October 23, 2006
balconies with stills
It feels good to have covered some real territory today. The computer is running again, very well and the Norton Internet Security does its job equally well. I am quite proud of myself right now, as you may be able to judge through the tone of my writing. And why not?
The thing is, one has to write things when one has the mood and the will to do so or else the dross is what gets published and the distilled is that which doesn’t.
Speaking of distilling spirits, I’d like to imagine that there be one, there is a still in no mans’ land, beneath a rather large rock, in the shadow of a singled out palm, beside the Dubai’s or confined to my balcony at least.
What with ethanol and percentages lethal of methanol that even a crude boiler could not reach in ten thousand years of boiling the yield of drinkable still far far outweighs the yield of lethal.
Yes, yes, a man’s capacity for methanol is low indeed but you’d have to be a red man with Lysol in your mit to appreciate just how much you DO need ta kill ya!
And so the dream of distilling one’s own cleaner gasoline in one’s own homemade/kit still, continue on in this middle aged head of mine. I can’t bear the thought of letting such a low key underhanded, protest “idea”, agin the state of current affairs and current location – that is under the regulation as it were of this banner called ‘Slam, go, you know?
The thing is, one has to write things when one has the mood and the will to do so or else the dross is what gets published and the distilled is that which doesn’t.
Speaking of distilling spirits, I’d like to imagine that there be one, there is a still in no mans’ land, beneath a rather large rock, in the shadow of a singled out palm, beside the Dubai’s or confined to my balcony at least.
What with ethanol and percentages lethal of methanol that even a crude boiler could not reach in ten thousand years of boiling the yield of drinkable still far far outweighs the yield of lethal.
Yes, yes, a man’s capacity for methanol is low indeed but you’d have to be a red man with Lysol in your mit to appreciate just how much you DO need ta kill ya!
And so the dream of distilling one’s own cleaner gasoline in one’s own homemade/kit still, continue on in this middle aged head of mine. I can’t bear the thought of letting such a low key underhanded, protest “idea”, agin the state of current affairs and current location – that is under the regulation as it were of this banner called ‘Slam, go, you know?
October 22, 2006
accomodation
Propel thy self towards destiny! Reap the rewards of perseverance! Stand tall among the native shorts. Run swiftly through the glades of green, green grass and breathe deep the sense of purity that wafts through the space and time you currently habit. Know that destiny wends it way towards your open heart. Understand that through these doldrums your ship without billowy sail will pass and catch the unseen wind beyond that which is knowable or doable except that it be done in the future tense.
Of what do I speak? Of things left undone during the lows and those things passing due to having no way to accommodate them on a meager budget of both Cash and Time. No way to accommodate, for example the buying of a present for a two year old because the cost of staying here without accommodation paid for is EXHORBITANT! No way to accommodate the pending electricity bill.
No way to accommodate even our own selfish reasoning about the staying or leaving this place – whether it be right for us or not to move out from here and travel the 35 minutes required into the vast desert into Dibba village for scant less than ¼ of the price. Why not? It is not permenant? We could have easily made do at least until the concrete on a new job was set, no?
These are questions moot. The way we live becomes the way we pay for the way we live and it renders us in waiting breadwinners useless as yet un-split amoebae. Couch dwellers anonymous. TV channel clickers bisplintovous. And Islamic purple haze of Ramadan and Eid choke the living daylights out of survivalist me while I wait….
Of what do I speak? Of things left undone during the lows and those things passing due to having no way to accommodate them on a meager budget of both Cash and Time. No way to accommodate, for example the buying of a present for a two year old because the cost of staying here without accommodation paid for is EXHORBITANT! No way to accommodate the pending electricity bill.
No way to accommodate even our own selfish reasoning about the staying or leaving this place – whether it be right for us or not to move out from here and travel the 35 minutes required into the vast desert into Dibba village for scant less than ¼ of the price. Why not? It is not permenant? We could have easily made do at least until the concrete on a new job was set, no?
These are questions moot. The way we live becomes the way we pay for the way we live and it renders us in waiting breadwinners useless as yet un-split amoebae. Couch dwellers anonymous. TV channel clickers bisplintovous. And Islamic purple haze of Ramadan and Eid choke the living daylights out of survivalist me while I wait….
October 21, 2006
Truth
I swear to you, I made it all up completely.
Jonny Islam, Joe Arab
Jonny Islam, Joe Arab
