Okay,One More… WildernessPunk

Alright, so I said the last post might be the final WildernessPunk post, at least for a while. On a side note, it has been odd not writing them. However, as plans go I think I won’t be accumulating any bad karma or letting down my integrity by completing a few aspects of the WildernessPunk theme. Either I’m wrapping it up or setting the stage for a new beginning. I guess time will weigh in on which direction it goes.

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Yet although a few things of note have occurred, WildernessPunk was never intended to be a dairy, so for this post, I’m inclined to just let the pictures speak for themselves and let your imaginations fill in the rest.

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For any fact lovers out there, the Wilderness part of WildernessPunk slowed down officially on the evening of Sunday 10/16/16. I got a place of sorts coming full circle to the rat-trap I first stayed when I migrated out of the woods and back into Fake World after all Hells had broken loose for me in April.

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I sit and pace in the shabby, but feel a little happy. For some reason this place gets AMC and I’ve been twirling through a Walking Dead marathon, getting my Rot on, while working on my own Zombie Apocalypse fiction. I never saw season 6. (Hard to get that done when all your possessions are removed and you live in the forest.) So, it’s been a triple layered climax as I go through the first five, then a season I didn’t see, and the first of a new season tonight. I’m nerding out a little, but hell I haven’t watched television in over half a year.

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I would say something along the lines of it’s the little things, but this isn’t little. Some of the scenes in this show have hit me in the gut with a sledge hammer. When Rick and Carl are reunited with baby Judith… I look it hard core.

 

So what’s worse than the Zombie Apocalypse? Answer… our Legal System. At least Rick gets to hold his baby.

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I had another epiphany since the last post, which left an impression. I managed to see MDC, Millions of Dead Cops, Multi-Death Corporation, Millions of Damn Christians etc. Two songs they sung affected me.

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The first was Dick for Brains.

 

“Oh baby, I love you true, I’d do anything you want me to, but why, why? Dick for brains. Dick for brains Why am I so insane. Let you give me a golden shower, but why? Why? Dick for brains.”

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And I thought, this has been my theme song for too long. It’s time to change the paradigm or perhaps I already have.

 

Then conversely, I heard them sing Selfish Shit. “I take what I want or else I throw a fit. I don’t care who I take it from because I’m a selfish shit… welcome to the living Hell I create.”

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I wonder who that song reminds me of?

 

Are you wondering how strange is it for me to return to the land of heat, toilets, and showers? I suppose it’s not as strange as me feeling guilt over it for some reason. Part of me honestly feels like I’m letting myself down. I know I could hack sleeping outside for at least until Thanksgiving. It makes sense when I have all these lawyer meetings and court dates, but those are slowing down to a trickle for a few weeks.

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I might be getting a few paying gigs where I’ll have to do my singing and dancing of informative chaos for people, though, so perhaps it might be for the best. Well not really, but at least I’m not bumming showers and having tense mornings while I tour from mini-missions to mega-missions.

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One thing remaining consist is my solitude. No children of course, other than my lovely daughter living overseas. When your let loose in the world, events often force you into social interaction if you are lucky enough to have good friends. (Read, “Can I take a shower, dude?”) However, when I have my four enclosed walls I have to force myself to go out and interact. But don’t worry too much… I do. It’s just weird to have more choices again. That and being able to stay up past 7pm.

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It comes down to this. I enjoy putting my words into action and a really, really enjoy not being a part of this system of bullshit. Okay, I know I’m still part of the system, but I like it to be as minimal as possible. I dare you to measure my carbon print.

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This election makes it easy to be an anarchist. Being exposed to the pure insanity of how unfair our legal system is, makes me want to run into the woods screaming. It’s tough to be right all the time, but it’s easy to forget how unfair the world is when your fridge has a few days of food in it and you are watching a movie while drinking a cold one. Yet, step out of line and you become a method of production for the system to leech off.

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No new taxes, unless you count creating huge fines needing to be paid for non-crimes and uninstantiated lies.

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I may be getting dragged back in, I might end up with a few new bear traps on my nethers, but let me say here and now, I’m feeling done with the chaos explosion of humanity and the rules it feels obligated to create to keep the clogs in line. You might see me, hear me, cuz I love my people, but I need my TAZ. (Temporary Autonomous Zones)

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Oh crap, TAZ. I forgot about TAZ. I might have to toss up another post. Sorry, but I have a duty, an obligation, or perhaps just an unrelenting desire to spew. If the bullshit isn’t done, then neither am I and since it will never be done…

 

Neither will I

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I’ll bet I’ll remain a very hard man to track down.

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Grab some Skinjumper-Punk here and help support your friendly WildernessPunker

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