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Monday, September 30, 2002
And that final NM BloJo score was 49-0 (see below) ; this combined with Albuquerque boxer Danny Romero getting smasherooed the same night on ESPN gave our High Desert PR people a shiner for sure. And this next weekend, the nation can see Albuquerque's International Balloon Fiesta on 'Good Morning Amerika' and undoubtedly it will rain , snow or most likely, be too WINDY to launch the Hot Aired Wonders. Gusty Winds May Exist is my favorite seen in New Mexico road sign.

And now with her latest FreshChaos Update is the gorgeous and oh so erudite, Dragonfly:

RUDENESS: It isn't just for the French!

Let me just start with a cold, hard fact: Back in January 2000 my husband and I had a wonderful time in Paris and outlying areas. Most of the people, including our waiters(!), were quite friendly and the rest were talking on cell phones. We did briefly encounter the French version of the Deliverance crowd in Fontainbleau; they were disturbing, but not rude.

The rudest people I've met to date were in New York City and Texas: People too busy to acknowledge other people with the simplest politeness. I'm not looking for Emily Post, just some basic courtesy.

That being said, I've often found New Mexico to be one of the nicest places. In general folks will smile as one passes and merchants will take a moment to make sure one received what one wants and paid for. To every rule there is an exception or two or ... And let's face it, some people are not meant to work in customer relations.

As you may have guessed, I have run into a couple rude retail folks lately right here in Albuquerque. They stand out from all the people who don't seem to be horribly put out by doing their jobs. I do have to give the rude ones credit for perfecting their passive-aggressive techniques! I think I would prefer if they just took my money at gunpoint. Maybe then I wouldn't feel like such a turd afterward.

Wait! I should be able to handle this; I was raised to handle this! Watch out, you jerks: No more Ms. Nice Shopper!

And in related news, the hubby and I will be attending The Vagina Monologues this week at the KiMo Theater. Hubbers is scared; I'm excited!



Another random Firefly by Rabindranath Tagore


The shy shadow in the garden
loves the sun in silence,
Flowers guess the secret, and smile,
while the leaves whisper.




Posted anything to the
FRESH CHAOS MESSAGE BOARD
yet?
Here's a lively post from 'Mapadoo'...
The question usually is: Can god make a boulder so heavy even he cannot lift it? ... or... can god microwave a burrito so hot even he can't eat it?
Perhaps the question should be: Can god create a riddle so complex that even he cannot slove it?
And maybe.. just maybe that answer is: Yes. humans.
We kill that which we give life, yet we are willing to die to protect it.
We destroy what we create, despite our creativity yielding such absolute beauty.
We are born inately good and pure, but with time we dilute ourselves to the point of no longer knowing good from evil.
After all that, we are still willing to pull over to assist in changing the spare tire of a stranger. We are still willing to give a seemingly insignificant amount of money to the woman on the street who looks like she could use a hot meal. We laugh. We cry. We hate. We love. We are the paragon of animals... and just another creature fighting for survival on this planet.
Funny thing is, we will proably win. And after we kill every other creature... after we burn the rainforests and dam all the rivers... we will pass on into the history of the world and wait in death for life to begin.





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Friday, September 27, 2002
Doktor X , no intellectual slouch himself, sent me
this link showing the USA's Smartest States.
In another poll this week, our Enchanted State is deemed the poorest and now
...well, duh, we seem to be the stoopidist as well.

Speaking of the stoopidist, The New Mexico Lobos
are looking pretty stupid on a nationally televised ESPN football game at the moment. The New Mexico Lobo's season was kind of squashed when their numero uno dude was kind of squashed two weeks back. It's all downhill from here, off the Mesa in to the acequias (irrigation ditches).




And now...a Rabindranath Tagore Firefly


Let the evening forgive the mistakes of the day
and thus win peace for herself.


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Monday, September 23, 2002
As the full Harvest moon wanes,
and we follow sheepishly behind GW et al...
here is today's Firefly by Rabindranath Tagore


The weak can be terrible
because they try furiously
to appear strong.




And now a guest rant by Dragonfly...

So what is the story with NFL quarterbacks and the scruffy look? Just don't have time to both shave and come up with those ever-so-heady strategies? Too busy making bad commercials for long-distance calling plans? Do they actually think it's sexy? OK, Brad Pitt can occasionally get away with a bit of 5 o'clock shadow, but he's an exception to the rule and only because he's judicious about it.

Come on guys, you're only on national TV once a week and we can see through your face masks. Get a little self-respect. Get a razor! The Shaggy look (as in Scooby-Do's best friend and snack partner) is neither hot nor cool. Besides, you don't want people to associate you with those constant hankerings for Scooby snacks and strange sandwich combinations. They might think you're enjoying certain substances and the last thing we want is an association between the NFL and drugs!



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Sunday, September 22, 2002



Now here's Tonight's Firefly by Rabindranath Tagore


The clouded sky to-day bears the vision
of the shadow of a divine sadness
on the forehead of brooding eternity.





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Friday, September 20, 2002
Tonight, thanks to my new addiction to 'all things satellite,' I have finally seen "The Texas Chainsaw Massacre" courtesy of IFCtv.

I was never allowed to watch 'horror flicks'. Real life was strange enough to my folks, I suppose. Anyway, had I NOT seen the "Texas Stock Market Massacreee" (bad joke there about live-stock at their Texas feedlot/slaughter house) until tonight. If you are not aware of the plotline, it's about the now out-of-work killers of livestock who go berserk with chainsaws and other stuff ... Anyway, had I NOT seen it tonight, that would have been okeedoke pahdner.



Now here's tonight's Firefly by Rabindranath Tagore

Your careless gifts of a moment,
like the meteors of an autumn night,
catch fire in the depth of my being.




And hey, here's a link to an incisive narrative reportage on Prezboy Bush at the United Nations.



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Tuesday, September 17, 2002
Praise the Lord God of Chaos...
What do you do when you get an email like this one...?

Very Urgent!!!!!!! PASS THIS ON TO ANYONE YOU HAVE AN E-MAIL ADDRESS FOR.

If you receive an email titled: "It Takes Guts to Say Jesus" DO NOT OPEN IT. It will erase everything on your hard drive. This information was announced yesterday morning from IBM; AOL states that this is a very dangerous virus, much worse than "Melissa," and that there is NO Remedy for it at this time. Some very sick individual has succeeded in using the reformat function from Norton Utilities causing it to completely erase all documents on the hard drive. It has been designed to work with Netscape Navigator and Microsoft Internet Explorer. It destroys Macintosh and IBM compatible computers.

This is a new, very malicious virus and not many people! know about it. Pass this warning along to EVERYONE in your address book and please share it with all your online friends ASAP so that this threat maybe stopped. Please practice cautionary measures and tell anyone that may have access to your computer. Forward this warning to everyone that you know that might access the Internet.


AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH...flags are flying dollar bills...and Praise Hay Suse!

At some point in your life, mine only recently I guess, you go, well I only need so many dvd's and cd's and ira's and doobie dooes...this brand of car works for me and, more importantly, I care less and Lester, if it does for you or not. When the TITANIC is falling over backward into the deep blue, ice cold sea, there 's just little old me to save, no one else.

Hell, Man, this is 2002!
Today I was entranced by the lyrics of the Rolling Stone's Two Thousand Man from Her Satanic Majesty's Request....Take a moment to consider these words...

2000 MAN
(Jagger/Richards)

Well, my name is a number
A piece of plastic film
And I'm growin' funny flowers
In my little window sill

Dont you know I'm a 2000 man
And my kids, they just don't understand me at all

Well my wife still respects me
I really misused her
I am having an affair
With the random computer

Don't you know I'm a 2000 man
And my kids, they just don't understand me at all

Oh daddy, proud of your planet
Oh mummy, proud of your sun
Oh daddy, proud of your planet
Oh mummy. proud of your sun
Oh daddy, your brain's still flashin'
Like it did when you were young
Or do you come down crashin'
Seeing all the things you'd done
All was a big put on

Oh daddy, proud of your planet
Oh mummy. proud of your son
Oh daddy, proud of your planet
Oh mummy. proud of your sun

Oh daddy, proud of your planet
Oh mummy. proud of your sun
Oh daddy, proud of your planet
Oh mummy. proud of your sun

And you know who's the 2000 man
And your kids they just won't understand you at all


Time to JUMP on the YEAR of the HORSE and ride off into the deep blue, ice cold sea on our own. And then, if the USA just fucking goes to war on its own without the runways and support from the rest of the world...well sheeet , man...if we had just bombed Saddam ten days after 911 a year ago perhaps burning bodies would've smelled more sweet....but now ... can you really ask permission to go to war...can you really play with your remote control toys while the rest of the nation goes JOBLESS? A bit it is too late now, me thinks....let it go GW ...

So, I guess Mister President, as the JAirplane used to shriek...Fire all of your guns at once and explode into space...




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Monday, September 16, 2002
Yom Kippur as seen through the beautiful eyes of Div'rah Chanah:

[NOTE: Some Jews prefer to use "G-d" as a way around the decree against depicting a name for the Divine.]

Yom Kippur, 5763
Today is Yom Kippur, "Day of Atonement," the culmination of the High Holy Days which begin every (Jewish) year.

I love this day, which may sound odd, as it is a very solemn and serious day spent fasting and praying. But I see this as a day of joy and beauty. It is on this day that I am best reminded that we are all One with each other and with G-d. It is on this day that we are on par with the angels and enter the new year purified. It is also a day rife with riddles worthy of your local Zen Buddhist Temple.

In Hebrew, the word for repentance literally means "return," as in a reunion with G-d. And yet we are never far from G-d, as the soul's essence is bonded to G-d's and that bond can not be changed by human actions, good or bad. Atonement is for purifying the soul so as to reveal its oneness with Divinity, even though human sin can not sully that which is already divine.

On Yom Kippur Jews confess collectively for every sin committed willingly or not over the past year, taking responsibility for the actions of each person in the community. But even though we are all one and responsible for each other, Jews believe that offenses between humans can only be forgiven by humans. Nothing on this day supersedes earthly restitution.

I used to think of this as the ultimate guilt: It's all my fault! But then, it's all your fault, too. And we are all in unity with G-d. That pretty much wipes out shame. Excellent! And now we commit anew to each other and the realization that we are One to really great music. Awesome!

Just makes you want to get up and confess, doesn't it?

Div'rah Chanah: Jewgirl


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Saturday, September 14, 2002
This morning, with dogs barking while looking skyward, the first hot air balloon of the fall season passed silently over our house. I love the fall in our High Desert country. So cool to grab the morning paper while folks wave at you from a tiny basket under a huge balloon high above your rooftop.

Several days of rain here remind me of how it was when I lived in the Pacific Northwest. No wonder I wrote a lot back then, and consumed mass quantities of hot coffee and tea brews. Speaking of the NW, I see that the Rolling Stones will soon appear at the Tacoma Dome . The cheap seat tix are 25 bucks cheaper than those for Bruce Springhead's current tour. Wish the Stonages were passing through 'Burque again but alas and alack, that one October night when the Stoned Bridges over Babylon Tour stopped here, was a once iun a lifetime gig for us 'burqueans.

Lyle Lovett: "It's very nice to be in a
part of the world where people understand what's it's like to be in a relationship with your pickup truck."
(Albuquerque, 9/9/02)

PS. In regard to the aforementioned Meteor Shower (FreshChaos 9/13), I stumbled out with binocs in hand this a.m. and despite staring right at the Pleiades for quite some time, saw zippo meteors whiz by. So you didn't miss much . It was good to see Orion and the winter planets/constellations stellarly swimming by though.



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Friday, September 13, 2002
If you are awake at four in the a.m...look to the Pleiades for a newly discovered meteor shower. Here's a site dedicated to same.Meteor Calendar


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Thursday, September 12, 2002
Thank the Lord God of BUNNIES that we made it through the unveiled secrecy of 911 02. I find myself enmeshed with the great Bruce Springhead at the moment... here are some words...

WORLD'S APART


I hold you in my arms, that's when it starts
I seek faith in your kiss, and comfort in your heart
I taste the seed upon your lips, lay my tongue upon your scars
But when I look into your eyes, we stand worlds apart

Where the distant oceans sing, and rise to the plain
In this dry and troubled country, your beauty remains
Down from the mountain roads where the highway rolls to dark
'Neath Allah's blessed rain, we remain worlds apart

Sometimes the truth just ain't enough
Or it's too much in times like this
Let's throw the truth away, we'll find it in this kiss
In your skin upon my skin, in the beating of our hearts
May the living let us in, before the dead tear us apart

We'll let blood build a bridge, over mountains draped in stars
I'll meet you on the ridge, between these worlds apart
We've got this moment now to live, then it's all just dust and dark
Let love give what it gives
Let's let love give what it gives


thanks, Bruce...

And may we move ahead now
with all of the level headed beauty of the Shaman
from deep within as we decice to whom we will next deliver the b ig bomb.



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Tuesday, September 10, 2002
With thoughts of what many see as inescable WAR with Iraq,
that country that set all those oil wells on fire,
and with poignant memories of one year ago tomorrow morning...
this song sings to me in a plaintive and beckoning call for inner PEACE.
That day the skies were empty was truly a day of infamy.
Thanks Mister Springstein...and as Nixon would say or maybe my own mother, God Bless us all.

EMPTY SKY

I woke up this morning
I could barely breathe
Just an empty impression
In the bed there you used to be
I want a kiss from your lips
I want an eye for an eye
I woke up this morning to the empty sky

Empty sky, empty sky
I woke up this morning to an empty sky
Empty sky, empty sky
I woke up this morning to an empty sky

Blood on the streets
Blood flowin' down
I hear the blood of my blood
Cryin' from the ground

Empty sky, empty sky
I woke up this morning to an empty sky
Empty sky, empty sky
I woke up this morning to an empty sky

On the plains of Jordan
I cut my bow from the wood
Of this tree of evil

Of this tree of good
I want a kiss from your lips
I want an eye for an eye
I woke up this morning to the empty sky

Empty sky, empty sky
I woke up this morning to an empty sky
Empty sky, empty sky
I woke up this morning to an empty sky
Empty sky, empty sky
I woke up this morning to an empty sky

from Bruce's THE RISING...

Many thanks to the fifty four folks who took the time from their busy CHAOTIC daze to fill out our super poll.



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Indian eunuch mayor unseated for being male.


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Thursday, September 05, 2002
"Computers are useless. They can only give you answers."
Pablo Picasso


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So much Chaos,
So little time.

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