"Recreation", a dissection of American English

@ the moment in Austin Texas, I find the thing to do to escape the almost aquatically humid 100+ heat is to rock the rivers and natural springs in the area. The entrances to the mythical "green belt" are not quite as simple as the wardrobe, requiring a hike through more than a few layers of clothing to engage the faery-forested  wilderness environs. So like an RPG-character I engage personas in my environment, cue digitized Final Fantasy wandering music: "A) Hi, do you enjoy caffeinated oxygen? B) Where do I find the sceptre of eternity? C) Where's your preferred spot on the green belt? D) Does the dragon of the etherrealm respond to kisses?" When I select C "plink"  I often hear of the same, occasionally of the new. One gentleman told me of his favorite spot to "recreate", a word that came naturally to this late 30something lexicon, bringing me to the point.

Recreation. Re-creation. Why is such a diddy necessary? Destruction.

Actual American-English definition:

Refreshment of one's mind or body after work through activity that amuses or stimulates; play.

This word implies that the American perspective of work is phenomenally negative, in that it is so destructive to one's being that "re-creation" is necessary. Work such as this is unfortunate, and made all the more so by the negative framing applied to it by our language. It should be called "living", but that is apparently what "work" is to most in this nation. The development of exceptional skill to the point that one may rise above this requires talent, commitment, pride, and moreover, recognition and appreciation. Too few Americans are afforded this, but nonetheless, all Americans should be granted the capacity to work part-time and live full-time, but "recreation" implies just the opposite. When Americans may labor ninety hours each week at minimum-wage and still not catch the carrot, something should be noticed, and moreover must be done.

Econo-Terrorism and the Ethical Implications of "Victimless" Credit Fraud and Innovative Entrepreneurship

Good afternoon. Awakening to a text message notifying me of a relatively large charge to my bank account, I brew me a pot of medium blend, take the half-eye blue pup for a stroll, then investigate. This Gent's debit card information had been thieved and capitalized upon for the purchase of a number of iPhone accessories from an online vendor in the now faraway state of Oregon. Two years past I'd experienced credit theft as well, at that time hydroponic equipment having been bought from an Emerald-Triangle CA-based online vendor.

Credit Info Theft > Start-Up Necessity Purchase (>) Entrepreneurship  =  Econo-Terrorism
                                                                           (or prison...)

I find such funding of entrepreneurial endeavors, such as iPhone accessory sales and marijuana (medicinal perhaps?) production, through "victimless" credit fraud to be relatively innovative, outside-the-box, and also the law. Econo-Terrorism with a capitalist slant is what I see; the ultimate damage is done to the bank, yet I nonetheless am inconvenienced during the fraud reset/refund period, up to 5 business days, an ungodly amount of time to some, not so much to others, but nonetheless, weak. Predatory financial practices I do not doubt the banks understand all too intimately, the loan-laden myth of higher education and rapacious mortgages among them, so the ethical angle on behalf of the ECONO-TERRORISTS towards the banks is transparent, but I wonder, how do they feel, ideologically   morally   ethically, about the negative impact and stress brought upon the interim-victims, Americans such as myself?

Upon having achieved my phD, I will publish an article on this within a sociology journal, ostensibly cited as such:

Westerman, M.J. (2015) The Ethical Implications of  "Victimless" Econo-Terrorism, from the Camp of Capitalist Utilitarianism. Some American Journal of Sociology.  X(x): a-z.

The Arctic Agent Trophy Hunter

Braving the digital tundra through the representation zone fuzzily sheltered by a white-leopard skin, its upper jaw rests comfortably, firmly, upon my forehead, the fangs descend barely into the line of sight, canining my perspective gone bestial like, the social Darwinist survival instinct rising like Japan's flag. Ahead a nimble and perhaps nubile young quarry picks at the frost, sifting occupationally 49'er style for something that could in fact be green, perhaps more should the creature have Midas' touch in advance and tour negotiation. Suddenly and without apparent warning like the sad sum of a fast car and a nearby puddle on a misty day a flood of additional creatures that have potential churn through the search engine onto the tundra. The cross-hair becomes crowded, the sniper rifle discarded for a shotgun, widely dispersed blasts emitting like a 21 gun salute, patters and fading glances only no death, no targets felled. Additional knowledge on the nature of the beast is necessary so the true targets may be identified, the pattern of its stripes suspected to be intrinsic, as one sniped equals one felled, with having your one being all it takes to start getting down. Snow falls, the decade climbs, and the seasons will change; change we can most certainly believe in. RnR

Ahora Mehn

A Quick run-down of recent times past:
April 10s - Meeting with Dark Horse Comics: I present. Am given feedback. Accept and Learn. A meeting is aligned with the VP of Creative Development in LA. It is learned a friend has a business trip in LA during this time. Dominoes Align. I'm down with the fall.
April 20th - Negotiate w/ my Portland Landlord a discounted rate for 2 months, as I'd likely not be living in the apartment during the majority thereof.
May 13th - Vehicle packed alongside the glassware, I set off from Portland with minimal fanfare, entirely unlike a cruise ship departing the pier with folks running the planks waving bye-bye.
May 14-17th - Arcata, Humboldt CA, stay with Shin,couchsurfing.org connection, a cute intellectual gal with a proclivity for the bud. Observe the ocean with drift-wood and the rotting body of a beached whale. Eat home-style bbq meal with all the "fixin"s. Realize the town's center is comprised of a bar, and a donut/pizza shop, the donuts of which are outstanding.
May 18th- San Francisco - Hanging in the Haight with a neon-blue polo, by Express for Men as indicated by the neon-green griffin logo, I am propositioned by numerous individuals in want of psychedelics and rolls, neither of which I am at the time engaged in commerce with. Clothing mein frers does in fact say something. Burn with Nazi Nick and his entourage, hearing of his successful capitalization upon investment through the dealing of heroine, under the protection of the Aryan brotherhood, while in prison, which had landed him there in the first place I'd assume, and how given the cost of living in jail he'd gotten out with $10,000 in pocket and tattoos that enable him to keep on keepin' on atop his skin. Watch as a faded dead-head jams to the cassette tape of his favorite concert while touring with the Dead Family, listen to his explanation of how Jerry was swaying at a particular moment due to the strength of the acid wave crashing across the country at the time. Enjoy a ballet-show by an amateur tripping showboat of a beauty. International Hostel. Smoke-room. American girl. Opportunity faded. Korean Girl. Morning. Australian Friends made. Chinatown food consumed, Alaskan Sea Urchin and some truly fantastic duck. Meet with Ansel of the band, Ansel. Drink and merriment.
May 19th - San Fran to Muraga CA, stay with the delightful family of Ansel for an eve, and set off for LA.
May 20-22nd - The meeting; under review; the marvel. Roam the city with Ryan, roor in Venice, growl at the moon downtown.
May 23 - Ocean Beach San Diego hotel with Hannah, a Swedish model I'd made the acquaintance of on Venice Beach, travels with. Glorious opportunity overseen, now regretfully oversighted, but we move on, a twang of emptiness in our bellies.
May 24-25- Los Angeles. Business having ended, my mate Ryan goes back East, although like a boss, I remain.
May 26th - Banana Bungalow International Backpacker's Hostel - Hollywood. An anti-American sentiment about the individuals here, vibes I don't quite understand nor do I care to.
May 27th - Ocean Beach International Backpacker's Hostel - San Diego. An odd environment of homeliness and energy, offbeat with a sense of self-deprecation. Overseen by Doc, who staffs the "American Exhibit" of contributors and workers, as I consider him a zoo-keeper of sorts who staffs interesting Americans to present to the international travelers as illustrative of whatever genus they may descend from.
May 28th - My 27th birthday is complemented by Bernadette, a fine young Filipina woman now in London pursuing her wordsmithing craft and making of memories.
June-July - Global Network Friended - John Loup (Marseilles France) Robin (Germany) Maikel (Holland) Phil & Crew (Ireland) Theiss (Denmark) Ben (Australia) Cees & Kasper (Holland) Felipe (Austria) Tamara (Germany) Laurie (France) Francesco (Italy) Cybelle (Australia) Miko (Japan) Dan (Ireland) and many other unique and disparate individuals from across this global playground of ours, each with a story, some with a struggle, all with the reflective grin of the traveler.
June - The Portland apartment is left empty. I rent the room and am bamboozled out of the month's rent through silliness. A period of struggle, hardship, and intense awesomeness.
July - Both senses continue, additional connections made, progress accomplished in regards to impatient distaste and a sense of necessity. LA bounced to a few times in attempt at suturing together the optimal opportunity.
August - Roadtrip. Craigslist Rideshare Community. In San Diego I pick up Tommy, of Black Squirrel Films, a producer just leaving Comic Con, Scotty from Palmdale with an impressively scarred skateboard and a half-j of stress. Palmdale is a ghetto, section 8 and SNAP type diddy, literally in the middle of the desert that is truly an alarming social experiment entirely without the potential of a positive end-result. Scotty rides with us to San Francisco. Meeting his homeless friend, noticing his sleeping bag, we burn as the sun rises atop Golden Gate park and I leave with Tommy as Scotty soaks in his new home in the trees. Scott #2, a professional greensman, of the THC ilk, who along the way introduces us to an ethereal spot in the Redwoods in which the trees climb to the heavens and the clouds and atmosphere bow down and reside on our level. After a bit of hazy practice I'm able to run three steps vertical on a grandaddy Redwood before springing off and blasting into the wall of moss behind us. Scott informs me this freestyle walking has a name that I cannot recall. Portland OR Tommy and Scott are through. I pick up Syama, a yogi instructor and all-around hippie gal, a fine style of human being. To Boulder CO. My car's clutch lever breaks. Potential tragedy. A week spent in a room overlooking the mountains. High-altitude running posing no difficulty as I absorb the environment. Car fixed Kawika, a Hawaiian hombre, joins me East to New York. Dropped into the forest with camping gear and survivalist necessities, Kawika moves forth into the sunset. Later. I stand in total darkness atop a hill, lost, provide some fire, find my way, and move on to MA, arriving to an alternate flame at my boy Ryan's not-so-humble abode.
NOW - The organization and alignment of the next thrust to LA in a few weeks alongside preparation for the 2011 European Adventure and horizon-expanding event. These things are keys. These things are necessary. Complacency is a drag as time goes along with it. Now that's a fact.

Rock and Roll

MJW

The Lot, Tossed

And so it has come to November in the Northwest, the trees turn hues of amber orange and crimson but burn not with the same spark as the Northeast. However, the environment, terrain, and regular parks to break up the concrete provide for a key environment for that outdoor running; I now get the runner's high in about seven minutes and it maintains for at least forty thereafter; my distance has improved. Concrete in Portland is for the most-part friendly to the wheels of my skateboard, although the needles of pine have ruined my favorite path through Alberta Park, those thoughtless bastards. Beyond this I, as per a successful self-nomination, am now a member of the board of the Concordia Neighborhood Association, hold the chair of economic development, and will be contributing to the Concordia Newspaper as a writer; responsibility, obligation, means to ends. Converging the community, economics, and politics together into a triumvirate of awesomeness is entirely my intention and to waffle upon such matters of import would be not at all sweet like syrup. The new novel has found its name, "Ginataan and the White Balls", or at least for now, chapters falling into place but not so quickly nor orderly as dominoes. Having pitched Drug-Land Security, my script, to Mark, a lawyer at Nike and my cousin, I've re-sold myself on the concept that I'd moved beyond and now machinations are back in gear in this regard. The Glimmer Train Press literary magazine has a competition called "family matters" in which I've entered my short story From Whence We Come; inspired by a picture I'd found of my grandfather and my 5-year-old self playing catch in the Cape, the violet bouncy-ball having left his hands, arcing, frozen in mid-air, towards my open and expectant arms; 31 Dec 09 will be the judge, the final day of the Zeroes. The secret to maintaining optimal condition is to always be in pursuit of impossible perfection; complacency and contentedness being counter-productive in nature; and I am, like silly, as you should too buddy. Rock and Roll

Spiffy Space-Cadets entering the Final Fall of the Zeroes

Rocketing and rocking on with life in Portland Oregon my current writing projects burn with blaring clouds of flame and smoke blasting onto the pad. At the moment I'm working on a press-release for my boy Ansel, for his band, wait for it... Ansel. This kid is a contender I tell ya, living on the waterfront so to speak in West LA at the moment. Check them out at www.bandcamp.com/ansel . Beyond this I've just begun a new novel, "White Balls and Kina'ta'An" the tentative title, a romantic drama of sorts juxtaposing the rise and fall of a relationship with the economy of the Zeroes while expressing the reality of cross-cultural relationships in contemporary American culture, in this instance between a Native Son (American born) and 2nd generation Filipina. The short story "A Sentimental Story about Family" is done, exploring the transitive and at times surrogate-like nature of family set against a decadent back-drop of a Portland OR drug-scene, email me and I will send you a copy, as well as "Panic Switch", a sort of criminal drama, and I'm working on a religious satirical allegory titled "Adam" exploring the origins of Adam, a creature of the visionarium nestled within the seventh belt of the thirteenth planet from the darkness. On the physical front I've breached five miles and am nearing the kick-flip, it's only a matter of my front foot placement man, front foot placement mastery, and I'm golden. The weather in the Northwest is a watered down iteration of the Northeast, although I must admit the kindling leaves and fall foliage is a welcome divergence from the evergreenery of SoCal. As the trees come alight in this final year of the Zeroes savor the burn and prepare for lift-off.

the Bi-Week Networking Endeavor

I've been in this here city of Portland for a period of five weeks, however, have been chilling within the Alberta Arts District for two. This sector of the city is to Portland as the Meat-Packing district is to NYC. And so, having posted on Craigslist in the strictly plutonic section that I was interested in watching "Weeds" with someone, I met Morgan, through whom I met Jason, through whom I met Micquael. This particular lady is a social nexus, having introduced me to Dusty, a southern boy with the charm to match dressed in flannel, Baisa, Caleb, Shyanna, Chrissy and Lex, Jason dos, the Cajun bartender Brandy, Mantas, a gentleman from Lithuania not unlike my paternal Grandmother with nice art skills, and Shah, a stylish hair sylist with panache, the latter two with whom I've become boys through a few hyper-silly nights of adventure, although Mantas has since moved to Seattle. Shah has lifted me out of the virtual world into the realness of friends, and I've crashed with his hospitable self since having signed the lease on my pad, suite-mating with Drew, an aspiring painter and likewise inquisitive mind that no doubt will inspire mutual creativity. The coming end of the final year of the Zeroes is looking up,and I've no problem with getting higher. Rock and Roll
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