#text drive

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Somehow Germane

TRELANE: I don't know if I like your tone. It's most challenging. That's what you're doing, challenging me?  SPOCK: I object to you. I object to intellect without discipline. I object to power without constructive purpose.  --Star Trek, "The Squire of Gothos" Feel free to add photos, draw conclusions.

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Docentville

Not standard for hereabouts. Reading. Of my text below,  give or take.

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Docentville

I’m from where you might call Docentville. There are docents here for everything.

There’s a weed docent. A rust docent. So I’ve heard. After a rain, a puddle docent. Not so far uphill or down, a stream docent.

Not sure if any or some or none or all are paid. Or by whom or what agency.

I myself am not a docent. Though I’ve seen some. Or people who could be docents.

Not sure if there really are any docents.

I have seen the occasional small group following someone around as that person talks and points. Such a person could be a docent. No particular age or gender or class or particular look or outfit or obvious other occupation predominates amongst such people.  

There’s no telling who’s telling.

I have heard stories. Many stories. And again no particular thing denotes a docent other than the appearance of a group of however many or few and a person leading said group while speaking and pointing.

If stories are true there are many docents. A rot docent. A decay docent. A fresh paint docent. A nail docent. A plywood docent. An iron work docent (I think mentioned the rust docent.)

There are animal docents. A dog docent. A cat docent. A horse docent. Maybe a livestock or strictly a cow docent. A vet docent.

Many of these stories are tales of hazy inference. Those who avail themselves of docents come from out of town. Not even the Chamber of Commerce is sure (or forthcoming) about how any of these visitors know how to find the docents. It is rumored they simply come and walk around and happen onto one. Or several. Also rumored that docents loop around in unbroken vigils for those who find them to find those items — or, whatever the docents find.

I haven’t generally so far heard of such docents anywhere else. A young couple who later married and later still divorced used to cover a street as a cat safari. There were no gun bearers, no jeeps, no hunting—they just spotted cats in the windows of houses on that street. But they’re not together now, this was in some other town that acted like a city (that was next to a city that acted like a town—go figure). I don’t know of either such person ever living here in this town, as docents or under any circumstances.

The docents seem cooperative enough with one another. Where there are splits of interest, there is no schism. An ordinary walker docent will get along fine with a docent for those fancy walkers with a built-in carry space and resting seat. Both will do well alongside a docent for those walkers that are ordinary except for a tennis ball impaled on each front leg.

No fuss amongst them.

As said, inference goes a long ways here. A person always tubing in the river will be thought to be some sort of waterfowl docent. Another who is always head down and snorkle up in such an inner tube is thought to be perhaps a fish docent (or maybe an associate docent of cormorants — while they dive). If there ever were one or two others joining said suspected docents, it is thought all but proven.

No one who has followed and learned from the docent has been asked or approached to share or corroborate. So far as anyone in town can say.

Beyond the docents, there is talk of docents of docents who follow the docents and tell visitors about them. Docent docents. And we townspeople fully expect there will be docents of docents of docents, soon enough.

People visiting when I tell them these things they become impatient and argue that surely some of us living in town are these docents. Or know someone who is. Or know someone who knows someone who is. And so on. But we just smile and say, sure, okay, fine, yeah, uh-huh.  Walk and take your time. You’ll find someone. You’ll see our town. And learn.

Meanwhile, there’s the tree docent. The old tree docent. The bark docent. The dog bark docent (often ear cocked). The siren docent. The bell docent. The door bell and door bell button docents. The stop light docent. The yield sign docent. Don’t believe me, ask a docent of docents.

In spring, the blossom docents show up. Some say they’re always here and walk the streets all year waiting for a smell, a color, a way the birds will sing. I don’t know. Ask a docent. Maybe one stands by the crocuses or the lilacs or forsythia or trees in bloom. Or in cold weather waits. Maybe.

Mostly I’m guessing.

Always somewhere, always hearing, smelling, touching, tasting, seeing. And pointing and talking. Come by soon. One of these docents, or in their groups that follow, might be you.

 --KR Seward

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Zed 13

Recording of text reading played back via DubFilter running on padlike gizmo routed through mda Dub Delay VST fx. Monotron through VPedalsLite/padlike gizmo. Hexaglyphics running on padlike gizmo through delay VST.

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Hurl Induction -- Not to name names/promote anyone who’s deserves no mention other than “ew, get away” but a certain elected figure is sponsoring ads (showing up hereabouts) putting forth pohling options as grate, guud or ohkahy (heavily phoneticized spelling used here to throw off algos). Not to feed the troll under any circumstance, but even the choice of “crazy excremental” would scarcely suffice. Now resuming textual radio silence . . .

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No mention of doing this via Tumblr--no clue why. Have more/farflung followers here, ergo the link. Free free to reiterate, sig boost, mutate, carry forward. Thanks.

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In short . . .

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My fellow ‘Mericans, imploring you all vote in November.  Do it.  Preferably not for an incompetent jerk with a very bad combover and an even worse attitude.  And an even worse stand on issues.  Someone else would be very much the preference.  Say maybe for the Democratic Party candidate, who’s been a US Senator and Secratary of State.  But if that choice don’t grab you, just don’t vote for a shitastic TV personality.  Just vote, dammit, vote.  Thanks.

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from the link:

I wonder if being over-productive is only a bad habit. ... Talent or the inability to do anything else. Full of questions and doubts but nonetheless going with things that seem to work. Full of doubts but doing things anyway.