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                                                                                                               Oklahoma City, OK

Sunday September 23, 2007

     10:18am  I got a good seven hours and twenty minutes of sleep. I set my watch again. I crashed out on this bed in my sleeping bag and my rainbow pillow. This morning I woke up and I scored a shower. More like a rinse. Right now I just woke up. I don't have any more weed left. I smoked everybody out last night. Well, I got smoked out too. I'm sitting here


 


reading my Ishmael book on the front porch. Man, this book is so great. I'm reading here on page 109:

“The law we’re looking for is like the law of gravity: There is no escaping it, but there is a way of achieving the equivalent of flight—the equivalent of freedom of the air. In other words, it is possible to build a civilization that flies.”

I stared at him for a while, then I said, “Okay.”

“You remember how the Takers went about trying to achieve powered flight. They didn’t begin with an understanding of the laws of aerodynamics. They didn’t begin with a theory based on research and carefully planned experimentation. They just built contraptions, pushed them off the sides of cliffs, and hoped for the best.”

“True.”

“All right. I want to follow one of those early trials in detail. Let’s suppose that this trial is being made in one of those wonderful pedal–driven contraptions with flapping wings, based on a mistaken understanding of avian flight.”

“Okay.”

“As the flight begins, all is well. Our would–be airman has been pushed off the edge of the cliff and is pedaling away, and the wings of his craft are flapping like crazy. He’s feeling wonderful, ecstatic. He’s experiencing the freedom of the air. What he doesn’t realize, however, is that this craft is aerodynamically incapable of flight. It simply isn’t in compliance with the laws that make flight possible—but he would laugh if you told him this, He’s never heard of such laws, knows nothing about them. He would point at those flapping wings and say, ‘See? Just like a bird!’ Nevertheless, whatever he thinks, he’s not in flight. He’s an unsupported object falling toward the center of the earth. He’s not in flight, he’s in free fall. Are you with me so far?”

“Yes.”

“Fortunately—or, rather, unfortunately for our airman—he chose a very high cliff to launch his craft from. His disillusionment is a long way off in time and space. There he is in free fall, feeling wonderful and congratulating himself on his triumph. He’s like the man in the joke who jumps out of a ninetieth–floor window on a bet. As he passes the tenth floor, he says to himself, ‘Well, so far so good!’

“There he is in free fall, experiencing the exhilaration of what he takes to be flight. From his great height he can see for miles around, and one thing he sees puzzles him: The floor of the valley is dotted with craft just like his—not crashed, simply abandoned. ‘Why,’ he wonders, ‘aren’t these craft in the air instead of sitting on the ground? What sort of fools would abandon their aircraft when they could be enjoying the freedom of the air?’ Ah well, the behavioral quirks of less talented, earthbound mortals are none of his concern. However, looking down into the valley has brought something else to his attention. He doesn’t seem to be maintaining his altitude. In fact, the earth seems to be rising up toward him. Well, he’s not very worried about that. After all, his flight has been a complete success up to now, and there’s no reason why it shouldn’t go on being a success. He just has to pedal a little harder, that’s all."

“So far so good. He thinks with amusement of those who predicted that his flight would end in disaster, broken bones, and death. Here he is, he’s come all this way, and he hasn’t even gotten a bruise, much less a broken bone. But then he looks down again, and what he sees really disturbs him. The law of gravity is catching up to him at the rate of thirty–two feet per second per second—at an accelerating rate. The ground is now rushing up toward him in an alarming way. He’s disturbed but far from desperate. ‘My craft has brought me this far in safety,’ he tells himself. ‘I just have to keep going.’ And so he starts pedaling with all his might. Which of course does him no good at all, because his craft simply isn’t in accord with the laws of aerodynamics. Even if he had the power of a thousand men in his legs—ten thousand, a million—that craft is not going to achieve flight. That craft is doomed—and so is he unless he abandons it.”

“Right. I see what you’re saying, but I don’t see the connection with what we’re talking about here.”

Ishmael nodded. “Here is the connection. Ten thousand years ago, the people of your culture embarked on a similar flight: a civilizational flight. Their craft wasn’t designed according to any theory at all. Like our imaginary airman, they were totally unaware that there is a law that must be complied with in order to achieve civilizational flight. They didn’t even wonder about it. They wanted the freedom of the air, and so they pushed off in the first contraption that came to hand: the Taker Thunderbolt."

“At first all was well. In fact, all was terrific. The Takers were pedaling away and the wings of their craft were flapping beautifully. They felt wonderful, exhilarated. They were experiencing the freedom of the air: freedom from restraints that bind and limit the rest of the biological community. And with that freedom came marvels—all the things you mentioned the other day: urbanization, technology, literacy, mathematics, science."

“Their flight could never end, it could only go on becoming more and more exciting. They couldn’t know, couldn’t even have guessed that, like our hapless airman, they were in the air but not in flight. They were in free fall, because their craft was simply not in compliance with the law that makes flight possible. But their disillusionment is far away in the future, and so they’re pedaling away and having a wonderful time. Like our airman, they see strange sights in the course of their fall. They see the remains of craft very like their own—not destroyed, merely abandoned—by the Maya, by the Hohokam, by the Anasazi, by the peoples of the Hopewell cult, to mention only a few of those found here in the New World. ‘Why,’ they wonder, ‘are these craft on the ground instead of in the air? Why would any people prefer to be earthbound when they could have the freedom of the air, as we do?’ It’s beyond comprehension, an unfathomable mystery."

“Ah well, the vagaries of such foolish people are nothing to the Takers. They’re pedaling away and having a wonderful time. They’re not going to abandon their craft. They’re going to enjoy the freedom of the air forever. But alas, a law is catching up to them. They don’t know such a law even exists, but this ignorance affords them no protection from its effects. This is a law as unforgiving as the law of gravity, and it’s catching up to them in exactly the same way the law of gravity caught up to our airman: at an accelerating rate."

“Some gloomy nineteenth–century thinkers, like Robert Wallace and Thomas Robert Malthus, look down. A thousand years before, even five hundred years before, they would probably have noticed nothing. But now what they see alarms them. It’s as though the ground is rushing up to meet them—as though they are going to crash. They do some figuring and say, ‘If we go on this way, we’re going to be in big trouble in the not–too–distant future.’ The other Takers shrug their predictions off. ‘We’ve come all this enormous way and haven’t even received so much as a scratch. It’s true the ground seems to be rising up to meet us, but that just means we’ll have to pedal a little harder. Not to worry.’ Nevertheless, just as was predicted, famine soon becomes a routine condition of life in many parts of the Taker Thunderbolt—and the Takers have to pedal even harder and more efficiently than before. But oddly enough, the harder and more efficiently they pedal, the worse conditions become. Very strange. Peter Farb calls it a paradox: ‘Intensification of production to feed an increased population leads to a still greater increase in population.’ ‘Never mind,’ the Takers said. ‘We’ll just have to put some people pedaling away on a reliable method of birth control. Then the Taker Thunderbolt will fly forever.’"

“But such simple answers aren’t enough to reassure the people of your culture nowadays. Everyone is looking down, and it’s obvious that the ground is rushing up toward you—and rushing up faster every year. Basic ecological and planetary systems are being impacted by the Taker Thunderbolt, and that impact increases in intensity every year. Basic, irreplaceable resources are being devoured every year—and they’re being devoured more greedily every year. Whole species are disappearing as a result of your encroachment—and they’re disappearing in greater numbers every year. Pessimists—or it may be that they’re realists—look down and say, ‘Well, the crash may be twenty years off or maybe as much as fifty years off. Actually it could happen anytime. There’s no way to be sure.’ But of course there are optimists as well, who say, ‘We must have faith in our craft. After all, it has brought us this far in safety. What’s ahead isn’t doom, it’s just a little hump that we can clear if we all just pedal a little harder. Then we’ll soar into a glorious, endless future, and the Taker Thunderbolt will take us to the stars and we’ll conquer the universe itself.’ But your craft isn’t going to save you. Quite the contrary, it’s your craft that’s carrying you toward catastrophe. Five billion of you pedaling away—or ten billion or twenty billion—can’t make it fly. It’s been in free fall from the beginning, and that fall is about to end.”

At last I had something of my own to add to this. “The worst part of it is this,” I said, “that the survivors, if there are any, will immediately set about doing it all over again, exactly the same way.”

“Yes, I’m afraid you’re right. Trial and error isn’t a bad way to learn how to build an aircraft, but it can be a disastrous way to learn how to build a civilization.”

                     Victor would like to reiterate: "a paradox: ‘Intensification of production to feed an increased population leads to a still greater increase in population.’"

                     Starting on Page 105. Type all that shit up. It's awesome.

     11:03am  I'm all packed up. I'm all loaded up and going. My WPTMJ shirt was all dirty, so I put my PEACE TROUGH WEED shirt on.

                     The house I crashed at last night was on NW 50th Street and Classen Circle. I'm reading my Ishmael book. It's really great. I should change on my intro "We're still killing the EARTH..." Not the world.

     11:19am  I don't know what highway I'm walking on. I'm aiming for downtown.

                     44 East is the highway I was on. I'm taking the downtown exit now.

     11:38am  I'm going to stop and take a smokebreak under this bridge. NW 36th Avenue is a mile ahead.

     11:47am  I'm up from my smokebreak. I had one hit of weed left in my one-hitter, awesome. I'm having a good walk.

     12:01pm  I'm taking the NW 36th Street Exit. I see a tall building so I hope I'm headed towards downtown.

     12:07pm  I'm walking by the First Christian Church. I took a picture. A big dome.  





     12:09pm  I stopped in front of the church to rest. I'm going to eat a little bit too. I'm at Foster Avenue and NW 36th.

     12:19pm  I am up from my rest. I'm going to keep walking down NW 36th, hoping that's the way to downtown. Cool, I see a bus stop. Too bad today's Sunday. I'll have some Vienna sausages. Thanks, Shirley.

                     I'm walking down the street waving at cars. This one guy gave me the peace sign before I gave it to him. I'm sure it's my shirt. PEACE THROUGH WEED.

     12:29pm  I just passed Western. Turned left. I don't see a store or anything around here.

     12:33pm  Coming up on North Classen. I'm thinking downtown would be getting closer to First Street and I'm on 36th. Turning right.

     12:40pm  I found a Subway. I'm going to get some water.

                     Leaving the Subway.

     12:47.10pm  Passing 30th Street.

     1:02.33pm  Passed NW 23rd. I see a Gold Dome. The Multicultural Society.

     1:05.33pm  I'm going to sit down in the shade and rest.

     1:24pm  I am up from my break. I got resinated. I scraped me some resin.

     1:36.05pm  Just passed NW 13th. A billboard says, "Oklahoma City Capitol of the New Century." I'll take a picture of it, but, umm, I don't think it's the capitol.   





     1:38pm  Turning left on 12th Street for no reason whatsoever. I'm going towards the skyscrapers. So I guess there's a small reason, hehe.

     1:40pm  Turning left on Shartel Avenue. Big tall building.

     1:42pm  Turning left on NW 11th Street.

     1:46pm  Passing some Irma's Burger Shack. I'm walking down the sidewalk.

     1:47pm  I'm getting closer to downtown. I just took a picture.  





     1:49pm  I'm walking down 10th Street. No, I'm not. I'm walking down Walker Avenue and 10th Street.



     1:54pm  Passing 6th Street.

                    Turning right up here in Hudson Avenue. I see some trees over there. Probably a park.

     2:02pm  I stopped and took a picture of the big New World Order seal from the dollar bill, on this courthouse here. Crazy. How much more obvious does it have to be? I'm on Robinson Avenue now.





     2:06pm  Today's Sunday, September twenty third, by the way.

     2:26pm  I was walking in downtown Oklahoma City and all of a sudden this guy John, he had driven by and seen my shirt earlier, he pulled over and talked to me. He ended up volunteering me twenty dollars! Everybody gets credit, thanks.

                    John: "In The Book of John in the New Testament. Verses Chapters 1 - 13. Read these passages and meditate on them." 

                    10J081 Oklahoma plate. That was so rad. In downtown OKC some guy just pulls over in his car and asks me how I'm doing. I gave him the usual, "I'm the happiest man in the world. How are you?" He was cool. He tried preaching at me. I told him about the Essene Gospels of Christ that's on my webpage. He said he would read it. At first he said, "Peace through weed is okay." I told him, "Whatever works."  He pointed me the quickest way to 35. Robinson Avenue to 4th and turn right. Two miles.





     2:40pm  I was walking(looking like this) downtown and I spotted these people setting up cameras. I walked by and asked them what was going on. They told me there was a peace march about to come through. "Peace march?! No way!" Hell yeah! And I've got my PEACE THROUGH WEED shirt on. I'm going to pull out my sign.



                    I just jumped in the peace march. I'm holding my havethisbook.com sign. Awesome. I'll be sure to get pictures.









                    Ahh, the peace march stopped and they started reading off people's name who had died. I got bored. I'm going to walk to 10th and turn right.
                  
     2:39pm  I'm walking 10th about to pass Lincoln Boulevard.

                   I see signs pointing to 35. I'm going to keep walking down Lincoln.

                   Coming up on Reno Avenue. There's a gas station here. I'm going to see if they'll let me ask for rides. I'm over here by the highway.

     4:37pm  I forgot to tell you. I walked to the Circle K at Reno and Lincoln. I'm talking to Rachel, the cashier here. She let me refill my bottle with lemonade for free. I appreciate it, sister. Everybody gets credit, thanks. She's also listening to my story.





     5:20pm  I am leaving the Circle K. I'm going to walk a mile and a half down Reno and I'll get to a truckstop.

     5:43pm  I'm coming up to a big trucker travel center. There's a wafflehouse. A Shamrock gas station. A Petro Travel Plaza.

     6:44pm  I think I am going to leave the Petro. There's not a lot of traffic here. I'm going to go to that Shamrock gas station and ask for rides.

                   It's so cool! I met this dude from San Antonio and he's going to smoke me out!

     7:04pm  His name is Dante.


 


He's smoking a brother out behind the Shamrock. I appreciate it, brother. Everybody gets credit, thanks.

     8:10pm  Man, I am so full. Dante hooked me up at the Waffle House, man. The Waffle House is a real run-down place. There's a beautiful waitress name Stephanie. I got to start telling her my story on her smokebreak, but got cut off when her manager called her in. The place was a mess. She was telling customers when they walked in, "There's nowhere to sit. All the tables are dirty." I don't know why she wasn't cleaning it up, haha. Anyway, I'm going to try JR's truckstop, see if I can ask for rides there. At least take a piss.

                   Cool, Dante hooked me up with a little weed, too.

                   How glorious is that? That I meet some dude from San Antonio who totally blessed me and smoked me out and gave me a little weed. That was so awesome. San Antonio's got my back! He even told me that I had a lot of balls for what I'm doing.

     8:35pm  I'm trying to tell Gloria my story at the Petro. She listened at first, but when I asked her if she would work for free I lost her. She said, "Oh no, I like money. I like my boyfriend's money." Thanks for proving me right, Gloria.

     8:46pm  I just got ran out of the Petro, hehe. Because of the stupid cashiers who wouldn't listen to my shit. They ratted me out.

     8:54pm  I got smoked out by Dante again! Hell yeah.

     9:05pm  I met up with Dante and he smoked me out again in front of the truckstop. I sat down and smoked a cigarette. Oh yeah, I'm really glad I held on to those extra retaining pins I had I kept in my mission pouch. In Boulder, Colorado, I think, at some thrift store I had removed the pins from a shitty external frame they had and pocketed them, knowing I would need them someday. Boy, was I right. I was able to perform a successful operation on my pack in the Waffle House. I had lost a pin with all the walking I've done recently. Stephanie gets off of work at nine and she said she would listen to the rest of my story. Her and her boyfriend.

     9:08pm  I went in some fancy hotel and convention center inside and asked Bobbie, this pretty girl working if I could tell her my story. She told me no, but accepted my website. She told me, "Well, you're not allowed to loiter." I told her, "I'm not loitering. I'm talking to you."

     9:19pm  I just had yet another great presentation with this beautiful black girl. At first she was really against it, but in the end I had her saying, "That's true. That's true."

     9:55pm  I just had a badass presentation with Jeremy outside the Waffle House. He listened to my whole Odyssey and everything. He's Stephanie's boyfriend. He hooked me up with another cigarette. I appreciate it, brother. Everybody gets credit, thanks.  





     10:31pm  I forgot to mention. I made me a little campsite in this field behind the Waffle House. Underneath this tree. I put my rain poncho down on this grass under this tree. I hope the bugs stay underneath it. I'll be in my sleeping bag anyway, so I'll be protected. I hope nobody comes back here. Alright, well I'm going to smoke some weed Dante hooked me up with and go to bed.





Next day..

 

 

 


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