Sunday Stream (14) ~ a cecilism

[mtmynd]

ahh, Dor' - no need to break her down for she's never locked... only unhinged!

[stilltrucking]

The Uncanny and the FantasticThe German word "unheimlich" is considered untranslatable; our rough English equivalent, "uncanny", is itself difficult to define. This indescribable quality is actually an integral part of our understanding of the uncanny experience, which is terrifying precisely because it can not be adequately explained. Rather than attempting a definition, most critics resort to describing the uncanny experience, usually by way of the dream-like visions of doubling and death that invariably seem to accompany it. These recurrent themes, which trigger our most primitive desires and fears, are the very hallmarks of Gothic fiction

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http://www.engl.virginia.edu/enec981/Gr ... canny.html

I know I am working in a dim light. I'll never drive an eighteen wheeler at night again. I can look up word ten times and not remember how to spell it next time. Brain damage or normal wear and tear?
Cat's see well in dim light. Maybe that is why they seem so uncanny to me. Fantastic animals, worth of mummification in some religions. And plenty of people hate them, because they fear them. Salem doing better, made him some chicken broth. I predict you and soozen want be catless very long. There is a cat out there looking for you now.

[mtmynd]

Uncanny is that which happens beyond the minds ability to understand.... a word that describes a happening that puzzles us, i.e, our mind. Could it be that the Gothic was a recognition of those things that our minds could not comprehend, but yet innately knew were happening..? The symbolism of Gothic - the cold, dark and black, the musty, dusty unused, the attics and basements - these things were representative of the mind at the time... those areas of the mind that were unknown or even wanted, not understood or even understandable. Perhaps.

Truck, we are going to give a break to ourselves from cats for awhile. Too many fond memories and not too fond for now. Giving up the turd box and the hairballs is rather nice for now.

[stilltrucking]

Hard to get rid of cats, I mean they just come into your life
Something uncanny something old an familiar with the mind.
I been trying to track down something I lost in a basement in Baltimore. That feeling in the darkness of a child's mind, I suppose it is because I have not had children that I have to reach back into my own mind for it. I read that thing on litkicks about writing something embarassing about a family member or friends to become rich and famous. There is a movie called Life Is Beautiful, they say it is about the holocaust, but more than that for me, it is about a father's love for his son. I know crazy mike loved me but I don't understand what he was trying to teach me by locking me down in that basement with the smell of dead rats, or what he wanted from my little sister.
I noticed something about my jams with wireman, all these black and white memories of Baltimore coming back.
Sorry to ramble like this but it has something to do with Zen, my pracitce as little as it was has come to nothing, starting over. again. My nephew has a head full of snakes, he just can't stand too much looking inside his head. A legacy of Crazy Mike through his daughter to his grandson. Somehow I got the crazy notion that I can help, if I can find the right words.

empty cup that resonates
the sea strikes a chord
i heard something about Buddhist practice of corpse meditation today.
oh shit just can't stop typing

I am suprised you keep a kitty litter box, Jitterbug's wife gave up on them years ago, the cat goes outside when it wants, for a while she had them going on the commode, true. She is the most witchy person with cats that i have ever known , jitterbug can teach a cat to do things you would not believe, he had one that would jump straight up in the air and balance on the top of a door, no idea how he managed that. My memories of the circus, the smell of tiger do-do, unbelievable like the essence of a ton of cat shit. mercaptans, a sulfer compound that gives cat shit its distinctive bouqet.

Glynda not her real name, she just reminds me of witch in Oz, her little shack here by the railroad tracks covered in plants and flowers, she also has a thirty pound tortoise running around.

malaise, just sugar haze, got to start again to do my walking meditation again.