But, the sign says it will sing……

Ffolkes,
It is a commonly held belief that Time is on our side; this, I can assure you, is not true, from at least one standpoint. I can attest from personal experience that Time, as has been previously noted, is a big PITA (Pain In The Ass)….. and I mean that in a bad way…..

Some women I’ve known have been known to call Time the Time Bitch, and watch in the mirror daily, to search for signs of her bitchiness, in the form of crow’s nests of lines around the eyes, and tangles of grey in the hair. We men, not quite as concerned with the outward signs of aging, nonetheless have our own issues with the Time Bozo, with no less degree of hatred involved…..

It’s hard on men in general to get old, especially since, for most of our lives, we are seen as, and view ourselves as, strong, competent, and able to withstand whatever the world throws at us, in order to accomplish our duty. This strength is hard to give up, but, give it up we must, as our muscles grow weaker, and we tire more easily, no matter how much conditioning we try to maintain. Yes, it’s possible to keep the worst effects at bay for a while, with proper exercise and rest, and a good diet, but, eventually, even the most athletic of seniors must put aside the bikes, and the hikes, and trade it in for an occasional waltz with your lover….

In my own case, I am incensed at how my body is losing function, as I’ve always thought of myself as invincible, perhaps even immortal…. Well, guess what? I’m not either of those things, other than in a metaphysical sense (We are immortal, but not in a recognizable fashion from our current viewpoint in Reality…..), and to be honest, I’m beginning to understand a little better exactly why there are so many older folks running around with a piss-poor attitude. After a while of trying to deal with the things that aging brings with it, the frustration builds up, and there is little choice but to find a way to let it out…. It’s just too bad that other people have to be in the way when that happens, but the other side effect of getting older is that we just don’t give a shit about that….

It’s the one thing that saves us oldsters from getting homicidal, actually, this license to grump. And, whether or not you feel that we are licensed to be so, just remember that we don’t give a shit what you think about it, do we?…. Nope, we don’t. So, get used to grumpy old farts like me toddling around, trying to get our shit done, pushing through our hazes of pain and difficult mobility (you try walking around with 50 lbs. of groceries, being pulled in a hand-cart, riding buses, when your hip is screaming with a pain level of about 7 out of 10, and pain and stiffness in the back at about 5 or 6, having to stand and wait, freezing, for buses that never came, for about 90 minutes…..), while we try to live the way we used to do, but much more slowly…..

I hadn’t intended to rant right off the bat this morning, but what I described in the last paragraph took place last evening, and I guess I’m still a bit pissed about it…. I was the victim of a bus system in the throes of destroying itself through budget cuts and piss poor management, and did actually have to stand at a bus stop for over 90 minutes for a bus that never showed up; I ended up calling a cab, and thank goodness I had a cell phone, or I’d have been stuck walking, two miles from home with 50 lbs. of groceries, part of which was thawing during the delay. By the time the cab arrived, I was in tears, and excruciating pain; it took me almost a full minute to be able to sit down in the seat, I was so stiff, cold, and in pain….

Ah well, I suppose I have to get used to that sort of thing, as our society doesn’t place a large emphasis on caring for the aged. Oh, there’s a lot of talk about respecting seniors, and showing them we care, but, I’m afraid I have to tell you, it’s all just smoke and mirrors…. When it comes down to the sticking point, senior programs are among the first to get budget cuts, far ahead of any cuts to the military, or to bailing out the bankers from their latest scheme to rip off the public….. No, I’m not bitter at all, why do you ask?…..

“Alas! it is not till time, with reckless hand, has torn out half the leaves from the Book of Human Life to light the fires of passion with from day to day, that man begins to see that the leaves which remain are few in number.” — Henry W. Longfellow (1807-1882) — Hyperion, Book iv, Chap. viii

Fuck it…. There isn’t anything I can do about it, so I may as well just bury it, down deep where all the other stuff is kept, the stuff I hate, but can’t do anything about…. That’s okay, though…. all that angst, and bitterness, will sit in there with the other stuff, and percolate, much like compost, until it comes bursting out sometime in the future, as a poem, or a steamy, messy, vicious indictment/rant against….. well, somebody…. In the meantime, I guess the only thing to do is go on with today’s dive, and see if it doesn’t calm me down a bit…. Shall we Pearl?…..
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“A sense of humor keen enough to show a man his own absurdities will keep him from the commission of all sins, or nearly all, save those that are worth committing.” — Samuel Butler

Smart Bee showed this quote to me this morning first off; I hesitated to use it, though it seems to lend itself to a discussion, and went on. A few moments later, after supplying a few nice pearls for an old-school format, it brought it up again. It usually knows what its doing, so this time I brought it up for treatment here, though still without a clear idea of what to discuss…..

It’s a good thought, and quite accurate in its assumption of human humor as moral mentor. To me, it seems quite obvious…. Then, I realized that, sadly, there is a significant percentage of humanity that possesses NO sense of humor that can be detected. These folks, handicapped as they are by their lack of chillness, often end up in a small category of life tasks, or jobs, as we call them today….

People without any humor tend to flock together in groups; they may not be fully human, but they do need the company of others of their ilk, just like the rest of us. So, they gravitate into professions where their lack of any sense of proportion, or irony, can be an asset rather than a liability, as it tends to be in most of Life’s activities.

Lawyers, accountants, politicians, preachers, all, by virtue of the nature of their work, don’t need a sense of humor; in fact, it slows them down to have one, as they see what they do as important and dignified, no place for levity. They never understand that, by doing so they are acting as the most hilarious of clowns, while being completely oblivious of how ridiculous they appear to the rest of mankind.

A guy calls 911, in breathless panic. When the operator answers, he cries out, “My buddy and I were hunting deer, and he accidentally shot himself! He looks dead! What should I do?” The operator, trained to be calm, says to him, “Okay, first, go make sure that he’s actually dead.” The guy say, “Okay.”, and puts down the phone, The operator hears some footsteps,then, a gunshot. The guy comes back online, and says, “Okay, he’s dead. Now what?”…..

See? That’s funny, right? Since this joke was chosen by a nation-wide search to find out what people thought was the best joke ever, we may assume it is…. Plus, if it isn’t funny to you, then you may want to get examined by a psychiatrist, as you may have lost the sense of humor you once had; quite frankly, it’s bloody hilarious, and quite true to human nature.

That’s all…. I’m going to leave this here, as I can feel my own sense of irony getting heated up, and I’m liable to start spouting off my own funniest stories…. Given my macabre, perilously close to perverted, and often unexplainable sense of humor about almost everything I perceive, especially if it has to do with people and their antics, that could be disastrous…. plus, we’ve got a long way to go yet today. So, I’ll leave this here, and just say this….

We are all Bozos on this Bus, whether we know it or not; it’s not something we have choice in, it is our nature to be clowns. The best, and easiest way to deal with the universe is to accept this, and not try to force Reality into an unnatural shape to suit our own folly, because when people try to do that, they just end up funnier than usual, to the rest of us, as Reality demonstrates its unwillingness to allow any such alteration. As the Firesign Theater said, so many years ago, “If the nose grows, let it show!”….

“Why is the alphabet in that order?  Is it because of that song?” — Steven Wright
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After my experience last night with the bus system here, I’m feeling pretty lazy, unwilling to make any effort to get past my recovery stage. I’m also feeling too tired to go searching for a good poem, so I’m going to resort to the ultimate cheat around here, and include here a poem of my own, from a few months ago; October of last year, to be precise….  It seemed appropriate for the occasion….. You may have seen it then, but, whether or not you did so, I hope you enjoy it….

Raging at Aging

As old as you feel, we are told, is old as you are,
custom assures such vision will carry us far.
Reality begs to differ, may it be so bold
it is really quite painful, and very, very cold.

The power and strength felt in our halcyon youth
desert us with age, yet another unwelcome truth.
Irony rules our time here on this bountiful earth
as we reflect the changes over time since our birth.

As physical powers fade from this fragile shell,
we learn our mind can serve us quite as well.
The strength that once filled our bones and hearts
is now applied by our will, to more arcane arts.

Life’s greatest gift is our freedom of choice
no matter how often we forget, we still get a voice.
Energy, or apathy, by our will we may choose,
failing to do so, our only way to lose.

Each of us lives in the grip of time and space,
always seeking our balance, our own chosen place.
One must accept reality, for it is true at the core,
all we can do, is all we can do, and nothing more.

~~ gigoid
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Today’s Pearl has apparently been taken over by Smart Bee…. In searching for a final pearl to discuss, it kept giving me a series of related quotes, as if it were trying to tell me which way to go…. Since I’m feeling so lazy today, I have allowed it to pick out a seven star pearl for your reading pleasure, and left it to chance that it will have some sort of relevance to reality….

Of course, each of the following, save the second pearl in line, by Mr. Graham, are worthy of an entire pearl alone…. Even the one by Graham is one I could rant on for a while, and have, in his case, in the past….. But, as I look at them all together, I find them to be not so much a pointed lesson, as a group of lozenges to treat the figurative sort throat that swallowing Reality can produce….. Enjoy!….. They taste almost like cinnamon…

“This universe is a trinity and this is made of name, form, and action. The source of all actions is the body, for it is by the body that all actions are done. The body is behind all actions, even as the Eternal is behind the body. — Upanishads (c. B.C. 800)

“God is more interested in your future and your relationships than you are.” — Billy Graham
(Sorry, couldn’t resist including this, as a contrast to the rational material on either side…. this is so full of shit, it would counteract five pieces of real wisdom…. and any number of pearls….)

“It is even harder for the average ape to believe that he has descended from man.” — H.L. Mencken
(Especially after being exposed to Billy Graham….)

“Say not, when I have leisure I will study; you may not have the leisure.” — The Mishnah

“Having a passionate commitment to social justice does not excuse you from knowing what in the hell you’re talking about.” — Smart Bee

“It is good for a man to eat thistles and to remember that he is an ass.” — E. S. Dallas

“If you keep on doing what you’ve always done, you’ll keep on getting what you’ve always got.” — W.L. Bateman
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As I sit here on my sore butt, it occurs to me that I need to get a better chair….. Any who, I’m done for now…. After a short break to clear out the cobwebs, we’ll see how it came out….. Hmm…. well, it will do…. Actually, considering the struggle I’m having today just to keep from screaming at something or somebody, it didn’t come out so badly…. good enough. I won’t tempt fate any further today…..  Y’all take care out there, and May the Metaphorse be with you…..

 

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

gigoid

dozer3

Mark your place with a curlicue…..

Ffolkes,
These first moments of the day after arising can be a serene, comforting time, on those wonderful mornings when Murphy is occupied elsewhere. There is always such a fine feeling of potential, one of promise and hope. Then, naturally, I open my eyes to reality, and depression crashes back down, filling the world with darkness and despair….

Well, make up my damn mind, would you?…. Which is it, promising and full of hope, or dark and despairing? You can’t have it both ways, not in this house…. although, come to think of it, that might be a totally awesome experience, once…. To feel such completely opposite ranges of feeling at the same time…. it might be entertaining, for a moment or so anyway….

Nah, probably not…. more likely it would just be confusing, as if we don’t have enough in life to do that for us….. Oh well, it was a thought….. I get those now and again, but try not to let them get too messy, and I certainly wouldn’t allow one to drip all over the client’s chair; that one time was an anomaly, I swear…..

Ah hell, who am I trying to kid? We haven’t had a real client in here for ages, and the chair we use for them wouldn’t hold up anyone more than 90 lbs., anyway, so I’d most likely steer them into walking outside, rather than letting them sit down in the deathtrap…. We DO take customer service seriously, even if we don’t have many customers….

Not only do we not have many customers, we have no business. None….. it’s all just another plot device, thrown in by me in a moment of panic, to get me further down the page. It is working okay in that respect, but I don’t think this morning’s intro is going to win many literary prizes for eloquence, or elegance…. I suppose I could use it as a teaching tool, to show how NOT to write….

Of, course, then I’d have to find students, and set up a classroom, find some chalk, and a chalkboard, and….. nope, too much hassle. I’ll just let it lie, like a sleeping dog, or a politician, and we’ll move on to the next stage of this nonsense, whatever that may turn out to be…. It’s still a mystery at this point, as your guess is as good as mine as to where to take this….

Since where I took it worked, I won’t bother to detail the direction, but will merely accept the change without objection, and move on…. And, since it DID work, at least in one sense (all that is required by law….), I can legally get on with the rest of today’s effort without having to concern myself with finding a lawyer to save my ass. It’s always a good thing to avoid litigation when possible, yes? Yes…. Shall we Pearl?…..
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“Trust your hunches.  They’re usually based on facts filed away just below the conscious level.” — Dr. Joyce Brothers

I find this to be a fascinating statement, from a person many of today’s youth won’t recognize as a celebrity. Dr. Joyce, as we called her when I was young, was a celebrity from back in the 1950’s and 60’s, who became famous at first as a prodigy child contestant on a quiz show, The $64,000 Question; she later found celebrity as a radio and TV talk show hostess, and a syndicated newspaper column, answering questions about relationships, love, and life in general. She had a calm, friendly, confident manner that was easy for people to accept, and her brilliant mind gave her answers a certain depth and cachet that otherwise would have been lost, had she been less intelligent, or less charismatic…..

What I find to be interesting here is her reliance on the subconscious mind for accurate data resolution and interpretation, and her confidence in proposing that people explore that connection. I was around at the time, and the world was NOT in a place, philosophically speaking, where the reliance on subconscious activities was considered to be a mainstream belief. In fact, it almost put her in the category of mystics and clairvoyants, as far as  established society was concerned….. To many, she might have well just said that we should all become witches….

I suppose what helped in the long run toward acceptance of this kind of thinking  was her documented genius, that gave what she said a certain validity. In addition, she was at her most popular right at the time when society itself was going through some severe upheaval, during the late 50’s and early to late 60’s, so her ideas found more acceptance among the young, then spread to the rest of the culture as the Cultural Revolution went on, and society became more open to such free-wheeling philosophies.

Another effect of that time, that many people lose sight of, is the polarization that occurred in society, as the two intrinsically opposite philosophies, of liberalism and conservatism (as they are understood today….), became the two camps of ideology that would engage in a struggle for control of the government, and society, for the next 60 years, right up to today….. It’s a struggle between two ways of looking at life, and neither one is aware of being under the control of a third party, one that remains in the shadows, unseen and unheard, expect at their own command…..

Okay, here is where those of you who don’t buy into the conspiracy theory of life can skip on to the next section… to your own peril, but, hey, to each his own, right?….. I’m not particularly paranoid about such things as conspiracy; most of the time I think the things the ffolkes who believe in them see, that support their ideas, are seeing examples of human stupidity, rather than conspiracy. But, I am also a scientist, FIRST, and there is just too much evidence that supports the idea that there is a small percentage of humanity that controls the majority of resources (ie, food, land, money, armaments…), and as a consequence, have far more influence and control over the rest of us than is either just, or ethical.

This small group of mega-rich fanatical egotists believe that, because they can, they have the right to hoard all of those resources for themselves, and have the right to determine who should have any access to them. They believe this because they are allowed to do so, having grabbed all the controls (to wit: the guns and money….) long ago, and have arranged matters so that the great bulk of society is not only under their control, but is unaware of being in that position….

To tie this all together for y’all, let me say this…. I have a hunch that this is true. I don’t always have evidence that I can point to that is obviously definitive in the direction of proof of that assertion, but, if what Dr. Joyce tells us is true, my subconscious mind is aware of the facts, and can show me where to find them, if needed. That hunch tells me that, YES, there are a small group of assholes who are in control of society, for their own benefit, and they don’t give a fuck about the rest of humanity…. and there is evidence to support this hunch, even if it isn’t right out in the open where everyone can see it easily.

As yet, I don’t have any viable suggestions about how to go about kicking these punks to the curb; all I know is that we need to do so, and soon, before they kill all of us with their own brand of stupidity…. This isn’t to say they are altogether stupid, or that it is their primary defining characteristic…. but, they are human, and as such are subject to Murphy and his natural law…. So, I suppose it is a matter of watching for the right moment to catch them just at that instant when their own humanity will bring them down….. and hoping that moment comes soon…..

“Do you like “TENDER VITTLES”??” — Zippy the Pinhead
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Of late, I’ve been writing quite a bit on aging, and it’s effect on me…  an occupational hazard, I suppose, for us retirees. Last night, I was reading some WordPress blogs, and was introduced to this Australian contemporary poet, David Lewis Paget. In looking through his poems on PoemHunter.com, I found this one, which speaks very eloquently of this period of life, and beyond, and I’m happy to include it here as part of the ongoing discussion…. It’s a bit long, but worth it…. Enjoy!….

Age Rage

I was wandering through the Nursing Home
In the town of Morton Rise,
Seeking an old and weathered face
That I’d known in another guise,
For Richard Spratt was my father’s friend
That I hadn’t seen for years,
I was going to let him know his friend
Had taken a turn for the worse.

The eyes that stared from the armchairs there
Were blank, and devoid of pain,
They’d taken the pills that dulled them down
So they wouldn’t be restrained,
The nurses treated them all as fools
This gross humanity,
Whose only sin was they’d given in
To age, and infirmity.

It was all so very depressing, I
Imagined my future there,
Staring in immobility
From the prison of one of their chairs,
Waiting my turn to be spoon-fed
By a very impatient nurse,
Who shovelled the food all over my chin
As I sat, and inwardly cursed.

I wandered the home there, room by room
In search of his friendly face,
This Richard Spratt in a cricketer’s hat
I remembered from Ambergate,
He’d batted a decent fifty, while
My father polished the ball,
And took five wickets alone that day
In his bowling, over all.

It was nigh on forty years before
That I’d watched them play as a child,
Out on the green at Ambergate
With the weather, warm and mild,
But the years dismay as they pass away
And my father grew so old,
Now he lay in bed in a kind of dread
As the bell of his lifetime tolled.

I said that I’d find his friend for him
And let him know, at the last,
That he was remembered, thick and thin
For a friendship, forged in the past,
There were days when they both had sunny skies
And met each day with a grin,
But time drew shrouds like storm-filled clouds
And the end was looking grim.

I heard a shout from a private room
And went to investigate,
Quite a commotion in the gloom,
I hoped I wasn’t too late,
And there was a nurse stood over him
In a wheelchair, Richard Spratt,
He’d thrown his meds all over the room
And sat in his cricketer’s hat.

‘You know what to do with your pills, you witch, ‘
He shouted, and turned to see
Just who was stood in the doorway, I
Was grinning from ear to ear,
‘Well I’ll be… You can get out of here! ‘
He said to the wayward nurse,
Who said, ‘If you’re going to be like that…’
And left the room, with a curse.

I told the news of my father then
And I swear, he sat and cried,
Just a couple of tears escaped
That he hid, he still had pride,
‘Life is a trail of sorrow, son,
But we’re all on the same long train,
Your dad and I in the tunnel, while
Your carriage is still on the plain.’

‘What do you value of life the most? ‘
I saw the pain in his eyes,
‘Youth was that great and precious thing
That with age, you realise!
I’d give it all for an hour to spend
In the glow of my lady’s eyes,
The touch of her skin and a hint of sin
But the thing that we love, it dies! ‘

‘I’ve often thought of those balmy days
On the green in our cricket whites,
And think I hear the crack of the ball
On the willow of sweet delight,
I remember your father’s terse ‘Howzat! ‘
When he scattered another’s bails,
Now I sit in this prisoning wheelchair, here
And all I can hear are wails.’

‘Wails from the ones who want to die,
Wails that they want to live,
The future is lost to the best of us
We have but the past to give.
You’d like to know how I feel right now,
Like a leopard, caught in a cage,
If only I could be young once more…
But all that I feel is rage!’

David Lewis Paget

4 October 2012
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“The wise man’s eyes are in his head; but the fool walketh in darkness: and I myself perceived also that one event happeneth to them all. Then said I in my heart, As it happeneth to the fool so it happeneth even to me; and why was I then more wise?  Then I said in my heart, that this is also vanity. For there is no remembrance of the wise more than of the fool for ever; seeing that which now is in the days to come shall all be forgotten.  And how dieth the wise man?  As the fool.” — Ecclesiastes 2:14-16

To look at this, one would tend to be persuaded of its veracity, or at least of its intention to be so. The latter part is the more accurate assessment, because, in truth, this is a complete and utter lie, a lie that I consider to be one of the most egregious of those told by the fanatics who wrote most of the Bible….. “And how dieth the wise man? As a fool.”  What a crock of shit!

Think about this for just a second, okay?…. A wise man approaches his death with equanimity and dignity, arranging matters so that he dies having lived a life filled with the joy of loving, and with compassion for his fellows. The fool dies badly, fearing what comes after, but more afraid to continue living in misery and fear….. Those are very simple observations, based on reality, and what I’ve observed of it in my time.

Vanity isn’t ALWAYS misplaced, you know, as long as it is not embraced as a lifestyle, but rather acknowledged as an amusing form of self-love, one that can serve to motivate toward improvement. Only when assumed as a faith, producing a sense of entitlement based on unreal expectations, does it become ill-conceived, and ugly. (Gee, and doesn’t that sound more like those who preach against vanity, with their sense of entitlement as one of God’s children?….)

It is much the same as with any human characteristic, or emotional state; moderation is the key to handling them with grace and common sense. When people make too much of ANY of their emotions, or their personal characteristics, they tend to go overboard, and act without restraint to achieve their wants…. SIGH…. In this way, as in many, most people are like children, with no control over their own inner self as yet….

But, given their way, the men (very, very few women fall so deeply into the religious BS to become preachers/priests) who want to control the rest of humanity through religion would have us remain children, at least in our emotional responses…. Children are much easier to control than adults, as they are conditioned to accept whatever they’re told by an adult…. If a person manages to get to adulthood without being so conditioned, well, they can kiss that constituent goodbye, because very few of us ever return after becoming aware of how the church is fucking with us…..

Bah, humbug…. I’m a bit worked up now, and it’s getting hard to organize my thoughts enough to keep this on a logical track. I just get so mad, when I think about all these centuries that humanity has wasted under the influence of all those who act for their own benefit, and screw the rest of us. I get SO angry, it takes all of my will to keep from getting up from my chair, grabbing some weapons, and going out to hunt…..

But, then I would have to give up my own philosophy, because, who will play God? If I go out and start eliminating those whom I believe need to be absent from reality, for the betterment of all, then I am making myself into God…. which kind of goes against all I believe. I hate them, those assholes, but, killing is THEIR method of choice for assuming or maintaining the status quo, and really doesn’t fit in with my own choices. I guess I’m just going to have to keep looking for the right way to bring their chicanery out where all can see it, and make fun of it enough to make it go away….

Not the most logical, or strategically or tactically practical plan I’ve come up with, but, for now, it’s the best I’ve got…. If y’all have any ideas, I’d be interested, for sure… We need to figure out some way to boot their asses out the door, before it’s too late…. though I suspect that moment may have passed yesterday…..

“So far as I can remember, there is not one word in the Gospels in praise of intelligence.” — Bertrand Russell
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I’m at a loss for words to express how this one came out…. After re-reading it, I’m almost impressed. Allowing subconscious control works better than I had imagined, I’d say…. In future posts, we’ll see if we can’t expand that little capability, and see where it takes us…. For now, I’m probably better off to bid thee adieu for today, and let the chips fall where they may…..  Y’all take care out there, and May the Metaphorse be with you…..


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

gigoid

dozer3

Malicious exploitation of rabbinical robes….

Ffolkes,
I may have discovered the answer to one of those questions that has perplexed mankind since our species first kicked the sticks out of the crib, to wit: Why do people get so cranky when they get old? I can now tell you…. it’s all the fault of Mister Time, or Mistress Time, if you prefer (there is a lot to be said for the idea of the Time Bitch, or She Who Turns Hair Gray, a name I’ve heard numerous women authors suggest for use…..).

Now, I know you’ll probably ask what is new about that, and I’ll tell you, if you’ll give me  a chance…. don’t rush me, I just got up….

See, and there is the other reason for our cranky pants…. while I was writing the previous paragraph, lovingly polishing the phraseology, the subtle, yet simple answer that had come to me… went. Gone with the wind. Kaput, got thrown out with the bath, done a bunk…. Oh, wait, there it is…. never mind…

So, anyway, the Time Bitch gets us all eventually, and we get cranky because, not only does it HURT, but, here we are, with all this knowledge and experience that we’ve spent a lifetime learning, and these sneak attacks on our breath, strength, hair, and skin have added up to turn us into physical shadows of our former selves. All the things we’ve learned to enjoy doing are now proscribed, due to our body’s inability to meet the physical requirements of the activity. Our favorite forms of recreation or work are kept from us as no longer feasible. This, as you might guess, gets to be old quickly….like us.

So, we have to learn a new skill, called rationalization, also known to small children as pretend, or the world of make-believe. (Well, maybe not new, just a new application for it…..) We learn to say things like, “Oh, that’s okay, I’d rather sit here and read my book, really. You go ahead and swim over to Hawaii without me….”, or, “You guys go ahead, I’m just going to sit here and watch all the people. I don’t really enjoy xxxxing.”  (xxxx, being, of course, one of our previously favorite things to do….)

We learn to pretend that we don’t really mind not being able to walk without a stick of some kind, or that places that used to be close are now far away (such as the floor….), or that we have to choose hamburger even if we can afford steak, because we can’t chew it….

So, don’t wonder any more about all those cranky old folks wandering around in the world. They’re just adjusting to the new requirements Life has placed on them, and it takes some practice…. In the meantime, I think I’ll try to get over my morning irritation with my body by diving into the WWW for some pearls… wan to come along? Let’s go Pearl…..
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“Ever notice that fifteen minutes into a Jerry Lewis telethon you start rooting for the disease?” — Jim Sherbert

It’s a good thing for me I was raised without having to experience one of the more severe religions, because I’d probably have died from making myself feel guilty by now, for making fun of iconoclasts revered by the rest of society. Mother Teresa, Jerry Lewis, Oral Roberts, Billy Graham, Swaggert & Bakker et al, they have all felt the lash of my pen, pricking at them for their hypocrisy and self-aggrandizement. The pearl above describes my feelings exactly whenever I’ve spent more than five minutes watching one of Jerry’s telethons, which have been going on TV since I was seven years old (not quite an eon, but close enough….)….

The sheer effrontery of these people is what annoys me. All of them suffer from Grundyism, and to me, this is one of the worst human characteristics there is, common as it is. Grundyism, a term inspired by Robert Heinlein’s concept of the Mrs. Grundy’s of the world, is best illustrated by visualizing Mrs. Grundy, the prototypical nosy neighbor, peering with one eye around the corner of her parlor window, keeping a beady, judgmental eye on everything going on in her neighbors’ yards and houses, in order to provide her with ample supplies of gossip about which to spread innuendo and lies to her like-minded companions, Lady Nosy-Parker and the church secretary. Nothing that she does is ever a subject for her dissection in her daily phone and back-fence conversations, only the (in her eyes…) morally questionable activities that she observes in her neighbors.

Mr. Heinlein has suggested that the best way to deal with a sentence from one of these less-than-stellar characters such as “I know it’s none of my business, but…” , is to place a period after the word “but”, not bothering to be too careful as to worry about how forcefully that period is put in place. His attitude suggests that blood is acceptable, but mayhem is going a bit too far for mere gossip. Unless, of course, it is true, in which case, applying the period with a baseball bat, though messy, has been found to be gratifyingly cathartic, once the body is disposed of….. I suggest the use of lime and acid in combination; it is not fast, but extremely thorough….

Or, I guess, one could just say, “Go mind your own fucking business, you moron!” or some such polite suggestion, and leave it at that…..Offend them hard enough and they may watch you, but they will hesitate to talk about it…. I’ve found, personally, that an occasional wild-eyed stare at their house, mumbling and laughing maniacally, while fingering the sharp edge of an axe, to be fairly effective in keeping them quiet….. I love to see the curtains drop down over the window in a huffy rush…..
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A man can’t get rich if he takes proper care of his family. — Navajo Proverb

I love this statement. I’ve never seen it before, and it struck me hard when I first saw it. It is the kind of statement that reverberates…. it just doesn’t go into the mind and sit there, smug in its truth. It gently leads the mind to thinking about it, to examine it, and subtly yet firmly plants a thought that grows and grows, until its wisdom is not just clear, but shining.

In thinking it over, I found it could conceivably be used as a basis for a rant against the 1%, and I still may do so. But not just now…. I find it to be a soothing thought as well, and the mental energy of producing a rant would be counter-productive, I think. So, take note of this pearl…. it is one of the shortest I’ve ever made, with that characteristic common to all the shortest of them, to wit: it truly needs no help to make its point….. This is true morality, ffolkes…..

Integrity needs no rules. — Smart Bee
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First Love

I ne’er was struck before that hour
With love so sudden and so sweet,
Her face it bloomed like a sweet flower
And stole my heart away complete.
My face turned pale as deadly pale.
My legs refused to walk away,
And when she looked, what could I ail?
My life and all seemed turned to clay.

And then my blood rushed to my face
And took my eyesight quite away,
The trees and bushes round the place
Seemed midnight at noonday.
I could not see a single thing,
Words from my eyes did start —
They spoke as chords do from the string,
And blood burnt round my heart.

Are flowers the winter’s choice?
Is love’s bed always snow?
She seemed to hear my silent voice,
Not love’s appeals to know.
I never saw so sweet a face
As that I stood before.
My heart has left its dwelling-place
And can return no more

John Clare

As an integral part of my eternal search for lustrous pearls, I save time by subscribing to email lists that will send me material. One of those is a poetry site, Poem Hunters.com; I started using their email service about two or three weeks ago, and have found their choice of poems to be very helpful, and erudite, as well as satisfyingly diverse. I’ve now been introduced to at least four new poets (new to me….) whose work I find to be very good. This is one of them…. enjoy!
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Some mornings go better than others…. on those mornings, I kind of wish I still was putting out five pearls a day instead of three. Ah well, I also like it this way, and it seems to be working well, so, “it ain’t broke, so I’m leavin’ it alone….”  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

Kowabunga!

Endless variations of spiral complexity….

Ffolkes,
If I can convince one more neuron to wake up and smell the coffee, I’d have a functional synapse, and I could get started. Sadly, none of them seem to want to join the party, so I’ll need a few moments here to gather up some wherewithal before I jump all the way in…..be right back….

Well, I managed to find a few old, semi-retired neurons sitting around in the corner of my mind, and convinced them to put in a couple hours for me. My mind feels as if it is an old four-cylinder Ford, started with a crank, and sputtering & coughing like an old sow, but it’s running, so I’ll take it…. not much choice at this time in the morning….

“Inside every old person is a young person wondering what happened.” — Terry Pratchett.

Now that I AM old, or at least nearly so, I am experiencing something I think everyone does at this age, to wit: surprise and dismay, both of which stem from the lack of material in the manual. You know, the manual we all are issued at birth, the one that tells us what we can expect at the various stages our lives go through. What manual?, you may ask….

Well, that’s another part of the problem here. Not only is the manual sadly lacking important information, but the process of issuing them is pretty hit and miss. I myself, like so many others, never did find the copy I was issued; it seems to have disappeared sometime before I learned to read. I’ve heard from others that the same is true for them; they never saw it. So, there is either a conspiracy, or the system has serious flaws.

I know I would have appreciated having a bit of advance knowledge of puberty; it might have made it seem less like unending purgatory. And a little notice of the trials and tribulations of male/female relationships would have come in very handy, too. Then, just when I get to an age where I begin to feel a little confidence in how much I know about life, age sets in, with all its glorious new physical challenges, mental strikes, functional failures, and internal issues. The whole bladder issue is one that nobody likes to talk about even when it is present; nobody gives any warning about it, that’s for sure…..

“Everything has been said before, but since nobody listens we have to keep going back and beginning all over again.” — Andre Gide, Le traite du Narcisse

Ah well, I suppose that if there actually were a manual, most folks wouldn’t read it anyway… If computers are any indicator of how little people use the manuals that come with them, then we wouldn’t have the acronym RTFM as a common complaint amongst the geeks who fix computers….( RTFM = read the f___ing manual! ).

However, I would use it, even if no one else did; being part geek has given me some respect for manuals, though little of that is for those who write them. Those guys seem to delight in emulating Will Shakespeare, trying to make their manual more difficult to read than everyone else’s. I think there is a school in Japan dedicated to teaching students to torture the English language for use in technical manuals…..

Well, enough of this…. it’s all just a roundabout way of minimizing my daily morning complaints, most of which are age-related. It’s probably time we got to today’s program, or it won’t get done at all…. Shall we Pearl? Off we go then….
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In the 17th century, Kikaku, one of the ten disciples of the great Japanese poet Basho, composed a haiku:

Take a pair of wings
From a dragonfly, you would
Make a pepper-pod.

Basho told Kikaku: “That’s not a haiku. You kill the dragonfly.” Kikaku recomposed the lines:

Add a pair of wings
To a pepper-pod, you would
Make a dragonfly.

— Amal Naj, PEPPERS

I really don’t have any discussion here, except to say that I like the solution that Kikaku came up with to the criticism from Basho. I have to disagree slightly with his opinion as to what a haiku must be, but his genius lends power to that opinion, for sure. I like both of them, however…. and the contrast between the two is a clear indication of the power of words, and how they can express such different ideas using virtually the same words in a different pattern, changing only one word from one poem to the next…. exquisite!
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Being But Men

Being but men, we walked into the trees
Afraid, letting our syllables be soft
For fear of waking the rooks,
For fear of coming
Noiselessly into a world of wings and cries.

If we were children we might climb,
Catch the rooks sleeping, and break no twig,
And, after the soft ascent,
Thrust out our heads above the branches
To wonder at the unfailing stars.

Out of confusion, as the way is,
And the wonder, that man knows,
Out of the chaos would come bliss.

That, then, is loveliness, we said,
Children in wonder watching the stars,
Is the aim and the end.

Being but men, we walked into the trees.

Dylan Thomas

I’ve always liked the work of Dylan Thomas, though I find it to be a bit heavy on the emotional scale. His feeling for modern culture was precise as well as broad, and his style of writing strips bare the bones of reality to display the truth that hides there. This poem is one of his more elevated pieces, and as such it appeals to that side of my nature.  🙂  It’s also a good way to cut down on how much I have to write, as my words are less essential than decorative in such cases…. lazy, but efficient, yes?….
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“All of us who are concerned for peace and triumph of reason and justice must be keenly aware how small an influence reason and honest good will exert upon events in the political field.” — Albert Einstein

I have a lot of respect for Albert Einstein. I consider his time on Earth to be a perfect example of a life well lived, as his every action was based on reason and good will, and his dedication to the betterment of mankind was both constant and sincere. This observation of his is one of many that indicated that good will, as well as being an accurate description of reality in the political arena. Today’s headlines bear ample proof of that….

I read today that Mitt Romney has secured enough delegates to sew up the Republican nomination for the Presidential election coming in November of this year. This, to me, is both heartening and dismaying….

It is heartening because I believe firmly that as long as he continues to speak in public, he will continue to alienate and essentially “piss off” enough people to ensure a Democratic victory for the incumbent. Unless something drastic happens, like a five month case of laryngitis, that keeps him from speaking at all, he is bound to spout enough outrageous nonsense to sink his own boat. That much is certain, given his track record….

But, it is also dismaying, in that I cannot believe that there are that many people in this country who believe the tripe that he has been serving up for consumption. His stands on women’s rights, LGBT rights, same sex marriage, immigration, economics, foreign policy, separation of church and state, and almost every other subject that has come up are so far to the right, they can’t see the middle. It is frightening to think that there are so many millions of people who buy into this crap.

In reality, I probably shouldn’t be surprised, as I firmly believe there is no limit to human stupidity, but it is unsettling to say the least, to know that there are that many folks out there who refuse to use the few functioning neurons they possess for anything other than procuring food, and, unfortunately, breeding….

I’m trying to have some faith in the American voting public, but it scares me nonetheless, as faith is so often disappointed by reality. If the election is anything other than a landslide in favor of Obama, then my faith will have been unfounded. I find it unacceptable in any way to contemplate Romney in the Oval Office; we would be involved in a war within days, and probably with our own citizens. Society will dissolve into its various parts, and conflict will be rife amongst all of those segments. Almost every word that escapes Mitt’s lips is divisive, elitist, and discriminatory against one part of society or another, and his administration would create that atmosphere with every ill-considered act.

I hope I’m wrong in my fears. I don’t think I am, but hope so, for if what I think could happen does happen, then the world will become a much more dangerous place to live. If the Republican party regains control of this country, I can see revolution not far off, as the underlying conflict between the forces of ignorance and those of reason will be facing each other on a daily basis, and that can only lead to conflict.

So, let’s pay attention ffolkes, and make sure to register, and to vote. Either way, I’ll be stocking up on ammunition, tightening my own security procedures, and hoping I never need to employ any of them….
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Well, that was a polite little rant, wasn’t it? And I didn’t even call any names! Perhaps aging has mellowed me a bit…. Nah! No way…. Only one day to go to payday, so things are moving along nicely, and I can look forward to eating tomorrow….  🙂    Y’all take care out there, and May the Metaphorse be with you…..


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

gigoid

Kowabunga!

Making final points count double….

Ffolkes,
Been feeling my age quite a bit lately. This is not usual for me; most days I still look around me and see with younger eyes. Even though I know I’ve lost 24 inches (at least) off my vertical leap, and probably a couple of seconds off a hundred yard dash (provided I could make it all the way to 100 without collapsing in shock), I still assume my body will do what I ask it to do. That assumption is not always warranted, but it’s how I feel, and that has to count for something, right? Right…..anywho, today’s Pearls, of which there are only two, speak to the aging process. The first is one that has been circulating the net for several years, at least. But it is actually filled with good, solid sense, and bears repeating now and again. The second, and last, just provides a punctuation point to the first, bringing us right back around to reality once more. Enjoy!

EVERYTHING I NEED TO KNOW I LEARNED IN KINDERGARTEN
1. Share everything.
2. Play fair.
3. Don’t hit people.
4. Put things back where you found them.
5. Clean up your own mess.
6. Don’t take things that aren’t yours.
7. Say you’re sorry when you hurt somebody.
8. Wash your hands before you eat.
9. Flush.
10. Warm cookies and cold milk are good for you.
11. Live a balanced life–learn some and think some and draw and paint
and sing and dance and play and work every day some.
12. Take a nap every afternoon.
13. When you go out into the world, watch out for traffic, hold hands,
and stick together.
14. Be aware of wonder. Remember the little seed in the Styrofoam cup:
The roots go down and the plant goes up and nobody really knows how or why,
but we are all like that.
15. Goldfish and hamsters and white mice and even the little seed in the
Styrofoam cup–they all die. So do we.
16. And then remember the Dick-and-Jane books and the first word you learned
–the biggest word of all–LOOK.
— Robert Fulghum

Dim with the mist of years,
gray flits the shade of power. — Lord Byron (1788-1824) — Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage, Canto ii, Stanza 2

Thus ends another daily blast of reason, or a reasonable facsimile….. y’all take care out there…..

Sometimes I sits and thinks,

and sometimes

I just sits.

gigoid

Dozer

Kowabunga!