Vumba has continued to weird me out.  She keeps confessing all of these horrible things she's done in the past, like stolen lipsticks from Nordstroms, and intentionally woken up people who are sleeping in airport lounges, trains or wherever or the fact that she got into sticking her fingers into light sockets until her doctor told her that it was causing numbness and could paralyze her. 

The good news is Sarry (pronounced like "sorry") has turned out to be a lot of fun.  She was the woman who I found crying in the street.  Ever since that day she claims her life has gotten better all because of me.  This scares me.  I don't want to be responsible for someone getting better.  I'm so used to people feeling worse after they hang out with me, this also weirds me out.  But this is weirding out in a not-as-weirded out way.  Kind of weirded in, rather than weirded out.  Y'know? 

Posted by kurtswarm at 10:51 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

They always ask me "paper or plastic" at the supermarket and I have a chart to keep track so that I ask for paper almost as many times as I ask for plastic or vice versa.  When I get too high on the paper side, I'll go plastic for a few weeks.  Then when I'm too high on plastic, I switch to paper. 

But I decided my tactic is doing nothing to help the environment.  So now what I do is I bring my own paper AND plastic in addition to rubber bands, masking tape and velcro webbing.  If there's a bagger trying to bag my groceries they don't know what to do.  So they have to wait while I pay for the goods and then set about cobbling together a fully bound package of paper, plastic, rubber bands and, only if needed, velcro and masking tape. I feel like I'm really helping.  Of course I reuse the paper and plastic and the rubber bands and the masking tape is being used as part of my grant application to the Lorbelginger Foundation.  I'll explain later.    

Posted by kurtswarm at 10:01 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Vumba insisted on going to see her new favorite band, Clumsy Bumm, at the Black Hole last night.  The place was not packed, but she was up there in front of the band, going nuts as if they were U2.  I think she likes the singer, who looked a little like a really short Asian version of Beck.  The music was standard-fare indie rock...hummable tunes, noisy guitars, uptempo with the occasional bassoon, theremin and musical saw.

I'm wondering about my taste in music vs. Vumba's.  We're miles apart, like everything else.  I like Shocking Hockey, she likes Electric Dust Bunny.  I like Stingy Stinger she likes Walden Pond Scum.  I like Pulsing Porch Meat, she likes Amber Nightlight.  That says a lot.  Tomato - Tomah-to.  Potato - Potahto.  Clamato - Legato - Staccato - Ricotta - I gotta' go......

Posted by kurtswarm at 09:37 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Posted by kurtswarm at 12:42 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

A lot has happened since I was last in here.  I've been studying fruit-in-season at the markets lately. The apple and banana industries dominate the fruit section all year long and I'm doing something about it.  I found an organization fighthing for the cause, fight4fruit, and they speak out on behalf of in-season fruits (on a seasonal basis, of course). 

They have a unique approach, which is not to fight for the farmers of the fruit, but to fight for the fruits themselves.  They argue that just as the farmers need subsidies and financing, the fruits have rights as well.  As fruits, they need to be represented in the marketplace.  In keeping with this, fruits should have more space between them and be protected better.  Did you ever notice that only bananas get to sit on a padded shelf or area to prevent bruising.  Why can't all the fruits be that comfortable?

I went to the Co-op to talk to the manager and we wound up getting in argument about peach fuzz.  He couldn't believe that peaches shed more peach fuzz when they're nervous and not treated well.  It didn't matter.  When he walked away, I pulled apples out from the under the pyramid and dozens of apples fell.  Then I went to a whole bunch of stores and did the same thing.  When I returned the next day, the peaches and nectarines look a lot happier and relaxed.  Feel free to do the same!

Posted by kurtswarm at 11:44 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Posted by kurtswarm at 11:11 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Everyone marks this day as unlucky, superstitious, a bad omen.  But for me, every day is unlucky and a bad omen.  If I look at the world that way, then if something good happens then it means the unlucky side is losing and I'll just have more unlucky stuff later.  It's just totally random, so why bother worrying about it.  Either way, we're all screwed.  Happy Friday the 13th!

Posted by kurtswarm at 11:50 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

I saw this woman on the street walking and it looked like she was crying.  I passed her and thought, "maybe that's just her expression."  You know how you see someone's face and you wonder, "Are they squinting or is that they way their face really is."  And then you wait and you realize they're just squinting because, I don't know, they just realized they forgot something or the sun was in their eyes.

So I saw this woman who looked like she was crying and I turned around and followed her.  As I carefully got in step with her I could see her expression wasn't just one of pain and sorrow all the time.  Or that someone had just stepped on her toes.  She was really crying.  I kept walking with her, sort of in step.  Then behind her and then in front of her. 

Finally, I asked her if she was really crying.  She looked at me and just broke down.  She sort of leaned towards me and I tried to hug her and then I spilled Molto Searachino on her back.  Then she was like crying and yelling in pain.  Molto Searachino is a new coffee beverage they're serving at The Coffee Experiment (CoffExBlog)

The Molto Searachino is a new coffee beverage they're serving which is simply boiling hot black coffee served in a tin cup.  I offered to buy her a coffee or tea and she took me up on it.  We went to The Coffee Experience and she ordered Ice Water, this other new drink they're serving which is just a glass of water that has been in the freezer with a straw frozen in it.  She wouldn't tell me why she was crying. But her name is Saree although it's pronounced "Sorry."  How weird is that?

Posted by kurtswarm at 08:04 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

I do respect all of the people involved in this Live Earth Concert for the Planet in Crisis to Save Our Climate Environment Day Thing.  But I have to put in some plug for my own ongoing efforts to stop global warming.  On the side of acting locally, I recently learned that not recycling the aluminum foil lids on certain foods like yogurt and ready-to-eat applesauce produces more toxins than every chemical Dupont ever produced since 1958.

 
So, I've been going through every supermarket I can and pulling the lids off of yogurt and applesauce containers and then putting them all in my recycling bin.  I realize this might make the applesauce and yogurt go bad, but at least the foil won't harm the planet.  Actually, as long as people don't freak out and choose to buy the yogurt or ready-to-eat applesauce, then nothing goes to waste.  So just be careful it doesn't spill out of the cart or in your shopping bag.

Posted by kurtswarm at 11:53 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

As most people know, Dylan had a serious motorcycle accident in the 60s (70s?).  It was so serious that his life was divided in his mind as "before the accident" and "after the accident."  Except, like my accident wasn't that serious.  It wasn't with a motorcycle.  It wasn't even with a motor vehicle.  And, this isn't the 60s.  Or the 70s for that matter.  And, I'm not a poet, folk rock star, icon, legend.  So, I'm not going to divide my life into before the accident and after the accident. 

I sort of see it as before I wrote this sentence.  And after I wrote that sentence.  There's Now.  And there's Not Now.  There's that sentence, I'm referring to.  And this sentence I'm referring to.  So maybe this doesn't have to do with Dylan's accident, but I thought it was important anyway. 

Posted by kurtswarm at 09:18 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Few people are aware but a philosopher who was a disciple of Erich Fromm, E.C. Cottonlocket, started a campaign in 1952 calling for an Interdependence Day.  The day was to mark our complete interdependence upon each other.  His idea was to celebrate this day, people would spend the day being interdependent.  So instead of driving to the store, going shopping, getting gas and coming home and putting the groceries away.  You were supposed to go to your neighbors and see if they needed groceries or gas or whatever and do that for them.  And they were to do the same for someone else. 

The problem was that it actually became very popular.  Everyone wound up spending most of the time trying to find the other person they were supposed to help.  So you'd go over your neighbor's house to see if they needed groceries, but they were gone because they were helping someone else.  And your neighbor is now frustrated because she too is having trouble trying to locate their other neighbor. 

In fact, the whole thing wound up pissing a lot of people off.  Additionally, the streets were clogged in a confusing mass.  Doing this, many people missed work so productivity was down and the economy suffered.  That was the first and only Interdependence Day as we know it. 

E.C. Cottonlocket wound up sinking into a deep depression for the next five years and spent most of his days baking cakes in the shape of different countries and then spreading them out on his lawn, pieced together and then walking all over them singing "For he's a jolly good fellow."  He wound up spending the rest of his life in an institution.  He was survived by his wife Calla Lilly Cottonlocket and his only daughter who later went on to considerable fame as Mrs. Hathaway in the TV version of "Beverly Hillbillies."

Posted by kurtswarm at 09:21 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Okay, here's what happened.  I had an accident.  I can't really talk about because the insurance company and the lawyers and my employer have all asked me not to blog about it.  In fact, I signed an NBA (Non-Blogging Agreement) that I wouldn't blog at all.  I even asked what I could blog about.  They told me exactly.  I could say just what I said above. (please re-read the sentence, "I had an accident.")  It's so tempting to say something about it, but then you can imagine.  Just take the word "accident" and add everything you know about me. 

You know that it didn't occur because I was in a high-speed chase with the police.  You know it didn't happen because of some terrorist attack, because you would've heard about it in the news.  You know it wasn't that big a deal or you would've heard it on the news.  You know it didn't occur because I crossed the street when there were no cars and there was a tear in the fabric of time and a car came out of nowhere and ran me over.  You may even wonder if I even had an accident.  Maybe I'm making all these things up.  Maybe....

But I have no interest in making this horrible experience up.  But it was an accident.  I swear.  I didn't do it on purpose.  I got hurt.  I sustained injuries.  I am okay.  Probably the worst is that I now have this emotionally deep traumatic experience which has scarred me to the core.  But, I didn't sustain a scratch, I didn't go to the emergency room, I didn't even have to see a doctor and no one else got hurt.  But it was an accident.  And all that that implies.   

Posted by kurtswarm at 09:14 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

The most interesting thing about people is how little I have in common with them.  In a way, I am alien to them and so studying them is that much more interesting.  I guess if you have friends and you, I don’t know, talk to them or deal with them sort of, then you can’t really be objective about who they are, what they represent and what you really think of them.  If they’re friends, you might not want to think something they do is wrong or fucked up or weird.

This doesn’t mean I don’t have friends.  I don’t really call them friends, though.  They’re like satellites.  Like the moon is a satellite of the earth.  It revolves around the Earth.  Science tells us that the moon was created by being spun off from the Earth.  This isn’t to say that they I’m more important than them or they revolve around me or that they were spun off of my body of course (well probably not).  But from where I sit, from what I see, they do revolve around me.  When I’m sitting at home working on my paintings, or writing poetry or rehearsing a performance or blogging or critiquing television programming, nobody exists except me.  Then if Corsithia calls and wants to go see Jumble Mumble Tumble at The Door Prize then Corsithia exists.  But before that Corsithia didn’t exist.  Guru Shahandra Makhtahandrakhandrakhan says, “Existence is called into existence by existence."

Posted by kurtswarm at 01:51 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

I don't really know this guy John Stossel.  But I saw him on TV and now I'm totally confused.  On the one hand, some of what the guy says makes sense.  I mean, not really what he says.  What he means.  But he doesn't say what he means.  But what I think he means to say is that, "These ideas are really good ideas.  I care about you.  I want what's good for me to be good for the world."  I don't think he really means to say, "Everybody's an idiot except for me.  I'm the only one who makes any sense.  Everybody should die who doesn't agree with me."  I think he has really good intentions.  It's just hard to hear in the middle of his vehemence to make a point. 

He reminds me of this radical leftist anarchist nihilist peacenik speaker I heard at The Bumper Auditorium: George Communist.  He basically said that war never ended and people are, basically all dead already.  That's why we have wars.  We're not fighting to live.  We're fighting to deny our death.  He also had sort of the same intense attitude.  He just ranted and raved and it sort of made sense mainly because he was talking so loud andd you couldn't NOT pay attention.  During the Q and A, people got so angry at him, they started throwing chairs.  It was pretty funny, because the chairs were all pillows, so it was sort of a pillow fight.  I left after that with Shoshana, when she and I were still together.  We took a long walk on Short Pier afterwards.  She was really disturbed after that.  I think that's when our relationship started to crumble.

Posted by kurtswarm at 11:21 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)