An American Tale

In the beginning was the West. And it was ruthless and was all about some vigilante justice. Now a trio had come to this 'ole town right outside El Paso back in the day, it was like 18-hundred-n'somethin' years ago. So anyway, this fella' Jesus walks in with his posse, Joseph Smith and the Champion Verger.

So this Jesus is all decked out in cowboy gear; he's got the hat, the holsters, and the piece of hay danglin' from his grizzled jaw -- his eyes shaded by the brim of his dusted hat. He rolls from town to town, orderin' drinks at the bars, just a boozin', and man was he a lady killer! Why he'd tip up his hat and shoot a woman a glance and if she didn't drop what she was doin' and come to wait on him hand and foot.

Now old Joseph Smith, José we call'd him , he was a son-of-a-gun, known for rappin' a man or two upside the head with these stones he curried in his pockets. Better yet he was quickly identified by his stovepipe hat, which gave him an air of sophistication, but rumor of his mean streak made his manner that much more frightening, like one of them dogs that looks civilized cuz of it's collar but might turn on ya' any minute.

On Jesus' left hand was the Champion Verger. Why that sucker carried a big mace atop his shoulder everywhere he went, justa' shakin' that thing like a rattler on a hot summer day, claimin' he was makin' a path for the cowboy called Jesus everywhere they went. Sometimes he'd just swing it round and round with a sinister smile -- you could tell he was always just wantin' somebody to fight 'im. But man oh man was he an ugly sum-b! I mean he look like somethin' the dog been keepin' under the porch.

Anyway...so these three men came rollin' through the Wild West back in like 632 AD and cleaned up the whole lot of them varmints. Afterwards, the people cheered and loved 'em for it. Then the people wanted them to lead so hell if they didn't go write the American Constitution right after. Well, Jesus and Champion Verger did, old José became known as "Blister" -- damned if that boy didn't always show up till after the work was done. And he always had him a mouthful of whale fat, and that shit got thicker and thicker the more he chewed on it. He startin' talkin' a whole mess about goin' on more adventures but them other boys knew they was'a gettin' too old for adventure. Anyways. So they finish up the constitution and make three branches in honor of them three boys and three parts to the flag, and daggum if we don't all still celebrate that there trio every 4th of July and 25th of December, which are times when Jesus and posse took America from them rebel rousers and hippies, respeck'tivly, of course.

But I'll be damned if as much as I laugh and enjoy at talkin' in my native tongue and pokin' a little fun at my own heritage, if it don't still end on a bad note. And I'd be lyin' like a no legged dog if I said there was somethin' I could do to appease it all. It don't matter what I do cuz it's all about as useful as a front pocket on a shirt. I can write and get to shootin' shit with friends and it don't do no good. I still feel like I been ate by a billy goat and shift off a cliff. I can sit here by my lonesome or be busier than a long-tailed cat in a room of rockin' chairs but when that neon moon pours that sand over my eyes, hell if I don't wake up with the same dreams.

How to Pack a Bag Properly

One can pack a bag in any way they so wish. They can pack it into something else or something into it, whatever they might understand to pack a bag to mean. I use it to be the latter, but even then one can pack it anyway they so choose. They can stuff it with tangerines and sheet music for all I care. But there is a way to properly pack it based on intent.

I dared to begin packing the night before. How punctual of me. To pack the night before you began to pack you must first set about analyzing your intentions and the ends of what it is you wish to pack. Once one does this it becomes quite easy to "pack the night before." Now, the average man packs all out of nonsense, just look here:

I intend on working. I should pack shorts and shirts and shoes and so on. Work requires protection of the body in case of accident. I want to avoid the possibility of getting hurt while working, so I take something that will lower the probability of it (e.g. close-toed shoes, a hard hat, long pants, etcetera).

The accident is an accidental quality. He begins saying his intent is work, but ends with intent to prevent accidents. Then he says he wishes to avoid the possibility of being hurt but ends by acting to reduce probability. No, no, no, this just won't do at all. We must say what we mean or shut up. Nothing can be done for such a man, for he speaks in jibberish, nothing more than a series of unconnected assertions. Now! --if he had said:

I intend on working. I should pack forearms and fists and tools and laborers and &c. in this bag. There is a possibility of getting hurt but one cannot avoid possibility, unless of course I bring some tool to make the possible impossible. If I cannot find my tool for this (it has been missing for some time) then I should put a damper on probability's relationship with possibility. Those two are inseparable (and have been for some time), but at least one might prevent probability from taking possibility out for a stroll in the park (at least for some time).

If a man had told me this I would much better understand him, applaud him for such excellent and consistent packing, compliment him on his ability to express his intent, and be slightly amused. Of course I can only know this is what "he" was trying to say because I am the man, and I know my intent. For others I'm stuck at the jibberish stage and can do nothing more for them but to look curious and smile from time to time as they talk.

Unpacking is an entirely different issue. But if one wishes to unpack like Mary Poppins, one would need only to cultivate probability and possibility's relationship, rather than wreck it.

This ends How to Pack a Bag Properly