aim.
     B)  I still hit it hard at work when the situation calls for it, which it often does.  Dragons must be slain.  That really is the ultimate credo.
     B.2)  I'm pretty sure I could still 'cause a ruckus.'  That's all I'm gonna say about that.  Those who know, know.
     B.3)  Dance and life and fight are all one and the same.  Passion is everything.  And cowardice steals and picks away at passion.  It eventually decimates it.  Fight cowardice.  Embrace passion.
     B.4)  Challenge the challenge.  (say it with a French accent, if you can.)
     C)  I may be losing hair but I'm gaining the kind of wisdom 'they' write about.  White whales, all that shit.  My peculiar obsessions may be the end of me, but it'll be a fun ride, so I board this ride without reservation.  I want one of those wing-suits.  I will jump off something someday, because I don't care for heights.  That's what it's all about.  Defeating fears.  Whup that shit, I say.

5.  I am emotionally tortured by my non-existent relationship with a former lover.  (Been over this, so fuck any elucidation.  She's still the only woman I ever asked to marry me.)

SIDENOTE:  And that always sets me off into another, gloomier place.  Thinking about her derails anything I'm concentrating upon.
Not in the mood tonight.
She doesn't have any interest in fixing her fuck-ups.  So I have to make shit up.


Like this:


I got an email from her, amazing!  Very brief.  She wants to have a talk.
Hard to believe, but she's gonna call me on Saturday, March 16 at 10:18pm.  She knows my number, Seattle area code + 351-5369.

If my phone rings, I'll be amazed.
They say you should visualize your future.  What would I say to her.  What would I want to hear from her?  Would that help at all?  Is she even real?  What do I want?
Gonna work on that.

I love my delusions.  They're so cozy.  Pillows for the psyche.