Just found this huge stash of notes hidden where I’d never find them: in my fartsmone’s “notes” app. I don’t remember writing them. Glad they didn’t get lost!
It’s time for GENTRI-FI!
Bell’s Palo Alto – Bound Together SF – Pt Reyes Station Books – Monkeywrench Austin – Wooden Shoe Philadelphia – Bluestockings NYC
Time to visit www.exitosngnosis.com and pre-order your Byebye and Shlort, recipient of a 4.5/5 score from IndieReader! It’s much cheaper before May! Or be smart and tell your library to get it for you!
Review here: https://indiereader.com/2019/03/byebye-and-shlort/
The Guadalupe River swelled up to 7 feet, just shy of flood stage, on Thursday the 14th. There was an advisory either that night or the night before that the river would reach its flood stage of 8 feet but I don’t think the water made it that high.
Not nearly as cool as snow reaching the full length of the Santa Isabel foothills on the fifth (Karl Mondon of the BANG took some cool pictures that suggest the full extent), but unlike all yall reading this I don’t have a drone nor the unlimited free time to film that rare event, so the high river will have to do.
The angle above, taken from the western, high-ground arm of the bike trail, should be useful for comparison on low-water days. The eastern, low-ground arm of the trail is submerged about a meter or so here. The arrogant ecocidal piers of highways 280 and 87 stand on concrete feet right in the river from here until San Fernando Street.
Both flood channels are fully engaged as water tops their concrete curbs above and below.
Down the way a few blocks, Willow Glen Manor still exists, for now. Yes, it’s that bad. The clearance is less than 4 meters now. The bridge I’m standing on will be gone soon too, as it’s not only leaning to the west (drive over it and bounce down that 2-inch gap) but it’s so undermined by homeless campers’ hand-dug terracing that one day the river is going to turn it like a spigot handle. But don’t listen to me, see South Bay Clean Creeks Coalition for more on that.
The warning that came over cellphones etc. warned that Willow Glen would flood, but no such luck. The term flood would have been interpreted with exaggeration in the case of that district anyhow. We’ll have to wait yet for the Old-Testament destruction of that haven of narcissism and girlfriend-experiences.
Here’s some sewers running at overflow down over the bike path onto Willow, where it made a significant eddy just above a storm drain that goes to the river. It hadn’t rained all day, so I think this is coming up from the local storm sewers and not down from the freeway.
This late in December, finally the avocado tree at our building is ready to glean. There’s a whole lot of fruit on it. Today my neighbor invited me to borrow his gancho and I took just this much, trying to take from the highest reaches so he could get the easier stuff. As you can see in the photo at left, some even matured on the tree.
After a mellow but bastard-long summer, and what looks to be another bleak winter, my faith in San José is restored when a distant good winter gives us this many avocados. My landlord is barely aware of the tree and will get nothing from it as he grasps after the paperwork simulacrum of his genocidal private property, where we can now choose to feed ourselves on it or give it away to those who need it more than we do. I sure as shit won’t be letting any millennials make toast out of them!
There’s got to be like $1000 in market-value fruit on it if we could safely get at all of it. No narco conflict, no gasoline, no exploited labor, no dipshit agribusiness, no [further] deforestation, no sprays or chemicals of any kind, no Whole Foods, and no fucking organic certification!
Si se me acaba el dinerohh oohhhhhh … ¡les pagoohhhh con aguacate eeees!!
Finally, finally made it to the fourth floor of my beloved King Library, after a bitter monthlong absence, to be shit last in seeing San José old hand David Mejia’s exhibition Before and After Thanksgiving. It’s a painting (watercolor, right?) exercise and a modest history lesson. Mejia has been pushing his stuff for years. One of my favorites is the profane and puerile Ballman. It’s excellent that he’s getting some love at the library. Go see the paintings before November 30! I’ll let the paintings speak for themselves:
Low-res, off-center photos posted for collegiality and appreciation only. I really dig the playful but purposeful use of color and the comic book-style planning in general. It gives an emotional directness needed by the subject, just as an improvised shamanic performance would in a more advanced culture than our own.
I also like how he mentioned using fish as fertilizer in poor soils, because it reminded me of the many years of my life I spent wondering why the fuck, as it said in some school textbook of mine, they “planted fish.”
Here’s some arty stuff I managed to squeeze out of my crap phone camera. Radioactive saturated groundwater escaping from a large bus stop in Chernobyl. Doesn’t really do the setting justice but the colors are cool.
Something about having all that water going under the freeway pylons seemed to give the pylons a meaning or at least aesthetic place that they’d never had before. Might as well take a picture, especially since this kind of weather won’t come again for almost 30 more years! I miss having my real camera loaded all the time, but lo, too many hobbies get expensive.
1. Looking over the emergency underground spillway, toward southeast, from the west bank near Children’s Discovery Museum. Those huge sugarcubes of rubble on the east bank are usually covered in tents and people’s stuff but they hit it a few weeks ago.
2. As above only looking due south.
3. From the east bank looking north. The furthest visible pylon is what we see in the topmost image above. The blade of the underground spillway wall is illuminated at left in the very back.