Dead blog is being resurrected, baby!

Well, depending on the WiFi at Sacred Stone is whether or not I can post.

Yes, I’m going go to Sacred Stone to support the water protectors. I will stay as long as I feel useful, but no longer then the week after Thanksgiving because, money.

I am planning to update to this blog. I’m hoping I’m not such a shy asshole that I can’t find something or someone to help out/talk to/learn from so AT LEAST I’ll have something interesting to post.

Might also be a few guest bloggers. Stay tuned!

I have to say, my friends (and their friends) have been extremely helpful and have filled in all my camping needs for N. Dakota. In November. Which is INSANE. And so outside my comfort zone. You have NO idea.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need yet ANOTHER glass of wine because Trump is ahead in Florida. WTF is wrong with Florida???

Port of Spain, Trinidad June 4th – 9th, 2014

(Cross posted at Peter Marina’s blog)

The plane hopped and hopped from Antigua to St. Lucia, Barbados, and St. Vincent & the Grenadine Islands all the way down to Trinidad — the last island in the Leeward Islands so far south that it kisses Venezuela. Port of Spain, Trinidad’s capital, bursts with colors of every kind. The colors of the visualscapes coalesce with the soundscapes of the bustling city, a stone’s throw away from Venezuela. Walking down Charlotte Street between Park Street and Independence Square just East of Woodford Square where political subversives shout their speeches, one immediately notices the vibrant colors – skin colors from charcoal black to pasty white, hair textures ranging from straight, dead hair to radically alive afros, vegetables and fruits of every variety and color including bright reds, greens, blacks, purples, and yellows.

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And now for something completely different…

A guest post by Gonzo Alfman (a friend of Huppy’s):



This is by no means a scholarly treatise and in no way does it pretend to be. There was no research in those tomes shelved in great libraries. There are no citations to great works, no et seqs or op cits or ibids. This is merely a presentation of the author’s beliefs based on his experiences and accumulated perceptions during his life and the observations and opinions derived therefrom and the same are colored, as all such are, by his biases, such as those might be. I do not ask the reader, should might even there be one, to adopt the opinions and beliefs set forth herein, but only to give open and fair consideration to any proffered matters that might be revealed.

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Huppy on Running with the Bulls in Chiapas: A Critical Observation*

What was interesting about the unexpected running with the bull on a Chiapas highway was not the excitement, or the rush of running for what we thought was our lives, or a practice session for running with the bulls in Pamplona with my father, or the rare opportunity to run in panic with dozens of Mayan descendants in one moment of shared experience. Rather, it was the structures of authority in place and its comparison to the United States – that wealthy and unenchanting world of reasoned irrationality – a token (as the neo-Marxist Marcuse would say) of advanced (un)civilized progress.

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