There comes a time when a person must get up and do what must be done. Traditionally, just thought has to do with going to war. I am personally not of the belief that the greatest motivator to get one up is to kill your fellow man or destroy the landscape. Sometimes I think it means giving that extra effort necessary so that something beautiful can happen. I seem to live for moments of beauty.
I made some arrangements to get more medicine from town. It seems my supply line is reasonable. There is some kind of holiday going on in Belarus. I don’t know what it is. It’s like the time I joined a solidarity bike ride but none of the riders knew what exactly which solidarity we were supposed to be a part of. I’ve never been clear about any of the current national holidays. We support ideals which are now hypocritical to how the national direction goes. We teach things which are the antithesis of what is supposed to be the national identity. We believe in outsiders instead of ourselves. I don’t understand any of this. All I know is every time they have a holiday, the drunks need to get drunk and that means people come to my gate to shout for my attention. It’s horrible.
There was a chain reaction from having Ria on my property. Either because of her or word of mouth, when I allowed Ria, immediately Olga and her daughter, who is also named Ria, probably for obvious reasons, decided to show up at my door. They called while I was sleeping. I am desperately trying to get the COVID filtered out of my system. Now there was a group of town people standing just outside my gate telling me to open up so they could be tourists. I told them no. I don’t understand why they don’t understand. I gave them their money years ago. Dealing with them left me almost completely crippled. I have no idea why they count me amongst their friends or believe I owe them anything. I literally had to disconnect my home phone simply so that Olga could stop calling me in the middle of my days to vent her frustrations. I do not exist as an attraction.
But of course there are always chain reactions. The locals are waiting for me to take on their group identity. I must be accessible. They must be able to make decisions for me. I believe this is only to have access to my money. I do not believe anyone ever wants to talk to me about anything but money. I have zero recollection of anyone coming to me to explain ideas of permaculture or why we work for the fertility of land as opposed to using it for our own egotistical purposes. Obviously a piece of land is only to be a place of physical frustration where we take out our aggressions from all of the miseries working for the pyramid people. Obviously the national way has to do with Christian self abuse. I am not standard issue. I don’t cut my beard. I don’t cut my grass. Obviously this is cause to pay more attention to me. Please tell me when the door is open to get to Adam again.
Or in this case, Olga and Ria could not understand that there is a pandemic. The local media refuses to say that there is a pandemic so the locals agree that there is no such thing. Me? I am being massacred. Every time anyone even comes close to me, it is the opportunity for my glands to swell and for half of my energy to fly away. It’s like being back in the local hospital again. There is a possibility of having your life saved in time of an emergency but you’re basically paying for that with at least half of all the energy will ever have to live with. Keep making compromises with the Russians and what do you get?
Two things in the media have me almost insane. I don’t even know why I have to watch videos anymore. I tried watching old movies but it seems the insanity was there as well. Socialist writers trying desperately to get their ideas into films where they don’t belong. Absolutely horrific writing saved only by having Cary Grant in the leading role. Watching a Cary Grant movie is not bad. It does add a layer of smoothness to one’s dealing with women. On the other hand, do the games you play with the women have to be this ridiculous? Can there be no common sense anywhere in the world just because you find it pleasant to be around a woman? Believe me, I’m not unhappy without a girlfriend right now. Believe me, please. I am not unhappy without a girlfriend.
The two media pieces were Joe Biden appearing on Howard Stern. The 175-year-old president of the United States spent one hour talking about perseverance of his miserable life as the United States senator. The horror of having his family broken by an auto accident but yet never turning his back on automobiles. More perseverance. You can just find another wife who’s just as good. And then of course your children can go to Ukraine and make tons of money and cocaine just to make sure that human misery can be well entrenched. God love the Irish. Christianity forever. Let’s reelect him simply because he’s a hell of a guy. And he doesn’t even stutter anymore. Well, I’m not sure he ever actually says anything but when he does speak, he has mastered his stutter. You can’t say anything bad about Joe bubba Biden. He’s above that now. Ask me. Certainly he’s my buddy.
Here’s my comment: I just have a question. I’m about 45 minutes into this. Do we ever do any problem solving? I love the old man nostalgia trip. But, and theoretically I voted for the man, do we ever talk about any of the serious issues? I think ecology is number one. I think getting out of the war business needs to be discussed. We have massive social problems in the United States and we still seem to lead the league in people showing up with automatic weapons to enjoy their last day on the planet. I think it’s the most violent country in the world. Is there anywhere in this little bit of media that discusses anything about the United States worth listening to? I mean, I’m sorry but I’m really not interested in the man’s personality. I just want to hear that he’s competent to do the job. Who offered him this vacation? Is there a purpose why this is in the media?
Did anyone ever stop to consider the fact that placing sanctions, economic sanctions that do not really affect the upper classes but who drives the lower classes to even further levels of insanity, do nothing but facilitate Russian economic hegemony? If Belarus does not have the economic means to connect to European or even American marketplaces, where else are they to turn? Did anyone ever consider the fact that if Belarus was separated from Russia or at least if they were offered a better deal, this would be an even greater sanction against the Russians? Exactly who are we working for, Joe? Exactly where is your bread buttered?
Meanwhile, the 152-year-old fat douchebag Donald Trump seems to be coming back despite 1,675 charges against him for malicious mischief, abuse of office, insurrection and all based on a cocaine habit that has left him impotent for at least 40 years. What exactly do we believe the office of president is supposed to be? Vlad Putin got re-elected. Did anyone actually vote? Did anyone vote without a sense of fear? Was anybody allowed to vote privately? Did anyone ask me my opinion? Even Danile, My favorite 1420 blogger who did street interviews with Russians of all classes and locations quit blogging because it was just ridiculous already. It was the same answers over and over and over and yet there was zero result. Nothing he does matters. Believe me, I know the feeling.
The next was Mike Tyson agreeing to come back and fight again. He’s fighting Jake Paul, a teenage YouTuber worth millions upon millions of dollars who has taken it upon himself to be a bad guy wrestler in the Marcus of Queensbury game. I keep thinking of Mike Tyson as a young unstoppable force. No socks. Black trunks. No smile. All of the racial hatred of perpetual gentrification and misery in the ghettos of Brooklyn brought out in an explosion of human rage. Now he’s making friends with Sean Hannity on Fox. He is smiling and talking about the entertainment business. He feels useful again. He can make money. He doesn’t mind supporting the white establishment. I only hope that he breaks the boy’s jaw. I really only hope that he comes in low, moving hard and fast, going straight in against the young punk and just changes his face for all eternity. I think I wrote a story about this one time. I doubt it but that would be okay for me.
And then josephovic shows up uninvited to give me the biggest blast of COVID I’ve had. There is nothing like alcoholic loser omicron to put to rest any hope of healing. He is blocked from calling me but of course the idea comes to his mind that he can just show up at my gate and scream at me. I tell him to fuck off but immediately my glands are on fire. All my energy is gone. He is the worst human bomb possible in this village.
I’ve had legs this year. I’ve been able to do things. Not all day legs. But I have bursts when I’m able to get out of bed long enough. I’m doing everything by hand. I’m moving buckets of water. And keeping my clothing and bedding washed and sterilized. I’m keeping myself fed by hand cooking my meals from scratch. I’m dealing with sleepless nights because my body cannot find that place to allow sleep. I’m dealing with a hemorrhage of resources just to make this garden work this year. I’m dealing with everything and doing it solo. I just don’t understand why all of these remarkable people cannot find it in their hearts to look elsewhere for relief.
Do you know that to the Russians, Belarusians are simply insects. We are a vacation destination. When you get sick of living at home because everyone around you is disgusting, you go and find girls or kill animals or just get a drunken vacation. That’s what Ukraine has always been. It’s a place for Russians to go to take what they want. They coerce the economy so that they have the advantage. This is why my neighbors exist. Sergei is a Russian. He speaks with authority and people listen to him because it’s in their DNA already that a Russian telling them what to do is a proper and good thing. All the ecological damage is here simply because he is Russian. He is of the ruling class. His shit doesn’t stink.
This was me at the beginning. I wrote this in the play I wrote about Belarus. Americans are just great and amazing things. I’m sure that’s what had me as the Beatles when I started teaching. I’m sure this is where the supermodels came from. It’s not that I am anything particular. My passport says I am of the master race. I guess I never should have become Jewish publicly. Very bad PR. That really screwed things up. The Jews are traditional places to go for money. Well, if you didn’t know this already, you do now. That’s why we exist. To give poor people money. We absolve them of their sins of stupidity. When you’re in a bad way, find a Jew. Look it up and tell me I’m wrong.
I woke up this morning thinking I wanted to write something about the ludicrousness of group identity. Simply saying I am a part of a group is all the Russians need. The Russian language is tied with titanium thread to objectification. Modern Russian does not really describe nuance. No one is supposed to have nuance. Everyone must stay depressed and down. If you are an alcoholic, remain an alcoholic. If you are any type of drug addict, never get relief from the addiction. Stay down. That was even what the police told me when I locked my gate. Yes, this is good. Lock yourself in your own head. That’s where we want you. Stopping writing has really made a difference. People have no idea what to do with me now that I am no longer a source of energy for them. God help us all if anyone ever turns off the tap.
I am not standard. I am not part of a group. I refuse family members who think they have some right to talk to me. I refuse everyone who thinks they have a right to talk to me. I don’t call anybody unless they are experts and I am in need of their particular expertise. If I am not recognized for any expertise except being Jewish or American, please don’t call me. I don’t even want to teach you anything. I really do not want to be anyone’s English teacher and I really do not want to be anybody’s vacation spot. But yet, I can’t stop them from thinking this way. I can’t stop them from thinking that I am an attraction for them. I can’t stop them from exploiting me. I can’t stop them from going to me in their minds as a potential option to get them out of their own miseries. There is no relief from drug addicts who are not allowed out of their drug addictions.
So I am watching videos. I have another street interviewer that I watch. He is Japanese and he speaks very good English and he begins all of his interviews with can you tell me about your background. He interviews foreigners who talk about what life is like in Japan. They all talk about dealing with the extreme racial prejudice and national identity. They all talk about how difficult it is to be a foreigner. Some of them speak Japanese so well, I am absolutely amazed. They have not only picked up the words but the intonation and the manner of speaking. They have figured out how to play the game. But at the same time, all of their practiced speeches are the same. They all say the same thing just like Danil told us about the Russians.
But suddenly they were in Kyoto. They were asking the locals about foreigners. Those people who make money from foreigners are very happy to have tourists. If the tourism stopped, businesses, even places that have been open for hundreds of years just go away, crushed by the weight of a perpetual economy. The alcoholism in Japan is named as an amazing thing to certain people. They don’t understand why the culture demands that everyone drink every day of the week. Even taking a day off is absurd. Kyoto is a tourist destination. Kyoto only exists for tourism. I wrote a comment.
Most of my physical life is maintaining a garden that in my mind has the idea of Kyoto at its root. All the work is done by hand. There are no chemicals and no motors. There are places where water falls and the sound adds peace and contentment. Today because I spoke to one person who knew her last week, someone from town came to be a tourist and brought their omicron with them. I was sick horribly from the visit of the last person and I was just finally feeling better when this group of tourists arrived. I don’t know how you are supposed to have a sacred place or at least a place where one is capable of meditation and the contemplation of important thoughts if people are taking pictures and walking around and buying souvenirs or just taking souvenirs. I don’t understand tourism generally. Go online and look at pictures. There is no such thing as a sacred place that has an economic need at its heart. It’s an oxymoron. They don’t exist together. If Kyoto is supposed to represent something of the soul of Japan, close the doors. Tell them to go home. Tell them to go back to Tokyo or wherever the economic center is. Just say no. If Kyoto is supposed to be a place of peace, then let it represent that without a bunch of useless people doing nothing but walking around begging to be given something sacred without working for it or participating in it and only killing it. And I told them to go away. I didn’t even greet them or talk to them but just having them in the proximity made me sick again. I hate tourism. I hate tourists. They don’t belong here. My garden is not a tourist attraction. It’s my garden and that’s all.
It got a like.
Do you think it’s easy being a Marxist ecologist? Do you think it’s easy doing what I do? Do you think it’s easy doing what I do, never getting paid for it in any way and only having even the best of moods that come along with a day well spent or a job well done crushed by neighbors who believe in machines and gasoline because this is what the Russians say is good and correct? The great style of agriculture that I am so horrible at and am ignoring with all diligence has created nothing but desertification. By demanding that the land is there to get rid of your frustrations and not something to be cultivated, exactly like our children, never seems to get through to anyone’s head. Nobody understands that the standard way builds dependency. My neighbors do not do bees or chickens anymore. They have no connection to the natural world except to retain their position and their right to keep Quasimodo smoking despite a cough that comes along with him every time he moves. They had to cut their lawn on Saturday last week. It was extremely important that they maintain their lawn.
Well, I’ve got the zucchinis in the ground. I have the root vegetables planted and all of the beans that will climb trellises have their trellises and are in the ground. I have brought out my hoses. I think I have the ability to create more of a standard watering system that will remain on and that I don’t have to work with what is basically any irrigation pump. I didn’t even know the operation was that simple. It never came into my head to study. I made a call and I got lucky. Sometime next week, everything becomes possible.
But there are still two gardens left. I’m growing mustard as a cover crop in the orchard. I don’t really care so much about collecting mustard seed although I like mustard very much. It has deep roots and disturbs other forms of weeds. It generally keeps land okay. I also have white clover which maybe would have been a better choice. Green manure and a nitrogen fixer. I have beans growing everywhere as nitrogen fixers. It works. I’ve already eaten beans I’ve grown unexpectedly.
One of my gardens is in the shape of the letter pi. My plan is for three sisters. This garden was for sweet potatoes but they never happened. Perhaps in a greenhouse. I still have not gotten a greenhouse. Three sisters is corn with climbing beans using them as sticks and pumpkins creating ground cover around the whole lot. I needed to clean out that garden today. It’s been a job I have been afraid of. It’s a lot of work. It’s a lot of work by hand.
I didn’t even want to get out of bed this morning. Yokohama is playing the Giants in and outdoor stadium and the game would start for me at noon. It was a little before 8:00 a.m. and I decided I was up and had the legs. I grabbed my bochi gata. It’s a 2 kg maddox. It is my nuclear arsenal. It is the greatest gardening tool in the world but it is massive and heavy to use. It’s big enough and heavy enough to go through anything. You can level ground, dig holes or simply destroy weeds that you don’t want growing. You can turn a garden. You just have to be willing and able to swing a 2 kg gardening instrument. I keep thinking I’m a young man. I keep thinking I’m the guy who could hit home runs. I keep forgetting who I actually am.
I worked until I got tired and then I sat down. I sat down until my strength came back. I stared at the garden and when the inspiration came, I got back up and went back to work. Somewhere along the line, my body adjusted. My heart decided it could take it. I started using this ridiculously heavy thing a little like scalpel, tearing the weeds out from along the edges of the box. I wouldn’t stop until the entire place was subdued. Tactical nukes brought into play.
I don’t know how many rounds I went. I kept thinking of Mike Tyson bashing in the face of Jake Paul. I kept thinking about the man who was number one on the planet when I was a young man showing up on Fox News smiling and saying how wonderful it is to have attention again. I hate to say that I am fueled by hate. I’m not fueled by hate. I just don’t understand why everyone must give up everything just to be a part of some national identity run by white supremacists. I just don’t understand why we need to agree to have the Nazis with us. I mean, I know why they are there. They keep the oil business going. They keep everybody stupid and addicted and afraid. They preach national security. They are the ones who keep giving weapons to the Ukrainians. They are the ones who made Zelinski agree that Ukraine is indeed truly grateful for America. Sometimes I think they are doing all of this for my benefit. They’ve been killing everything they can find about me every chance they get. Why shouldn’t I take this personally?
But then there was this one tiny event. There is a stork who lives nearby and my house is in its flight path. They are such lovely creatures. Huge birds. Majestic. Filthy, truly, they don’t have that perpetual cleanliness that say a seagull seems to have. Pigeons are rather pretty the way the sun reflects off of their ultraviolet coloring. Storks are black and white and therefore they show the mud and the dirt. They are birds of the Earth and not supermodels.
Today my friend swooped down so low he flew by me just over my left shoulder. It was like he wanted to pat me on the back. I heard the noise and the flutter behind me and I turned around and it was like passing someone on the street. He or she just swooped right next to me. I could feel the brush of wind as they went by. Hang in there bro. We got you.
And then I looked up at my grove of Birch trees and saw them smiling down. Nature is always with me here. I’ve had visitors who are confounded by the wasps and bees. I’m never stung. They visit me and I ask them to leave me alone but it seems they just keep saying thank you, thank you, thank you. The place is currently covered in yellow and violet and white wildflowers. All the things that I do not butcher are there for the pollinators. I have a habitat here where life can exist. I try to coax fertility out of death. I am fighting dessertification. I am an eco fighter. I am Mike Tyson. I will not allow white supremacy to exist.
By the time I was done, the garden was ready for planting. If I actually have an automatic hose system, everything is possible. I can bring out the buckets and let them sit in the sun and fill them with stinging nettles and other trash and let the tea brew naturally and feed this to the plants. If I keep watering, even with global warming, the mushrooms will appear which means that mycelium network will be at work. I have garden snakes. I know this because the cat caught one of them and killed it. Unfortunate perhaps but this means biodiversity as much as anything. I am not causing harm. I am the opposite of causing harm.
After that there is only the decision of whether or not I wish to plant potatoes. I’m not convinced I need them. Maybe I will and maybe I won’t. The potatoes in the root cellar are coming to life. There is certainly enough to plant two small boxes with them at the end of my field where there is normally no water. I can have a bucket nearby filled with rich organic matter to feed them with. I guess I could come down and tell them potato beetles they are not wanted. I don’t know. That would be the last of it though. That would be the end of planting season either way. Everything else is just maintenance.
I’ve been eating greens from my garden since the beginning. I now have so many greens I don’t even need to work for it anymore. I am overwhelmed that there are so many edible greens. Greens and beans. And berries. That frost didn’t help but I am already pulling little sour berries off the bushes. And if the plum trees are any indication because of their rich foliage this year, they love being mulched with wood chips, maybe there will even be fresh fruit.
The thought for the automatic watering system came because of the laundry. Fetching water is a daily task and it’s all about buckets. I can use rainwater to wash clothing. That saves some of the effort of dropping a bucket down into the well and hauling up the rope by hand. I don’t like using the crank. I just pull up the rope. I do everything by hand here. I try to keep everything nice. I cook from scratch. I maintain my garden. Everything is only my motor. Nobody wants to learn from me. The only thing they know is that they are only human and I am something different. They are incapable. This is indelibly etched on them like an internal tattoo that cannot be removed. They are incapable. They are interdependent. They are codependent. They are in need of leadership.
They are not. I am not. I am not in need of leadership. I am not in need of Fox News. I am not in need of the Russian Empire. I am only in need of actually having human beings who do their own work and take care of their land like it means something. I am not in need of a tourist vacation. I am in need of local resources functioning. I am not in need of chemical aid. I am in need of reasonable medical coverage and people that actually wish for public health. I am in no need of corruption. I am in need of some life for a change.
So now you know.
