Some of my neighbors whipped up a nice ham, potatoes, and cornbread with veggies on the side yesterday, which I was invited to enjoy, and did considerably. I hope your 4/20 was a nice celebration - whatever you were celebrating on that date. There's a handful of different holidays that all happened yesterday, from Easter to Earth Day, so I always feast about this time of year when I am able.
Most people don't know much about the utterly criminal Opium Wars, so I'm happy you address it here. I've seen some pics of Kowloon before that was gentrified a bit (if it was. I've never been there) and it was awful tight.
Mucking manure on that Belgian farm must have been quite a culture shock for you!
I was raised on an island in Alaska, and hunted for my supper all my life, so I still have a 'hunter's eye', and spotted a herd of elk today while driving back from the County seat after getting materials for a little old lady's home repairs. I instinctively look for game innawoods, my head on a swivel.
But being on a farm is no less a culture shock for me than it was for you. There is 0 agriculture on Baranoff Island, just as I suppose there is none on Hong Kong, at least none most folks participate in. You were a child of the Hong Kong streets, and I was a hunter in the wilderness. Neither of us were farmers. Strange.
A courtesy name is better than the nicknames or such we got when I was growing up. I've been called a lot of things, but none of them were very flattering.
I've never truly had cornbread in my life that i can remember. Ham, Potatas, veggies and cornbread, assuming that at least came with a glass of water or a black coffee no sugar. That sounds just up my alley.
Add some old world radio, Detective Sam Spade (i often listen to this, these old American radio shows is what got me into Fallout New Vegas) and the like, a very wonderful way to pass the time after a good day's graft.
I wasn't raised in Kowloon per say. I would spend my Winters in England during the school seasons, but once Spring and Summer came i was in Hong Kong (as my bday lies in April, and i am often summoned back to the Grandma's side when spring came...an executive order lol). This went on for 20 years. But whether England or Hong Kong, i was never much with others...the streets eventually found me. I was a person who was a stranger in his own home (land)(s?).
Yes as a city boy having to graft using manure as a resource was very shocking to me. Let me describe it to you. I am not a stranger when it comes to poop.
In the gentrified Hong Kong, concretely around the late 60s, when high rises and flats with proper amnemnities became abundant, families and families and would flock to these newly built estates. In the 60s the concept of 15min cities was already a reality (same going for Japan, Thailand, Vietnam...any place that co-existed with/on central hub spots as a means to produce an economy). Jam packed, crowded, yet with a regular orderly flow of human traffic, the streets were mesmerizing VC.
Poo would be everywhere in my 90s Hong Kong memories. How many types of poo have i stepped on? Warm ones, cold ones, rock solid ones, spiky ones, soft ones, tender ones, premature ones, decayed ones, i stepped on em all man.
As a kid, i would secretly play with my own poo in the HK toilets. I don't give a toss. I would do a nice dump, one of them firm ones but not too moist. Then i would look at it. Okay no worms (HKer's always duked it out with gut-worms). I would put my hand into the toilet (remember, i have Anosmia, so the concept of grime, dirt, filth, is perceived and experienced very differently for me, even at this current stage in life - i just shut it off...)
...it's like playing with dried paint to me.....or clay....i poke it, i squeeze it...squeeze that shyte good...oh the good times as a youngster!!!
But having to deal with it 10 hours a day, 5 days a week on a farm, with no water, no facebook, no msn friends, no blogger, fucking KILL ME NOW!!!
I would gladly go back to that natural lifestyle. I know these skills are deeply embedded into our neuro pathways, our synapses already ready, even after long years of neglect.
Hunter's eyes eh? I have never killed game before. But i have gutted fish. When i lived in Ukraine for a month back in 2013, i ended up in Odessa. There i found a home in a hostel called the "Grand Babushka"; yes there was a big mamma Babushka there...her and her husband were the kindness Eastern Europeans i ever met. I love the Ukrainian people. I loved the grungy Kharkiv and seedy Kiev, especially in winter.
You remind me of two things in the Iching. Briefly...story time.
According to Chinese folklore there was a half man half dragon called Fu Xi who had mad lad skills. He was basically a demigod (his mom was a woman and dad a dragon, yo this some kinky shit). He observed all the 10,000 things between Heaven and Earth and codified this in 8 symbols, called Trigrams (as they only had 3 lines each symbol). These are the 8 primordial forces/elements.
One of the Elements is called Mountain, or Gen. You remind me of Gen. The mountain symbol can be paired with another of the 8 primordial symbols, or even can double up with itself (to make a massive mountain symbol lol), and this makes up the 64 symbols/hexagrams of the Iching.
You remind me of a 2nd symbol/hexagram in the Iching. Hexagram 36 "Ming Yi". It's often translated by western Iching Scholars as "Dying of the Light"/"the wounding of the bright/light".
It's original bronze age name for this symbol is "The crying lyra bird". Its's original meaning is a bird being shot dead, or a bird suffering from a terrible wound. When the diviners decided to pair this symbol with a real life experience, so whenever the symbol is invoked, that experience would arise in people's collective conscious (basically the ancient way of indexing information; a filing system using some next level mnemonics).
"You remind me of a 2nd symbol/hexagram in the Iching. Hexagram 36 "Ming Yi". It's often translated by western Iching Scholars as "Dying of the Light"/"the wounding of the bright/light"."
That's a polite way of saying I'm doomed, I guess.
I found out my friend I loaded into his brother's truck yet lives, so maybe I'm good for them I care for, at least.
Some of my neighbors whipped up a nice ham, potatoes, and cornbread with veggies on the side yesterday, which I was invited to enjoy, and did considerably. I hope your 4/20 was a nice celebration - whatever you were celebrating on that date. There's a handful of different holidays that all happened yesterday, from Easter to Earth Day, so I always feast about this time of year when I am able.
Most people don't know much about the utterly criminal Opium Wars, so I'm happy you address it here. I've seen some pics of Kowloon before that was gentrified a bit (if it was. I've never been there) and it was awful tight.
Mucking manure on that Belgian farm must have been quite a culture shock for you!
I was raised on an island in Alaska, and hunted for my supper all my life, so I still have a 'hunter's eye', and spotted a herd of elk today while driving back from the County seat after getting materials for a little old lady's home repairs. I instinctively look for game innawoods, my head on a swivel.
But being on a farm is no less a culture shock for me than it was for you. There is 0 agriculture on Baranoff Island, just as I suppose there is none on Hong Kong, at least none most folks participate in. You were a child of the Hong Kong streets, and I was a hunter in the wilderness. Neither of us were farmers. Strange.
A courtesy name is better than the nicknames or such we got when I was growing up. I've been called a lot of things, but none of them were very flattering.
Thanks!
I've never truly had cornbread in my life that i can remember. Ham, Potatas, veggies and cornbread, assuming that at least came with a glass of water or a black coffee no sugar. That sounds just up my alley.
Add some old world radio, Detective Sam Spade (i often listen to this, these old American radio shows is what got me into Fallout New Vegas) and the like, a very wonderful way to pass the time after a good day's graft.
I wasn't raised in Kowloon per say. I would spend my Winters in England during the school seasons, but once Spring and Summer came i was in Hong Kong (as my bday lies in April, and i am often summoned back to the Grandma's side when spring came...an executive order lol). This went on for 20 years. But whether England or Hong Kong, i was never much with others...the streets eventually found me. I was a person who was a stranger in his own home (land)(s?).
Yes as a city boy having to graft using manure as a resource was very shocking to me. Let me describe it to you. I am not a stranger when it comes to poop.
In the gentrified Hong Kong, concretely around the late 60s, when high rises and flats with proper amnemnities became abundant, families and families and would flock to these newly built estates. In the 60s the concept of 15min cities was already a reality (same going for Japan, Thailand, Vietnam...any place that co-existed with/on central hub spots as a means to produce an economy). Jam packed, crowded, yet with a regular orderly flow of human traffic, the streets were mesmerizing VC.
Poo would be everywhere in my 90s Hong Kong memories. How many types of poo have i stepped on? Warm ones, cold ones, rock solid ones, spiky ones, soft ones, tender ones, premature ones, decayed ones, i stepped on em all man.
As a kid, i would secretly play with my own poo in the HK toilets. I don't give a toss. I would do a nice dump, one of them firm ones but not too moist. Then i would look at it. Okay no worms (HKer's always duked it out with gut-worms). I would put my hand into the toilet (remember, i have Anosmia, so the concept of grime, dirt, filth, is perceived and experienced very differently for me, even at this current stage in life - i just shut it off...)
...it's like playing with dried paint to me.....or clay....i poke it, i squeeze it...squeeze that shyte good...oh the good times as a youngster!!!
But having to deal with it 10 hours a day, 5 days a week on a farm, with no water, no facebook, no msn friends, no blogger, fucking KILL ME NOW!!!
I would gladly go back to that natural lifestyle. I know these skills are deeply embedded into our neuro pathways, our synapses already ready, even after long years of neglect.
Hunter's eyes eh? I have never killed game before. But i have gutted fish. When i lived in Ukraine for a month back in 2013, i ended up in Odessa. There i found a home in a hostel called the "Grand Babushka"; yes there was a big mamma Babushka there...her and her husband were the kindness Eastern Europeans i ever met. I love the Ukrainian people. I loved the grungy Kharkiv and seedy Kiev, especially in winter.
You remind me of two things in the Iching. Briefly...story time.
According to Chinese folklore there was a half man half dragon called Fu Xi who had mad lad skills. He was basically a demigod (his mom was a woman and dad a dragon, yo this some kinky shit). He observed all the 10,000 things between Heaven and Earth and codified this in 8 symbols, called Trigrams (as they only had 3 lines each symbol). These are the 8 primordial forces/elements.
One of the Elements is called Mountain, or Gen. You remind me of Gen. The mountain symbol can be paired with another of the 8 primordial symbols, or even can double up with itself (to make a massive mountain symbol lol), and this makes up the 64 symbols/hexagrams of the Iching.
You remind me of a 2nd symbol/hexagram in the Iching. Hexagram 36 "Ming Yi". It's often translated by western Iching Scholars as "Dying of the Light"/"the wounding of the bright/light".
It's original bronze age name for this symbol is "The crying lyra bird". Its's original meaning is a bird being shot dead, or a bird suffering from a terrible wound. When the diviners decided to pair this symbol with a real life experience, so whenever the symbol is invoked, that experience would arise in people's collective conscious (basically the ancient way of indexing information; a filing system using some next level mnemonics).
So yeah. Chillin.
That's a polite way of saying I'm doomed, I guess.
I found out my friend I loaded into his brother's truck yet lives, so maybe I'm good for them I care for, at least.
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