ratboy's anvil

Ides of October

I headed outside this morning intending to do some more salvage and slogging and was unexpectedly and rudely pelted in the head by big fat angry and super cold biker raindrops.

"Screw you!" was the collective thought I imported from the sky of the sky and was excited to readily make it my own daily curmudgeon affirmation, but by time I had arrived at the forth squishy step on the astroturfed stairway, he who was ascending in a manner generally overwhelming banal, had seamlessly pivoted and addressed the invisible entourage which he has trained to follow one step behind everywere he goes, especially those places which might require him to instruct by way of spontaneous oration.

To this pycho fancy bleated he, "Fuck the rain!"

He also said this out loud on the stairway, "Fuck the reservoirs replenishments and the 'bot children of the adult mallbreeder set sustained thereby.

He would gladly watch this pacific emerald of a city wither brown if it would spare him these face-seeking liquid missiles bringing awkward pain and such insult of to the idea of a fair and just world.

I thought...yesterday was likely the right time for me to tithe at the Altar of Life Portion Spent Freezing in the Rain...but no. No, it would seem even extremely earnest supplications would not assuage this quasi-prayer to heaven sent.

Its only about 9 am anyway at write time, so there's a constructed hiatus to let the rain stop and still get in a decent day. Even if you dress for the rain on a day like today the mood of it will seep into your brain and extinguish any fire that might help to inspire another breath to be taken.

That day failed as well as the rain continued its constant drumming on all that echoes and amplified its message of pointless and empty doom. It rained it howled, it changed angle of attack and saturated everything until no more could possibly be absorbed, boots sucked by the mud came off feet, cars on roadways underwater pushed by deluges out of nowhere off of the road. I couldn't even get home because the roads were flooded and the police, grim in their yellow suits and swinging their flashlights, blocked access to any road that traveled below a certain height because this was the record setting amount of rainfall besting even the Jwhwy Noah collaboration o f some years ago.

How soaked was he?I was so soaked as I slogged yesterday that it was actually difficult to walk and carry my clothes, my outer coat weighd 72 lbs I discover later that night. 72 lbs! There better not be a God!

Today it as the same as the day before only without the novelty to offset the huge difficulties the rains were creating and because we were moving quite large and extremly heavy pieces of abandoned iron and iron and steel sections of old saw mill machines, the novelty gave way to fear of imminent death by jagged edge or crushed midsection.

Tomorrow is yet a mystery as I have not been home long enough yet to appeal to the sacrificial entrails about the future intent of this liquid demon. I will do exactly that however because in an hour or two I will be headed off into the darkness to skulk the ruins of this or that building slated for destruction ripping treasures from its entrails and nervous sytem. It will be an all night interview with that which I have come to abhor and slander generously.