ever further stealth

ever further stealth

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Saturday, December 26, 2009

Kerouaaaayyyyyy

It is Christmas day 2009 and I am in Tahoe City after my Bend-er and Bachelor shred mission successes. Luke and the two lovely kiwi girls Rachel and Lucy are preparing our jerry rigged Christmas dinner in the tiny kitchen of the tiny studio apartment. The scene is smokey from the chicken juices overflowing out of a too-shallow pan and onto the bottom of a hot oven. Each time the oven is opened a smoke signal goes up only a few feet before it hits the ceiling and spreads its mass throughout the small entirety of the apartment. Good thing there is no smoke detector.

I wander over to the maroon textbook of Kerouac Road Novels that Kaleb left with me until our next rendezvous, which will be in NYC in the springtime. I start at the beginning with On the Road, and there, in the first few pages comes another Kerouac revelation. Words spoken in my mind quite often recently, written by Jack in 1957—the same thoughts spread over a few decades.

I had Kerouac in my head for the last few months, wanting to read him, and here I am in possession of six of his works in one old hardcover text. The universe once again, being the ceaseless provider. This is that thought of mine that he wrote over half century ago. I am sure there will be more to come.

But then they danced down the streets like dingledodies, and I shambled after as I’ve been doing all my life after people who interest me, because the only people for me are the mad ones. The ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulouas yellow roman candles exploding like candles across the stars, and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes, “Awww!”

Before sleep I read this beautiful line:

Somewhere along the line I knew there’d be girls, visions, everything; somewhere along the line the pearl would be handed to me.

Monday, December 21, 2009

Rideshare Post

The Van is cruisin' to Tahoe on Wednesday or Thursday (Bend to Tahoe City)


Date: 2009-12-21, 6:24PM PST
Reply to: comm-t8tp4-1520574407@craigslist.org [Errors when replying to ads?]


Hello fellow travelers, I will be leaving the beautiful town of Bend on either Wednesday or Thursday and arriving in the North Lake Tahoe area shortly thereafter. I have a big van so I can fit you and all your friends/snowboards (skiers get strapped to the roof) for a comfy ride. Gas money is the best form of compensation but I am open to bartering for the ride as well. Price can be discussed since the van guzzles gas and I just wouldn't find it fair to make you split it even with me unless you were hauling some gear...Roundabout 40-50 bucks would do the trick I reckon...

Other forms of accepted currency are healthy food and green herbs, a place to live and/or work in North Lake area, alot of beer of any quality, a cool bicycle, a pair of snowboard goggles, or just gimme some good karma and a smile.

I'm 26 but act like an intelligent 12 year old with too much saltwater in his skull.
Best way to contact me is at 516-459-1644.
See you soon.

  • Location: Bend to Tahoe City
  • it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests

Kerouac Paragraph

Opened up a copy of Desolation Angels that is lying around the dungeon den today and right towards the beginning there were some smooth sentences that make a whole lotta sense. JK spends 70 days alone working as a mountain lookout in northwest Washington on Desolation Peak. Towards the end of his solitude he writes:

Hold together, Jack, pass through everything, and everything is one dream, one appearance, one flash, one sad eye, one crystal lucid mystery, one word -Hold still, man, regain your love of life and go down from this mountain and simply be---be---be the infinite fertilities of the one mind of infinity, make no comments complaints, criticisms, appraisals, avowals, sayings, shooting stars of thought, just flow, flow, be you all, be what it is, it is only what it always is---Hope is a word like a snow-drift--- This is the Great Knowing, this is the Awakening, this is Voidness--- So shut up, live, travel, adventure, bless and don't be sorry--- Prunes, prune, eat your prunes--- And you have been forever, and will be forever, and all the worrisome smashings of your foot on innocent cupboard doors, it was only the Void pretending to be a man pretending not to know the Void--

He experienced that revelation in 1957. I am living that slowwwwwwww awakening in 2009. I guess I need to find the top of a mountain and hang out for a bit.

Friday, December 11, 2009

December Surf Mishun

    So seven days have just been enjoyed (once again) in an amazingly random place on the Oregon coast (the real OC).  I arrived last Friday evening.  Tonight, this Friday evening, is the first time clouds appeared in the sky.  Two of the days were filled with massive, unpaddleable swell and I got to see some towsurf action go down.  Dudes were ripping high speed turns on this little mountain shaped steamroller of a right.  The other 5 days during my stay each gave me  at least one wave, which is all you need.  
     Well, all you need is Love, according to the Beatles.    And according to many other people and me, Love is everything flowing around and through us.  Therefore, since a wave made of water has a flow more powerful than our feeble carcasses could think....waves are Love.  
      It was a frigid low fahrenheit thirties everyday with a crisp offshore wind blowin' like tapioca froth out over the fifty fahrenheit degree ocean.  Add that low lying northern northern hemisphere winter sun and I' am just a stoked bloke runny egg yolk.  
     Today was the sealer of the deal with a light southerly rip, tide sucking out, and peaks coming through wherever I awaited.  I fluffed a whole lot of good waves which always happens but is supposed too.  It gives us a chance to laugh at ourselves...after all we are all pretty goofy lookingacting creatures when you think about it.  The waves that were granted to me were just so clean and with such an elegant shape...the work of a master craftswoman for suuuuure.      
    There was a cool portobello mushroom lookin' jellyfish in the water that I had never seen before.  I just thought of making jellyfish lamps...I'm sure someone has already thought of that but right now was the first time I  ever thought of it.  
   There were a few waves during this mission that I paddled over passing right next to the pure zone, seconds from being eaten and as I punched through the back in ninja-duck position, the curl of each wave would play in silence, burned into my brain like when you stare directly at a bright light.  
    Bright light? Waves? Love?  The complex, chaotic silliness that is being. 
    So the moral of this half baked tale is that it does not matter what you are doing, just as long as you remember to play like a child (but thankfully for me, I'm now equipped with slightly bigger muscles) and get silly.  Dancing is good all the time, especially in small groups, it allows the energy continue to move freely throught space and time.  Fascinating stuff...
     If you have  two hundred dollars lying around you can go purchase Carl Jung's Red Book and mindsurf it for the rest of your existence probably.  I was fortunate enough  to be placed in the universe in a space where a fresh copy of it was opened for the first time, at that same time also.  Just two mother aged women giddy as when they were schoolgirls, and me, the funny hat wearing tan kid with a childish grin on his face who was amazed at the power of going with the flow.  The coolest things happen at just the right moments.  Take a half hour walk on the beach, find an old washed up little kid's bicycle and carry it up to this pointy rock outcrop and place it on top like a flag, on the way back, pop into a cool looking used bookshop, grab a book about the native plants of Kauai out of the free book box, and then watch this woman bring this massive red book up to the counter for purchase.  "What's that you say? Carl Jung?" 

 Seriously...It is easier to be happy than we thought, and you need barely anything, just a smile and a belly full of healthy food.

Thursday, December 10, 2009

craigslist rideshare ads

 These are the ads I just posted for the next leg of the mission...I got kinda baked first so I was making all kinds of funny faces at what I was writing. Enjoy.

OFFERED Ride: Lincoln City to Eugene to Bend Saturday around noonish (Lincoln City)


Date: 2009-12-10, 10:51PM PST
Reply to: comm-axtzt-1504901352@craigslist.org [Errors when replying to ads?]


I will be leaving L City at hopefully noon but we all know how planning goes. I'm 26 and my van is 20 and rides like a boat on a glassy day. There's plenty of room for stuff and people of all shapes and sizes. I'll be stopping in to Eugene to pull the eagle swoop on my buddy K-Leb and then we are cruisin' through to Bend hoping to get there in the evening-ish. Ideally, you have gas money to contribute, but if you are poor like me and would rather barter for the ride, I'm all ears. Best way to find me is by calling 516 459 1644 and waiting until I pick up. I can drop you anywhere reasonably close to central Eugene then Bend. See you soon. : ) 


  • Location: Lincoln City
  • it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests

  • Offered to Bend Saturday afternoon (Eugene)


    Date: 2009-12-10, 11:02PM PST
    Reply to: comm-u3svh-1504906085@craigslist.org [Errors when replying to ads?]


    Cruisin through in the stealth van with Bend in the evening being the destination. With all the good vibes in the van it is easy to cram as many people and things in there as possible so please, bring the family. Gas money is most appreciated, unless you have a huge sail and it is incredibly windy out of the west. Call 516-459-1644. C you. 

    • Location: Eugene
    • it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests

      Sunday, December 6, 2009

      Random rhymes from the dusty rhyme book

      hell bent
      rhythmic rhetoric
      subjects and predicates 
      not for the faint of heart
      or the illiterate

      Your liver will be signed, sealed, and delivered to shivers and you can't get it back like an indian giver.

      For Huxtable effects you need a cause, B.
           Yeah? but how much is that gonna cost me?
      Well, you can paint my picket fence white 
      dressed in Robin Hood's men's tights for ten nights.
      I dunno man, I just say what my pen writes, dendrites.

      On your own ain't all alone but within.
      Perfection is procured when puzzle pieces are fit in
      the right spaces in the right places at the right time.
      There is no wrong way to have a right mind.

      May it all come true not false.
      Check your head before you check your pulse.

      scream
            get it out
                          vent
      smash shit
           get bent
      rage,
      rampage,
      repent.

      head spinning
      like the go-round
      that's merry

      travelling
      at light speed
      thats fast
                   very

      Wednesday, December 2, 2009

      Turn off the TV and read...then Twitter that you are reading

      Cool things written by others that I am writing here, because they are cool (the people and the things they said) and sometimes the brain needs poking and provoking if its always choking (on “filler” thoughts):

      Australian Aboriginal teachings :

      We are all visitors to this time, this place. We are just passing through. Our purpose here is to observe, to learn, to grow, to love. . . .and then we return home.

      “Free giving” and generosity are fostered in children at a young age. The act of sharing is an instinctive reflex in aboriginal people.

      The vagina is very hot, it is fire and each time the penis goes in it, it dies.

      The exaggeration of self-importance, which we call fame, distorts the flow of interrelationships and shatters the sense of belonging that forms the web of society.

      Aging occurs as a result of a loss of connection with the spirit of earthly life.

      Rainbows: From this direct union of fire and water, the refracted light unveils a perfect circular arch in which the entire potential of the world of form and color delicately manifests.

      Steinbeck from “Of Mice and Men” : As happens sometimes, a moment settled and hovered and remained for much more than a moment. And sound stopped and movement stopped for much, much more than a moment.

      Douglas Adams from “Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy” (which found me, not I it) : The effect of drinking a pan-galactic gargle blaster is like having your brains smashed out by a slice of lemon wrapped round a large gold brick.

      There comes a point I’m afraid where you begin to suspect that if there’s any real truth, its that the entire multi-dimensional infinity of the universe is almost certainly being run by a bunch of maniacs.

      Dostoyevsky from “Brothers Karamazov Part 1”, written a helluva long time ago : Everywhere today the mind of man has ceased, ironically, to understand that the true security of the individual does not lie in isolated personal efforts but in general human solidarity.

      A.C. Bhaktivedanta Swami Prabhupada from “Beyond Birth and Death” :

      We are eternal so why should we be interested in temporary things?

      Travel is part of the nature of the living entity.

      Reality means existence which cannot be vanquished; reality means eternity.

      Tom Sharpe from “The Throwback” : All in all, Sandicott Crescent was the height of suburbia, the apex of that architectural triangle which marked the highest point of the topographical chart of middle class ambition.

      Thomas Paine from “The Age of Reason” written in the late 1700s

      My own mind is my own church.

      The Christian theory is little else than the idolatry of the ancient mythologists, accommodated to the purpose of power and revenue.

      The word of God cannot exist in any written or human language.

      The church has setup a religion of pomp and of revenue, in pretended imitation of a person whose life was humility and poverty.

      Since, then, no part of our earth is left unoccupied, why is it to be supposed that the immensity of space is a naked void lying in eternal waste? There is room for millions of worlds as large or larger than ours.

      The only idea we can have of serving God, is that of contributing to the happiness of the living creation that God has made.

      It is incumbent on every man who reverences the character of the creator, and who wishes to lessen the catalogue of artificial miseries, and remove the cause that has sown persecutions thick among mankind, TO EXPEL ALL IDEAS OF REVEALED RELIGION, AS A DANGEROUS HERESY AND AN IMPIOUS FRAUD.

      Thomas Paine from Thomas Paine (badass motherfucker):

      Poverty is a thing created by that which is called civilized life.

      My country is the world and my religion is to do good.