ivan

did ya'll get the telepherique in?

moot question - them that fuck sheeps ain't mingling much w/ others

right or wrong, that probably is a wise thing to keep track of

what DOES matter sam-wise?

but...but...i thought what happened in vegas... burro pic or it didn't happen

the spice must flow

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(psuedo)science once again telling us what we already knew

10/24 - round 7 geoff n' i gallump on up the grand highway in the fading light of friday, galled by the recent demands of this gawdamn world - a big bonfire on the side of the forest road - it was to be a 1-day trip, so there was no sense in standing on ceremony - just a simple howl-at-the-moon affair which happened soon enough upon arrival and ambled on amiably until a hint after mid-night dawn on saturday - destiny called so i shuffled off to have a shit and returned to the sight of my lawyer wretching into the bushes - The Great Spit - like a true hound-dog though he shook it off n' went back to binging on bad-berries a quick walk up the hill, though the leaf-fucked forest floor makes it more sporting in places now - a deep gray diffracting through the grim sky as i gazed up to see how the fixed lines had fared over the past month - they seemed fine enough and so we set to it a touch of rain followed to re-inforce the fuck-you nature of the big-wall, but that gave an excuse to sip beer n' listen to car-talk, a most unlikely touch of normality that couldn't help but conquer all fears - then it was the endless jugging n' hauling up extra rope n' whatnot to the highpoint near noon, geoff grown gaunt n' red-faced but i was in rare-spirits, risen so far above bullshit i can't help but care about when it chokes me at every breathe the plan was to move it on up to the big ledge, which in time i did make, ducking and dodging and working to find sections of rock good enough to take a bolt - a lot of case-cheese in this section - the rock under the hammer sounds like a hobo through a half-bottle the great ledge was rather a little disappointing - cool environment for sure - the summit so close now you could talk w/ a person there should they appear and have no instinct of self-preservation to lean out over the edge - perhaps only 2 more full rope-lengths to go? the whole area like a vast tilted hanging ampitheatre, my voice and hammer strokes singing back at me from close in - no good place to set up a camp or even really sit though, despite its grand dimensions - maybe up higher? so many possible directions to go from here - to re-establish a plum line rap-station to the top of p5 will require a separate mission to set up and will be off-course to the upper-wall - will likely want to establish a fixed line to it i suspect - left 14 bolts, a pair of chain anchors and my hammer to encourage my return had originally hoped to pull all the fixed lines and clean the scene up for the winter but the long and fast-fading light cleared that thought away swiftly - i figure the face gets no sunlight and my static lines are damned relics already, so why let them quietly die on my garage floor? besides, there's always the off-chance of a november visit before the road closes, though with short days and the long jug, it's hard to get more than a couple hrs of exploration in before prudence demands descent home w/ time for wine n' women n' fine discourse - i sink swiftly into the Big Blackness, waking near dawn to delicious soreness in every muscle associated w/ jugging or top-step tensioning nearer...nearer...dice.

yup.

very glad to hear it - i suspect it went to the ground all as one piece and lord knows a helmet wouldn't have helped much as it was as big as any cannon-ball

i was fine - i had seen a family top-roping rhythmn method though on the way in and i suspect they got a pretty close view of sir isaac newton in action

trafalgar day, 210 years later - lap 19, n' day 37 - sweet teen dreams, if only i could describe them - would that i could make this sultry stone my hms victory, yet happy am i to have it my simple hms sophie - "beacon expects that every man will do his duty" - could i do better? indian summer un-ending, these are sweet times we live in my friend - extravagant jolly-green giants w/ so-n-so in our hands, etc., etc. vexing vixens preying upon my preternatural mind, i made my way through the pierced valley, intent upon glory or disgorgement - a venerable veteran in the lot, heavy-clad betwixt wind n' water against the venomous vines n' beside himself to heave away towards obligations i can not guess what light winds, easy weather - i gambole up to grassy ledge n' hoot n' holler at kendall n' kenny beset upon big ledge - i binge on beer n' butts while taking in the rare environs of the top of smooth dancer, singing n' swinging n' sailing away towards wondrous seas of my own design must have done 300 or so solo ascents yet today by accident sent down the biggest block ever - right at the split on the 4th class ramble up the true sou'east ridge i tended starboard - just below the big block overhang a right-big boulder tumbled out under my half-seen feet n' plunged down over the indian face, leaving me horror-struck at it's sudden and uncertain flight

i think you mis-comprehend capitalism - i'm no snarling trotskyite, so don't take my view too seriously, but capitalism is essentially defined by the governmetn straight-up not giving a shit what happens in this world outside a very narrow prism of national security - the unregulated rape of the natural world w/o a word of protest from republican government is as old as the industrial revolution itself. i of course hope to see a future that transcends this, but i'd be a fool if it expected it....

uh...I'd never have thought either the government of Wyoming or of Washington D.C. would be thought of as socialist, so why is the original article a bash on them that thinks that way? the article DOES say the rather socialist concept of making businesses pay up front for clean-up costs doesn't have the proverbial snow ball's chance of ever being used in these united states. I'd of course agree this a fine demonstration of classic capitalism in action. not sure what to make of pete's contribution beyond what the abstact says: a good chunk of change stays in the local economy after you frack - don't know if the full article tries to parse out wehter that chunk of change significantly offsets the costs associated w/ fracking though - having a bit more coin in your pocket doesn't mean much if you're drinking lighter fluid as a result, no?

so graceful, like a gawdamn rawk-gazelle

10/20 - #36, 18th lap - macarthur fulfilled a famous pledge this day, and after 3 days of solid soaking, so did i - w/ temerity i plied the pilgrim path, tremulous at the prospects of a slimy ascent - topher n' his shiela alone at the base of the southeast corner - pleasant conversation n' a slow plodding paw-up for me soon after - a simple climb through a sordid, somnolent sky followed by a fast descent to fetch the boy-child n' carry him off to scouts the fall is fast fading, the big blows of ancient autumn hovering hard-upon the eastern edges of the gaunt gorge n' threatening to descend - what hoary-haired centurion could not tremble at it? the dice will be cast, and who will count the dead?

they'd had a decade, right? hard to stay on top of a democracy for so long w/o the always-angry electorate bucking you off, no? that said, john oliver n' mike myers were right, harper did come off as a stone-cold dusche

sounds like yer celebrating a bit too early, boy-o - as a people we 'mericans rarely do the right thing 'till we've mother-fucked every wrong option in the book

don't know why you'd need to go back, looks like you climbed every damn thing there was out there to climb

10/16 - #35, lap 17 - union bitterness n' beer-drowned badness at the back end of the working day - out to the royal rock as the rays grew red n' stretched - so many men in motion - i romp up in a half-reef wind, realizing the brethern will be rounded up right soon - adam n' kenneth, cocooned in comfort - steve n' nastia, creeping up soon in course - me in the middle, mindless n' mirthful - the world is wicked but i am fucking good, and so goes friday

summary of republican platform: fuck you, you fucking fucks - take it, you know you like it, jesus assures me so the party of screaming assholes.

10/14 - day 34 - lucky 16 - a sight i'd never seen, as sweet and serene a by-product of initiative 502 as could be - sultry beauties on the descent, quite surprised, as sure as they'd been of a lonely summit - We could not help but tarry and oh-sweet-jesus it was lovely despite the big, big breezes

10/14 - 33rd beatard day - my 15th lap - rommel died this day - hastings happened and harold wept w/ a worried eye - i wandered away in the afternoon after ambivalent amusements of the professional kind, curious and cruel, is it so for all i wonder? beers and bright wind - worrying i wind away alone along a crooked course - the lot loaded w/ citizens of all sort - the rock redounds w/ reprehensibles of every strip - steve n' kenny, dave n' that-dude-who's-name-escapes-me sea-lions in strong numbers stirring the waters - a sordid country tune you've no reason not to give a chance... [video:youtube]

all choss obeys the whims of the Great Magnet