Author: harold

My girl Molly, filling out an email address with the word service, in her very calm voice:

“Service oh, I love that word because it doesn’t exist anymore.”

Me, quite literally:

(she’s not wrong, obviously)

This week I jumped on a zoom call late, after getting a flat tire on my car fixed in a hurry. Only the call was the day prior.

Today I had a meeting and I waited. Over a hour later I receive four delayed texts of the person I was meeting with, cancelling. Thanks t-mobile or whatever.

It looks like everything, everyone is tired right now.

United States of America to be renamed Variantpalooza.

(I like COVIDnobyl, sounds like a car; a clown car that is)

We be cookin in here!

Next variant is rotisserie-rotating as we speak. It should have a little bit of Delt’ and Omic’ and make you smell like teen spirit.

Just in time for season 2022.

You might be entitled to tissues, staying at home and keeping it tight.

Hempcrete. Yes, it is the best -by far, period- material we can use to build houses and buildings. Yes it is cheap, renewable, clean, green.

My dad was toying with hemp bricks a decade ago. It wasn’t new then either.

So how the FUCK are we still pondering about that material? While destroying forests for wood (25 years to get a tree ready for lumber; 90 days for hemp), importing lumber from across the world at ridiculous prices???

Meanwhile mfs look forward to float in space for five fucking minutes.

We could literally build sustainable, green housing right now. Retrofit older buildings. Upgrade for real. But no, we just build the same stupidly designed stuff, slap a big ass A/C unit on top (least effective way to live) and call it a day.

We just never aim for better. We settle for “less bad”, while we have less and less time for this “let’s waste time” shit.

It drives me crazy. Inertia and latency. I hate them.

This is a local’s car that is usually looking pristine and always perfectly parked just like on this picture. Only this time it’s a little bit more folded than usual.

Broken axle, flat tire, gas tank destroyed. RWD. This car can’t move on its own.

Behind me and onto the right side of the car are tennis courts; no one can come from there to hit this car. Plus, it would have been sticking out on the lane with the impact thus, removed.

If somehow a car had been going through the sidewalk and hit this car there, the grass would show some severe marks of fight and again, the car would not be perfectly parked. So how? How is this car in this state on that side yet, perfectly parked?

Drugs + paranoia? An artist with a hammer? All of the previous?

Many things don’t make sense at all anymore so I’m not surprised surprised. But still. When physics don’t compute, I kind of notice.

Very sad to hear about the passing of bell hooks.

I had just started reading her stuff, which I enjoyed very much. Her non-negotiable stance on blackness, love and community is like wildfire. So contagious. Her writing is so relevant today.

Wishing all of bell hooks daughters, in the flesh or in spirit, the most delightful and enjoyable future.

1. Insist on the right of humanity and nature to co-exist in a healthy, supportive, diverse and sustainable condition.
2. Recognize interdependence.
3. Respect relationships between spirit and matter.
4. Accept responsibility for the consequences of design decisions upon human well-being, the viability of natural systems and their right to co-exist.
5. Create safe objects of long-term value.
6. Eliminate the concept of waste.
7. Rely on natural energy flows.
8. Understand the limitations of design.
9. Seek constant improvement by the sharing of knowledge.

Those principles were stated in 1992 and they are absolutely relevant and needed right now? Bet.

(reading The Upcycle from William McDonough)

So,

800,000 deaths, two concurrent variants fluttering around, and you are all travelling all over the country as if that two year old pandemic had been a dream?

Just checking. I wish I could hibernate for real.

Hospitals staff, I’m so sorry in advance.

Constant rain for longer than one hour is so rare here.

Time to handwrite holiday cards. Which reminds me of this recent article that says about handwriting,

“Writing forces you to slow down. It’s impossible to do anything else but focus on what you’re putting down at that moment, something that otherwise feels increasingly rare.”

Verdad. As our constant computers constantly spin, constantly getting closer and closer to pure slot machines, being in the moment and focused is a skill that needs practice.

As the hoodie-wearing gentleman in Star Wars, my man Palp, would say: dew it

I couldn’t put in down. Fantastic, adult writing in comic book form? All day. Every day.

I had read her book Fun Home, another biographical comic book. But this one is more revealing about oneself. There’s more material to dig for personal use.

Existential dread! Yeah. I imagine that we all go through it.

I can see my memoir being in a form of a comic book. I’d say it would sell like a mf.