Independence

Greetings from the desert 🌵 Happy 4th! 🇺🇸🎉

Around 3am I heard a cat screech. It didn’t sound like Miso so I didn’t get up to check. I heard enough late night cat howling in Los Angeles to not be bothered by it. When the sun rose I went outside and called Miso for his usual big breakfast. A day had past without seeing him. I was relieved when I saw Miso trot over from the neighbor’s yard to ate. When he was finished eating we both lounged on the front stoop and watched the homeless across the yard mill about with their shopping carts. Early morning is the only time you can enjoy the sunlight this time of year. Vegas gets into the 90’s by 9am. As Miso and I lounged on the stoop I plucked brush from his fur. He lifted his head to nudge my hand as I pet his head, and that’s when I saw it. Dried brown blood on his neck fur. Not a lot. Nonetheless, the other cat clearly got him by the jugular. I hope Miso killed that cat.

There’s an older mangy fat orange stray cat my neighbor on the next stoop over takes care of. It’s a mess of a cat. But then again my neighbor is a mess of an old man. It’s the same cat I threw a rock at (intentionally missing it) when it jumped out from the bushes and attacked Miso as he was leaving my building. I would never kill a cat, but I could this one. I love my stray cat so much, other cats can die if it means he lives. No doubt that’s who Miso got into a scramble with. 

The homeless black guy from my previous blog was no longer camped outside my building. He’s moved up the street two blocks. No doubt the heat got to him. In a day or so it’ll just be another homeless guy. And then another. And then another. And another after that. How did this country become so plagued with human throwaways? Does no one take care of their own families anymore? What’s Venice beach, CA, looking like these days? 

The only light at the end of the tunnel...

Death is our final lot in life. So be the will of God, Darwin, fate, Dharma, aliens, King Kong, whatever you believe, take your pick. So be it’s will. (Sigh) Thankfully. 

I’m listening to little kids blow up fireworks. Think their uncaring fat disheveled mothers will take them to the ER when fingers get blown off? 

OHM movies movies movies

OHM movies movies movies

One of my favorite French films is BROTHERHOOD OF THE WOLF. Released in 2001. It stars, among others, Vincent Cassel, and Monica Bellucci, who is easily among the top five most beautiful women in the world. These two also starred together in a movie five years prior called The Apartment. Released in 1996. It’s always interesting for me seeing actors in a different movie environment from how I first saw them. I saw BOTW first. It’s is a visually stunning, gloriously made, artistic movie, whereas The Apartment, could have been performed on a stage. Both good films in their own ways, but it always throws me off when I see artistic period piece actors become real people. Know what I mean? Read Carl Jung. I’m a classic case of his psychology. Chronic dreamer. Artist. Wanting what I can’t have. I don’t belong in the real world. 

Earthquake? 

Around 10:45am today, Thursday, July 4th, my apartment started to sway back and forth. I live on a second floor walk-up. I turned on the news and learned California had another quake. 6.4 in the desert I think it was reported. An aftershock reached us in Las Vegas, about an hour later. 

The media and their hype. “Was this California’s big one?” 

Um. 

Is everyone dead in the ocean? 

No?

Than no. This was not the big one.