If the Sweet Bird sings late, Fate lives….

Ffolkes,
Dark events are wont to take place under indifferent moons, which is why I make it a policy never to be out at the same time as a moon. This can be a tough policy to follow on a planet with six moons…. which is why I found myself in a meadow surrounded by tall oaks and madrone imported from legendary Earth, leaves shining in the pearly light, four miles from town in the dead of night, shivering under three of those bloody fake planets masquerading as moons, and watching morosely as a platoon of dark-clad Stank warriors silently filed into the clearing, laser-spears gleaming, to join the rest of us idiots. I could see, already, this was not going to be one of my nights, and I was seriously regretting my weakness in agreeing to join this mad party…..

Well, enough of that…. whoever that was, it doesn’t look like he’ll be having much fun for the next unknown period, so we’ll just leave him to his own devices, and get on with this morning’s real business, the fine art of hunting the creative urge, to trap, hopefully not to kill. T’is a wicked shy beastie, is creativity, and fond of leading me on long, winding chases in the dim morning light. It knows full well that I don’t sleep well, or deeply, and delights in taking advantage of the poor old fat guy who can no longer run very fast….. but, I’m getting smarter in my dotage, so to speak, and have learned to carry some of its favorite food, flattery cakes, which, given the chance, I can use to lure it close enough to use my magic lasso (the one I got from Wonder Woman, that time I loaned her a safety pin to keep her from having a wardrobe malfunction, just as she was getting ready to kick ass on the Penguin…..)  SIGH…. it makes for an interesting morning, but I kind of miss commuting…. NOT!

Having thus fulfilled the government-controlled and regulated daily quota of BS (who else would be in charge of it?), we will now Pearl……
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All we are saying.. is Give Peas a Chance.

This is the bumper sticker I put on my six year old Chivvy Mule…. it complements the one on my Old Bike, that says, “Visualize Whirled Peas”. Both were designed and distributed for sale by the Whirled Peas Institute, a division of the Peas Porridge Hot Corporation, makers of fine cliches and elegant bumper accessories for the entire coven. With their ages-old motto, “Pining for Peas!”, which adorns the dignified Giant Pea Pod atop the whirled-famous Peas HQ in downtown Beirut, shining out of the 75 foot high testament to good taste with cheerful hope, this beloved company stands as an example of the power of Hope, and the profit margins to be made from its devotees among the ignorant masses….

This advertisement is brought to you courtesy of a grant by the Lizzie/Ginger Corp., with supporting funds from Linda Vernon, Inc., that fine old international firm dedicated to bringing humor and insanity to those who need it most. Normally, (if that term can be applied to ANYTHING they do….) they don’t give grants, but this one also serves as a bribe, for advancing their claims as Heiresses of World Domination in the Whirled courts….. a project they have set their sights on for some time now…. encouraged shamelessly by both El Guapo and yours truly, (from whom they will inherit, if they’ll just hold their damn horses…..), using mainly under-funded household accounts sadly neglected by their long-suffering spousal units. Provided all of us can get our shit anywhere close to together, the transfer of power should take place before Christmas…. BUT NOT IF THEY KEEP WHINING ABOUT HOW LONG IT’S TAKING!  CAPISCE, CHICAS?!!!  We now return you to your regularly scheduled nonsense….
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According to experts, the oyster
In its shell – a crustacean cloister –
May frequently be
Either he or a she
Or both, if it should be its choice ter.

The die has been cast, and all dignity and sense is to be avoided at all cost today…. it’s a tough job, but somebody’s got to do it…. You gotta love limericks…. they have to be one of the finest ways to stretch the mind through poetry there is, to my mind. Limericks join Haiku, along with the works of Ogden Nash, Shel Silverstein, Robert Frost, and a very few others, as those literary forms that are completely user-friendly. Anyone can learn to write limericks, or haiku, and learn to do it well. Not everyone may be able to match the creativity and precise outlook of these three sterling examples of this genre, which I like to call the People’s Poems, but just about anyone can make poetry that will please them and others, if only for its uniqueness. I don’t know about others, but writing a good haiku, or limerick, makes me feel pretty damn good…. and it’s a good way to meet like minded folks…. hell, it probably would help bring about whirled peas, if the whole whirled could just see it, and join in the fun….
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“You have to realize that the government, any government, is insane.  You have to treat it the way pagans treated their gods:  As an irrational, capricious, and powerful entity which will mete out total destruction if not sacrificed to or otherwise placated.” — Mike Long (future Libertarian revolutionary)

Okay, so I couldn’t stay funny for a whole post…. so sue me. Wait! Scratch that…. these days, somebody might just take me up on it, claiming cruel and unusual punishment, or some such…. any who, the above statement makes far too much sense to dismiss lightly. Considering my belief that anyone who desires to assume the position of POTUS, or any other similar position of power over others, is, by definition, stark raving mad, this proposition makes perfect sense to me.

As a true Patriot of this country, one who is completely dedicated to protecting the US Constitution and the Bill of Rights, I regard it as sacred Duty to do all I can to prevent any further inroads on the rights we were given as our legacy. These American pundits, who seek office, and power over others, like an addict seeks his needle, are the most dangerous threat our country has faced in over two hundred years. Our Founding Fathers even predicted this; I’ve read several letters from one of them to another, cautioning against the danger to these principles from internal sources. They even identified the most probable culprits, corporations and banks, and those who took their money (definition of an honest politician: one who stays bought…) …. even then, such entities were regarded with mistrust and suspicion as to their motives.

Thus, it becomes not just preference, but Duty, to speak out when new outrages are committed against the principles of freedom, to fight against ignorance, and avarice, and the unholy forces of Indifference with all my faculties and skills. If I, and anyone else who also fears what these people would do in the name of the Almighty Dollar, do not speak up, if we do not fight the modern trend toward apathy and despair, then we will deserve the slavery we accept by so failing to act…….

“Anyway, no drug, not even alcohol, causes the fundamental ills of society. If we’re looking for the source of our troubles, we shouldn’t test people for drugs, we should test them for stupidity, ignorance, greed and love of power.” — P.J. O’Rourke

“A ‘No’ uttered from deepest conviction is better and greater than a ‘Yes’ merely uttered to please, or what is worse, to avoid trouble.” — Mahatma Gandhi
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In the interests of consistency, that hobgoblin, and of continuing today’s attempt to stick to a theme, I present the following, which, though found without any attribution (how could anyone not be proud enough of this to want their name on it?), remains the perfect addition to a lineup that has not merely approached wacky, but left it in the dust….

The sky was dark, the moon was high
All alone just she and I
Her hair was soft, her eyes were blue
I knew just what she wanted to do
Her skin so soft, her legs so fine
I ran my fingers down her spine
I didn’t know how but I tried my best
I started by placing my hands on her breast
I remember my fear, my fast beating heart
But slowly she spread her legs apart
And when I did it I felt no shame
All at once – the white stuff came
At last it’s finished, it’s all over now
My first time ever at milking a cow…

It got me…. how ’bout you? I just wish I knew who wrote it, so I could find more like it….. delicious!….
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Three poets, in three distant ages born,
Greece, Italy, and England did adorn.
The first in loftiness of thought surpass’d;
The next, in majesty; in both the last.
The force of Nature could no further go;
To make a third, she join’d the former two.
— John Dryden (1631-1700) — Under Mr. Milton’s Picture

Do what you wanna, do what you will;
Just don’t mess up your neighbor’s thrill.
And when you pay the bill, kindly leave a little tip
To help the next poor sucker on his one-way trip.
— Frank Zappa, You Are What You Is

Our souls sit close and silently within,
And their own web from their own entrails spin;
And when eyes meet far off, our sense is such,
That, spider-like, we feel the tenderest touch.
— John Dryden (1631-1700) — Mariage a la Mode, Act ii, Sc. 1

John Dryden… 10 letters…. Frank Zappa… 10 letters…. John Milton… 10 letters….Coincidence?…. I think not….. further unquestionable evidence of reincarnation, or at least, serendipity, wouldn’t you say?……
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I can only hope that today’s unexpected, but welcome, outburst of whimsy has no deleterious effect on the remainder of my ephemeral consciousness on this diurnal interval, although there are worse ways to spend the day than with furious spates of capriciousness and unadulterated fun. Let’s follow the wisest course, of expecting nothing, and appreciating whatever does turn up…. Y’all take care out there…..


Sometimes I sits and thinks,
and sometimes
I just sits.

gigoid

Kowabunga!

19 thoughts on “If the Sweet Bird sings late, Fate lives….

  1. LOLs, an excellant read to end the day with…..
    Thanks for being you in your writings!

    Take Care….
    )0(

  2. Ned– never a dull moment.! I enjoyed this post even more than usual and not just because you were kind enough to mention me — though I must say it did add to the overall enjoyment! The cow! Holy Cow! I started raising my eyebrows half way through . . . Fell for it hook, line and sinker!

    “These American pundits, who seek office, and power over others, like an addict seeks his needle, are the most dangerous threat our country has faced in over two hundred years.”

    So well said and unfortunately so true!

    Anyway so much here to think on, Ned. Great writing.

    • 🙂 Thanks, Linda! Great to hear, especially from a good writer such as yourself… the cow piece was sheer genius, wasn’t it? I’m tempted to claim it, since it wasn’t attributed where I found it, but my Dad would notice, so I won’t (he passed away some 30 years ago, but he still determines my moral stance on most issues….powerful lessons I got from him…. ) And the pundits aren’t confined to the wanna-be’s anymore…. even Barack has been busy signing away our rights again…. sickening developments out there making the rounds….

      • I don’t even like to think what this world is coming to . . .literally. And what a nice tribute to your dad. It’s nice to hear when someone loves and respects their father and his influence. 🙂

        • 🙂 I had little choice in the matter, not that I wanted or needed one… when I was born, he was a Master Sergeant in the US Army, and the central figure in the entire family’s lives, including my mother, 2 brothers, and 2 sisters, all of whom respected and adored him… and vice versa… I was indeed fortunate in my choice of parentage….

          • Wow! How nice! What a great life you had growing up I’ll bet. Oh and I also bet you’ve got some really great stories too. You shoudl write a novel based on your life growing up.

          • Good thought, and one that strangely enough had not occurred to me before you said it… but, you may be right… I learned a lot of stuff other kids were never tuned into, as I found out when I went to schools off base first time at age 11…. by which time I’d lived on five different bases all over the west coast, as well as in Japan. Military kids get a whole different education than civilian kids do, for sure…. so maybe I will… thanks!…. I’ll dedicate the first book to you, if it ever gets to print, okay?… 🙂

          • Ah! Really? Thank you! But I do think it would make a really good book –you’ve already got my interest with “military kids get a whole different education than civillian kids do”. Now I want to know why. Plus all the places you’ved lived. You’ve gotta do it! That’s all there is to it.

          • Well… that’ll learn me…. 🙂 I’ll jump right on that, in all my copious free time…. actually, I can’t use that one anymore, cuz copious free time is ALL I have…. but, that’s okay, because you may have pressed the right button to actually get me going on this… it sounds like something I’ve been percolating in the back of my mind all along… very deja vu kind of feeling, really…. time will tell….

            As for the difference in education, one word will give you an idea…. how many civilian kids of age 6 not only know the word “protocol”, but have learned to follow its rules without thought, with adults, teachers, other kids, and anyone in authority… they know who gets a “yes sir” or a “no, ma’am”, who goes through the door first, how to talk politely on the phone, and all the places kids don’t go… and they don’t argue about any of it…. at age 5 I could bounce a quarter off my freshly made bed two feet high; at age 7 I was fully trained in firearms safety, I could make a tent out of a blanket, a rope, and some sticks, and one my proudest moments came when I got my first “recruit buzz” at the barber shop…. I joined the big kids that day…. 🙂 Ah, yes, dreaming of tanks…. a bit different, eh? Fun, though, and never lonely in a house with five kids….

          • Oh that’s so cool Ned. I do think the timing is right. Now that you’ve got your writing all oiled up with your regular posts, well . . . there’s no time ike the present –And you are really prolific so it won’t take you that long. I say go for it!!

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