At that point, I woke up, with my head still whirling with the images of my dreams, blending with reality at first, until the sound of coffee brewing breaks through with a scented siren’s call. A bit clearer, albeit a bit fuzzy, I got up, used the facilities, and allowed my nose to lead me to the coffee pot, to stand impatiently while it finished its work….. Then, sheer bliss, as the first sip of black blood brings me completely into focus, if a bit confused as to exactly which reality I am inhabiting this morning. Gotta love that caffeine!

Since it also woke me enough to type out the surreal scene with which we opened today, I will celebrate the day by taking a moment to think back and reflect on how much I have for which to be thankful. (Using correct grammar sometimes comes out looking and sounding not right…. hmm, a puzzle….) It’s not much, to be sure, but it is a lot more than much of the world can count on. (See, put the preposition at the end of the sentence, and it sounds better, even though incorrect…..) Having not been given the opportunity to provide input on where I was born, I can’t correctly say that I am proud to be American, but I can certainly say that I’m thankful; in this country, our bottom line is still at a level that can be described as “it could be worse”.

Having thus straightened out my karmic burden, allowing me to shoulder it comfortably, I suggest we go on to our morning dive for pearls forthwith…. Shall we Pearl?….. C’mon, the oysters are waiting!…..

To continue, smash forehead on keyboard…..
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A Considerable Speck

(Microscopic)

A speck that would have been beneath my sight
On any but a paper sheet so white
Set off across what I had written there.
And I had idly poised my pen in air
To stop it with a period of ink
When something strange about it made me think,
This was no dust speck by my breathing blown,
But unmistakably a living mite
With inclinations it could call its own.
It paused as with suspicion of my pen,
And then came racing wildly on again
To where my manuscript was not yet dry;
Then paused again and either drank or smelt–
With loathing, for again it turned to fly.
Plainly with an intelligence I dealt.
It seemed too tiny to have room for feet,
Yet must have had a set of them complete
To express how much it didn’t want to die.
It ran with terror and with cunning crept.
It faltered: I could see it hesitate;
Then in the middle of the open sheet
Cower down in desperation to accept
Whatever I accorded it of fate.
I have none of the tenderer-than-thou
Collectivistic regimenting love
With which the modern world is being swept.
But this poor microscopic item now!
Since it was nothing I knew evil of
I let it lie there till I hope it slept.

I have a mind myself and recognize
Mind when I meet with it in any guise
No one can know how glad I am to find
On any sheet the least display of mind.

Robert Frost

I thought it would be good to start off with something classic, and for that, Robert Frost can never do you wrong….. Enjoy!
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INFIDEL, n.  In New York, one who does not believe in the Christian religion; in Constantinople, one who does.  (See GIAOUR.)  A kind of scoundrel imperfectly reverent of, and niggardly contributory to, divines, ecclesiastics, popes, parsons, canons, monks, mollahs, voodoos, presbyters, hierophants, prelates, obeah-men, abbes, nuns, missionaries, exhorters, deacons, friars, hadjis, high-priests, muezzins, brahmins, medicine-men, confessors, eminences, elders, primates, prebendaries, pilgrims, prophets, imaums, beneficiaries, clerks, vicars-choral, archbishops, bishops, abbots, priors, preachers, padres, abbotesses, caloyers, palmers, curates, patriarchs, bonezs, santons, beadsmen, canonesses, residentiaries, diocesans, deans, subdeans, rural deans, abdals, charm-sellers, archdeacons, hierarchs, class-leaders, incumbents, capitulars, sheiks, talapoins, postulants, scribes, gooroos, precentors, beadles, fakeers, sextons, reverences, revivalists, cenobites, perpetual curates, chaplains, mudjoes, readers, novices, vicars, pastors, rabbis, ulemas, lamas, sacristans, vergers, dervises, lectors, church wardens, cardinals, prioresses, suffragans, acolytes, rectors, cures, sophis, mutifs and pumpums. — Ambrose Bierce, “The Devil’s Dictionary”

Boy, if there is any tagline I’ve found that needs no adornment, this is it! Ambrose spent some time on this one, making sure he didn’t miss any of the priestly hierarchies’ titles for their acolytes, and came up with a very impressive list. I spent a few minutes poring over it, and couldn’t think of a single title to add, so, here it is to enjoy in all its original glory……  Enjoy!
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Here are a few of the unpleasant’st words that ever blotted paper! — William Shakespeare (1564-1616), The Merchant of Venice — Act iii, Sc. 2

Here are a few other examples of his work, that serve to prove my point….

No man’s pie is freed
From his ambitious finger.
— William Shakespeare (1564-1616), King Henry VIII — Act i, Sc. 1
(All I can say is, “Eewwww! Don’t touch me!”)

I am he as you are he as you are me and we are all together! — (The Beatles) I Am The Walrus
(Sorry, couldn’t resist….) (But, note, please, the simple obscurity, mimicking Willie, as it were…. John was a true cynic…..)

I understand a fury in your words,
But not the words.
— William Shakespeare (1564-1616), Othello — Act iv, Sc. 2
(Could he make such a simple concept any more obscure? It sounds almost like the therapeutic technique of “active listening”, of which one part is mirroring, e.g., “I hear you are angry? Can you tell me a different way?” or some such nonsense delivered in a soothing voice….)

We burn daylight.
— William Shakespeare (1564-1616), The Merry Wives of Windsor — Act ii, Sc. 1
(WTFDTM?)*

I think we do know the sweet Roman hand.
— William Shakespeare (1564-1616), Twelfth Night — Act iii, Sc. 4
(Again, WTFDTM?)*

A merry heart goes all the day,
Your sad tires in a mile-a.
— William Shakespeare (1564-1616), The Winter’s Tale — Act iv, Sc. 3
(See? Adding a letter to a word, just to make it rhyme…. can he be any tackier?)

No profit grows where is no pleasure ta’en;
In brief, sir, study what you most affect.
— William Shakespeare (1564-1616), The Taming of the Shrew — Act i, Sc. 1
(I got a headache just trying to decipher a meaning for this… any meaning at all would do, but alas, as far as I can tell, there is none….. or, to put it more succinctly, as above, WTFDTM?)*

That’s probably enough to get the point across…. Next time someone quotes Shakespeare to you, remember this, and you will be able to thoroughly embarrass the poor fool with nonsense from the same source….Don’t be intimidated by all those folks who fall for his hype, and stick with writers who aren’t so impressed with their own supposed talent…..

“He hasn’t a single redeeming vice.” — Oscar Wilde (1854-1900)

*It’s short for What The Fuck Does That Mean?…..
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I had intended to add a pearl today since I didn’t actually write very much, choosing to limit myself to commenting. But, I’m feeling a bit lazy, and Smart Bee doesn’t seem to want to cough up anything interesting to write about…. I’ll give it 20 more tries, and if nothing comes out, we’ll call it a day…. be back soon….

Okay, so I found a pearl at number fourteen, but it’s not one that needs any discussion, since its author says it so well…. Instead of above, I’ll just add it in here…

Take Idaho’s license plates – they say ‘Famous Potatoes.’ Then there’s New Hampshire – their license plates say ‘Live Free … or DIE!!’  I don’t know, I  think that somewhere between ‘Famous Potatoes’ and ‘Live Free or Die’ the  truth lies.  And I think it’s closer to ‘Famous Potatoes.’ — George Carlin