Monday, October 31, 2005
Satan in Knoxville
Mark your calenders folks! On November 15th at the Thompson Boling Arena (11 a.m., but get there by 9 a.m. if you want in, you have to be screened) the gates of hell will open and BeelzeDick enters our realm.
"The Devil went down to Knoxville, He was looking for a soul to steal..."
I hope someone has the nuts to do what this man did in Gulfport after Katrina. I wonder if this man is out of Federal prison yet? You can hear a scuffel in the background of someone taking good care of him. Heck, I thought he was very respectful to call him mister.
This is the most scary thing I could think of today, besides court. Happy Halloween, almost under a black new moon!
"The Devil went down to Knoxville, He was looking for a soul to steal..."
I hope someone has the nuts to do what this man did in Gulfport after Katrina. I wonder if this man is out of Federal prison yet? You can hear a scuffel in the background of someone taking good care of him. Heck, I thought he was very respectful to call him mister.
This is the most scary thing I could think of today, besides court. Happy Halloween, almost under a black new moon!
Sunday, October 30, 2005
Maynard'O Lantern
Well...I did my Jack'o'Lantern for this year. It is Maynard G. Krebbs as I mentioned last month. Below is the plan drawing I did, I think it followed through quite well as it is much easier to work pixles than squishy squash.
Rest in peace Bob Denver. Thanks for helping me pass away many after school hours wishing I was you, having a slice of Mary Ann's coconut cream pie and building bamboo cars.
Saturday, October 29, 2005
Jesus on KAT
I have had extra long days since I started using mass transit for my daily commute and not much time for blogging. I will find a way to get into the swing of things soon.
I have been on the bus thinking about the sampling of humanity that gathers on the first ride of the morning. All the routes start from the outside fringes of our little city and close in on the center by 6:15 a.m., to then be redirected outward every morning. I call this central round-up "the freak show". It is the oddest collection of humans in one place I have witnessed. Most of the time in Knoxville when there are public gatherings the folks attending have somewhat of a similar intrest, not so on the bus.
The bus I ride passes the mission and picks up several homeless people trying to recover their lives. It is funny to be there with them as I feel as if I am losing my life as I knew it (once more). I am standing firm on the self imposed rule "I will not borrow anymore monies without a clear path to a budget I can live within". This rule should be enacted on our Federal, State and County Governments in my humble observations.
This brings me to the eternal question: What Would Jesus Drive ? He would be right there on bus 22 with all the sinners just like Jed. Except he would be making matters better, unlike Jed who only strives to not make them worse.
I have been on the bus thinking about the sampling of humanity that gathers on the first ride of the morning. All the routes start from the outside fringes of our little city and close in on the center by 6:15 a.m., to then be redirected outward every morning. I call this central round-up "the freak show". It is the oddest collection of humans in one place I have witnessed. Most of the time in Knoxville when there are public gatherings the folks attending have somewhat of a similar intrest, not so on the bus.
The bus I ride passes the mission and picks up several homeless people trying to recover their lives. It is funny to be there with them as I feel as if I am losing my life as I knew it (once more). I am standing firm on the self imposed rule "I will not borrow anymore monies without a clear path to a budget I can live within". This rule should be enacted on our Federal, State and County Governments in my humble observations.
This brings me to the eternal question: What Would Jesus Drive ? He would be right there on bus 22 with all the sinners just like Jed. Except he would be making matters better, unlike Jed who only strives to not make them worse.
Tuesday, October 25, 2005
Dicked Part II
Ha Ha charade you are (in the words of Pink Floyd attached to Dick Cheney by Jed). More proof we got Dicked comes bubblin' up through the ground.
The New York Times gives us this:
WASHINGTON, Oct. 24 - I. Lewis Libby Jr., Vice President Dick Cheney's chief of staff, first learned about the C.I.A. officer at the heart of the leak investigation in a conversation with Mr. Cheney weeks before her identity became public in 2003, lawyers involved in the case said Monday.
Trust Cheney with your country? That has and will make matters worse!
The New York Times gives us this:
WASHINGTON, Oct. 24 - I. Lewis Libby Jr., Vice President Dick Cheney's chief of staff, first learned about the C.I.A. officer at the heart of the leak investigation in a conversation with Mr. Cheney weeks before her identity became public in 2003, lawyers involved in the case said Monday.
Trust Cheney with your country? That has and will make matters worse!
Monday, October 24, 2005
Blog Worth?
My blog is worth Jack$quat.
How much is your blog worth?
My friend over at Cup of Joe Powell pointed this out and I just could not pass up a good chance to do some Jediting.
Sunday, October 23, 2005
Franchised to death
In the forty-one years I have roamed around the sun I have been witness to the crash of our capitalistic system. We have sold our very lives to the decentralization of our common wealth from our own hands to those who do not have our best interest in their heart.
I remember when I was a wee tot my parents would travel by car with me to see what was over the next hill, and then the next hill. They had very long accumulated vacations as reward from the company they had been loyal to for a combined half a century. The only reward they received in the end was watching their pensions evaporate and their workplaces move to Mexico when they were too old to recover.
We would travel and visit State after State and Town after Town by the highway system and meet locals in their Shops and Restaurants that were unique to their Counties. When I remember those times they seem like another Country altogether. I was fortunate to have received this education in common American life of that time.
I found I had acquired a spirit of the same open road adventure by my sixteenth year and explored my home valley by automobile. In my eighteenth year I wanted to start exploring the Country for myself. I wanted to find that same America my folks were intrigued with. My vehicle was going to see shows by a certain band that played a different set list in every city with a micro-society of nomadic fans.
I started to notice the change in our country in the late seventies and then in the early eighties. My parents would tell me of special places I should visit while I was in a certain city that I found were no longer there. That special eatery was now a McDonalds or a Taco Bell, and that really nifty shop was now closed while the locals would gladly point to the new Wal-Mart out by the interstate by-pass.
In the late nineties I started to notice a change in the way this franchised businesses world was affecting our local economy as our local leaders also were dying off to a new breed of leadership that had no real interest in our community. These leaders were imported from a multitude of other places and had no family roots in our town. The leaders started to make decisions based on money and money alone. There was no financial reason to keep the people who were serving in positions that seemed lowly when they could be replaced by an answering machine device, or other tool.
In the overall quest for utopia it seems we have found the masses of humanity with idle time in the Devil’s workshop to be hooked on the wears of Walgreen’s. When all that is needed in this writer’s humble and un-educated opinion is something useful to do with his or her time that gains him a livelihood.
A poor man measures his gold by the weight of his toil for it, and a rich man measures his gold by the weight of many other men’s toil for it. The rich and powerful had best find a way to good stewardship of this gold before it is too late or he will see his foundation is washed away and will have the toil on his own bones to bear.
I am Tennessee Jed; Self-proclaimed Prophet of the Obvious without the letters of accomplishment posted after my name my opinion means little more than rambling. I am not a Socialist, but I am a social creature in need of help as I offer help. I could write thousands and thousands more words on these simple observations, but I will leave that to those who have that job to do. I only strive to not worsen matters and live another day.
Wednesday, October 19, 2005
Dang Grapes
I was feeling so very low. Things like having the trusty 1992 Ford Bronco break down hard and all the other money problems really had me low. Riding the bus here is kind of seedy, as this is the SOUTH and if you don't have a ride then you ain't much of a person. I feel as if I am not a good/real man now that it takes much more than I can make just to snorkle above poverty. Riding the bus is sort of like a short term jail stay in Knoxville.
I feel better now after my wife gave me some moscato a (fragrant, light-bodied dessert wine. Moscato is the Italian name for Muscat grape). The flavor reminds me of a native grape from these parts, the muscadine or scuppernong (nobody here ever called it scuppernog!). It is all pit and only faintly sweet, the rest is bitter skin. Sort of reminds me of me. The muscadine makes a very sweet kool-aid flavored wine though. Which also reminds me of me, as I can be very sweet too. In times of drought the grape skin gets thicker and the pit consumes the sweet matter. Dang, now I understand the relationship of sour grapes to interpersonal relationships. It has been a long drought.
I bet the rest of you already knew this fact, so bare with me as I flow to understanding, like wine from the bottle.
Sunday, October 16, 2005
Cold Coffee
My heart, my heart is cold forged.
My disappointments overcome me in a freeze-dried version
Of something that was good once.
Too many scars, too many scars to cover the way I really am.
It is as a burn victim but not with the flame.
The liquid nitrogen that has flowed my body clean is still pooled
In a place that is easy to rupture.
I seem like a self-absorbed whiny astronaut
Afraid of the cold space that voluntarily envelops me.
I give no defense for my rambling self-pity, and bitterness.
I desire to pour out this vessel, and refill it
Warm and good.
Scared to death it may be the container
That is contaminated not the contents.
The hot love once poured would become
Luke-warm and bitter on contact,
Black coffee collected in a cold beer stein.
Y'all forgive Jed in his selfish despair. It has been a very emotional weekend of internally imposed crossroads. This is my simple self-examining therapy…nothing more. Please do not assume it is a cry for help, because I have faith and hope alive. I am still very much alive and thankful for even the grief.
Please understand that I have good shoes to roam the earth. I must work with what I have as the photo above does, except I have much, much more to work with.
The sun will shine that much brighter after this storm, but in the mean time I strive to not worsen matters.
Friday, October 14, 2005
E4OD
Today Jed has the blues a bit...I will count my blessings:
1. I have my second pay check in hand from my job at the city as I have finished my fifth week.
2. We have been blessed with about $700.00 on our plea for financial aid from friends and readers in the past month (you know who you are and thanks a gazillion).
3. We are feeling well and seem healthy.
4. We have a court date for going bankrupt, and are hopeful about the house.
5. I know what that sound coming from my truck's drivetrain is now.
6. I don't have to put up with the kids this weekend, even though I wanted to see them badly.
7. My second job wants me to do as much as I can this weekend...if I can get there.
8. The weather here is perfect for walking.
I am starting to feel a little bitter. So I will just end this post with it is a good day to be here on earth and alive, and America is the very best place in the world to be a person of lesser income.
I may be unable to blog for a few days as I try and find a cost effective way to solve my transportation problem. Thanks for stopping by and checking in on Jed!
Thursday, October 13, 2005
Stuck inside
Many thanks to freedigitalphotos.netSometimes I feel as if I am stuck inside a bottle.
This link is cool. I have been trying to find the book that this bottle is setting on. (ISBN 3-89060-01_) It looks German what do you guys think?
Looks as if some other people want to bottle up things. Not letting us see things can make matters worse. Would you buy water that was in an opaque bottle? Well Jed ain't buying it.
Update: A friend from a past life (whom I hope to see in the near future) contacted me via e-mail with the most likely book answer. She has went on to gain a PhD and has a good life going for herself. I wish she would do a little web logging since she writes a perfect letter.
Her answer is: ISBN is -nearly- the same. Just in case the link does not work, the title of the book is Die Steinheilkunde Ein Handbuch, ISBN 3890600891
Loosely translated...the title is: The Stone Medicine: A Manual.
Wednesday, October 12, 2005
Scooter
BMW built these in 2001 and 2002 they never made it to the Americas. Dubbed the BMW C-1 commuter vehicle they offered shelter and excellent crash protection. They had a wonderful idea, and I would own one of these for my around town transport. With the safety features and shelter (including heated grips and foot warmers) the rider did not need a helmet or leather riding gear.
I know, I know I have scooter maddness. Please enjoy the photos with me...it can't make things any worse.
Tuesday, October 11, 2005
Peaceful Sort
Thich Nhat Hanh is an odd little man. He goes around advocating peace (he ain’t going to make much cash that way). He led a gathering in the City of Angels last Saturday where the marchers were silent. No hate words on poster boards or catchy chants.
To give you a little look at his pattern of thought where he applies peace and love here are some quotes:
“Sometimes your joy is the source of your smile, but sometimes your smile can be the source of your joy.”
“In true dialogue, both sides are willing to change.”
“In order to rally people, governments need enemies. They want us to be afraid, to hate, so we will rally behind them. And if they do not have a real enemy, they will invent one in order to mobilize us.”
“We really have to understand the person we want to love. If our love is only a will to possess, it is not love. If we only think of ourselves, if we know only our own needs and ignore the needs of the other person, we cannot love.”
“People deal too much with the negative, with what is wrong. Why not try and see positive things, to just touch those things and make them bloom?”
I have an old friend who before she decided to dislike me would say, "Be here NOW", I think she was reading this guy's books at the time.
As you know Jed is not a Buddhist, but I do like his words and his actions. He is admired by me because he is not trying to make matters worse. I'll bet he has his share of folks who don't like him because they want to, just like me.
Monday, October 10, 2005
Hellcat
Bad Craziness...Just after recovering from a hard drive scratch Saturday our phone and internet services shut off. The celluar network was over loaded and our beloved Vols were getting a beating on their home turf. I thought the rapture was on! I was waiting for a sound that I had never heard before, but all that was unusual was an absence of a ringing phone.
After asking around I found out that an airplane crash on the plateau cut a fiber-optic line. The services were out about fourty hours overall and we saw this on the news last night. It was not a regular sort of plane crash it was a World War II Hellcat from California on loan to a place in Pigeon Forge. The pilot lost his life in the crash and the officials had the crash site stitched up tight with an investigation so the services had to wait to start repairs.
Let me see if I can spin this out in a positive way. A man lost his life doing what he loved to do, and did not linger in a sick bed for years. I hope when it is my time I go out quick doing something fun too. It allowed me time to visit with my wife and step-daughter a little more this weekend. I also bet that Knology found solutions to problems they had never considered possible.
Blessings are everywhere...sometimes you have to tilt your head and squint to see it, but they are there.
Saturday, October 08, 2005
Mercy Street
I have been fighting a computer war with my hard drive. I have been defraging, scanning, editing registry entrys, .ini .sys .drv files chopped up everywhere, hard drive scratches and the smell of melting plastic have been my last few hours. I have booted a thousand times since my last post. I have had limited use of my computer to do an e-mail then restart, look at a page and restart, make a comment and restart, update a driver and guess what...restart, I even woke up at 4 a.m. to just boot up, restart then pee. Turn it off for an hour boot up defrag and restart. I even thought about taking it out for a ride to the river let it have a good swim, bring it back and then restart. It is holding firm now. At last I can post on my web log.
Peter Gabrel wrote this song "Mercy Street" and it touches me because I wear my inside out much of the time.
looking down on empty streets, all she can see
are the dreams all made solid
are the dreams all made real
all of the buildings, all of those cars
were once just a dream
in somebody's head
she pictures the broken glass, she pictures the steam
she pictures a soul
with no leak at the seam
lets take the boat out
wait until darkness
let's take the boat out
wait until darkness comes
nowhere in the corridors of pale green and grey
nowhere in the suburbs
in the cold light of day
there in the midst of it so alive and alone
words support like bone
dreaming of mercy street
wear your inside out
dreaming of mercy
in your daddy's arms again
dreaming of mercy st.
'swear they moved that sign
dreaming of mercy
in your daddy's arms
pulling out the papers from the drawers that slide smooth
tugging at the darkness, word upon word
confessing all the secret things in the warm velvet box
to the priest-he's the doctor
he can handle the shocks
dreaming of the tenderness-the tremble in the hips
of kissing Mary's lips
dreaming of mercy street
wear your insides out
dreaming of mercy
in your daddy's arms again
dreaming of mercy st.
'swear they moved that sign
looking for mercy
in your daddy's arms
mercy, mercy, looking for mercy
mercy, mercy, looking for mercy
Anne, with her father is out in the boat
riding the water
riding the waves on the sea
When I am stressed I like to notice the little things, a whiff of the roses if you will. Like taking the time to notice how the rainy day has everything dark and shiny wet. How my shirt feels on my lips while I lay with eyes open to the sight of the kitchen table, my favorite place. Pondering God and what I mean to him. Glancing at the tire swing in the back yard as I let the dog out and live out many hours worth of memories in less than a second.
These things help put aside the computer woes and the late Friday mail that alerts me that the D.O.T. has boned up my payment for a ticket and is now going to make me prove my payment was made (just don't get pulled over in the mean time). I am in control of this ship, but the waves have a mind of their own.
At least I am enjoying the ride, and I have folks who love and help me. I keep hoping I am not white trash, even though all indicators point in that direction. Perhaps it is likened to maddness...I will be the last one to know. It could be that by asking the daily questions, "Am I crazy?" and "Am I white trash?", I am holding off that curse. Man I hope so!
Y'all have a good day, Godspeed as you travel and rubber side down my fellow scooter trash.
Peter Gabrel wrote this song "Mercy Street" and it touches me because I wear my inside out much of the time.
looking down on empty streets, all she can see
are the dreams all made solid
are the dreams all made real
all of the buildings, all of those cars
were once just a dream
in somebody's head
she pictures the broken glass, she pictures the steam
she pictures a soul
with no leak at the seam
lets take the boat out
wait until darkness
let's take the boat out
wait until darkness comes
nowhere in the corridors of pale green and grey
nowhere in the suburbs
in the cold light of day
there in the midst of it so alive and alone
words support like bone
dreaming of mercy street
wear your inside out
dreaming of mercy
in your daddy's arms again
dreaming of mercy st.
'swear they moved that sign
dreaming of mercy
in your daddy's arms
pulling out the papers from the drawers that slide smooth
tugging at the darkness, word upon word
confessing all the secret things in the warm velvet box
to the priest-he's the doctor
he can handle the shocks
dreaming of the tenderness-the tremble in the hips
of kissing Mary's lips
dreaming of mercy street
wear your insides out
dreaming of mercy
in your daddy's arms again
dreaming of mercy st.
'swear they moved that sign
looking for mercy
in your daddy's arms
mercy, mercy, looking for mercy
mercy, mercy, looking for mercy
Anne, with her father is out in the boat
riding the water
riding the waves on the sea
When I am stressed I like to notice the little things, a whiff of the roses if you will. Like taking the time to notice how the rainy day has everything dark and shiny wet. How my shirt feels on my lips while I lay with eyes open to the sight of the kitchen table, my favorite place. Pondering God and what I mean to him. Glancing at the tire swing in the back yard as I let the dog out and live out many hours worth of memories in less than a second.
These things help put aside the computer woes and the late Friday mail that alerts me that the D.O.T. has boned up my payment for a ticket and is now going to make me prove my payment was made (just don't get pulled over in the mean time). I am in control of this ship, but the waves have a mind of their own.
At least I am enjoying the ride, and I have folks who love and help me. I keep hoping I am not white trash, even though all indicators point in that direction. Perhaps it is likened to maddness...I will be the last one to know. It could be that by asking the daily questions, "Am I crazy?" and "Am I white trash?", I am holding off that curse. Man I hope so!
Y'all have a good day, Godspeed as you travel and rubber side down my fellow scooter trash.
Thursday, October 06, 2005
Scooters
The photo above is from a movie
“Quadrophenia”
where the “Mods” ride scooters
that have many lights and mirrors.
Red Molly, "my web log unrelated kin" has been humoring me and my dreams about rebuilding and owning a two wheeler. I have been living vicariously through her son’s visionary project of rebuilding an old Vespa scooter. He had this goal way before gas prices climbed, so visionary fits tight in the socket. I am so glad she shared her son’s project to keep my dream life alive.“Quadrophenia”
where the “Mods” ride scooters
that have many lights and mirrors.
It is a good day to be alive!
Wednesday, October 05, 2005
Humble Jed
Baked into the crust of a fresh apple pieare the Chinese characters representing the word
"quianyi" meaning "apology" or "heartfelt regrets."
I am humbled. My wife has reminded me of my own words. "A good human is bold enough to ask for help when needed, while thankful and humble to accept what is given."
She published this the other day on our behalf. The generosity of folks humbles me, while I am thankful, I am ashamed to need help. You have heard the term "beg, steal or borrow" well we have borrowed with no help. It must be time to beg because we ain't gonna stoop to stealing.
On a lighter note: The other day as I payed the electric bill I thought, "heck that is not a bad deal it cost less than a tank of gas for our car". Funny how the mind grows accustomed to price abuse.
Tuesday, October 04, 2005
10 Year old blog
My step daughter Raina started her own blog today. I bet you thought I was pointing you to an internet archive that was ten years old, with my title.
She is really smart and wise for a child who has only ten years on her head, so this will be interesting to see her relate her world view on the web. Her mom told her if she wanted to do it she would have to read the instructions and follow them herself. So she clicked on the "I power blogger" button and followed the instructions. She has a nifty handle too!
Sunday, October 02, 2005
MerleFest
This guy will be playing at MerleFest next April with The Waybacks. We were blessed to see him at Bonnaroo as a birthday gift from my in-laws this past June.I went to MerleFest way back in 1989 and 1990 it was a blast! If you have the time and money it is worth the trip.
Saturday, October 01, 2005
Winner
I won a pumpkin carving contest online! It feels good to win something. Early last October I sent in my 2003 Cash O Lantern, and it was on the 2004 winners list HERE.
It is sixth down on the right hand side.
I posted a few weeks ago when Bob Denver died, telling you of my little Halloween hobby.
