Dry it off first, then, slice it….


“One may not reach the dawn save by the path of the night.”

~~ Kahlil Gibran ~~



Tiananmen Square with the OYA Posse

Hajime…. Observe, then, the bent, grizzled old man, sitting stiffly in front of a computer, perched painfully on the front edge of a chair, typing quickly in his haste to get down what must be said, while moderating the speed to minimize any errors requiring a stop to repair the damage. Grimacing, with a low grunt, as he shifts in the chair, he leans back, stiffly stretching, then leans on the table for support once more, & begins to type…

For very nearly five years, since beginning to blog here on WP, the only extended absence I’ve had was a few days when the cruise ship I was on didn’t offer adequate internet speed to make it worth the time. Even then, I didn’t always miss posting, as I just left out any pictures to decrease the upload/download time; text doesn’t take up much space, http-wise. When this Pearl gets posted, I’ll have missed, at least, four or five days, with the last freshly created work over a week ago, just when I seemed to be hitting some sort of stride. Since the creation of the daily Pearl has been, for all that time, and, remains my form of personal therapy, you can imagine just how much internal stress/angst has accumulated. Well, perhaps you can’t, but, I, sadly, don’t have to imagine, as I’ve lived through it.

I’m working at this now simply as a distraction, taken for a short time to think of something other than the sharp pain in my lower back and right hip, a song of lamentation, sung in concert with the usual pantheon of irritated nerve endings which live to complain at the top of their inner vocal range. Mostly I can tune them out, or sing accompaniment louder to drown them out, at least long enough to get some thoughts down on screen. When the main melody becomes stridently piercing, like an alto soprano in full flight through an aria in the high C, glass-shattering range, it becomes too much to think, much less, hold still long enough in a position that exacerbates the tune’s volume, to get much done in the way of coherent composition.

Here I am anyway, for the nonce, to release some of the pressure, while simultaneously continuing the major effort involved in fixing what is wrong with my physical persona, which, in spite of any thoughts we might entertain to the contrary, cannot be separated from the psychic/mental persona, at any junction or point. They are one and the same; trying to act otherwise is generally how we go wrong in the first place, so, it’s well to begin the correction process with a reminder of that, so our efforts can address the complete picture/issue, & not forget any part of what is needed.

With all that said, we’ll now return to relatively normal space/time, to rejoin today’s exploration of consensual reality where I had originally begun, several days ago. What follows has been patched together in five to ten minute increments over the past week or so; since it’s all a wash, whatever happens, no matter how long, or short, or cogent, or silly, will have to do, for it’s what there is, & I ain’t a gonna do it again. First time damn near killed me, as is…. Let’s see now, where did I put that? Oh, right… Okay, let’s go….

“A beginning is the time for taking the most delicate care that balances are correct.”

~~ from “Manual of Maud’Dib” by the Princess Irulan ~~

This Pearl has been a difficult one to work on, for a number of reasons. First, as reported, I’m fighting my demons almost full time. In the process, I made some attempts to reconnect with reality, part of which involved going out to be social, at a bar. Friday last, the 29th of July, in fact, I walked to a nearby establishment, actually having a decent time, then cutting myself off at a decent level, (well pre-inebriation to excess, a good sign), to take the walk home. ‘Twas a fine night, and the walk was pleasant, as it naturally would have to be, with half-a-snoot-full of prime bourbon on board….

“The Law of Unintended Consequences carries it own penalties…”

~~ Smart Bee ~~

Does anyone else see the problem here? No? Well, allow me to continue, then….

For a couple weeks, since first walking by the route taken to the bar, (though, those times, to somewhere else), I had noticed a small puppy, quite good looking, and friendly, if excitable, in a small enclosure overlooking the sidewalk, not situated in a good spot for a pet, right in the sun, with no shade. There was water, and food, but, nobody was ever around, at any of the various times I went by; the dog was, naturally, starved for attention. He was there on Friday, still in good cheer, though not as happy as usual. I told him if nobody was around when I came back, I’d say hello again, & went on my way….

Got it now? No? Okay, full confession, then…. On the way home from the bar, I stopped to greet the dog, who was happy to have the attention. Since my judgment was gone, into the bottle, I decided to ‘rescue’ the dog, if possible. I went to the door & offered the people $20 for the dog. They turned him over without a whimper of protest, telling me I’d done the right thing. I took the food, and tied one of my ropes to the pup’s collar, & off we went home…. where we were greeted by a very unhappy cat. I got the dog & cat separated, & quieted down enough for all of us to get to sleep….

For the next day and a half, I tried to find a place for the dog, unsuccessfully, while acting as simultaneous animal trainer, referee, and apologist to a cat for subjecting her to such an outrage. She was NOT pleased, to be sure, thought the pup was ecstatic… and therefore boisterous. This, it seems where the law of unintended consequence steps in, you see….

I was a responsible dog owner while he was with us, meaning I walked him at least twice, or three times a day…. As it turns out, walking a boisterous puppy, with no training of how to behave on a leash, is a physical strain on the parts of my body that are not capable of such wear and tear any longer…. By Monday morning, I was in sheer agony, with my lower back and hip on fire, causing spasms and anguish in the other muscles, to the point I could not get out of bed, at all. To my undying embarrassment, I had to call my daughter to come rescue me. and the dog & cat….

I’ve dragged this out about as far as possible, with not much more to go, so, I’ll merely say at this point, this was an act of compassion, for which I am paying a heavy price, with some rather intimidating implications for the future, given my reaction to the strain. I have been unable to write, or sit, or stand, or even lie down for long, without pain interrupting with sharp complaints. It will pass, with rest and the right approach, but, it’s slow, and, damn, it hurts. But, I did the right thing, and the dog, now with a pet rescue organization who will find him a good home, will be a much happier dog. So be it. I’ll take the pain as part of the duty, and be fine with it….

Since that’s probably the longest intro to a Pearl, ever, let’s get to the rest of it, which I’ve been working on for over a week. It’s all fresh, complete with a new poem, and I hope y’all enjoy the output…. Let’s do this, before I forget how….

Shall we pearl?….

“Few, if any, children survive to their teens.
Most surrender to the vague but murderous pressure of adult conformity.”

~~ Maya Angelou ~~



Go figure, eh?…. It’s both a great performance of a iconic piece of music, and, a pearl of virtual wisdom, with a message….






Dont keep calm

“The disappearance of a sense of responsibility
is the most far-reaching consequence of submission to authority.”

~~ Stanley Milgram ~~

“Collective responsibility brings a lowering of moral standards.”

~~ Freeman Dyson ~~

“No snowflake in an avalanche ever feels responsible.”

~~ Stanislaw Lem ~~

The three quotes you see above are an example of why I pearl, at all. Each of them is a statement which essentially says the same thing, yet each is distilled, and presented, in such a way the wisdom contained is made clear by its simplicity. Together, they bring to the reader a concept I hold to be the single most critical failure of the American people, and the primary reason they have become willing, if unwitting, slaves….

When beginning this Pearl, I’d intended to produce a considerable rant, if only to show myself I still can do so. The physical constraints I’m currently experiencing has prevented such an event, as I am still in considerable pain when sitting before the computer. So, I’m going to do us all a small favor, and leave today’s lesson at that. I’ll add two more pearls. The first, from our old friend Albert, is echoed by my own feelings on the matter of government sponsored killing, which is made possible by the above clearly cowardly abrogation of honor by most of the American public. Albert states what ought to be a common feeling, and, is not….

“He who joyfully marches to music rank and file, has already earned my contempt. He has been given a large brain by mistake, since for him the spinal cord would surely suffice. This disgrace to civilization should be done away with at once. Heroism at command, how violently I hate all this, how despicable and ignoble war is; I would rather be torn to shreds than be a part of so base an action. It is my conviction that killing under the cloak of war is nothing but an act of murder.” — Albert Einstein

Lastly, I give you Emily, for, in spite of how bad things are, or how bad they get, for some reason, I cannot seem to give up hoping we can pull it off, and survive the consequences of our own idiocy… Maybe we will, maybe we won’t; the hope doesn’t seem to want to die….

Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul
And sings the tune without the words
And never stops at all.

And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.

I’ve heard it in the chillest land
And on the strangest sea,
Yet never in extremity
It asked a crumb of me.

~~ Emily Dickenson ~~




Patterns exist to bring sanity, if illusory, at best;
follicular, reality seems to slip and slide.
Still, formal insanity consistently fails the ultimate test,
why place faith in answers. from which truth can hide?

Following the music brings us back in good time;
forever seemingly retreats from relevance.
Crazy, time stands still with yet another innovative rhyme,
no burgeoning intentions for sale, to shimmy. or dance.

Folly sits easily upon this brow;
fateful and afraid, entropy bows in shame.
Into the river of time, slowly, forgetful of how
courage gives strength, no matter the game.

Capricious, the muse demands obedient attention
at risk of exhibiting true durance vile.
Bereft, single copies sit unused, despite all intention;
while singular examples of fate pass at the stile.

Seminal events bring their own weight;
no scale necessary, no guessing by eye, or hand.
Only one lesson to learn, just pay the freight;
the music is playing, and you’re part of the band.

~~ gigoid ~~




Naked Pearls

Life at Large


“From hence, ye beauties, undeceived
Know one false step is ne’er retrieved
And be with caution bold.
Not all that tempts your wandering eyes
And heedless hearts is lawful prize,
Not all that glisters gold.”

~~ Thomas Gray ~~

~~ Elegy To A Favourite Cat Drowned In A Bowl Of Goldfishes ~~


“Meddle not in the affairs of dragons,
for you are crunchy and good with ketchup.”

~~ Scott Adams, maybe ~~


“Everything has two handles,
–one by which it may be borne;
another by which it cannot.”

~~ Epictetus — Enchiridion, xliii ~~


“Be entirely tolerant or not at all;
follow the good path or the evil one.
To stand at the crossroads requires more strength than you possess.”

~~ Heinrich Heine ~~


“Never attribute to malice that which is adequately explained by stupidity.”

~~ Hanlon’s Razor ~~


“Do not speak of what men deserve.
For we each of us deserve everything,
every luxury that was ever piled in the tombs of the dead Kings,
and we each of us deserve nothing, not a mouthful of bread in hunger.
Have we not eaten while another starved?
Will you punish us for that?
Will you reward us for the virtue of starving while others ate?
No man earns punishment, no man earns reward.
Free your mind of the idea of *deserving*, of *earning*,
and you will begin to be able to think.”

~~ Odo, The Prison Letters ~~

~~ Ursula LeGuin, “The Dispossessed” ~~


“Do not settle for less than the best your own excellence can command.”

~~ Anne McCaffrey ~~


“It ain’t over until it’s over.”

~~ Casey Stengel ~~


“When the way comes to an end, then change
– having changed, you pass through.”

~~ I Ching ~~



In spite of all the handicaps faced, it’s done. I’m going to post it, so I can say I’m still blogging…. sort of. I’ll be back again, though, with my back in the state it’s in, it’s hard to say when that may happen. I can’t promise it will, but, the odds are as good as they ever were, so, we’ll all have to live with the ambiguity for a time. See y’all then, mes amis, with more expulsion of angst, I’m sure…. You may count on that…..

“Don’t embarrass us.”
“Have I ever?”

~~ Buckaroo Banzai and Perfect Tommy ~~

Y’all take care out there,
and May the Metaphorse be with you;
Blessed Be, dearest Carole, Mark,Theresa, & Richy
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, the dubious

The *only* duly authorized Computer Curmudgeon.


“SCRAM!!!!!!!!!!”- Oscar the Grouch


À bientôt, mon cherí….


8 thoughts on “Dry it off first, then, slice it….

  1. Damn nice to see you back my friend….being a referee is exhausting huh?

    Right now I am having a battle of words with some Jew on Twitter me and Main that is…..he should live here the perfect Trump supporter…LOL

    Hope all is getting better….chuq.

    • Hola, amigo… I’m not really back; this is what I’ve done in small stretches over the last week…. On my way to get an xray of my back, which is SLOWLY getting better….

      I’ll try to get by, but, still not sitting very easily… standing is better, & it’s tough to type from up there….

      Time passes, but, the amount of Stupid doesn’t seem to shrink, does it?


  2. Hello.. mY FriEnd gigoid..
    nice to see you back.. and
    offering your back to save a little
    puppy dog is certainly reflective now
    of a nurturer and a i care giver FOR
    liFe.. very commendable.. i must say sir..
    yeah.. by the way in real life i call most everyone
    sir/ma’m.. it’s that Clark Kent thingy i can’t seem to get rid
    of from
    birth either..
    hehe.. before
    the Good Cop
    Mr. Hyde comes
    and goes.. anyWay..
    i can certainly relate to
    Emily.. perhaps more than
    most as in her poem here i read..
    that i quote hEar too as WeLL.. iN dArk…

    “Hope is the thing with feathers
    That perches in the soul
    And sings the tune without the words
    And never stops at all.

    And sweetest in the gale is heard;
    And sore must be the storm
    That could abash the little bird
    That kept so many warm.

    I’ve heard it in the chillest land
    And on the strangest sea,
    Yet never in extremity
    It asked a crumb of me.

    ~~ Emily Dickenson ~~”

    i read this as a sour-sweet despair
    of the one who has felt this sweet bird
    of hope.. but who has lost all memory of
    the feeling of that.. and perhaps the emotions
    of faith and belief too.. as yes.. they can be emotions
    for most folks.. when pro-social emoTioNs live from birth
    with the MotHer’s Hand or other close to breast caregiver
    that gives that Loving oxytocin nurturing care from birth..
    particularly iN years 0 to 3.. EmoTioNs heal.. tHere
    is no doubt about ThAt.. the NoW happy
    neuro-chemicals and neuro-hormones
    bathe the cells from head to toe
    in peptide way.. and when
    this bird of hope.. faith
    and or belief and all
    the other nuanced
    Pro-social Gay happy
    EmoTioNs do not live in
    our cells from toe to headway..
    life can certainly be a colD and Trump
    place.. i seriously doubt that Trump
    would even notice a puppy
    on the side of the ‘wrong’..
    but that is what Trumps
    do.. and even make
    puppies more
    humans too..
    perhaps.. i shouldn’t
    pick on Trump(s) but ‘he’ FucKs
    WitH mY FriEnds and that makes
    the Good Cop Mr. Hyde come out.. heHe..
    as sure.. i am as gay happy as they come.. NOW..
    but ‘they’ wouldn’t wanna sees my Hyde come OUT..
    anyWay.. the poem reminds me of the old dead zone
    days where i couldn’t feel a God dam thing but pain..
    as yes.. that never ending dentist drill in my
    right eye and ear with no God Dam Pain
    Killer that would work from wake to
    sleep for 66 months named
    type two-Trigmeinal neuralgia
    that a Google search in .83 seconds
    picks up 16,500 matches with my
    user name and thAT.. as yeah..
    i think i’Ve reported that
    pain a noW anD oR
    16,459 other
    instances too..
    but the truth is when
    i was enduring it for the
    first 6 million or so words
    i wrote online.. i only mentioned
    it a handfulXnow.. as the reality was
    too much to even FucKinG talk about..
    like being in hell and writing a story about
    iT.. ain’t what someone does when they are living
    tHeRe for 33 or so months straight before words become
    the first opportunity to escape it all.. like a drop of Lazarus
    water in hell for sure.. as empty shells that flutter in a dark
    oiled bird of pit.. of words.. anyWayX2.. i was riding a bike around the
    block.. in the deadzone as something i could do.. without passing OUT
    on foot.. as standing up the blood could hardly
    get to my head back then.. particularly
    in warm Temperatures in Florida then
    too.. and the lady around the block
    stopped me and said i don’t know
    what my Mother in-law
    would do without hope..
    in her Mother-in-law’s
    ’bout of illness then..
    and i just sat there thinking
    i haven’t heard the word hope in so long..
    that it was kinda surprising to even now
    here someone say it all.. but quite honestly
    then.. i had no FucKinG idea what the
    feeling of hope was.. if i had ever felt
    a smile.. a laugh or what FucKinG
    FeeLinGs even were aT aLL back then..
    the pain i experienced watching someone
    else smile was the pain of the bird of hope
    that never touched me in anyway then..
    i know then and feelless of what this
    place of HeLL was then..
    iT IS A place
    a drop
    of water
    or crumb
    of Food is
    nothing at all
    as all ya wanna do
    is feel just a God dam
    second one more time now
    before you die.. and i suppose
    that is part of why i didn’t kill myself
    as all i wanted to do was FeeL a FucKinG
    I SAY sMiLes at the beGinGinG oF every GOD DAM
    LINE.. i FuCkinG mean iT as i’ve been to a place wHere
    smiles never existed..
    not even
    in NOW
    a memory
    then.. now
    as they
    say for Horatio
    there are places in this
    life that some folks have
    never been.. there iS and to
    live in this place of living
    death is hell
    is hell
    is the
    so IN OTHER words my
    FriEnd.. i can certainly feel your
    pain.. and i am certainly glad i can..
    but the most important pArt of LIFe
    tHere is that i can care now.. a liFe
    IS A
    Trump Place
    oF HeLL.. i know
    Trump lives in HeLL
    ’cause i have seen that
    place but in his case i don’t
    think or feel he’s ever been alive..
    so yeah.. i have sympathy for the
    Devil as God blessed me with the
    experience of living in REAL DEVIL’S SHOES.. then..

    SMiLeS noW..

  3. Darn! Pain is such a miserable companion, Ned.
    Sending hugs your way… So sorry!
    At least there’s a little puppy that just might have a good ending. And I’m sure there’s a very relieved little pussy-cat!

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