Monthly Archives: March 2010

sunny days and the arrival of porch nights

I love spring and fall. T-shirt days and sweatshirt nights. Love it. Cool evening bike rides. Late night bacon.
Wait, that’s year round.
But yes, you get the idea. Happy to be on the bike and not freezing.
We got a taste of that recently. But I guess we need to wait a little longer.

Because this is now.

parking lot entrance gate

thats a glass slider on the side of the house

Update: “a tiny coastal state already beleaguered by a sagging economy and backbreaking unemployment rate.”
Hey! That’s us! Thanks Associated Press!

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and hilarity ensues…

Vice Magazine Goes Bomb Shopping

Terrifying.
This is the kind of information that causes my brother to freak out and stay up nights. To call me with plans for food and weapons stockpiles and for far out camps and backwoods living.
I am led to remember stories my father told me of growing up on targeted east coast military bases during the Cuban missile crisis. The fear that at any moment, anywhere, everything could change.
Instantly.
This fact was made very clear nine years ago.
I’m not one for nationalistic remembrances or imminent foreign bogeymen, but historically, factually speaking, the 2001 attack has become the major influence on the American psyche and the direction of the nation in this century.
It is what it is.
There will be more. It is an unfortunate inevitability.
Nets only hold so much and something always gets through.
That is scary.
There are so many crazies and wack-o’s and extremist nutbags….
in America, much less around the globe.
Look at the wack-a-mole militia group in Michigan last weekend.
Again, scary.
But it shouldn’t be crippling.
Watching the Vice video, I couldn’t help but realize the editor was making the exact face I imagine my brother to make while watching.
An intense bewilderment mixed with a very real and sincere terror.
Absolutely, guys.
I agree.
But….
There’s cancer in the air and cancer in the sea.
We all just need to keep on trucking anyway.
My dad’s arm told me so.

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so many days…

would be better with Gorilla Biscuits.

Dear youth,
I miss you. Stagedives did make me feel more alive.
love, me.

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Filed under: awesome shit that never happens anymore.

Seriously. Wojtek.
The soldier bear.
This guy carried artillery shells. Smoked cigarettes. Drank beer. Wrestled his fellow enlisted men.
And captured enemy spies.
Yup. Captured enemy spies.
In his shower.
This will never happen in any war, any where, ever. Never again.

Also at BOTW.

Suck it nazis

Immediately following the whole nazi/Europe/Russia thing kicking off, a couple months after Hitler started steamrolling Poland, Russia decided Finland was looking pretty good. Right easy pickings. Little did they realize just how rugged and ready the Finns were. The Finns were prepared to party. Russia invades after creating just cause by shelling their own border guards. Finland defends.
Enter “White Death”, aka. “Badass-super-killy-sniper-dude”, aka. Simo Häyhä.
He racked up around seven hundred kills in a little over three months. Which explains why a small force, outnumbered a hundred to one, was able to keep Mother Russia at bay. Eventually poor Simo had half his face blown off. But still stayed healthy enough to live to about 96 years of age.
Bananas.
To be fair he only accomplished a little over 500 of those kills with a sniper rifle.
Yeah, an iron sights Mosin-Nagant bolt action rifle.
Double bananas!!
For those that don’t know M/28.
This guy would hide in the freezing cold, eating snow, killing Russians.
When asked how he was so good, he responded “Practice”.

5'3" Simo

Who you calling little!

Seen at Environmental Graffiti

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my new attitude

I need to adopt this guy as my new role model.

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rainy sundays

late starts, early endings, reading in between.
pre spring storms dragging winter in behind them.
i sit and dream of small wooden sailing dinghies, flat coves, cheap Maine land, and words.
sitting in pale afternoon light,
wind and rain,
stale rooms and cold feet.

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not cool!

To balance out the previous “stuff I’m stoked on” style post, here’s something I’m not so stoked on. Earth orbit altering earthquakes and the impending doom-quake scheduled for the near future off of New England.

Dear god-thing entity,
I’m currently looking at property in Maine. Is this going to prove to be a bad investment?
Love, me.

Big bad doomy death-quake talk.

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