I Got A New Lens

I usually only post pictures on my other site. That is what it is there for. So I can pretend like I’m a photographer.

This address is to pretend like I can write.

We give ourselves whatever we need to exist in this world.

Here’s a picture.

See, I got a new lens. And while I was walking around looking for shit to take pictures of, I had Bubbles. She reminds me of my daughter and when she was young watching the Powerpuff Girls.

My blonde daughter with big blue eyes is all grown and I have to look at the world slightly different as she navigates her way through this world. I do not know where or why I came across this little action figure, but I have it.

I read everybody who wants to be a photographer should have a 35mm lens. And me wanting to act like a photographer, much like my daughter once wanted to act like Bubbles, purchased a 35mm lens last week.

I will say that it takes very clear, detailed pictures. I enjoy it. And great bokeh.

I have an 85mm. A 40-70mm. A 70-200mm. A 50mm. But I needed to change perspective. I wanted a different angle.

And this may because my 50th birthday is approaching.

Because I’m not a photographer. I merely fuck around.

But I will tell you I firmly believe that life should be more than work and pain. We should be afforded the opportunity to fuck around. It’s good for us.

I got a new lens.

A slightly different perspective.

I guess.

I took my daughter’s senior pictures years ago. They turned out pretty good. But I wish I had this new lens.

I actually wish I had the entire setup. I had a different camera body then.

I guess I’m saying I did the best I could then. With what I had and what I knew. But time goes by and what we had when we needed it wasn’t always what was best.

I got a new lens.

And I’m trying to look at things slightly different.

I took a picture of not only Bubbles, but a flower. And the drops I forced upon it were clear.

It’s a good lens.

Afterward.

Like some dipshit will draw an apple when learning how to paint, I present a flower in May.

So cliche.

But I’m impressed with the lens.

A lens is merely a tool, but if used correctly, we see the world in a different light. It changes perspective and doesn’t just add detail.

But you need a lens which is good enough to capture the details of the perspective we are trying to see.

A lens doesn’t mean shit. It’s a matter of the person who is looking through it and what that person wants to present. And that is the lesson too many people need to learn. Because anybody can look at a flower through a lens which is designed to capture all the detail, but that is avoiding the necessities of life.

It’s easy.

Why try to capture all the details of life as if they don’t have any true value?

Social media.

My daughter is 23. She is not Blossom or a Bratz doll. She has far more depth than that. Maybe less and I’m just not focusing my lens correctly.

I guess I take this lens around with me and try to create a perspective for myself that I can get behind.

Before it’s too late.

It’s a different world. I can repaint if needed.

And I fine tune the details.

One of the great things about getting old. I can repaint. But repainting is changing what was already seen. I need to look forward.

Anybody can dwell in the past. Because that girl that Bubbles reminds me of is still around. I just need to look at her through a new lens.

I need to see the details differently.

But it’s hard I know.

The truth is, I’m only writing this because I hope my kids repaint their perspective of me soon. Let go of all the details they hold on to.

I got a new lens and I see them differently. Painted what I could. I just hope they don’t hold onto the same old perspectives.

Pictures in a box at home
Yellowing and green with mold
So I can barely see your face
Wonder how that color tastes

I got a new lens.

And I’ll be taking it around with me hoping not to see things the same as I saw them before.

Bubbles would want it that way.

The Apocalypse and the Imaginary Tumor

First, I’m starting this off with a picture. I took it. The book 1984 sprawled in front of the apocalyptic images which we like to call 2020. We’ve burned ourselves to the ground. It seems.

Here’s the picture.

So much smoke…

We all know the position we are in as a society. And it’s been well documented the world we live in seems more like that of a science fiction movie that you and I would have turned off without getting any popcorn.

There’s a pandemic, a psychopath leading the country who only cares about being liked, riots in the streets, hurricanes slamming the east coast, fires burning the west coast, the media is all state or corporate sponsored but it doesn’t matter because the government is corporate sponsored, and the richest person in the world is getting richer by exposing the pandemic and fears.

All while a group of people rally in Utah claiming they will no longer wear masks.

These rallies are happening everywhere, but I rather enjoy picking on the seeming inability of people in Utah to care about even a single soul rather than themselves. A white cluster of bad ideas is Utah.

But here’s what got me thinking. My drive home. Not from Utah. From work today. Through all the smoke from wildfires.

And now watching this local baseball game on television with no crowd but the stadium is full of smoke. Second game of a doubleheader. All those cardboard cutouts behind the plate.

People aren’t going out. They are staying in or coughing or complaining about smothering smoke. Most people in my area will wear masks when shopping, but there are certainly many backward thinking people.

They don’t wear their masks because they cannot see the virus. People see the smoke. They can imagine the harm it will do to them.

The people who were at the news clip of the rally in beautiful Ogden, Utah were complaining that they can’t breathe with masks on, that the virus is a hoax, and one lady even yelled that child molesters love masks. She yelled it. I hit rewind. I checked. It was not my grandmother.

One brave supporter of mask cancelling was a woman who explained that George Floyd said he couldn’t breathe and people got mad. She used modus Ponens, I believe, to suggest she is being forced to wear a mask to her ultimate death because she “cannot breathe.” It goes like this.

Given: George Floyd said he could not breathe.
Given: George Floyd ultimately died.
Statement: Person who hates masks says the mask makes its so she cannot breathe.
Conclusion: If she is forced to wear her mask, then, like George Floyd, she will die.

Let me get out of Ogden. I said I would never go back there, here I am dedicating paragraphs to it.

But Ogden, much like many people in this country, believe in a supreme being which cannot be proven. Their god spreads like the virus being passed from one person to another when one person catches what comes out of another’s mouth. It spews out of their mouths attacking the central nervous system of another.

They say that when Donald Trump held a couple of rallies over the weekend in Utah’s neighbor Nevada, those rallies were being considered super spreaders.

Then what are missionaries and church events for? They are super spreader events. From one’s mouth to the other’s ear.

The people who believe corona is a hoax are the same people who donate 20% of their salary to the church in order to help super spread the word and achieve a higher standing in the afterlife.

I want to tell them to just wear a mask. Isn’t it better to wear a mask and be wrong than to be wrong while not wearing a mask?

Since when did the religious right of the United States of America believe only in what they can see and witness?

People, I suppose, are generally skeptical. I guess. Not really. Unless subjected to conspiracy podcasts, tik tok, and read memes all day.

The mask is like the golden rule, no? Don’t breathe on me if you don’t others to breathe onto you.

I mean, I get it. The smoke is easier to be afraid of. Anybody could look outside and inhale it and even determine it was a hazard on day one of human existence.

Here’s the thing. There are many things which hurt us we don’t see. But science has proven them. They tell us that if a person sits in the sun too long, there is an increase in the risk of cancer.

Can we trust the science? Ever?

It’s All So Entertaining

I sat out last night and watched as thousands of dollars worth of gunpowder flew across the sky. There was little choice but to watch. The neighborhood shook with explosions and the dog was shaking.

Being who I am, I did pull out the camera and set it up in the backyard as the sky went dark trying to capture something that may be worth putting somewhere someday for who knows what purpose.

I came away with this. And this is just the one I picked for this post.

Long Exposure Shot from the Fourth

I’m never sure why I want to take the pictures I take. I guess it’s something to do. Distract from whatever in the world is bothering me. We all need distractions. I may have written that line a thousand times in my life.

That’s what Independence Day is all about, no? I mean, outside of another corporate holiday in the middle of the summer used to sell shit to people who don’t need it.

Outside of reminding everybody about nationalism and to hang flags and honor troops and on and on.

But if all years we should be taking a deep, hard look at ourselves it is 2020. We should be.

Because I came in from taking pictures last night a little too late. The sun takes so long to go down and I took too many pictures and I probably gave up all the sleep I gained over the first two days of the weekend.

Kanye West had announced he was running for president. I thought to myself, what a perfect firework to add to the circus which exists on the national stage already. Why not?

We are clearly in the business of promoting highly unqualified people to top positions in the government. Why not a rapper turned evangelist (?) raking it in with reality television money?

We are out launching thousands of dollars of gunpowder into the air to distract ourselves from all the problems we are facing as a nation. Not that we don’t do this every other year. But if there were ever a year we may want to temper our spending, here we are.

Because the stimulus money is gone.

Let’s get these three rings on stage together come September and October. Accusations. Malarkey. And whatever it is that Kanye West does. Let’s be real, this may be the first debate held solely on Twitter.

Highest rated debate in presidential history.

Just like fireworks packing all that gunpowder in a shell to create something so entertaining, we are in for that regardless of whether Kanye West really attempts to run for president or not.

So much danger packed into shells of human beings and pointed in a direction only to entertain us.

But, please, enjoy my pictures of fireworks.

Again, I don’t know why I take these. It’s just a distraction. Entertainment. We all need something.

Noise of the World

As I sat there with the headphones pressed into my ear holes and the mist of the waterfall drifting over my face, thoughts passing through my head.  These hikes to someplace have become quite regular for me.  Pack the dog up with some food and ensure my camera and phone batteries are charged.

And.

Headphones.

That’s my topic.  Or at least the springboard to my topic.

When I was a kid, we had to get those ones with the foam covers and that little wire shaped to hold them over our head.  They are, as most things, much better today.  Much more flexible.  Much better sound.  Much more prevalent.

Let’s face it.  Nobody has to lug around a Walkman.  Nobody has to create mix tapes.  Nobody has to haul around all this equipment.  Or a boombox on their shoulder.

Go to the store.  Walk around and notice how many people of various ages have headphones in.  Connected with wires or Bluetooth, all these people are walking around listening to music or books or news or podcasts or probably nothing at all.  Depends on their reason for having the headphones in.

Thoughts lead me to believe there are two reasons for headphones.

I figure that there’s a good chunk of people who are trying to let the noise in.

I’m guessing there’s a bigger percentage of people who are trying to keep the noise out.  They want to be oblivious to everything and everybody.

Is that guy in line at the grocery store really captivated by his Facebook feed?  Or is it simply his way of avoiding having to create small talk or be friendly to the cashier?  Does he think it makes him look important?

We see it everywhere.  People trying to avoid the noise of the world.  Sucking themselves into their own little shell.

I’ve known people who told me they do not actually have any music on when they wear headphones.  They do not receive any calls.  They just want to be left alone.

I’m not going to lie.  I keep my headphones in when I go the store.  If I’m already wearing them.  If I’m already out on a walk.  But I’m letting the noise in.  Nothing brings me greater piece.

But there is a part of me that realizes me doing this is also to keep the noise out.  I know this.

I hate all the noise.

Static.

White noise.

Ear hole clutter.

We live in a world where the neighbor no longer has to look through the kitchen blinds in order to find out what is going on.  Bewitched would have a whole new set of plots these days.

Your neighbor is announcing everything.  Your neighbor is blasting it on every social media and your neighbor does not care who reads or hears it.

We all have leashes electronically tied to us.  Everybody thinks they should be able to get a hold of you at anytime.  For any reason.  All the time.

I don’t need that noise.

All that static.

That constant invasion of gossip and garbage.

This isn’t progress.

I changed my phone number over a year ago.  Didn’t give it to many people.

No static at all.

I stepped back and simplified.  And I didn’t care who it offended.  I didn’t care who got upset.

I’ve been happy about it.

I finished my walk this afternoon.  Me and the dog.  Headphones in.  I’ve been finding so much new music lately.  My drug of choice.

I took pictures of the landscape around me.  I tried to change the settings for a fluid waterfall.  I guess I need I need a stabilizer.  Add it to my list.

I never heard when somebody walked behind me on the trail.

It’s okay.

I was at peace.

And I’m not sacrificing any of this peace.

No matter how upset somebody may get.

First Nice Spring Day

I always look forward to that first really nice spring day.  That first day over 70.  Clear skies.

Today was that.  After an overnight rain, I was up early and had to take the dog outside.  All the plants are blooming.

So I pulled out the camera.

It was that day.  Can’t all be deep thoughts and brain strain.

As the sun began to dry up the ground, I decided to take the dog for a walk.

I plugged the new Mark Lanegan album, Gargoyle, into my ears and we started.

The road to the river has a line of cherry blossom trees all in bloom.

We got down to the river where I let the dog off his leash.

We headed north under the bridge.

Bridges are where people like to get noticed.  Leave their opinions.  Show off their artistic talents.

I let this guy run around the trail.  Splash in the river.  Work up a thirst.

Then we headed home.  Greeted in our backyard by this guy.

Simple post today I know, but I do enjoy taking photographs on occasion.

And tomorrow promises to be challenging to all those who enjoy simple freedoms.

So I Voted

Today is a day off.

So I voted.

I think that Election Day should be a paid holiday every single time.  Especially for the General Election.  Leap Year.  It’s only fair.  Why make it so damn difficult?

I think that people should be registered to vote as soon as they turn 18.  No questions.  No reason to make people go through hoops in order to vote.

Hoops is not conducive to Democracy.

One cannot pretend to be Democratic and purge the vote.

Because voting laws are undemocratic.  Even if one is a felon, they should still get a vote.

I guess that was the point of the Crime Bill.  To leverage the vote toward the affluent and complacent.

The sun came out this morning.  I can’t remember when because the time changed on me.  Because we have strange rules on time as well.

This state does not encourage voting in person.  They don’t want to staff for it.  But I have this strange suspicion that votes by mail are not counted.  Because winners are always announced day of.  I’ve never heard anybody say, we’ll have to wait until all votes are counted to determine the winner.

Never.

Because it’s sunday, it’s a religious day for many of the people.  Especially where I live.

So I plugged those earbuds deep into my ear holes and took the dog for a walk.  He helped me vote.

I heard the songs that I wanted to hear.

Who are you to wave your finger?
You must have been outta your head.
Eye hole deep in muddy waters.
You practically raised the dead.

Rob the grave to snow the cradle.
Then burn the evidence down.
Soapbox, house of cards and glass,
So don’t go tossin’ your stones around.

You must have been high.
You must have been high.
You must have been.

Foot in mouth and head up ass.
So whatcha talkin’ ’bout?
Difficult to dance ’round this one
‘Til you pull it out, boy!

You must have been so high.
You must have been so high.

Steal, borrow, refer, save your shady inference.
Kangaroo done hung the juror with the innocent.

Now you’re weeping shades of cozened indigo
Got lemon juice up in your eye!
When you pissed all over my black kettle
You must have been high, high

I don’t even know where to start, but this is definitely the song for this election cycle.

That song moved into Rage Against the Machine.  Guerilla Radio.

Transmission third world war third round
A decade of the weapon of sound above ground
No shelter if you’re lookin’ for shade
I lick shots at the brutal charade
As the polls close like a casket
On truth devoured
A Silent play in the shadow of power
A spectacle monopolized
The camera’s eyes on choice disguised
Was it cast for the mass who burn and toil?
Or for the vultures who thirst for blood and oil?
Yes a spectacle monopolized
They hold the reins and stole your eyes
Or the fistagons
The bullets and bombs
Who stuff the banks
Who staff the party ranks
More for Gore or the son of a drug lord
None of the above fuck it cut the cord

I’ve changed the words in my head.  I’m not sure which I prefer.

More for war or the son of a slumlord.

Or

More for banks or the son of a slumlord

Both work.

That ballot up there.  It was an attempt to cut the cord.

And since I had Robbie, I decided to take him for a walk.  Turning the corner from the drop box in front of the police station toward the trail, the view was great.

So it goes.

The sun was coming out from behind the clearing clouds.  The temperatures are warm considering it is November.

And we walked.  I miss my walks.

Songs travelling from my ear buds into my brain.

I could quote Snooze Button by Snot.

More Rage Against the Machine.

System of a Down.

Greg Palast recently released a movie version of his book Best Democracy Money Can Buy.  Go to gregpalast.com to watch it for free until the election is over.

And as we got close to the river, Slip Away by Mad Season played.

Born of the water
Born of the flame
This life is a monster
Don’t you know it’s name
The house it is wooden
The house it is stone
The proud broken hearted
And close to the bone
Once you had a nightmare
And then it came to pass
Crazy sky in the morning
Green as the grass
Covering a grave

This song.  The vocals.  The solo by Mike McCready.  Solves everything.

I look at Twitter and see the vocalist for that song made a very rare tweet.

He’s not wrong.  But that hardly solves the problem.

If Clowntown exists, I don’t want to visit.  I don’t get clowns.

The cleansing continues.  So many people on the trail today.  Each and every one can’t help but smile as they see my hyper dog.

He’s crazy.

We have an initiative in my state to stop Citizen’s United.  I don’t know what that will do, but it’s always worth a shot.

Because one of these candidates have done nothing but use that decision to her advantage.

There has been no discussion of climate change.  None of the state of the US economy.  There has been nothing of substance regarding money in politics.  Minimum wage.  Fracking.  Anything worth while.

Down to the water
Drawn to the flame
This life will leave you crippled
Don’t you know the game
Once you woke up choking
But then you held it down
Dry as the sand in the desert
Black as the clouds covering the sun

I really don’t have a point today.

So I voted.

I didn’t get a sticker.

In a black and white world, the choice is easy.

But this world isn’t black and white.  There’s always room for a little blue.

And I decided I wanted to use more pictures in my posts.

Sometimes… A Little Creativity Points are Needed

You, the random reader of this, may have never played The Sims back when it was fresh and new and original.

There was an aspect of working with your sim that you needed to keep it balanced to a certain extent.  All work and only earning money made your sim miserable, but it craved the money and success so it needed to work.

That balance could come by means of painting or playing a musical instrument or cooking or something else.

There was also exercise and social interaction and education and far too many things to try to keep up with at times.

I guess I was at that point this weekend.  My creativity points come by means of writing generally.  But I’m sick of the topics of the world.  So much divisiveness.  Something needs to change.

Sometimes I cook.

Today I pulled out my camera.

I’ve taken my camera and pointed at my daughter for her senior pictures this past year.  I thought they turned out pretty good.

I pointed it at Northern California last year and made some prints.

I pointed it at various baseball games last summer and created a calendar.

My best topic right now is my dog.  So I pulled out the camera took him to the river and dog park.  They are right next to each other and is an average Monday for me.  I let him splash around and get muddy and then let him dry off while chasing a ball at the park.

He gets tired and that allows me a better night’s sleep.

I am writing this boring excrement as he sleeps on my lap.

Now I certainly don’t try to be one of those people who talk only about their dog.  But this guy is still pretty cute and also very demanding.  He takes up much of our time.

I enjoy sitting down and editing the photos.  My last prints were pretty good.  May not be what most people would want on their walls, but I think creativity points belong to the user.

Not you.

As we walked from the river to the park, there was a group of children who were on the swings and kicking footballs and running around playing tag.  The thing about a puppy is that one can stop children from doing what they are doing.  Cold.

This sopping wet dog received the attention and affection of 20 children all at once and didn’t know what to do.  One kid said, he’s crazy.

Welcome to the club, dog.

So here I am.  Creativity points attained.  I have to go five days without receiving any new ones now.  Way it works.

Remember, these aren’t for you.  They are for me.

And I get to put whatever I want here.

Every.  Single.  Time.