A Country Rag
For 20 years I owned and lived amidst 600 feet of wilderness land from a dirt road to the low-water beachmark of an always clear fast-running stretch of Virginia's Shenandoah River. The architectually diminutive back of my aframe faced the road and "house gardens" while the floor-to-ceiling glassed front and wrap-around treated-wood deck faced during daylight the fields, river, and winter wetland with its mallards, woodducks and turtles and nightly the panorama of stars and moon in the southern sky. There were four bathrooms: a larger second floor one and another ground-floor, and two well-maintained outhouses. Lone heron and solitary off-course oceanfowl visited randomly. Seventeen treacherous miles from the nearest small town and a challenging mountain pass from the nearest small city, it demanded committed ingenuity to weather isolated seasons on a land-atoll I chose freely and dearly loved. But conditions surrounding it changed deleteriously. The river --a dependable source of food, like the land -- became poisoned by commercial effluent. To my total surprise that nearly-inaccessible area became marketable and over-developed for refugees from dc-baltimore, and parasitic realtors and their unscrupulous lawyers pounced to exploit the new "gold." Even the adjacent national forest became crowded with revved four-wheelers, and often drunkenly-armed hunters.
ACRInc Air Anniversaire: A Dirt Road Anthology
In my Massachusetts childhood home every standard utensil from photoframes to hairbrushes to breadpans was 3-4 generational heirloom, weighted and artfully designed, 3-D (bas relief) monogrammed sterling except the two 14-karat gold monogrammed sewing thimbles. "Filthy lucre" was only discussed domestically behind closed doors. i seldom knew the monetary price of anything. Comic books, which i wasn't allowed to own, were ten cents. A fountain coke was five. Elegantly framed original paintings, mostly by my highly-skilled grandmother, and high-quality prints covered the walls. Well-bound and artily-covered books, old and new, were everywhere. Favored family jewels were amethyst, star sapphire, and diamonds. It was all the lovingly generous sea i was born into and swam in. Only recently does it seem oddly unique and notable. My family never owned slaves, or sponsored indentured servants. Generations bi-gender studied, worked and earned, conserved, saved and invested wisely and well.
ACRInc SuperPlane QuickLoad (Marvel Manse & Museums at FractaLand, Cybersphere)
ACRInc props, and a "hedge fund" collection of other artwork, are my endeavor to transform necessarily and dutifully my ancestral 18th-19th century mostly-copper fortune into 21st century techarts.
ACRInc SuperCat: Synopsis History & Supersection Catalogue
The following referenced chapter of "Chameleon" bibliomemoir is all I ever intend to write of the criminally insane behavior that's raped, robbed, sickened and crippled me by tn-va-dc officials, prattling pontifically and speciously otherwise to "hold onto their seats," sworn to be American and uphold federal and state Constitutions. It is meant to be accurately interesting and palatably entertaining but is not exhaustive in factually ugly and unforgivably heinous detail.
ACRInc Beasts and Heathens
Three "axis of evil" shenandoah valley virginia perps are dead and buried now: john huddleston, sam price, and john waybright. But others are alive and free --unpunished for their deliberately avericious, and vicious, criminal complicities.
ACRInc Into The Other Side of Awful: The Awful Anthology