Wonderful People Gave Me An Award #1

A picture of the award I was awarded

The Word ‘Love’ Has Appeared Here Several Times Recently… Weird…

INTRO/DISCLAIMER

While I wasn’t looking, this here web-log thing that you might be reading right now has been awarded/nominated-for (whatever the correct phrase is) TWO web-log awards in the space of one week.

Now, I still don’t know how I feel about these things, BUT, someone whose words I have enjoyed on their web-log, and/or had pleasurable and mutually consensual commentariat intercourse with has taken the time and interest to express positive vibes toward me, so I WILL EMBRACE IT, and say THANK YOU!

That shit takes TIME, and it takes ENERGY.

So I’m all about acknowledging that kind of effort somehow, where I can.

That’s just the kind of guy I am…

 

THANKS!

Anyway…  THANK YOU, sincerely, to bekitschig for nominating this web-log for ‘The Infinity Dreams Award’.  Yep, you heard that right.  Check out the picture above; it’s a real thing, and it was nominated toward this place here.  Muchas Gracias!! (a thousand apologies if I completely cocked up the Español…)

bekitschig produces a beautifully eclectic web-log that celebrates all things ‘kitsch’ (funnily enough!), and is well worth a visit, if only for eye-candy value.  Kitsch, as a social/psychological phenomenon, is far more pervasive than we might remember – at least, that’s what my visits to bekitschig have left me with; kitsch is everywhere, man!  Go visit!

 

RULES

[Web-log awards have ‘rules’.  I hate rules.  But they are a partly necessary thing in life and society, as I understand it.]

Thank and follow the blog that nominated you. {*tick!* – done!}

Tell us 11 facts about yourself. {read on below}

Answer the questions that were set for you to answer. {read on below}

Nominate 11 bloggers and set questions for them. {as above so below}

 

11 Things About Myself (oh, gear dog, help…)

I’m just going to let these pour out.  If, later, I find this list somehow embarrassing, I will edit it accordingly and *make the offending item disappear from the interwebs forever*.

  1. I am a Taurus/Earth/Ox, in a mash-up of various primitive star-worshiping soothsaying belief systems, of which I am not an adherent, although their combined supposed attributes somehow justify my characteristics/quirks/failings.
  2. I used to call myself an ‘atheist’, but ‘agnostic’ is a much more apt term.  I don’t claim to know anything about what really makes things tick.
  3. I am exceedingly impatient about most things, while somehow being able to appear as though I am a very patient individual.
  4. I value all life, and the concepts of peaceable freedom, universal liberty, global peace, and justice for all sentient beings, very very very highly. [‘sentient’ includes plants and fungi, which implies that my idea of justice involves eating these beings alive or dead, cooked or raw; and something about that just seems a little hypocritical…]
  5. I am an idealistic, naïve, wishful-thinking, and therefore impractical and delusional, person.
  6. I don’t believe most things that are said or written.
  7. I very much believe that the planet we are on is being played like a game of brutal and lawless chess by entities (most likely just particularly evil humans) who are very much undeserving of that privilege.
  8. I am a high-functioning multi-addict fond of an array of alkaloids and molecules.  Choose your poison, umm, intelligently-administered dose of trusted stimulant.
  9. I still don’t really know why I persist with this here web-log.  It’s purpose is, clearly, unclear.  However I find it a valuable outlet and medium for interaction with an array of faceless and valued humans that I have (mostly) never met.
  10. I have seen what’s behind some of the curtains, and still can’t make sense of any of it.
  11. I think maybe I’ve said too much…

 

Answer The Questions That Were Set
  1. Tea or coffee – Coffee.  Almost exclusively.
  2. Clinton or Trump? – Can’t vote for either (being non-US).  Trump is obviously just a dangerous human circus, wreaking havoc.  I would like to see him somehow shamed and relegated to the dust of history.  Clinton, well…  Can you Americans just all take a punt on the old guy and get Bernie Sanders across the line?  Seems he might want to do something good…  Or just have a big old civil war again and sort out your bipolar-ness…
  3. Cd’s or vinyl?CD’s for convenience, though now almost totally usurped by digital files.  I love vinyl, though, and have an eclectic collection of long-playing records and singles/EP’s on consumer-grade and heavyweight vinyl.
  4. Smart or 4WD? – Have to say 4WD at this time (on bio-diesel if I can).  With hopes of having an electric-drive all-terrain/town car/convertible/sports coupé in the garage one day.
  5. WordPress or Facebook? – WordPress.  Absolutely.
  6. Art or Kitsch? – Kitschy art?  Arty kitsch?
  7. Screaming it out or sitting it out? – I will do either, depending on the situation.
  8. Planning your goals or accept your fait? – Destiny is probably a thing, so I like to ‘roll with it’.
  9. Opportunistic or idealistic? – Idealistic.
  10. Black and white or shades of grey? – Black and white, mostly.
  11. Cats or dogs? – Cats inside.  Dogs outside.

 

Nominate 11 Bloggers and Set Questions For Them

Here I am going to exploit a suite of loopholes exposed by my crack legal team…

My nominations are TOTALLY UNDER NO OBLIGATION TO DO ANYTHING, however THEIR NOMINATION IS OFFICIAL AND REAL, but CAN BE ACCEPTED PURELY AS A TOTALLY-NON-SYCOPHANTIC SHOUT-OUT because I have found something valuable in their web-logging outputs and just want whoever reads this to maybe go and find something valuable there for themselves.

In no particular order, [drum roll] my nominations for this burst of ‘The Infinity Dreams Award’ are [/drum roll]:

  1. Assholes Watching Movies
  2. Mental Break – In Progress
  3. Donzo’s Guerilla Graffica and Donzo’s Dreamtime (joint nomination, as per a loophole)
  4. The Lonely Tribalist
  5. Content Catnip
  6. Tubularsock
  7. Prague Pot
  8. William Chasterson
  9. I Read Encyclopedias For Fun
  10. Smelly Tongues
  11. Ink and Quill

The “no particular order” was actually me just going back and forth in time looking through comments left here, which helped me to assemble this list of nominees.  And I have ‘interfered’ with the process to make the list quite diverse – yes, I’m a vote rigger…

All the nominees can, IF THEY SO CHOOSE, submit themselves to The Rules and also answer the following questions if they decide that they’d like to post something on their own web-log about being nominated for a web-log award (and holy cheebus, if they’ve read this far I wouldn’t expect anyone would have the energy left to do so…), but here are your ELEVEN questions! (which you can also feel free to simply answer by way of a comment here – the easy way to get out of any perceived need to post about this yourself[!]):

  1. Beer, wine, cider, or spirits?
  2. Driver or passenger?
  3. Night owl or early-bird?
  4. Hopeful, pessimistic, or cynical?
  5. Dreamer or doer?
  6. Action or relaxation?
  7. Cereal, toast, or sans breakfast?
  8. Do you eat enough fruit and vegetables?
  9. Do you drink enough water?
  10. Sneeze explosively, or hold it back?
  11. Work to live, or live for (your) work?

SO. MUCH. WORDS!  Now to wait and see if the ping/track/echolocator system in here actually works and my nominees get told how wonderful they are… And, so many other deserving blogs that I could have included (out of the over 730 that I have clicked ‘Follow’ on since I joined in with this crazy thing), but you know, rules are rules, and all that…  Maybe next time…?  Speaking of which, hold out for the next installment of ‘Wonderful People Gave Me An Award‘…  COMING SOOOON…

Thanks again, bekitschig.  That was fine, but I’m totally beat now.  So much words.  So many letters.  So much grammar…

Cheers y’all!

Wick Burner

Featured Image -- 1439

Nobody’s going to fantasize about Jerry Hall now, boasts Murdoch

“liver-spotted antipodean toad” – Love it!
Reblogged, with muchos thanks, from Flibbertigibbet News.
Click through to read the original >> >>

Flibbertigibbet News

Anyone who once carried a flame for the Texan socialite, is now facing the unpleasant prospect of a liver-spotted antipodean toad leering into view.  Not content with listening in to our phone calls, Rupert Murdoch’s liaison with Ms. Hall will ensure that he now enters into the subconscious of all males who ever envied Mick Jagger’s love-life during the 70s.

Mr. Murdoch Mr. Murdoch

Announcing their forthcoming nuptials and Mr. Murdoch’s inevitable funeral, the loved-up pair spoke of their shared love modelling and Press Inquiries.  Ms. Hall, who famously advised all women to a ‘be a maid in the living room, a cook in the kitchen and a whore on Page Three’, can now look forward to three happy years of marriage and thirty affluent years of bereavement.

For Ms.Hall this relationship is a natural musical progression; from the avant-garde Bryan Ferry to the rock’n’roll Jagger and finally to jazz-funk fusion that…

View original post 86 more words

Zika Tweets – Don’t Panic

 

 

 

 

 

I’m just a bit suspicious…  So I won’t panic.

Cheers,

Wiki Feel The Berner

Featured Image -- 1432

HIGH SOCIETY: The Model-T Was Designed to Run on Hemp Fuel – Which Henry Ford Grew

Reblogged, with thanks, from RIELPOLITIK. Please click through to read at their site:

RIELPOLITIK

Source – thehempire.com

– Rudolf Diesel, the inventor of the diesel engine, designed it to run on vegetable and seed oils like hemp; he actually ran the thing on peanut oil for the 1900 World’s Fair. Henry Ford used hemp to not only construct cars but also fuel them:

When Henry Ford told a New York Times reporter that ethyl alcohol was “the fuel of the future” in 1925, he was expressing an opinion that was widely shared in the automotive industry. “The fuel of the future is going to come from fruit like that sumach out by the road, or from apples, weeds, sawdust — almost anything,” he said. “There is fuel in every bit of vegetable matter that can be fermented. There’s enough alcohol in one year’s yield of an acre of potatoes to drive the machinery necessary to cultivate the fields for a hundred years.”

Henry Ford’s…

View original post 891 more words

SITREP, Thanks and Hello

Self Portrait on The Gold Coast

Self Portrait on The Gold Coast

So, I’ve just returned, in the real world, tonight, from a week-long vacation to the subtropical wilds of the Brisbane region, some 1,500kms (~900+ miles) from home.  But now I’m back, and I’m already well-inebriated and right back in the groove.  Inspired by my mild intoxication, I thought a Situation Report of some sort was in order.

Firstly – Thanks! & Hello! (not necessarily in that order):

Hello(!) to new ‘followers’ (there has to be a better word for it, surely…), and thanks for stopping by and chancing your arm at maybe reading something else I write here in the future, which might actually be this, which is now actually in the past, if you’re reading it, now….

But seriously, Thank You.  And the same goes for connections here tapping me on Twitter.

Thanks also to Danny at Dream Big, Dream Often, who recently featured this here web-log on his appropriately-titled ‘Featured Bloggers‘ series.  I don’t recall paying him any money to include a link on the list, but he did it anyway, and that is greatly appreciated.  You bloggy people should click those linky things and visit…

Thank you also, somewhat belatedly, to Jason the Opinionated Man of HarsH ReaLiTy fame, who reblogged a rant of mine some time ago, and crashed my Windows ’95 server arrays with a cascade of referred visitors, the likes of which remain un-equalled in modern history.  Likewise, blogsters, and anyone else, clicky clicky linky thingy

Finally, thank you to bekitschig at bekitschig, who nominated this place for ‘one of those WordPress awards‘, which I may or may not participate in fully or partly once I’ve thought about it, but I am always exceptionally pleased to be nominated for anything and thank you immensely, bekitschig, for doing so and for your kind words about this thing here while you were doing so!

Finally, finally,  thanks and appreciation to ‘The Regulars’, who they themselves know themselves as such, for continuing to entertain a reading and a commenting and an interchanging of pleasantries and conversation always of a pleasing nature and producing incessantly fine works themselves which I am pleased to have discovered.

— END OF GRATUITIES —

While up in the higher sub-tropics in recent days I made two new friends;  the first was one of the little geckos that inhabited the rear patio:

'Fluoro Gecko'

I Shall Call Him ‘Fluoro Gecko’

And the second was a ~25cm (10 inch) phasmid, which I think was a Titan stick insect, the largest species of stick insect in Australia, with young on its back, also visiting me in my holiday chill-zone:

'Stella' the Stick Insect

‘Stella’ the Stick Insect

A shout-out to Fluoro and Stella; Hope you’re hanging tough in the humids and damps and oppressive sticky heats…

Some distance away from where I was staying and at a time I was away from there, I was fortunate enough to witness the horrendously offensive locale known as Surfers Paradise being devoured alive by an angry fog-breathing Pacific Ocean working in tandem with an equally-angry sky.  This was just the entrée:

A photo of Surfers Paradise being eaten by the Pacific Ocean

Saline Pacific Ocean Mist Began To Melt The Concrete & Glass

It got a lot worse (or better, depending on your perspective) very quickly, and I had to leave very quickly because electricity was falling out of the clouds at the speed of light.

And on my flight from OOL to MEL tonight, I was reading On The Road, as one does, and there is a line toward the end of chapter 2 in part 2 that goes like this:

Dean had a sweater wrapped around his ears to keep warm.  He said we were a band of Arabs coming in to blow up New York.

It’s really interesting where some ideas originate from…

Catch you next time I write something or you write something or I stalk you even though you haven’t or you stalk me even though I haven’t, or…

Yours in reportage of situations and happenings and saying howdy and thanks y’all,

Wick Burner

Conversations With The Universe #2

The Warm & Inviting Void _________________________ Fuzzball image from: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fuzzball_(string_theory)#/media/File:Black_Hole_Milkyway.jpg

The Warm & Inviting Void
_________________________
Fuzzball image from: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fuzzball_(string_theory)#/media/File:Black_Hole_Milkyway.jpg

New original continuated stream-of-consciousness intoxicated fiction or is it fiction…  Who knows where this is going?  Nobody.  I’m just gonna spill it and then stop.  Enjoy.  WB

©ONVERSATIONS WITH THE UNIVERSE – continued

Time has always been meaningless.  This became completely apparent; and I’m aware now, as I was then, that that sentence cannot make any sense whatsoever because something without meaning cannot really have dominion over something as OMNI as The Universe.

And double negatives and contradictions and etcetera.

But there are rules that govern how the artificial construct of time is imposed onto matter, and these cannot be broken without first severing oneself from matter.  And nobody could possibly explain that. No-one.

But that’s what had happened to me as I did nothing more than exist as a mindful concept with my arachnid friend, the nameless spider, in my warm and loving non-existence on a journey of immense everything.

*The reader here must acknowledge that explanations of what transpired while The Universe and I were sharing this state simply cannot adequately describe it/them/anything.  Words, themselves a crude and primitive method of communication…  Words just don’t cut it – at least, not the words spoken with instruments of flesh.  But that is all we have here, so I’ll persist.

In the embrace of the top-hat-wearing Universal Tour Guide spider – far more appealing in non-matter reality than anyone could imagine – for a micro-second or so, probably (and if that even has any meaning at all), I was ‘transported’ through a billion or more coincident Universes and saw and felt and understood everything that had ever happened or will happen everywhere in all of them forever.  And all of them began, and died and were re-born as a result of an idea generated within themselves; or call it a thought, or call it a word, or The Word, or Intelligence, or Desire, or Love, or ‘God’.  And it was continuous and ongoing, and it had really been happening forever and not had a beginning or a bang or a god, at all.  It just was because nothing cannot exist because there can be no such thing as nothing – as long as there is anything there will be everything.

Matter cannot exist without life and life creates and manipulates matter in order to continue living and producing new life from matter, onto and into matter.  Matter yearns to live and life wants more life because life is thought and ideas and experience and creation and there is no higher state of goodness.

In so many ways the old mantra of us all being star-dust or made of stars is the truth.  But all of the important things that really drive life and matter are INSIDE and AROUND and WITHIN and INFUSED THROUGHOUT the things we can see/feel/detect/observe.  Whether it’s quanta or strings or sub-quark or grand united theory of irrelativity, give it any name you like, the force and the energy and the structure and the framework of everything known and unknown is only the invisible drive of life using matter for its own ends.

All of these things made sense to me; just as they would never make sense to a dogmatic scientist or priest.  For those shallow and closed minds the mere prospect of these things has dark connotations and deprives them of the comfort derived from their beliefs.

And the spider spoke then.  “All of everything is just thoughts from futures and the futures of your thoughts.  We’re all creating our own histories and building new Universes.  Every time you die, an infinite number of other versions of you continue to live in an infinite number of other Universes.  Try to remember that.  We’ll be seeing each other again some day, always, in countless ways, unless you crush me underfoot in that particular Universe…”

“Speaking of which, what’s a spider ever done to you, anyway..?”

With that, my entire being felt as though it was being vacuumed back into itself and squeezed in a galaxy-sized vice, and I was flooded with what felt like the panicked heat and pressure of needing to breathe but being unable to.  I was in darkness for what seemed like a full minute until I remembered that I had eyes that needed to be open in order to see, and when I re-learned how to do just that I saw that I was back inside a flesh body with sweat pouring from every part of it, and the reflex to bring great volumes of air into the lungs finally kicked in.

I was alive, in this Universe.  At least, I think I was.  Or was this now another?

Lifted to my feet by other humans who I couldn’t readily remember but loved so much, I was guided to a seat outside in the crisp late-autumn air and given some water to drink.  As memories and clarity began slowly to return to the brain inside my head, it occurred to me that there was already so much of the rich detail of this journey missing from my recall, and that maybe I would lose it all and that it might all have been for nothing…

and a large black spider, about the size of a large hand, ran across my right foot, leapt over and onto my left foot, and bit hard into my flesh with fangs that felt like hot nails.  It scurried off me and then slowly, and very deliberately, walked away.

 

T.B.C… one day…

 

Yours,

Wick Burner

Conversations With The Universe #1

Big Cold And Empty... Hubble image from NASA and STScI

Big Cold And Empty…
______________________
Hubble image from NASA and STScI

New original stream-of-consciousness intoxicated fiction or is it fiction…  Who knows where this will go?  Not I.  Strap yourself in.  WB

©ONVERSATIONS WITH THE UNIVERSE

He had no name, the large black spider wearing a top-hat and sitting opposite me at a large table – much as most people have no name for the voice of their internal monologue, the voice in their head, usually.  He had no name, and we had never met, before now.  He had no name and we had never met but we knew each other in some profoundly deep way that made me think of Siamese twins and how they would just know everything about each other.

So the nameless arthropod creature – who I knew so deeply, and who knew me so deeply, and who was wearing a top-hat, and who should ordinarily have scared me almost to death at the first glimpse of his immense bizarre anthropomorphic arachnoid-ness – had sat me down at his table.  He knew why I was there, he told me, and how I had come to be there.  He told me we should talk.  He told me it was time.

I was having a hard enough time breathing, let alone comprehending why I was in what seemed to be a chamber of sorts in a very large cave of sorts and why an 8 foot tall spider wearing a top-hat was talking to me and why I felt so multi-level connected to this impossible arachnid.  My throat and lungs were hot and clogged up with something thick and wet, and I rocked back hard in the chair I had managed to get myself onto to try and dislodge whatever was interfering with my routine ventilation.

After some short time I was able to slow my breathing and look around me.  Certain little memories came into my head.  Most of what I could see was simply darkness, but high above and behind me was a soft glow that pulsated invitingly.  To my front was the big table, made of wood of some sort, about 12 foot across and so wide I could not see either end of it as it faded into the black distance to my left and my right.  Across from me the spider sat, bathed in the flickering glow of two candles, one on each side of him, in big stone holders.  Most everything else was dark.  It felt like we were surrounded on all sides by cold stone, and it seemed like an echo chamber.  I could hear my own heart-beat bouncing off a thousand different surfaces and arriving inside my head at slightly different times, only split seconds apart.

In one of those split seconds, I flashed back to before I was in here, and I was drinking from the tiny wooden cup being held to my lips and the bitter fluid filled my mouth and burned its way down my gullet and all I wanted to do was regurgitate all of my viscera.  The reflexive action wrenched the inner me out of my flesh body and birthed me into this place.  What had they given me?  This was so much more intense and real and rapid than any other journey I’d been on.  And now I realised that I felt absolutely no desire to breathe in and couldn’t recall the last breath I had taken, and I was almost sure now that maybe I had died.  I actually asked myself that question, “Have I just died?”, out loud at that moment, and I was brought back from my little memory of imbibing the tonic that conceived this by the voice of the spider…

I understand now, he told me.  That I was brought to this place of my own volition.  I had chosen to take it all in and immediately shed the physical.  My quest had commenced, he told me.  And his voice was unlike anything I had ever heard, and my heart melted as I welled up with uncontrollable and overflowing seam-splitting love, like everything I was made of was suddenly full of tears and it would burst me open and flood the world.

“Welcome”, said the spider.  “Welcome to The Universe.  I will show you everything.”

And I lost all connection then with all feelings associated with my physical body and became just an idea existing in that space with my new friend the spider, The Universal tour guide.  I was a living idea and I was nothing and I was everything and I was devoid of questions and everything in me was an answer to questions not yet asked.

A billion light years of knowledge of life and growth and creation and destruction cascaded through me, through the idea that was me, and infused itself in me and brought me into its warm loving centre.

This was home.

 

TO BE CONTINUED….

 

Yours,

Wick Burner