Belief Case

Did you forget to pack something?

What if all the things you believed in could be bundled up and shoved inside of one suitcase. But there was limited space. What beliefs would make the cut and what would be left at home. Each time you step out into the world, you tote around your luggage of beliefs, a way to make the world make sense.

Do you tend to congregate with others who packed the same things? I does make us all a lot more comfortable. Yet the scariest part is opening up your belief-case for someone else to see. It’s like baring your soul.

Tim Kane

Anatomy of a Latte

So how many tears, exactly, do into a latte? All I know is this, Starbucks isn’t really in the coffee business. For on, their java is terrible. Dark and burned. What they really sell is caffeine, sugar and image. You get a Starbucks because everyone has one. Maybe there’s some convenience thrown in. They have dominated the planet. Personally, I prefer to churn up my own java creations.

Though I have been known to indulge.

Tim Kane

Teeny Haunts: The Tree the Owns Itself

The very idea of a tree legally owning itself captured my attention. The tree gained it independence sometime between 1820 and 1832, courtesy of one William Henry Jackson. He owned the land and was so fond of the tree that he enacted a deed to ensure it would remain standing.

I, W. H. Jackson, of the county of Clarke, of the one part, and the oak tree … of the county of Clarke, of the other part: Witnesseth, That the said W. H. Jackson for and in consideration of the great affection which he bears said tree, and his great desire to see it protected has conveyed, and by these presents do convey unto the said oak tree entire possession of itself and of all land within eight feet of it on all sides.

Some of this is shrouded in legend. The tree (and the dubious deed) didn’t gain prominence until a front-page article ran in the Athens Weekly Banner on August 12th, 1890.

According to law, this deed would have no legal standing. However the city of Athens has honored the tree and preserved its legal standing.

Teeny Haunts: Porterville Gnome

Two seperate families, both owning the same property on the Tule River near Porterville, experienced this malevolent creature. A woman named Tammy moved onto an old farm with her children. Immediately she sensed a presence watching them from the old barn.

Returning home with groceries, Tammy heard a “very freaky, very evil-sounding chuckle”. The noise came from a three-foot humanoid figure about 50 yards away. She described it as wearing a red pointed hat, just like a gnome, only not at all cute and cuddly. It had sharp teeth with an ear-to-ear grin.

Tammy ran to her house and locked the door. Movement appeared outside the kitchen window, just the tip of the red hat. It wanted to get into the house. After a very long time, the tiny creature left. Yet for the remainder of her stint in that house, Tammy would hear creepy laughter coming from the barn.

Years later, a woman names Charlie moved onto the same property with her husband. They took a liking to a small pond on the property and decorated it with gnomes, toadstools, stocking the pond with koi fish. Only the old barn still emanated creepy vibes. The pair stayed away as much as possible.

In the still hours of the morning, they woke to the sound of “raspy, gurgling singing.” A tiny gnomish creature stood by the pond, again with the reddish hat.

The thing sensed them watching and snatched a koi from the pond, gobbling it up in one bite. Charlie’s husband threw open the window and threatened to call the police. The creature only grinned with it’s terrible pointy teeth, and gave the couple the bird before vanishing in the night. The only evidence of the encounter were small, childlike footprints around the pond.

The creature returned, night after night, eating more of the fish. Finally the couple took down all the decorations and got rid of the fish. This only served to aggravate the little creature, who ran around screaming in an unknown language.

Many years later, Charlie and Tammy met and compared their stories. They both had witnessed a tiny creature in a red hat. They attempted to visit the old farm, only the new owner didn’t want to speak to them. They did notice that the dilapidated barn had been torn down.

Was it possible that a red cap, a creature native to England, had ventured all the way out to California? Although neither of the woman’s stories detailed what would happen should the creature enter their house, I pulled from red cap mythology to fill in the missing pieces.

It makes me wonder what other nasties are lurking in the dark.

Tim Kane