DOVO
Raisermesser sind im Vergleich zu modernen Klingenapparaten bis auf wenige Ausnahmen aus einem schnitthaltigen, jedoch nicht rostgeschutzem Stahl und bedurfen sorgfaltiger Pfledge, d.h. sie sind nach Gebrauch stets zu reinigen und trocken zu wischen. bei langerer Lagerung sollten sie leicht gefettet sein.
Danke, tier.
I get to go spend some time playing around in the Insex studio tomorrow! (www.insex.com ) – On Sir C’s invitation I get to spend the day with a good friend playing with neat stuff.
I so covet some of this gear….
I hear the roar of a big machine
Two worlds and in between
Hot metal and methedrine
I hear empire down
I hear empire down
I hear the sons of the city and the dispossessed
Get down, get undressed
Get pretty but you and me,
We got the Kingdom, we got the key
We got the empire, now as then,
We don’t doubt, we don’t take direction,
Lucretia, my reflection, dance the ghost with me
We look hard
We look through
We look hard to see for real
Such things I hear, they don’t make sense
I don’t see much evidence
I don’t Feel
I hear the roar of a big machine
Two worlds and in between
Hot metal and methedrine
I hear empire down …
We got the empire, now as then,
We don’t doubt, we don’t take reflection,
Lucretia, my direction, dance the ghost with me …
The Sisters of Mercy- Lucretzia, My Reflection (Adbridged)
From JK:
“In my college psychology class, I interviewed children for a paper about vegetarianism, and in answer to my question, “Is a cow who is going to be turned into a hamburger happy?” one boy said, “Yes, because it gets to be meat for me.”
So it’s not just making me crazy.
I’m getting out tonight- back out among the “scene”. It’s amazing how a room so crowded can be so empty. I don’t expect to find the answer of what I need out there- but I’m certainly not going to find it here, at home.
I have sent a mass email out to those who’se company I like to keep, in hopes that I would be in good company regardless of my chances of finding a fix.
The people I know who could actually feed this hunger are nowhere accessable… One is in her own private hell, another has dropped out of sight without a word, the last is far, far away.
So I go to the crackerjack box and look for a diamond.
Disarm you with a smile
Cut you like you want me to
Cut that little child
That side of me that’s such a part of you.
O the years burn
O the years burn burn
Burn
What I choose is my voice
What’s a boy supposed to do?
The killer in me is the killer in you, my love.
I send this smile over to you.
The Smashing Pumpkins - Disarm
It’s going to have to be soon.
When I went out, I was kidding myself that I was not looking for anything in particular. But I was. It showed in what I packed- lengths of rope, jennings gag, gloves. Pacing inside my head was a hungry vision, looking to feed.
Ropes for the tears and the sentance that they hand down. Gloves for that extra layer of distance, making the most intimate contact a violation. The gag to show me what I want to see, what I always want to see.
But all that is just window dressing for what I really want. The private hell of the ropes is just a curtain jerker. Then the words would start, the whispers, the poison. More than ever, if I am not deep insde someone.. chewing, gnawing, ripping… then I am wasting my time.
The place might as well have been empty.
It’s still rattling it’s cage, pacing my skull. Hissing.
Someone is going to have to bleed for me.
It’s going to have to be soon.
“Is it any wonder I can’t sleep…”
-The Smashing pumpkins, Eye
There have been a lot of things made clear to me. A great deal of it is about settling, about passive acceptance of “what is.”
Every so often I have met people who have changed my perspective about “what is”- and what has to be. Ken, for example- a drastic shift in my perspectives of “what is”, and what the world has to offer. He has influenced my life in a lot of positive ways. My friend Danny, my friend Ron. RZS. Sir C. I have been blessed with teachers, and opportunities to learn.
Since Mother saw fit to bless me in my last trip cross- country, a lot of things have become clear- including a fact I find unsettling, and a little sad. I went into the public leather scene looking for mentors and like minds- and for family, a sense of roots, of community. I have no roots of my own, so I thought I had found them there. I got involved in mailing lists and numerous leather groups.
Since I have returned, I have come to understand that the feeling of kinship I fgelt with most of these people with this “community” – was never really what I tried to make it, what I wanted it to be.What I still wish it was, or could be.
I have met some great people, don’t get me wrong. And from that handful, I have met a small handful of real gems. Family. Perfect Jeff, Ken, Sir C, David and his little girl Kate, Judy, a few others… people who I feel a kinship with. These are my tribe. The rest…
I feel no connection with them.
They may be great people, my friends, my aquantances… but they are not my peers, not my tribe. They use words and those words are stripped of meaning. Often, once they have mangled an idea beyond recognition, they make it their business to disseminate this newspeak far and wide, making some sort of mark on their world. Maybe they get trophies, or have a newsletter. I dunno.
The majority of them I feel distant from.
They are not my kin.
They do not speak my language.
They never have- and I am growing even further away from their world.
I am going to stick with TES, I made commitments. I want the organization to prosper, to grow… and maybe I can help it grow, even a little, towards ideas that mean something in my world. I’ll keep skimmimg through, hoping to find yet more lost members of the tribe. It’s still important to me.
But I cannot keep going through the motions. it tastes like ashes in my mouth.
” I used to want buyers for my words.
Now I wish someone would take me away from words.
I’m so tired of what I’ve been doing.
Then one image without form came,
and I quit.
Look for someone to tend the shop.
I’m out of the image making business.
Finally I know the freedom of madness.
A random image arrives. I scream,
“Get out!” it disintigrates.
Only love.
Only the holder the flag fits into,
and wind. No flag.”
Rumi – No Flag (Abridged)
Slowly but surely, things are starting to come together.
It’s a genuine, honest pleasure- having some idea of what to do next, to have goals. It’s a peaceful place. Amazing how much energy I have expended my whole life avoiding it.
I’m not going to talk about this, really. I don’t want to dissapate the energy, the warm glow of my new secrets. I just want some people to know that I really am all right- and, in fact, am better than I was. This sucks sometimes, the clarity is not always there- but there is a momentum to it, and I’m riding this wherever it takes me.
Earlier in this weblog I asked my Mother for help, for guidance.
Thank you, Mother.
…
And now, for the secret decoder ring portion of our evening:
What I tell you three times is true.
How priveliged am I, my Mother’s son, to have the chance to meet myself three times in one lifetime? How beautiful. How beautiful.
How beautiful.
“Well”, I thought. “This is how the world works. All energy flows according to the whims of the Great Magnet. What a fool I was to defy him.
He knew. He knew all along.”
-Hunter S. Thompson- Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas
So- in the middle of catastrophic upheaval- some comedy.
I was deep in gut wrenching, stomach emptying hell. I had been churning up gouts of black bile. I was just a stomach, convulsively heaving up poison as fast as I was able to make it. It was, in a word, icky.
I had just gotten to the turning point- I had drank quite a lot of milk, and it had soaked up what must have been a ridiculous amount of stomach acid. When I vomited, I coughed up solid chunks. It had curdled so efficiently in the acid storm of my guts it was coming up as dumplings. This, by the way, was making me feel better, in a way. Not a good way… but a way.
My blood sugar was so high, I realize in retrospect that I was delerious- certainly not thinking clearly. I was in serious danger.
My twin (who was taking as good care of me as I would allow in my deranged state) cautiously handed me the telephone. It was Soulhuntre, with news.
In the middle of this horror, I started to laugh.
How could I not?
It was the aftershock after an earthquake. So much stress and horror, definitions of my life firebombed away like Dresden in what turned out to be a drastic turning point in my life. Everything I knew was wrong, everything was different, I was somewhere in the nieghborhood of dying. It was like sitting in a burned out building- nothing but smoke and ruin…
And somebody hits you with a rubber chicken.
Honk.
What Ken told me about was this:
> Hi there,
> For many of you, this is the first time you have heard from me in a
> while and you are probably wondering “what the ?”.
> Fact is, recent
> events cause me to cut off all communication with a) anyone still
> interacting with Matt on a social basis and b) those still involved with
> the public scene.
> Matt (aka Flagg) had found out that I was working on an outwardly
> vanilla relationship with a guy named Mark and working on a professional
> career (you know, the ones where you work and then get a paycheck and
> then pay all of your bills…I’m sure the whole notion is quite foreign
> to him).
> Anyway, he found out Mark’s last name and called his ex-girlfriend to
> try to get information about him.
> Matt told her all sorts of “sick
> stories,” referring to The Estate website and foolish-house.com, (the
> site that Sierra and I built for him).
> Apparently, Mark has also been
> receiving harassing emails at his work. The possible threat to his job
> was too much for Mark to reconcile and he has ended our relationship.
> The good news is that my new place is far enough away from Mark’s that
> we probably won’t run into each other very often, as that would be
> extremely awkward.
> I’m very angry and hurt, but I feel bad for Mark,
> having never asked for this kind of harassment.
> For those of you who are still in contact with Matt
> you can tell him that he wins
> he got what he wanted: I’m hurt and angry and I’m gone.
> Feel free to spread the word.
I laughed. It made everything make sense. It was absurd.
After I recovered, I took another look at it.
I’ve been quiet about this person, l kept my personal feelings silent while she raged at what she considers to be an unfair and hostile universe, where “Karma cannot happen fast enough”. In general, I’ll continue to do so.
But seeing as this was a public announcement, I’ll simply respond here.
If someone DID do this to her and her boyfriend, it was a shitty and miserable thing to do. I did no such thing. I literally had no idea about her life- and honestly, could not have cared less.
But personally, I doubt it happened.
Let alone the fact that I had no idea, and no concern. Let alone that I had been in Seattle for the last two weeks- and never interacted with anyone in her circle of friends in any case. Let alone no evidence can (or ever will) be offered. Let alone that I simply don’t care.
If there is truth up there, it’s that a relationship did not work out, and someone to blame- someone who one feels “deserves it” for crimes real and imagined is obviously the best way to strike out at the unfair universe.
I’m genuinely sorry things did not work out….
but this- this is silly.
