Archive for the Novel Category

Once In a Blue Agave Moon: A Convergence of Many Things

Posted in Much Too Good For Children, Novel, Once in a Blue Agave Moon, The Knowledge of Good and Evil, The Liberation Through Hearing on August 4, 2017 by dreamlanddancing

 

True to form, Amy, Rebel, and Leigh-Ann all walked into the dining room in time to hear Chiana’s last question, as well as Jed’s answer, as he still held out his hand palm up, with the bright blue capsules containing The Knowledge.

Amy feigned a stage whisper from the side of her mouth: “I told you there was no hurry….”

Rebel just smiled and shook her head, winking at Chiana as she caught her glance.

Leigh-Ann, clearly amused, simply changed the subject. “This would probably be a good time to start showering and cleaning up. If that’s OK with you, where do we go?”

“Let me show you; it’s at the end of the hall. We’re very proud of what we have built in there. We did a lot of horse-trading and foraging to get what we wanted.” Chiana got up and walked over to the door and opened it. She made a sweeping gesture with her right hand as she did.

Amy and Rebel followed the two of them.

“Ta-da! Ladies, I hope this will help you forget that we are on the edge of the Post-Apocalyptic Everglades. The closet is filled with oils, emollients, soaps, bath salts, candles and incense. Much of it was gathered and prepared by me. The water is very hot, by the way, and we even have a steam jet over here.”

“The floor is unglazed tile, and there is a drain in the center. In addition to the commode, there is a bidet. Elliot couldn’t resist it…he really does everything he can to spoil me…I thought I could have done without it, but it was part of a deal we arranged when we got the tub, and all the marble, and I have to admit, I’m glad he did.”

“Holy shit! The Three Winds blurted simultaneously.

A redwood bench ran along one wall.

“What? No togas?” Rebel laughed. “Just kidding…I saw something like this in a mansion in LA once; one of the producers for Cal-Vista owned a house where we shot a film, and it wasn’t nearly as nice as this.”

“I gotta say, I am really impressed, but Amy and I better wait until after everybody else is finished before we go and use up all the hot water.” Rebel gave Chiana a knowing look as she gave Amy’s buttocks a soft squeeze.

“Y’all can draw straws to decide who goes first, but don’t worry about the hot water. We have a five-hundred gallon cistern that is initially solar heated, and stays quite warm year-round, which is then boosted up to one hundred twenty five degrees with an electric heater that also produces steam if you like.” Chiana looked like a proud parent on graduation day as she showed off the bathroom.

“I already turned on the generator before we started to eat, so it’s ready to go…and we have never run out of hot water, even if we were entertaining, so be our guests.”

“Elliott wasn’t joking when he said we have almost everything we need or want, and I can’t think of anyone with whom we would rather share our good fortune…besides, this is a big weekend to be enjoyed by all. Samhain, a full moon, and a blue moon….” Chiana’s voice trailed off as Rebel interjected:

“You know darlin’, we have a lot in common…more than I realized. We’ve been on the road so much lately than I haven’t paid much attention to the moon and the stars, but I think we have more than a few things to share this weekend…after we get clean and refreshed.” The Wiccan references did not go unnoticed by Rebel.

“I’m really looking forward to it, and thank you so much for your hospitality; it says a lot about your character, and I admire that.” Rebel, who was usually short on words and long on delivery, was clearly in no hurry as her rich drawl resonated off the marble. As she finished, she gently touched Chiana’s forearm.

(“So she has a soft spot after all.” thought Chiana, “Well good; maybe I can trust her. I could use an ally.”)

(“Of course you can. I only play tough when I think I have to, and I dare say, you are a pretty easy read…I mean that in a good way. Once you get to really know me, you’ll feel more comfortable with the intuition we share.”) Rebel looked deeply into Chiana’s eyes as she returned her gaze.

(“Well OK then…I hope you’re right.”) Chiana thought. She did not seem alarmed by the way their thoughts were so clearly conveyed between them.

(“If you can trust yourself to hear me, you will know I am right, and that this is as real as it gets.”) Rebel knew her words had hit their mark.

Both women stood there for just a moment longer. Sometimes it is hard to trust your heart to hear what words can only imply, if you have just the right chance with just the right person. To know….

(You know I have tried The Knowledge twice…but the fact that you can already hear me…read me if you will, means you’ve got a big headstart on this whole process. I’m really looking forward to the chance to share our knowledge.”) 

(“How do you know I will agree to take it?”)

(“Because I already know…and so do you. It’s in our future.”)

“Ladies if you don’t mind, then, I’ll go first.” If Leigh-Ann was privy to their intuitive dialogue, she gave no indication of it.

 

 

Namasté

नमस्ते

Chazz Vincent

08/03/2017

Once in a Blue Agave Moon: The Knowledge of Good and Evil

Posted in Drug Experience, Enhanced and Fortified non-fiction, Novel, Once in a Blue Agave Moon on July 28, 2017 by dreamlanddancing

 

Chiana had been listening intently to what Jed had been saying, trying to keep an open mind. She gave Elliott the occasional knowing look, and both of them tried not to break Jed’s train of thought.

Amy, Rebecca, and Leigh-Ann had already excused themselves to go outside to unpack, walk the dog, or wash down the bikes, although it was more of a ruse to allow Jed, Chiana, and Elliott to speak without interruption than anything else.

Once he was finished, she cradled Jed’s open palm that held the blue capsules as she also extended her other hand to grasp Elliott’s. As she spoke, she continually shifted her gaze from Jed to Elliott.

Chiana: “You need to know that I have a basic aversion to psychedelic drugs. I don’t want to see anything that isn’t there. That isn’t enjoyable, in fact, it terrifies me. I am too afraid of flipping out and not being able to handle it.”

“Elliott, as you know is quite at home in that sort of setting, although to the best of my knowledge, it has been a very long time since he has used any really strong psychotropic drugs. I now that you guys used to trip together from time to time back when you were close. I won’t attempt to speak for him on this, but my real question is Why? What is there to be gained from hallucinations?

Jed took a deep breath before he replied. “If we were talking about your garden variety LSD or even Psilocybin, we wouldn’t be having this discussion. As much as I have enjoyed using them, they are not even in the same league as The Knowledge”.

“Merlin, the chemist who invented it, was working for Merrick Pharmaceuticals on a next-generation anti-depressant. He suddenly realized that an analog isomer of one of the bi-products of the drug had some very interesting and unexpected properties which had the potential to re-write the table of contents in the brain in a way that meant that you not only would never forget anything you ever learned, but it encouraged the development of corollary associative neuron pathways that made connections between stored engrams which may not have seemed related in a way that could be useful in discovering answers that you already knew, but did not know that you knew.”

“What followed after that involved tweaking a few more side chain molecules and other changes in the chemical structure that even Merle did not initially anticipate, although continued use of the drug expanded his own comprehension and cognitive powers to an extent that lead him even further along.”

“He also soon realized that it could impart telepathic abilities that were even more enhanced when both parties were under the influence of the drug at the same time, although it was also quite successful in reading the minds of anyone you encountered.”

“But the real breakthroughs came when they gave it to Frederick, a Chimp/Bonobo hybrid who was technically a test animal and the property of Merrick. He was already capable of communicating in American Sign Language, but he began to exhibit cognitive abilities normally only attributed to humans.”

“When they gave it to him, it enabled them to bridge the gap between Reason and Instinct by virtue of what he could teach them…I don’t want to get too lost in describing something that will be instantly clear, once you take it…if you do choose to do so.”

“But it also allowed them to communicate with beings that exist in other dimensions, or parallel universes, if you like. These are beings that are here…everywhere, right now, that we can’t see because of gaps in our perception that become exceedingly clear, once you’ve had the experience.”

“Unlike most drugs, where the ‘thrill factor’ is the sole motivation, this is the most definitive, concrete way I know of to expand your consciousness, your perception, and your understanding of everything you see, everywhere you look. Suddenly, it all makes sense; and you can figure it out for yourself.”

“I won’t try to tell you that it isn’t exciting, or that you won’t want to do it again and again, at least for a while, because it is, in my experience the most exciting thing I have ever done.”

“It is as if everything you see or think about becomes connected, not only in a spiritual way, but physically, even scientifically, if you will.”

“It’s as if you can suddenly perceive the connections and reasons or causes of seemingly random phenomena.”

“Most people refer to something they call ‘insight’ regarding themselves, and their relationships with other people. It’s like being able to observe yourself from outside yourself.”

“Also, the effects tend to be cumulative in such a way that you not only require less and less of the drug to achieve threshold dosing, but eventually, the effects last longer each time.

“At this point, for instance, neither Merlin, nor Ash or Kali, as well as several members of their congregation take it except for very special occasions, like the initiation of a new member.”

“We have all taken it twice before together, and I can tell you we are all changed in a very positive and enriching way that goes so far beyond my abilities to describe it that I could never do it justice.”

“I don’t know anyone else in this world that I…well, that we would rather share this with than you two. This isn’t just some drug…it is a sacrament that transcends religion or any beliefs you may hold about the nature of the universe and our place within it.”

“They call it ‘The Fruit of the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil’ because Ash, the spiritual  of The Home of Wayward Souls compares it to whatever Adam and Eve experienced when they got ejected from the Garden of Eden, but that’s another story in itself.”

“Chiana, I don’t know if you are at all religious, but I do know that Elliott certainly wasn’t when we were last in contact, and I have no desire to join some church and drink the Kool-Aid (or vice-versa), but this will give you a glimpse of something so real, tangible, and finite, as well as something that transcends anything I can put into words that I could not pretend to be your friend and withhold it from either of you.”

“This is truly the most valuable thing I have ever possessed, even though I can get as much as I want of it anytime I want, as long as I am willing to go back down there to get more.”

Chiana did not speak for what seemed the longest of times. She kept looking back and forth between Elliott and Jed. One look at Elliott’s face and she knew his answer. She also knew that is was very easy to keep looking at Jed, even though it had nothing to do with trying to make a decision about whether or not to take the drug…or did it?

There are many times in any, even the best of relationships when a certain paucity of the absolute, unvarnished truth may seem necessary, and we may spend a lifetime trying to rationalize and justify it, even to the point of claiming that kindness, or love somehow motivates our actions.

Many people find it possible to avoid having to address those “necessary” falsehoods via any number of interlocking patterns of denial and obfuscations for an entire lifetime.

But in a lifelong relationship, it can also result in displaced anger, aggression, divorce, murder…maybe even cancer.

Chiana and Elliott loved each other deeply and truly, but not entirely, absolutely honestly…how many couples can claim otherwise?

Chiana knew Elliott had aways encouraged her to be honest and straightforward, without regard for his feelings, and that he believed that even painful realizations should be embraced fearlessly.

She also knew that there were times when Elliott volunteered more information than she cared to know, and she was quick to tell him so, although she sometimes wondered if that had been such a good idea.

Chiana, Elliott, and Jed all knew what was developing, and China knew that The Knowledge would soon make it impossible to ignore. She was fascinated by the concept of taking the drug, based on what Jed was saying, and also knew that it might just make it possible to embrace all of it with honesty and love.

There are no guarantees of anything in this world, but this was beginning to look like a very attractive possibility.

Chiana then surprised them all, (including herself) when she suddenly blurted out “How does it affect your sex life?”

For what seemed the longest time, no one spoke. Finally Jed broke into a grin so wide that were he a cat, the entire canary could have been hidden in his mouth.

“Speaking strictly for myself, and as a man I would say ‘Wonderfully’, …the same as it has everything else I have described so far.”

“But if you want to know how it affects women, I would suggest you ask The Three Winds. I am sure they would be more than happy to tell you, but I am also sure they will tell you to take it and find out for yourself…with them.”

 

Once in a Blue Agave Moon: (unk. chapter, out of sequence, tbd)

Posted in Economic Redistribution, Much Too Good For Children, Novel, Once in a Blue Agave Moon, Polyamory on June 1, 2017 by dreamlanddancing

 

Jed Drummond awoke to the smell of coffee and bacon. It had been a long day’s journey to reach their camp; a temporary outpost so far off the beaten path as not to be discovered, it afforded safety in its isolation and a hidden underground larder of fuel and other supplies that would be needed for the last leg of his journey.

It was one of many FBO’s (fixed base of operations) that he used to conduct his business ventures.

By the time he had pitched his tent and set up camp, he was exhausted. Thankfully he slept undisturbed for longer than he could remember. It was so quiet that the dog had not even barked once.

He had slept most of the night in the “dreamless sleep of the dead,” as he called it, and it wasn’t until early morning that he began to dream of earlier, simpler times so easy as to be taken for granted; so much so that they were more conspicuous in their absence than when their luxury was everywhere amidst a sea of humanity drowning in its discontent.

As he slowly awoke, like a fish coming to the surface from the bottom of the sea, he heard soft feminine voices in hushed tones and the occasional clink or clatter one would associate with breakfast’s preparations.

This alone was such a luxury as he had not known for a very long time. He was usually the first to awake, and until recently, more often than not, alone. Although rarely wanting for company, he had chosen to live alone ever since his divorce, more years ago than he cared to remember.

Phrases like “familiarity breeds contempt” or “absence makes the heart grow fonder” had been his guiding principles in times when the ambience of loneliness wafted like a heavy musk amongst the desperate souls trying fill a void that could not be displaced by money, security, or objects.

In the process, he had lost contact with all of his closest friends, mostly women, who grew weary of waiting for him to “seal the deal” despite the fact that he believed that somehow, circumstances even he could not foresee would bring them back together again.

He believed they all needed time and space to mature and learn life lessons they would never experience willingly at each other’s hands within the smothering, stifling influences of either marriage or even monogamy.

More than once, he had begun to doubt those beliefs, but there was no way to turn back the clock, and he already knew that the only thing worse than the pangs of solitude was the suffocating tandem loneliness bereft of privacy or independence that two resentful souls, each a prisoner of the other’s misguided and fearful intentions could inflict upon each other in the name of Love.

He was right that there was no way for him to turn back the hands of time, but the Armageddon Virus had effectively stopped the clock of Western civilization dead in its tracks.

A misguided, digital, binary Jihad launched by opportunists who invoked the name of Allah to distort the teachings of Islam, fed by the endless provocations of those who would use the names of their gods to fuel an endless spiral of hatred and violence on both sides, it had seemed the End of Days was upon them all.

Yet beyond that, it was pure chance that had brought them back together.

As he awoke this morning, finally realizing how much he now cherished this Here and Now moment amongst newly reunited old friends brought together by circumstance and common cause, this gratitude he felt was so overwhelming that he sighed deeply, eyes still unopened as he felt a lump grow in his  throat.

For years, he had not allowed himself the luxury of tears, whether of joy or sorrow. “Men don’t cry.” He had been raised to believe their was something wrong with him, even as a child, when circumstances too sorrowful for words had prompted him to allow his weakness to show, until early in his twenties, when his mother had died and his father, the toughest, yet kindest man he had ever known suddenly wept like a baby in front of him.

It so unnerved him that they never spoke of it again, until his father passed away, leaving him overcome with self-contempt over the most basic of human emotions.

Now, years later, in a world of chaos, loss, death, and despair, it had become the Tears of Joy that had been the hardest to suppress. Ironically, it had taken the collapse of Western civilization to put him in touch with an abiding sense of gratitude that permeated every blossom, or cool breeze, sip of clean water, or kind face he saw wherever he looked.

But old habits are hard to break, and as The Three Winds (as he called them) parted the flaps of his tent, bringing with them coffee, breakfast, and cannabis, he laughed and shook his head, coughing lightly to mask how glad he was just to be alive, right here, right now.

Chazz Vincent

05/31/2017

 

Once in a Blue Agave Moon: “…Go Ahead, I’m Listening…”

Posted in Liason, Much Too Good For Children, Novel, Once in a Blue Agave Moon on April 22, 2017 by dreamlanddancing

Chapter Sixteen, Part II

“Blue Agave Moon…I already have an idea for a label for it.” (Jed)

“But why?” (Elliott)

“Because you want people to identify with your product on sight.” (Jed)

“No…that’s not what I meant; I meant why make a market for it in the first place? I have almost everything I have ever wanted in my life right here, right now. I don’t want to be famous…I would prefer people did not even know I existed. I know this may surprise you, but I am really happier than I have ever been in my entire life. My life is simple and uncomplicated.” (Elliott)

”We haven’t even had to shoot any intruders for several months.” (Chiana)

“Remember what I said…the world is changing again…just like it always has been, except for the fact that people like you and I are in a position to maintain, er even increase our control over the parts of it that give you pleasure, satisfaction or security.”

“People are starting to get hypnotized by gold and silver again. Don’t ask me why…I could never figure out why emeralds were supposed to be worth less than a quarter of what diamonds the same size would bring, despite the fact that emeralds are nine times more scarce than diamonds, and I think, much prettier.”

“There are even some individuals who have managed to acquire enough material possessions and influence to be able to function as freestanding banks; they print their own money, and anybody who does business with them uses their money out of convenience.”

“Some are even providing support and logistics to people they know and trust in order to build, re-build or even supply payrolls for any kind of industry that can make something they consider valuable, including repair parts for other industries. It’s primitive and very limited, but there are people out there who intend to restore the parts of our infrastructure that will enable them to prosper and acquire wealth. (Jed)

“Most of these people have been financially involved with these new banks in the past, which makes it convenient to use their money as long as all the people involved agree to use it as a standard, because they trust the printer…they believe in his “wealth” so he doesn’t have to barter for what he wants.”

“In early post-colonial America, ‘Bank Notes’ printed by the institution that issued them were common, but counterfeiting was relatively easy back then, and they were almost useless in long-distance exchanges.”

“Before the internet collapsed along with the world banking system, remember that whole thing with bit-coins? As long as all parties concerned mutually recognize the value of anything, it can be used as money.”

 “Bartering is, as you already know, a time-consuming enterprise that is not without certain risks, of which we are all aware.”

“I have found a way of tapping into that stream of wealth in a way that affords me EVERYTHING I EVER WANTED as well as a very real connection with others who benefit from having me act as an intermediary between parties of like interest and values.” (Jed)

“Perhaps you neglected to notice that Elliott already said we have almost everything now, and we rarely ever need to leave our home…at least not without exposing ourselves to an outside world that is treacherous and fraught with many dangers.”  (Chiana)

“And what about those times when you did need to venture forth to find something you needed or wanted in a world of chaos and murder? (Jed)

“Well, it inevitably became a quest, an expedition of unknown length or magnitude that did not always yield the desired product, although sometimes we found something of value that we could convert into something that we could trade for what we really wanted, once we found the right source.” (Chiana)

“Exactly; and that is where I come in. Why leave home at all if you can use someone else to run your errands, assume the risk, and get you exactly what you need in less time with no danger to you while you stay at home and make more?” (Jed)

“Well, to tell the truth, sometimes I do get a bit restless…they used to call it ‘cabin fever’…I know it’s dangerous, but I actually looked forward to traveling and bartering, at least until we ended up someplace we didn’t want to be, or if things got ugly…and after two attempted ambushes and one unsuccessful robbery that turned into a real bloodbath…well, I do see your point.” (Chiana)

“I’m surprised she hasn’t shown you her scar already…I think she’s actually proud of it, considering the fact that the guy that shot her ended up taking a round through the left eye, which blew the back of his head off…single shot, fast draw. I was really impressed; I also tried to convince her that it wasn’t necessary to empty the rest of the magazine into his groin, but she was understandably angry and after all, it was her first kill…” (Elliott)

“It was all reflex. Elliott made me practice ’til I almost got to hating it. Now I understand why. It was all over before I had realized what happened…” (Chiana)

“Yeah, as I recall, that’s part of the gauntlet that Elliott has put us all through…it’s like a rite of passage…even back before Armageddon…I remember many an afternoon at Hialeah Gun Range or Tamiami…” (Amy looks wistfully and winks at Elliott as Chiana finds herself slightly surprised when she is forced to stifle a sudden jealous twinge.)

“It was like he has been warming up for the Apocalypse his whole life…back then it seemed more than a little edgy and slightly weird, even to me, but I guess he got the last laugh after all.” (Rebel/Jeanette)

“So you’ve got scars?” (Leigh-Ann)

“No…sorry, I don’t smoke…”  (Chiana)

(Everybody groans)

“It was just a grazing wound, thankfully…but it burned like hell almost instantly…before I had realized I already shot the guy…it passed right between my thighs, but grazed me here.” (Chiana pulls up the left leg of her cargo shorts right up to her crotch, revealing a three inch long keloid scar very high on the inside of her thigh)

“Hey, don’t stop on account of me…” (Jed)

“Don’t you think it’s a little early for the grand tour?” (Chiana)

“I think we’re getting a little bit off subject, even though this is a fascinating story …(Leigh-Ann) 

“I have to reluctantly agree, but the point is that you have created Paradise right here. To the best of my knowledge, no one else knows exactly who you are or where you live. That is good for many reasons, but one of the additional advantages of your anonymity is it lends an air of mystery and curiosity to your product.”

“If you tripled your output of Blue Agave Moon, there would still be enough demand to continue to raise the perceived value of the product.”

“In the process, after a mutually agreed percentage is set, I would propose to trade part of it back to you in return for lodging, hopefully with an option to become a citizen of your colony.” (Jed)

“Excuse me, but just to be clear, He means all four of us.” (Rebel)

“I stand corrected…yes, and we recognize the fact that you will want to discuss this with the fellow residents, and I am also sure that we can provide them with access to our services in a way that will be mutually beneficial to them as well.” (Jed)

“What percentage of what?” (Chiana)

“It depends on with whom I am trading. I’ll give you an example; say I trade a gallon of Blue Agave Moon to a weapons and munitions dealer that I know for a thousand rounds of 7.62 x 39mm…you still have your AK, right?” (Jed)

“Of course.” (Elliott)

“In fact, we have two now…Elliott gave me his Chinese Norinko semi-auto after he got a Bulgarian full-auto about a year ago.” (Chiana)

“Great! Now if we agreed to, say twenty percent commission, I would get two hundred rounds, which I could either keep or trade for something else I needed. Now, regardless of what I do with my share, in exchange for being allowed to live here, if I reduced my rate to ten percent commission, you would either get nine hundred rounds, or half of what I got if I traded my two hundred rounds for something else you also wanted.” 

“I also know several other people who trade in gold or silver, or their own printed money which is sort of a promissory note that is really only good in their own locale by people who deal with them. I know you have no interest in any of that, but I can use it to get you other things you want.” (Jed)

“Gold? I thought that got the kiss of death after the nuclear meltdowns under the Federal Reserve banks…why would anybody trust any gold…or silver?”

“Because I managed to acquire a sixties-era Geiger counter that had been made for Civil Defense issue during the cold war back when people were building bomb shelters in their basements and back yards. You’d be surprised at how much “hot” metal got into circulation before the public learned about it.” (Jed)

“That’s the problem with wealth and power…the more you get, the more you want. I am not sure I want to risk my autonomy and privacy for material things I don’t really need.” (Elliott)

“And I don’t want you to either; that’s why we want to live here too, but you need to remember that the world does not stand still. No matter how it evolves, those who have acquired the means of power will end up controlling those who have not…you need to prepare…even if it’s just to keep what they already have.”

“This is your chance to secure your position in the future.” (Jed)

 

Chazz Vincent

04/22/2017

 

Once in a Blue Agave Moon: A New Home at the End of the World

Posted in Economic Redistribution, Liason, Novel, Once in a Blue Agave Moon, The Tyranny of Evil Men on January 8, 2017 by dreamlanddancing

 

Imagine if cyber-terrorists had just hit the “reset” button on everything you had ever known or could imagine. Money was now only a theoretical construct and all the infrastructure upon which you had depended so much that you took it for granted no longer existed.
No job.
No employers.
Paper money was suddenly worthless and whatever you thought you had in the bank had evaporated overnight…and gold?…if you can’t eat it, can’t fuck it, and it can’t keep you warm or shelter you…what’s it really worth? Its true value is a sham that has hypnotized Man since nearly  the beginning of time.
No electricity.
No safe drinking water.
No Police or Emergency Services.
Every neighborhood swarming with murderers, robbers, rapists, and cannibals who lacked either the imagination or knowledge for self-sufficiency.
Do you dig in your heels, and barricade yourself in the midst of it all like Omega Man? Or do you gather whatever is now of real value to you and bid adieu to everything else and set out to re-discover sanctuary and re-invent the pursuit of happiness?
For almost all of North America, a job which was your work, or rather your place of work; your place of business, was where you labored for most of your life in order to be paid money by an employer to whom you were dependent, who required you to do something essentially disconnected from your actual activities of daily living in order to be able to pay others to provide you with whatever was considered necessary to live your lives and support your families.
Your jobs often enabled you to create an identity that often determined how you thought, what you felt, and who you thought you were.
Is it any wonder that this disconnection between a job that consumed not only almost all of your energy and time, and the actual work of your life, but also your very image of who you thought you were could create the angst of the great existential void that has plagued Modern Man?
What do you really want? What is essential and non-negotiable? Do you possess the knowledge and can you find or make the materials and supplies to create it out of nothing in the middle of nowhere? Is it sustainable? How would you replenish it if necessary?
After food and clean water to drink, what comes next?
Do you prefer a shelter that is substantial, spacious and sturdy enough to withstand the harshest weather conditions in your newfound home, or is the portability concomitant with a nomadic life better suited to your needs?
Somewhere within that definition, the issue of safety would have to be addressed.
In a dysphoric, dystopian and hostile world, self-defense would be essential to self-determination.
Isolation and enough insular space would preclude unexpected intrusions, but the common interests of people of like mind with whom you would mutually entrust your life and safety would provide some degree of specialization and non-redundant support.
How much personal comfort do you require? Are you capable of maintaining it if you had to provide it for yourself?
What about HVAC and refrigeration? In Florida, heating needs would be minimal, but air conditioning, once considered a luxury would seem as important as heat would be in more Northern climates.
It is exhausting to be either too hot or too cold indoors or outside for any length of time.
Either way, some amount of electricity or fuel for heating and/or air conditioning would be required for this. Would you know how to generate it? Wind and solar power can be very viable and sustainable options, for electric production, especially in Florida, but a thorough knowledge of the technology and maintenance of the equipment (as well as possession of it) would be required.
As long as excessive transmission lines are minimized, DC power and storage batteries would be useful in providing lighting for instance, and solar heating of water would minimize the requirements for alternating current, as well as the need for as much fuel to power AC generating systems.
Man may have lived for thousands of years without refrigeration, but the quality of life has been greatly enhanced since its invention.
Fuel for heating, cooking and transportation, once taken for granted, becomes essential in a world entirely of your own creation. What would you use? How would you get it or produce it, and would it be sustainable?
Aside from potable drinking water, what about washing, laundry and bathing? If you would prefer it to be available, even hot when needed at the simple turn of a faucet, could you design and maintain a safe and hygienic system?
Cisterns and wells require filtration and disinfection. All possible methods and means of preventing contamination of ground water would be essential to good health and a high quality of life.
Along with running water comes the matter of disposal of wastewater (often referred to as “grey water” regarding laundry and bathing) as well as sewage, garbage, and trash. Remember…in your own world of your creation, nothing can be taken for granted.
Composting of garbage and sewage could provide not only fertilizer, but also the the material for the production of methane gas for those with the ambition and knowledge to turn their trash into treasure.
Serious consideration would have to be given to the control of insects, vermin, rodents and predatory animals. A symbiotic relationship with cats, dogs, and even certain varieties of snakes could help establish a mutualistic environment that embraces the cycle of life, rather than death by pesticides and poisons.
Even creatures as benign as ladybugs are far more useful than pesticides for controlling aphids for instance.
There are few electronic security systems more reliable than dogs.
As incredible as it may seem, some factories have been using geese to detect intruders and provide an alert set off by the racket they create.
Somewhere within your new community, hogs, chickens and ducks can provide not only meat and eggs but they also can be fed items normally discarded by humans, and their manure can be used not only as fertilizer, but also be used to produce methane gas.
“Waste not, want not”…n’est pas?.
Although food was an assumed given at the start of this discussion, what would you eat, and how would you get it?
Hunting and fishing would most likely be necessary to provide meat for protein, but the grains and vegetables that provide starches, sugars and carbohydrates require either gathering or cultivation.
Just as the cycle of life had been disrupted almost to the point of collapse on both land and sea due to mankind’s shortsighted and greedy agendas, so must it be maintained and respected once you become as completely self-sufficient as possible in an environment already struggling to survive.
Had The New World Order not become No World Order, it was doubtful that the planet could have survived another two more decades.
If the oceans do not survive, we die; if the honeybees and earthworms do not survive, we die.
It had been as if the shoplifters were minding the store.
The greed and reckless disregard that multi-national corporations have shown for the environment or the quality of life of the general population was about the same as the mining companies had shown for the people of West Virginia a century before.
Ironically, it is not too far-fetched to say that if it were not for the Doomsday Viruses, human life as we knew it would have been doomed.
The vegetables that were being farmed by Big Agriculture had little nutritive value, and the corn used to feed cattle and hogs a few months before slaughter produced an animal so unhealthy that it would not have been able to live another year.
The fact that we were eating them speaks a great deal to the issue of the generally low level of health and high propensity for obesity and heart disease in America along with the preponderance of high-fructose corn sweeteners, for instance.
The intrusions of plastic that had bio-degraded to near microscopic size forming a giant sea of death in the middle of the Pacific, killing and mutating the fish that swam into it was threatening to choke our oceans.
Dangerous levels of microwave communications pollution, prescription medications flushed into the water supply and insecticides killing the birds, bees and worms that are essential to the sustenance of all life were all on the verge of creating a perfect storm that combined with the effects of global warming might well have eliminated the population of most of the planet.
Anyone familiar with Malthusian Theory of populations already knows that again, perhaps all too ironically, the Doomsday Virus resulting in the infrastructure collapse of America and Europe (as well as any significant portions of Asia, Africa, and India that actually relied on infrastructure) also resulted in widespread decimation of the population in a world that was approaching critical mass due to overpopulation.
The world was long past the point where birth control, even if zero population growth was achieved, would have been enough,
Eventually, human over-population would have become self-limiting, but the Doomsday Virus helped give it a kick-start.
Between the pollution of the land, sea and air as well as the strip-mining of the oceans, it would only been a matter of time before the planet would have become uninhabitable, at least for a very long time in terms of human life.
But them again, when you stop to consider that Dinosaurs ruled the earth for over one hundred and seventy million years, the puny fifty-thousand years that Man has been fucking up the planet isn’t even a sparrow-fart in a hurricane in terms of geological time.
Life and Nature are amazingly resilient compared to the fragile, pampered, and spoiled version of Man that has been devolving for the last two hundred years.
Some form of life might survive, even if it was only cockroaches, Keith Richards, and methicillin resistant staph aureus.
If it took another hundred million years to evolve into some form of sentient bipedals, it may be too optimistic to think that Homo Sapiens, (the beta version) would be any less self-destructive.
And so it was that Elliott Monroe and the other members of the Fourteenth Colony who had originally used this area on the edge of the Everglades as a hunting and fishing retreat, along with other associates and friends of common mind and interests, who possessed the necessary knowledge, talents, and skills found themselves building a new world where the privileges of birth and wealth held absolutely no value whatsoever.
The diversity of backgrounds, education and culture was surprisingly wide, but their values and principles were remarkably similar.
This was to be in no danger of becoming a hippy commune; the difference between symbiotic mutualism of independent, self-reliant, rugged individualists and communism was as dissimilar as carnivores to cannibals.
If this new home on the edge of the world was to survive, they would have to agree and co-operate enough to provide mutual support and assistance for their common interests and needs.
If they were to truly flourish however, they would also have to maintain enough independence, self-reliance and tolerance to allow for each other’s differences.

 

Once in a Blue Agave Moon chapter four: Location, location…LOCATION!

Posted in LONGREAD, Novel, Once in a Blue Agave Moon, The Apocalypso on April 2, 2016 by dreamlanddancing

During the eighteenth century, the Lowlands Scots seemed to naturally gravitate to the Ohio and Tennessee Valleys and the Smokey Mountains region of the United States .
Australia was originally a penal colony for the United Kingdom.
Similarly, Florida was the lint trap for everything that got shook loose from the rest of the landmass of the contiguous forty-eight states of the continent.
It hangs like a huge semi-flaccid uncircumcised penis, far too laid back to protrude upward very far into the Atlantic Ocean, more of a “Show/her” than “Grower” and complacent enough to just engorge itself into the warmer tropical waters, also attributing to the belief that “the lower the latitude, the stronger the sex drive.”
Everyone who comes to Florida has a cover story for why they moved here, but secretly, right before they left wherever they came from, something happened somewhere else, and it just seemed like everything was so much easier there.
They share a heritage of escapism which tends to create a mindset that remains a prevailing theme of those recently immigrated.
There is such a thing as the mentality, or state of mind of the founding culture of the location that is shared by a majority of the residents who were descendants of smugglers or wreckers; real full-time professional criminals who are trying to just lay low for awhile, vs. the full-time amateur criminals of convenience and circumstance, such as junkies and addicts, as well as every level of drug dealer, the “musicians” and “artists” who patronized them, whores, gigolos, long-and-short con men (and women), real-estate speculators, rain-makers, lightning-rod salesmen, snake-oil purveyors and of course, telemarketers, all of whom constitute a group best described as “casual criminals” and have as much regard for the “Law of Man” as an alligator.
And of course, first the Cubans, and the Haitians, seeking political asylum, the Colombians (for a whole host of varied reasons) and then the Mexicans, Guatemalans, and the Dominicans.
Almost nothing is manufactured in Florida…no factory jobs here to speak of, except the few sugar processors around Lake Okeechobee that haven’t already been phased out, and of course Motorola, boat and marine accessories and a few furniture manufacturers.
Most business in Florida jumps more or less directly from agribusiness (especially oranges and grapefruits) to the service industry/hospitality services, food service, entertainment, technical support for local businesses as well as the ubiquitous health service professionals; paramedics, nurses, doctors and patient care technicians and nursing homes, senior communities, and intensive care wards hence the moniker “Florida is God’s Waiting Room”….
Eventually, the glut of cheap relatively desperate labor for displaced ex-pats of every stripe resulted in the establishment of telemarketing centers in Florida.
It also meant that many who immigrated there were fleeing to avoid prosecution, or alimony or just a bad marriage in general. Even the cities were not as crowded or overwhelming as up north; people trying to get away from something seeking asylum or escape, where they believed the opportunities were like ripe, low-hanging fruit, like some latter-day version of The Grapes of Wrath.
No unions, fewer licensing and regulations, less and no state taxes.
So Florida, much like Australia, the Smokey Mountains, and California became a haven for outcasts, criminals, and ne’er do wells of every stripe looking for escape to a better life…”your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free. Send these the tempest-tossed to me…”
(we’ll leave the light on…).

This Thing We Do with Words, a slight return, pt. II

Posted in A Dirty Mind is A Terrible Thing To Waste, Biggest Sex Organ, Collaboration, Dangerous and Unsavory ideas that are possibly harmful to the weak-mided and overly simplistic and religious, Dirty, Enhanced and Fortified non-fiction, Enhanced and Fortified non-fiction, Explicit Sexual Language, First Amendment Rights, gratitutde, His Penis Her Vagina, Imp Of The Perverse, Jantor To The Temple Of The Holy of Holies, Liason, Mature Theme, Memoires of a Post-Neo Dharma Bum, Much Too Good For Children, NSFW, Philosophical Sexuality, Polyamory, Possibly Dangerous to Everyone, Sex, Suki, The Id, the willing suspension of disbelief, This Thing we do with Words, Vagina with tags , , , , , , , , on April 24, 2015 by dreamlanddancing

This Thing We Do with Words, a slight return, pt. II

My Muses

One of the things we do with words is to inspire. Writers do not live in a vacuum, but no matter what we do within our own lives, nothing beats a different perspective from outside of ourselves to introduce new ideas, questions and influences.

Those people are my muses, my wells of inspiration from which I drink, be it the refreshingly cold, clear water of underground springs fed by mountain streams from far away or warm, mysterious draughts from jungle pools or even hot, flavored waters, exuding enticing perfumes of unknown origins.

Some provide an occasional cautious sip, while others compel me to slake my thirst until it is sated. Some help me clear my mind while others intoxicate me in inexplicable ways like a vampire on a blood-feast, but I have been blessed to be influenced by several for whom I am most grateful.

This post was initially inspired by a discussion of pet words for the genitalia of either sex as well as the associated body parts or functions one might be inclined to use in erotic writings, to which we would aspire to attain the level of Literotica.

Jayne of DiaryIncarnate at WordPress prompted a renewal of the discussion when she recently made reference to what she referred to as a “Dickipedia”. I am a regular visitor to her website and I am quite fond of her poetry, but both her prose and verse frequently give me “paws” to think and reflect upon her eternally questioning mind.

Although we have never met in person, she has a real talent for bringing out both the rogue and the gentleman in me, and I sense that I am not alone in that assessment of her effect on men.

About a year ago, Anastasia, the charming and provocative astraltravler of WordPress and I collaborated on a piece called His Penis, Her Vagina, to address the plethora of synonyms for the two major taxons regarding the plumbing of the sexes, but we quickly realized that many terms, like Meat-Whistle, One-eyed Trouser Snake, Cooter, or Poontang (sometimes hyphenated), are at best considerably more hilarious than erotic, and at worst just plain disgusting. Some were both.

Later collaborations between Anastasia, with my wife (Yen4)Suki and myself have proven much more worthwhile and productive, although we have been a bit pensive about writing about the results…and I don’t know why, because none of us are what one would call shy.

Suki and I had collaborated on a piece that was essentially her story over six months ago, that to date remains unpublished. All I did was help her organize and word the story, as she related her experiences to me, but it is a great piece in more ways than one, especially because it needed so little embellishment or enhancement.

As erotic adventures go, I would wish that all women could experience such a milestone adventure on a milestone birthday.

Her thirtieth was almost as good, but I was there to witness, encourage and participate with her on that occasion.

That’s just the way we roll. I hope she shares it soon.

I must be the luckiest man in the world to be so inspired by these three muses.

One is mine, but she is too precious and free-spirited to hoard or keep to myself. Another is shared and comes and goes like a tropical breeze, the muse of my muse. Only the third is a woman of mystery whom I cannot distinguish from Oasis or Mirage; who comes to me on tiptoes as silent as an assassin to whisper enticing provocations into my ear like a long-lost lover from another lifetime.

Although the initial impetus of this post centered around erotica, it quickly developed a life of its own and ran off the rails onto the much larger tracks leading to the subject of creative expression and inspiration in general.

For that reason, I have decided to publish it in installments.

Namasté

नमस्ते

Chazz Vincent

04/20/2014

 

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