New Blog

Dear Readers,

Due to the completely inadequate service offered to me thus far from Echo, the overtakers of Haloscan, I have decided to start a new blog because I cannot figure out how to get the a-holes off of my blog so I can post comments easily.

pudgyindian3-eugene.blogspot.com

Having put up the demanded $10 to continue with their newly formatted services, I have found that my user name and ID are not a part of the Echo service, nor does my blog exist within said service. I was able to manage my comments for a day or so, however, after receiving my $10, they haven't heard of me. Hmmm!

I have already made a new post about Steve Martin on my new blog. I am using Blogger comments with moderation. There were two comments about Paul Watson, one by kk and the other by someone I forget that never appeared in the new Echo format and thus were never published, I apologize.

I am a luddite to an extent. I went through all the html code looking for a hint as to the potential removal of Echo/Haloscan from this blog, and it has lead to nothing but anger and frustration. Much easier to move on.

See you at the new site.

Sincerely,

Eugene Douglas Johnson

The word is "Fear"

I was hiking up Hamilton Mountain, near Beacon Rock, in Washington.

My now ex-wife took me there. It was to be some sort of exercise for my psyche or some sort of armchair psychological bullshit (yet not bullshit) she had planned in her head for me. I was to hike it alone.

It wasn't the first time she did such things. Fear. Fear was a damned big way in which I ruled my life at the time. Fear. Fear was what I called into existence in my life. Fear.

The first such exercise she had me do was to hike up to the second bridge on the Balche Creek trail in Washington Park by myself, about a half-mile one way. Doesn't sound too scary, does it? Except, it was to be done at night. Her idea, I chose the time that was right for me.

I kept a little flashlight with me just in case. and headed up the trail. I used the flashlight once for a brief second, but that was all. I trudged up the trail in the dark. The darkness was like a warm blanket. But the blanket housed every demon my mind could conjur. Every demon I heard and hadn't heard of was on my trail, right behind me, ready to eat me, cannibalize me. Every demon! EVERY DEMON KNOWN AND UNKNOWN! And I was determined. Determined.

When it would get really bad, I made myself stop, wait for them to catch up. When it was worse than that, I would stop, and turn around, and face them in the darkness. I made it to the bridge, I made it back, and I only let myself feel that free form of nightmare hard breathing panic just once. Just once I ran, and after a few feet, made myself stop. Just once. Tears running down my cheeks, I stopped, breathed deep a few times, straightened high and proud waiting the imending death or torture or whatever it is the demons I gave word and existence to right behind me, and...it didn't come. I am...alive...to write this.

And so, I'm high as a kite or higher...higher I'm sure...on Bhang, a bastardization of the East Indian traditional marijuana chai. And I'm heading up Hamilton Mountain, glad to be in the hills (during the daylight) and away from my now ex-wife (ex for a good reason). I hadn't hiked this four mile stretch pretty much uphill. Four miles, one way, uphill. I saw many wonderful beautiful sights on that journey. One spot, there were lots of switchbacks. I had my head down and hiking fast to get to who knows where? The top? Suddenly, the trail is getting narrower. Hmm. Then it is barely noticeable. Hmm. Then, there is a large boulder in front of me blocking the trail. The trail doesn't go over it. The trail doesn't go around it because there is nothing but down on one side. My mind strated to make sense to my situation.

Let's see, narrow trail, steep hill on left side of rock. Nothing on right side of rock. WFT? I thought in my rather extensively high mind. I look to my left, steep hill, grass. I look to my right...DOWN! NOTHING BUT DOWN! WTF!?

My heart fell into my shoes in a feeble attempt to add weight to my feet to keep me from falling off the cliff. The trail, 8" wide, 1 foot, didn't matter, way high. HIGH! No earth to the right. HOW THE HELL DID I WIND UP HERE? WHY THE HELL DIDN'T I PAY ATTENTION? I'M F***ING HIGH! TOO HIGH TO BE THIS HIGH!

I leaned to the left with my hard, rapid, nightmare breathing. One hand on the earth hoping that there is magnets in my palm to hold me to the earth, stone, and grass.

I can hear a distant laugh in my head. Not a "You're such a stupid f***ing idiot" laugh like I thought, at first. It was the kind of laugh where, say, a child feels unsafe and gets panicky, but there is an adult there to keep them safe, like learning to swim.

"Stop," the voice smiled.

"Fuck you!" I responded.

"Stop."

"Fuck you!"

"Stop."

"Fuck you!"

I stopped. I kept my face and eyes down.

"Now look."

"Fuck you!"

The argument went back and forth for a few, but I knew I had to listen. I looked out. It was beatuiful. It was the most beautiful view I had ever had of the Gorge. I was still terribly scared.

"Now, face out. Have your toes facing out, your back to the hill, stand up straight, and look."

Holy cow. What are you asking of me?

I did as instructed, but only for a breath, and then got my ass back to the real trail where I missed the switchback. I hiked to the top and back down.

To Start the Year with a Word

One time...
One time...
I was getting high with these Rastas in Belize, South America.
This cat ran out of rolling papers, so
he just pulled out this bible
and started reading the first chapter of Genesis
right.
The first page of the bible
front and back.
We was all just quiet,
listening, ya know.
When he was done,
he ripped the page straight out the bible
and rolled the fattest spliff I ever saw.
Straight up!
You know! Straight up!
and that's when it struck me, you know,
in the beginning was the word,
you know what I'm saying,
and God said
"let there be"
and then there was
knawm sayin'!
He said it
and that's the power of creation
that's the power of MCin'.
We call things into existence.

(as best as I can make from Saul Williams', Purple Pigeons, intro.)

What shall I call into existence?
What shall you call into existence?
What shall we call into existence?