my friends call me nikkos

La Fontenay

noreply@blogger.com (nikkos) — Fri, 18 Dec 2009 17:03:00 +0000

La Fontenay

Watching, neck craned, while an older boy hunts mistletoe with a BB gun-

It’s Christmastime in Louisville, Kentucky, and I am a child.

His deadeye picks off small milky white berries from the highest branches

Freeing them with little snips of spherical copper

They tumble through gray flannel air to rest gently at our feet.

Amazing to me still.

The long halls of my memory are carpeted with snow and boughs of pine.

TO BEGIN

noreply@blogger.com (nikkos) — Fri, 04 Dec 2009 15:50:00 +0000

To begin:

Wake the chile on the warm comal

Wake up!

To begin:

Wake the children to the nature of mind.

Wake up!

To begin:

It has already begun!

Wake up!

Skepticism

noreply@blogger.com (nikkos) — Wed, 02 Dec 2009 19:13:00 +0000

I remain deeply skeptical of President Obama’s plans for Afghanistan. I’m not alone- as I have long predicted, this will be an issue which cleaves his base of political support- and for good reason. The argument that putting more troops in now will allow us to get out sooner is somewhat counter-intuitive, isn’t it? One of the reasons why I and many others harbor skepticism about this plan is that an escalation of this sort rarely if ever leads to a withdrawal- it simply leads to more troops, a deeper commitment, and continuing conflict. The goalposts which at one point seem so firm and clear have a way of retreating into the horizon.

President Obama presented a somewhat selective overview of our involvement in Afghanistan, before and since the attacks of 9/11. I disagree with his portrayal of the Taliban as outsiders who “seized” control of the country. While we may not like them, the Taliban do represent a homegrown movement.

I believe President Obama is wrong when he says that unlike Vietnam, the Taliban do not represent a “broad-based popular insurgency.” They do. Their base of popular support is among the peoples of the AfPak border region and Waziristan. They are opposed to the “central government” in Kabul. This is an AfPak political problem, and Afghans must solve it.

Also like Vietnam, the war is spilling across international borders. Whereas in Vietnam we pursued the Vietcong and NVA into Laos and Cambodia (secretly and illegally) we now pursue AQ/Taliban into Pakistan. The reality is that Pakistan sees Afghanistan as offering strategic depth for the forces they may someday need to (once again) fight India; AQ/Taliban use the Waziristan/tribal regions as their strategic depth- the place where they can catch their breath, refit and rearm; and we see Afghanistan as our strategic reserve from which we can project strength and force throughout the Middle East, so as to protect our access to the petroleum upon which our modern society is predicated.

No amount of American troops- not 30,000, not 50,000, not 100,000- can make the Afghan government less corrupt and more accountable to the Afghan people. This is Afghan political problem, not a military problem. In fact, one could make the argument that the more troops we have in country, the less legitimate the Afghan government becomes in the eyes of the Afghan people, and the harder our ostensible task becomes. (And while the speech was delivered before an audience of military cadets, this obscures the fact that increasingly, our wars are being fought not by brave young soldiers but by mercenaries).

Obama said our mission is “disrupting, dismantling, and defeating al Qaeda and its extremist allies.” I fail to see why this requires a force of more than 60,000 U.S. troops. Why can’t this be accomplished with the judicious and lethal application of special operations forces and intelligence assets? Why must we conduct nation building to achieve these objectives?

Though Iraq, Afghanistan and Pakistan were discussed in depth, one country was notably absent in last night’s speech: Iran. Our Afghan “surge” is intended as much for the Iranian audience as for our allies and enemies. I can imagine voices in the National Security Council discussion saying something like, “We can’t withdraw from Afghanistan- what signal would that send to Iran?” As with Iraq, we will stay in Afghanistan so as not to lose face. To what extent do you agree with this thinking? To me it seems rooted in basic schoolyard psychology: we don’t want to “look weak,” whether or not acting tough is in our long-term best interests.

Our strategy is paradoxical in that to the American audience the message is, “this is not open-ended, we will be surging troops in but then beginning a drawdown in 18 months” while to the Afghan people and Al Qaeda/Taliban the message is: “We’re not going anywhere”. So, Mr. President, which is it? I fear the latter.

Revel

noreply@blogger.com (nikkos) — Mon, 02 Nov 2009 15:52:00 +0000

***

Revel

***

Sidewalks fresh quilted with fallen leaves

Streets embroidered slick with light

Branches woven loose scrape canvas sky

Vaporous thread pierces cumulus pillows

Blanketing the lake with a remnant of warmth-

Hints of cold drizzle stitch naked cheeks

In the air a starch chill knits our breath together.

***

Ego Death (Haiku)

noreply@blogger.com (nikkos) — Fri, 30 Oct 2009 14:30:00 +0000

***

Ego Death (Haiku)

***

From your own ego

Gain everything you can

Then smother it dead.

***

Image created by Marcus Parcus, found at A Journey Round My Skull

This Tree Is A Widow Maker

noreply@blogger.com (nikkos) — Fri, 23 Oct 2009 19:50:00 +0000

This Tree Is A Widow Maker

***

The people of the valley lie in silent mounds.

In death their repose is feline, their form pantheric

But these are not graves

Rather a campground of eternity, a view of infinite sunrise

The shushing trees have bestowed upon them the offerings

Which their descendants cannot.

This tree is a widow maker, fool killer

These leaves, stained glass dreams.

Let us fill this hollow

So our hopes do not freeze with winter.

Let us fold our disappointments into a beautiful crane

Whose graceful neck shall never bow.

Let us wrap today’s joy into a gift

That we may open again tomorrow.

West Side Chicago Snapshot

noreply@blogger.com (nikkos) — Fri, 09 Oct 2009 14:19:00 +0000

How I Remember

noreply@blogger.com (nikkos) — Mon, 28 Sep 2009 17:48:00 +0000

How I Remember

This is how I will remember you:

Sitting on the roof of your island cottage

Drink in hand, a story on your smiling lips, mischief in your twinkling eyes.

While the women were away on some important business in town,

We sat on the roof and listened to Pink Floyd.

You told me a tale of reckless and beautiful youth

You told me of college, of parties, of listening to “Dark Side” complete

With darkened room lit-cigarette drum pantomime accompaniment

I didn’t understand anything at all but I laughed and nodded as though I understood all too well

Your shrug told me that someday, I might, if I was lucky.

Your smirk said you knew I was bullshitting, but that was all right too,

That I was all right.

Even then I knew you were a part of me and

Yes, that truth was a little scary to contemplate.

Smoke curled from your cigarette into the night, ice cubes clinked together saying, “all empty.”

This is how I will remember you:

Not for the often bad or the sometime good

But by refusing to pretend that you were anything but exactly

What you were.

"Headin' To Chicago"

noreply@blogger.com (nikkos) — Mon, 28 Sep 2009 13:21:00 +0000

"Headin' To Chicago" from Nick Fryer on Vimeo.

myfriendscallmenikkos Proudly Presents...Field Recordings Vol. 1: Music & Sounds of Oaxaca, Mexico!

noreply@blogger.com (nikkos) — Wed, 26 Aug 2009 16:00:00 +0000

It is with great pride that I present to you my inaugural attempt at producing a "field recording." This set features a sampling of the many styles of music we encountered on our recent trip to Oaxaca, Mexico: everything from raucous street parade brass bands fueled by oompah bass and rumbling tubas, to performers in the zocalo playing rustic, buzzy marimbas, to large ensembles of high school kids as well as solo street performers...and the soothing sounds of the crashing surf at Mazunte for good measure.

I won't pretend to be an expert in musica Oaxaquena- all I know is that the music was great and I want to share it with you (and don't even get me started on the food....ay, mole!). I regret that I was not able to get the names of the tunes or the musicians- a humbling reminder that I have plenty to learn as a budding field recordologist :) . I hope they would be pleased to find their music reaching new audiences (and it's not as though I'm making money off this recording) so I have forgiven myself of the oversight. I blame it on the mezcal. :)

For now, I can simply say "MUCHAS GRACIAS!" to the wonderful, beautiful and warm people of Oaxaca. And to you, dear reader, as always: thanks for listening.

Field Recordings Volume 1: Music & Sounds of Oaxaca, Mexico

Oaxaca Welcome Parade
Zocalo Marimba
Cantina Band
Charango & Pan Pipe Player
Pan Pipe & Percussion Band
High School Zocalo Band
Wedding Parade
Mazunte Surf

Download the album in its entirety, including cover art and liner notes.

Album credits:
Cover photo by nikkos
Album artwork designed by Rowan E. Fryer
Recorded and produced by nikkos
Mixed and mastered by Stephen Shirk and nikkos at SHIRK Music & Sound, Chicago, IL

Viva Oaxaca!

Country Cousins

noreply@blogger.com (nikkos) — Tue, 25 Aug 2009 13:57:00 +0000

Many, many thanks to Adam, reader and friend of nikkos, for sending in the awesome trail cam pics of the city deer's country cousins!

Hunting White Tailed Deer With A Camera

noreply@blogger.com (nikkos) — Wed, 19 Aug 2009 17:37:00 +0000

Hunting White Tailed Deer with a Camera, Northern Michigan, 1930, by George Shiras III.

OAXACA

noreply@blogger.com (nikkos) — Wed, 19 Aug 2009 14:30:00 +0000

COMING SOON!

For now, a poem:

OAXACA

Oaxaca-

You cling to the great mother hip of the mountain

You are the child held high to receive the blessings of the Sun

You are time and its passage

You are copal curling towards the gilded ceiling

You are perfume of wood smoke and diesel, Oaxaca,

Your mezcal bears my mother’s name.

NOMADS

noreply@blogger.com (nikkos) — Fri, 14 Aug 2009 16:00:00 +0000

NOMADS

We are Nomads

We meet but once a year

On hallowed ground

In sacred time

And yet

In all our wanderings

Through life’s balance

We are never alone.

We transit the Sun without resting

We feel its pull

But we will never reach it.

We live in its warmth

And yet, we will never touch it.

It sustains us

As friends sustain one another:

With love which can cross any distance.

America's Health Care Debate

noreply@blogger.com (nikkos) — Wed, 12 Aug 2009 14:04:00 +0000

The story.

Pride

noreply@blogger.com (nikkos) — Mon, 10 Aug 2009 20:20:00 +0000

Pride

You know nothing of pride
Dear friends
Until you can understand
The love a woman and a man
Can muster
For their sole
Red ripe tomato.

Bounded

noreply@blogger.com (nikkos) — Fri, 31 Jul 2009 13:00:00 +0000

Bounded

I saw the city deer again today.

As I was driving back from lunch.

A trio at the side of the road

One was about to cross

Right in front of me

I leaned on my horn

(A rude reply to such a lovely sight, I know)

I noticed that one was

Cut off from his two friends

By the intrusion of

A chain link fence.

Their distress was real, palpable and terrifying

I felt it in my hands, in the wheel:

Innocence, confusion, panic

So clearly written across the furrowed brow and

In fear-lit eyes.

Please don’t cross in front of me, I beg you.

And thankfully, the deer did not.

Whipping a graceful head around

Turned, bounded away

Seeking the end of the fence

And the embrace of friends.

Works In Progress: "Song To The Morning" and Heading To Chicago"

noreply@blogger.com (nikkos) — Thu, 30 Jul 2009 13:13:00 +0000

"Song To The Morning"

I posted this to Facebook a coupla weeks back but totally forgot to post it here (yet more evidence that FB is taking over...my brain)...so here it is, for posterity.

...and I enjoyed doing and posting the "work in progress" so much that I asked Bobby Love to come over last night and help me do another. This one is called "Heading To Chicago." Enjoy! (Yeah, I blew the ending but that's why it's a "WIP!")

Street Art Of Oaxaca

noreply@blogger.com (nikkos) — Tue, 28 Jul 2009 14:39:00 +0000

Now I Know

noreply@blogger.com (nikkos) — Mon, 27 Jul 2009 15:05:00 +0000

I don’t care what they say.

Now I know:

Tequila is a hallucinogen.

When the vegetable spirit

Enters the animal

Look out.

Even Death Has Its Hassles

noreply@blogger.com (nikkos) — Wed, 22 Jul 2009 14:11:00 +0000

Even Death Has Its Hassles

Chicago is the place of the wild onion.

Houston was named for a man that ran away from America and became a Cherokee. (The first to wear their beads on the Senate floor, they say.)

Oaxaca is the nose of the squash, or the place of guje trees. Depending on whom you ask.

Monte Alban is the white mountain, an albino mountain I suppose.

Pochutla, the place of the ceiba tree.

Zipolite, the bumpy place, the place of the dead. (Reminding us that even death is not without its hassles.)

Mazunte prays, please lay your eggs, wise and gentle turtles of the deep.

Waves Push Me To The Shore

noreply@blogger.com (nikkos) — Tue, 21 Jul 2009 14:01:00 +0000

I'm always inspired by travel...and our recent trip to Oaxaca and Mazunte, Mexico (and points in between) was no exception...

Waves Push Me To The Shore

Wave upon wave
The waters contend
With themselves
Endlessly painting the boundary between
Land and sea.
In the roar of time passing
The sudden rush of silence
Sings louder than the crashing of the surf.
Waves push me to the shore.
Undertow pulls me to sea.
Ocean, I hope you never make up your turquoise mind.
I pray you never give up your secrets.

Of All The Wonderful Things

noreply@blogger.com (nikkos) — Tue, 21 Jul 2009 14:00:00 +0000

Of All The Wonderful Things

Of all the wonderful things

One experiences when visiting another country

I find the “language barrier” to be the

Most rewarding.

Native speakers

Typically share a cultural history as well

As a language.

This means that a typical conversation

Is riddled with obscure references: cultural, historic, geographical

Which an outsider is

Completely unequipped to detect

Interpret

Or understand.

To effectively communicate in a language other than one’s own, then

Is to be required to strip

Language and meaning to bare

Literal essence.

No hip, pop cultural references, no slang, no shared history, no shortcuts:

You know nothing of the person with whom you are speaking, and they nothing of you

Only what you manage to communicate.

One must actually work at it

And in doing so

Reaps their reward.

I Want To Go Back

noreply@blogger.com (nikkos) — Tue, 07 Jul 2009 15:31:00 +0000

I Want To Go Back

I want to go back

To that trickling stream

And my resting place beside it.

I want to go back

To that summer day

And see what I saw then, and feel too

What I then felt.

I remember.

Just me and the insect drone

The world submerged in hum

Consciousness perceiving itself

Ripples reach out to encircle my thoughts

Not to ensnare, but to nurture

To caress, to nourish and

To return a cool stillness.

Even now, I can feel myself slipping, disappearing

Deliciously into thought, yes

My kind of abandon.

Spirit draws up and out

Away from earthbound body, no regrets.

Simply letting go.

Only in a world in which so many

Spend so much and

Bend their thoughts so keenly

Towards possessing all

Can thoughts of abandon hold even the slightest

Negative connotation.

True Courage

noreply@blogger.com (nikkos) — Thu, 04 Jun 2009 20:33:00 +0000