Ahhhh, Fresh Meat and Wine...On the road again

Heaven is a Wal-mart

Petroleum pack them in like sardines
I just bought a fake plastic Hallmark smile
Cardboard sustenance stares at me
As the four by fours truck up and down the aisles
I bought a poster of Teotihuacan
Because they just built a new Wal-mart there
Now they have ruined the ruins for me

I don't remember what the sun looks like
I bought organic beef raised under neon lights
There's a McDonalds and a barbershop
And the old high school bully is the security cop

Heaven is a Wal-mart bursting at the seams
Heaven is a Wal-mart to me

Listened to censored art in the music aisle
Checkout with artificial sweet smiles
The t-shirts that I bought were made in sweat shop
I made sure to buy two so I would get one for free
They gave my young son Billybob a children's cart
To indoctrinate with a healthy corporate start
They have ruined the world that he sees

I bought a gun just so I could get some kicks
I burn synthetic wood so I don't have to burn sticks
I bought certified speed from the pharmacist
And I made sure to get the free eye test

Heaven is a Wal-mart the perfect picture of gluttony
Heaven is a Wal-mart to me

I bought an anorexic lady on a magazine cover
I bought the super-sized slim-fast TV dinner
I bought the America bless god bumper sticker
Should have read America bless Sam Walton 'cause he's bigger

Heaven is a Wal-mart bastardized american dream
Heaven is a Wal-mart to me

Attention shoppers there is a clearance on world culture in aisle six get it while it still exists

Dan Wilder, Tuesday July 31st, 2007

Hello friends, neighbors and perfect strangers. The past couple of days we have been traveling around visiting Kelly's relatives, and we have finally stopped for a week in Pentwater, Michigan. Relaxin' soakin' up the sun and such and enjoying the fine company of Kelly's siblings, grandparents and mom/Brian. We then head up to the Upper Peninsula of Michigan to do much of the same with my half of the family. Grace had her first swim in Lake Michigan this morning and seems to be having a great time even if she still looks and smells like a farmy swamp mutt. Kelly just got the full kiteboarding hook-up as a graduation present from her father so we have been asking the powers the be for wind, and to our chagrin it has yet to reveal itself. We will kiteboard before the trip is through even if I have to set up giant industrial fans on the beach.



Before we left the farm we had started to harvest the cherry tomatoes as I said in the previous post, and the bigger variteties were also starting to come into their own. Kelly and I are afraid we abandoned our employers for the trip at precisely the time they would need us the most, ahh the irony of life. We have also come to realize slowly that the whole organic process is a corporate sham. Meaning the word is meaningless these days because it has been taken over by the government and factory farming as a word used to make more money. What do I mean by this? Well here is just one such example. Our farm is one of the smallest corporate farms in the country, we do "organic" heirloom tomatoes. Yet every morning Kelly and I walk around with sprayer packs on our backs spraying fish fertilizer and fungicide onto the tomato plants. Yes fungicide, perfectly acceptible by government "organic" policy. We can also use something that kills every single bug on the plants, most people I believe would call this pesticide. Certified organic produce is a joke to any farmer that grew and sold organic produce before the government takeover because it is not organic. Using pesticide and fungicide is not organic. Why can they be used then? Because factory farms probably bribed the government when they were deciding what constituted organic produce or else organic produce wouldn't be viable for factory farming. It all boils down to money which is why Wal-mart is the biggest distributer of "organic" produce in the world, hence the above song. The other reason for the song is that many of these "organic" farmers that we have met don't seem to even enjoy the fruits of their labor and instead eat fast food and shop at Wal-mart for everything. So if you want to be progressive don't buy from "Whole Foods" (all our tomatoes are sold there) buy local from a farmer you trust.




This is what Kelly and I did right before we set off on our journey back across the country. We met Meg Campbell at Third Thursdays, Culpeper's version of Charlotteville's Fridays after five; she owns Croftburn Farm Meats. Local grassfed beef, lamb, sausages etc. So the day before we went to Frederick to see Kelly's dad and extended family I went by and bought a 10 pound sirloin and a six pound leg of lamb from her. We schmoozed for an hour as I watched the animals frolick happily around the giant ranch nestled at the foot of the mountains. Meg seemed impressed that us youngsters were taking so much responsibility for the meat we ate and she ended up giving me a free package of her homemade lamb sausage. Kelly fashioned the beef and lamb into kabobs for the meal the next day. We feasted and it was excellent, probably some of the best meat I have ever had, the lamb sausages were also amazing. I also sold Anne on the garlic we had grown to use in her Lamb sausages, it is just too bad I won't see any of that money.


Anyway Pentwater is very nice, it is sweet to be just hanging out instead of hanging, hunched over picking tomatoes and tucking plants. All I need now is a little wind under my kite so I can rip off into the pale blue yonder, catch some air, cruise back and enjoy a nice 97' Cabernet (peaking right now) with Jim and family while the sun sets on another day. Peace from Pentwater. Danny "Boy" Wilder

Josh-Wondering if you could e-mail me your parents address? Wilderclimberdude@gmail.com

Harvest Time Approaches...Perhaps a Trout Lake Wedding?

Masters of War

Come you masters of war
You that build all the guns
You that build the death planes
You that build the big bombs
You that hide behind walls
You that hide behind desks
I just want you to know
I can see through your masks

You that never done nothin'
But build to destroy
You play with my world
Like it's your little toy
You put a gun in my hand
And you hide from my eyes
And you turn and run farther
When the fast bullets fly

Like Judas of old
You lie and deceive
A world war can be won
You want me to believe
But I see through your eyes
And I see through your brain
Like I see through the water
That runs down my drain

You fasten the triggers
For the others to fire
Then you set back and watch
When the death count gets higher
You hide in your mansion
As young people's blood
Flows out of their bodies
And is buried in the mud

You've thrown the worst fear
That can ever be hurled
Fear to bring children
Into the world
For threatening my baby
Unborn and unnamed
You ain't worth the blood
That runs in your veins

How much do I know
To talk out of turn
You might say that I'm young
You might say I'm unlearned
But there's one thing I know
Though I'm younger than you
Even Jesus would never
Forgive what you do

Let me ask you one question
Is your money that good
Will it buy you forgiveness
Do you think that it could
I think you will find
When your death takes its toll
All the money you made
Will never buy back your soul

And I hope that you die
And your death'll come soon
I will follow your casket
In the pale afternoon
And I'll watch while you're lowered
Down to your deathbed
And I'll stand o'er your grave
'Til I'm sure that you're dead

Bob Dylan 1963

This song seems just as pertinent today as it was 44 years ago. I heard it on two separate occasions this week on my IPod while stringing tomato plants. One of the versions was live Bob Dylan from back in the day and the other was Pearl Jam from their album of cover songs. It has been stuck on repeat in my mind so I am including it for all ya'll readers to mull over in your heads. Ya hear that old Georgie Jr.? Jesus won't even forgive you. Maybe it's time to start hittin' the bottle again.


Anyway, on to more pressing matters. It has been a little while since I last posted mostly because I have been using all my computer time trying to sweeten up the sound on my Smashing Pumpkins bootleg. Frustrating to say the least but I finally have about a third of it in audible form. The rest shouldn't take as long, now that I have the procedure figured out.


Work on the farm has been tough and repetitive but we have finally started harvesting. I have also been disc-ing and plowing with the tractor so that is pretty cool. It seems to me that I am probably the only farmer on the block jamming Wilco inside the tractor. I am willing to bet everybody else is jamming modern country music, which churns out inert piece of shit songs such as "She Thinks My Tractor's Sexy."

The cherry tomato varieties are ready to pick; there are not enough to sell yet so Kelly and I have been pigging out. We have a bunch of different cherry varieties; some gold, some almost white and others that are almost black. The black ones are the best and they taste more like grapes than tomatoes. In fact I bet if a person didn't know what they were they would say they were grapes. I hope to buy a wine kit soon and make some tomato wine, which is suppose to be indistinguishable from grape wine. I have already bought two different books on wine making and have been reading up on the subject.


Speaking of books, at the moment I am in the process of reading this book called the The River Cottage MEAT Book by Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall. It can best be described as the meat bible, telling you everything you would ever want to know about any cut of meat from any of the main meat-providing animals. It also gives you a philosophical look at eating meat, where to buy ethical meat and so on. I recommend it to everybody, including vegetarians as they might find some of the arguments interesting. It is also half cookbook which is pretty sweet.



Now for the big news (none of this should be taken too seriously as our plans have been changing weekly, but time is running out and Kelly and I are now 99.9% sure that this is the plan). The wedding will most likely be held at Manhattan Beach Lodge on Big Trout Lake in northern Minnesota. For those of you who don't know where this is, it is where my family owns two cabins. Kelly and I figure that this spot will probably be the most fun (watersports, beach, Victor's, etc...) out of any of our ideas and since we are probably going for a casual beach theme it seems to fit. Pig Roast rehearsal dinner, Beach Boys cover band, late night Leviosa and Friends jam at Vic's? Who knows, the possibilities are endless, so stay tuned for details. Peace, Danny Wilder Culpeper, VA


Josh- The Pumpkins played music from all their albums with a lot coming from Gish and Siamese Dream. Yes, we made it to Vic's and yes I hope I can see it when it is Rockin' and Rollin'. Judging from the last paragraph of my blog I think I will see that day. Also thanks for the Manhattan Beach idea, it should prove to be a blast.

A Smash of a 4th of July Bash

Ahoy, ahoy...As one of my best friends used to say. I must say this past week or so was quite an adventure; wine, fireworks, and a pale, bald, guitar virtuoso that rocked harder than I have ever seen him rock before. Let us start with two fridays ago.
Kelly and I went to Charlottesville to see her little bro and sis and also caught some ass-kicking music. I have recently decided that Charlottesville is everything that Boulder could be and should be but isn't. It has a walking mall, like Boulder but with way more culture. It has music just like Boulder, but there is way more of it. It has attitude like Boulder, sans yuppies plus, dare I say, diversity. Let us tackle just one of these subjects: music. At one end of the walking mall the city has erected a giant open air pavillion, think Red Rocks just a tad smaller. Every friday after five there are free concerts that last into the evening. Then on Saturdays there are concerts you can pay for like Bob Weir and Ratdog or Umphrey's McGee. We caught a Friday show with the little kids. Such a pavillion in Boulder would just herald noise complaints and fines (See Dave Matthews Band concert at Folsom Field Circa 2001). It is not that the yuppies don't exist in this city, they do. It is just that everybody seems to coexist, as I witnessed at the show when a cracked out, drunken, homeless hippie danced around completly out of control amidst the hoards of yuppies dressed in their finest Gucci apparel (Boulder still has better mountains). It was a grand old time.


The first band was awesome, though we only caught the end of the show. They were called Man Mountain Jr. and sounded like a cross between Hendrix and Fishbone. The headliner was an Afro-beat band from Richmond and the place turned into a giant dance party. Hippies, yuppies, kids, grandmas, grandpas, nerds, frat boy, dogs and cats all gettin' down to the groove in the Charlottesville heat.


For the 4th of July we headed up to Frederick, MD to take part in the festivities at Kelly's Grandparents' house. We met Kelly's Dad in the park beforehand to do a little slacklining next to the creek where the town festival was. Jim and Yvonne's house was only a block away so afterwards we headed on over. The afternoon was spent schmoozing with the hoards of people that had come to celebrate our independance. There was plenty of wine to go around and by the end of the evening everyone was more than a little toasted. Good thing we didn't have to go anywhere to see the fireworks as they were completly visible in the backyard. Thank you Jim and Yvonne for a wonderful evening.



The next morning found Kelly, CJ and I on the road to Asheville, North Carolina to see one of my absolute all time favorite bands, The Smashing Pumpkins. The drive was about 7 hours from Frederick but we were all so amped that it didn't really matter. We arrived in Asheville a couple hours before the show, so to kill time we got a sushi dinner. After we headed to the club. This wasn't just any Smashing Pumpkins show. This was the last night of a nine night run at the same club herealding their return after a seven year hiatus. We arrived and found that the club was even smaller than I expected, smaller than 1st Ave, smaller than The Fox. We sold our extra ticket for 100 bucks at the door, we paid 20 and I heard they were going for 1,000 on e-bay. We entered and waited for the show to start. We were blown away, Corgan opened the show with a three song solo acoustic set, one of the songs had been written that morning. Then the rest of the band came on and it was only hard rock/metal from that point forward, a 3 hour fist in the air head-banging rock fest. It was loud, and it ranks as one of the best shows I have ever seen. Having seen them two other times, this was by far the most rocking. Billy is having fun again, Jimmy is more solid on drums now than he ever was, Jeff the new guitar player rocks just as hard if not harder than I ever saw James play and the new bassist is a really hot chick(she is also good at bass). And best of all the new material sounds like Gish era Pumpkins. The Pumpkins are Smashingly good and they just announced a full-blown nationwide tour(Matt I believe they are playing Saint Paul, and Boulderites they are going to be Red Rocking).


CJ had never seen them before and was doubtful upon entering the show. Afterwards he said he had been converted and that it was probably the best show he had ever seen. Better than anything he saw at Bonaroo, for sure. Kelly liked it but wished they had played more of their softer stuff. Did I mention that I recorded the whole show on my hi-def Canon GL-2 camera, the sound is a little crunchy at times just because it was sooooooo loud, but I am trying to clean it up. The above still is taken from that recording. We drove back immediatly after the show because CJ had summer school the next day. We remained exhausted for two days afterwards, but somtimes you have to make sacrifices for Rock'n Roll. Delicious Custard Indeed, Peace. Danny Wilder Culpeper, VA

American Gothic, Sans Pitchfork + Rotting Watermelon

Upon arriving at the farm a little over two weeks ago we were introduced to our humble travel trailer and its sole farm-surviving tenant, Chris. He was 20 years old, stood about 5'9", skinny with black hair. We found out he was a vegan and immediatly asked why. He replied, "I don't know." This seemed a little strange as usually vegies and vegans are fairly militant about their reasons; Kelly and I loked at each other and shrugged it off as shyness Chris was a nice enough fella, spending most of his time sitting in front of his Mac playing video games, only leaving the trailor to work.

He barely ever said a word. When he did it was always awkward. It was as if he couldn't communicate on a human level. Usually his words were in response to a question. Juliana asking if he would like to come to the bars with us, for example, elicited this response, "People are overated, but thank you." An insult and a thank you in the same sentence, strange. For being a vegan he had the worst diet I have ever seen. He sustained himself on white rice, beans, Doritos (not even sure those are vegan), and Veganaise. And he complained he was feeling sick almost every other day, hmmm could it be a lack of vital nutrients Chris?

Then there were the weird noises he would emit every now and then in response to everyday events. They can best be described as a half scream-wail, something like that of a banshee. One such instance involved him making falafels, the only real cooking I ever witnessed from him. He was frying them in a skillet with olive oil that was smoking, turned up a tad too high. He would throw one in and the resulting grease splatter would burn him all over. He would emit his high pitched wail-moan and dance around like a twit for a couple minutes, at which point he would take the falafel out and repeat the whole process including the song and dance. Kelly and I watched in shocked silence from ten feet away. He repeated said process about twenty times. Kelly finally walked over and told him the oil was too hot, he gave her a blank stare.

The culmination of his dramatic madness took place when we finally got him out of the trailer and into town to do a little shopping. There were thunderstorms that day and Kelly and I thought it would be a good idea to make Mojitos as we couldn't work and would be stuck inside all day. We told Chris we were going and, surprise, surprise, he decided to come with us. With our errands almost done, all we needed was club soda and Bacardi, we saw a liquor store with a grocery store right next to it. I went into the liquor store to get our supplies while Kelly and Chris headed to the grocery store. (Speaking of the grocery store it was called Aldi and turned out to be a food stamp grocery store, avoid at all costs, now back to the story). I came back with the booze and as I approached the car I saw Chris coming from the grocery store with two shopping bags and carrying a watermelon that looked like it was covered in soap.

On the drive home Chris started talking. "I love it when grocery stores don't have trash compactors"...confusion from the front seat..."You can find so much perfectly good food in the dumpster, I lived off of dumpstering for a full year when I dropped out of high school and hitchhiked around the country." Stunned silence from the front seat for the rest of the drive home, the dumpstered watermelon continued to ooze the soapy substance, clutched tightly in Chris's hands in the backseat. And yes he ate a handful of it while I watched in terrified awe, before deciding to throw it away because it "might" be rotton. (Everything else he got was also from the dumpster.)

Alas, Chris decided to quit earlier this week and now Kelly and I have the trailer to ourselves. Bon voyage my dumpstering friend, I hope you find what you seek.



Work on the farm has been hard. Lately we have been stringing tomatoes and pulling garlic. Our newest job is to find and execute the mighty tomato hornworm caterpillar. They have been destroying the tomato plants. The only upside is that they make a satisfying crunch underfoot. It has been deathly hot out. Lucky for us there is a great swimming pond on the property, 30 feet deep with a weedless clay bottom. It has also served as our shower, even though we have one in the trailer.

We have been working hard but we have also been playing hard. Last Thursday we went to the city of Culpeper's monthly festival with a kick ass little bluegrass band by the name of Seldom Scene. I proceeded to get a little too tipsy at the Irish pub afterwords losing track of Kelly and getting a ride home with a dude I met at the bar. Next week is the fourth of July and on the 5th Kelly, Brittney and I are driving down to Asheville, NC to see the Smashing Pumpkins at a 900 person club. They are letting people bring in as much audio and video recording equipment as they would like so hopefully I will have some good shots of Billy and Co. rocking the begeezus out of us. Until then may there be peace, love and ROCK for everybody. Dan Wilder - Culpeper, VA



P.S. It is good to see more people responding to my blog, if you are reading it please subscribe and post to me in responses, my cell phone sucks out here so it is a good way to communicate.

David, Josh, Sam, AM and Co.- "Casa Bonita, Casa Bonita." It is a great regret that I never made it there. Pulp Fiction is one of the best and it must have been great to watch The Wolf fix things amidst the rocks. It is great to hear from you guys and I am glad that you didn't drown Dave. Be careful. I miss you all so much and can't wait until we meet again, for now we will just keep it virtual. Peace.

Jim, Catherine, Josh and the rest of the Reuter clan- Thanks for reading, it means a lot. I can't wait to hear about Danny's China children's show, maybe it could be our big break. We might be holding Reuter/Wilder Hollywood soirees in no time. And yes Jim maybe I am too hard on religious people but when there are congressmen on record supporting the execution of every atheist when the Christian Reich, err I mean Right takes over it is hard not to be (see Richard Dawkins' The God Delusion). I love you guys and keep the comments coming.

Tomatoes and Garlic Everywhere, and yet I Dream of Wind

It has been awhile, the reason being that I have not had internet access. This all changed today when I dug a trench to our trailer at Campi Di Sogni farm, connecting ethernet from the main farmhouse; we also have Direct TV, ahh roughing it. Yes, we finally arrived at our destination and we have officially become farmers for the summer, tomato and garlic famrers to be exact. But more on that later. I have to elaborate on the time lapse between posts first, as so many fun and interesting things have happened. This could get long and unruly.

Immediatly upon arriving in Charlottesville, VA we attended a good ole fashioned crawfish boil at a farm, hosted by Montessori parents, that Wendy was sure we would love. She was right, more than right, she was spot on. Everyone camped out so there was much drinking and partying to be done. Kegs of beer, wine, a gigantic party tent, non-stop live music from local bands, a bonfire, 200 hundred people, crawfish, shrimp, a midnight old time music guitar lesson with the lead singer of the Guano Boys (Thank You Chris), new friends, soon to be in laws, and my trusty slackline even made an appearance to the joy of the hoards of Montessori children in attendence. Thank you Andrew and Leigh Ann.





We then spent a week kick'n it in C'ville watching Kelly's little bro and sis, Hanna and Nate. We went Climbing with Brittney in the Blue Ridge mountains, a 5.6 trad crack climb. It was fun but made me miss Boulder. While driving through the deep forest trying to find the route we saw a black bear. And then while hiking back down I got sidetracked in the woods and, hearing something behind me, turned around and found that I was being stalked by a mountain lion. The damn thing was about 15 ft away and when I turned it must have realized that I was too big to attack - I watched as it bounded across a clearing away from me, quick as lightning and as silent as a ghost. I was shaken for the rest of the day and could not help but wonder what would have happened if it had been stalking someone a little smaller than myself, say Kelly.





It was all leading up to a week on the beach on Cape Hatteras in North Carolina. Kelly's father Cory had rented a house on the beach and wanted to show us a good time. Recently, he has taken up the sport of Kiteboarding and was totally amped to teach us how. For those of you who don't know, Kiteboarding is basically wakeboarding behind a giant parasail-type kite. He taught us and I must say every other sport I have ever done seems lame by comparison. I know why I have been snowboarding all these years now, it was just training for this sport. Snowboarding, downhill skiing, wakeboarding, surfing, windsurfing, etc, are complete utter wastes of time when you could be spending your time doing this. If you say otherwise than you have not tried it. For those of you in Colorado now scoffing at this bold statement, I beg of you to get into snowkiting, you can do it on skis or a board. Never again will you have to pay for a lift ticket as the kite can carry you up the mountain and then if you like you can use gravity to get down, although once you feel the wind I think you will opt for a combination of the two. Near the end of the week I was finally starting to get a hang of the kite (which is the hardest part) and I had figured out how to get 10 to 15 feet of air just by flicking the kite around to create upward lift. It was spectacular and so were the resulting crashes, I have yet to land a jump, but the feeling of floating under the kite was worth minor injury. Luckly the pros were in town and we got to watch them ride in the big waves on the ocean side, where they were consistently landing 30 foot airs. I am now a wind fiend.






Now here I am sitting in our luxurious travel trailer on the farm after a hard days work. It has been a little over a week and my body already aches from the labor. But at the same time I have never felt so completly satisfied with a job. We have a roomate named Chris who is probably one of the most "interesting" people I have ever known, I already have bizarre stories I will share about him in upcoming posts, get ready to have your socks knocked off. He is at the beach for a week giving Kelly and I a reprieve from his drmatic escapades. The farm is great and Juliana the 24-year-old farm manager is quickly becoming a good friend. Posts will be be more frequent now, hopefully daily or everyother, same bat time, same bat channel. Peace from Culpeper, VA. Daniel Wilder

On the Road Listening to Jack

KJM

Hippie skirts twirling, muddy toes, weave around the blooming, spring trees
Something's in the oven, take a whiff, smells like love to me
Smile as wide as a western horizon sky, let me see it again please
Beautifully eery ghost songs of wayward cowboys riding on the breeze

Summer sunsets on the mountain prairie, whip time to the past of roaming
Long embraces, loving to talk this way, but we're just looking
Canine barking so excited, in the kitchen while we're cooking
Growing wrinkled, our mind's portrait is where youth's beauty will be lurking

You're the little babe of my life
You're my best friend, you make me high
And when I look in to your eyes, our love is a blinding sight
And when you shake, dance and dip, I have to keep my grip tight
You're the little babe of my life

The apples are ripe for the picking, turning leaves, release their hold
Falling in love with you for the 999th time in a warm autumn poem
Stars to infinity, on a black canvas sky, our bond is just as bold
Brown hair against the earthen tones, a beautiful sight, your glowing soul

Farmhouse down in the vale, under the foggy mountains that loom
Waking up early in the winter cold, under blankets, our naked bodies spoon
Hold you 'till the morning chill subsides, won't let you leave too soon
And when we part for the day, your imprint leaves me howling at the moon

You're the little babe of my life
You're my best friend, you make me high
And when I look into your eyes, the future looks so bright
And when you put on those dark sun glasses, you cut me like a sexy knife
You're the little babe of my life

Daniel Wilder
March 16th, 2007
11:51 AM



Ho, ho, ho! The end is in sight and I dig it. It has been a awhile since I've spread the good word of my journey through life and across the country to a land of new beginnings. The past week and a half have been filled with excitement, adventures and a whole lot of driving.

Last week we saw my parents in Minnesota and hit up my Grandfather's cabin in the great white north. I had not been there in years and as we pulled into the driveway in Crosslake the first thing that hit me was the smell. A strange musty, pine smell that shook my very being. A flood of old memories came pouring back, bittersweet and full of love. Smell is a strange thing, through the smell I experienced my entire life in that cabin in a split second. It was sad, happy and beautiful all at the same time. I hope one day Kelly will experience the same thing when she smells that Crosslake smell. We only stayed for a day and it rained but it was still excellent. And yes we checked out Victor's.



This whole trip has been a time of reflection for me. It seems that everywhere we went in Minnesota I was haunted by memories of people that I have lost along the way. They have disappeared into the countryside, only to be found in the pastures of my mind. At the same time my oldest friends remain close and I hope to reconnect with some of the lost ones eventually. Dave, your package made me cry, thank you so much for that.

Bob Dylan blasts out of the radio and we have just crossed into Maryland. We have also been listening to Matt Dillon acting out the audio book of On the Road. Kerouac is brilliant and makes me want to write more. Our trip has been a little rocky since Minnesota. We stopped in Madison and Milwaukee to see my cousins and Grandmother. I had not seen either of my cousins who are actually more like brothers since last summer. Seeing them is like re-reading your favorite book and we always pick up right where we left off. Grace got to play with Katie, my Grandma's goliath black lab. The smell of my grandmother's house haunted me with memories of Christmas and the Fouth of July and of families being families.

From Milwaukee we hit up Oberlin, Ohio to fraternize with a couple of Kelly's friends from Brazil. Planning on only staying a night, we stayed two as our cat ran away in the morning while we were packing back up. We didn't find her until this morning and she almost got left behind. Our guess was she had to do a little fraternizing of her own, answering the lustful catcalls of the night. Kittens might be on the way.

So here I am writing this as we pull into Frederick, Maryland, car packed to the brim, animals in tow, ready to grab the future by the horns, bucking and kicking until I get bucked off at the end of the line. Peace and Love all around. Dan Wilder.

May 24, 2007 3:00 PM

P.S. The above poem was written while still at "The Farm" in Boulder.

P.S.S. N-tr, Schnitz or whatever you are calling yourself these days. The root of communism is community. This means that in order for you to truly be a communist there has to be interaction between you and other people. If you are depressed you should get some help with it, I did and I am feeling a lot better. It will never be perfect but there are ways to help you cope. The world is a mean and cruel place, don't let "The Man" get you down. A lot of people love you, including myself and I was sad that you didn't come to the little dinner at my parents house. "Realize that life moves fast, it's hard to make the good things last, and realize that the sun don't go down, it's just an illusion caused by the world spinning round"(FL). The world wants to hear what you have to say. Hope to see you soon and have a good time abroad.

420 and Kinetics, Keeping Boulder Weird...

The past couple of weeks I have been ranting. This weeks entry will be shorter and more light hearted. Every year within weeks of each other Boulder is home to two events, that definitely help to keep this place The People's Republic of Boulder. I am referring to 420 and Kinetics.

420 takes place on April 20th and is the annual Marijuana smoking festival that takes place on CU's campus, much to the administration's chagrin. So like any self respecting citizen in favor of less governmental control over everything, I was in attendance.

Kinetics is a festival that takes place at the Boulder Reservoir where teams build human powered crafts that travel on land and water. The local radio station 97.3 KBCO puts on a concert while the whole race takes place. This year it was Robert Randolph and the Family Band and Los Lonely Boys. They both Killed it.

Next week I will be on the road. I think Tom Petty once sung that, "The future is wide open." That is kind of how I feel now. Peace, to and from Boulder. Dan Wilder.

I found Jesus in Salt Lake...But I could not find his private line to GWB

Imagine there's no Heaven
It's easy if you try
No hell below us
Above us only sky
Imagine all the people
Living for today

Imagine there's no countries
It isn't hard to do
Nothing to kill or die for
And no religion too
Imagine all the people
Living life in peace

You may say that I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will be as one

Imagine no possessions
I wonder if you can
No need for greed or hunger
A brotherhood of man
Imagine all the people
Sharing all the world

You may say that I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will live as one

-John Lennon-

I am going to start this weeks entry with an apology. Last week's entry was very anti-mormon in sentiment, and that was very unfair. Mormonism is not the only religion that deserves to be picked on, they all do, and for this I apologize. And yes, Temple Square is as scary as it sounds, hence the above picture.

I think it is high time that someone spoke out for all the reasonable people that live in this country and around the world. Religion is a plague that has haunted humanity for too long. It is the number-one reason for death and destruction in the history of our little blip of time on this planet. Science has completely disproved god in any form that is currently endorsed by any of the world's religions. So in my eyes anyone that believes in organized religion is delusional. It doesn't mean I don't still want to be your friend or treat you with respect.

It just means that I view you as someone who has thrown out reason and the search for truth in favor of faith. Faith is nothing more than blindly believing what you are told; you are nothing but a sheep. And not in the flock of god, but instead in the flock of whatever religious zealot human you have chosen to follow. You can never truly be free, because your mind is shackled by fairy tales and driven by power and profit. There is not one single shred of evidence that any of the miracles in any of the holy books ever happened. You can call it faith; I call it lunacy. You might as well worship Peter Pan, another great work of fiction.

I am not talking about atheist Jews, or people who become Christians for the community of it, but even this is a slippery slope. Some of you may have been brainwashed into the flock at such a young age that you know no better, and for you I feel sorry. There should never be any type of religious child, as they are too young to choose for themselves. But if you actually truly study the facts of science it may not be too late to unshackle your mind. For some it is too late and you will have wasted much of your life's time and energy praying and performing ridiculous rituals in the name of a nonexistent god, not to mention giving your money away to child molesting priests.

Are human beings really so greedy as to have to believe in more than this beautiful little life we have the privilege of living? I think not. I sometimes wonder what would happen if all the people that spent their time every Saturday and Sunday praying in a Temple, Church, or house in Waco, instead took that time and used it to try to promote peace and love to their fellow man. Not in the name of God, because that just creates problems, but instead in the name of the human race, because that is what everyone deserves. The world would be a much happier place.

I am bringing this up because at the moment we are being led, blindly, by a schizophrenic, religious madman named George W. Bush. He has killed more innocent people than most dictators that we loathe, yet we stand by idly and let him do it in the name of God and Oil. Which brings me to another point: Troops are being sent back to Iraq for a third time. I realize it is not your choice if you are in the armed forces to be sent back, but at some point soldiers become personally responsible for the acts they commit.

Look at all the soldiers in Vietnam who took responsibility for their actions and refused to fight any longer even if it did mean jail time. I would say the time is now to refuse to fight. The American people have your back. If you are being sent back for a third time refuse to go. If you do go, know that I, along with a growing number of Americans, do not support you. You are not fighting for freedom, you are fighting for money. And know that if you are going to get a college education or for another such reason, it will be at the expense of the deaths of thousands upon thousands of innocent Iraqi lives that you have gained these rewards. They call this blood money.

The estimated body count of innocent Iraqis on Iraqbodycount.net is minimum 62,760 and maximum 68,786. U.S. soldier causalities are around 3,000. Sounds like there is a whole lot of Iraqi-family target practice going on (aka murder). Soldiers that continue to fight are either mercenaries, people with bloodlust or just too dumb to realize they are part of one of the worst atrocities in American history, and none of them deserve respect or support. It may seem harsh but we have lost a war that should have never been started in the first place. The people that started it should be tried as war criminals and our country should be ashamed that we didn't speak up earlier, I know I am. Peace!

Dan Wilder

Joseph Smith cons Jesus into becoming a Mormon, with the power of his Magic Spectacles

Hey ya'll,
Just thought I'd check in. The BFA project is nearing completion and my prof. digs it so it looks as though I am going to graduate. What a long strange trip it has been, but worth it. This Thursday Kelly and I will be headed to Temple Square in the shadow of the great Salt Lake. Our plan is to bring the whole Mormon religion to a grinding halt by luring all the men over a cliff, lemming-style with promises of lush, young, 13-year-old polygamous beauties waiting for them at the bottom. The virgin thing seems to work for Muslims, so why not Mormons? Other than this humble mission sent to me by god in a vision while I was shopping in the dog food aisle of King Soopers, we also plan to cheer on little miss Brittney Morgan as she kicks ass in the all around comp. of the NCAA Gymnastics Finals. GOOOOOOOOOOOOO BRIT!!!!!!!! And since we are again going to be in a climbing Mecca I think we will hit up some routes. Here are some pictures from the Red Rocks trip, look for UTAH Pics next week. In the words of the great prophet Joseph Smith, "this week's blog has come to pass."

Peace in the Middle East,
Daniel Wilder

Boulder Hiatus Pending

As a first post in what I hope will become a place to communicate with friends old and new, I would like to say that everywhere I look in Boulder these days I am haunted by old memories that seem to replay in my mind. This is probably because I will be leaving soon for the east coast for a year of travels. Gone... but hopefully not forgotten as I hope to be back soon, but all is uncertain in the future "time-fog," a phrase I think Hunter made up, god bless his drunken soul. Speaking of trips, my lovely fiance, some friendly cohorts and I just got back from Vegas, not for gambling however. We were shooting my final BFA Film about climbing in Red Rock Canyon just a couple miles from the city. Everything went great, we threw in a healthy amount of debauchery for good measure. Ho, ho it was a grand ole time. We all exceled and set personal bests in different areas of our climbing. The last few weeks have been me sitting amidst a stack of mini-DV tapes taking one step forward and eight steps back trying to figure out how to put this she-beast of a film together. Frankly I just hope it's good enough to make me graduate, or else I won't be going anywhere...I am near the end and I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. So friends in Colorado I will step out of my editing cave soon, for one last hurrah...for the time being. Meanwhile here's a poem I wrote for our murderous government. As John Lennon once sung "Give Peace a Chance." Peace!

The Terrorist

Pitter-patter of stomping, falling rain on the mind
Doctor tried to up the prescription, turns out we're all just blind
While the king is in his white house counting all his money
He's made a nasty joke, he laughs but it's not funny

The tanks, the planes, the Jeeps all roll over the blood stained sand
Collateral damage screams in pain, 'cause oil permeates it's land
Hide behind the cross, our god he must be right
Come ye all you simple-minded, git yer gun, murder, fight

The king is on the phone with God calling from the Springs
"It's them terrorist witches from overseas, that do them evil things"
The lord told him that Christian peace was the only way to win
So he hanged 'em high, dropped bombs the sky and cleansed them of their sin

"The Man" they swim and play, in their mansion pools filled with money
Sending the meak, the weak, the poor to do the work thats deathly bloody
Treating human lives like pawns in a game of imperialistic Risk
The real question to ask ourselves is who's the terrorist?

Our collective silence echoes into the night...

Dan Wilder
Friday, March 2 2007
12:00 Noon