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  • Beach Death Session 2 – A Mini-Symposium hosted by Vultures, Ravens, and Bald Eagles

    Posted on September 29th, 2009 MudBug 29,191 comments

    The islands are riddled with deer, thanks to the lack of any predators ‘cept those that kill with cars or powder.  As a result, many of the youthful prey animals find themselves unable to create a life for themselves in the places where they are born.

    Most find a way to eke by, tonguing carrots from the tourists and greyhairs, taking sneaky hits of herbs from  gardens, and accepting a shadow life filled with vermin, overcrowding, and wandering.

    The stubborn ones get it in their bony head that there’s something more out there.  They stare at the horizon and let the green trees and clear beaches fill their minds with poison dreams.  One morning they walk into the water and start swimming, challenging the world to show them more.


    Most end up like this.  On another beach, but without the spark of their dreams to keep them moving.  Transformed into something new, their eyes and orifices become the meals of ravens, their skin feed the crabs and sandworms, and their flesh eventually satiates the eagles and the vultures. It’s not a sad thing, and the benefactors welcome their new found friend with ritual and observance.  An age-old question of Try-and-Die, or live in squalor.


  • Beach Death – A Mini-Symposium hosted by Vultures, Ravens, and Bald Eagl

    Posted on September 28th, 2009 MudBug 37,314 comments

    OceanOtter1There’s nothing more Metal than a death-grimace.  This Otter suffered catastrophic failure of the rib cage, based on my amateur forensics.  But, even cooler than the cause of death, is this second picture – where the skin doesn’t fit the skull – all I can think of is coming out of hyperspace after a particularly difficult crossing, and finding your skin took a slightly different path.  It still fits and it functions adequately at keeping your guts in, but you sure as hell feel like someone else for a long time.  And, you always fear the wind will just blow it off of you at the most inopportune moment.


  • For my friends in hipster lock-up down south

    Posted on September 25th, 2009 MudBug 31,501 comments


    Friday afternoon work-beer goes out to all of you trapped in down there in pabst-ruled hipster lockdown.  I tip each ice-cold,  maltysmooth, bubblesip in your honor.  The Free live in the shadow of Rainier, and the truly Free live in her 5′oclock shadow.  rAle for what ails you.

    I’ve been carryin’ some heavy melancholy as the season changes – watching total beauty in the harvest/NaturalShutdown of the nutrient cycle.  Fearing the winter, and already feelin’ her cold dark nails tearing at my eyes.  This winter is gonna be a right bitch, but on the other side I can already hear the dutch countryside singing.  Roadburn 2010.  I don’t need to get it tattooed cuz i’ve got scar tissue from the future forming on my arms and around my eyelids – it appears we lost atmosphere the next time around – pack for Space.