Community Chemistry

2011-11-28 22:58:51-0500

We spent the morning washing out the tannins. And tannins were everywhere. Buckwheat. Avocado pits. Hemlock bark. We washed it out and processed it, and placed it in little baby food jars. When we had a dozen of them, packed in an egg case, we put it in a cardboard box addressed to the Gilbert Chemical Company. That's how you'd get the bottle of tannic acid in your chemistry sets. 

Our neighbor next door does all the sulfur bottles. The crossing guard makes the gum arabic. Mr. Berlin at the candy store works nights on the copper sulfate. Mrs. Fishbein grinds out the sodium bisulfate and her husband does the sodium bisulfite. And my friend Danny's mother's cub scout den makes the litmus paper.

In our town, Chemistry is a cottage industry. Being up in the mountains, surrounded by exploitable natural resources, it's been part of the town culture for years. There's a natural gas "spring" that we tap to run the town's bunsen burners and gaslights. The library stocks old lab reports and educational films. We even have an abandoned radon spa.

Around here, politicians don't mention superfund sites, nuclear waste dumps, Bhopal, or other chemical disasters. That's no way to get elected.

Garden Report

2011-10-24 10:22:17-0400

"Land sakes!" she was heard exclaiming, as the far corner of the garden's raised bed boxes split open, sliding the topsoil on the ground, complete with tomato plants. The nails had rusted through, and although it was still morning, it would take all day for the garden to be cleaned up and put back in order. I helped a little with that. 

The roof over the shed wasn't looking too good either: the tin patch was useless, shingles were cracked, lichens were holding together large patches of it. And inside the shed, bird nests, yellow jacket nests and unspooling spools of wire fence made for a cautious entry. Under a tarp, the old boat was still in good shape, but the trailer's tires were flat. The tools on the wall were blocked off by piles of wood scraps. 

So it was no surprise when, a week later, the whole thing went up in flames when the wildfires breached the retaining walls next door. Hattie managed to wet down a kind of moat that protected the front part of the garden, but the back part was a loss. The dogs were fascinated with the fire, as they approached barking, and then retreated from the heat. Horrid smells from burst cans of garden chemicals lay in the air. Afterward, Hec raked up a pile of the remains, picking out things that seems salvageable.

Bandanas

2011-10-12 23:22:48-0400

Next to the belts were many piles of bandanas. There was a small collection of miniature log cabins by them, welcome postcards, and other souvenirs. Which should I choose? True - the mouse droppings by the cabins made them an easy item to put off the list. Many of the welcome postcards were water damaged and warped, or foxed. So: bandanas. Some were fairly plain, but others had recipes printed on them, maps, smiling cowboys and horses, crossed guns and branding irons.

I was interested in the branding irons.

When I was a kid I used one at the Lazy 8 ranch, which, as the name implies, has an infinite pasture shaped like a Klein bottle. We lost a lot of cattle, but we found a lot too. Different shapes and colors. Not always edible. Not always what you would call cattle, if you looked at them for more than a second. It was complicated and disturbing, so calling them "cattle" made things a lot easier. We would take turns branding the critters, but sometimes, we couldn't find a place to brand them. We thought maybe taking pictures of them would do, but many were kind of radioactive and didn't show up on film too well. Anyway, it was hard to leave the farm, since it was an infinite mono-surface 3d space with a negative curvature when you came at it one way and a positive one coming the other way. Sometimes, it was all you could do to keep from running into yourself, if you travelled up to the neck. 

I chased a dog up there one day and I haven't found my way back. I hope my folks don't miss me too much. I don't know how time flows out here, but in there, you can fix things like that. You get as many chances as you like. Out here, one mistake and Pfft!.

Creature Solidarity

2011-09-29 10:06:56-0400

Lizards were scampering away from the path to the doorway. They were not large, they had only a few spots, and some could climb away on the stucco walls around the door. All around, the sound of birds and insects made a distracting noise. I felt around under the ivy, and found the bell pull. The chain was rusted and covered with vines. Pulling it, petals, dead leaves and nests fell to the earth, while the tolling of the doorbell sounded deep within the house. With the bell, the animals, birds and insects raised a chorus in response. The crickets, black, hard, and shiny, started lining up in phalanxes behind me, in order of their size, while the geckos and iguanas moved in on the sides. Above in the trees, crows started murdering, squirrels formed ordered ranks and raccoons marched confidently out of the woods. In one voice, choral, with each animals sounds carefully modulated to blend in with the others to make a human voice, I heard: "We have come. Let us work together. Join us."

Egg Repair

2011-09-26 11:37:50-0400

She took the egg mold out of the steamer and, cracking it, she replaced the missing plastic gasket in the sink. "Egg white can be cast to almost any shape, is edible, and consequently, bio-degradable." Stella is one of a growing movement of homemakers who use food and other easily available materials to fix up their homes, do household chores, landscaping and auto repair. "These ceramics are made of fused eggshells, and these nails, I just made out of iron I picked out of the caldera over there after throwing in some of these rocks."

Stone chips

2011-09-25 08:39:20-0400

In the trench are little piles of white stones. It's clear that the stones were once parts of a laudatory statue set up by the previous administration. It's a pity that with every new election, icons are dragged off to be dismantled, since the changing winds of politics means that new statues need to be carved constantly.
The stone chips, being marble, can be heated and dissolved into a kind of lime, which we use for covering out walkways, gardening, and as ballast.

Religious food

2011-09-22 22:51:19-0400

Unleavened bread is cheaper immediately after Pesach. It loses its mystic powers and becomes like a simple communion wafer, which needs extra magic to transubstantiate. Without the specific prayers enabling this, you may accidentally be eating the body of Naphthali or other lesser Biblical characters. Make sure you carefully read the "Nutrition Facts," that will give you a clue as to the efficacy and digestibility of the wafer. Pay close attention to the sodium content.

In the Kitchen

2011-09-21 12:04:40-0400

Only the worst kind of vermicelli tends to clump. All problems can be avoided by about 15cc of olive oil. So, I went out in the backyard, plucked some olives, crushed them in my nutcracker, spun them in the centrifuge, precisely toasted them in the autoclave, and dripped it into the pot with an IV. But you cannot cook with the radio on, I've found, nor when the smoke alarm is alarming. And under the stove, there's rustling that I don't want to investigate.

Cuticles

2011-09-20 15:10:07-0400

Jealous of her tiny cuticles, Glinda observed, then flipped her turn signal, waited for the truck to pass, and wandered, slowly, into the left lane. Pumpkins were growing on the left , and some has piled up at the intersection to cross. A vinyl covered couch was waiting on the other side for the light to change. Impatient, it began inching across the street against the light. The pumpkins hopped up and down with glee. Meanwhile, Glinda's fingernails continued growing. The sun was on its second transit, and yet the light hadn't changed. It was a moral dilemma : should she attempt to drive around the couch, scaring the pumpkins while her nails grew to a frightening length, or wait for the light to change?

The Last Least Past Path

Ralph tossed the roast towel off and sloughed the rough toast, kissed the fast plaster post and the glass master coaster, mashed flashy, fishy four-poster toaster tasters' gaskets in the basket. "You're wasted worsted vested oysters, pestered blisters, and crested twisted threshers, crushed and pressed in slashed washed patches of blanched pits."

Quickly, Stapely whisked the sticky licorice swizzle sticks, picking lists and pesky disks amidst risky pickled dishes.

A skewered annuity and a prudent stewed suety cruet of humus ruined two blue ewes in suede shoed and shaved glued shades. Whose raisin rosin raised racist reasons? Racine.

Read by a robot:

https://www.jhhl.net/Mp3/Otherness/The%20Last%20Least%20Past%20Path.mp3

Fable (1973 again?)

Once in the land of cotton candy there was a boy named Aluminum. Now, there were not many boys at that time named Aluminum, at least not as many as are called that now. Anyway, Alu, as people began to call him, has a deep affinity for poached robin eggs. The robins he stole from liked not this unruly, and in their point of view, cannibalistic behavior. So they held a meeting to see what would be done.
 "I move we peck his eyes out!", volunteered a violent radical member of the flock. "May all who commit such acts be so punished!" Most of the members heartily applauded this direct and effective measure.
 They snuck up on Alu in the middle of the night, but the robin who proposed the action crept silently back to his nest. Before they could peck out both eyes, Alu awoke, and chased them off except for a few, which he held for questioning. After grilling them under a 60-watt bulb for almost an hour, one of the robins became a stool-pigeon. The location of the nest where the plans were made was disclosed, and also the very nest of the culprit was pointed out. Alu came over to his friend Dysprosium, and asked him to assist him. Before the day was over, there were no raw robins' eggs left in the forest.

Moral:

Fable (1973?)

Harvey was a contented lightbulb. His best friend was a pair of scissors named Mannheim and Mathilda.

They sat together on a low table in someone's house. In this harsh world it is hard to find a pair of scissors and a lightbulb being such good friends. But even so, they were, and often discussed politics, theology, entomology, and nuclear astrophysics with each other.

But, alas, the mind of the scissors is only as sharp as its blades, and the mind of the lightbulb is only as bright as its tungsten. So this relationship was doomed from the start. Harvey got dimmer daily, and Mannheim and Mathilda weren't getting any younger. On a cold February morning, Harvey died. His friends couldn't bear teh prospect of a Harveyless life, so they were locked in eternal embrace and never let go until they were incinerated.

And when they all reached Metal Heaven, all the stars were dim at Harvey's glow and all the mountains dull by Mannheim and Mathilda's comparison.

Moral: Love Conquers All.

Pressure

I took a look at myself the other day and saw that there were impressions on my skin from sitting in a wicker chair for a few hours. I found that if I were to dust these impressions with paprika, I could press a tortilla on my skin and create a kind of reproduction of the chair pattern. 

Eager to monetize this discovery, I sat in many chairs and on many impressionable objects. I sat on combs, coins, origami, miscellaneous hardware and on nuts and seeds. each produced a satisfying edible print. After documenting the imagery, these tortillas were packaged in plastic and carefully tucked into the deep freeze for eventual sale. 

I found that I was running out of skin to impress. I had to impress my friends and family in order to press their skins into service. The deep freeze was starting to fill up.

After a while, I started to get press about my impressions. I pressed on with creating them. My technique was becoming refined, choosing patches of skin and angles most suited for the particular imagery. I branched out into other colors of edible powder: chlorella, turmeric, carob, and white pepper were among the new flavors for my palette. 

When I started sitting on a series of devotional medals, business started to pick up. I found that, with care, I could get several copies out of a single impression. My skin itself was taking on the appearance of a tattoo parlor's sample poster. 

I eventually branched out into gluten free imagery. I found that in this market, I could charge up to 30% more.

How To Do It

The first thing to do is unscrew the valve and roll up the bottom to squeeze out all the air inside it. Then, it's relatively easy to stuff the thing into the hole in the wall. Make sure you've driven the picture hooks into the wall deeply enough so as to be able to hang the concealing portrait securely over that hole. Next, you must paint the wall a lighter color than the adjacent walls, and move a chair or credenza under the portrait.

 

Taking a moment to rest on the floor, you can then start work on the medallion. Remove the retaining bolts which hold it to the ceiling and save them in a teacup. Carefully wrap the plaster medallion with wool blankets as you remove it from the ceiling. A quick dusting with diatomaceous earth will keep the fleas from propagating. Reach into the cavity and locate the gas cap. Twist the cap counter clockwise two turns. You are now ready to replace the medallion by reversing the previous steps.

The rugs on the floor are next. They often conceal the fact that the floor has not been varnished in the center of the room - 19th century floor technology was expensive. Roll back the northwestern corners of the rugs (the least affected by sunlight in the Northern Hemisphere). Seek floorboards that were obvious replacements. Often these boards are loose and can be easily pried up. Remove the boards carefully and strew pebbles beneath them before replacing them.

Remember: you cannot be too careful or proceed too slowly with renovations. Be sure to map out enough time for this process!

CENSORED: A Variety Cryptic Crossword puzzle

I really like variety cryptic crosswords.

I made this up more than 10 years ago: the date says Jan 20, 1999. I made it to run in my zine GLUM HOMEBODY. Rather than put numbers in the grid area, I use a kind of hex notation: add row and column to get the coordinate!

I might not post the solution unless I hear from YOU.

CENSORED!

Thirteen of the clues have had their definitions censored!

And for good reason!

0   1   2   3   4   5   6   7   8   9   A   B   C


+---+---+---+---+---+---+---+---+---+---+---+---+---+


|                           |                       | 00


+   +   +---+---+---+   +---+   +---+   +---+   +---+


|                   |   |               |   |   |   | 10


+   +   +---+---+---+   +   +   +---+   +   +   +   +


|               |   |                       |   |   | 20


+   +   +   +---+   +   +   +   +---+   +   +   +   +


|                               |                   | 30


+   +   +   +---+   +   +   +   +   +   +   +   +   +


|   |   |   |               |   |   |   |   |   |   | 40


+---+   +---+---+---+   +---+   +   +   +   +---+   +


|                           |   |   |   |   |   |   | 50


+   +   +---+---+---+   +---+---+   +---+---+   +   +


|                       |                           | 60


+   +   +---+---+   +---+---+   +---+---+---+   +   +


|   |   |   |   |   |   |                           | 70


+   +---+   +   +   +   +---+   +---+---+---+   +---+


|   |   |   |   |   |   |               |   |   |   | 80


+   +   +   +   +   +   +   +   +---+---+   +   +   +


|                   |                               | 90


+   +   +   +   +---+   +   +   +   +---+   +   +   +


|   |   |                       |   |               | A0


+   +   +   +   +---+   +   +   +---+---+---+   +   +


|   |   |   |               |   |                   | B0


+---+   +---+   +---+   +---+   +---+---+---+   +   +


|                       |                           | C0


+---+---+---+---+---+---+---+---+---+---+---+---+---+




To save space, the spots are described with "HEX" style

numbers.

Across:

00 As she keeps old without tail.(7)

07 Train in record return.(6)

10 Heard Frost.(5)

16 Confused endless Simon in soup.(4)

21 Swimmer enthralled in Amalfi shores.(4)

25 Special:"Closeups on cruise."(6)

30 Let us in desparately with knife.(7)

38 Inside mask: unknown critter.(5)

43 I and few are jumbled with woman.(4)

50 Led astray, rebuffed snappy dressers holding horror comic.(7)

60 Newark perversion?!(6)

66 Italian eight-person footstool.(7)

77 Red spy in Masschusetts.(7)

87 Fish with $1000 returns happiness.(4)

90 Facial aspect Small knot.(5)

95 California bean soldier: "Right! Left!"(8)

A2 Covering any cop dancing.(6)

A9 Rusian River, old English reed.(4)

B3 Calliope sounded cat whines.(4)

B8 Standard reversed with old idiot.(5)

C0 Victory again thwarted.(6)

C6 Uneven in Georgia, besides Minnesota.(7)

Down:

00 Terribly legal to be headless.(5)

01 Confusing Shah diet.(8)

05 Convict holds copper backwards.(7)

07 Number three seconds to surround England.(6)

09 Negative - Affirmative, that is. (6)

0B The Queen alone is crazy.(5)

16 Hybrid College in blown-over elm.(4)

1A Be American, empty to delight.(5)

1C Psychedelics advocate busted neck, man.(7)

24 Pressure: amount of mystic energy.(3)

38 F--- This!(4)

50 Swirling snows envelope an actress.(7)

5B Explode Bohr atom.(8)

64 Cleaver hidden by naked geisha.(4)

67 Cry at Holly madly.(5-2)

72 Second hair problem: too much oil!(5)

73 Alma is nuts for sandwich meat.(6)

75 Membranes are medium type of turn with Italian thing.(6)

81 Capital Zen chant? I get it!(5)

86 Lancelot Link - Yawn?(4)

8A Cloth, Sex goddess with me in the middle.(3)

8C Close, Senator.(5)

On Being Buried 18 Sept 1978

The earth doesn't kiss like a shy new conquest,
But suffocates you with the hug of a mighty aunt.
This is the great unreckoned thing:
the overall pressing of the soil.
Each breath, if not a struggle, is a puzzle:
one wonders why one breathes at all.
The wet sand tells you that your body ends,
But it seems to extend more widely beneath the soil.

The ground molds itself to you:
a hole forms into which you fit perfectly,
which soon becomes loose, collapses, and fits again.
Often beneath the surface you grasp handfuls of earth.
The earth holds you holding the earth.
It enters your ears and your eyes,
Your fingernails, your mouth.

There is a kind of pain in your prone stagnation.

On Farmas Flot: Dorian mode folksong in an invented Scandinavian language

On farmas flot min lufa stehet
Magre bene o tyn carn insammet
Teth så gertist o mymtisk desut
Ved basseten en thermet vealant noe tilkren
Not verbi veynmer utmot textra ventral
vestrans werolm peoplen temtor fentrost
et emmtrenge trowbt theng ecte e
dust imgovervigs td ventrent verts thotu
hemeds kurtt tyr trygget venathengte
mattensk matter

Parable poem (1977?)

On the great side
There are some who, like the cat
who triumphantly scaled a tree
have not the courage to descend.

Fragment: 1979?

He writes with the glee of a man who, having hidden himself in a convenient place, watches a boy write his name with a stick in wet cement, and he, a few minutes later, repeats the action, carefully looking about for fear of the authorities. For the act is an obsession, even if it is as harmless and transitory as a daydream, and his life is a succession of many such acts, driven by impulses and stimuli which which tease and pull, explode and whisper, beckon, hide, and vanish. In the dim semi-consciousness of his half-sleep, the walls of his room are like Jello, and then glass, and then air, weather affects him inside as it does the grass and trees; falling fruit invariably makes him fatter during the harvest; brittle grass makes him rue his awakening and prods his short temper; the thumb-deep mud and cumulous sky mollifies him and gives him hope; if the sand blows about his feet, supporting him in a peculiar way, he walks seaward onto packed ground and stretches in the sun. His towel served as his chair., his bed, his table, his clothing,his comfort, his protection, his shelter, and it was unsatisfactory in all these ways.

Amongst my papers: Summer 1979

Carolyn,Shirley, Suzanne, Phyllis, Dolores, Francis, and Harriet Smith.
Dorothy, Theresa, Michelle, Annette, Beverly, Rebecca, and Marlene Jones.

These were the names that I had to remember this summer as a memory experiment. They had to be in that order and in that way.

[experiment was at either Horace Mann or the Rockefeller Institute. each woman was the mother ot the next in the list, and there were questions like is Annette the grandmother of Marlene? Is Dolores a Smith or a Jones? etc. I "cheated" not by writing, which was of course forbidden, but by making mnemonic sentences for them (since forgotten). ]