On St Patrick's Day every White American wanker is Irish. On St David's Day, you'd be lucky to find an American who even knows what or where Wales is, even among Americans who might have some Welsh heritage. One theory I read was that during the various waves of immigration (and yes there were far less Welsh) there were two check boxes for the Welsh on the various immigration forms, 'English' or 'Scots-Irish,' most Welsh chose 'English' by default, after all between 1707 and the late 1960s Wales was legally England). Thus Welsh heritage was watered down and harder to trace back unless you lived somewhere like Pennsylvania. Now with accessibility to gene-tracking tech that is slowly changing and I'm meeting more people claiming Welsh. White America is so desperate for culture and identity and not without reason.
foulweather
Cymru To Cascadia Via Dilmun
01 March 2025
Decolonize your mind and Iechyd Da!
On St Patrick's Day every White American wanker is Irish. On St David's Day, you'd be lucky to find an American who even knows what or where Wales is, even among Americans who might have some Welsh heritage. One theory I read was that during the various waves of immigration (and yes there were far less Welsh) there were two check boxes for the Welsh on the various immigration forms, 'English' or 'Scots-Irish,' most Welsh chose 'English' by default, after all between 1707 and the late 1960s Wales was legally England). Thus Welsh heritage was watered down and harder to trace back unless you lived somewhere like Pennsylvania. Now with accessibility to gene-tracking tech that is slowly changing and I'm meeting more people claiming Welsh. White America is so desperate for culture and identity and not without reason.
19 February 2025
I spoke to Alan Ginsberg Last Night
Alan was an overrated poet in my opinion but he had some moments, some lines here and there that resonate. Anyway, he let me know, 'they' omitted the last stanza from 'America,' that he wants you all to read now.
11 February 2025
16 January 2025
Meeting David Lynch in 1979 just North of Malibu
I met David Lynch in 1979 just outside of Malibu California. I had just finished up surfing at Malibu with my friend Mickey Donta and we were famished. Mikey was stubbornly sticking to surfing old fashioned longboards and I was exploring the new dimensions offered by shortboards. And we were having a friendly debate about he future of surfing as a result. Mikey said, “There is no future in surfing. Just now.” I said, Mikey I’m really hungry. Let’s get some food.
So we loaded up Mikey’s 1967 Karmann Ghia and headed to a Jewish Fish Taco place, up the Pacific Coast Highway a way. We tied down the boards on the roof of the Ghia and I briefly worried about the roof caving in but Mikey didn’t seem to care. I hopped in the car and as we sped North he said, “Maybe my friend David from Montana, will be there.”
Sure enough, David was there. He wasn’t eating tacos. He was drinking black coffee and smoking a cigarette. He was sweating a little bit, probably due to his attire. He was wearing well worn khakis, and a white Gant shirt that was buttoned up to the top and an unstructured black sports coat.
Mikey and I ordered three tacos and a lemonade each and we sat down next to David. I’m often a little uncomfortable meeting new people but David was very nice and welcoming. We had a nice chat about the future or lack thereof , in surfing and then David said he was working on a script for a new film about surfing. Wild, I thought. Just wild.
“What’s it called, David?” Mikey asked.
David shouted very loudly back, “What?!”
Everyone else in the restraint turned to look at us.
Mikey didn’t seem surprised, “I said, what’s your new surf movie called?”
David stared at Mikey for an endless minute and then replied,
“Elephant Man!”
We both nodded with approval at the title of David’s new film.
Then David asked about our weekend plans. Mikey said, he was going to do what he does every day. Surf his 10’ long single fin surfboard in a straight line at Malibu.
And what about you Pete, “What are doing with your weekend? David shouted.
I said, I was going to watch the new Star Trek Movie at the Tower Theatre.
“That’s a nice cinema, Pete.” David said.
And then another long silence. Mikey munched on his tacos and I was hoping David would continue the conversation but he was very comfortable being quiet. I wasn’t so comfortable and felt compelled to break it.
“And David, what about you?” I meekly asked.
“What?! David again shouted at an even louder volume and people were visibly getting uncomfortable in their chairs, shifting around, except Mikey who must have been used to David’s speech patterns.
I nervously repeated myself, “What about you David, how are you going to spend your weekend?”
“Oh!” He shouted again. And then continued in a slightly more tolerable volume.
“I’m going to spend some time observing my mind.” He said matter-of-factly.
I frowned at his response and then,
“Because the mind is the Final Frontier, Pete. The mind.” He said. “Oh and I might set out to find some good-fitting pants also.”
We finished our tacos in silence. David, his coffee and cigarette.
Until Mikey said, “Well great to see you David. Hopefully catch you again real soon.”
“What?!” David shouted even louder than before, again unnerving the other patrons.
And Mikey repeated himself, “Hopefully catch you again real soon, David.”
All three of us nodded and Mikey and I were on our way, leaving David by himself.
I never saw him again and Mikey and I went back to that Jewish Taco place many a time.