I'm Picking Up Stakes

This blog is now around four years old. For most of that period it was a sandbox. I started it to play around on the internet. Because I had no approach, eventually I settled on using it as a notepad. This one's full now. Besides, I already have dozens of notepads.

The combined weight of four years of undirected posting makes me feel as if there are certain things I can write about and certain things I can't write about here. It's time to move on.

So. Therefore. And so but not to get too whiny, I'm going to move! I'm going to be be writing at regislacher.com from now on.

Two Women

Field with Farm Equipment in Distance

Mother and Child

Habitual Drunks of Edwardian England

A Fisherman At Home

My Uncle's Yard

Cape Cod, Summer of 1969

A Spring Idyl

Message from My Dad

First skipped message, sent today at 5:51 p.m., Mountain Time.

Kill the messenger. If you meet Buddha in the road, kill him.

If you...

Systems breakdown, systems analysis! Gimme a tax break!

Call back, call back, call back. Call 2-1-0-1-5-5.

Oh...I got work for you if you can connect. All the earthquakes there, and the weather and the asteroids, hemorrhoids, and the tsunamis, and the Arrakeens...What planet? I didn't plan it.

I'm going to use up all the recording time if I can here, if you don't call back. Oh, Gabrielle's ready to go to college, I'm ready to go to Germany. Running a bulldozer in the woods, thorugh the forest.

Oh, by the way, whenever you need something, to learn how to do it, if your bicycle needs repair, you learn how to fix it while getting it fixed, after a while you'll know how to do everything in it! Which makes you responsible - if you can do it, you have to do it! (laughs) Have to take care of the people of  Haiti and Chile and India and America, to save the whale. A whale of good time. Gone whaling. Exhale and inhale a whale. The whole whale. Chew on some blubber like comedy. I'm a poet and I don't even know it.

The word "insure" can be turned into into 1-4-5-5-4-5, I'll stand by that.  Conceptual nuclei.

My voice is...I hurt my back today so using my head stuff today. I hurt my back, drank some whiskey, took some Advil, some glucosamine sulfite, and DHEA and multiplied in my neck...must go on.

Is this live, is live? Whoever made up the word "live"...Yeah, micro-processed language. You ask the question, "Why is this word formed the way it is?" and you do numerous systems, some games. You could probably make millions of dollars and take over the world with what I've discovered. It's kinda like crop circles.

The DNA. DNA, RNA...the dragon.

I hope you call me sometime. And I am sorry, you know that.

Is Chief Seattle there?

Landscape, Georgia

My Aunt with Ostrich Egg, Tanzania

Girl in Sylt, Germany, 1880s

Small Thoughts

I am thinking small lately because of pollen. Spring has come early to Seattle, and with it the trees and flowers are blooming far earlier than they have in the past.  I have terrible allergies, and to function during the day I take an antihistamine with breakfast. Antihistamines do something to your mind: In my case, they appear to have temporarily disabled my ability to think symbolically and my ability to write strategically.  Some notes on which I've been unable to expand:

1. In any situation involving another person, you can either make decisions that connect the two of you, or you can make choices that pull the two of you apart. This ought to be a significant factor in any choice, considered with equal weight to logistics, morality, personal preference, and present mood.
2. The defining aeshetic of cell phones and most consumer electronics is one of newness and polish, but this polish ages badly. Few things look worse than a chipped, smudged cell phone. When cell phones that develop attractive patinas with age become popular, that will be a good indicator that they are no longer quite the novelty they still are. This will also be indicated if the look of a chipped, smudged cell phone becomes understood as a point of cultural reference. 
3. Constant drunkenness is, more than anything, a limitation: the drinker operates within certain constraints. And in much the same way that one cannot read a haiku without knowing it's a haiku, one cannot interact with a drunk without the constant reminder that he is a drunk.
4. Existential questions are easy targets because they are open-ended. Death is not objectively bad. It's only our understanding of death that is bad. This is trite, but it's trite in the way that true things that you haven't yet grasped the ramifications of are trite. The realization that life is limited could be a positive realization. There is a part of each person that is hard to satisfy. That part likes the question of mortality for that reason: the human relationship to death is such a big problem it's impossible not to hit.
5. The most deeply troubling accidents are those that are completely unexpected. Sometimes accidents happen naturally, as the natural result of a set of factors with which you were familiar. For example, a car crash is shocking and disastrous, but the factors which created the car crash (multiple heavy vehicles travelling at high speed in the same space) are easy to understand. It's an expected, albeit undesired, outcome.
6. Human beings have an innate need for narrative. Being a part of a family is a way of building a consistent set of characters. The only story that can be played with one actor is "Man Against Himself". That is a story with one conclusion: the failure of Man. This need for narrative is the reason for loneliness and the strategy through which families are formed and the human species propagated.

Andrew Wyeth, Public Sale

Andrew Wyeth, Dil Huey Farm

Andrew Wyeth, Otherworld

Eroded Land, Georgia

Audubon Society Members in Missouri

Penny