Moving Along

A cold, rainy day in a several-acre paved lot- this was my day today. Now that I've passed all the school's training and testing requirements, there's nothing left to do but smile, smile, smile. And do maneuvers in the school trucks- some are registered and street-legal, some are not. But they all run well enough to practice on. The only disadvantage is that, being somewhat longer of limb than many of my colleagues, it becomes a challenge getting into the seat- I usually have to move it back to avoid driving with my knees. But it's going surprisingly well- as long as you understand what the truck is meant to do and what it will do, you're all set- there's a great deal of interaction between driver and driven- must be why all the old-timers named their trucks. ( I have a few names for the old International with the sticky clutch I've been running as of late...) Apart from a few initial stall-outs, things are going well- don't leave the truck in gear when releasing the air brakes and putting the parking brake on, or the truck will have a mechanical grand mal seizure and stall out, leaving you wondering what the hell just happened and your field supervisor swearing a blue streak. But such are the things learning is made of, much like life- if you get it right, try to remember what you did. If you mess it up, try to remember what you did. In the one case, do it again. In the other, don't.

A Mathematical Existence, Questioning Its Reality

I want to go back
back to the beginning, where it all
began,
Infinite probabilities- the primal Chaos in which
I stand up on the lotus blossom, my
meditations ended, I reach out across
probabilities, my arm
decaying to bleach-white bones, I reach
across to infinite outcomes, I grab one with pain in nerves long since
ceasing to scream, to hear,
and I see the Light, its elephant-god head dissolving into
a web of possibilities, expanding complexity
we divide by zero and laugh at the equation sets, and He is still
creating order from the random laboring on, on,
I see too much, too much, I see
all waves collapse to a single point and I am
so luminous we cease to be
so real we cease to be
so alive we cease to discriminate not-I, not-I is only
A single point, mere numbers, and open my eyes
to the new sunrise across the highway