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."

Beauty and Pain in Nature

The Painted Bunting is to me the prettiest bird in nature. We've been seeing a few in our neck of the woods and I finally got my binoculars on one for a while.

Beautiful.

Adena found one dead in the road while walking the dogs. Probably hit by a car.

I came home from work yesterday to a very upset wife and two dogs that did their best against a local porcupine. (They pretty much lost.) We drove down to Blanco - calling ahead to the Vet and asking him to stay late.

$250 later, the dogs were ready to go and to my dismay the Vet told me the dogs usually don't learn too well and will more than likely do it again when given the chance.

Phoebe had them quills in her lips, gums, and a big batch of them stuck in the roof of her mouth. We pulled a few out with pliers, but there was just too many.

Hank had one all the way through his tongue.

Dumb dogs.

Beauty and pain in nature. Hmmmmm. I'd love to have seen the porcupine. I bet he was a pretty animal actually.

Dogs didn't think so though.

soldiers reduced to the status of a smart soccer mom?

How to appear smart articles are a signpost of a degenerative culture - superficial and shallow at best. One of the tips is to speak with an English accent. To the credit of the zine, book reading is good but mostly because "people will respect and admire you for possessing some [culture]".

Now I know why I like to read.

I was going to comment on the struggles Iraq war veterans are having re-assimilating into American life and the general loss of masculinity in our culture along with places to express it. Returning soldiers "missed the exhilaration and camaraderie of the war zone" when returning to banal American life finding that the "passivity of consumerdom is not enought to keep society sane".

My son is in Iraq and says he won't have any trouble re-adjusting when he gets back to civilization. He also says he's stayed this long because he likes making the big money and is a consumer at heart: likes to buy lots of stuff.

Maybe it won't be hard for him. I hope not.

Lost in self-referential thinking?

Eyesore of the Month by James Howard Kunstler

This is an interesting visual self-reference where one should not be needed. Be sure to check out the other architectural eyesores and comments. Well worth it.

Magritte would appreciate this I think. (Or not.)

Magritte's Label and Mickey Mouse's Soul

The first visual semiologist - Magritte himself has finally been named.

I've always been fascinated with the mystery of language and the emphasis and confusion surrounding words, images, their meanings within contexts and the separation between things in one's mind versus "things" in the world.

This leads one to study things like General Semantics, modern Physics (the philosophical implications), Zen, and to appreciate novelists like Walker Percy and directors like David Lynch.

Something to do with the disjunction of superficial socially required survival tactics and the underlying or at least disjointed bulk of reality - it constantly comes up around me.

Recently, Magritte's paintings speak enough to me that I've decorated my work cubicle with ironically easy enough to snatch from the web and print on a two-cubicle-next-door printer and then pin-cushion them to my my short pseudo wallish separating panels. (You can call them walls if you want - but they're not.)

Of course no one consciously appreciates this art. But how could someone living 8 hours a day in a cubicle not understand the apple in a box picture? Or keep a toothbrush, comb, and snack in their drawer without relating to the accessories in a cube painting? Or even the fact that these people put up pictures of outside views when they themselves have no window and don't see true daylight ever during their long work shift? This should at least cause them to appreciate any of Magritte's framed paintings or pictures of people floating in clouds.

Its all a mystery to me.

Today I feel like the guy with no face that's simply seen as another apple. A commodity with no essence. No different than any other consumable piece of fruit. (I started this looking for that picture to pin up on my "wall".)

You know the writer Bukowski said that he hated the image of Mickey Mouse? He said it was a completely soul-less character. Is that the warning hidden within? That if we ain't careful, we can turn into faceless, soul-less, Darth Vaderish semi-human objects with all our meanings wrapped up in words within our minds or on our tongues while losing our own spirits?

My son recently told me he read Brave New World and could relate to the savage whom everyone admired but who could not himself assimilate into modern society.

I can relate to him also. And this Brave New World depresses me. Many an artist saw it coming. That's fascinates me.

And I never did like Mickey Mouse now that I think about it.

(I like Magritte's paintings though. They tell me that I'm not the only one stunned by these mysteries.)