people sometimes use joking as a means to speak their mind in a way that excuses them from the consequence of what they've said.

for example. in the office where i work, there is a woman who frequently says such joking things as "you suck" or "i hate you" but it's all in fun, it's all just said jokingly. these things she sometimes says in reaction to someone having it better off than her: someone's going on a vacation, or someone's been running and getting athletic, or in my case it's a general resentment toward my many talents. is it possible this is a form of passive aggression? one might take it that way. it's been said a million times hasn't it. that's the reality in some ways, because if you look at a transcript of life, and you see these patterns, it all paints a picture. and who is she in this picture? is she a comedian? or is she what she jokes about?

as kurt vonnegut, jr. wrote in mother night,
"be careful who you pretend to be because you are who you pretend to be."

sally makes tactless racist jokes all the time. is sally a racist? mickie makes sexual advances. is he available? jeb pushes women around. is he abusive?

are we defined by our thought or action?

for you, the question is - simply because this message is entertaining to me, tell me, am i joking?

"We take certain objects so for granted that we probably never stop to ask ourselves how they first figured in the life of man. This is the case with scissors: do they date back one century, two centuries or twenty?"

http://thenonist.com/index.php/thenonist/from_the_history_of_scissors

I found my dreams of last night to be quite amusing, so I share them here with you. Naturally, it's the kind of thing where "you had to be there" to really enjoy the experience, nonetheless, this is as good a place as any to record it for my own reflection. Now don't go getting all "psychotherpist" on me, okay?
12/8/06

Walking in the forest with Beanbler, then I see another cat just like him, in fact it is identical. As he and the doppelganger cross paths going in opposite directions, they mirror each other exactly. is it an hallucination, or a trick of mirrors...? they sniff each other and interact. it is indeed a double. Then I look at one's collar - it is the old kitten collar with a bell. he is scrawny, and his fur is a bit matted, and uneven. I remember that at one point I had lost him and then had gotten/grew a new one, I hadn't realized he had been outside all along foraging for himself. I felt bad for him, but so happy that he was still alive, and proud that he'd been resourceful. Would l be able to bring him inside again, or would he prefer to stay outdoors? Had he grown too wild?

At Grandma Jean's house after her passing, looking around the dining room at things left behind. A Pinocchio marionette stuffed into a cupboard. Aunt Shelley comes along. I fix a baroque looking knob that seems to have come loose.

We have a method for travelling back and forth in time. Three of us set out on a mission. We have a mattress to cushion our slide into the near past. I'm told that my incantation is "funny spider" and my companions each have their own mantra. As we fall forward onto the mattress, I say "funny spider, funny spider, funny spider, funny spider...." in quick succession. As I feel myself dissolve into the ether, I reflect on the numb sensation in my ankles and watch as they merge with the surrounding matter and disappear. I think about whether Scamper will know that it's the Me from the future when he sees me, and I remember of course that he's in on the plan, as is my past self, whom I'm also sure to encounter.

"As sunlight obscures the stars by day so does wakefulness blind us to the fact that we are still dreaming."
-Peter J. Carroll, Liber Kaos

Back in October, I had a cold one Sunday afternoon and since I couldn't work out I made myself useful by taking some snapshots of the champs that I train with. Check these bad-asses out: http://www.kungfu.net/gallery/SANSHOU-Oct-2006/

As you can see, the church gymnasium may be spartan, but it has nice lighting.

I came across an ad on Craigslist just now for a pair of tap dance shoes for sale. The description read:

Tap Shoes Size 8.5…Like New Condition - worn indoors a handful of times for pretend tap dance shows.

and I'm taken by the thought of "who is doing pretend tap dance shows?"

and what a bargain at $10!

K

I like to ride my bicycle through Aquatic Park in Berkeley. It's especially nice in the evening hours when the sun is low in the sky. Looking west over the water, you might see a lone rower sliding by in a long boat, and interesting shorebirds frequent the waters. Then there's the highway just on the other side, cars backed up eight lanes across. On the eastern edge of the park are the train tracks, so you also get the regular Amtrak or freight train clanking through. It makes for a strange conjunction. I guess that's the reality of urban parks, and Aquatic Park is a great place to bike or to walk your dog. There's even a disc-golf course (folf!) and a kid's playground at the north end.

The other thing about Aquatic Park is that I once heard someone refer to it as "Pickle Park" because apparently, this is a common place for men to hookup. The person who told me this had even witnessed some guy in a business suit climbing out of the bushes alongside another guy who was dressed in tatters. Apparently some of the men of "Pickle Park" turn a blind eye to status. Funny to think that the guy in the suit probably wouldn't give the hobo the time of day if they met on BART, but at "Pickle Park" the motto is Liberté, égalité, fraternité!

Ever since I'd heard this, I now see Aquatic Park in a new light. In fact, there do seem to be an unusual number of men wandering around, or sitting in their cars. I haven't seen anyone coming out of the bushes myself yet, but I just can't help wondering, when I ride through dinging my brass bell at people on the trail, just what everyone's intentions are. The knowledge of what goes on and the subsequent suspicion spooked me at first, but now I really don't mind, as long as these men keep their pickles to themselves.

addendum: candidly, I did consider getting a pair of brass knuckles or learning to use a boot knife, but that's something I ought to do anyway, as one who rides the street at night. Ultimately, I don't feel threatened in the park, though, truth be told. Some people are willing to regard it as "skanky". My theory is, if you aren't happy with what's going on in your streets or in the park, then why not be present and claim it for your own (supposedly virtuous) use. This is the closest park in my vicinity, and I'm not willing to relinquish it.

well, we missed the bonfire party, as they'd packed it up by the time we arrived. nevertheless, something good came of it - yo: check it!
http://flickr.com/photos/95798392@N00/sets/72157594209239294/

shortly after my last entry, S and I closed the deal on our first house, which we'd been searching for since January. how did we do it, you ask? magic, that's how. how did we find this stylin shack in Emeryville? because we're rock stars and no one can stop us.

We had to spend some time furnishing the place and that's an ongoing process. I've made modest forays into the world of gardening.

How is it that one as embittered toward home-life as myself has seemingly embraced domesticity? because I do it with the subtle style and grace you've come to expect from me.

A few weeks ago we had our first house party. About 20 of our beautiful friends showed up and we shared delicious food and drinks and thought provoking conversation.

I get around now almost exclusively on my bicycle and my two sticks.

I've started exchanging blows with trained fighters on Sunday afternoons.

I'm ready to settle in and start writing again, creative projects, etc.

that's the update. any questions?

Today at work I created an art project called "décor minis”. It's this pack of nine small canvases that comes with instructions that you can follow to create an "artpiece" to hang up and decorate your home. Basically, you mix up colors, slather it on, then [out of desperation–I had to finish in time for next week's trade show] I ask you to squirt on some very liquidy paint as an accent. I talked to our photographer about shooting the final project for me, she said, "Sure thing, Jackson!" I said, "Jackson?" (See, nobody has called me Jackson since I was hanging out with the Limbs…)

“Pollock”, she said, “Jackson Pollock.“ Of course!

Arriving home I thought about Pollock, wasn’t there a fictional movie made about his life? Well, I never saw it, but I could have sworn that he was played by John Malkovich. As it turns out, that's not the case at all - it's Ed Harris. But of course I would think of John Malkovich because I saw a trailer this weekend for Art School Confidential with Malkovich, and he plays a very pretentious character. Then I thought bout this dream that I had several months ago involving a dangerous street artist who looked like John Malkvich. So, I posted it to my web site. Click on "Being John Malkovich?"

http://ficklemuse.com/sneep/sneeping.shtml