Monthly Archives: April 2012

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More to spread far and wide, folks… if this doesn’t touch you, you need to reassess yourself ….

willowdot21's avatarwillowdot21

Oh! I am tired my feet ache, I think these high heels are torture. Mind you they’re not as bad as  the way men stink.

God it  itches and it burns. Now it bleeds  when I pee but I have to smile when the stinking men do things to me.

See my sister she is barely twelve I have had  to teach her how to dip and delve. It makes me sick what I have had to show her to do but she needs to do it right or she will get beaten black blue.

I am so tired I worked all night through. I didn’t earn enough, so to keep the boss sweet I have to work today too. I am sure I have lice in my hair it is driving me mad but the boss don’t care. I asked for something to sort it out he just slapped…

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Even aged literati won’t bow or scrape before six….

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Ffolkes,
At 0607 in the morning, I don’t expect my reaction time to be at maximum, nor am I be surprised to find my mind less than fully awake and prepared for immediate use, at least not for any use of sustained duration, or of a complex nature. But, it is a bit embarrassing to sit here and watch the screen-saver come on, while vacantly staring at the screen, and to still be frantically searching the empty, echoing corridors of my thus-far uninspired mind for an opening statement or idea. I have the screen saver set to come on after 3 minutes of no user activity, so I am forced to admit that I sat here and blankly stared for at least that long. Pathetic…..

On further reflection, however, I can see that having the screen-saver pop on has acted as some sort of release, or stimulation, if you will, and the words are now flowing. I guess serendipity comes in different colors and shapes after all…. whatever the case may be, I’ll take it.

I’ve learned not to question such little gifts from the universe; if I did, they might cease to happen, and so far, they’ve been responsible for some of my best work (and, in fact, have often been responsible for the creation of ANY work at all…..). Now, if I could only see what to write about next, I’d be good to go…… can’t have everything, I suppose. As Steven Wright said, “Of course you can’t have everything. Where would you put it all?”

Since I already lack sufficient storage space, we’ll just get on with the business at hand….. shall we Pearl?…
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We cannot direct the wind, but we can adjust the sails. — Proverb

This is the sort of pearl that is much, much deeper than it appears at first glance. (Note: It seems common to find the most complex and deep issues described or related in very short sentences. Hmm…. probably something to do with K.I.S.S., which the universe believes in strongly…) Applied as a metaphor for human interactions with reality, the proverb assumes an even greater degree of relevance, as it implies both choice and hope. Both are always present, but not always in view; such aphorisms as this can help one to find where they are standing, hidden in plain sight…

It is clear to most by now that reality does not adjust to our desires; any adjustments made must be on our part, as we have absolutely no power to change any aspect of reality other than our response to it. A hard lesson, one that many never learn, or come to terms with, and one which guarantees they will find life to be one long struggle, as they spend their days in doomed attempts to make what is into what they wish it to be. To use the analogy provided, they never learn to trim the sails of their vessel, and find themselves constantly fighting with, and cursing, the wind, never realizing their own lack of understanding is what sends them into uncharted waters.

Thus, from simplicity does great wisdom arise; to reach our desired destination in life, one must learn to trim and adjust the sails of our vessel, to make the best use of the wind that the universe sends in our direction. Or, more plainly, we can only make changes to ourselves, not to reality. Learning this one simple lesson can turn a life out of balance completely around, and give it the direction and stability it has ever sought, enabling the most troubled soul to sail into the light, and out of the darkness that engulfs those who argue with reality…..
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“I think the sky is blue because it’s a shift from black through purple to blue, and it has to do with where the light is.   You know, the farther we get into darkness, and there’s a shifting of color of light into the blueness, and I think as you go farther and farther away from the reflected light we have from the sun or the light that’s bouncing off this earth, uh, the darker it gets … I think if you look at the color scale, you start at black, move it through purple, move it on out, it’s the shifting of color.  We mentioned before about the stars singing, and that’s one of the effects of the shifting of colors.” — Pat Robertson, The 700 Club

At last! The true, unacknowledged, but obvious, proof of how the concept of Christian Science came to be…… This has to be one of the finest examples I’ve ever seen of a man who, a) had no idea when he started to speak of what he meant to say, and b) opted to “fake it” and just make something up. Pat has apparently been listening to his own hype, and is convinced that, if it comes out of his mouth, it must be divinely inspired….

I imagine that the God that Pat claims to speak for lets him get away with shit like this because He is too busy laughing His divine Ass off to do anything about it. No point in throwing the lightning bolt too long after the causal event; no one would get the lesson. Plus, why give up such a cheap form of entertainment?….. It’s not like Hee Haw, or Laugh In, is still on the air….. and I imagine even God needs a break every so often from listening to Pat, or Oral, or Jim-boy, to keep from frying them in their tracks on live TV…. even He thinks twice about scaring the cattle, er, paying customers, er, congregation……
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“The greater your need to make a good catch, the greater the probability your partner will deliver his worst throw.  (If you can’t touch it, you can’t trick it.)” — The Ninth Commandment of Frisbee — Dan Roddick

Ah, sweet memory! I’ve previously mentioned my status as a hippie, forged during the late 1960’s in Berkeley, at the UC where I attended post-high-school. My life and times in the birthplace of hippie culture during this era of societal change imbued me with a true and complete set of hippie skills and attributes. I play guitar and sing folk music. I wear my hair long. I am politically active, dedicated to peace, brotherhood, and love. And, I am a master of the Frisbee. Well, used to be. Now I’d probably throw myself into a world of hurt if I even made the simplest toss, even if I warmed up first. But, back in the day, (what does that mean, exactly? Which day?….. slang is funky sometimes….) trick catches were one of my specialties, and I can attest to the accuracy of the Ninth Commandment.

One of my best tricks involved a softly hovering throw that approaches the catcher on a level about waist high. I would first kick the disc in the center, on the fly, knocking it straight up, but keeping it spinning in a hover. I’d then step under it, and bump it as it came down, right in the center again, with the top of my head. It went up again, and as it came down, still spinning, I’d strike it with one finger, again in the center, to send it back up again. On the fourth time the disc descended, I would catch it on one finger, in the center, and watch it spin there until I flipped it up and grabbed it with a flourish, or just let the spin run out and let it hang on the finger as it stopped.

In reading back over that passage, I can see that it would definitely be more impressive to see than it is to read…… but, it sure felt good when I nailed the trick, and it invariably impressed any girls in the vicinity; at 19 or 20 years-old, that was key….. especially if I hit the immediate throw back to my compatriot with a double-skip, right to his moving target…. Always a crowd-pleaser, the double-skip…
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A programmer from a very large computer company went to a software conference and then returned to report to his manager, saying: “What sort of programmers work for other companies? They behaved badly and were unconcerned with appearances.  There hair was long and unkempt and their clothes were wrinkled and old. They crashed our hospitality suite and they made rude noises during my presentation.”

The manager said: “I should have never sent you to the conference. Those programmers live beyond the physical world. They consider life absurd, an accidental coincidence. They come and go without knowing limitations. Without a care, they live only for their programs. Why should they bother with social conventions?”

They are alive within the Tao.

Yesterday, a short discussion was posted here on the subject of hacker culture, and the myths and philosophy popular among those who program computers, the ones who write the programs the rest of us use every day…. This pseudo koan exemplifies the type of thinking that permeates the culture, perfectly describing how true hackers see themselves.

As a group, hackers are highly educated in comparison to the general population, and share a certain predilection for science fiction and fantasy literature and media, mythology, philosophy, (particularly Zen Buddhism and Taoism), and properly spoken and written English (very important in computer programming; computers are VERY literal, and precise use of the language is a key element of creating successful programs, i.e. programs that actually perform as requested….) Hacker jargon assumes a deep knowledge of the subjects pertinent to them, and shows not vicious, but amused disdain for “normals”. Ambitions among hackers involve successful hacks, or writing the code for a major OS, or some other piece of programming that achieves industry-wide acceptance and acclimation; to become a demi-god is the ultimate goal, one whose name is familiar to anyone who writes code.

Contrary to many segments of society at large, where too much education creates mistrust, and the most admired qualities are simplicity and acquiescence to being average, in hacker culture, complexity, elegance, wit, a defiant roguishness, and strong math skills are qualities admired by all, and the status of demi-god is sought after assiduously by every individual who considers themselves to be a true programmer…. and demi-gods aren’t required, or expected, to act like normal folks….

“The computer programmer is a creator of universes for which he alone is responsible. Universes of virtually unlimited complexity can be created in the form of computer programs.” — Joseph Weizenbaum, _Computer Power and Human Reason_
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“And if it please you, so; if not, why, so.” — William Shakespeare (1564-1616), The Two Gentlemen of Verona — Act ii, Sc. 1

Okay, so we all know how Will the Thrill failed to make my most wanted list by now, so I won’t go into that. But, more evidence in my argument’s favor keeps cropping up, and this is a fine example. Though I know it is likely a bit clearer if taken in context to the surrounding action in the play, still, this line is just about as obscure as can be. I’m certain that the reaction from the audiences who first were exposed to this was the same as mine; I immediately thought, upon reading it, “HUH? What did you say?” My next thoughts were, in approximate order, “Let me outta here! I’m late for an appointment! I hear my mom calling! I’m on a mission from God! Anything! Just don’t make me listen to that again!”

Perhaps I can make myself clearer re: this opinion by making a small analogy. If Will The Middle English Thrill were alive today, who do you think he would most resemble, in terms of his fame, his literary and/or entertainment skills and accomplishments, and his overall status as a celebrity?  In my inner eye, a picture of Michael Jackson and Madonna fight over who is to pop up first. That frightening image is replaced by Stephen King, which is even more frightening. In a final attempt to find an acceptable comparison that is also accurate enough for my purposes, my third thought was “Aha!” followed by an old image of Yoko Ono sitting with John Lennon on a white bed….. I suppose John Lennon isn’t such a bad comparison, but Yoko Ono? Please… spare me…. and please spare me from any more Shakespeare…. that overblown twit….
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Well, it’s another fine mess I’ve created here, now, isn’t it? Fear not, I’m nothing if not accommodating; you’ll find a box of handi-wipes by the door as you leave the building. I’ve found it to be a well-appreciated amenity after sessions such as this one. Just remember, please, to dispose of them in the proper receptacle, also placed near the exit door for your convenience, and painted a bright orange so you can’t miss it…..

In the words of the prophet, ta ta, then, luvs….. y’all take care out there…..

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

gigoid

Kowabunga!

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Another fine article on a subject that always needs to be brought into the light….especially in re: the subtle lies that the perpetrators inflict on the victims… more from Resurrection Graves…

Ressurrection's avatarLove, Life, and Relationships: Overcoming Emotional and Child Sexual Abuse

Good Touch, Bad Touch is a program that taught me how to identify when someone is in my personal space touching me in an appropriate or inappropriate way. Grooming is a technique used by predators to train children into believing that good touch is good touch, and bad touch is also good touch.

Once the relations between a predator and his or her prey have been established, and trust is gained, children have a hard time distinguishing between what good touch and bad touch is.

I remember the Good Touch, Bad Touch program so it has always made me feel like it was a successful program. As I have mentioned before, I did not learn about Stranger Danger until sometime within the last year when my focus on child sexual abuse ensued. However, as a child I remember the Good Touch, Bad Touch pamphlets, and was able to run across a…

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Drizzled with mere seconds to spare….

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Ffolkes,
Far be it from me to ever put a roadblock up in front of my creative process; with the emotional pressure I put on myself to write, I’d be a basket case in hours if I did something so foolish. In me, the process is not a well-defined, step-by-step process, though I do have my rituals. Instead of being a walk with a dog on a leash, that politely stays on the path, and doesn’t chase cars, it is more of a romp with a dog in a dog park, off the leash, with both of us free to run and play. For me, it has always been more productive that way. So, it makes no sense at all for me to obstruct the process in myself, as it is a key element in my continued sanity…..

Once again, here I am, sitting here wondering who wrote that shit…. oh, it was me, and it’s all true, more or less. But, it isn’t anything like what I envisioned writing when I sat down to begin. As a matter of fact, the first five words were meant to push me off into one of my fantasy story openings, complete with witches, goats, three chandeliers, a devil, an angel, and a Peking Duck without sauce. Instead, I find myself at the end of a tidy little discussion that would most likely bore an accountant in tax season to desperate tears. (Aha, that reminds me…. do taxes!)  I can’t imagine what came over me; I seem to have misplaced my sense of whimsy, and can already see the ill effects of its absence…..

Ah well, the workaround for this particular problem is pretty straightforward…. ignore it and move on. That part of me that writes the boring stuff is easily miffed by such inattention, and will promptly stomp off in high dudgeon to find a quiet corner in which to sulk. So, we will now embark on our morning search for Pearls…. shall we begin?…. Aha, a fine specimen, practically jumped into the bag… we’ll give it primary billing, with no needed discussion….

“I notice that you use plain, simple language, short words and brief sentences. That is the way to write English — it is the modern way and the best way. Stick to it; don’t let fluff and flowers and verbosity creep in. When you catch an adjective, kill it. No, I don’t mean utterly, but kill most of them — then the rest will be valuable. They weaken when they are close together. They give strength when they are wide apart. An adjective habit, or a wordy, diffuse, flowery habit, once fastened upon a person, is as hard to get rid of as any other vice.” — Mark Twain

Good advice… let’s see how close we can come to following it….. Kowabunga!
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:Shub-Internet: /shuhb’ in’t*r-net/ n.  [MUD: from H. P. Lovecraft’s evil fictional deity Shub-Niggurath, the Black Goat with a Thousand Young] The harsh personification of the Internet: Beast of a Thousand Processes, Eater of Characters, Avatar of Line Noise, and Imp of Call Waiting; the hideous multi-tendriled entity formed of all the manifold connections of the net.  A sect of MUDders worships Shub-Internet, sacrificing objects and praying for good connections. To no avail — its purpose is malign and evil, and is the cause of all network slowdown.  Often heard as in “Freela casts a tac nuke at Shub-Internet for slowing her down.”  (A forged response often follows along the lines of: “Shub-Internet gulps down the tac nuke and burps happily.”)  Also cursed by users of the Web, {FTP} and {TELNET} when the system slows down. The dread name of Shub-Internet is seldom spoken aloud, as it is said that repeating it three times will cause the being
to wake, deep within its lair beneath the Pentagon.  Compare {Random Number God}. — from The on-line Hacker Jargon File V423

Every culture, and every sub-culture within that body, of which hacker culture is not an exception, spawns its own myths. These myths and legends are consistent with the principles of morality and beliefs that infuse the various elements in the group, composed of that culture’s deepest fears of the true unknown nature of the technology they employ. In hacker culture, their gods and demons take the shape and character of the antithesis of the wizards and demi-gods they admire, for their mastery of the nuances of the field of knowledge in which they all play and live; these unfortunate deities generally resemble the CEO of the company where they toil for pay.

I find hacker culture and mythology fascinating, as it is often based on concepts and ideas from science- and speculative-fiction, and fantasy, all blended together into such creatively conceived entities as Shub-Internet…. a creature both terrifying and playful….. Kind of like Lord Voldemort on laughing gas, but uglier, if you can picture that…. The highest form of humor to a hacker would be for Curly Joe to catch the Wolfman or Dracula with the old exploding cigar gag, in a movie where Curly is a programmer and Dracula is a management suit….. all after an elegant hack that saved the world, and the company, from evil bureaucrats from the Fast Food Dimension…..
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“Even for a wizard there will often come times when someone close to you, perhaps even your spouse, criticizes your habits by comparing them to those of animals. This is distinctly unfair to the animals, who have far better habits than we in many areas. When, for example, have you seen a frog collecting taxes or a squirrel running for electoral office? Present arguments like these to those people who criticize you. If they still do not see the wisdom of your ways, you may then feel free to bite them.” — The Teachings of Ebenezum, Vol. IX

Now, this is a philosophical attitude I can really get behind. I cannot begin to count how many conversations just like this I have had over the course of my life, with those who don’t like, or more often, and more accurately, don’t understand me or what I say and do.  While I’ve been either fortunate enough, or nice enough to not have run across a great many folks who are actively upset by my admittedly unusual mannerisms and expressions, there have been many who, because of their own dissatisfaction with their own lives, find it hard to keep their noses out of mine, or anyone else’s for that matter….. A lot of them wear badges, or work in government bureaucracies, and are just smart enough to realize how badly they have screwed up their own lives, so they try to make themselves feel better by criticizing whatever other folks are up to….. it’s pathetic, really…. and well worth the hullabaloo that ensues after administering the evidence of our displeasure….
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But Knowledge to their eyes her ample page,
Rich with the spoils of time, did ne’er unroll;
Chill penury repress’d their noble rage,
And froze the genial current of the soul.
— Thomas Gray (1716-1771) — Elegy in a Country Churchyard, Stanza 13

It isn’t often that ignorance is made so plain, nor the exact feel of it so well portrayed as in this little gem……

To each his suff’rings; all are men,
Condemn’d alike to groan,–
The tender for another’s pain,
Th’ unfeeling for his own.
Yet ah! why should they know their fate,
Since sorrow never comes too late,
And happiness too swiftly flies?
Thought would destroy their paradise.
No more; where ignorance is bliss,
‘T is folly to be wise.
— Thomas Gray (1716-1771) — On a Distant Prospect of Eton College, Stanza 10

Life is so simple when you don’t know what you’re talking about. — Smart Bee  (Isn’t that what Bush Jr., the Shrub, had printed around the edges of the national seal while he was in office? I think it was….or should have been…. I know it was printed on his cards….)
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What can I say? I’m a sucker for puppies…. found this on Facebook a few days ago, and just love it!….

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No man is an island, but then no man is a potato salad, either. — Smart Bee

I haven’t lost my mind, I know exactly where I left it. — Smart Bee

Since it is obvious by now that trying to be serious today just isn’t going to happen without a struggle, I am bowing to the forces at work, and giving up on any discussion of any compelling issues.  We’ll just fill in with some pertinent observations, such as exemplified by those little gems above this blurb…..

“Reality is a crutch for people who can’t cope with drugs.” — Lily Tomlin

I wasn’t picking my nose…I was scratching.

iT’s HArD tO tYPe WHilE HolDiNG a cAT…

Puns are bad, but poetry is verse.

“You can’t help respecting anybody who can spell TUESDAY, even if he doesn’t spell it right; but spelling isn’t everything. There are days when spelling Tuesday simply doesn’t count.” — A.A. Milne

A billion seconds ago Harry Truman was president.
A billion minutes ago was just after the time of Christ.
A billion hours ago man had not yet walked on earth.
A billion dollars ago was late yesterday at the U.S. Treasury…
— According to a recent government publication … (I know, not funny… sad and pathetically true…. but interesting….)

“How often we recall, with regret, that Napoleon once shot at a magazine editor and missed him and killed a publisher. But we remember with charity, that his intentions were good.” — Mark Twain

Okay, okay, settle down! I can hear you whimpering in pain, no need to shout…. I’m done now, so you can take a moment to go lick your wounds in private….. see you below in a few minutes…..
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A long, strange trip indeed….. I’m kind of glad it’s over, and we can get on with the rest of the day. The chances of it being better than it has thus far been willing to allow will no doubt increase the further from Now we get…. well, I AM and optimist at heart…. perhaps it would be best to just stick to the usual approach, expecting nothing, and enjoying the actual results, whatever they may be….. what with the rather capricious events that have thus far been our lot, that is probably for the best….. Y’all take care out there….

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

gigoid

Kowabunga!


Three Blind Mice, er, Mighty Nice Awards

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Fate…. one never knows when it will rear its head and make itself known… In the past few weeks, my blog has grown dramatically in followers, and as a result, my email exploded. It has taken me until today, the 8th, to get to the point where I could get to this post, one I wanted to do right, to pay honor for the honors for which I’ve been nominated.

In short, three very lovely poetesses all nominated me for a different award. I’ll take them in order, and try to get the rules right….. but first, the fate… though none of the three women are Celtic, the trio consists of a group that mirrors the most powerful symbol of womanhood, the triple spiral representing maid, mother, and crone, the wise women of legend in the ancient culture of Eire and Britain.

I am by ancestry a large percentage of Celt, and feel very humbled that these three women, one not yet twenty, whose mind is a pleasure to watch bloom, one poetess of great power and passion, in the prime of her years, raising two children, and a grandmother, with a heart full of life and romance, have all seen fit to include me in their list of nominees for these awards. In the order I received notice, they are…..

First, at greatpoetrymhf.com, our very beautiful crone writes of love, and family, and a life well-lived in very skilled verse, with always gorgeous pictures to enhance the feel of her writing. She received, and deservedly, the Versatile Blogger Award, and I thank her very much for passing the nomination to me among the others in her list….. the link to her home page is….

http://greatpoetrymhf.wordpress.com/

Here are 7 things about me you didn’t know….

 

1) I’m afraid of heights…. I can almost swoon if a picture hits my eye wrong…. and driving in SF? Not any more…

2) I have a son, a daughter, and a grandson, all of whom are the source of my greatest pride and love in this world….

 

3) I am a certified chef d’cuisine, with a degree in culinary arts, a gourmand and oenophile, and my favorite meal is a really good chili dog smothered in onions and cheese, with a crisp, cold beer and some beauxdacious soft, fresh, french bread to sop up the chili…

 

4) I consider dogs, cats, horses, cows, deer, tigers, and just about any other animal on earth to be a) morally superior to all but 0.0000000001% of humanity (if you do the math, that works out to about 10 people), and b) much better company than the same group…..

 

5) I am a closet Nora Roberts junkie…. I’ve read about 85% of her books…

 

6) I was crushed when I realized I would never be an astronaut…. but I haven’t given up on going into space at least once before I die….

 

7) I consider myself to be the luckiest man alive for having been raised by my father, Robert H. Moore… he was the most honest, faithful, loving man I have ever known, and remains my inspiration to emulate the same honesty, and to be the most steadfast father and man I can be, to honor his memory…..

 

Here are 15 nominees I think deserve this Versatile Blogger Award….

 

http://cribbings.wordpress.com/

http://subtlekate.wordpress.com/

 

http://ressurrection.wordpress.com/

 

http://elliebloo.com/

 

http://cowgirliz.wordpress.com/

 

http://eyesofodysseus.wordpress.com/

 

http://carolwelsh.wordpress.com/

 

http://amazinglybeautifullife.wordpress.com/

 

http://sweatlikemambo.com/

 

http://niltsi.com/

 

http://christiepepper.com/

 

http://onetimepad.wordpress.com/

 

http://patcegan.wordpress.com/

 

http://unclothedsoul.wordpress.com/

 

http://fivereflections.wordpress.com/

 

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The second award nomination I received was from Saffa Tasneem, who goes by The Dainty Damsel. She is a recent high school graduate from East India, who very deservedly received a Sunshine Award. She too is a lovely young woman, rapidly becoming adept at poetry and prose alike, as well as a burgeoning photographer with a good eye for composition. Her blog is at…

 

http://thedaintydamsel.wordpress.com/

Here are the 10 questions Safaa asked me to answer…

 

What is your Favorite color? Mother of Pearl, of course….

 

What is your favorite animal? Tigers….

 

What is your favorite non-alcoholic drink? Strong coffee…

 

Do you prefer Facebook or Twitter? I am reluctant to use either, but FB seems more personal….

 

What’s your passion? Since I consider myself a polymath, EVERYTHING…..

 

What’s your Favorite pattern? Celtic knots and plaids…

 

Do you prefer giving or getting presents? Giving…

 

What’s your favorite number? 42

 

Favorite day of the week? I’m retired, and only keep track for other folk’s convenience; all the same to me….

 

Favorite flower? Either one you wear on the shirt that squirts water, or a rose….

 

The following are my 10 nominees for the Sunshine Award….

 

http://poemsforkush.com/

 

http://ecofinanalysis.com/

 

http://manipalphotoblog.wordpress.com/

 

http://ericalaganfanclub.wordpress.com/

 

http://buddhakat.wordpress.com/

 

http://onidamerlyn.wordpress.com/

 

http://findingsubjects.com/

 

http://vinakent.com/

 

http://guapola.wordpress.com/

 

http://lesplaisirssimplesdelavie.wordpress.com/

 

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The last nomination I received was from Mari Sanchez Cayuso, who received and passed on to me the 7 X 7 Link Award. She is the perfect representation in my trio of goddesses, of a woman at the peak of her beauty and talent. A mother, an artist, a poetess, a woman who lives more passionately than almost anyone I’ve ever seen, drawing the maximum she can from every waking moment, and turning her perceptions into amazing works of art. Her artistic power leaves me breathless at times, and I am honored she felt I deserved mention…. her home page is at…

 

http://starsrainsunmoon.com/

I am to share 7 more unknown things about me… SIGH… I hate talking about me, at least in this respect, as if I’m special or something…. but, rules is rules, so here goes again….

 

1) For an old, fat fart with flat feet and frequent flatulence, I still get around pretty good on my raggedy old pins….no more jump kicks or basketball, but I can walk downtown with the best of them…. 🙂

 

2) I’m a sucker for puppies and kittens…. but, who isn’t?

 

3) I dislike having to deal with snow at all. Pictures of snow, fine. Fake snow at Christmas time, fine. An occasional dusting on Mount Tamalpais every 10 or so years, fine. But, walk in it, drive in it, ski on it, no thank you…. had my fill when we got stuck for 13 hours in a blizzard, thank you very much….

 

4) I don’t do horror flicks, not even chainsaw stuff, or psychological thrillers… too close to my reality at one time…

 

5) The most evil, horrifying, dangerously damaging children’s cartoon character ever? Barney, no contest. I always hoped that Barney would have run into Oscar the Grouch just once; he would have slunk back under whatever rock he crawled out from after Oscar got done with him…..

 

6) Spock was the MAN! And Leonard Nimoy WAS Spock….

7) Best line from “Pretty Woman”…. Kit, “Ya gotta have a goal, do ya have a goal?” Angel, “Well, I always wanted to be in the Ice Capades…” 🙂

7 links to my favorite of my posts…..

This is tougher than it seems for my blog. In fact, it is next to impossible. I have no idea how to answer this. Each morning, I make up the title for the Daily Pearl, then I write it, email it, and post it to WordPress. But, I don’t keep any record of what material is written under any title, other than in the archives of my blog. So, I haven’t a clue, just by looking at the title, or the date, what will be in the post, or even when I might have written it. The titles never have anything to do with the material in the post; I make them up fresh each day, before I know what I’m writing about…. I just never thought I’d need to go back and point out specific posts… they’re all random to me….

So, to fulfill this rule, just go to my home page, type in any date after ,oh, say, October of 2011 and before today, then go to that post, and navigate in either direction to find a random sampling of my best Pearls. I did change the format in, I believe, January of this year to its current form, so picking after then might show the latest, and best stuff…

I put my best into every one, anyway, so I’d have a hard time picking one over another for that reason as well. Just use the Previous and/or Next buttons, and it will work out fine, since I have posted at least once every day since I started last year…..

Here are my 7 nominees to receive this award….

http://jenniferworrell.wordpress.com/

http://ohmygawdjustdowhatisay.wordpress.com/

http://runningnakedwithscissors.wordpress.com/

http://ladybluerose.wordpress.com/

http://willowdot21.wordpress.com/

http://lindavernon.wordpress.com/

http://talesfromthelou.wordpress.com/

I think I did everything I’m supposed to do, except one last thing, and that is to say once again, thank you very much, to the three beautiful ladies who prompted this post by nominating me…. Y’all take care out there…..

Sometimes I sits and thinks,

and sometimes

I just sits.

gigoid

Kowabunga!

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A very real, very painful, very powerful, and ultimately hopeful poem…. please share….

Ressurrection's avatarLove, Life, and Relationships: Overcoming Emotional and Child Sexual Abuse

I woke up last week, wanting to write a poem in honor of Child Abuse Prevention Month. April is also National Poetry Month. Here it is.

Un-Elevated; paralyzed by snares

Hallucinating aloneness; empty by capacity-

in fact we’re fashionably hidden,

sentenced by crime;

unaware of confinement in a catastrophe

with small self mutilating incisions – completely livid inside.

I remember.

Being fingered at four.

Yeah, I know it wasn’t my fault;

being kissed like an adult

woman.

I remember the sores.

And because this design of the brain was not God intended,

I experienced a lifetime of pain in those six minutes.

Whether I forgive him or not,

my life was finished.

A new experience began, where that one ended.

My mind was different,

but I didn’t understand why.

A true fortune teller,

God visited me at nine.

He gave me a language to which I can rely,

showed me…

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Today only: Tofu Doll Houses….

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Ffolkes,
Curious….. my mind this morning as I sit down to begin is empty again. I could have sworn when I woke up that there were lots of things going around in there, clamoring and pushing to be first to get out. But now that I’m faced with an empty screen, I find a matching empty screen in my mind’s eye, sitting there, staring at me like I’ve got something to put on there…. which, needless to say at this point, I don’t. I can’t say where all the stuff that was around earlier went to; if I did, I’d just go there, and cajole a few random thoughts to come on back with me, or maybe fool one of the weaker thoughts into turning into a comedy routine of some sort.

Since I haven’t a clue where they might be, I’m not sure now just what I should do. I can’t sit here typing stream of consciousness for too long; my stream is looking a bit thin at present. If only there were some way to magically call my thoughts back, like in a Harry Potter movie…. “Accio Inspiration!”  With my luck, Inspiration would be a big rock, which would proceed to smack me upside the head, thus inspiring me to curse mightily before heaving the rock out the window (hopefully, AFTER remembering to open said window….. the landlord gets so testy when I forget….). Like that’ll work….

Well, I suppose it’s back to Plan C…. pick up the axe, start chopping, and let the chips fall where they may. Not necessarily the most scientific or artistic solution, or even the most efficient, but brute force has always served me well…. so I’m going for it. If you’d care to tag along, please feel free, after donning the provided hard hats and goggles, both of which are required by law for all visitors to this site….. Thank you for you cooperation with these regulations…. they are filming us to ensure compliance. (See? Just over there, from that fourth story window across the way….) We hope you enjoy today’s tour through the WWW Ocean of Knowledge, and our search for Pearls of Daily Wisdom…..
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Tho’ lost to sight, to mem’ry dear        / Thou ever wilt remain;
One only hope my heart can cheer,–       / The hope to meet again.
Oh fondly on the past I dwell,            / And oft recall those hours
When, wand’ring down the shady dell,      / We gathered the wild-flowers.
Yes, life then seem’d one pure delight,   / Tho’ now each spot looks drear;
Yet tho’ thy smile be lost to sight,      / To mem’ry thou art dear.
Oft in the tranquil hour of night,        / When stars illume the sky,
I gaze upon each orb of light,            / And wish that thou wert by.
I think upon that happy time,             / That time so fondly lov’d,
When last we heard the sweet bells chime, / As thro’ the fields we rov’d.
Yes, life then seem’d one pure delight,   / Tho’ now each spot looks drear;
Yet tho’ thy smile be lost to sight,      / To mem’ry thou art dear.
— George Linley (1798-1865) — Song

I love these poems! I’ve seen several now, though at least two are probably this one seen twice. I’ve seen another in techspeak, written by some hacker. I know I’ve used this before, but it’s been quite a while, so, the hell with it, I’m using it again. I am just so impressed by the creativity, and perseverance, it must have taken to create these three poems in one, I am compelled to include it again today, in spite of my regular policy against repetition of source material for discussions. To keep the left column consistent as a complete work, then the right column, then the poem created by the two together; this to me is poetic genius, or at minimum, a complete refusal to give up on something until it is right….. fantastic!  Enjoy!…..
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“I don’t think we should punish the criminal [a rapist] by killing his child.” — Dr. John Wilke, President, National Right to Life Committee, — Search for Common Ground, taped for television 4/89, as quoted in “The Far Right, Speaking For Themselves”, a Planned Parenthood pamphlet

When I first read this, I could not believe that this is something that could pass the lips of anyone, anyone at all, without choking the speaker. There are so many wrong things about it, it is difficult to choose a starting point.  My next thought was to wonder how such an ignoramus could remember to breathe without someone there to remind them.  I certainly have serious doubts that this “Doctor” was awarded his degree by any accredited educational institution, in ANY field of scientific inquiry,  though I suppose it could be a Piled High and Deep Doctorate in Divinity, or some such faux degree. Such an example of extreme, deliberate ignorance is certainly not something that anyone with a) any compassion at all, or b) an IQ that exceeds 90, would ever contemplate allowing to come out of their mouth, at least, not without a grin and and a wink to assure the listeners that they were not serious.

After I got past the disbelief, (after all, there is no defined limit to just how stupid people can be… the bar keeps getting raised…..), I had a reaction not dissimilar to the one I get when I contemplate those who traffic in human flesh, i.e., pimps, brothel managers, and other WOS assholes of that ilk. (No, not preachers and priests, though they are certainly to be included in that category, for their active encouragement of the trade)

It is almost comforting to envision myself putting a double tap from a Glock 9mm right between their eyes, thus serving the sentence that Mother Nature herself would set if she were to judge such ignorance…. which she does, but leaves the execution of the sentence to other forces of Nature, such as the righteous anger of the brothers, uncles, and fathers of the abused victims…..
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“It is no great wonder if in long process of time, while fortune takes her course hither and thither, numerous coincidences should spontaneously occur. If the number and variety of subjects to be wrought upon be infinite, it is all the more easy for fortune, with such an abundance of material, to effect this similarity of results.” — Plutarch (46-120 AD) — Life of Sertorius

Infinite monkeys, pecking at typewriters over infinite time, would produce all the works of Shakespeare….. It now seems clear from whom the man who wrote that line obtained the obviously plagiarized concept he employed in its composition. If such it may be called, in light of this thought from Plutarch, a man whose reputation has stood through millennia.

With my complete faith in the power of Google, after writing the above little query into Plutarch’s statement, and in the interests of accuracy (and scratching the itch of curiosity it gave me), I typed the essential phrases into the search box, hit enter, and sat back to await the results, trying to find the current author to whom it is attributed.

Sure thing, the first link was to a comprehensive article on Wikipedia on what is known as the Infinite Monkey Theorem. Little did I know when I first took up this subject that I had blundered into a field of intense and continuous scientific and philosophical inquiry that has been raging among the academic and public sectors of society since the time of Aristotle, who is credited in the article as having been one of the first to propose the basic concept in writing.

In scrolling down the Wikipedia page in a quick scan, I realized what I saw there would be equivalent to 30 or more pages of a book, in a tiny font, mentioning discussions by most of the philosophers of the last two thousand years, including many examples of historical and cultural explorations of the concept. This first glance I took only covered the basic elements of the discussion, which was organized into what seemed to be endless divisions of academic, mathematical, and cultural aspects.

There are several other articles listed as well, some even longer and more detailed, that explore the idea’s mathematics, and the implications of that math. There are entire articles on the cultural aspects of the question, and each article is filled with links to more information, literally thousands of web pages of data. It is, in short, a subject worthy of weeks, or even years of study before any discussion to be held would cover any ground that hasn’t likely been covered previously.

It would take a few weeks of eight hour days just to check if any ideas I had for discussion had occurred already somewhere, or some when, not leaving much time to develop the any possibly new arguments in a fresh way, or even much time to organize any, since their relative newness was as yet undetermined. A challenge of a lifetime, or at least one worthy of a doctoral dissertation…. hmmm, I wonder if some university would accept such an article for a doctorate?

Hell, somebody probably thought of that already, too….. I guess I’ll find another subject for discussion here. This one seems to be a dead end….in spite of the 300 or so words I’ve already spewed.

Damn monkeys anyway! Who asked them to write Shakespeare? Though, as I’ve said before, there is some of his stuff that could use a bit of work….. just sayin’…..

“Originality is the fine art of remembering what you hear but forgetting where you hear it.” — Laurence Peter, “Peter’s Quotations”, 1977
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“Fantasy, abandoned by reason, produces impossible monsters; united with it, she is the mother of the arts and the origin of marvels.”– Goya

Master Goya knows whereof he speaks. If you believe it not, just view his body of work, and we will discuss it again.  Here is one of the marvels of which he speaks… I had forgotten how excellent a poet Keats could be. This is obviously a “toss off” poem, a spur of the moment reaction, yet effortlessly gives the reader a taste of the grandeur of what he had read in Chapman, and felt about what he read.  Enjoy!….

Much have I travell’d in the realms of gold,
And many goodly states and kingdoms seen;
Round many western islands have I been
Which bards in fealty to Apollo hold.
Oft of one wide expanse had I been told
That deep-brow’d Homer ruled as his demesne,
Yet did I never breathe its pure serene
Till I heard Chapman speak out loud and bold:
Then felt I like some watcher of the skies
When a new planet swims into his ken;
Or like stout Cortez when with eagle eyes
He stared at the Pacific, and all his men
Look’d at each other with a wild surmise,
Silent, upon a peak in Darien.
— John Keats (1795-1821) — On first looking into Chapman’s Homer

Gorgeous! If you can believe it, I am speechless in admiration….. watch me….. See? Nothing more to say…. well, maybe one thing….

“True eloquence consists in saying all that should be said, not all that could be.” — Francois Duc de la Rochefoucauld
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No, ‘t is slander,
Whose edge is sharper than the sword, whose tongue
Outvenoms all the worms of Nile, whose breath
Rides on the posting winds, and doth belie
All corners of the world.
— William Shakespeare (1564-1616), Cymbeline
— Act iii, Sc. 4

Not to belabor my point, but see? Shakespeare. Really bad verse. At least 10 too many words, way more than needed, and still so obscure the point has to be shaken out like a peach from a tree. Not unusual for him, in my mind….. I rest my case…..

Kirk: “Spock, comment.”
Spock: “Very bad poetry.”
— “Catspaw”, Stardate 3018.2.
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Well…. I’d feel strange about the lineup today, but, in truth, it’s not an unusual grouping to find here. Since I never plan what to write ahead of time, I suppose that isn’t particularly surprising. It keeps me busy….. a bit of housekeeping, if you would spare me a moment of your attention….

*Smart Bee — Smart Bee is the database program in which a lot of the quotes I use as pearls are found. More of them than I would like are not attributed, as might be expected in a database of 111, 111 quotes amassed by a collection of geeks and programmers (i.e., hackers) in their spare time, and distributed for free.

In the past I have attributed all such orphaned statements to Anonymous, Unknown, and occasionally, no one at all (I feel plagiaristic every time, but whaddyagonnado,  when it’s perfect and you’re in a hurry to get done?) So, in the future, just for the sake of my sanity, such as it is, I’ll be attributing all such taglines found with no one to blame to Smart Bee itself. That way, I don’t have to try to figure out which to use each time, and can just get on with it… thanks for your patience with this little condom for my mental health.

And on that note, classy and elegant guy that I am, I shall bid thee adieu… be warned, please, that I intend to try to post to my blog site again later today…. but it won’t hurt, I assure you, especially if I don’t get to it….. Y’all take care out there…..

 

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

Kowabunga!

Strike the tent! We’ve been pacified!

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Ffolkes,
Possessing a passionate nature is not always a blessing. There are many times that my passion is so great that I feel as if I will burst if I cannot do something that will fulfill it somehow; to soothe it, or calm it so that I don’t feel as if I am trying to hold the leash of a rhinoceros who really, really wants to walk, NOW! The hard part of that is that taking the walk, or even slipping the leash off and letting it run, does not necessarily soothe the beast, or release the pent up energy. But, if it’s the only thing to do, or that CAN be done, well, we just have to try it, and hope for the best.

The other hard part of having unresolved passionate feelings is knowing that the event or issue that prompted the feelings is often something for which we have no solution, at least not in the short term. The reasons  behind that failure of solution are not important, other than to point out that reality can often not be changed to suit our desires. But the fact of the matter is that our, or my, passion is thus being controlled by factors in the world over which I have little or no control, and that is a hard pill to swallow, especially for someone who feels responsibility for their own feelings and action. I HATE knowing that there are things going on in the world over which I have no control, and that those things are evil.

This line of thought was prompted by a couple of comments made by a reader who had been taking in some of the articles on human trafficking, sexual abuse, and sex trade practices that I have re-blogged,  articles written by survivors, who know first-hand the evil of which I spoke above. The comment was a plaintive lament, expressing sorrow and astonishment at the extent and Medusa-nature of the trade in modern society, referencing a recent shut-down of a sex trade operation nearby, with the subsequent appearance of three new operations in the same area.

Her lament, naturally, struck a deep chord in me, for it echoes the hollow feelings of my passion over this issue, feelings so deep I weep, even now, as I think of the pain and degradation of my sisters who are trapped by those WOS assholes (I know, pretty lame insult for such evil; I’m still searching for words powerful enough to really show the level of hatred and disdain that I feel) (I don’t engage in hatred very much, it is generally an unproductive emotion. But, in the case of these people, a term I use in lieu of anything more accurate, I am making a deliberate exception to that policy, allowing myself to hate them without reservation…. damn straight I am…..)  who engage in the sex trade.

Sometimes, the only way I can stop myself from crying is to envision myself walking into a place like the Mustang Ranch, or some other brothel in any random city, and methodically assassinating any male figure that stepped into my sight, customer or staff, preferably with some sort of hollowpoint ammunition that would make a real mess when I shoot them in the head. That vision will usually make me feel better, if only for a moment or two.

For now, though, all I can do is try to help these women, who have survived and moved on, but have the compassion in them to want to share their strength with the other women, and children, still enslaved, to tell their story to the world, painful as that is for them. And all I can do to help, until I can get more ammunition anyway, is to help them to spread that story, to engage as many people in society as possible, who may then be pushed to add their voices, and their energies, to stopping this plague, this blight on society.

Since this issue has been present in society for many thousands of years, the eradication of it in its entirety will be a nasty, time-consuming job, not unlike getting rid of an insect infestation in a house or community. But it is a job that is long overdue for completion, so I’ll be doing whatever I can to help, for as long as I am well enough to type, and move a mouse around. (Or pull a trigger, but that is another story, yet to be written…. rest assured, before I die, I will personally take a significant number of assholes down….. one bullet for each asshole, one asshole for each sister I find there…..)

Well, that was a pleasant start to the day, wasn’t it? To be honest, I was torn up pretty well by the emotional storm this created within me…. but those last couple of lines had the beneficial effect of lifting my spirits quite nicely. I’m not sure what that says about me, getting my serenity from thinking about killing assholes, but, hey, too bad, so sad…. I refuse to feel any guilt over my intended future acts. The only guilt I intend to suffer over any of them will be if I miss with my first shot, and have to waste another round to put them down like the dirty, evil dogs they are…… karma be damned, in this case… I’ll take the risk.

“I must do something” will always solve more problems than, “Something must be done.” — Anonymous

There, that said, we can now go on to something a bit less dark and dreary…. well, we can if I can find an appropriate pearl to stimulate said lightness. Let’s go see what we can see, shall we?….. After you……
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“The rights of one are as sacred as the rights of a million.” — Eugene V. Debs, US labor leader.

(Note: Debs received one million votes in 1920 as candidate for US President, while serving a 10-year jail sentence for having said in June 1918: “Wars throughout history have been waged for conquest and plunder…the master class has always declared the wars; the subject class has always fought the battles.” Since we were at war, or just done with one, the beloved ruling class was able to label him a traitor for his words, thus hoodwinking the public, again….)

This pearl is another that doesn’t really need embellishment or long discussion, as I placed it here merely as a warning. Society today is no less tolerant of those who question those in power than it was just after WW I when Mr. Debs was cast down for dissing the beloved ruling class while they were in the middle of their victory dance. Though it is encouraging to note the number of intellectuals that were alert and active in 1920 at the polling booths, it must also be noted that, by virtue of force (i.e., shutting Debs up by locking him away on some trumped up charge) all million of those votes were effectively nullified, and made useless, except as a statement.

I think that all of us today who consider ourselves to be intellectuals, with responsibility to stay alert and speak out against the madness, would be well-advised to keep the example of Eugene Debs in mind, and be ready to repel any attempts to shut us up, by force, or by stealth, or by lying and cheating, all of which have been tried and true methods used by those in power…… Be alert, folks, the world needs more lerts, and that is NOT a joke, but a warning…..
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Just jiggle it a little, it’ll open. — Smart Bee  Wisdom for the ages…. known only to those with the soul of a true engineer…

As a rule, I didn’t, and don’t, write about men/women relationships in a serious vein, a practice most likely left over from my years as a thoroughly married man, one who was, of course, subject to the rules and unwritten laws that go with any such social contract (and, if you are paying attention today, you’ll see I’m not about to start now….). Talking about the relationship seriously is DANGEROUS TERRITORY for a man alone, as such things are more in the purview of women, at least in my experience. I mean, regardless of how honestly, or sincerely, or logically, or reasonably I have approached discussions of a serious nature with a women in relationship, what I said had absolutely no impact at all on the outcome. None. Zero. Zip. Nada. Not a damn thing.

What I discovered in my years of experiencing the phenomenon is that the outcome of all such conversations is a foregone conclusion; whatever reason the woman had for initiating the conversation was irrelevant, as were any thoughts on the matter I might entertain. What was key was to learn to understand that they didn’t need or want any input from me, because their mind, and feelings, were already set in stone; the discussion was merely some kind of ritual formality, necessary to show that they were trying to discuss things with you, or in this case, me….. and my thoughts and feelings on the matter were not merely irrelevant, but counter-productive in their eyes. (Echoes of past cliches are resounding in my mind, but I’m far too polite to include them….   🙂    …… )

One of the less emotional, but still potentially volatile, subjects that might prompt such discussion in a marriage involves chores, or tasks that come up in any household. For example, “Honey, the car is making a funny noise. Would you fix it, please?”  Questions such as this are pretty common, from woman to man, wouldn’t you say? Common enough at my house for the fact to have surfaced that hey, I’m not a mechanic! The one class in school that I ever got less than a B was auto shop, and she KNOWS this. I’m not an ignoramus in the engineering field, but it is NOT my field of expertise by any stretch of the imagination.

Yet my wife would continually assign tasks to me for completion that a man who had worked for 30 years on cars would scratch his head at (not an exaggeration. I took a cars to my VW guru more than once, asking him to track down whatever it was she heard, and he would frequently give it back with no charge, because he couldn’t find anything wrong with it…. not once, not twice, but…. more than that….. at least four times I can remember…. not hard to remember as it was really embarrassing, every time….)

But it didn’t matter to her; she wanted it fixed, and that was my job, regardless of whether or not I had an engineering degree or not, and that was all she wanted to hear on the subject….. SIGH, it was tough living up to those kind of delusions, er, standards, when she obviously believed the following to be a natural law, and expected me to be able, or even willing, to obey it…..

“Anything can be made to work if you fiddle with it long enough.” — Wyszkowski’s Second Law

By God, for a moment there, it all made sense…
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“It is a blessed thing that in every age some one has had individuality enough and courage enough to stand by his own convictions. I believe it was Magellan who said, “The church says the earth is flat; but I have seen its shadow on the moon, and I have more confidence even in a shadow than in the Church.” On the prow of his ship were disobedience, defiance, scorn, and success.” — Robert G. Ingersoll, quoted in _The Great Quotations_

And, on that note, we offer the following…..

1. Politics without principle
2. Wealth without work
3. Commerce without morality
4. Pleasure without conscience
5. Education without character
6. Science without humanity
7. Worship without sacrifice
— Gandhi’s Seven Social Sins

Of these principles, I can fully support 6 of 7, which is the best percentage of belief I’ve admitted to for ANY system of philosophy, so, good for Mahatma…. These two short statements don’t really need my comments, so I’m not going to give any, other than to say that both are very good meditation focus tools, with just a bit of practical editing to put them in the right form, as mindful questions to answer during our meditations…… enjoy!….
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Ingredients: vodka, tomato juice, Tabasco, Worcestershire sauce, A-1 steak sauce, ice, salt, pepper, celery.
Fill a large tumbler with vodka.
Throw all the other ingredients away.

— The Real Man’s Bloody Mary

Having been a bartender for a time, I rather enjoyed making Bloody Mary’s for the club members. As a chef, too, I played with recipe a bit, and came up with a pretty good set of proportions that made the list of classical ingredients able to be brought together into a “perfect” Bloody Mary, by the reports of the members. So, knowing those ingredients, upon reading the above, I was able, and happy, to burst into guffaws of laughter at the last line. Funny, funny, funny shit!  My recipe, which, classically, contains no A-1 sauce (an abomination!), and does contain both celery salt and fresh, strong horseradish, (along with my secret, a half teaspoon of chopped garlic) was popular with a number of the early golfers. But there WAS one member, who came in to play 18 holes just about every day, who would come in and ask for his personal Bloody Mary, (which he told his wife was what he drank while playing each morning).

This gentleman’s (he was no duffer, for sure….) version of the classic drink called for a 32 ounce opaque white cold cup, ice to 2/3 filled, then filled to the top of the cup with straight vodka from the well, a decent, but cheap plonk (it worked out to about 8 or 9 shots of vodka per drink). He’d slap a lid on it, take a huge swallow, grin, ask me to replace the swallow, and hit the course, both of us fully aware that regardless of his score on the front nine, he would be picking up an identical refill on the turn. 

Now, that was a drinking man! Can’t say I admired him, particularly, as a man, because he had a son and daughter, and no doubt spent too much time wasted to be of much use as a father.  But I did stand in amazement at how well he could play golf in that condition (he maintained an honestly earned handicap of 4; he was very, very good, according to his partners, all damn good golfers themselves…..), and at his liver, which hadn’t killed him by the time I left…..
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“It has been said that trees are imperfect men, and seem to bemoan their imprisonment rooted in the ground. But they never seem so to me. I never saw a discontented tree. They grip the ground as though they liked it, and though fast rooted they travel about as far as we do. They go wandering forth in all directions with every wind, going and coming like ourselves, traveling with us around the sun two million miles a day, and through space heaven knows how fast and far!” — John Muir, American Naturalist (1838-1914)

John Muir probably did as much, and more, to ensure the preservation of much of the American wilds as any man who ever lived; his lifelong love affair with Mother Nature was not a front. His passion and sheer joy at being out of doors, almost anywhere, but especially in his beloved Yosemite, was obvious in every one of the thousands and thousands of words he wrote, trying to describe what he saw and felt when he was connected to Nature (always capitalized in his mind). He was a good writer, with excellent observational skills, and an engaging style. But, when waxing poetic about the wonders of his love for Nature, he tended to well, gush….. and since he had a very extensive, powerful vocabulary, his is not just gushing, but major gushing….. it can get everywhere if it spills…..   🙂

It’s okay, that is not a complaint, or intended to disparage. It’s just a personal opinion, from a curmudgeon in training, who gets a bit weary after a while of all the hyperbole Mr. Muir uses in his descriptions …. but THIS quote is perfect, to me, and I like it a lot. The image of Man and Tree walking the earth together, side by side as we ride our planetary roller coaster through space, is a lovely one, bringing a smile to my face upon first reading it. I was reminded of the scenes in the Lord of the Rings Trilogy where the hobbits, Pippin and Merry, are introduced to, and learn to appreciate, Greybeard, the Ent, the last and oldest tree in Middle Earth, the remaining guardian of all the less-sentient trees…. a truly wonderful vision of the inter-connecting lines of life force that are common to all the creatures and plants who inhabit Earth….. and not a gush to be seen….. lovely.
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Wow. 0711 and I’m done. Not bad, even if I did start before 0500 by a good half hour….. I’ll take it. Maybe today, I can actually get a jump on the day’s email, before it has a chance to bury me again. Yesterday evening, I found myself still going through emails I had not gotten to yet, from 4/3/12, three days ago last night.

It is getting discouraging; I had it down to only 20 unread, and about 85 read but not yet site-visited, for those posts I wanted to acknowledge, or read more fully. Now this morning when I finish this, I flip over to email and find…… yup, as I suspected, 45 new emails to read….. SIGH… the price of fame, or in my case, an equal amount of folly, I suppose.

No es importa, es una problema personal, verdad? Si….  Y’all take care out there…..

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

gigoid

Kowabunga!