Here lies Martes Flavigula, eternally beneath the splintered earth.

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Thu, 12 Nov, 2020 10.29 UTC

Thank you for reminding me that I should be steeping my tea. Today, I drink _Touareg_, which differs from my _rough draft_ version of this entry, in which I was drinking _Lady Grey_. The contrast is sharp, or, as we say in Lakife, _hele kotzom_. Also, I commented in my _rough draft_ that _Lady Grey_ is tea for an elitist. In some way or another, I'm certainly an elitist. I also made the comment _British bastards_ in reference to _Lady Grey_. I'm under the impression that all _Earl Grey_ style teas originate...

Mental models
Wed, 11 Nov, 2020 09.46 UTC

I put on the album _Perhaps_ by Harold Budd before beginning this moment-dump. I glanced through the review at Samadhi Sound previously. It's an album of improvisations, like some of Budd's other work. I appreciate that. Of course, I cannot pay attention to the **details** whilst writing, but the ambience the sound-universe makes is splendid. I miss multitudinous details whilst attempting to commit the mortal sin upon focus: multitasking. Yes, listening to music during **writing** or **programming** or **sh...

Tue, 10 Nov, 2020 11.21 UTC

I interrupted myself by answering Christián's comment concerning his current listening obsessions. This time round, it happens to be Brian Eno. Good for him. Not for Brian, but for Christián. Brian knows nothing of Christián. Actually, this also may be a good thing. So good for both of them. I'm happy that my friend is discovering music that I have been talking about, indeed _championing_ for decades. Here's my issue. Some people have a manner of expressing themselves that rubs my fur incorrectly. Christi...

Mon, 09 Nov, 2020 10.06 UTC

I'll return after I begin the steeping of TEA. A concern I have lately is memory. I'm referring to the actual process of memory. It's actually not a concern of just lately, but of most of my life. Unfortunately, when I address it, my strategies only work for a few days, maybe a week, perhaps an epoch or two, and then I lapse back into a malaise. Specifically, I'm writing about short-term memory. I have always somewhat had my _head in the clouds_. Because of this, I miss details as I wander through my days...

Mental models
Sat, 06 Jun, 2020 15.19 UTC

If the reach between what we perceive and what actually "is" is as infinite as it seems to me, then our perceptions during waking and our perceptions during dreaming are equally valid. It goes without saying, or writing, or squawking that our perceptions whilst flummoxed on some drug or another is also equally valid. As there are other shambling physical forms in the world, the way we perceive them during moments of wakefulness, dreaming, drugged out bliss or psychotic rage isn't as important as the way we ...

Fri, 05 Jun, 2020 17.57 UTC

Instead of claiming that something is the _best_ of some genre or other category, I need to remember to use _my favourite_, instead, not for **political correctness**, of course, but to tone down all things arrogant inside me. > Boorish when I awake. My nap was useless, of course, since now I feel much worse than I did before. Except for the fatigue, I am the same plus the added symptoms of too much sleep and not enough activity. I am very indisciplined. Solving this hateful aspect of my personality (which...

Tue, 26 May, 2020 21.56 UTC

> I wonder what makes my upper torso smell good. On the days I wash my hair (every other day), Marcie always claims I smell very good, but, on the other days, I wash my face, neck and armpits with the same shampoo that my hair is cleansed with. Perhaps my hair influences my smell more than I can reckon from simple observation. If I shaved it off, I would not have this problem, surely, but I shall not. My hair is important now and I can't get rid of it. It models a part of my personality as surely as the way...

Mon, 25 May, 2020 10.14 UTC

> I just received a letter from the municipal court of Houston, surely declaring that my check bounced and I owe them a lot of money - $150 to be exact. My money situation is grim, actually. I owe Friendswood court $138 and Houston municipal, as noted, $150. Where the hell am I going to come up with the money? I'll leave it up to God and his little guardian angels who flutter 'round my head like moths around a blazing bulb. > > On the same note - I wonder when my Hawkwind t-shirts are going to come in - or ...

Sun, 24 May, 2020 17.56 UTC

> You can't live your life in a pine box, mister. The kitchen yawned as I walked into its midst this morning, then settled back into some sort of dumb, droning daftness that kitchens are known for. I opened the refrigerator to obtain my morning meal. The garbage can stood like a dungheap in defiance of anyone who dared move it, try to sink clean hands into its murky recesses, grasping for, perhaps, some sort of handle to use for easy carrying. You can certainly live your life in a gypsum plasterboard box, ...

Sat, 23 May, 2020 17.35 UTC

Herr Christián mentioned that he considers the _aristocracy_ those that feel their ilk, meaning those closest to them, meaning their families, deserve to be in some means **above** others. In that the so-called **nobility** in the forlorn times was something akin (pun intended) a giant family, he is correct. Familiarity breeds a feeling of superiority, a group-think nobility. This idea extends from the family to the community and to the city and nation. It is another form of bubble, and concentric bubbles w...

Sat, 23 May, 2020 14.21 UTC

I started reading _The Lost Art of Scripture_ by Karen Armstrong yesterday. I read another one of her books in my early twenties and it helped spawn a part of my life very interested in exploring religion, myth and their effects on culture and the people I knew at the time. During more recent decades, I've separated religion from what Karen calls the arts and left it in a box to rot under the bed in the apartment I lived in back then in Houston. Perhaps part of the present _Bobbus_ wants to summon a bit of ...

Along with martens, goulish goats and the rippling fen -
these writings 1993-2022 by Bob Murry Shelton are licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 4.0

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