Ffolkes,
In life, there are a number of events that occur that cause a great deal of stress to the human psyche. The death of a loved one, major surgery, divorce, losing a job, foreclosure, being falsely arrested, seminal events of many types….. all are guaranteed to put pressure on the mind and spirit…. There is one I didn’t mention yet, but, is just as hard on people as those mentioned…. I refer, of course, to moving…. whether by choice, or force, having to transplant one’s self and property in a new place puts a great deal of negative pressure on us….
Packing, address change notifications, money worries, all contribute to making a move between two houses one of the more difficult propositions to accomplish with any degree of ease. In about two and a half hours from this moment, I have four professional movers coming here, to make the move from this studio to the new one-bedroom duplex a lot easier on Patricia and I, and I am not regretting a single penny of what it will cost, as it removes almost all of the stress from our part of the move…..
They will pack us up, move everything to the new place, and put it in for us…. All we have to do is stay out of their way, then, unpack and figure out where to put everything….. I’m hoping for a stress-reduced day, if not completely stress-free, because, quite frankly, I don’t have it in me anymore….. This also means this Pearl needs to get done in a timely fashion, so I can gear my head up for the big event…. Even though I don’t have to do the actual work, I still have to oversee all of it, and I have absolutely no doubt Murphy is hanging about somewhere, just waiting for his chance to fuck with me with some insidious, insane-making foul-up…..
Ah well, as I’ve said before, ain’t life grand? I’m going to go get this done, so….. Shall we Pearl?…..
“I’m EMOTIONAL now because I have MERCHANDISING CLOUT!!” — Zippy the Pinhead
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No harm, no foul, right? That’s what I always thought was the rule….What do you do, though, when the foul is vicious, the harm is real, and the referee is corrupt? Such is the case we have here in Amurrica, land of the fee…. and that’s not a typo…. I have a lot to do today, and, thus, have not enough time to rant, but, I have some thoughts on the developing problems in Syria, one of a long line of Middle Eastern situations rife with potentially disastrous consequences for all of us…. Not just the military, or the government, or them, or us….. I mean ALL of us…. If this one gets out of hand, the whole ball of wax could melt in the ensuing fracas….
Jon Carroll has been one of my favorite columnists for a long time now….. He is erudite, intelligent, compassionate, and generally seems to have the same view of events that I do, in the sense that we tend to disapprove of the same habits shown by the BRC….. His take on things often points out parts of the issue that other people may gloss over, or miss completely; he is able to pinpoint those issues with great accuracy, and excellent common sense…. This article meets all those standards…. enjoy this, if you will, in place of my rant on this subject, which will come in a few days, after I’ve gotten settled in the new place, and further developments have occurred overseas…
http://www.sfgate.com/entertainment/carroll/article/The-upcoming-unfortunate-war-with-Syria-4772410.php
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Today’s poem has no meaning, beyond the fact that I liked it… it isn’t here because of any deeper meaning, or because it fits in…. I just like it….
All out of doors looked darkly in at him
Through the thin frost, almost in separate stars,
That gathers on the pane in empty rooms.
What kept his eyes from giving back the gaze
Was the lamp tilted near them in his hand.
What kept him from remembering what it was
That brought him to that creaking room was age.
He stood with barrels round him — at a loss.
And having scared the cellar under him
In clomping there, he scared it once again
In clomping off; — and scared the outer night,
Which has its sounds, familiar, like the roar
Of trees and crack of branches, common things,
But nothing so like beating on a box.
A light he was to no one but himself
Where now he sat, concerned with he knew what,
A quiet light, and then not even that.
He consigned to the moon, such as she was,
So late-arising, to the broken moon
As better than the sun in any case
For such a charge, his snow upon the roof,
His icicles along the wall to keep;
And slept. The log that shifted with a jolt
Once in the stove, disturbed him and he shifted,
And eased his heavy breathing, but still slept.
One aged man — one man — can’t keep a house,
A farm, a countryside, or if he can,
It’s thus he does it of a winter night.
~~ Robert Frost ~~
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As time is of the essence, I have to go into the archives today, to pull out something appropriate for this section… I found a good pearl, from early this year, and it will do just fine…. enjoy!….
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“Can I leave now? My brain is full.” — Smart Bee
I’m not sure exactly why, but this appeals to me; I’ve felt this way often, and can empathize strongly with whoever wrote it….. In its quiet little way, it also points at my own current state of mind, in that I seem to be out of outrage…. There are so many examples in my perception, of the evil being done every day, by the government, by churches, by random assholes with more testosterone than brains, I’m finding it hard to pick out just one or two to rant about…. For me, that is a disastrous state to be caught in, since much of what I do here involves ranting about stuff that tickles my outrage….
I suppose y’all might just be laughing at me just now, as this may seem like a minor complaint…. and, in a cosmic sense, it really is. But, lest we forget, MY cosmos is the one being affected, which will affect what I write about, and when, and how much, and y’all will be the ones that have to deal with the fallout….. You’ll be singing a different song, then, I’ll wager…. Ripples in the pond, don’t’cha know?….
This isn’t to say that’s what I WANT to happen; I’ve given my opinion previously on how much I dislike being unable to write something, whether it’s a rant, or an old-school pearl, or a poem…. Writing has become for me as important as reading, and I’ll consider writing ANYTHING, if it seems even the slightest bit intriguing, just like I’ll read just about ANYTHING, including milk cartons and cereal boxes, if that’s all there is to read…. Now, writing has assumed an equal importance in my scheme, and any glitches in the process can stimulate worry…. mankind’s true nemesis….
“More people have died of worry, than ever bled to death.” — Lazarus Long…..
Rather than spending any significant amount of time worrying, I decided to seize on what I had, and just jump in & start writing…. So far, it isn’t too shabby, but needs…. something…. aha! A hook…. I need a hook…. okay, let’s see what we have laying about….. Nope, nada damn thing to be seen anywhere in the vicinity, which kicks the worrying up a notch or two, for sure…. Calliope has deserted me for other parts, the headlines are too bland to get worked up about, and the Westboro Baptist Church of Fools has been strangely silent of late…. All I have here, as I gaze around the room in pathetic hope, are the same old items I’ve been looking at for seven months now, since moving here…. most of which has either been already explored, or isn’t worth mentioning….
I see now I should have perhaps prepared for this a bit better; research is always useful, and it would be nice to not have to get all antsy just because my imagination is coming up empty. Whining about it isn’t going to help, or solve the issue, so we’ll skip right by that, and go into strategic planning mode, followed by a dip into tactical operations mode, and we’re home free…. Let’s see now, first, a small diversion… I can do that…. Look, over there! It’s a pearl!….
“Why can’t we ever attempt to solve a problem in this country without having a ‘War’ on it?” — Rich Thomson
Now, THERE’s a question for the BRC, but I’m afraid it wouldn’t get as much response as we’d like…. Good strategy demands, after a diversion, a foray out into enemy territory, to gather intelligence…. so….
“All power rests on hierarchy: An army is nothing but a well-organized lynch mob.” — Edward Abbey
Okay, that’s intelligent…. now, we shoot back…..
“If a million people believe a foolish thing, it is still a foolish thing.” — Anatole France
Yep, that had to hurt…. Okay, so now, all we have to do to have achieved our strategic goal is to finish them off with unassailable logic, combined with a bit of humor…. no worries…
“Any fool can know. The point is to understand.” — Albert Einstein
“It’s not the pace of life that bothers me, it’s the sudden stop at the end.” — Hobbes
See? It’s all in the wrist…. Using two pearls for the last thought was deliberate, though it helped that both of them came up one after the other, as if pre-ordained…. But it just fit, as the first supplies the unassailable logic, and the second the humor…. and, as we all know by now, timing is everything……
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This has gone more smoothly than I hoped, so, rather than press my luck, I’ll confess to my duck, and leave it at that…. No, I have no idea what that means… do you? Oh well, no time to worry about it now, gotta go start packing what little there is for my part of today’s effort…. there’s always a few things one MUST handle personally, y’know?…. No way I’m going to trust my collection of prized paper clips to anyone else!…. So, I’ll just go find the velvet-lined manila folder, and get on with it…. This, while not completely cool, or even radical, is, nonetheless, done…. See ya tomorrow, I hope, from a new perspective point…..
Y’all take care out there,
and May the Metaphorse be with you;
Blessed Be, dearest Carole…
and everyone else, too…
When I works, I works hard.
When I sits, I sits loose.
When I thinks, I falls asleep.
Which is Why….
Sometimes I sits and thinks,
and sometimes
I just sits.
gigoid
gigoid 