Looks cold as hell, foriegn, like a martian landscape. Just a slice of a moment. Death / Rebirth.
Sure beats the ubiquitous, dispersion of man-made toxin.
mutha nature
(Mt. St.Helens - click)
volcanic unrest link
more eruption
March 30, 2005
Steamin
Posted by Ocean at 06:33 PM | Permalink | | Comments (0)
March 28, 2005
Combustion
St Augustine / Daytona Bike Week
OK, that didn't work out well - piccasa's collage cropped it to bits. You can view pics here: Mini Gallery
~~~~~
...says the tourist site...
"Fort Matanzas is 14 miles south of St. Augustine on State Road A1A.
Built of coquina by the Spanish from 1740-42 to protect the southern approach to St. Augustine, Fort Matanzas was proclaimed a national monument in 1924, along with its sister structure, the Castillo de San Marcos in St. Augustine.
Nine years later, both were turned over to the National Park Service. In 1565, almost 200 years before construction began on the fort, another story was played out at the Matanzas Inlet -- the massacre of the French Huguenots.
A large French force under Jean Ribault had left their settlement of Fort Caroline in Spanish-claimed territory near present-day Jacksonville to attack the Spanish at their new settlement of St. Augustine.
A storm shipwrecked the French fleet farther south. When the Spanish discovered the French on the beach, they ordered them to surrender, give up their Protestant faith, and accept Catholicism. Being without weapons or food, they did surrender, but renounce their faith they refused to do. So the Spanish massacred nearly 250 Frenchmen as heretics near the inlet, which was then appropriately named "Matanzas", the Spanish word for massacre. This confrontation began 235 years of Spanish control in Florida. There is no admission charge to the fort, but because it is built on a barrier island, the only access is by boat.
There is a free, five-minute boat trip out to the fort. The National Park Service ferry transports visitors every hour on the half-hour, beginning at 9:30 a.m. and running to 4:30 p.m. daily, except Christmas. "
Closed Christmas. No blood on Christmas Sunday. There's always Monday for Matanzas. Religeous Zealot Combustion.
~~~Bikes. Combustion. V-Twin Vibration --->
Hormones. Combustion. --->
History. Combustion. --->
God. Combustion.
("Please allow me to introduce myself, ...Won'tchu guess my name.")(...btw, this is not the anwer, but may be part of the question --->
Evil Incarnate
wonder if its made ebay yet. ...rolling eyes )
~~~~~
Who IS this Saint anyway ? ? ? ...scratching head.
His statue is in St. Augustine's historic section. He is standing with his hand on a small Indian boy's head. Something cool about him, but oddly removed - I don't remember who he is.
"As the leading actor hurried by in the costume of a monk. There was no actor anywhere better than the Jack of Hearts." (???) - Dylan
Ah, found him. A man on a mission. Fits into the story rather nicely! ---- Friar Combustion
Posted by Ocean at 06:19 PM | Permalink | | Comments (0)
February 25, 2005
fightend
fightend
Inspiration from jase's thread. I was reflecting on my own "martial art" which is not a martial art at all, but is how I instinctively "fight". Basically I fight by not fighting, yet I win.
In most cases, I can protect myself and friends, by going into this weird zone, where I talk myself out of the confrontation, while making the other guy look like an idiot who just lost the fight. (Its a "Now" thing). But, sometimes thats just not an option.
There were 8 of us hanging out one nght, while a HS dance was going on across a busy street. A gang of 10 were hanging out on the other side. These were the "tough" kids, and they started yelling insults, which we returned, only to be greeted with rocks being thrown at us. So we throw them back, and of course, it was all escalation, so they came charging. All my friends but one, ran for cover leaving the two of us, which seemed for a strange reason to be a good position to be in. Adopting a non-aggressive stance, I basically stood waiting as if I couldn't care less. All the big bad guys instinctively passed me going after the running prey. Only one guy, same size as me, picked me as his target. He charged me at full speed as I patiently waited in a seemingly passive stance. I let him run his neck into the inside of my elbow and into a headlock, and somehow changed his forward momentum staight down, while spinning him just slightly. (..dont know how I did that - as in I had nothing planned - it was just reaction). Anyway, he pleaded mercy, so I said I was gonna release him and that he was going to walk away, and that was that, not a punch. Then I went down the street trying to find and help my friends.
I was seeing this girl, soon to be divorced and separated from her husband. We were at a happy hour, and he had been tracking me. She went to the bathroom. Suddenly, I knew something was about to happen. I turned around, and his face was 6 inches from mine and he wasn't looking to happy. I impercptively moved one foot back and one forward for balance, but left my arms down, almost behind me, very passive. He had two huge goons behind him, and the whole scene was probably already geting the bouncers attention. So, ok, ...time to act. I launched my attack - I stared into his eyes and got calm. "Ya like fucking my wife?". Staring more intensly, "She's not your wife". He asked again, looking for a different reply, got the same. Hands still at my sides, I knew it was coming, but my stare mixed with my open posture had him befuddled. He didnt know whether to punch or push at this point, and wound up trying both at once, which was kinda useless, and the bouncers swamped him. I took a sip of my beer which I never put down, although I never would have used it against him, after all, technically I was fucking his wife. I just didnt want to waste the beer.
When I can't avoid a fight, I don't think there is anyone I can't tackle before they realize I got them, then wrap'em up, get off and repeat as necessary.
So I really have never had a fight. (well except for one, but that was with a good friend and we just beat the crap out of each other).
Posted by Ocean at 10:34 AM | Permalink | | Comments (0)
February 24, 2005
8-ball
I got to observe some good "nine" behavior and get a taste of my way overshadowed 8 wing*** last night. I went out with a friend to shoot some pool. We put our names on the board and waited our turn, got a beer. This girl I know, an aquaintance really, needed a partner becuase they had switched from playing single to partners. So she asked me to play. I said OK, and I had next game also, and wanted to go back to playing singles if we won. Some guy was hanging around her and I started getting bad vibes from him. We win the game, I shot like shit, and put in my quarters to play her one on one. This guy starts bitching that I'm playing two games in a row. So he has a point, but I calmly explain to him why I was gonna play anyway. We play, and I lose in about two minutes, so I put my name back up on the board. All is well.
After a few minutes, I notice someone erased the list, and now I've lost my place, and have to wait for a lot more games to be played out. Now I get angry. So I say to myself I'm gonna confront this idiot guy (he erased the queue). Then I start to fear the confrontation shit. So instead of confronting him directly, I go to the girl, within easy earshot of this guy, and say "Which asshole erased my fucking name off the list? I'm gonna go erase the list again and put my name first". I said it in a very convincing way and gave him a dirty look. After a few minutes, he splits. Now I'm angry with myself for not being direct. It would have probably ended in a bar fight, which I'm sure you could guess I'm not too fond of. And now there is a group of 5 young obnoxious, drunk guys swarming the pool table. My friend plays, I partner up with him, we win, he gives me the table. A couple of wisecracks from the new guys, complaining Im not playing with a partner, I am still angry, but calmly explain its my game, I'll do what I want. Now, I'm not really a good pool player. But suddenly, I make that jump into the Now, and use the anger as a very focused energy. I'm making unbelievably hard shots, and on a combo to bank shot, I call the pocket, and then tell everyone "And its going in!". It was a next to impossible shot, and I "knew" it was going in. Almost every shot had extra snap on it, unless it needed finesse, but everything was dead on. It was un-natural. I was focusing anger into through the pool stick to the shooting the cue ball. And old man took a turn, and my play changed dramatically, my play mellowed, but stayed focused. Then one of the rude guys played again and I missed the first two shots. I remembered the anger, and then only needed one more shot to win. I finally lost to a girl by sinking the cue ball along with the 8. Everyone had given up playing against me. My friend, who knows how I play had his jaw hanging open the whole time. Damn it was fun! I'll never play that well again. The whole time, I was mediating every pool related problem that came up. There was a lot of friction between various people.
Then the night got really interesting. Here is where you're gonna think Im wacked (pun intended). While I had been playing pool, my energy controlled the whole area. I was calm and controlled and fun, but I could feel the control. I'm not used to that. It certainly didn't seem warranted to me, but it was obvious in a subtle way, and it was pleasantly amusing. This girl at the bar had been looking at me from across the room. She was with her boyfriend/husband and was looking at me too much. Her eyes seemed to be asking for help. This couple was sitting about 5 feet from where my beer was sitting on the bar next to my friend. I went over there and was bs'ing about the pool stuff with my friend. She keeps looking at me. Her guy was a mobster. Seriously. Now she's looking at me, and she's looking pretty good, so I'm looking back. But, I'm not exactly going to try and pick her up. Her guy is like a robot, not talking, no facial expressions, nothing, then he does this subtle head and hand gesture, and suddenly this 6'4" 300pound guy in a suit appears out of nowhere and stands just on the otherside of the "L" in the bar, and proceeds to calmly watch me. I'm like, fuck, this IS the Sopranos. After about 20 minutes, I say fuck it and go up to the big guy. I start talking about fishing, but Im searching his face for more than words. He converses back, but he looks both amused and like he is a little embarrassed that he blew his cover. He gets done talking to me fairly quickly, shakes my hand, and gives me a reassurring nod, like "hey no problem". I took it as my cue to go back to my own business, and when I turn around, the couple is gone. The whole time, I felt very calm and in control, amused actually. No, I wasn't really drunk. The whole thing was very dream-like, but it actually happened. Very strange. Feel free to comment, I'm still trying to make some sense out of the whole thing.
***another enneagram reference
Posted by Ocean at 01:30 AM | Permalink | | Comments (0)