Okay, it’s posted, and the title is “Round Dance.” Oh, I said that already. Well, here’s a quotation that only hints at what you’ll find.

I’d relocated a tape of a dramatic rock & roll album by Tonio K. called “Life in the Foodchain” that went absolutely nowhere in 1978, but once again it shook my world. As if often the case with artists, Mr. K. was 25 years ahead of his time with social protest songs like “The Funky Western Civilization,” a high-energy, heart-rendingly acidic dance number with lines like, “grab your partner by the hair, throw her down and leave her there.” Naturally I had to dance, and that’s when it hit me: my ancient ’50s rockabilly moves and the Indian two-step were essentially the same thing! The implications of this are mind-blowing.

While you’re at it, take a look at the *new* JHFarr.com. Slowly but surely …

It’s always a crap shoot when you try a new firewood supplier. The last guy was very prompt, even came early, and delivered a huge load of greener-than-expected pine which required a welding torch to ignite and then just sat there and pretended to give off heat. Not very satisfactory. I fed a whole cord into a woodstove and a kiva fireplace in less than a month and still stayed cold.

My neighbors, meanwhile, found a supplier in the paper and had a wonderful cord of perfectly dry piñon and “mixed” delivered. The man who drove the truck was a six and a half-foot tall Hispano/Indian with shoulder muscles the size of watermelons and a long braided ponytail that reached to his belt. I liked him immediately. The wood was relatively inexpensive, and piñon burns HOT! Naturally, I put an order in with these people …

One just has to be detached about such life & death matters, at least in good ole Taos, NM.

That was Friday, but on Saturday I still had no wood. The man who runs the splitter hadn’t come in to work, I was told, but maybe Sunday. Then there was an emergency on the ranch my wood suppliers (a local couple) managed up in Chama, in Rio Arriba County, a couple of hours away. The big guy had to go up there and snowmobile his way in to fix whatever it was, then his snowmobile broke. His wife, who was going to split and deliver my wood herself (I pictured a skinny, small woman in a Harley-Davidson jacket), had to drive up there to deliver supplies and maybe spare parts, then the two of them spent Sunday night in a cabin they have there.

I found all this out last night, when I finally reached her at home. The guy who does the chopping still hasn’t showed up and her husband, the big guy, still isn’t back from the ranch to load the truck. They have the “blocks,” they just need to chop ‘em up. I could probably buy those and do my own chopping, but some of that piñon might require dynamite to split, and how could she ever load the truck with the heavier chunks, anyway?

No, I have to wait. Yesterday afternoon I fired up the chainsaw and cut up a pile of old boards that worked rather well in the Ashley last night, considering it got down to five degrees. It’s still only 12 outside, in bright sunshine. There are still more boards to cut, and I’m gonna cut ‘em. The word I have is, “later in the week, maybe Wednesday or Thursday.” After mulling that over, I told her to send TWO cords.

I don’t want to have to burn my furniture.

I needed a break from politics and organizing a writers’ series, so I decided to clean my doormat.

Big problem: said doormat is on the shady side of the house. Recent snows and overnight lows down to near zero meant the doormat was virtually encased in ice. And lest you get the wrong impression, this doormat rests on a lumpy assortment of stones half-buried in the dirt. There is no sidewalk, no patio, no pavement, no grass. All is, or was, covered in semi-solid snow, overlaid with millions of sunflower seed hulls from feeding the birds. (That’s another story, how I discovered why I shouldn’t do that.) Anyway, the doormat, one of those bulky jute things from a mill operated by skinny barefoot 12-year-olds in some 4th-world country where it never snows, would not budge. Not even after more applications of dumped buckets of hot water than I can count. Let me tell you, ice is amazing stuff, especially when the earth itself is frozen.

But I persevered. In the face of something ridiculous and essentially meaningless, I always persevere. That meant MORE hot water, more tugging and cursing, more attempted prying it off the ground with a big stick, more bashing at the edges with a splitting maul. Finally, it gave (whew). I now have it propped up in the sun to dry or at least get spiffed up a little.

All this because a pretty girl I haven’t seen for six months is coming down to visit. (In my experience, most women expect a doormat, at least in the winter.) After she flies back to Iowa, though, that sucker stays put till spring.

This is what my living room looked like last night at midnight, illuminated only by the fireplace, candles, and Christmas lights. Greetings to all and happy holidays from Llano Quemado!

If I ever get a handle on this, things are gonna rock.

Right now though, life is just too damn full to even go online, much less update a blog. I have more things to say than I could possibly communicate, ever. Even the more mundane aspects of How to Live are pulling me into new dimensions.

Take this, for example: why is it that burning piñon and pine together makes a fire that lasts longer and burns hotter than one built exclusively with one fuel or the other? If you know, don’t tell me — you’ll just spoil things. But consider that I live in a hundred-year-old adobe house with mud floors. There is no central heat. The windows are single-pane, uninsulated glass. I have a kiva fireplace (pictured) and an ancient Ashley wood stove. It was below zero last night! Making all this work is a major accomplishment, but if you look at today’s Fotofeed, you’ll get a feel for what can be done.

(Hmm. I see I’ve been laying it on kinda heavy with the adobe crap. Earlier posts, etc. Well, so be it. I’m telling you though, this is pretty special.)

Peter Eavis, senior columnist for TheStreet.com, has some interesting things to say in what should be a very sobering article entitled “Fed’s Folly Will Come Due in 2004.”

He’s betting that the fake, credit-propelled recovery will still get Bush elected, but then everything will go to hell, including a housing market crash resulting from forced sales. The reason is simple enough and may account for the current drop in consumer confidence I saw mentioned today: debt. Trillions of dollars worth of debt. Debt, debt, debt. Higher interest rates, even massively higher rates, are just around the corner, according to this analysis. I’m not going to dwell on this too much now, especially as it’s one of my Old Songs, but even the most sanguine observers seem to agree that the Fed is in uncharted waters at this point.

But what if it really did happen this time, a dollar crash, perhaps, with resulting inflation and high interest rates that devastate the debt-burdened U.S. economy (and with it, the rest of the world)? In this environment, what would be the best strategy? Maybe it really will be time to detach from the consumer economy, figure out what’s really meaningful in our lives.

There is, after all, only one kind of “security,” and not even Bush can buy it.

What, Macworld?

Yeah sure, but the BIG NEWS just now is that I’ve just posted a new GRACK!column at JHFarr.com after a long holiday hiatus. The essay itself, entitled “Message From the Front,” will explain a lot, so please go see!

I probably shouldn’t even post this at a Mac site, but has that ever stopped me before?

My life vis-a-vis the world of Macintosh has changed radically since I no longer get paid to write about Apple. Interestingly, for all my love of the platform, I mostly don’t seem to care that much anymore. For the first time in years, I didn’t “watch” the stuttering QuickTime webcast of today’s Macworld keynote, yet I had a great time in the real world. And judging by the paucity of good hard news from the trade show, I’d have been really outraged if I’d spent good money to go to San Francisco just to visit Moscone.

Don’t get me wrong, now. An iPod would be nice, and I love the software announcements. Some day when I have a faster Mac, broadband, and have time to play with these things, I’ll show you what I can do with the music apps. Apple is awfully good at providing incredible tools for creative people. I don’t think the apps will make people creative, however. There won’t be an outpouring of hot new music just because making it is easier — or should I say GOOD new music — but anyone so inclined and possessed of the requisite talents will be excited (and with good reason).

However, I have the notion that we are approaching the end of a long cultural cycle. I think “branding” is still valid, but teetering, like a stumbling giant with a brain tumor. When bowl games were named for their sponsors, for example, I quit watching. What I’m getting at here is that society has gone about as far as it can with a value system that equates ownership of certain products with virtue, intelligence, or the attainment of some kind of “success.” What this has gotten us, among other things, is a national government that exists only to promote the fortunes of major corporations and the highest levels of household debt in the country’s history. This ain’t all there is, in other words.

“Well, what WOULD you have us do?”

Frankly, I don’t know. My own life is a terrible model, based on the value system of the preceding paragraphs, but I’m discovering a few things. Far too slowly for my taste, I might add, but the direction is clear: self-empowerment on a scale that can’t be measured by market share or opinion polls, and a value system that recognizes our true place in the world. If I have any insights, I’ll continue to share them along the way.

As for Apple, I love it, but so what? How can we be happy when the power goes off and the money’s all gone? Not that there’s any reason to expect those things, but surely we have other games to play. We’re all going to die, for example, but is that so bad? Who says it is? Is that why I’ve paid out enough in health insurance premiums to pay for a house or a whole other life?! Something isn’t right, and the solution has nothing to do with either old-time religion or owning the latest Apple gear — or even a new Harley [sigh].

Yeah, I want a motorcycle. But for the noise and speed, not for the brand. For the THRILL, in other words. Passion is cool, you know, and if that’s what makes you want to boot up that G5 and see what GarageBand can do, well hell, go for it, babes, and I’ll be right there with ya.

Oh good, some controversy on the MyMac staff mailing list regarding branding.

Steve Consilvio wrote:

Does advertising no longer work? Aieeeee. I want what you say to be true, since it would imply that there is intelligent life on this
planet. But where is the trend? In one of my trade magazines, a guy was
paid to have a tattoo put on the back of his head. He now walks around
showing off his shaved head and the logo. The company is an ISP.

The shaved-head guy is an ass.

Not arguing over whether brands matter or not. What *I* am getting at is based totally on intuition (or is it projection? . My point is that for more and more people, clinging to brand identifications doesn’t scratch that itch. We’ve mostly been manipulated into believing that owning the right car, the right computer, the right insurance, the right retirement plan, the right damn toothpaste, whatever, assures superiority, security, and freedom from death (hahaha). Millions spend their weekends roaming the freeways and malls (and Web sites) in search of “scoring” the Perfect Deal on That Certain Product, come home, open it up, and feel fulfilled for 40 minutes.

SOME people, however, think this sucks. I do, and I don’t do it any more. My frequent exhortations for people to remove themselves from the TV/magazines/advertising teat reflects a belief that new (old?), inherent, ORGANIC human/spiritual values will emerge in most folks’ minds if they do. This also applies to politics and other belief systems.

I walk through the supermarket checkout and don’t know any of the faces of the people in the magazines. I still get Car & Driver in the mail but don’t recognize the vehicles and have not the slightest desire to own a truck that costs as much as a house. To me this is freedom. Freedom from want and freedom from wanting, or being instructed in what to want. What’s more, I’m just beginning to get the hang of this. The dynamics I’m hinting at are much bigger than whatever’s involved in branding and apply to everything. I also think anyone can play.

Unfortunately, I hardly know what I’m talking about here. It’s mostly a feeling, but I do know it has to do with breaking free of just about everything we’ve ever been taught. Not easy to do, and anyone who follows me off the end of the plank without LONG introspection has no more core than the poor dweeb who shaved a logo onto his head. And once you jump, you can’t climb back on board: you’re in the sea with all the other critters. The thing is, the ship you just left is in it too. only nobody realizes.

Having said all that, it’s probably best to leave the subject and shut up. A little Zen Buddhism would come in handy here and now, as I’ve just built a whole ‘nother trap, in case nobody noticed.

The headline ain’t no joke.

That’s right. Tomorrow I make the rounds of local Web developers, graphics shops, galleries, publishers, tech firms, and any others I can find. I’m looking mainly for Web work, technical writing, Mac consulting, digital photography work, tasks that makes use of my magnificent proven skills and experience (here’s the resumé link). I’m also available as a writer, columnist, editor, publicist, copywriter, or someone to feed & water the llamas. I can even do design work, draw cartoons, or write you a song. Freelance contract, part-time, full-time all good, would gladly commute within 60 minutes of Taos.

Interested parties can contact me here. Oh! I would have included Mac writing in the above (news, commentary, etc.), but it doesn’t pay squat! If enough sites were interested in subscribing to a regular feed, however, that could be arranged.

This is a last-minute alert, because in the press of Major Life Issues, I just forgot!

I’m appearing today on a radio show called “Spotlight on New Mexico.” Just point your browsers to KTAO-FM and hit the “click to stream” link at around 5:00 p.m. MST and you’ll here reading from my Web column and talking about whatever host Brandt Legg chooses to ask me. That’s only about two and a half hours after this post, so I hope some one you see it in time.

KTAO-FM in Taos, NM, the world’s most powerful solar-powered radio station, yassuh.

This is all about my “GRACK!” Web column at JHFarr.com. I finally finished the latest self-published marvel, nn easy-going romp you will enjoy, safe as bunny-milk.

——————

[GRACK!] Esoterics for Dummies

“Meanwhile, back in New Mexico, I found the Motor Vehicle Division, parked, took a deep breath, and walked inside. Glory be, there were several empty seats in the mostly-full waiting room. I took a number, 27. The sign on the wall said they were currently serving #21, so I felt better. Then I saw there was only one clerk behind the counter. 30 minutes later they were serving #22, but another clerk had entered the scene. He’d been dealing with a new resident and his wife who needed all the trimmings and had a couple of cars to register. New Subarus, both of them. (It’s always Subarus with the new ones. The snow, you know. White death.)”

http://www.jhfarr.com/grack/

http://www.jhfarr.com/grack/grack_1-12-04.html

———————-

There. That wasn’t so bad, was it?

First of all, a BIG “Thank you!” to MyMac’s Jeffrey McPheeters for making it all possible. The whole episode is a brilliant example of what can be easily and quickly accomplished with Apple technology, too.

At any rate, this is a real pleasure, folks. My dramatic readings yesterday on KTAO-FM here in Taos (“The world’s most powerful solar radio station“) are a smash hit. Just have a look, then visit the links below to listen for yourselves.

“I listened to the whole interview, and found myself mesmerized by your readings. Personally, I don’t think it gets much better than hearing stories or poetry read aloud. For all your imagination, hearing someone read the words with emotion, only adds to the experience. I was enthralled!”

“I loved it, what great writing. And your reading is even better than reading it myself. Thanks for letting us listen in. It was a real treat.”

“Very intriguing stories. I loved your voice as well as the material.”

“You’ve got a good radio voice, you know. Something on the order of Garrison Keillor — no shit! Although you don’t have that gravelly thing he has, you certainly sound poised and confident and are an easy listen.”

“… you were killer on the air, you have the voice and the energy, the sense of drama. It’s another perfect medium for you, it really is.”

“I’ve been reading pretty well everything John has written for the past 6 years and I was amazed to find how much better the writings are when read by himself.”

For a downloadable MP3 recording compressed in <.zip> or <.hqx> format for Windows or Mac OS, please visit this page:

Additionally, a QuickTime stream is accessible here:

[PC and Mac users can download the latest free QuickTime software at http://www.apple.com.]

Until the “edit” functionality is restored to these blog posts, the only option is to repost. I left the brackets on the links to Jeffrey’s MP3 recording of my radio interview, so they disappeared from the previous entry.

Here then is what SHOULD have been posted:

You can listen to a QuickTime stream here: http://homepage.mac.com/jeffreym/iMovieTheater12.html

Or you can download a file in .mp3 format here: http://homepage.mac.com/jeffreym/FileSharing.html

Whew.

I seem to have very little to say at the moment. Haven’t turned out a GRACK! column yet, either. No doubt this all has to do with issues hinted at below or the fact that I’m selling the furniture.

They say things are darkest just before the dawn, which is something fervently to be hoped, since when it comes to GWB and the state of the world, we seem to be entering only deeper and more extra-dimensional layers of darkness. Almost impossible to believe, the corruption and mendacity in the government, media, business, finance, and banking worlds extends across all other areas of human endeavor. Besides that, I dropped a chunk of firewood on my toe and the damn nail’s turned purple.

My horoscope for today says “Many things are prevented from entering people’s lives because they are too tense to let them in,” which makes perfect sense, and that my attitude of relaxation and willingness to let my life flow without the tension of resistance will attract good things. That’s why I decided to do the darkness dump and get it out of the way. After posting this, I’m going to put on fresh clothes, spiff myself up, and sit calmly for as long as I can stand it, doing nothing, to let the rest of the tensions seep out of my body. (Then I’m going to jump off a bridge, hahaha. Kidding! Just kidding!!)

The fact is that I’m really in the business of concentrating on other happier realities at the moment. Life orders itself according to belief systems, which accounts in large measure for the what I mention in that first paragraph. Not circumstances which reflect MY beliefs one iota, dammit, this being the most obvious reason why we have to get off the national Train to Hell and start thinking for ourselves.

Anyway, I have more stuff to sell. A well-used but still glorious soul-soaked Gibson ES-335 semi-hollow body electric 12-string and an actual Fender Twin Reverb amp, to be precise. Neither of these is in pristine museum-quality condition because of the “well-used” part, you understand, but everything works. For them and the hutch, you’ll have to come to Taos to pick ‘em up, but don’t worry: you can still drive here, spend a few days, and head safely back for home without ever having your mind permanently blown. Even a few weeks wouldn’t do it.

Stay longer than a month, though, and you’re in big trouble.

The new iLife ad copy. I can’t believe this:

“It’s like Microsoft Office for the rest of your life. Introducing iLife ’04″

Friends, this turneth my stomach. It causeth me to run for the bathroom. It leaveth me in nausea and confusion. Hear me, o Cupertino …

“The LAST THING I want in my life is anything having to do with Microsoft! This is a STUPID STUPID STUPID (3X) way to sell iLife!!!”

There. Do I feel better? Not much. But I can tell you this: that leaves such an unwholesome taste in my psyche that it will discourage me from buying iLife. I will have to hold my nose and close my eyes to ever order the bleeding thing. I want nothing to do with Microsoft, ever, for all time, under any circumstances, if at all possible. Die, Microsoft, die. I pull your plug. You are expired. Go home. Take your zillions and go live in Afghanistan where they can use the money. Begone. Vanish. And do NOT have a nice day.

Yes, yes, yes, I know: they’re addressing Windows users, who vastly outnumber Mac users. Apple is pimping for hardware sales, obviously. But it still stinks. The damn server knows I’m visiting with a Mac, so put up a different ad for Mac users, you freaking pathetic scum-sucking mercenary WIMPS! Show some dignity.

[I'd like to give you MyMac readers some exclusive content, but this fresh piece is too nice to leave at my Salon blog. I'll keep trying. -- JHF]

Who knows how much powder fell last night?

It was awesome watching the huge fluffy flakes fall silently straight down when I turned on the outside light. There’s plenty for now, at least, and lot more than can be seen in this picture. Here’s a gander through my kitchen window. That’s the neighbor’s adobe just the other side of their woodpile. The husband is a really cool Hindu PhD from NYC who chants his prayers outside every morning, makes me want to be anything but white-bread Johnny, I tell you what. What a great neighborhood.

The clouds are still oozing snow onto the higher peaks, so I can’t see any blue sky yet. When the sun comes out, it’ll be stunning beyond belief.

Which reminds me: when I first moved out here and started bitching about the hardships, a friend in Maryland told me I couldn’t live on landscapes. Well, that’s true. But after four years, I don’t know how I could live without the kind of raw drama of nature that grabs me by the neck and makes me gasp. And speaking of hardships, economic and otherwise, do NOT “retire” out here, no matter what the idiot tourist people tell you! I’m not kidding. It will blow up your life and kill you. If you want your old self blown away, fine, go for it. Anyway, I’m not remotely in a state of rest.

Late blooming all the way to my grave, I am.

Post-Friday Cat Blogging

It’s not my fault, really.

Kevin Drum at CalPundit has pushed me over the the edge, and I may well have needed the shove. Powerless to resist several relevant urges, I hereby join the nascent cat blogging movement with TWO pictures of cats who don’t get along but have grown to tolerate sittting on opposite sides of the window.

That’s Hobbes (otherwise knowns as Señor Buenopornada) on the inside and Sherlock, my landlord’s cat, on the outside. Sherlock would be friends, but Hobbes was tossed into the weeds as a mere infink and raised by humans. I don’t think he knows what a cat is, frankly. Perhaps sharing the New Mexico sun of a winter’s morn will change his life. That his picture is on the Internet will not, but at least I have posted it here before the Great Hobnailed Boot of Irony consigns cat blogging to the dustbin of history. I, however, will be able to say, “I was there.”

Cat bloggers post on Fridays, I understand. Scroll down the CalPundit page and you’ll see what I mean. I’m glad to get in on this, probably just what I need. I’m also not going to sell my Gibson ES-335 12-string or the Fender Twin Reverb amp. Earth needs music and so do I. Screw the rent. There must be a better way to sell out and maybe cat blogging will lead me to it.

Meow, y’all.

Oh, I’ve been busy, I have. What’s more, the nifty *FREE GIFTS* download system for FarrFlash subscribers is now in place.

If you sign up for my weekly newsletter by going here, you’ll be directed to a download page for the latest Holy Fire Journal. Volume 4 features the last four columns I’ve written for Horse Fly, a one-of-a-kind monthly newspaper here in Taos. Since Holy Fire Journal is a PDF, I’ve been able to add some great color photos that go with the essays.

And of course there’s GRACK!. If you’re into cool shots of 1971 Gibson ES-335 12-strings, this is the column for you. Here’s the blurb:

————————-

[GRACK!] Nexus of Desire

“An hour and a quarter later I turned the Fender off, unslung the axe, and knew I’d never sell the pair if I could help it. What’s more, I started thinking dangerously. Rock & roll will never die, you know, and neither will reggae if the Navajos have anything to say about it: there’s reggae on the rez now. I was listening to a Native music show today on a station out of Albuquerque and heard raw skankin’ thump that blew my mind. I mean, I just rolled the volume up and there it was, in all its glory. This is all so cool, I can hardly stand it, and anyone who wants me to feel bad can just go to hell.”

Current column always here:
http://www.jhfarr.com/grack/index.html

This column archived at:
http://www.jhfarr.com/grack/grack_1-26-04.html

————————————–

As long as I have your attention (?), I’ll also mention that I’m silly enough to advertise a Web Site Design Special at Zoopilot.com. The page isn’t up yet, but within the next 24 hours you’ll be able to access a project I’m running as an experiment, namely cheap, clean, fast Web sites (1-3 pages, w/photos) for only $300. I also want to see if there are enough artists, craftspeople, small businesses, and individuals out there who want fast, inexpensive, no-hassle service to make this feasible. I’ll even register the domains myself and set up hosting through Brownrice.com here in Taos. Brownrice offers unlimited email accounts, free newslists, and all sorts of extras for only $20/month, payable quarterly. This is a great deal for anyone who needs to hang a shingle up in cyberspace without a lot of worry or expense, and I’ll probably regret the discount price. This link will take you to Zoo Pilot Publishing now, but within a day you’ll see another option. Hurry up and order your cheapo site before I get famous:

http://www.zoopilot.com

What else? WHAT ELSE?! I’ll tell you what else: Bo Diddley is performing at the Lensic Theater in Santa Fe this Thursday and I’m gonna go. What if I freaking died before seeing Bo Diddley live and in the flesh? I’m almost broke but don’t tell Visa, which is also going to put gas in my F-150. Both tanks, by God.

George Bush can go to hell (and surely will, anyway).

For that matter, MasterCard and Visa can go to hell, and all those with hearts like a five-year-old walnut are secure in their reservations too. I’m done with it all, with struggle and bitterness. Besides, we can always crank that up if needed. For now, phooey on everyone who doesn’t give a damn about life and nature and the eternal drumbeat of love. I’M GOING TO SEE BO DIDDLEY TONIGHT at the Lensic Theater in Santa Fe. My own ticket to heaven is assured. St. Peter will lean down, peer into my eyes, and ask, with garlic and tomato on his breath:

“So … have you ever been DIDDLED?”

And I’ll say, “Oh yessir, you bet, absolutely,” then beat out that special rhythm on my thigh.

This pilgrimage, for that’s what it is, involves almost four hours of driving a 17-year-old pickup through a long canyon and over broad stretches of open country. It also takes me through the lowrider capital of New Mexico, past half a dozen Indian casinos, and down into LatteLand. In the same trip, I’ll see more doublewides with tires on the roofs and fancy SUVs with tires on the road than anyone would ever think could co-exist in the same space and time without fomenting violent revolution. Is this a great country or what?

The question (NOT rhetorical!) is actually irrelevant. The “country” is irrelevant! This is a state of being I’m talking about, one in which the thump of one man’s soul is counts more than any ideology or fake lines on a map that can’t be seen from space.

This is Bo Diddley Day and I’m going. Liberation for all, and to all, a good night.