where jettisoned turkey timers go to die

it’s days like these when my thoughts are turned to eddying tides of superflux out on our periphery. today I would definitely be remiss if I just went out to make snow angels without saying a word. I might find it equally peaceful adrift in the horse latitudes, and comforting to be greeted by such familiar articles as Air Jordans and coat hangers.

the desert is probably the nearest I’ve seen to being that far out at sea. dry expanses where dragons and owls burrow, ostriches nest and jackals sleep in half-buried truck tires, winged dengue breeds in the water pooled in plastic bags. consulting the wisdom of hobos & trolls who live under the bridge in their cardboard and tar paper; these materials are temporary, transient, passing. but plastics are forever, so we say it with plastics.
word has been coming back that this is the case out there in the North Pacific Subtropical Gyre; cuttlefish & prawns frolic like fawns in an enormous trash vortex, where fingerlings and phytoplankton take up residence in Tide with bleach bottles and other flotsam. these things, likewise, take up residence in them; with hungry albatrosses shuttling bottle caps, GI Joes and cigarette lighters across thousands of miles of ocean. teredo navalis shipworms can’t eat through a cathode-ray tube, but they might ride it a few knots to other waters.

surrounded as we are by incessant decay, there may be cause for moderate rejoicing in knowing that we are creating something permanent. and that with the forces of entropy working tirelessly on every molecule, still there are other forces that conspire to guide and gather all this furniture into what Captain Charles Moore has been calling a gentle maelstrom.

…into a Pirates of the Caribbean ride, an entire disneyland the size of Texas, in plastic garbage, immediately animated by tidal power. vertebrate jellyfish run discarded condoms through the filter feeders. flying fish hurtle over mile-long ghost nets drifting recklessly through a haunted forest of autotrophic algae and hockey pads. one creature’s trash is another’s casino.

there’s definitely something pathetically flattering about how they all move in to the bleach bottle bird houses that have fallen from our fingers. here at home the snow is covering everything for awhile.

where does turkey come from?

sorry, still no braille. funding constraints persist until Norbest or someone picks us up for corporate sponsorship. in the mean time you’re more than welcome to take the situation into your own hands. do I have to do everything around here? there really seems to be something about the holidays that feeds this attitude of entitlement.
I’ll tell you where they come from - here. I am surrounded by hundreds of turkey farms. the ragged white feathers of domestic turkeys blow through my yard, into my mailbox, my mouth and tomato cages. and reeking airborne molecules of turkey excrement often hang in a haze around the towns in Sanpete valley. sometimes this haze is visible. here are some turkeys in my neighborhood, in my neighborhood.

I’ve deliberately delayed posting this until after the holiday so nobody gets any ideas about political timing events or overly-punctual news releases. it’s too late and nobody wants your vote anymore. if you know anyone who ran for office, will you please tell them to come clean up their big signs now. wouldn’t it be embarrassing if Jesus came and your name was up all over the place, printed on corrugated plastic.

and this is where all the magic happens: the turkey processing plant up the road from where I live.
look around a little, it’s all here:

• the turkey/egg paradox
• tertiary sources regarding Warr with the Heathen Natives and digging a pits for neighbors
• Mexicans are to turkey processing as Koreans are to dry cleaning

this final leg of the virtual tour should raise the gooseflesh on your skin. and now is when you aught to invite any blind children forward to feel your forearm. let this tactile demonstration serve to illustrate the importance of staying in school. they’ll understand. if you and your class are not sufficiently sicked out yet, you can look into the practice of stuffing smaller birds into larger birds.

where do turkeys come from?

so your Sunday school class has been getting curious. they look to you for answers, sound direction. the following is a brief and selective report. before anyone gets their hopes up, I want you to know that due to funding constraints and virtual irrelevance, this post will not be available in braille, ever. so if there are any blind kids in your Sunday school class you’ll just have to read aloud to them and hope they trust you. but you don’t have to take my word for it. de-ne neh!

first of all, we’re talking about meleagridadae or guajolotl depending on whether you favor Latin or Latinos. but Egyptians call them Greek birds. Greeks call them French birds. both Turks and Frenchies call them birds from India. Arabs call them Roman birds. Malaysians call them Dutch chickens. Portuguese call them Peru. but let's get real, turkeys are so totally American. for more on this nonsense there’s always wikipedia.

I realize how tangled this all seems right now; good luck. fortunately you don’t have to get into birds and bees, because turkeys can reproduce asexually. yes, that’s correct. so I guess that means there are some turkey clones out there. of course you can present this positively so as to not frighten them; these are benevolent clones that are more scared of you than you are of them.

Cyrillic email

awesome! I just got my first spam email in Cyrillic.
anyone know what BЛAДA or РАссылка means?
refinance? viagra? work from home? mailorder bride?

reviewing footage

today talk of the nation threw sasquatch a bone.

30 heads

sunflower seeds, curried & roasted

Cavity-Nesting Birds of North American Forests

Lord God Bird

monogamous whistling ducks

"Spirits are also attracted to their graves and to the crematorium by the love of the body which they had thought was their only self, but which in fact was merely the instrument of experience. In fact there is not one inch of space, whether on land or on the water, free from the influence of spirits."
-Hazrat Inayat Khan

"No, dear believer, there is not one inch of God's kingdom over which Satan exercises dominion, not one circumstance in your life over which he reigns."
-John David Clark, Sr.

"There is no square mile of the surface of our planet, wet or dry, that has not been crossd by the shadow of a bird - except, perhaps, parts of the Antarctic continent"

-James Fisher