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Do you ever wonder why so many Appalachian families have old appliances and cars and pvc piping laying around their yards? Me too. Unfortunately I can't explain that here. It's not that I don't KNOW, just that there's not enough space here to truly address the subtle nuances of this peculiar artform. One of my coworkers just today was comenting on the absurd amount of "crap" Mariettians have in or around their domiciles. (Mariettians are people who reside in or near Marietta, OH, a small city of 15,000 or so on the shores of the Ohio river, nestled in the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains, the first settlement in the Northwest Territory... etc etc) Come to think of it, I live and work in squalor. Flying Mantra HQ is surrounded by a large cesspool. Well, OK, thats only half true, but when it rains, things can get quite messy. The other day our landlord paid the diligent simpleton fix-it man from next door to wack our weeds. WEEDS? There were no "weeds" in my cesspool! Native local fauna doesn't bother me, what gets me is the junk, crap and shit I have to deal with now that my "weeds" are gone. The true garbage is now visible. Where it was once covered by said vegetation, it is now naked to the bitter unforgiving rays of our cancerous sun, the relentless pounding of the coal-soaked appalachian acid rain, and MY eyes... I don't think I'm being unreasonable here... Take your pick: wild rhubarb or rusty tin can, blackberry bush or that womens sanitary device that Pete swears once resembled a tampon even though McCall is certain it was a maxipad of some sort, that one plant that would have most certainly started flowering next week or the cigarette buts and those plastic bottles... your pick. Ultimately
I guess it's all junk though cuz you can't take it with you. That's a
little narcicistic though. Some people might argue that any material wealth
is of value because they can pass it on to their heirs... that stinks
of nepitism though, which is supposedly genetic somehow... Unless there
is a full and final devine truth, a golden and specific rule, the shit
on the platter with a big fucking bag of chips... treasure or trash will
always be in the eye of the beholder. Want to submit an essay? email us. |