Newly built window box is up. Lean out the window and there’s a salad waiting for you.
Plastics storage facility in Richmond, IN, is ablaze, smoke is assuredly toxic, and will burn for days. We’re literally choking on plastic, from the oceans to small towns in the Midwest.
They shall change their cartridge boxes into screw boxes, neither shall they learn war anymore.
Old Gods of Appalachia live performance last night in Indianapolis was great. There were three musicians that played short sets and a couple of funny, in-universe fake commercials. One long story at the end featuring some favorite characters. It was fun watching the narrators drop into character.
Old Gods of Appalachia live show tonight!
A word in defense of solitude
Freddie deBoer’s recent essay about the escapism built into much of online life is well worth your attention. When I was first drafting this post yesterday, I wrote that Freddie missed some important points. I’ve now re-read it a few times to ensure I wasn’t misreading him and I suspect he wouldn’t necessarily disagree with what I say below. So just take this post as a “yes, and…” to Freddie’s.
Because for the sore awfulness of this century we need more fur, not less.
That’s the root of the trouble: a hairless mind. Hairless mind has us far distant from cormorant and eaglet, from birch bark and anaconda.
Understand me, there’s a great deal about people I like. There’s a vigorous gleam of the unique in a few. Danger lurks in the observation, but it’s undeniable. But humanness seems truest and most vivid when smeared into the petri dish of the mad-bad-and-beautiful expressions of a wider earth.
To have a bald mind is to have black-magicked yourself away from those wider nerve endings.
A pox on the house that brewed that up.
Listening to Martin Shaw’s interview on Rune Soup and, ugh, I really need to read Bardskull. Also, he’s converting to Orthodoxy? It seems like all the cool kids are doing it these days. 😂
The tragic death of Warren Dean Jones
During a recent walk to Murray Forest, two carvings on the side of a church caught my attention. One was of a man, the sun behind his head, wings in front, with the epigraph “Courage.” The other was of a woman, same arrangement, with the epigraph “Virtue.” My first thought was that these felt a bit lodge-y, like something you’d see associated with the Freemasons. The building looked like a church but the inscription on the building was Warren Dean Jones Memorial Christian Fellowship Center, and a cornerstone marked 1949.
2016 Ford Escape: Battery is buried under a bunch of other stuff, made intentionally complicated to access. Under “replacing the battery,” the owner’s manual only tells you to have a dealership do it.
1999 Ford F150: The battery is just right there, in the open.
hashtag RightToRepair
