cerebral palisades

something new, if not a revelation:

w., j. and i (a.) are no longer together, have not been for some time, do not inhabit the same salmon colored mental or physical space in providence, much to our chagrin. but we have interests and outlets and, of course, other blogs. well, namely, j. has another blog, while i'm initiating one to replace the ruined momentofapocalypse.blogspot.com.

j. is out cavorting with gaia right now, having initially aimed for a year-long marriage now settling for a less impressive four or five month jaunt north on the appalachian trail. a fetid mutation of modest mouse and smashing pumpkins had been metastasizing within his being for some time, and i guess it eventually transformed from a fetal being into an amorphous gestalt sort of thing burrowing around various openings and closings, internal and external and back again. so he can be found at thisisalongwalk.blogspot.com.

w. is newly engaged to a tomb of tomes and i imagine is pondering his next blog move, whether a return to the salmon colored world or a severing of worldly ties, salmon colored and otherwise tinted: naturally, everything shall be asked of him, and in return i imagine everything shall be granted.

i'm in buenos aires right now, waiting for a sign or a vision. soon i'll be doing this in la paz, bolivia, where i hear signs and visions are being constructed and had more rapidly and with higher impact, a little more authenticity for your beleagured louie v. wallet, a higher tapestry thread count, you get the picture. the forthcoming tell-all can be previewed at catsinthecraddle.blogspot.com.

on a side note, it seems that there are indigenous tribes calling it quits, asking journalists to explain to them the concept of "the future". (obviously, i would like to have such a job at some point.) this is in colombia, while in the arctic circle some inuit villages are decamping, calling it a culture, throwing in the seal skin. the solution--if not an inuit-nukak-maku master race--might be a reentry curriculum for failed (okay, exhausted) indigenous tribes, standardized and taught in a number of discreet but mildly victorian classrooms strategically positioned across the world. simple lessons, like the concept of money and exchange (and, soon enough, capital, social security, W2 forms), the future, time, airplanes (those aren't invisible sky roads, silly), city council campaigns, and proper monkey-grilling etiquette when you're among mixed company.

so if anyone else wants to sign on, fund this project, or just help me make some monkey jerky, send a telegram.