We Can't Make It Here Anymore

the scariest essay i've ever read mostly because it rings so true... this should probably be read while listening to James McMurtry's "We can't make it here anymore" song... you can downloaded it for free if you don't have the CD yet. (it's a great CD, by the way, so you should get it.)

2 big hogs, 3 big fish, and 2 big cats

Ok... i know this is old-skool web, but hey it's fun. Here's a few photos i've snagged off the web that i've had for a while and have meant to post 'em as a page of "Big Animals". I'll probably never get around to it, even though i have the data, names, and such of where these animals came from somewhere deep in some file on some computer somewhere.... probably in my barn on an old hand-made box i used to use on my old ISDN line back in Houston... (whew... those were the days).

Anyway, here's 2 big hogs, 3 big fish, and 2 big cats. Click 'em and save 'em to disk or something.... just fun to look at.

One of these days i'll drag up the actual "python eating a man" picture. But its pretty gruesome.

Charles Bukowski Poems

I'm not a poetry reader but these were actually fun to read. Charles Bukowski was a horrible fellow who lived what I would call a horrible life that wrote good poetry. He eventually made some money at it, but I don't think he ever quit his job at the post-office.

Here's the one I liked the most.

NIGHT SCHOOL
from Dangling In the Tournefortia

in the drunk driver's class
assigned there by division 63
we are given tiny yellow pencils
to take a test
to see if we have been listening
to the instructor.
questions like: the minimum sentence for a
2nd drunk driving conviction is:
a) 48 days
b) 6 months
c) 90 days
there are 9 others questions.
after the instructor leaves the room
the students begin asking the questions:
"hey, how about question 5? that's a
tough one!"
"did he talk about that?"
"I think its 48 days."
"are you sure?"
"no, but that's what I'm putting
down."
one women circles all 3 answers
on all questions
even though we've been told to
select only one.

on our break I go down and
drink a can of beer
outside a liquor store.
I watch a black hooker
on her evening stroll.
a car pulls up.
she walks over and they
talk.
the door opens.
she gets in and
they drive off.

back in class
the students have gotten
to know each other.
they are a not-very-interesting
bunch of drunks.
I visualize them sitting in a
bar
and i remember why
I started drinking
alone.

the class begins again.
it is discovered that I am
the only one to have gotten
100 percent on the test.

I slouch back in my chair
with my dark shades on.
I am the class
intellectual.

Ease of Alteration Creates Woes for Picture Editors

This is old news, but in case you don't know the details, "Little Green Footballs blog" bustered a Reuters photographer for doctoring his photographs. Here's an example where he took two photos and merged them into one to make an American soldier seemingly waving off a father with one hand while holding a machine gun. The father is holding what appears to be a possibly wounded small child.

This is also the same blog responsible for revealing the details that led to the resignation of Dan Rather.

Now it seems that some photographers are actually staging photographs even to the point where they are digging up buried children.

Maybe Too Much Nature in this Texas Hill Country

Yesterday as I'm sitting down to eat supper I see through the window a baby deer crashing into the corner of the my back fence frantically looking for a way out. I knew in a heartbeat the dogs were chasing it and it somehow got stuck in my fenced four acres of woods.

I jumped up, hollared at my wife, found a couple of leashes and went running into the back shouting for my dogs.

After much hollaring and screaming and watching this spotted fawn run to and fro, I got the dogs leashed (who really were not in as hot pursuit as I thought) and figured I could chase the fawn from the corner where it now stood trying to squeeze between the fence and the rock wall and possibly out the front gate.

When I walked up to it, its face squeezed into the gate, I could see it injuries were probably not fatal but not pretty either. It let me pick it up (I folded its legs under to avoid getting kicked) and it bleeped helplessly like a sheep or a goat. I saw its mother a few minutes earlier at that corner looking worried, but she was now scared off into the woods. I picked the baby up over the fence and let her go. She went running out after her mom.

We were stressed. I went back and ate my cold supper. I told my wife, this hill country may just have a little too much wildlife.

It's starting to wear on my nerves.

Petting the Cat

I grew up with a mother who was obsessed about fat people and making fun of them. As kids we couldn't go to a family restaurant without my mom invariably pointing out some hefty person and their large order of food. It was embarassing but funny.

This is just funny.

A Dog Fight

I broke up a dog fight the other day... between Phoebe my American Bulldog and a Pit Bull a family member brought to the house. It was pretty ugly. My wife was screaming at the top of her lungs and I was trying to pull them apart. My hands were all bloody.

The Pit got a hold on Phoebe's neck but Phoebe couldn't get a grip back. Of course it was all fast and furious. She'd chomp down on my hand and I could feel her teeth sinking into my flesh and then feel her pull them out again. I could tell (it was kind of like slow-motion) she'd realize the taste and feel in her mouth was my hand so she would let go while spinning and turning and try biting again - usually right back my same hand.

The Pit latched on and started shaking trying to kill instinctively but only had her neck skin. She wasn't big enough to actually shake Phoebe to death. I couldn't rip them apart since it'd only tear up Phoebe's neck worse. The Pit wasn't about to let go.

My wife's father ran up all the way from the cabin welding a small log and clobbered the Pit Bull over the head. It let go and started to turn on him for a second. He threatened it with its life. After that it circled around to try and attack Phoebe - which I was holding back by the collar.

I guess it was my mistake for ever letting the two dogs come into contact in any kind of uncontrolled situation. They were peaceful with each other earlier. My wife's father - a born and raised Alabama man who grew up around country dogs - says, "In a situation like that, a dog doesn't understand anything but more pain."