Saturday, March 14, 2009

What Goes On Underground Stays Underground

There are mysteries underground that are best left unexplored. Every evil things goes on below the surface. Worms, grubs, bulbs, hell. I've noted the psychic parallels, that what you think is best not examined too closely, lest you find that you're a pervert. The way I picture the human mind is a lot like a Halloween haunted house, but none of it's pretend. The cobwebs, mental ectoplasm, and drippings are real. There's a mill wheel splashing through our brain fluids attached to a stone that grinds our thoughts down from larger kernels so that we can fit them through our ego and seconds later spit them out as words.

Underground, it's cavernous. You can crawl or walk vast distances and get lost. I serious believe there are statues down there in nooks, meant for us to see, but they frequently disappear. In places you can dig and dig, but beware, turn your back for a second and your backhoe will also vanish, perhaps never to reappear, perhaps to reappear somewhere else on the planet. And you with it!

We found some soft ground at the south side, backhoed it out, got the wooden scaffolding in place underground, installed the firing mechanism, the spewing mechanism, the giant steel balls, the water supply piping, the central tube, the rack for extra fireplace bellows, and after all that I was ready for a good night's sleep. It's amazing, you know, what you can do in a day. Usually nothing. I sit and watch TV, read the internet, take a nap, watch some more TV, eat, and that's it; I'm a vegetable. 24 hours speeds by like a wink. But then, you put your mind to it, you can accomplish anything. If faith can move mountains just imagine what it can do with geysers. It's no big deal.

Of course the local paper ignored the whole thing. Being ever the optimist, I figured they'd have a headline something like, "Local Man Transplants Old Faithful From Yellowstone To His Back Yard," but they must not have gotten my email. It's their loss! Since it seems like something that would sell newspapers. But one day I will get my due! Every devil does, right?

Cousin Roto stayed underground with the geyser last night.

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