Save it all until the final tally…..

Ffolkes,
One more down, for the count, and one more on deck for full waiting modality. Each day that passes without hearing from Social Security adds just a bit more fuel to the already huge pile of it waiting to ignite my ire into a full-fledged tirade. Actually, I’m not sure what is keeping it from setting itself off, as I have more than enough anger built up to supply the necessary heat.

I know I’m dealing with a federal/state agency (it’s a weird system…. apparently the state has an agency that decides for the federal government who is and who is not disabled, according to some arcane set of standards, none of which are known to the public. This agency claims it is so busy, it is 140+ days behind in its work, and continuing to fall further behind each day….), but it really shouldn’t be an automatic assumption that they are inefficient, even if they are. And, they are…. extremely…..

This may have to do, of course, with their incredible lack of efficiency at almost every level in the department. I was told, on the 14th of October, that the submitted reports on my functioning level had been sent to doctors for their review, but that any decision would be held until receiving the psyche report from the psychologist they sent me to on November 8. Well, that was done, and according to the psychologist, they have had his report now for at least two and a half weeks; it was the last one they were waiting on before making a decision. Well, no decision thus far, and no answer, apparently, since I asked my lawyer’s office to call them and request a time frame. It is getting close to my wanting to take some personal action…. SIGH…. I am a patient man, but they are testing that patience to the extreme…..

Ah well, I suppose I’d best find some other form of recreation for the day, as a rant against SS is not only futile, but somewhat nauseating to write, as it creates bile having to just keep their characteristics in mind, and the longer one rants, the more sick one feels, not from the work, but from having to deal with SS at all. For an agency that is supposed to take care of senior citizens, it certainly puts them through a lot of shit. I’ll leave it at that for the time being, and try to refocus on something else….

How about the weather, eh? Pretty confusing, to say the least…. Summer weather all the way through November, then deep winter weather pattern, skipping past autumn completely. The leaves are beautiful in their colors, finally, while the weather itself has turned cold and wet, common for February, not necessarily November/December, though we do get some rain in the fall some years. Just not like this, one storm after another, in a very winter-like pattern.

It all goes to show that all the shouting and worry about global warming is not a false alarm, as weather patterns all over the world are showing signs of breaking down the old stable, predictable patterns, and showing veritable waves of unusual events. It is only going to get stranger, ffolkes, so you may as well gird your grids for a big one….

Okay, we’ve touched all the salient points that are required in an intro, and probably went way too far, again…. Oh, well…. Such is life, or as the French are fond of saying, c’est la vie, which, translated precisely, means, “such is life”….    🙂     Shall we Pearl?…..
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Where will you spend eternity? Heaven or Hell? — found in Smart Bee, most likely copied from some Christian Sunday School lesson, or perhaps some preacher’s sermon…. And, definitely used as an opening line by any number of sidewalk preachers….

This will be a relatively short pearl, just to take a moment to point out the kind of insidious manipulation that is the common habit of most preachers (as previously defined….). First, let’s examine the first sentence…. Where will you spend eternity?  Eternity? Eternity? Who mentioned eternity? Actually, I had no intention of going there at all, so asking me this question is rather silly to begin with. Eternity is a very, very long time, and I’m not sure I really want to spend my time sitting there, in either of the given choices…. Moreover, who says that, a) I’m going there, or b) you’re going there, or c) we have to decide? I didn’t see that in my manual…..

So, they want to know where I’ll spend eternity…. as if it is their business what I do. Even if it were any of their business, why should I answer? Is it mandatory now to suffer fools? I don’t get these people who insist on proselytizing their religions. They seem to believe that their piety, or their status as believers, gives them the right to throw out all standards of public politeness, and act as if they are entitled to accost anyone they choose, to demand answers to ridiculously biased questions, and generally make nuisances of themselves. As if it isn’t rude enough to try to engage perfect strangers in order to manipulate them, they also will solicit money or time for their cause, showing no sense of shame whatsoever…..

If they are insistent enough to badger us into engaging with them with their intrusive questions regarding their beliefs, (which is the point…. they aren’t interested in YOUR beliefs at all, they only want to force theirs onto you….), then you get hit with the second part…. Heaven, or Hell…. I have to admit, sometimes, just for fun, I tell them the truth…. that I’d much rather spend the time in Hell, where all the independent ffolkes with a measurable sense of humor go to spend eternity, than to have to spend that amount of time listening to their prattle and carrying on about how grand things are in Heaven… what a massive bore!…. Of course, I tell them, that is assuming there is any truth at all to the proposition that going to either place is really what happens, something for which there is no evidence at all….

Smart Bee shows me a quote occasionally that says “If I had property in Texas and in Hell, I’d probably live in Hell, and rent the place in Texas.”, but I forget who said it. Nevertheless, it is closer to what I feel than any other quote I’ve found on this particular subject. I know this will come as a bit of a disappointment to my older relatives, (those valiant few that remain….) and any Christians who are my friends (there ARE some who aren’t entirely hidebound….), but, they’re used to me by now. For any others who may find these comments to be offensive, well, oops, too bad, so sad….. Around here we deal only in the truth, (as I perceive it…. it’s only fair, since it’s my blog…..) and we don’t worry a lot about where the chips may fall….

The correct way to punctuate a sentence that starts: “Of course it is none of my business but–” is to place a period after the word “but.” Don’t use excessive force in supplying such moron with a period. Cutting his throat is only a momentary pleasure and is bound to get you talked about.  — Lazarus Long
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Ode To Psyche

O Goddess! hear these tuneless numbers, wrung
By sweet enforcement and remembrance dear,
And pardon that thy secrets should be sung
Even into thine own soft-conched ear:
Surely I dreamt to-day, or did I see
The winged Psyche with awaken’d eyes?
I wander’d in a forest thoughtlessly,
And, on the sudden, fainting with surprise,
Saw two fair creatures, couched side by side
In deepest grass, beneath the whisp’ring roof
Of leaves and trembled blossoms, where there ran
A brooklet, scarce espied:

Mid hush’d, cool-rooted flowers, fragrant-eyed,
Blue, silver-white, and budded Tyrian,
They lay calm-breathing, on the bedded grass;
Their arms embraced, and their pinions too;
Their lips touch’d not, but had not bade adieu,
As if disjoined by soft-handed slumber,
And ready still past kisses to outnumber
At tender eye-dawn of aurorean love:
The winged boy I knew;
But who wast thou, O happy, happy dove?
His Psyche true!

O latest born and loveliest vision far
Of all Olympus’ faded hierarchy!
Fairer than Ph{oe}be’s sapphire-region’d star,
Or Vesper, amorous glow-worm of the sky;
Fairer than these, though temple thou hast none,
Nor altar heap’d with flowers;
Nor virgin-choir to make delicious moan
Upon the midnight hours;
No voice, no lute, no pipe, no incense sweet
From chain-swung censer teeming;
No shrine, no grove, no oracle, no heat
Of pale-mouth’d prophet dreaming.

O brightest! though too late for antique vows,
Too, too late for the fond believing lyre,
When holy were the haunted forest boughs,
Holy the air, the water, and the fire;
Yet even in these days so far retir’d
From happy pieties, thy lucent fans,
Fluttering among the faint Olympians,
I see, and sing, by my own eyes inspir’d.
So let me be thy choir, and make a moan
Upon the midnight hours;
Thy voice, thy lute, thy pipe, thy incense sweet
From swinged censer teeming;
Thy shrine, thy grove, thy oracle, thy heat
Of pale-mouth’d prophet dreaming.

Yes, I will be thy priest, and build a fane
In some untrodden region of my mind,
Where branched thoughts, new grown with pleasant pain,
Instead of pines shall murmur in the wind:
Far, far around shall those dark-cluster’d trees
Fledge the wild-ridged mountains steep by steep;
And there by zephyrs, streams, and birds, and bees,
The moss-lain Dryads shall be lull’d to sleep;
And in the midst of this wide quietness
A rosy sanctuary will I dress
With the wreath’d trellis of a working brain,
With buds, and bells, and stars without a name,
With all the gardener Fancy e’er could feign,
Who breeding flowers, will never breed the same:
And there shall be for thee all soft delight
That shadowy thought can win,
A bright torch, and a casement ope at night,
To let the warm Love in!

John Keats
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“Love is that state where the happiness and well-being of another person is more important than your own.” — Robert A. Heinlein

There are some who say that love, ungiven, can wither and die. I don’t agree with that, unless they are speaking of a different kind of love than what I understand. What Bob Heinlein says above is as close a definition that I have ever seen, for a word that everyone seems to define differently, yet believe that they alone know its meaning, while still trying to share it with someone else. For me, true love, once given, never dies. It may become shriveled and old, if neglected or rejected, but it doesn’t die completely. Not in me, anyway…. and I’m the only one I can really speak for, aren’t I? Yes……

Another question that seems unanswered to anyone’s satisfaction is the one raised by Tom Robbins in his book, “Skinny Legs and All”, which asks, “How do you make Love stay?” Again, to me, this is a critical piece of information, and one that I’ve yet to find an answer to, outside the evidence of my own family and friends. With a woman, I have never been able to experience having one remain stable in the relationship, instead choosing to sever acquaintance at some point, and live their life without me. There are, of course, many reasons that could be ascribed for those occasions, but, in my perception, they all boil down to the fact that I was not the one who chose to end the relationship, and I didn’t know exactly what I’d done to cause the other person to choose as they did….

Sure, I can make guesses, but, mostly, after much consideration, I found that it came down to THEIR issues that made them choose their path, and it didn’t have anything to do with what I did, or didn’t do; that was merely the convenient excuse, and easier for them than admitting their own denial of feeling, or taking responsibility for their choice. In essence, they lied, to themselves, and to me. Which, it could be said, is all for the best for me, in the long run…. At least I don’t have to live with lies, as apparently I was for a long time…. Love really is blind, when it is real…

“I believe that it is better to tell the truth than a lie. I believe it is better to be free than to be a slave. And I believe it is better to know than to be ignorant.” — H. L. Mencken

By predisposition of nature, and by experience of my family life as a child, I believe in long-term, loving relationships, where each party is fully engaged in living their life in tandem with another, and has no doubts about that choice. I’ve witnessed many such, as well as the opposite, and don’t feel as if modern culture is such that it is no longer possible to maintain such a relationship; the only factor that matters in the end is the love that the two feel for each other, and what they are willing to do to keep that love, and to nurture its existence for as long as life endures.

Old as I am, I’m still looking for that kind of honest commitment, and have not given up hope of finding a woman who feels the same way….. I guess I should apply some of the skills at waiting that I’ve developed in my quest for SS benefits to the search for love…. and in some ways, I have, I’d say. I’m still here, and still looking, so that’s something, isn’t it?….

“The young man who has not wept is a savage, and the old man who will not laugh is a fool.” — George Santayana (1863-1952)
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I’m not sure how to take this one….. It seems okay, but…. I can’t seem to put my finger on it, but it doesn’t seem quite finished somehow. Ah well, I’ve been over it enough times now that I’m sure that whatever isn’t there will remain a mystery…. I can’t find it (logical, I suppose, as it isn’t there…. ). There seems to be enough to call it a Pearl, once the poem is in place, so I’m going to let if fly…. Stick a fork in me, I’m done…..   Y’all take care out there, and May the Metaphorse be with you…..


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

gigoid

Dozer

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