Welcome to F.C. Irish's Flight Log

Feel free to comment, discuss, add, or challenge anything on this blog. The idea of the Flight Log is to find our common culture amidst the regional differences. I'm looking for a clear understanding, and everything I write is meant to facilitate discussion toward that goal. Enjoy.

31 January 2012

Prelude (Short Story)

TUESDAY, JANUARY 31, 2012                                                 3:13 A.M. E.S.T.  
SORTIE 1 OF THE DAY  
PILOT F. Irish S/A  
EQUIPMENT Commodore Barry   


ENTRY 1

     Let's try to get something done here, a beginning to those short stories I've been putting up. A beginning so to speak, to give you a background.


GH HIT!


     I have been waiting a long time for this day, having put my heart and soul into my one glorious creation. Through trial and error I had successfully accomplished a goal that I had been joking about for a while now. "Liberty," I whisper, "I have actually grown Liberty." I took a seat on a large rock, the gray stone in stark contrast to the lush emerald green of the grass. A gust of wind blows past, presenting me with the sweet, intoxicating smell of my plant, the lone survivor of five hybrids. I glance at the egg sized flower I just retrieved, admiring the beauty. Small amounts of a bright green break up the otherwise blue bud, thin red hairs cover it, all under a layer of crystals that gives the whole thing a glaze of white. I had birthed a plant that produced red, white, and blue buds. Now I could sit back and enjoy the fruits of my labor.

30 January 2012

Incoherent Ramblings

SUNDAY, JANUARY 29, 2012                                                  11:27 P.M. E.S.T.  
SORTIE 7 OF THE DAY  
PILOT F. Irish S/A    
EQUIPMENT Old Blue Eyes   


ENTRY 2

GH HIT!

     There is so much on my mind right now that I cannot give yous one single thought that will define this post. A subject would mean that I actually have a purpose or idea in mind when I started this, and to tell yous the truth, I really don't have the motivation or desire to do this right now. This weekend took a lot outta me; mind, body, and soul. Common sense tells us that we need to grow up at some point, that we need to buckle down and follow a path that will keep us relatively comfortable as we wait to die. But can it really be common sense to wait for death?
     This is going to be the incoherent ramblings of a man struggling to find something that he can hold onto I'm afraid. Not a single thought that goes through my mind is staying long enough for me to dive into it, as one thing I think links itself to another which leads to a third, until finally it is all one singular mass of idiocy and self loathing. That GH HIT! above this paragraph... that is the first hit I've taken since the sun passed its midway point in the sky. High? Far from, and as I look at my present state, I will continue to remain distant from that point of bliss that allows me the chance to stop myself from hating, well, myself.

26 January 2012

Nipping at the Heels (Short Story)

THURSDAY, JANUARY 26, 2012                                              3:02 A.M. E.S.T.  
SORTIE 2 OF THE DAY  
PILOT F. Irish S/A    
EQUIPMENT General Wayne  
 
ENTRY 1
     
     I want to write another short story, I like being able to create an entire world that I am in command of, with a cast of characters that I for the most part control. We shall see how this plays out. Hope it is a good one.

GH HIT!

     The rain falls in sheets as I watch the carriage road melt into a near impassible trap. General Wayne is moving our regiment to the river, in an effort to resupply from our naval forces after the battle a few days prior. We may have inflicted damage to our enemy, but they remained at large in the countryside, pillaging the small farmers and tradesmen we were charged with protecting. As added defense, the general posted my small unit, one man short from our last engagement, as the rear guard. To give us some real strength I was allotted the use of a squad of riflemen, and a platoon of light infantry, units that I was more than happy to receive. Now, with the light infantry cradled behind a stone wall, and the riflemen scattered in the wooded hill above the road, we wait. And from the sounds of it, we won't be waiting long.

25 January 2012

What I Would Do To A Woman (from the actual Flight Log)

Figuring It Out

WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 25, 2012                                           1:09 A.M. E.S.T.  
SORTIE 1 OF THE DAY  
PILOT F. Irish S/A    
EQUIPMENT Commodore Barry   


ENTRY 1

     I want to talk about self worth tonight, as I have lost mine. Self Worth is defined by Collins English Dictionary as "respect for or a favourable opinion of oneself" (English means legit English, I left the damn misspelling because it is a quote, get off my back). Recently, my opinion of myself has been thrown against the rocks, the lighthouse having been extinguished in the storm. From every direction, the voices of dissent have been growing louder and more forceful. Even those I had viewed as allies in my struggle to make something of myself have begun to turn against me. One close friend, a veteran of our armed forces, is very adamant that I have done nothing but waste my time pursuing what he views as empty dreams. His life is much different than mine, and has been since we parted ways after high school. As my views emerged in a more radical and blindly just light, his have taken to the system and stations of life that I have come to question. As I call for REAL change (A throw back attack to some young students who I tried to discuss politics with after they took over the tv in my dorm in '08. I asked them repeatedly what Obama meant by change...they couldn't tell me.) and the universal equality and rights of all citizens, he has taken the view that it is better to struggle through the normal channels of American society, choosing his education based upon monetary decisions.

23 January 2012

Short Story Time

MONDAY, JANUARY 23, 2012                                                 2:22 A.M. E.S.T.  
SORTIE # OF THE DAY
PILOT F. Irish S/A    
EQUIPMENT General Wayne 


ENTRY 1


     This entry is going to be a short story, one that will need some explanation before hand. My bowls are named after militarily historic figures, so when I write a short story like this, the characters are usually related to the bowl's name. General Anthony "Mad Anthony" Wayne was a Revolutionary War hero, who mostly controlled the Continental Light Infantry units. The enemy in this particular story is not that of the British Empire as we would commonly expect when discussing the American Revolution, but that of depression, represented in this story as the Black Guard. But, I hope you will enjoy this short story.

Ghosts in the Snow

GH HIT!

     Cannon fire rolled like thunder through the snow covered woods. I stopped to try and gain my bearings, but it was impossible in the cold air of the night. The sounds seemed to come from every direction. My nine soldiers continued past me, picking their way across a small stream as their blue and buff coats shifted in the pale moonlight. The extreme left wasn't the best place to be in this fight, but it was much better than the center, where the enemy cannon turned the open field into a grinder. The sergeant held up his closed fist and the men hugged the frozen bank, two of the riflemen trained their long rifles down range. I snaked across the small obstruction and slipped in beside the Sarge.

20 January 2012

Logically Speaking

FRIDAY, JANUARY 20, 2012                                                    1:32 A.M. E.S.T.  
SORTIE 1 OF THE DAY  
PILOT F. Irish S/A    
EQUIPMENT Commodore Barry   


ENTRY 1

     Before I pack the Commodore for his cruise, I'm finishing off anything left in any bowl, all condensed into the Commodore. That means, instead of wasting the three 3/4 burned bowls, I've combined them all into one 3/4 full bowl. But no fear my multi-national friends, for I came by my smoking habits, dos and don'ts, in a surfer heavy culture. If it ain't white, it ain't done. Its a waste of marijuana to just scrape out every not finished bowl into the trash, and if you feel like you can get away with it, you've never been through an extended drought. Don't waste, especially buds. Dutifully accomplished, I shall now embark on Sortie 1 of my day, General Wayne is on stand-by... This looks like it is gonna be a long one.

GH HIT!

     I want to talk about logic tonight, or this morning, whichever you choose to call one-thirty in the morning. Logic, as defined by Merriam-Webster is: "a science that deals with the principles and criteria of validity of inference and demonstration : the science of the formal principles of reasoning." Dumbed down a bit, logic is the reason you do or don't. Through experience and teaching, we form reasoning skills that determine what we ultimately do in everyday life. Logic dictates that I will smoke marijuana, through experience I have come to the conclusion that it is the best way to handle my medical issues. Prior to that, my logic dictated that I would never smoke pot. It wasn't acceptable, or in line with my life plan at the time. 

19 January 2012

Joint Operation

THURSDAY, JANUARY 19, 2012                                            11:10 A.M. E.S.T.  
SORTIE 2 OF THE DAY  
PILOT F. Irish S/A    
EQUIPMENT Old Blue Eyes   


ENTRY 1

     Packed a half bowl for the morning, as my stomach is giving me pain, and I've got a lot on my mind. However, I wanted to touch on joints, one of the most iconic ways that smokers throughout time have enjoyed marijuana.

GH HIT!

I am no Master Roller, I cannot roll blunts for the life of me (and I prefer not to. Though I may partake, and throw in for a blunt, it is by no means my favored way of smoking, and I see it as a waste of marijuana), and only recently have I returned to rolling Js after a two year hiatus. The point is, I roll what is known as a bugle: tapered, with the mouthpiece being about maybe a half to a third the width of the end you light. After closing the mouthpiece, I leave the burning end open, packing in the bud that fell out as I rolled the joint. With a twist, I've completed a bugle style joint. I bring this up because last night, both myself and B Cents each rolled a J. My bugle seemed strange to him (and it more than likely is strange to most my age, as it is a classic way of rolling, and by classic I mean first half of the twentieth century), and he presented to me what I call a cannon. Consistently he rolls joints the size of Camel Wides, they are massive (His blunts are the same, as packed as they can be).

17 January 2012

Ethics and Such Nonsense

TUESDAY, JANUARY 17, 2012                                                   8:06 P.M. E.S.T.
SORTIE 4 OF THE DAY
PILOT F. Irish S/A    
EQUIPMENT General Wayne  

ENTRY 3
     Stoners are some of the most helpful people in the world. Think about it, a true Stoner is never going to back out of something that will ultimately help someone else, unless that other person has severely wronged them. If you are outta bud, most Stoners will assist in getting you high, or giving you enough to get there later. I personally do not worry about money when smoking people up, sharing is caring they always say, and I care a lot about marijuana. Partly due to my philosophy on bud, and mostly due to the lyrics in a song, I joke that I'm the Reefer Man. Olde Tyme Jazz baby! But we are digressing from the point here.

GH HIT! 

     Quick run down of my Stoner ethics, my PERSONAL Stoner ethics: Always be willing to share, even if it is your last bud, for someday the favor will be returned. Respect other view points, preferences, and definitions regardless of your own. Never turn down a bowl of bud, regardless of quality (it may be all they have access to). Always offer a fresh packed bowl to the rest of the group,

...And I'm Not Tired

TUESDAY, JANUARY 17, 2012                                                 2:00 A.M. E.S.T.
SORTIE 1 OF THE DAY  
PILOT F. Irish S/A  
EQUIPMENT General Wayne


ENTRY 1
     Which can go both ways. I can be upset about it, or I can make it productive. The issue is in the word productive. I can argue that writing in the blog here is being productive, that I am contributing toward my goals by putting in another entry and leaving it at that for the night. But that would not get me any closer to my goals. As it stands right now, my total page views sits at 199, which, for only doing this since November 10th seems good to me. I've had readers from six countries (By volume: U.S., Russia, Germany, U.K., Ireland, Ukraine), which has startled, enlightened, and brought me enjoyment. My most viewed post has been 'Changes', a two paragraph foray into how my views have changed, and my least viewed  (with stats) has been 'Reefer Man', a comic about a vindictive spirit that possess my body. I've got three pages, one poll, and a smattering of other things that I found interesting, and still do not have a complete grasp of what this blog is capable of doing in relation to functions of the site.

GH HIT!

16 January 2012

History, It's What's For Dinner

MONDAY, JANUARY 16, 2012                                                  7:50 P.M. E.S.T.  
SORTIE 4 OF THE DAY
PILOT F. Irish S/A    
EQUIPMENT Old Blue Eyes   


ENTRY 2


GH HIT!


     We've been told our entire lives that we study history so we do not repeat the same mistakes. As time has shown, not everyone studies history... they look at it for support of their own claims, and deny the other side. And yes, most history is written by the victors, but you can find the defeated stories if you look properly. Today is Martin Luther King, Jr. Day here in the United States. For those of you who do not know, MLK Jr was THE leading civil rights activist up until his assassination in 1968. Today is meant to be a day of remembrance, to honor not only his memory, but the collective memory of our country's bleak past of bigotry so we do not repeat those same mistakes, those same acts of bravery and violence, as we progress as a nation into the future. I have had the priviladge (thanks to the tireless efforts of a dear friend) to meet Dr. Andrew Young, himself a leading civil rights activist and friend of Dr. King Jr.'s. His bearing and tact, even now, left a profound impact on me as I watched him walk into the lecture hall two years ago [Note: he received threatening letters, and STILL showed up to enlighten "...the future leaders of our country."].

15 January 2012

Sometimes You Can't Get There

SUNDAY, JANUARY 15, 2012                                                   1:30 P.M. E.S.T.  
SORTIE 3 OF THE DAY  
PILOT F. Irish S/A    
EQUIPMENT General Sherman   


ENTRY 1

GH HIT!

     I've got no idea what to write about today, got a lingering headache, that is relieved by the pot, and hopefully by the aspirin I took just before this cup of coffee. I hope it all works out, and my head stops hurting. I don't know if I will be doing anything tonight, though I have to be at work 8 A.M. tomorrow morning and I still exist without a vehicle at the present time. The only way to get to work may be to stay somewhere where I know I'll have a ride. That or set one up now, so that I have a set schedule for once.

HIT!

I gotta do laundry, that's for sure.

(Continued at 3:01 P.M.)

HIT!

Buh, that's all I can really say. It is one of those days that you just don't wanna do anything, I just wanna fucking do something. Last night was a blast, but started out awkward for me, as it had been three years since I was at a party like that. Makes you feel kinda old. I don't know though, just blar.

14 January 2012

Deal With This!

SATURDAY, JANUARY 14, 2012                                               6:37 P.M. E.S.T.
SORTIE 4 OF THE DAY  
PILOT F. Irish S/A    
EQUIPMENT Commodore Barry   


ENTRY 1


     Long, long start to this year. Found out what it was like to have none of the modern conveniences I that take for granted, and it sucks. Got a new designated dealer, worked through a hook-up/connect, and very pleased. B. Cents and his blunt fucked me up good, and I got to see the hottest little number I know for a short bit. So much was discussed marijuana-wise in the past twenty-four hour period that I've gotta stop, take a hit, and think about the thoughts I wanted to touch on.

HIT! x2

Let's just go with a simple subject, one that has been a major concern for a bit: Dealers. I don't know of a single dealer that I would consider a Stoner, and mind you, dealer does not mean a friend you get pot off of and shoot the shit with for the rest of the night, but an acquaintance of a strictly business nature. Let's face it, unless you've been going to the dude for a good bit, or you have a generally great report (reputation), most dealers are just looking to get your money, give you whatever they have, and be on their way. Unless they were exceptional businessmen (I was blessed with that type of dealer at college), or like minded individuals, I don't think I have ever had a dealer I would trust.

09 January 2012

Quick Thought Before Food

MONDAY, JANUARY 9, 2012                                                    6:06 P.M. E.S.T.  
SORTIE 2 OF THE DAY  
PILOT F. Irish S/A    
EQUIPMENT Commodore Barry   


ENTRY 2

     I've gotta look into the actual log to retrieve the thought I had today. Smoker types!

HIT! x3


You see, C.R. doesn't smoke by himself. Now, mind you , he is a Junior Pothead, he just doesn't have the desire to smoke by himself. It wasn't until recently that he started smoking without his guide (the person responsible for his comfort around marijuana), but he will only smoke if someone else is smoking. I, on the other hand, smoke so often, it really isn't practical to worry about other people joining me for a bowl. Not to mention, I'm not smoking as a social outlet, I'm smoking as a medical user for the majority of the time. This, however brings up a very interesting point. I believe in the classes, and the titles, but are there types?

05 January 2012

Our Most Basic of Enemy

THURSDAY, JANUARY 5, 2012                                               1:37 A.M. E.S.T.  
SORTIE 1 OF THE DAY  
PILOT F. Irish S/A    
EQUIPMENT Old Blue Eyes    

ENTRY 1

GB HIT!

     Fear... It is the great divider, the one thing that determines everything in human interaction. Either you overcome it, or you submit to it. You can take the reins in your hands and hold on for the ride, knowing that there is a strong chance you'll be better off for conquering that foe; or you can sit down and allow it to rule your decisions, infect your thought and spoil your hopes. I feel compelled to present to you the reality that I am a fearing man. I am afraid of what my actions will entail, what my words will insight, and what my future holds for me. I am afraid that what I do is futile, what I participate in will fail, and what I hope for will never be realized. I am afraid of many many things. Yet, I have chosen not to submit to this tyrannical fear that has come to define our human condition, as well as our social situations.

04 January 2012

This Sucks

WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 4, 2012                                            5:12 A.M. E.S.T.
SORTIE 2 OF THE DAY  
PILOT F. Irish S/A    
EQUIPMENT General Sherman    

ENTRY 1
     Literally, this entry is going to suck. I've got nothing for yous, I've got nothing for me, and I've definitely got nothing for any sort of authority figure. You think I know why I've got no motivation, satisfaction, or desire to do this right now? I'm trying to force something out. I can't even look at the blog without wanting to do something to improve its look, and yet no matter how I try, it doesn't satisfy me. I feel stagnant, as if nothing changes, life will always be exactly as it is now, or was in the past, with some sort of glass ceiling keeping my spirits caged.

03 January 2012

What Does It All Mean?

TUESDAY, JANUARY 3, 2012                                                    9:47 P.M. E.S.T.  
SORTIE 4 OF THE DAY
PILOT F. Irish S/A  
EQUIPMENT General Sherman  

ENTRY 4

     I was two paragraphs in when my browser said 'Fuck you stoner!' and closed out with an error notice...apparently it doesn't like stoner music searches. Luckily, I hadn't hit General Sherman yet... so...

GH HIT!

I feel the need to clarify the basic outline of my Log here, and why it is the way it is. You see, I worry that yous may not understand what I'm actually saying when I start these entries, or when I name some officer from the past, etc etc.
     I call it my Flight Log, because I associate getting high with flying. The more you put in, the more you push the throttle, the higher you go. Obviously the date and time are self explanatory, it is (presently) 9:52 P.M. E.S.T. on the third day of the first month of the year of two thousand and twelve. Sortie refers to the act of smoking, and the sortie number is how many times I've smoked that day up until that point. Pilot...another obvious one, I'm the pilot, the person who is taking part on the 'flight' if you will. If there is more than one person involved, they are also denoted under the pilot section. Equipment is the piece I am using while smoking this time. I have three glass bowls that I rotate through on a regular basis: General Sherman, Commodore Barry, and General Wayne (by time owned oldest to newest). They've all been named for one reason or another after militarily historic American figures, two of which are from my Commonwealth (Barry was an Irish immigrant who served in the Revolution and is considered the father of the United States Navy, Wayne was Pennsylvania born in Chester County, which at the time of the Revolution also included what is today Delaware County), and the other was an Ohio native who served in the Civil War (though he 'burned' his way through the South, it is important to note that he DID NOT burn civilian targets, only militarily important targets, so he is not some evil devil sent to destroy the Southern way of life [frankly, as outspoken of a Northerner as I am, I enjoy the relaxed pace at which my Southern brethren operate]).