"The Moon is My Headlamp"

As I left Courtney's this evening I walked home in the moon's spotlight. Tonight's moon is certainly not shy -- all up in our faces. Tomorrow before midnight pacific time it will be full, and this March full moon is what the Native American Delaware tribe called "Moon when Juice Drips from the Trees." Less poetically I dubbed it my "headlamp." Amazingly I just found the sentence in the book I finished last week which reminds me of my pathetic comparison: "Poor modern man, amazed by the wonders of nature, can only describe these by comparing them with the monsters of our mechanical age!" (Thanks, Felice Benuzzi.) Yep, it seems difficult to describe a powerfully moving natural image/event without somehow reducing it and comparing it to a feeble bastardized attempt at its replication from the opposable thumbs of a monkey-mind. Headlamp? Sheesh. What an insult. All headlamps will be but ashes while this full moon is still juicing the trees and everything else under its beams.

And while we're on the subject of cultured stupidity, I have two words: daylight savings. This is just to mess people up. Maybe I'm missing something but I do not see the relevance for the times we're currently living in. As some unknown Native American is credited as saying in regards to daylight savings "Only a white man would believe you could make a blanket longer by cutting off the top and sewing it onto the bottom." And, as the story goes, his wife then added "For real, suckaz."