Dd0g

Members
  • Content

    251
  • Joined

  • Last visited

    Never
  • Feedback

    0%

Everything posted by Dd0g

  1. Dd0g

    Bovine BASE

    At least I now understand what purpose those sheds, empty in summer, serve in BASE paradise. Peace, D-d0g +~+~+~+~ But this, surely, was the glory that no spirits, canine or human, had ever clearly seen, the light that never was on land or sea, and yet is glimpsed by the quickened mind everywhere.
  2. Dd0g

    in memory of Josh

    Today, with a beautiful winter day and thoughts of many lost friends still alive in my soul, I opened a new exit (nearest town Winthrop, WA) in honor of Josh. A long and somewhat sketchy approach hike had me thinking that if Josh were along he`d be smiling all the way up. At exit, I imagined him jumping an E not far from his hometown, alone. That, too, made me smile and with that I stepped off. Good energy was in the air, and things all came together. A short hike back to my car, and I warmed up my old bones as my partner Rion wagged and smiled his inestimable joy. Here`s to you, Josh, and may you find happiness and comraderie wherever you have gone. There`s a pretty new E in the north of your former home state that stands as a little memento of your time here. I wish I could share it with you in person, but even though I can`t do that I can keep your memory and your smile in my heart and pass it forward to others that cross my path in life. For personal reasons, I`ve dubbed this exit the Frasierdog exit. . . without doubt, Josh would smile at that. Peace, D-d0g +~+~+~+~ But this, surely, was the glory that no spirits, canine or human, had ever clearly seen, the light that never was on land or sea, and yet is glimpsed by the quickened mind everywhere.
  3. Valhalla became stronger as another beautiful person leaves us behind. Josh was certainly one of the "good ones" in my corner of the world, and I feel fortunate that I shared some good times with him over the years. While I hadn't seen him in too many months, last week I was thinking of him as I camped out beneath an E that we'd done together previously. On that object, one week Josh had gone out to jump it solo - a bold move, I thought. Not only that, he'd exited a bit too strong and ended up spinning off a full front flip a a result! Calmly (according to him, anyway ), he allowed the rotation to continue through, opened on-heading, landed fine, and smiled about it. How many people would have shared that story with a "more senior" jumper and risked being judged or ridiculed? Josh simply though it was a great story and his smile as he told it sticks with me to this day. I had planned to call him last week, but left his number at home and figured "what's the rush, I'll call next week or sometime later." Life intervenes, and now I'll never have the privilege of sharing a beer with him. That is my loss, all of our loss. I certainly wasn't Josh's "best friend" or anything, but to me that's just not the point. The point for me is that Josh was a bright light that was out there living life. It's sad and tragic that he made the choice he did. . . that's a choice I've been nearby too much in my life already, even before Josh's decision. Why do the good ones follow that path, there's no justice in that no matter how you cut it. Fly free, Josh. You made the world a better place by your presence here. My four-legged family and I will say a word of goodbye for you this evening, and we'll wish you Godspeed as you continue your journey wherever it may lead you. Peace, D-d0g & Four-Legged Friends +~+~+~+~ But this, surely, was the glory that no spirits, canine or human, had ever clearly seen, the light that never was on land or sea, and yet is glimpsed by the quickened mind everywhere.
  4. Alas, the secret is out. Tom has never actually jumped off anything taller than a milk crate. . . the "jumps" others have seen were all staged using body doubles. I had hoped that Tom would end the charade years ago, but the deeper he got the harder it would be to call it off. Now, it's just gone careening wildly out of control and I don't think anybody is driving the bus. I remember, once, when Tom was playing along with his "jumping" story on a crane in Belgium. Not surprisingly, he wanted me to jump first so that his stunt double could rush out and "jump" for him after I landed. On a hunch, I offered to pin check him. Sure enough, once I popped the pin on his rig I noticed that the "canopy" inside was just a couple of high-threadcount cotton sheets. Left clutching the sheets as I flopped off the crane, his face was a pastiche of emotions. That reminds me of back when he and I used to sing in that barbershop quarted back in Skokie, but I digress. Having discovered his secret years ago, I've been in a favorable position to exert pressure on him to say what I want. This, surely, explains alot. In the end, though, does it really matter if Tom jumps or not? I mean, he's got an iPod full of Jimmy Buffett tunes and a hella cute car to boot. . . all the rest is tantamount to rounding error. Peace, D-d0g +~+~+~+~ But this, surely, was the glory that no spirits, canine or human, had ever clearly seen, the light that never was on land or sea, and yet is glimpsed by the quickened mind everywhere.
  5. Dd0g

    Quote of the day

    Subject: My new cult To: [email protected], [email protected], [email protected] X-Mailer: Lotus Notes Release 6.0 September 26, 2002 Message-ID: From: [email protected] Date: Fri, 17 Jan 2003 12:27:07 -0800 X-MIMETrack: Serialize by Router on PDX100/Servers/BVC(Release 6.0|September 26, 2002) at 01/17/2003 12:27:14 PM MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-type: text/plain; charset=US-ASCII The principals of Dwainism, for a happier, healthier you: Your Personal Mantra: (Chant 3 times daily while looking in the mirror) No Morals No Ethics No Conscience No Guilt Key Points to Remember: Having a conscience in life is like driving a car with the parking brake on. Q. What is the true definition of guilt? A. Fear of getting caught. Q. What is your sole purpose in life? A. To derive pleasure. +~+~+~+~ But this, surely, was the glory that no spirits, canine or human, had ever clearly seen, the light that never was on land or sea, and yet is glimpsed by the quickened mind everywhere.
  6. Dd0g

    Quote of the day

    Life, with its lessons, has taught me many things, but I find disheartening the fact that many questions we were asking ourselves in the mid-eighties have remained unanswered. Then, we deluded ourselves with the hope that the climbing world was about to start a new chapter. The reality was that after Renato's death, and once the shock was absorbed, mountaineeering circles continued on a different path as if nothing had happened. The fashion of concatenations and fast climbs allowed Renato's ascents to be forgotten quickly. Only now, years later, overcome by surprise, are young climbers beginning to realize the value of Renato's undertakings and trying to understand. - Roberto Mantovani (translated, from the Italian, by Alpinist magazine) Makes one think. . . at least, those of us (still) capable of thought. Peace, D-d0g +~+~+~+~ But this, surely, was the glory that no spirits, canine or human, had ever clearly seen, the light that never was on land or sea, and yet is glimpsed by the quickened mind everywhere.
  7. it's called being educated, big boy. . . you might want to try it someday. It's really fun! Sad that I know more about the legal system in your country than you do, and I don't even live there. No hidden agenda here. I disagreed with the argument you proposed in your initial post on the subject. I found your response to be laughably indicative of some major issues regarding sexuality that you seem to never tire of publicly fighting to bury within yourself, without much success. Hence, I engaged in what we call "satire" with respect to this issue. Look it up in the dictionary if that one eludes 'ya, Ray. All I hope is that you can get past this "angry denial" stage and come out of that dark, musty closet Ray. I still remember when you hit on me at Slim's bachelor party. . . and I'm not the only one!
  8. Don't stress about it, Jason. Ray knows full well the facts surrounding JV's blatant burning. Rather, Ray is just using the conversation as an excuse to indulge some of his gay fantasies via yet another rabid homophobic rant. . quelle surprise, as they say up here with less than a touch of irony. Ever wonder where all of Ray's homophobia-out-loud comes from? That's right - denial, Ray is in fact gay as a treeful of parrots. Gay as a three-dollar bill! Gay as a sky filled with fluffy, rainbow-colored clouds! Don't worry, Ray. . . someday you'll find a man who won't reject you, and then you can finally find peace. Until then, I hope your gay fantasy life is enough to sustain you. Peace, D-d0g ps: gay sodomy isn't illegal anywhere in America any more, Ray - the Supremes knocked the piss out of that one last year. So when you do find the gay lover of your dreams, bugger away to your heart's content without fear of jailtime big boy. +~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+ +~+~+~+~ But this, surely, was the glory that no spirits, canine or human, had ever clearly seen, the light that never was on land or sea, and yet is glimpsed by the quickened mind everywhere.
  9. Gosh, Ray, last time I jumped at TF with both Slim and Dwain they were fine with not jumping off the rail. Why? Well, a bit of fucking common sense I guess. And it seems to me that if DW could exhibit commonsense in this regard and avoid a pointless stick in the eye to "authority" in the process, it can't be so bloody hard can it? The local folks -and local jumpers - don't want folks going from the rail. So. . . don't. How fucking hard is that? Can't understand the connection, Ray? Need someone to spell it out for 'ya. . . ? The thing is, jumping off the rail is no more fun than jumping otherwise at TF (or doing the wild and super-duper rad "jump from the steel" bullshit that was never more than a silly waste of time given that the bridge is legal with nil approach. . . why in the world would one muck around underneath. . . there's always HS in WA if that's one's preference, though I suppose there's a bit more skill required to do that object than some other posters here could muster in a crisis; I even hear there's a few big bridges back East with genuinely fun steel for those with the skills to get there absent needless Drama). It's a bridge, over water. Where you launch from is pointless. Perhaps, Ray, if your "BASE career" has gone so downhill that the rebel thrill of Jumping the Rail at TF - WOO HOO CRAAAAZY! - is your current apex experience. . . well that speaks for itself now don't it. There's heaps of objects in the world with heaps of twitchy, funky, scary, cool exitpoints. TF isn't one of them. It's a bridge, a nice legal bridge that's great for learning aerials to boot. What the fuck difference does it make to eschew jumping from the goddamned rail? What, you need the extra 4 feet height so you can "smoke it in baby" and impress the newbies? Try some bolder jumping, perhaps, if that's your real goal. As for the misplaced "I am such a rebel" attitude, it does make me chuckle. It's just so entirely out of place. Perhaps this is mid-life crisis or something? In which case, why don't you buy a new car or something and leave the delicate TF situation alone. I don't even jump at TF anymore and haven't for years, but it's painfully fucking obvious to me that jumping from the rail is a stupid, selfish, pointless, gutless, pathetic thing to do nowadays given the social climate down there. So if the self-appointed Cool Kids are just Too Cool For School to stay off the fucking rail, here's a concrete suggestion: I'll show you half a dozen bridges in the PNW where you can jump from the rail. You might need some actual skills to survive the jumps, but the rail's all yours. And if you do these jumps and still walk without a limp, you'll earn my respect - grudging or otherwise. In the meantime, Ray, your petulant diatribe here simply reinforces how utterly idiotic the whole "argument" is. Don't. . . jump. . . the. . . rail. . . at. . . TF. Simple enough? Cheers mate, ds +~+~+~+~ But this, surely, was the glory that no spirits, canine or human, had ever clearly seen, the light that never was on land or sea, and yet is glimpsed by the quickened mind everywhere.
  10. Dd0g

    BASE 10000 . . .

    At this risk of sounding needlessly geeky, the 1000 landmark is relevant only insofar as we choose the arbitrary 10-space numerology as our foundational reference. Were we to count BASE numbers base-16, we'd have a different picture entirely. The most "important" BASE number is the one that means something special to a particular person at a particular time. There's a few that mean alot to me, and none of them have particular base-10 attributes worth noting. They did used to be attached to some pretty fucking cool human beings, however. I guess they always will be, at least for some of us. Peace, D-d0g +~+~+~+~ But this, surely, was the glory that no spirits, canine or human, had ever clearly seen, the light that never was on land or sea, and yet is glimpsed by the quickened mind everywhere.
  11. Surfer Boy would've gotten the irony for sure, and I'm experience this fragment of cosmic convergence through his eyes. I do wonder, what would old dear RH be saying if it was somebody else who displayed a similar case of mind-bogglingly poor judgment and execution at a public BASE event? Would he be less prone to rip into them if they were badly injured (or dead)? Nope, of course not. Oh, wait, he's been reborn as a nice guy nowadays. . . right. . . I'm just dating myself remembering all the horrible, cruel, manipulative, insensitive things he has done over many years. I should join in the group-hug and get with BASE 2004. Anyway, yeah, heal up and all that crap. You've still got a date with destiny so we'd hate to see you get off so easy. Luv and kisses from your old pal, can't wait to see you soon. . . Peace, D-d0g +~+~+~+~ But this, surely, was the glory that no spirits, canine or human, had ever clearly seen, the light that never was on land or sea, and yet is glimpsed by the quickened mind everywhere.
  12. Slim. . . what can really be said of Slim that everyone else doesn't already feel in their own heart? He made me laugh so hard, so many times. He jumped every object in Portland long before I ever held a BASE rig in my hand. He was the only person of whom I ever saw Dwain in abject awe when it came to playing the BASE game "hard." He freefell the St. John's under a Mojo, a bunch of times, before he figured out it was 20 feet lower than he thought which, as Dwain would say, "explained a bit the extremely short canopy rides and crashing landings." Video of Slim arcing off Crown, Slim's triple gainers from it, Slim's slider-up there (which even Dwain thought genuinely psycho), Slim's slider-up PCA from the bridge in WA. Slim's shadow over every dodgy object in Portland. . . I knew I was getting somewhere when I started opening objects that even Slim tought were too dodgy to jump. Slim, Dwain's comrade in arms long before I ever met either of them. Slim, a legend in my mind from all the stories told, who when I met him turned out to be the kindest and most genuine of sorts. I watched Slim crawl back from a life-ending accident, helped him over the railing (ok, let's be honest, I lifted him over. . . he weighed less than a bloody pigeon at that point in his recovery) at TF his first trip back. He coached me on arcing backflips that weekend, which I muffed once or twice (scariest aerial mistakes I've ever experienced), before he couldn't resist and there he was tearin' off backs with his fragile body. If I recall correctly, he spun off four that first day before opening low under a roundie. . . all grins, as usual. Slim, trying to order food at Taco Bell in his Australian English. . . laughing so hard I thought I'd split wide open. "Two kwesadilllllllas. . . " I'd ask Dwain how Slim was doing, after that, and he'd reply in that conspiratorial voice "oh, he's genuinely fucked, but you know Slim. . . he won't admit it and he's just going on as if he can recover even though he knows he can't." Who was going to tell him otherwise? Slim asking for advice on the business climate in Oregon. Slim, not the least bit surprised to find that I had an even fancier MBA than he did. . . just positive and energetic and happy to be around folks who were doing good stuff. Slim, telling stories of the politics at the office, the challenges that were always balanced with the sense of accomplishment, the folks there he didn't like so much. . . but always more about the folks he did like, and how he enjoyed to work, all in all. Slim's bachelor party, Slim's wedding with Douggs in full regalia. Slim dancing, Slim always there when everyone else needed him. Slim warning me to lay off the bandit jumps in Malaysia. . . and Slim laughing right along with me at how amazingly silly that very concept was coming from his mouth. Slim asking "how'd they go, last night" when Tom and I rolled into the morning jumps a few hours late, tired but full of smiles. Dwain helping to edit Slim's book of BASE history on his laptop while he and I drove all night to some dodgy object. . . reading the chapters out loud, expanding on the stories Slim was telling, pointing out the minor errors but always proud that Slim was willing and able to tell it like it was, as it really happened. Where did Slim's book go? Probably gone now, I mean who really wants to drudge up those old times nowadays. . . better to gloss over the sharp edges, remember "the past" as a Rockwell-esque patina of happy smiley folks who never had a care. Slim didn't buy into that crap, his book was brutally honest about all of us, himself included. Slim was one of the few folks who could tell Dwain when he was simply being a petulant ass and Dwain would listen and shape up. Slim was a leader without ever trying to be, an inspiration too busy with life to notice, and a legend long before he left us behind for good. Slim, there was nobody else like him. I haven't spoken a word to Slim since Dwain killed himself, but I knew that when the time was right he and I would sit down and sort it all out. He was Slim, see, and he had a way like that. Slim could've told me why everything was ok, why the world was still bright and beautiful, why it all made sense. I was counting on it, counting on Slim, as always. Nik, Lukas, Dwain, Slim. . . beautiful human beings, gone forever. Dwain said life is for the living. . . that's a much easier thing to say when you are dead, isn't it? Slim was a giant of a man and the world without his light is a much, much darker place. How much darker can it really get? Peace, Z-d0g +~+~+~+~ But this, surely, was the glory that no spirits, canine or human, had ever clearly seen, the light that never was on land or sea, and yet is glimpsed by the quickened mind everywhere.
  13. Fuck. ds +~+~+~+~ But this, surely, was the glory that no spirits, canine or human, had ever clearly seen, the light that never was on land or sea, and yet is glimpsed by the quickened mind everywhere.
  14. Dd0g

    Gotta chuckle

    Life is nothing if not ironic. . . Yours truly nearly joined the illustrious list of the dearly departed yesterday skydiving, of all things. One of those AAD gizmos malfunctioned and fired a reserve (roundie, no less) into a perfectly-functioning main as we dipped below 1000 feet to dirt. Who knew that two canopies were so likely to result in an uncontrolled spin. . . cutting away at the Perrine never felt so good, though roundies just don't flare like a Mojo. My already-thin career as a skydiver just doesn't seem to be taking off. Oh, well, BASE it is. It's sure nice to live on a farm surrounded by a lifetime's supply of virgin backcountry vertical terrain. Peace, D-d0g +~+~+~+~ But this, surely, was the glory that no spirits, canine or human, had ever clearly seen, the light that never was on land or sea, and yet is glimpsed by the quickened mind everywhere.
  15. I thought you "quit," pansy. What's the problem, are you too incompetent to even quit without fucking that up, as well? Don't worry, JJ, every time you spout bullshit to some unsuspecting journalist, I will be there to correct the record. Always. I guess it's true, the only thing you've ever done successfully is be a liar. . . and, even there, failure looms. I wish he'd have hit you, the world would be a better place. Peace, D. Spink +~+~+~+~ But this, surely, was the glory that no spirits, canine or human, had ever clearly seen, the light that never was on land or sea, and yet is glimpsed by the quickened mind everywhere.
  16. What I "think" isn't of relevance here. Anybody who hasn't discussed the details of this fatality with me firsthand doesn't have anywhere near enough data to have a substantive opinion on this issue. It is sad when something like Dwain's death is turned into a circus of argument and conflict; that's why I just stopped talking about it with other jumpers. Though, I'm certainly not the only one who knows what actually happened in Colorado - your unawareness of that further lays bare your relative removal from the situation. It's sort of like Brian's death; there was so much dust kicked up in the barrage of personal attacks launched (primarily at Dwain, but also at Nik and myself) by the opportunistic little prick from Perris that the actual facts of the fatality got blurred so badly that many people thought there was substantive disagreement about what happened. There was no disagreement, not from those who were there and who saw the forensic evidence firsthand. However, even Dwain stopped fighting to clarify the truth after a while; there's a point of negative returns, personally, for that type of struggle. However, even if a big chunk of the herd convinces itself that the sky is green, it doesn't make the sky any less blue. It's often a thankless task to work to set forth a truth that few want to hear, and quite a few would prefer to keep under wraps. Add in the emotional cost and wounds to those of us close enough to know what really happened, and nobody's really going to "argue" with the uneducated masses about it. So, "believe" what you will; heck, believe that gravity doesn't work, for all I care. That won't change gravity from working, and it won't change the facts of Dwain's death. D. Spink +~+~+~+~ But this, surely, was the glory that no spirits, canine or human, had ever clearly seen, the light that never was on land or sea, and yet is glimpsed by the quickened mind everywhere.
  17. I appreciate your words, Bryan. The thing is that, in terms of Dwain's death, 99% of the way it played out is unknown to 99% of jumpers. I've stated the facts publicly, and been attacked and threatened (which is funny, all things considered) in a most aggressive and intense manner. I also saw my comments on the reality of his death censored off of this board and elsewhere - ironic, really. So, basically, last year I just let the whole goddamned mess go and went on with my life and my jumping. Some injuries are so severe that they take months to even begin healing. However, in walking away from the details of his death and the events surrounding it. . . I didn't forget them, and I never will. I don't know - to this day - how to really make sense of what happened, and no I am not "at peace" with the whole damned mess, not one bit. Seeing some of the key players in that drama pop up in the press lately, spewing on about Dwain's "tragic" death, that's just too much for me to take sitting down. . . and it probably always will be. Seeing a fatality in my backyard this week that was so predictable that Dwain was telling me to watch out for it back in 2001 just adds to the ennui. Seeing nobody really dive in and question WHY a low-time jumper was wingsuiting off an advanced backcountry cliff with no experienced mentors and insufficient training just reminds me that many of those who would have done this in the past - and who helped to keep us honest in our sport - are dead and gone now, and none of us left is really filling their shoes (myself included). Perhaps nobody will. So, if I read into Nick's comments about Dwain something that wasn't intended, this I regret. However, Nick knows some of the facts about his death and he must surely know that bringing his name up in that type of context is bound to be tinder-dry, explosive material to those of us who lived that nightmare firsthand. Some things we just don't joke about, even in a good-natured way, while the wounds are still raw and for a long time afterwards. Anybody who knew Dwain also knew that - for all his exuberant ego-centric foolishness - he was deeply, intensely respectful of the early poineers of the sport. As someone who had jumped for nearly a decade - 30% of his life, and more than half of his adult live - he did give a huge amount of himself to BASE. And the lasting legacy of what he gave isn't the "flippy do and twisty flip" stuff (as he termed it); it was the technical improvements he gave for free to every gear manufacturer in the sport, never asking for nor receiving a dime in return (he did get heaps of demo gear, some quite nice and some beyond dodgy). Vented canopies. Valves. Fifth upper control lines. Tracking pants. The list goes on. . . he didn't "invent" any of them (and didn't care to be credited with invention or much else in the tech side of things), but he did work tirelessly to propogage sound gear tech ideas and actions. In doing so, he did revolutionize BASE for everyone who jumps today. Unlike others, he never tried to make a living doing it, never charged his many students a dime, never tried to grab a buck from his lifetime's work in BASE. This is why seeing his name as a sort of "newbie icon" target, as Nick cast him above, is just insulting. Dwain was jumping in the early '90s, doing sub-200 foot freefalls over hard ground in the mid-90s. He pushed the sport for years and years, and any "newbie" today who takes him as their role model is, indeed, well-served. He's far from a media creation. . . he NEVER sold a second of footage to the TeeVee crews (unlike certain other SoCal jumpers who live quite lavisly off the media whore). He had fatality footage unlike anything else out there, and he destroyed it as it was hurtful and painful to the families and to him. I can think of a few other people that make quite good "icons" for a sort of juvenile, media-obsessed BASE. . . but Dwain just isn't one of them. No less than Nik himself, Dwain was no angel. . . he was haunted by the price the sport made him pay, up until the day he died. He could be bitter and angry and resentful and yes lazy. He was human, but the side of him that touched all of us in BASE was nothing to laugh at, or make fun of. . . not yet, anyway. I'd not joke about Carl Boenish's death, nor about Jean's problems with PC location. . . it's just not funny, not even "funny." Some things don't make good fodder for jokes. To wit, my "jokes" about Nick weren't very funny, were they? That's how the shoe feels when it's on the other foot. Peace comes through acceptance, and I'm nowhere near accepting how things played out after Dwain flew into that bridge in Colorado last year. Several people in this sport have a great deal to answer for, to this day - they owe apologies to Dwain's family, above all else, for the lies they told them (lies of statement and of omission), and they owe the memory of Dwain the honest truth about how he chose to die. Regards, D. Spink +~+~+~+~ But this, surely, was the glory that no spirits, canine or human, had ever clearly seen, the light that never was on land or sea, and yet is glimpsed by the quickened mind everywhere.
  18. Wrong, you don't. It's not about "me," though perhaps you aren't able to read English and figure that out for yourself. It's about respect for friends, particularly dead friends that can no longer speak for themselves. Bitter? Yeah, well I'll be happy to hear your feedback on my mental state when you've walked in my shoes for a few miles. That is, take your best friend, have him commit suicide, know you could have prevented it, and stir. That's a start. Mix in a heap more fatalities, then stir with a whole boxful 'o knives in the back from "friends" without integrity or respect. That's the appetizer, then we'll get to the main course. I'm not bitter, I've just got a whole lot more miles under the hood than you, is all. . . and those miles teach some painful lessons. One you've lived that, you're qualified to tell me if I'm doing well or not. In the meantime, I'm not sure you know a damned thing about the situation. I'm doin' just fine by me, thank you, and I don't give a shit if the self-sacred world of online circle jerking thinks I'm kewl or not. Sorry, not the measuring stick I use. Anyway, Nick's pathetic slam against a friend of mine was certainly well-received by the little gang of coolies that hangs out here, wasn't it? Doubly pathetic that not one of you can read those cruel words he wrote and think they are wrong. Or say so. Talent? I'm alive, that's talent enough for me after the last few years. The rest of it's gravy, and given that you don't a damned thing about me personally, that's a subject beyond you at present. I'm tired of the syncophantic, self-righteous, self-censored crap that gets smeared across these pages day in and day out. To wit, where's the substantive discussion of this week's fatality? Absent and unaccounted for, is where it is - either nobody is smart enough to ask the questions that beg to be asked, or nobody has the balls to do it. Either way, it's fucking pathetic. That fatality is such a goddamned red flag for anybody who isn't colorblind, but I guess nobody here knows what the color red means. As I said, it's a shame so many of the good ones are dead. . . the sport is far poorer for it. D. Spink ps: Hate isn't always bad; maybe they teach that in kindergarten, and maybe Oprah says so, but in the world of blood and guts some of us hate when people disrespect our genuine friends. I'll let it go when the scales are evened, no sooner and no later. You might not have much to hate in your own insulated world, and I hope you never have to venture out into the badlands and find out firsthand that not everybody's your friend, and not all stories have happy endings. +~+~+~+~ But this, surely, was the glory that no spirits, canine or human, had ever clearly seen, the light that never was on land or sea, and yet is glimpsed by the quickened mind everywhere.
  19. I can't quite parse whether this was intended to be insulting to a dead jumper, just reads as if it were intented to be insulting, or is simply incredibly tactless and without empathy. Perhaps we should have an entirely different dimension here, with the following entry: Type "A" (for "asshole"): These jumpers fell of a few things years ago, and ever since then their entire identity and self-worth is measured by how low their BASE number is. They never pioneered anything particular in the sport; their claim to "fame" (for it is a tiny and pathetic fame indeed) is that they lucked into meeting a true pioneer who taught them the sport back then. But their lack of actual contribution to the sport (beyond self-aggrandizement, and that sister to it which is the breathless hyperbole they rant whenever taking about other people with a number as small as theirs) doesn't stop them from designating themselves "mouthpiece," "conscience," or best yet "Official Historian" of our sport. Sure, the actual sport of BASE passed by their own skill level years if not decades ago. Sure, they might not even know where the current state of the art is in the sport. Sure, they might not actually even jump anymore. Still, they cling to that all-important (to them) early BASE number. Still, they don't hesitate to talk smack about other jumpers who stood head and shoulders above them when alive and contributing to the sport. . . and will always stand tall, even in death, compared to these moronic fools. How's that for a good "Type," Nick? Sound familiar? You want to go drop a turd on somebody, have the nuts to do it to a jumper who is still alive to call your bluff. I'd think that was more or less obvious ethics, but I guess people with cool BASE numbers don't have to bother with such nonsense. Want to know what Dwain's number was? Most folks don't know it (nor Nik's, incidentally) because they didn't run about blaring it from the rooftops. It wasn't in their signature file, or in their email address, or written in permanent marker on their forehead. They didn't think they were "cooler" than other people (jumpers or not) because their number was lower. They measured themselves by how they treated others who they respected, and whose respect they had earned through their actions. Maybe you never quite got that lesson, but some of us fortunate enough to know them and consider them friends did. In sum, because they had some goddamned class. . . something you appear to have either never learned in the first place, or lost somewhere along the path of life. Too bad so many of the really amazing people in our sport are dead, and so many of the bottom-feeders are too busy stroking themselves to actually risk anything by doing much other than typing on a keyboard. D. Spink +~+~+~+~ But this, surely, was the glory that no spirits, canine or human, had ever clearly seen, the light that never was on land or sea, and yet is glimpsed by the quickened mind everywhere.
  20. Dd0g

    Incident in Wa. ?

    Well spoken. In honor of other lost brothers, here's am email that DW circulated in early August last year. . . it was one of the last I received form him before he left us behind. Peace, D-d0g ------------------------------------- I know most of you have read the attached email before, but non-the-less it's interesting to read again today (and it's about the only coherent email we ever received from Nik that was longer than two lines). Other Nik quotes that randomly come to mind: "I think she fancies me" (About any female he had just met - mostly waitresses) "First pint and ground crew on us" (In regards to potential visiting BASE jumpers. In actuality it was pint: yes, ground crew: no) "I hate people" (When he was on one of his manic tirades) "You owe me big time" (When he did anything for you) "Cheers Love" & "Up ya bum" (Usual drinking sayings) "This has got bad idea written all over it" (When he was about to do anything fun) --- [email protected] wrote: > From: [email protected] > Date: Thu, 20 Jun 2002 13:07:16 EDT > Subject: Thankyou for Sharing > > After talking to literally thousands of familys and > friends of loved ones > that visit my office every day,,,one could theorize > that death's cold hand > can calous the soul...nothing further from the > truth....just lends a hand to > a greater appreciation of life. > > No right way > No wrong way...to deal with death. > > All I've learnt is that it's important to respond to > it and not ignore it's > bitter taste........each in his own way...reminding > one to turn around and > smile with the ones you cherish. > > "I am in blood stepp'd in so far, that should I wade > no more, returning were > as tedious as go o'er.." > Macbeth Act III, Scene 4 > > Cheers > Nik
  21. Dd0g

    Incident in Wa. ?

    We're sending positive energy and good thoughts from up North. It's a terrible thing, and words don't make it better. Peace, D-d0g +~+~+~+~ But this, surely, was the glory that no spirits, canine or human, had ever clearly seen, the light that never was on land or sea, and yet is glimpsed by the quickened mind everywhere.
  22. Dd0g

    BASE Article

    One must stand in awe at the truly brazen display of bullshit that dear Karin displays in this particular fluff-piece. Perhaps she thinks that if the same garbage is repeated enough times that it will inch closer to being true. Such is not the case; dishonesty doesn't wash clean. I dropped a note to the author of the piece, clarifying the actual circumstances surrounding Dwain's death. Somehow, I'm not surprised that Karin couldn't quite muster the courage to speak the truth. I doubt she ever will. Perhaps the plan is that she and Jeb can become the TeeVee stars they've always dreamed of being? What price fame? Well, disregard for honesty I suppose is the down payment. Some of us haven't forgotten, haven't pretended, haven't stuck our heads in the sand. . . and NEVER will. Ciao from the Land of Integrity, D-d0g +~+~+~+~ But this, surely, was the glory that no spirits, canine or human, had ever clearly seen, the light that never was on land or sea, and yet is glimpsed by the quickened mind everywhere.
  23. Sincere condolences to family and friends. Many of us have bitter memories of loss from that exit, and I hope folks will read carefully the advice regarding this jump that others have posted here. Peace, D-d0g +~+~+~+~ But this, surely, was the glory that no spirits, canine or human, had ever clearly seen, the light that never was on land or sea, and yet is glimpsed by the quickened mind everywhere.
  24. Condolences to friends and family. A sad loss, whatever the circumstances. There are times when going stowed is objectively safer than handheld. While the manufacturers might not recommend, some of those same manufacturers also say their gear isn't designed for sub-300 foot jumping at all. Perhaps sound advice at some level, but disconnected from the reality of current jumping procedure and knowledge. Peace, D-d0g +~+~+~+~ But this, surely, was the glory that no spirits, canine or human, had ever clearly seen, the light that never was on land or sea, and yet is glimpsed by the quickened mind everywhere.
  25. Dd0g

    oregon base

    No disrespect to previous generations, though I was referring to "senior jumpers" and not really "the list of people who at one point or another have been Oregon jumpers and who may or may not be jumping right now." Note also that I didn't use the word "most," as you did. My exact words were "a big percentage," which of course is worthlessly vague in and of itself. My semantic nitpicking aside, your words are well spoken. Peace, D-d0g +~+~+~+~ But this, surely, was the glory that no spirits, canine or human, had ever clearly seen, the light that never was on land or sea, and yet is glimpsed by the quickened mind everywhere.