Tag Archives: Buddha

Betwixt perilous ideological sideboards….

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Ffolkes,
Asleep, I lay dreaming I was awake. Now, awake, I sit dreaming I am asleep. Which is true? Am I awake, and dreaming, or am I asleep, dreaming of being awake? How does one tell, when there are no external sources of evidence to check against reality? If awake, am I really asleep, dreaming? And if I am dreaming, what is real? I confess to being confused….. at this hour, with no one about to whom I can appeal for a different view, the edge between reality and dream becomes somewhat indistinct….. It is most likely a good thing that I don’t weird out at weird stuff, or I would definitely be feeling thoroughly weirded out….. but, since I start from weird, it’s all good. I’ll just sip a bit more of this fine coffee, and wait until reality adjusts itself to a bit more clarified state….. no worries!

There are times when I do wish I wasn’t so strange, in relation to the rest of humanity. (No, no, don’t bother to argue…. I know I’m strange, and there’s no need to try to keep from hurting my feelings about it… I accepted it long ago, and now it’s just another part of me that other folks need to deal with…. at their own risk….) Not that I don’t like being strange; there are distinct advantages to having other people think twice about approaching, much less about asking for favors, or “just a moment of your time”.

No, it’s just that it can make it really hard sometimes to write anything people will look at twice. My words, as indicated by the first paragraph, can touch up against weirdness at the drop of a cliche, and it is getting to be an onerous task to edit such weirdness when I’m already feeling strange, such as this morning.

I’m guessing it’s just another little memo gram from reality, reminding me that any perks I may enjoy, due to my inner oddness, are always going to be counterbalanced by an appropriate kick in the ass, and there is no sense or benefit in either trying to avoid any such boots, or in complaining about them. Hence, I’ll just shrug my shoulders, offer a sheepish grin, and move on…..

One section of yesterday’s Pearl was a discussion on the Second Amendment to the US Constitution. I don’t need to go over that again (not after approximately 800 fairly passionate words….), but did wish to note the usual Murphy effect that accompanies much of what I write…. some time after publishing, I found the following pearl, which, as is obvious, is a perfect summary of the concluding portion of my thoughts yesterday. To keep Murphy happy, (always a good policy with that particular force of Nature), I include it now…..

“I believe everybody in the world should have guns. Citizens should have bazookas and rocket launchers too. I believe that all citizens should have their weapons of choice. However, I also believe that only I should have the ammunition. Because frankly, I wouldn’t trust the rest of the goobers with anything more dangerous than string.” — Scott Adams

That seems to cover it…. let’s go Pearling, ‘kay? ‘Kay!….. Kowabunga!…..
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During his 1956 presidential campaign, a woman called out to Adlai E. Stevenson “Senator, you have the vote of every thinking person!” Stevenson called back “That’s not enough, madam, we need a majority!”

Obviously proving he was part of the minority…. Mr. Stevenson was perhaps the last truly rational man to ran for the highest office our country offers. I’ve seen a number of articles about that campaign, and it’s clear in my mind that his very rationality is what gave the election to the other candidate. He made every attempt he could to try to engage the minds of Americans, naively, as it turns out. His opponent, Eisenhower, just mostly kept his mouth shut and let his slogans speak for him, such as “I like Ike!”, and other such intellectual standards, that appealed directly to the American public’s misplaced sense of national pride.

After four years of post-Korean war economic boom, it wasn’t hard for the Republicans to rest on their laurels, firmly attached to the coattails of a war hero…. There was, and still is, no place on the political scene in this country for rationality, obviously, as Ike and his ilk won in a landslide….

So much for the opportunity to see what a “thinking man’s president” might be able to accomplish…. The chances of such a man being elected today are even slimmer, considering that those candidates who can be the most sly, underhanded, and completely dishonest are those who catch the eye, and the votes, of the great unwashed, uneducated masses that now comprise the voting public…..

“It has been said that man is a rational animal.  All my life I have been searching for evidence which could support this.” — Bertrand Russell
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FOLLY, n.  That “gift and faculty divine” whose creative and controlling energy inspires Man’s mind, guides his actions and adorns his life.

Folly! although Erasmus praised thee once
In a thick volume, and all authors known,
If not thy glory yet thy power have shown,
Deign to take homage from thy son who hunts
Through all thy maze his brothers, fool and dunce,
To mend their lives and to sustain his own,
However feebly be his arrows thrown,

Howe’er each hide the flying weapons blunts.
All-Father Folly! be it mine to raise,
With lusty lung, here on his western strand
With all thine offspring thronged from every land,
Thyself inspiring me, the song of praise.
And if too weak, I’ll hire, to help me bawl,
Dick Watson Gilder, gravest of us all.

— Aramis Loto Frope — Ambrose Bierce, “The Devil’s Dictionary”

Perhaps it is a result of having learned to see around corners at an early age, or that silly prophecy made by that supposed witch who scared my mother a week after I was born.  Perhaps it has to do with spending so many hours and days of my intellectual formative years with my nose buried in a book, generally one that made me a familiar inhabitant of the sleaziest, most disreputable spacer’s dives in every far corner of our Galaxy, surrounded by grizzled old first mates from a dilapidated freighter out of the Pleiades, and a motley group of aliens of all descriptions.

I could probably blame it on being the middle child of five, with a neurotic, if perfectly lovable mother, balanced by a perfectly stable father, and four siblings who had no clue how to deal with me.  Or, it could have been the daily ingestion of frozen, processed vegetables so common on our dinner table during the 50’s and 60’s; as it turns out, the benefits of the vegetables were pretty much nullified by the process of preserving and preparing them for consumption. Who knew?

Whatever the root cause may have been, Folly has long been a fascinating area of study for me, and its influence on my life at large has been extensive. My first attempts at blogging, via email since 1998, then via SFGATE since 2011, were known as “Gigoid’s Folly”, and that was almost used as the title for this blog, as well. But, not wishing to tread, even peripherally, on the estate privileges of Robert Heinlein, even out of respect, I left it at “gigoid” with the subtitle, “Exploring consensual reality” as a tip of the cap to Murphy, and Mother Nature’s fondness for him…..

Folly remains a big part of the process of pearling, and Pearling; if that isn’t obvious, I’m doing something wrong. It has been for me a boon companion throughout my life, ever a contrast and strong defense against the powers of darkness and ignorance, always to be trusted to coax a smile out of me, often in the deepest moments of my despair. If it were not for my Folly, and the humor it infuses into my daily existence, I most likely would have bitten somebody, hard, long before now….  I can only be grateful, and proclaim, “May I and my Folly never part ways, throughout all of my days!”……

“A little nonsense now and then, is cherished by the wisest men.” — Willie Wonka (Roald Dahl)
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If music be the food of love, play on;
Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting,
The appetite may sicken, and so die.
That strain again! it had a dying fall:
O, it came o’er my ear like the sweet sound
That breathes upon a bank of violets,
Stealing and giving odour!
— William Shakespeare (1564-1616), Twelfth Night
— Act i, Sc. 1

I’ve been pretty clear in past posts in expressing my lack of enthusiasm for most of Will Shakespeare’s work. To my mind, the greatest part of what he wrote is overblown, heavy with excess imagery and verbiage, and even in the time in which it was first written and performed, must have been a pain to follow just by listening…. sorry, but that’s what I think.

But, at the same time, I can acknowledge, as well, that he was an excellent word smith, and did occasionally write material that is far beyond anything else of its time, or of any time. His sonnets hit that nail squarely more often than his plays, in my opinion, but there are exceptions…. this is one of them.

These few lines of verse possess that timeless beauty that is the hallmark of genius, beauty so great that one can not merely see it in these lines, but is surrounded by beauty that floods every sense. Far be it from me to fail to acknowledge such genius…. I’m no Shakespeare, nor do I consider myself either infallible, nor a critic, but I know what I like, and I like this, a lot…..
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“I was walking across a bridge one day, and I saw a man standing on the edge, about to jump off.  so I ran over and said “stop! don’t do it!”  “Why shouldn’t I?” he said.  I said, “Well, there’s so much to live for!”  He said, “Like what?”  I said, “Well…are you religious or atheist?”  He said, “Religious.” I said, “Me too!  Are you Christian or Buddhist?”  He said, “Christian.”  I said, “Me too!  Are you Catholic or Protestant?”  He said, “Protestant.”  I said, “Me too!  Are you Episcopalian or Baptist?”  He said, “Baptist!”  I said, “Wow!  Me too!  Are you Baptist Church of God or Baptist Church of the Lord?” He said, “Baptist Church of God!”  I said, “Me too!  Are you Original Baptist Church of God, or are you Reformed Baptist Church of God?”  He said, “Reformed Baptist Church of God!”  I said, “Me too!  Are you Reformed Baptist Church of God, reformation of 1879, or Reformed Baptist Church of God, reformation of 1915?”  He said, “Reformed Baptist Church of God, reformation of 1915!”  I said, “Die, heretic scum”, and pushed him off.” — Emo Phillips

(Whew! Whoever transcribed this for the database where I found it was really lazy. They didn’t bother to capitalize the “I’s” or any of the Church names, so I had to go through and put them all in; it’s much clearer to read now, and looks a bit more refined…. but I didn’t change any words, just added capitals, just so you know…..)

Although I had a feeling as to where this would end up, I read it through to the end, and sure enough, it’s worth a full read, just to get to the punch line. My immediate thought was, “What a perfect statement of modern religious philosophy in America!”   🙂

Not trusting my original reaction, I put it down here, then prepared some breakfast, and consumed said comestibles, before coming back to look it over after some inner percolation. It’s still valid, and it still makes me smile, so it stays. No need to embellish any further, either, as I think it pretty well says it all…. Ignorance and bigotry are alive and well, and living in the Mid-West….. in a house, together…..
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Visions of Absolute Truth and Beauty; The Tragedy of Severus Snape

The character of Severus Snape, as revealed in the seven novels that comprise the epic creation by J. K. Rowling, (which I choose to entitle Harry Potter, and The Chronicles of The Infinite Magic of  Love, hopefully with her approval and blessing) is, in my less than humble opinion, destined to become, if not synonymous, at least analogous, with those of Cryano de Bergerac, John Smith the Puritan, or the man from Tale of Two Cities, whose name escapes me (suffering functional disparity as I am from early onset Alzheimer’s, and the subsequent prophylactic application of sour mash bourbon), who said, “It is a far, far better thing that I do than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known.” Sounds a little sappy for gigoid, doesn’t it? Well, you know what? I am completely and utterly serious…..

As I do not know Ms. Rowling, other than through her writing, and her public persona, which is carefully controlled, relatively speaking, I cannot say if it was her intent to create a character of such power that he would be forever enshrined amid the most famous of the heroic willing victims of tragedy in literary history. It is moot, anyway, because she has done so….

Here is a man who spent his entire life enduring unrequited love, love that, in his mind, could have been his, had he chosen differently. Yet, knowing that he could never have his deepest desire without destroying that which he loved, he still acted with honor to do all he could to keep the object of his obsession safe, to honor her and the love he felt, even after her death, and in defiance of the threat of his own death. 

He braved the wrath of the most terrifying of villains for almost 20 years, betraying that master of evil at every turn, to do what he could only hold as his Duty; he did this, knowing full well that in the end, he would have to kill the only man in the world who trusted him, and that he would die because of it. And, he knew as well, that his sacrifice would never be known to anyone but the son of the man he most envied in life, the son that might have been his…..

I’ve read a lot of what may be termed as classical literature, and in all that I’ve read, I have never found a character who fit the mold of the tragic hero any better, or more deserved the title of nobility it implies. Though flawed and miserable, Snape makes the hard choices, correctly, at the most critical junctures of his life, all for love of his Lily.

As Dumbledore exclaims when he sees the Patronus that Snape produces, a doe, identical to that of Lily, the only other human being he has ever loved,  “Lily! After all this time?”  Snape merely replies, “Always….”   Now, that is a hero, flawed and unlikeable as he is….. a hero that will go down in history, along with many of the characters from this series of books that will one day certainly be called “classics”……
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Not a bad lineup…. personal foibles made light of to begin, with a bit of housekeeping, a taste of political irony, a touch of whimsy, Shakespeare, a dip into religious humor and more irony, and a discussion of literary archetypes in modern and classical writing. I think we’ve approached the demarcation between reality and esoterica quite adeptly, without completely crossing over where the border guards might hassle us about returning to our regularly scheduled activities here in Reality…… that should definitely make an impression. On whom, I couldn’t say, but, hey, I’ll take it…. Y’all take care out there…..

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

gigoid

Kowabunga!

Just putt the damn thing, Rollo….

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18

Ffolkes,
Oddly enough, I woke up today feeling odd.  That is to say, not quite wrong, but not quite right, know what I mean?  No? Well, hmm…. okay, how’s this?  As I look around my humble abode this dark morning (well, it IS only 4:30 AM or so…..), and I rest my gaze upon some random item (such as my guitar, rescued at last from the clutches of the pawn shop…. I swear, it’s never going back there again….), out of the corner of my eye, a shadow moves, just enough to catch my attention. Of course,  I look over quickly, but nothing is there, of course.

It’s not really disturbing, or scary…. just odd. Well, having had that word applied to me often enough in my life, beginning at a very early age (four year-olds tend toward confusion when one of their peers, me, of course, prefers to stay inside and reading to being outside torturing insects….. they’re not confronted with that attitude a lot….) (actually, I loved it outside, I just hated the pulling wings off flies part…. sickos, even back then….), I’m not going to spend a lot of time worrying about it…. unless the shadow gets a lot more solid, and makes a threatening move toward me……  “Worriers spend a lot of their time chasing smoke.”– Claude McDonald

Well, I don’t see how I could have come up with an introductory section with any less gripping interest than this one, and that’s for sure and for certain…. quite the yawner, isn’t it?  Ah well, I suppose I can’t hit the sweet spot EVERY day……. I guess we’ll just go Pearl, and consider this a wash….. after you, just down those stairs and through the dimensional portal at the bottom…… I’ll meet you there in just a moment…..

If God goes to sleep will the universe dream? Just wondered…. even if there is no answer, pondering the question has value, I’d say…..
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“The no-mind not-thinks no-thoughts about no-things.” — Buddha

When I came across this today, I sat and thought about it for a few moments, trying to absorb the meaning, which is unaccustomedly obscure for something Buddha said; his homilies and koans are usually quite clear. After some time following the twisting path this sentence takes one down, I had to start chuckling, for I had realized the truth. I think the Buddha was misquoted on this one (hey, it happens….); whoever was on transcription duty that day was tired, or forgot his ink brushes, or some other little peccadillo that caused this particular statement to get garbled.

I think Gautama was just working out a new homily, and the student took what he was muttering as a serious quote, meant to be added to the teachings. Look at it…. he could have said, with different punctuation, something entirely different than this seems to be.  I mean, think about it…. would one of history’s greatest teachers, known for the elegant reasoning and beautifully worded form of his lessons, allow a statement of quadruple negatives to be put out with his name on it? I think not…. I wouldn’t spend a lot of time trying to figure out how this one can help you in your search for truth and enlightenment; you’re liable to get stuck in the same position for a long time, trying to find your way out of the endless loop this koan produces in the mind…. while the boat leaving for Nirvana leaves without you…..
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Scots, wha hae wi’ Wallace bled,
Scots, wham Bruce has aften led,
Welcome to your gory bed,
Or to victory!
Now ‘s the day and now ‘s the hour;
See the front o’ battle lour.
— Robert Burns (1759-1796)  — Bannockburn

One word.  Bagpipes. Okay, okay then, two words; try not to be so shrill, if you please….  Skirling bagpipes. There, that says it all… Maybe it’s the wee bit of Scots blood I have in me that makes me hear the skirling of the pipes whenever I read this from Robert (which is pronounced “Rrrrawberrrrt Burrrrrns!”, with the “r’s” rolled like they hoops fleeing a small boy with a stick. The exclamation point indicates the volume at which it is spoken, or shouted, whichever term you wish to choose….).

Then again, hearing the pipes at all can be considered a hallucination, or a delusion, or at minimum, a perversion, at least in the eyes and ears of the English.  The English still do not have a comfortable time thinking of the Scots; probably something to do with their long history of periodically having to confront large, angry, naked, madly capering, blue men with large, sharp weapons, who were about to do their best to kill them, dancing about insanely to the tune, for lack of a better word, of the pipers.

Fortunately for the rest of England, the English monarchs figured out how to pacify the Scots.  They just began granting public house licenses to every little hamlet in the Highlands, and made sure the ‘pubs’ were amply supplied with Scotch whiskey and stout. They also encouraged Scottish involvement in their own pacification, by also granting licenses to manufacture even more & better varieties and brands of single malt, double malt, blended,  and other exotic Scotch whiskeys.

Finally, to put the cap to the issue, the English cleverly taught the Scots how to angle for trout in the Highland streams, to keep them fed, fit, and healthy (and not occupied with revolt against the king), as well as convincing them they were all fantastic painters of their homeland, so they would stay there trying to paint….. pretty clever, eh? No wonder the Scots still refer to the English as Sassenach, which is, I doubt, a term of endearment….. Google only says it means ‘English, or a lowlander’. (I would say, to a Highlander, there IS no greater insult than to be called either English, OR a lowlander….)  Ain’t history grand?…..

Bagpipe: Stuff cat under arm. Pull legs and chew tail. — found scrawled on the bathroom wall at The Duke’s Wanker, a pub in the back alleys of London….. honest, I’ve seen it!….
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“When you slithered out of your hole that day, and you spewed your venom all over this defenseless 12-year-old girl, you made this court’s top 10 hit list. In a way, the best sentence this court could give would be no sentence at all, because if you left this courtroom I don’t think you would be alive 10 minutes. You are nothing but a weed, a weed among wheat…And when we have a weed, it’s my job to eradicate the weed, because if you don’t you will choke the wheat. Therefore, I’m going to take you off the streets for just as long as I possibly can. It means you aren’t even eligible for parole until you’re 92. That leaves only one more count, aggravated robbery. ..You stole this little girl’s bra as a souvenir, probably to brag about it to your friends later on. Well, I’m going to give you a souvenir of Trumbull County justice. And that is, you will receive a maximum sentence of 10 to 25 on the aggravated robbery for the stealing of that bra. And I hope that if you last 25 years in prison that you remember that souvenir.  Get this scum out of here!” — A sentence passed by Judge W. Wyatt McKay of Trumbull County, Ohio

One down, several million to go…. I wonder if this judge is still sitting on the bench; we could refer all the cases of human traffickers, rapists, abusers of women or children, and others of that ilk to his courtroom, and trust they will receive the maximum legal punishment of which the law is capable…. then, once they are inside, we just leak to the other prisoners what they are in for; I imagine they’ll take care of the rest…..

A fella has to have his dreams….. and in my dreams, I can hear them, sisters, daughters, children, all crying out for help, waiting in anguish for someone to care….. who else, then, will stand up with me?….. During the 1960’s, in times of social changes gone ‘viral’, there was a poster I saw all over Berkeley…. It pictured men and women marching together, united in purpose…. the only caption said, “Free our sisters, free ourselves!”  This is a sentiment we all need to embrace, as valid now as it was over 40 years ago; if not now, when?…..
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Okay, let’s try this….. I’ll lump all these together, and get them all out of the way (translate: out of my head….) all in one swell foop.  See, perfect timing, again….

A new Sports Stadium was completed in Warsaw, Poland, recently. There have  been a large number of complaints about the design, since no matter where  you are seated, you are seated behind a Pole. (Sorry about that, really, terribly so, awful much!)

“I love to go down to the schoolyard and watch all the little children jump up  and down and run around yelling and screaming…They don’t know I’m only using blanks.” — Emo Phillips

Catastrophe: An award for the cat with the nicest buns.

“Hanging is too good for a man who makes puns; he should be drawn and quoted.” — Fred Allen (Sarcasm is the sour cream of wit.)

“A poet who reads their work in public may have other nasty habits” — Lazarus Long (Robert Heinlein)

Elvis Presley had a twin brother named Jesse who died at birth. (Did I HAVE to know this?….)

Yeah, I love cats too…want to trade recipes?

Okay, that’s probably enough of that…. I wouldn’t want to cause any nausea before breakfast….. I feel lighter and cleaner now, with all that stuff out of my head. Hopefully, so do you…. of course, this is not to say that dark and dirty doesn’t have its place…. I’ve always loved mud football at night…..   🙂
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Ode on a Grecian Urn

by John Keats

Thou still unravish’d bride of quietness,
Thou foster-child of Silence and slow Time,
Sylvan historian, who canst thus express
A flowery tale more sweetly than our rhyme:
What leaf-fringed legend haunts about thy shape
Of deities or mortals, or of both,
In Tempe or the dales of Arcady?
What men or gods are these? what maidens loth?
What mad pursuit? What struggle to escape?
What pipes and timbrels? What wild ecstasy?

Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard
Are sweeter; therefore, ye soft pipes, play on;
Not to the sensual ear, but, more endear’d,
Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone:
Fair youth, beneath the trees, thou canst not leave
Thy song, nor ever can those trees be bare;
Bold lover, never, never canst thou kiss,
Though winning near the goal–yet, do not grieve;
She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss,
For ever wilt thou love, and she be fair!

Ah, happy, happy boughs! that cannot shed
Your leaves, nor ever bid the Spring adieu;
And, happy melodist, unwearied,
For ever piping songs for ever new;
More happy love! more happy, happy love!
For ever warm and still to be enjoy’d,
For ever panting, and for ever young;
All breathing human passion far above,
That leaves a heart high-sorrowful and cloy’d,
A burning forehead, and a parching tongue.

Who are these coming to the sacrifice?
To what green altar, O mysterious priest,
Lead’st thou that heifer lowing at the skies,
And all her silken flanks with garlands drest?
What little town by river or sea shore,
Or mountain-built with peaceful citadel,
Is emptied of this folk, this pious morn?
And, little town, thy streets for evermore
Will silent be; and not a soul to tell
Why thou art desolate, can e’er return.

O Attic shape! Fair attitude! with brede
Of marble men and maidens overwrought,
With forest branches and the trodden weed;
Thou, silent form, dost tease us out of thought
As doth eternity: Cold pastoral!
When old age shall this generation waste,
Thou shalt remain, in midst of other woe
Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say’st,
‘Beauty is truth, truth beauty’–that is all
Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.

Obviously, no critical or extensive comment from me is required…. saw a snippet of this yesterday while diving for today’s pearls, and thought it would be nice to show the entire Ode, as evidence, should you choose to agree, of why this poem is considered by many to be the best of the best, the most influential poem in modern English literature in the time since it was first published….. ’nuff said. Just read and enjoy…. or not. To each his or her own…. gotta say, though, I can see why folks would say so….   ‘Beauty is truth, truth beauty’–that is all, Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know…..  Thou still unravish’d bride of quietness, Thou foster-child of Silence and slow Time…. Whew! Good stuff….. and I am a connoisseur of Good Stuff, having read every copy of Mad Magazine cover to cover since the first one hit the stands……
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As I look back over what I’ve written this morning, I am struck, as I often am, by the diverse subject matter included. I suppose it is a direct reflection of how my mind works, not stream of consciousness, exactly, but sort of.  I’m not certain most of the time how it will fly out there, but once I hit Publish, there’s little sense in fretting over it. I’ll just do as I always do, which is to deal with whatever responses I get, one by one, and settle for that. Not a bad way to spend time; I’ve had worse gigs in my day, that is for sure and for certain…… Y’all take care out there……

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

gigoid

Kowabunga!

A twig of myrrh, a rasher of bacon, and a swift boat….

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2

Ffolkes,
The winds of fate are blowing, stirring our nascent memories of future pasts, pregnant with the possibility only the future can know. But mostly, we ignore it, in the face of what most concerns us at the time; car payments, taxes, doctor bills, all take precedence over what might be, or what could be. Funny, isn’t it? All our lives we make the same choices, never realizing that choosing to defy fate, or even enthusiastically embracing it, are both better options for us than ignoring it can ever be. Only embracing our fate, or standing up to it, no matter how frightening, can show us the path leading out of the mundane existence to which our misguided choices have led us, and back into a world filled with possibilities, and promise.

With that little nugget out instead of in, we may proceed to the next order of business on the agenda. Fortunately, I make the agenda, so let’s see what’s there for us today….. oh, look! Here is a nice list; I must have written it down last night while I was dreaming….

1) Answer knock on door; accept $25 million check for lottery win…

2) Take call from magazine editor who wants to pay me for Pearling; verify bank deposit of $5 million signing bonus….

3) Attend White House ceremony awarding me Citizen’s Medal of Honor, for my solution to the problem of world peace (which was signed into law at the world court day before yesterday. The necks of all the world leaders have all been fitted with their explosive collars, and the controls given to children all over the globe; peace now reigns, a bit nervously on the part of the leaders, I’d say….), and

4) Take a nap…..

hmmm, sounds like a solid plan to me….. until the knock on the door interrupts us, let us Pearl….
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“We cannot be more sensitive to pleasure without being more sensitive to pain.” — Alan Watts

Hence, ye profane! I hate ye all,
Both the great vulgar and the small.
— Abraham Cowley (1618-1667) — Horace, Book iii, Ode 1

A plague is loose upon our houses, an unseen and unwanted scourge of pandemic disease, and nothing is being done about it, at all, at all, except by its victims……

In today’s society, there exist many difficult issues and problems that affect all the diverse segments of our culture, not all of which are acknowledged. One of the most perniciously insidious of these hidden and/or ignored issues is that of the deeply offensive existence of the illegal, and in some places, legal sex trade, possibly the worst plague that has ever afflicted our race, one which has, sadly, been present for untold centuries, sucking away at the health, morality, and vitality of society with impunity.

The abduction and slavery of women, girls, and even boys in some cases, condemning them to a life of sexual bondage, is being perpetrated on a daily basis, in every culture in the world, organized by, operated by, and  in the process, making rich, the evil, sociopathic, misogynistic so-called men  whose self-hatred and ignorance is acted out upon unsuspecting, vulnerable women and children, robbing them of their very humanity, and leaving all of them severely damaged, emotionally, physically, and behaviorally (I confess to some hesitation in naming these creatures men. I see a man as something completely unrelated to any of these wastes of sperm).  It is, I believe, as pervasive, and equally as damaging in its hold on society, as the issue of racism currently flooding the news after the egregious, obviously racially motivated murder of Trayvon Williams.  But, I guarantee, the utter disregard for human life, and the craven cowardice of the men involved, the same as is so obvious in that sad event, is no less ubiquitous in the sex trade…. but no one is talking about prostitution on a national, regional, or local stage.

Back before human society became so complex, men who murdered, or men who were cowardly enough to abuse women & children, were dealt with, quickly and finally, and without appeal, by the other men of the tribe, by common consent and custom, and there was no doubt among the other members of the tribe as to the honor of such actions. This is the principle historic basis for honor among men, to my mind, and has been lost, or at least misplaced, as society has become more complex, blurring the once-clear limits drawn to proscribe such destructive anti-social behaviors.

Now that my own awareness has been awakened, my eyes opened fully at last, I am of the opinion that it is time for the real men in this society to take up the mantle of responsibility that they have long ignored or rejected, and begin the process of removing this stain from our collective honor. We, as a group, have failed to meet our Duty as humans, as men who are part of a society, to protect and defend the vulnerable and the weak in that society against the men, and even women, who would take advantage of that vulnerability for their own diseased purposes. To regain our honor will require us to act, with purpose and dispatch, to defend the subjects of our Duty, to the death if necessary.  It is the only way we can regain the honor we have lost through our unwillingness to see, and our failure to act.

In order to encourage the acceptance in today’s society of the need for action against the perpetrators of this atrocity, to hasten the release of those still held in thrall, and to promote the cause of those women whose strength and spirit have enabled them to save themselves from their enslaved state, I pledge to re-blog to this site every post I can possibly find written by one of these survivors who has found the strength and courage to tell their story, for as long as it takes, until my death intervenes to stop me, or the scourge, and those responsible for it, are eliminated from this plane of existence.

I’m happy to note that there are a significant number of these once enslaved, and now empowered women, who have found each other, and found strength in the unity of feeling and purpose that being supported has given them. As more links to their work come to my attention, I will be passing those on to my followers, who will hopefully do the same, until the necessary message has reached enough people who care to see that the needed changes in society are encompassed, not ignored or forgotten, as has been true for centuries now. It can only benefit all of us, and I’m not going to stop making noise about it, period, as long as it continues to exist. You can count on it…..

He took his vorpal sword in hand
Long time the manxom foe he sought
Till rested he by the tumtum tree
And stood awhile in thought
— _Jabberwocky_, by Lewis Carroll (Charles Dodgson)

However many holy words you read,
However many you speak,
What good will they do you
If you do not act on upon them?
— Buddha
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So much depends
Upon
A red wheel
Barrow
Glazed with rain
Water
Beside the white chickens
— William Carlos Williams, _The Red Wheelbarrow_

In poetry, creating and displaying contrasting images can create their own strong responses in the brain, responses that can affect our every act in hidden ways. When you read the above poem, what do YOU see?  There are a series of sharp contrasts in the poem, created in part by the words themselves, but also enhanced by the position of those words in the structure of the poem. This will create a different response in every brain, I believe, and points out what I believe is true of all poetry, for all the people who read it.

In short, I believe that there is a special and significant part of the human brain that is solely responsible for our reaction to the poems we read, a part separate and distinct from that part of us that learns by reading prose. This part of us is connected directly to our sense of beauty, our sense of proportion, our sense of wonder, and our sense of justice. Each of those senses is one that is powerful in its hold on our behavior, and each plays an essential role in aligning our actions with our principles.

The direct effect this has on us is to immediately assign a high priority to whatever reaction in us the poem stimulates, a higher priority than might have been assigned from reading the same concepts in prose form. Thus, it frees our reaction, aiding it in achieving swift implementation, adding power and purpose to the ensuing actions. Essentially, our brains are able to make faster decisions, and develop faster responses to whatever the universe may dole out for its amusement, and in many, many instances, all documented in history, swift, decisive actions have a much higher success rate than do those less swiftly found and applied. And, as we all know, timing is everything……

“Literature. . . is the union of suffering with the instinct for form.” — Thomas Mann

And for the few that only lend their ear,
That few is all the world.
— Samuel Daniel (1562-1619) — Musophilus, Stanza 97
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“Skepticism is the chastity of the intellect, and it is shameful to surrender it too soon or to the first comer: there is nobility in preserving it coolly and proudly through long youth, until at last, in the ripeness of instinct and discretion, it can be safely exchanged for fidelity and happiness.” — George Santayana

This is a lovely and useful viewpoint to take as one’s own, but the message could have been presented with a bit more flair, I think. Perhaps it is an occupational hazard for philosophers to become pedantic, or just plain boring, when faced, as so often happens, with the task of trying to convey a subject of subtle depth and complexity to an audience not constitutionally prepared to receive it. I think the point could be made more attractive to, and more easily digested by, that subset of humanity if it were presented thus:

Being positive in life is all well and good,
and optimism will give you a half-full glass.
But in the end, to find the way out of the wood,
Doubt is a far better way to cover your ass!

gigoid wrote that….. for what it’s worth…..

“It has come to my attention that nothing I never said has caused me any harm. When I am gone, you will be sorry you never heard me say what I don’t usually. But if you had, it would have been memorable, which now it isn’t because you didn’t. I have enjoyed these occasional flashes of silence so much, since they enhance my conversation so delightfully. It is a pleasure for those who do not listen, so they don’t have to hear what I do not say, which is one of the major reasons why I don’t say what I do not do. I hope this clears up all the confusion.”
— Anonymous

🙂
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“It is probably not love that makes the world go around, but rather those mutually supportive alliances through which partners recognize their dependence on each other for the achievement of shared and private goals.” — Fred Allen

When I first came upon this, I started chuckling about half-way through, and it wasn’t until finishing that the reason why occurred to me. At the final word, my mind said to me “Hilarious! What a ridiculously superfluous train of thought, expressed with far too many words, and completely losing the clarity, relevance, and simple grandeur of the initial phrase.” (Well, it was a little pithier than that; my internal editor re-phrased it for me on the way to the page….) This man obviously had far too much time on his hands, and should have found something more useful to occupy his mind for that period of time when this was produced. He, and the rest of the world, would have been far better served had he turned his oh-so-mundane powers of perception on say, bathroom etiquette, or mushroom farming, or something he was more qualified to comment upon; it is clear that if he himself was ever in love, it was with an accountant……. ah well, it takes all kinds, I suppose…..
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“If you can’t say somethin’ nice, don’t say nothin’ at all.” — Thumper (1942)

I used to believe this to be the single best thing a Disney character ever said. And, all things considered, it is still a good policy for maintaining good everyday relations between people; what you don’t say can never be held against you.  But, I can no longer hold it as my standard for all avenues of expression; if so, I’d have to give up writing altogether, as saying stuff that isn’t very nice comprises a significant percentage of my output.  I do try to maintain a certain level of dignity, but with some of the issues I’ve come to be passionate about, I’m not going to limit myself to merely the nice stuff. Positivity is fine, in its place, but I’ll be frank; it’s not universally applicable in certain situations, and I won’t accept it as a limit to my choice of potentially useful actions. In short, it is not always the right path to success, an idea long expressed in our success-oriented culture as “nice guys finish last.”

Over time, I’ve come to realize that there are instances when the civilized man must put aside his civility, and connect with a baser side of his spirit.  If, for example, I were ever to find myself alone in a room with a man I know to be involved in trafficking of human flesh, of prostituting and abusing women, for whatever reason he may have in his sick, tiny little brain, I will not be speaking to him nicely, or make any misguided attempts to appeal to his better nature.  Most likely I wouldn’t speak with, or to, him at all; I’d probably just kill him in silence, quickly, without hesitation or mercy, like the vermin he is; with my bare hands if possible, for my sense of satisfaction, but with a bullet between his eyes if not. And then I would walk out the door, leaving his useless carcass there to rot.  But that’s another story, for another day….. Besides, hearing that might scare Thumper, and that’s just wrong….
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As we approach the end of another morning of self-indulgent self-expression, I find myself unusually tired. Of course, that may be a direct result of only four hours sleep, followed by two hours of unfettered, energy consuming thought, and the creation of today’s offering. Probably doesn’t indicate any superiority of the results of that effort, but it does speak to the perseverance I’ve shown on little sustenance of a physical nature….

Long story short, I think I’m gonna eat some breakfast, and go back to bed for a couple hours. I know, I know, terrible for my overall health, exercise-wise, but much more attractive in my current state than the concept of me outside, running, or even walking faster than a stroll; a terrifying prospect at best. No matter in the long run…. it’s my karma, and I’ll ignore it if I want to….so there…..   🙂    Y’all take care out there…..and watch out for stobor! They’re vicious this time of the year…..

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

gigoid

Kowabunga!

Advents Sadly Unheralded by Prophetic Cheese….

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6

Ffolkes,
Even in the quiet of the hours pre-dawn, Sunday has a different feel than the rest of the days of the week. Why this should be is not immediately apparent, as physically speaking, one day isn’t much different than the next, or the one prior to today. Mere differences in seasonal details like temperature and rain, etc., don’t really apply.; the sun still rises, the planets turn, and we get a bit older over the course of each day. Plus, of course, for our convenience, we name them. (I don’t think a cat cares what day it is, unless the milk delivery comes on a particular day; they’ll notice that kind of thing; but the cat won’t call it Tuesday, or Sunday, or whatever, will he/she?) But, physical differences? Not there….

So, what makes a Sunday feel different? Well, for me, it was a mere matter of a few moments to figure out, Doh!….that it only feels different because of my perception of such. I’m the one who applied the relativity judgment; I’m the one who feels the change in timbre. In reality, nothing has changed that doesn’t do so every day; only my perception and value judgment have given it the altered state. None of the animals, or plants will note anything amiss, and the birds won’t hold back their song, just because a lot of folks want to sleep in the day after indulging in pretending to be Irish for a number of hours the day before, during which uncommonly large quantities of adult beverages were consumed, much to the dismay of millions of livers in this country….. of course, the food coloring industry loves it!

Any who, today is no different than any other day, not according to any of the world’s inhabitants who most rely on its consistency of purpose. The sun will eventually come up in this part of the world, and the plants and animals will greet its arrival just the same as if they didn’t have to go to church later…. which, oddly enough, they don’t…. shall we Pearl?…..
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“The spirit is fascinated by the future, wants to know the meaning of everything, and would like to stretch, if not break altogether, the laws of nature through technology or prayer. It is full of ideals and ambition, and is a necessary, rewarding, and inspiring aspect of human life. The soul is… embedded in the details of ordinary, everyday experience. In the spirit we try to transcend our humanity; in the soul, we try to enter our humanity fully and realize it completely.” — Thomas Moore

Lovely, but a bit overblown, language-wise, wouldn’t you say? This is what happens when a poet tries to explain something subtle without resorting to rhyme. Thomas Moore gets a lot of print time in this blog, but it’s all been examples of his poetry; his prose is, obviously, not his strongest point. Though pretty, in both concept and execution, this basic idea would have been expressed in one line by a competent writer of prose.

Not to say, of course, that poets should NEVER write prose; talent often extends its domain to cover both sides of the creative writing process coin; witness J.R.R. Tolkien. But, in most cases I would say that it is probably best for some folks to stick with what they do best. While complete, accurate, and well written, this piece of insight would have been much better said by my ancestor (we share the surname, Moore) with more structure and scansion, couched comfortably in a pair of rhyming couplets….. at least to my way of thinking (so, that’s what he calls it?….)
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Water wears the rock. — Anonymous

Lately, a lot of my best quotes have been found without attribution. I can’t say whether this is because the database compilers were lazy, or if they considered such basic concepts to be in the public domain, having found it listed with a number of different attributions. Since it matters not a whit to the discussion of the chosen pieces, I can’t say I care a lot, either….. and in this case, public domain might be the right call, anyway…..

The properties of water are of intense interest to any philosopher deserving of the title. It’s unique status as both one of the most common substances to be found in a free state in the universe, and as demonstrable proof of the theory of conservation of matter and energy, ensures that we pay close attention to its qualities and characteristics.

All of us are aware of the power of water to change the face of matter; the Grand Canyon stands as mute evidence of that particular power over the course of eons. And everyone alive is forced to acknowledge the importance of water to our continued existence; a very large percentage of the material our bodies are composed of consists of water, and we must maintain that percentage, or die. So, not only are we dependent on it for our continued survival, but benefit in countless other ways by its presence as a tool for teaching our young, about reality and existence.

Water cannot be destroyed, at least not by any means mankind has discovered. We know how to cause it to change states, from ice to liquid to gas, but destroy it? Nope….can’t do it. Thus it takes on a new importance, as model for our spiritual evolution. By likening one to the other (water=spirit/soul) it gives us both hope and direction. There are a multitude of ancient religions and philosophies who have made it a practice to use the properties of water as the perfect state to emulate in our minds. In the practice of meditation, contemplation of water and its properties is one of the most common mantras used.

Envisioning reality as a still pool of water remains one of the most valuable images we as a species have ever found to help gain understanding of how the universe acts in relation to our quest for peace and enlightenment, demonstrating both the value of assuming the stillness of spirit contained in a quiet pool, while retaining awareness of how a small change to the pool, a dropped pebble, can create ripples of effect that affect the entire pool, or face of reality.

I find it to be a comforting thought to know that our blood, and the water in our bodies, has the exact same salinity and qualities as sea water; it is a constant reminder that we came from the sea, and that it remains there for us, as a place of sustenance and respite, and as our eventual resting place, for all things on earth return eventually from whence they came, in the eternal shifting of the universe to combine the various components into the most pleasing, and most elegant, combinations of beauty and grace that make up the myriad forms of Life on this planet…. all honor, and hail to water, our gift of boundless value from the universe…..
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Hell hath no fury like a vested interest masquerading as a moral principle.– Anonymous, again….

I would say that this is a proposition that finds its proof in the news every day… witness the reaction of Wall Street to the OWS protests of the last few months. Or take a moment to listen to many of the pronouncements made by the group of (insert favorite insulting label here) current vying for the title of “World’s Biggest Boob” on the campaign trail.

Note too, the sweat forming on the brows of countless Congresspersons who are scared shitless that the American people are coming to their senses, and they (Congress) will henceforth be subject to the same laws and regulations as the rest of the American people.

No more publicly funded private health care for them; they can use Medicare and Medicaid, just like we must. No more full retirement pay after one term; they use Social Security, just like the rest of us. If they lie, or steal, or cheat the public, or even each other, they get arrested and jailed, just like the rest of us.

And the best change of all; if the national budget is not balanced by the due date, they don’t get paid until it does, and they automatically lose the right to be re-elected. Currently, they are doing everything they can think of to distract the American public from further consideration of these suggested changes, but I think it is an idea whose time is come.

I also think that the Founding Fathers will be applauding as it happens; I don’t think they intended for Congress to use its power for self-aggrandizement, or for “politician” to become a true profession. I think they had the idea that good men would do their duty by reluctantly serving a term, or two, then return to their natural position among the citizenry.

This would have the effect of making people like Newt Gingrich look just like the common thieves they are, and folks like Mitt Romney and Rick Santorum would be social outcasts, IF they managed to avoid prosecution for meddling in affairs that are none of their concern….. such as contraception, abortion, or trying to force religious principles into law, a practice strictly forbidden by our Constitution and Bill of Rights…..

“Life is but an unfair circle, intertwined among the ruins of my salvation as  a soul of this universe. My humble despair deserves no such fate; perhaps sometime in the near distant future I may live to say ‘This really sucks!'” — Eric Dransfeldt  (Fear not, it HAS been said!)
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The most valuable quotation will be the one for which you cannot determine the source. — Duggan’s Law of Scholarly Research

The source for an unattributed quotation will appear in the most hostile review of your work. — Corollary

Aha! Now I understand the process a lot better…. and I know now who stole all the attributions, just so I couldn’t find them! This explains SO much!….. and gives me a defined target for my shotgun; just look for my most virulent critics, and fire away!…..
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“A doctrine insulates the devout not only against the realities around them but also against their own selves. The fanatical believer is not conscious of his envy, malice, pettiness and dishonesty. There is a wall of words between his consciousness and his real self.” — Eric Hoffer

I may have used this previously; it sounds very familiar. Nonetheless, it bears repeating, as it is possibly the clearest explanation of how fanatics operate I’ve come across in my researches. Succinct and precise, it carves away everything extraneous, and exposes the innate weakness of the zealot’s fantasy that serves as their reality.

I really can’t add much more to this; it would be akin to gilding a lily. So, I’ll just give it to you ala carte, so to speak, but without the usual markup in price….. use it well, it can provide you with both protection from such depredations as suffering their spew, and hours of amusement over their latest antics….
___________________________________

Well, to quote Neville Longbottom, in HP 8; The Deathly Hallows,  “that went well.”  Another day, another freebie….

Just so you know, I do this every day, mostly for me. But, should you, or anyone you may know, care to consider paying me for my observations, I wouldn’t say nay…. t’would be a good thing to be able to support myself by what I write, and who knows? It might even help out some folks who otherwise would go through their entire lives without benefit of my unique, if somewhat strange, take on the Universe and all its shenanigans…. we wouldn’t want to deprive anyone, now would we?…..

Just something to consider, should you ever find yourself talking with an editor of a major news or entertainment outlet…. and it might even be worth a finder’s fee!…… Just sayin’, as our good friend Lizzie would say…. meantime, y’all take care out there…..

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

gigoid

Kowabunga!

The bones of controversy are picked clean….

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2

Ffolkes,
“Beginnings are delicate times….” — Princess Irulan, from Dune, by Frank Herbert

The Princess knew what she was talking about, most certainly. Much of the success or failure of human interaction is determined at the very beginning of a relationship, and in spite of what we are all taught about not doing so, we place a lot of faith in first impressions. This very human characteristic actually extends itself into the interactions between any two living creatures, and if you doubt this, just watch two dogs, or cats, meet for the first time, and note how carefully they observe the protocols of interactions between members of their species.  Or better yet, watch a dog and cat meet for the first time; the care, and the tension of taking that care is obvious in every move they make, in every twitch of a whisker. It is reminiscent of watching an old movie with a ballroom of 17th century dilettantes dancing the minuet; very formal and studied, each move sliding gracefully into the next, to the tune of a lively harpsichord, with political intrigue simmering just beneath the smiling faces. Quite entertaining actually….

How that applies to writing a daily blog should be fairly obvious; how to perform the minuet with all the proper moves is not so clear. Every morning one must search for the key to that day’s beginning; sometimes it is a quick, easy search, others, not so much. Today, we are hitting the middle mark, and will settle for that….. let us now Pearl…..

“Brace yourselves.  We’re about to try something that borders on the unique: an actually rather serious technical book which is not only (gasp) vehemently anti-Solemn, but also (shudder) takes sides.  I tend to think of it as `Constructive Snottiness.'” — Mike Padlipsky, Foreword to “Elements of Networking Style”
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“The art of living does not consist in preserving and clinging to a particular mood of happiness, but in allowing happiness to change its form without being disappointed by the change; for happiness, like a child, must be allowed to grow up.” — Charles Langbridge Morgan

This is a very pretty thought; moreover it is quite perceptive and insightful. Too many folks chase happiness as if it were something they can catch and stick in their pocket, never realizing that a) happiness never runs away; it is always with us, waiting to be noticed, and b) the only way to keep it, is to let it be; it is like a universal solvent, and not subject to the laws of physics, only the laws of metaphysics. Getting caught up in the pursuit of happiness in reality blinds one to its presence; but it is always near us, like a faithful old dog, wagging its tail and gazing at us lovingly until we have the time to give it any attention.

Trying to hold on to happiness, as if it were a piece of candy that we keep in our pocket until we want it, is a sure way to lose it, for it is more like a passing breeze on a hot day than any solid, graspable item of desire. In some ways, happiness can be compared to fear, but as an opposite, a mirror image, as it were; if one holds on tight to fear, it will take over one’s entire being, and never leave. Only by letting it go can we overcome its power over us. But happiness also cannot be held and kept, it must be found by letting it go, and learning to value the changes in life that can lead to its gentle embrace….. allow it to grow up, and become a constant, boon companion in all your life’s events…..
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According to Descartes, “Dittoheads” don’t exist… — a correct deduction from an unknown smart Aleck

I was talking with an old friend yesterday, and the subject came around to discussing the underlying reasons that so many of the religious faiths in the world just couldn’t figure out how to get along with each other, despite the fact that the basic underlying belief systems of all of them preach tolerance and faith in one’s fellow man, as taught to them by their particular religious prophet or icon (Jesus, Buddha, Allah, Krishna, God, Yahweh, Odin, etc…..). Now, when we were discussing it, the subject of the latest pronouncements from the conservative politicos currently taking up far too much space in the news of the day was touched upon, whereupon I suddenly began a rant of monumental proportion, about 3 solid minutes of preaching, in this case at least, to the choir.

My primary point, in response to his observation that I tend to bash Christians a lot, more so than other faiths, was to respond that a) they are the ones who are making the most noise, and the most outrageously ignorant pronouncements all over the news, even in other countries, and b) by the evidence, Christianity has more examples of historical events that prove that the basic tenets of the faith, as given by Jesus, were, from the very first day after his death, twisted and manipulated to suit the private agendas of the supposedly faithful leaders of the church than any other of the major faiths (though they too have had more than their share of bloody moments in history). I’d wager serious money that Jesus would just cringe at the thought of inspiring any part of the Inquisition during the middle ages. And he would certainly have gotten a big laugh out of the mere idea of an army chaplain, right before he began chasing them like he chased the moneylenders out of the temple…..

My rant eventually ran out of steam, but not before I had finished my point, which is, I regard all religious organizations run by humans to be perversions, both of mind, and of spirit. All of them have been used by unscrupulous sociopaths, (who can be quite charming in person, smiling genially as they slip the knife between your ribs) to further their own ends, to make themselves rich in money, and in power over others. One of the most common tales in every culture is the one about the renegade (priest, monk, priestess, pastor, imam, pope…choose one or all…) who oppresses and terrorizes the populace who throng to their magnificently ornate edifices of worship. The story exists because it is true in all cultures; no one denies it, yet they deny it every day, as they return to the scene of the same old organized crime (yes, they are no different than La Cosa Nostra, La Familigia; they just dress funnier….), and submit themselves to their dogma, blind to their own blindness…… and I am comforted, a small bit, to know that I’m not the only American who has felt this way…..

“I have recently been examining all the known superstitions of the world, and do not find in our particular superstition (Christianity) one redeeming feature.  They are all alike founded on fables and mythology.” — Thomas Jefferson
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“It matters if you don’t just give up.” — Stephen Hawking

The importance of this pithy little statement can be best understood by knowing what makes Stephen Hawking an authority on the subject. For those who do not know him, Stephen Hawking is a world-renowned and -respected scientist, specializing in Physics, but his expertise is certainly not limited to that one subject. He is commonly held to be the most intelligent man of our time, on a par with historical icons such as Michaelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci, and very few others. His IQ is not able to be measured by the inadequate tools we have; his intelligence is off the scale to which the rest of humanity is limited.

His work in astrophysics and quantum mechanics has progressed those fields into entirely new vistas of investigation. His goal, he says, is to seek and discover a Unified Field Theorem that will reconcile all of the various types of energy and matter in the universe, and how they interact, with equations explaining how Gravitic, Electromagnetic, Electrical, Biological, and Atomic energies are connected and related to each other. In other words, one world-view that explains all the various parts of reality that we can perceive, and some we can’t.

His intelligence, and strength of mind and spirit, is such that it matters not at all to him that, due to congenital defects, his body is twisted and deformed out of all normal shape. He cannot walk, and so must use a powered chair to move around. He cannot use his hands reliably, or speak without assistance by mechanical devices, so he adapted or invented the technological devices needed for him to be able to communicate with others. According to all that medical science knows, he should have died before reaching puberty; he is now, I believe in his late forties, or possibly older; the only explanation doctors have is that he keeps himself going with will power.

So, coming from Stephen Hawking, the above statement takes on an entirely new, and powerful, meaning…… a precise personal expression of that meaning is left as an exercise for the Gentle Reader…..
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“He is not a lover who does not love forever.” — Euripides

Here is an idea that, to my mind, and my regret, that has fallen out of favor in today’s society. It seems today that people enter into love with a preconceived notion that it won’t last forever, that people change and fall out of love, so one might as well be ready for that. To my mind, this is a very sad, pathetic view to take about love.

I prefer to think that any emotion that has been demonstrated innumerable times over the course of history to be capable of lasting even beyond death, well, it doesn’t die as easily as might be commonly held. To be frank and earnest, (tough for me, my name is Ned), and completely honest, I too have suffered moments where I could envision a time in a relationship I was in would, in fact, fail to last. Those moments usually came, though, when I observed a certain look in my lover’s eyes, a vacant, deceitful kind of look that gave me a hint that they were holding back complete commitment.

In my world, Love is very akin to Duty. As I’ve said previously, Duty is a choice we, and only we, make, and once made, is inviolable. Death, for me, would be an easy choice, if the only other choice was to abrogate my Duty. Love is also a choice, and I regard it therefore as being subject to the same strict laws of observance as my Duty. Once in Love, it becomes an imperative to never fail to do all in my power to preserve it, and to never, ever stop leaving my heart open to feeling it. It just never made sense to me any other way…..

Maybe I was more lucky than I had thought until just this moment, for I just realized that I learned this attitude from my father, who never once discussed this with me, but showed me every day how to live it….. From the day I was born, until the day he died, his Love for my mother, brothers, and sisters was the center of his entire life’s purpose, his raison d’etre, and there were no days off in his world, not from Duty……or Love….. and I know, from his actions, that his Love did not die with him….. damn Skippy it didn’t….
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“In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends.” — Martin Luther King Jr.

Boy, (and boy, does that date me, or what?) here is a truism that just about anyone who thinks of stuff other than the next TV show can relate to; and, it’s is what I would call essential knowledge. Knowing, and just as importantly, feeling this, is what will prevent me, or anyone with honor, from ever neglecting to speak up for a friend, or just someone being violated, when it is needed.

Every day, we see in the news another report of a teen suicide, or multiple deaths of that nature, and it is widely acknowledged that “bullying” of vulnerable teens is a significant contributing factor in the statistical rise in such sad endings to lives just begun. And, according to what I read, it is also acknowledged that this rise, or at least increasingly focused attention on something that has always been around, can be attributed to a rise in the number of people who allow, or are taught, to let their fears and prejudices, and their sense of entitlement, make them behave as common bullies, otherwise known as “cowards”.

I worked for about eight years as a psychiatric technician on programs specializing in treatment of teenage individuals with a variety of mental or behavioral dysfunctions. Depression and suicidal ideation were fairly common, as both are a cause of, and a result of, poor or distorted self-image (some depressives believe themselves to be better than others, oddly enough; it is this perceived difference that feeds the depression by its tendency to produce isolation from others). It is not the only factor in such cases, but a most significant and powerful one.

Bullies are on the other end of the spectrum of types of disturbed behavior; bullying is most easily explained when one understands that the impulse is rooted in the bully’s fears, and the underlying ignorance upon which the fear is based. When the disturbed bully finds an appropriately weak, vulnerable peer, they are compelled to strike out, and the victim is compelled to retreat so far into the mind-set of being a victim, that they become their own worst enemy, and destroy themselves.

I considered it then, and still consider it one of the most difficult cycles of abuse to understand, and one of the most difficult to treat, for either type of individual….. a very thorny problem it is, and one not very manageable in the current state of our society. In reality, the situation is a microcosmic replica of the overall state of society, with all its ills.  Ignorance, fear, and disturbed psyches are rampant, and the more people that are born, the more complex and difficult to solve the situation becomes……

I wish I had an answer, but, beyond doing what is suggested above by Dr. King, there isn’t a lot we can do, at least to my knowledge. But, speaking out is much better than silence, in the face of evil we confront every day….. maybe you can’t save everybody, but you can often save the one we are with, just by speaking up…..
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I guess I had a lot to say this morning….I’d probably be wise to stop here, so y’all can get on with your day. For me, it’s another Sunday as a retired dilettante, just like any other…. so, y’all take care out there…..

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

gigoid

Dozer

Kowabunga!

Custom platitudes built while you wait….

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Ffolkes,
Shadows followed, dark and fluid, as the band of silent intruders picked its way up the narrow path to the castle. Not a whisper of sound could be heard; only a slight background hiss, as the wind blew softly, rustling the leaves of trees bordering the path. No weapons clattered, no feet scraped, no harsh breath drawn; only the silent shadows slipping through the night. As the wall looms above the group, a cloud passes, and the troop is revealed as eight men with darkened face and skin, clothed all in black, bearing strangely shaped weapons that softly gleamed in the pale light cast by the half-moon, high above the eastern horizon.

Still no sound is heard, as the men spread themselves evenly across the base of the wall, facing the bricks. Each man laid the palms of his hands on the wall, and began to mutter soft incantations; power now crackles through the night air, almost a sizzle along the nerve endings. As the chanting continues, the men’s bodies begin to become indistinct, translucent, fading and merging with the wall. In mere seconds, all eight forms are gone, as if they had never been, and the night’s silence covers the now empty space of wall where they stood…..

One of these fine mornings, I’ll sit down and write a paragraph like the above, but I won’t stop writing until something actually happens to the people in the story. It may be this one; it came out pretty well, and could very easily be a good opening for a science-fantasy tale, set on some fantastic planet peopled by a race of beautiful women who need….. some kind of help…. see, there’s the problem. I get so far into a story, and it peters out on me. Oh well, this is mostly a form of self-therapy anyway; it doesn’t HAVE to mean anything, or go anywhere other than where I feel like wandering in my head. And, honestly, I kinda like it this way; I never know from one day to the next what is going to tickle my fancy, and get written about today. And that’s okay, too….. let’s get on with it, shall we?…..
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Buzz off, Banana Nose; Relieve mine eyes
Of hateful soreness, purge mine ears of corn;
Less dear than army ants in apple pies
Art thou, old prune-face, with thy chestnuts worn,
Dropt from thy peeling lips like lousy fruit;
Like honeybees upon the perfum’d rose
They suck, and like the double-breasted suit
Are out of date; therefore, Banana Nose,
Go fly a kite, thy welcome’s overstayed;
And stem the produce of thy waspish wits:
Thy logick, like thy locks, is disarrayed;
Thy cheer, like thy complexion, is the pits.
Be off, I say; go bug somebody new,
Scram, beat it, get thee hence, and nuts to you.

I’m sorry, but once more, there was no attribution for this. It’s too bad; I’d have enjoyed looking for more of this author’s work. It’s delightfully silly, yet strongly written. And that’s why it’s here, simply because I like it. You don’t have to, but if you find you don’t, there’s no shame…. it’s also pretty bad, when viewed from certain viewpoints. Hey, it’s free, right? What else have you done today where you can say that?…..
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“Waiting is.” — Robert A. Heinlein, ‘Stranger in a Strange Land’

Taken by itself, in this format, without the supportive structure of the book from which it was taken, this seems a bit obtuse, too inscrutable. But when one adds in the philosophical background from which this statement springs, a direction is given to the path one’s thoughts must take to find and absorb the meaning, and the lesson, that these two words hold. Even without the book’s help, using the phrase as a focus of meditation is very soothing, almost healing. It may be the shortest koan known to man; I can’t think of any I’ve seen that are simpler or deeper than this. And using it is so simple! Merely close the eyes, relax, and say the words, inflecting them as a question, and follow the march of your thoughts and images as they lead you further inward, toward the center, where balance lives…..
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“You can’t have a light without a dark to stick it in.” — Arlo Guthrie

Serendipity, by its very nature, is always a surprise; knowing that, one shouldn’t be surprised when it happens. But we always are; it’s just the way we’re built, I guess. This little tasty bite of truth becomes all the more savory for knowing it came from the same guy who wrote “Alice’s Restaurant”. In at least one respect, though, it’s not surprising at all; Arlo grew up under the influence of one of the century’s most talented artists, Woody Guthrie, a very perceptive social historian himself, so I’m certain his education and personal paradigms show the effect of that on his intellectual abilities. No matter how one looks at it though, it’s still a great quote, very perceptive and insightful…. may contemplating it bring you illumination….
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‘God says in the Bible’ carries as much moral imperative to me as saying ‘Dr. Seuss says in Green Eggs and Ham.’  Both are interesting books with some good messages, nothing more. — Anonymous

Thank goodness this quote came from such a distinguished, well-respected source; some folks might take it wrong coming from someone of less renown, such as, say, …me? No, I didn’t say it, I just found it, but I can’t dispute it either, as it has a valid point. I’ve read both books, and each is composed of a very large amount of nonsense surrounding some nuggets of truth; at least, that’s what my crap detector tells me. I’m sure Green Eggs and Ham would be just as popular as the Bible, if it also had dozens of chapters obviously written by biased people, who had their own agenda, conveniently disguised as sacred, ‘divinely inspired’ gospel.

That agenda generally includes the unwritten but inherent assumption of entitlement that humans have over the rest of ‘creation’, otherwise known as the Universe. I’m afraid that the Biblical divine mandate that theoretically allows humans to ‘have dominion’ over everything they see, just isn’t supported by the facts in evidence. In fact, the evidence points to humanity being more of a pimple on the face of Mother Nature, and once the build-up of crud we’ve created with our foolishness comes to a head, it will burst, be drained, washed away, and the earth will continue on as though we were never here….. and in truth, were we ever really here, or did we just imagine ourselves?…..

“…to emphasize the afterlife is to deny life. To concentrate on Heaven is to create hell. In their desperate longing to transcend the disorderliness, friction, and unpredictability that pesters life; in their desire for a fresh start in a tidy habitat, germ-free and secured by angels, religious multitudes are gambling the only life they may ever have on a dark horse in a race that has no finish line.” — Tom Robbins, _Skinny Legs and All_, 1990, p. 305.
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“If science were explained to the average person in a way that is accessible and exciting, there would be no room for pseudoscience.  But there is a kind of Gresham’s Law by which in popular culture the bad science drives out the good.  And for this I think we have to blame, first, the scientific community ourselves for not doing a better job of popularizing science, and second, the media, which are in this respect almost uniformly dreadful.  Every newspaper in America has a daily astrology column.  How many have even a weekly astronomy column?  And I believe it is also the fault of the educational system.  We do not teach how to think.  This is a very serious failure that may even, in a world rigged with 60,000 nuclear weapons, compromise the human future.” — Carl Sagan, The Burden Of Skepticism, The Skeptical Inquirer, — Vol. 12, Fall 87

This is the kind of statement that can be used to demonstrate the difference between a reasoned, rational response, with evidence included, to a concrete, relevant question, and an answer formulated by someone with a belief system based on matters of faith. The attraction of such belief is rooted in the ease of living with it; when faith provides all answers, no thought is required to find them. Nor is evidence required…. only faith.

It’s a very safe feeling, to exist with the knowledge that no matter what one does, personal responsibility never has to be assumed. Just confess, and accept Jesus, and forgiveness is yours….. and if someone gets hurt along the way, well, they’re probably heathens, anyway, and not like us…..so, treating them like animals is okay…. these are the same folks who don’t see what is wrong with Americans soldiers overseas burning Muslim holy books, or torturing and humiliating helpless prisoners, and yet want to pass an amendment to the Constitution to make it illegal to burn a US flag. What is wrong with this picture?….

I’ll tell ya what’s wrong with it…. but it will have to be another time. I don’t think I have enough left in me now to begin a whole new rant.  Probably just as well, considering my mood; I’m already wound up, and letting it out now could easily cause a rift in the space-time continuum; we certainly wouldn’t want that. Consider yourselves lucky, this time….. I’ll just leave you with this…..

“The mistake began when God was created in a male image. Of course, women would see Him that way, but men should have been gentlemen enough, remembering their mothers, to make God a woman! But the God of Gods–the Boss–has always been a man. That makes life so perverted, and death so unnatural. We should have imagined life as created in the birth-pain of God the Mother. Then we would understand why we, Her children, have inherited pain, for we would know that our life’s rhythm beats from Her great heart, torn with the agony of love and birth. And we would feel that death meant reunion with Her, a passing back into Her substance, blood of Her blood again, peace of Her peace! Now wouldn’t that be more logical and satisfying than having God a male whose chest thunders with egotism and is too hard for tired heads and thoroughly comfortless?” — Eugene O’Neill, “Strange Interlude” [1928], Act II
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I have a feeling this one may cause some flak; I see that I’ve gone a bit overboard this morning in my discussion on belief systems; it’s certainly long enough. If it helps, no offense is intended; everyone is entitled to their own beliefs. I write what is in my head at the time; some of it is not acceptable for public consumption, and I don’t bring that stuff out for review. But, I also don’t shy away from giving my take on just about any subject that concerns society at large, so those who disagree or actively dislike what I say are free to either stop reading and go elsewhere, or write back with a response. I’m happy to engage in dialogue, it’s a great way to check the validity of one’s arguments, comparing them to someone else’s take on the matter at hand.

I’ve reached the end, finally. Happy days….. now I shall sally forth and carpe that old diem! Y’all take care out there…..

 

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

gigoid

Dozer

Kowabunga!

Penguins are never quite sober……

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Ffolkes,
From a purely subjective viewpoint (which, if you think about it, is all we really have) I am not a crook…..no, wait, that’s for another group. Okay, try this….from a purely subjective viewpoint, people suck major waste. They create major waste, too, but it doesn’t fit the image I’m creating. No, really, I mean, how hard can it be to be nice to each other? But, noooooo, people have to piss all over each other on a regular basis, as if they didn’t know any better.

That’s what really gets me about most of what goes on in the world at large; people do know what is right, and they just refuse to do it. They would rather lie, cheat, and steal from their fellow man, just because they think they can. It’s enough to make a strong man turn to drink, and send a weak one to the grave. There are days when I am glad I’m currently stuck here at home a lot; it keeps me from having to go out and deal with the great unwashed masses too often. Such interactions tend to be bloody, and I don’t need to get summoned to court to answer why I was beating that young man to death with his own leg…… I’d best dive in before I commit perjury or something…..
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Creation sleeps! ‘T is as the general pulse
Of life stood still, and Nature made a pause,–
An awful pause! prophetic of her end.
— Edward Young (1684-1765) — Night Thoughts, Night i, Line 23

Mr. Young seems to have been feeling a bit prophetic himself. If we consider this to have been written halfway through his life, then it was created somewhere around 1720, just the very beginning of the Industrial Age, when mankind first left the path of sustainability. The sky was still unrelieved blue, the waters were clean, and the sunsets were still the same colors they had been for a million years.

By the end of the century, London, and a few other cities of its size around the world, were beginning to see the first effects of pollution, with a rise in such diseases as TB, cancer, and respiratory complications, and the disappearance of a multitude of water-living creatures due to the poisons being dumped into the Thames.  Between the fireplace in every house, the trains, and the factories now blotting the horizon in all directions, the air in London was practically unbreathable at times, until Mother Nature took pity and sent some higher winds or rain to give them a break. One of the most lucrative of employments was that of window-washer, as it only took a day or two for a window to gather so much dirt and smoke as to be impenetrable to light or sight.

This phenomenon was not confined to London, and by the end of the next century, in 1900, the planet was starting to reel under the assault of particulate matter being pumped into the environment by the industrious little parasites crawling over its surface, still reproducing without restraint, oblivious to the harm they cause, merely by being born. The pollution not only continued, but increased by factors of 10 regularly, until, at the end of the twentieth century, we have reached a point of no-return.

The planet’s capability of dealing with what is poured into it is reaching a critical flash point; within the next century, it is a certainty that major environmental events will occur, as the planet begins to slough off the poisons we have created. The polar ice caps are melting and shrinking, at a rate which will only grow faster exponentially; as time goes on, it will increase at an ever-increasing rate, a rate that will effectively halt any more pollution by us, as we will be busy trying to survive the earthquakes, floods, famine, wars over food and clean water, unpredictable extreme weather, and other phenomena we cannot predict. These are merely the ones we KNOW will happen.

So, how do we survive? We don’t. As far as I can see, it’s too late; not enough time left for us to fix what we’ve broken.  Deal with it. Mankind has signed its own death warrant, and there is no court of appeal. We will join the dodo, the saber-tooth tiger, and T-Rex in the ranks of evolutionary dead-ends, another failed experiment.

The only way that this won’t happen, is if one of two things happens, soon, like yesterday: 1) The beloved ruling class comes to its senses, and stops trying to control everything to their own benefit, immediately begins to take steps to discontinue the destructive mind-set they have, and learns to share, or 2) The rest of us rise up and force them to do that, in spite of their stupidity and greed. I suppose those two things are actually one, but the point is that nothing else will work. There is no other way to survive. The people in charge MUST make these changes, or we are all going to die, not with a bang, but with a whimper and a cry of despair……
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“Emily Dickinson didn’t even publish books, she just wrote these demented little poems with a quill pen and hid them in her desk, but they still fought their way into the world, and lasted on and on and on. It’s damned hard to get rid of Emily Dickinson, she hangs on like a tick in a dog’s ear. And everybody who writes from then on in some sense has to measure up to this woman. In the art of book-writing the classics are still living competition, they tend to elevate the entire art-form by their persistent presence.” — Bruce Sterling

Mr. Sterling makes a valid point here. I have noted this feeling in myself, particularly after reading some Oscar Wilde, or Hemingway, or Poe, some Mark Twain, or Dorothy L. Sayers, Bob Heinlein, or Arthur C. Clark (yes, I know, very eclectic. I prefer to call it psychotic…) Just a couple days ago, I commented on this over a phrase from the pen of Mr. Wilde, of such great beauty it beckons like a lighthouse in a dark, moonless night at sea. I can only hope that my attempts at emulating the luminaries, like Emily and Oscar, elevate my art to a level approaching theirs……
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In the worlds before monkey, primal chaos reigned.   Heaven sought order, but the Phoenix can fly only when its feathers are grown.  The four lands formed again and yet again, as endless eons wheeled and passed.  The wind, time and later (??) all worked upon a certain rock, old as creation, and it became magically fertile.  That first egg was called ‘thought.’  Tagahatha (??) Buddha, the Father Buddha says, ‘with our thoughts, we make the world.’  Elemental forces caused the egg to hatch.  From it came a stone monkey.  The nature of monkey was IRREPRESSIBLE!

I found this gem without attribution, so I don’t know who to thank for it; it’s delightful, if only for its sense of fun. Irrepressible indeed! Plus, in certain ways, it is as logical and plausible as the claims made by some of the other religions floating around out there, isn’t it? The logical procession it displays is almost believable, and the mixing of myth, magic, and reality shows a mastery of both logic and its antithesis, intuition.

Living as I do in California, I could say with complete confidence that there is most likely one or more alleged “churches” in Southern California whose tenets of faith resemble this paragraph quite closely. Probably one with a fast-growing congregation, all of whom drive BMW’s or VW beetles. Those who don’t ride donkeys, that is…..
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Calvin: People think it must be fun to be a super genius, but they don’t realize how hard it is to put up with all the idiots in the world. Hobbes: Isn’t your pants’ zipper supposed to be in the front?  — Calvin (Bill Watterson, “Calvin and Hobbes”)

A fine example of how all of us are our own best source for laughter. As a matter of fact, it reminds me of several occasions in my own life in which I held this conversation in my own head, with myself playing both parts. SIGH….. gotta say, though, Calvin and Hobbes is the best cartoon to come along in a long time; sometimes it seems as if Doonesbury is the only really witty one left. Ah, for the days of Pogo, and Odds Bodkins!  Bloom County was also great, but way too short-lived. Hopefully, we will always have at least one cartoonist to help us stay sane when reading the news…..

“Creation is a mighty joke, but the laugh is at my own expense.” — Meher Baba
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“The basis of action is lack of imagination. It is the last resource of those who know not how to dream.” — Oscar Wilde

Sometimes Oscar cracks me up…..this, for example, produced a quick sardonic grin on my face, immediately followed by the thought “that sounds like something W.C. Fields might have said when he was soused”, which was most of the time, if one can believe of him what he so arduously sought to have others believe. Maybe that tenuous self-confidence, that almost shyness, made so obvious in the outer persona of each of them, by the very volume of the oddness, or uniqueness they espoused as a public figure, is what reminds me one of the other.

Both tried very hard to have others believe of them more than they thought of themselves; it seems to me that is what gave them purpose, for without it, the darker, depressive sides of their nature tended to drag them into emotional bogs. Probably why one drank so much, and one chose a more convoluted path to self-destruction, both men’s wit and imagination, and inner-terror, acting as methods of coping with a world that would never really understand them…..
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Whew….that took awhile; close to three hours this morning, and haven’t even looked at email yet; I’m falling further behind as I type, but what are ya gonna do when it flows? Go with it, obviously….. any who, let’s go see what the rest of the world is up to, shall we?….Y’all take care out there…..

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

gigoid

Kowabunga!

Parsing algorithms at the Sign of the Four….

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Ffolkes,
Often times the words flow freely, tripping out lightly to rest momentarily before someone’s eye, then fluttering away to tease and please the children playing nearby. The flow grows, and the the pace increases, the words assume more urgency, more passion, more, more, more, until they are practically exploding onto the page, assaulting the eyes demanding meaning, scaring the children as they rush by, intent on mayhem. The flow then slows, reassumes the passive, lazy feeling of a late summer day, long lemonade in hand, with the only purpose of killing time, killing it so well, no charges are brought. But then, for some reason, the flow stops…… and I take another sip of coffee…..let’s dive in, shall we?…..
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Soon as the evening shades prevail,
The moon takes up the wondrous tale,
And nightly to the listening earth
Repeats the story of her birth;
While all the stars that round her burn,
And all the planets in their turn,
Confirm the tidings as they roll,
And spread the truth from pole to pole.
— Joseph Addison (1672-1719) — Ode

I don’t have any comment here, not of any great profundity. I just like this poem, for several reasons that are too personal to go into just now; it would take too much time, trying to explain something that I don’t fully understand within myself in a way that would be understandable to others. This actually happens a lot to me when I am judging art; I  don’t know much of anything about painting, or sculpting, or the finer points of writing poetry, only what I’ve read. But I do know what I like, and what I don’t, so I just go by that, and let the rest take care of itself as best it can….and I know I like this poem…….you enjoy it too, so this won’t be a complete waste of our time together, what?….
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“I, for one, do not think homosexuality is the latest advance over heterosexuality in the scale of human evolution. Homosexuality is a sickness, just as are baby-rape or wanting to become head of General Motors.” — Eldridge Cleaver

While I can in no way agree with Eldridge’s opinion on homosexuality, I do agree with his definition of sickness, one that goes beyond the usual defined parameters of the concept of sickness, past the physical into the behavioral. Pedophilia can, I think, be placed in the category of something that everyone recognizes, as an abnormality that produces behavior that is extreme, to put it decorously. Unfortunately, we also have another subset of humanity that engages in avarice and power-seeking in the extreme, who have somehow convinced most of the rest of humanity that they are not only not sick or broken, but are just the type of folks that anyone could want in a position of responsibility.

Now, obviously, that’s a crock of BS. No rational person would ever consider taking the reins of power over others without serious doubts as to their ability to do the job well; such jobs preclude any but the most serendipitous results by their very nature. But, to those folks who want that power, it is their ticket to ride the gravy train of public service, and they will lie, cheat, and steal to whatever degree is necessary to secure their desired place atop the heap.

For the most part, we let them do it, if only because we don’t have the ruthlessness and disregard for human rights that are the hallmark characteristics of those who would be king. But then, if we did, we would be them, and that is just as unacceptable. We just need to find a way to keep them as poorly funded and poorly supported as possible, so they don’t do as much harm in their thrashing about…..
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“Look at these three words written larger than all the rest, and with special pride never written before or since — tall words, proudly saying “We the people” .. these words and the words that follow … must apply to everyone or they mean nothing.” — Kirk, “The Omega Glory,” stardate unknown.

“No one need think that the world can be ruled without blood. The civil sword shall and must be red and bloody.” — Martin Luther

The American Dream isn’t as shiny as it used to be; the fact of its existence only contributes to the feeling that it is an unattainable dream, a lie promulgated to keep the ignorant going each day to their little job, eyes focused on the big bright picture of SUCCESS! that hovers ever out of reach. Each successive generation who is disappointed once again, who sees no fundamental changes in the way things are run in the world, soon understands that it is mostly futile to fight the status quo. Thus, the soil of American thought grows to be ever more fertile ground to nurture change, more ready to accept the fact that it is probably a good time to hold the next American Revolution, wherein the forces of reason will battle the forces of ignorance, hopefully to settle the matter, once and for all………. now that we’ve had our serious political discussion for the morning, here are a few thoughts in a lighter vein, if no less sarcastic….

“He who knows nothing, loves nothing. He who can do nothing understands nothing. He who understands nothing is worthless.” — Paracelsus
(But he can still run for President! This is like a job want-ad for a Republican POTUS, and all the current candidates fit right in there….)

“Genius may have its limitations, but stupidity is not thus handicapped.” — Elbert Hubbard

What this country needs is more unemployed politicians.

“Congressional terms should be … ten to twenty with no possibility of parole.” — Walt Handelsman

A little sweet, a little tart, a little savory, and you’ve got a flavorful stew…..
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“Marjoe and Doshen were meditating in a field when Doshen just went and smacked Marjoe upside the head.  “What the hell did you do that for?” asked Marjoe.  “Nyuck nyuck nyuck,” replied Doshen. At that moment, Marjoe ordered pizza.

Hackish humor can be pretty subtle. This isn’t particularly surprising, as working in abstruse fields of mathematics can cause some interesting changes to the mind, leaving it open to new vistas of previously little-known parts of reality. This koan is a clear indicator of this kind of vision; it is true to the principles of Zen thought, while immersing itself completely into modern hacker culture, with an almost calculated  irreverence thrown in for decorative purposes. The funniest part of it, to me, is that I can see myself having this interchange with some of my friends; and, yes, we are all considered a bit strange by the Mundanes. At least it keeps me off the streets….

“Thousands of candles can be lighted from a single candle, and the life of the candle will not be shortened. Happiness never decreases by being shared.” — Buddha
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If reality wants to get in touch, it knows where I am.

Am I a dreamer, dreaming that I write? Or am I a writer, writing my dream? Reality is always a slippery slope, if only because taking one’s attention away from dealing with it can be either help or hindrance. And only in retrospect can one tell which took place….. I always liked the way Philip K. Dick defined reality, as “…what is left when you stop believing in it.” This viewpoint shows both insight and experience, in a man who should know; he spent much of his life struggling with a form of Schizophrenia that makes any perception suspect, even those we hold to be most familiar.

It is no picnic trying to get along in life when one’s sense of what is real is constantly being challenged by what is perceived. It can’t be easy to be in a crowd when one believes they can hear what others are thinking; we who do not suffer from this sort of delusion or hallucination cannot really understand how terrifying it is to live with this every day.

I’ve had some struggles of my own in this respect; reality takes on a very dark, foreboding aspect when one is suffering clinical depression, and the climb back into the light can be an exhausting effort. So, one learns to adjust feelings in ourselves, to make changes to the only part of reality over which we have any power to do so. We can change ourselves, if we wish, but we cannot change anything in reality, beyond exercising our means of perceiving it. In my younger days, when I knew so much more than I know now, I once wrote, “true power is control over the routes of perception.” I didn’t know then that I was closer to the mark than I thought……
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As the words flow gently toward the final destination,let us bid adieu to another trip through the nether portions of my mind. I’m happy that I could still find my way out; we could have been stuck there for days!….. Y’all take care out there…..

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

gigoid

Dozer

Kowabunga!

Intrusion of the Dubious….

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Ffolkes,
As the brightly colored dreidle spins, mesmerizing, laughter rings out above the noise of the crowded plaza. The sun beat down with heavy indifference, laying a mantle of sticky humidity on the poor, and on the not-so-poor denizens wandering listlessly among the filthy stalls. Occasionally, soldiers from the palace would stride past, looking neither left nor right, in squads of eight; any fewer would be an easy target for the bands of mercenaries purchased as protection by the criminal overlords of the city.

The crowds parted once again, and filled in behind, as a stranger, dressed in strangely colored garments, marched steadily toward the Speaking Stone. He reached the Stone and vaulted to the top; the crowd gathered around, and fell silent. As the sun began to sink behind the minarets to the west, the stranger looked out among the crowd, and spake thus, “Did you believe the lies? Did you doubt my words? If so, the proof of your mistaken choice stands before you. I have returned, and there will be a reckoning!” The crowd, still silent, fell back as the stranger quickly departed the plaza. Neighbor looked at neighbor, with baffled mien, until one shouted out, expressing the mutual confusion, and said “What! What the hell is that supposed to mean?”……

Sorry folks, just had to get that out…..we will now return to our regularly scheduled nonsense…..
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Alone!–that worn-out word,
So idly spoken, and so coldly heard;
Yet all that poets sing and grief hath known
Of hopes laid waste, knells in that word ALONE!
— Edward Bulwer-Lytton (1805-1873) — The New Timon, (1846), Part ii

It is interesting sometimes to see how the world works; there is always some piece of it that is stranger than we can imagine. This poem, though not of top notch quality, is nonetheless saved from total obscurity by the power of its plea. What interests me is that this gentleman is the same one who wrote the famous passage from the beginning of one of his books; it begins with “It was a dark and stormy night….” and proceeds to go downhill from there. It is considered by experts to be so bad that there is now a yearly literary contest, with a pretty hefty prize, called the Bulwer-Lytton Award.

The award is bestowed upon the author of the written passage that best exemplifies just how badly people can write. Each year, the winning pieces lend new meaning to Theodore Sturgeon’s Law of Everything, which tells us that “90 percent of science fiction is crap. But, then, 90% of everything is crap.” It’s all just another way for us to laugh at our best source of humor in life, ourselves and our personal struggle with our oh-so human nature…….
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“It is your resistance to ‘what is’ that causes your suffering.” — Buddha

In the movie, The Lion King, there is a scene wherein the young lion king-to-be is receiving a lesson from his shaman/mentor, the anorexic orangutan. The shaman would ask a question, and when the young lion answered, the shaman would hit him over the head with a stick, and say “Forget about it! It’s in the Past!”, carrying on with that until the point was obvious, to wit: Don’t hang on to baggage you can leave in the past, or you’ll drag it with you into the future.”

This is actually the only scene from the movie that I remember, so I guess my crap detector was on full alert. But this one scene makes the movie worthwhile for me, because this is a lesson that more kids (and adults) in this country need to have drilled into their heads. However, such a subtle concept as this is generally incomprehensible to westerners, who are conditioned from birth to avoid using their minds at all cost….to their eventual regret, and everyone else’s chagrin…..
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By the rude bridge that arched the flood,
Their flag to April’s breeze unfurled,
Here once the embattled farmers stood,
And fired the shot heard round the world.
— Ralph Waldo Emerson, Concord Hymn

“Our safety, our liberty depends on preserving the Constitution of the United States as our fathers made it inviolate.  The people of the US are the rightful masters both Congress and the courts – Not to overthrow the Constitution, but to overthrow the men who pervert the Constitution” — Abraham Lincoln (1809-1865)

“I see in the near future a crisis approaching that unnerves me and causes me to tremble for the safety of my country…. Corporations have been enthroned, an era of corruption in high places will follow, and the money-power of the country will endeavor to prolong its reign by working upon the prejudices of the people until the wealth is aggregated in a few hands and the Republic is destroyed.’ — Former US President Abraham Lincoln, Nov. 21, 1864 — letter to Col. William F. Elkins — printed in “The Lincoln Encyclopedia”, — ed. Archer H. Shaw, Macmillan, 1950, NY

“Our government has kept us in a perpetual state of fear — kept us in a continuous stampede of patriotic fervor — with the cry of grave national emergency… Always there has been some terrible evil to gobble us up if we did not blindly rally behind it by furnishing the exorbitant sums demanded.  Yet, in retrospect, these disasters seem never to have happened, seem never to have been quite real.” — General Douglas MacArthur, 1957

This section of quotes hearkens back to the early days of the Pearls of Virtual Wisdom. The four quotes above, when considered as a continuing evolution of observations of American society, show an increasingly strong sense of impending threat to the freedoms our forefathers attempted to guarantee for us. The threat is getting even stronger as time goes on, and I can only hope that enough folks out there are aware of how close to the edge we are skating, and make a joint effort to pull us all back from danger…..but, then, I AM an optimist by nature…..
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Thou wast that all to me, love,
For which my soul did pine–
A green isle in the sea, love,
A fountain and shrine,
All wreathed with fairy fruits and flowers,
And all the flowers were mine.
— Edgar Allan Poe

Poe didn’t live long, but he loved, and lived well, miserable though he was. To love well is to live well; perfect logic trimmed with Occam’s Razor. I have loved, so I can say I have lived well. I still love, and seek more. It is, after all, our most defining emotion. Robert Heinlein, of course, said it the best, as far as I can see, when he said that “Love is the condition in which the happiness of another person is essential to your own.” That’s a goal worth living for…..
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No soldier shall, in time of peace be quartered in any house, without the consent of the owner, nor in time of war, but in a manner to be prescribed by law. — The Constitution of the United States of America Amendment 3, 1791

This is your daily reminder of what is now missing from your life…..no joke…..
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The above posting may seem like insignificant rubbish at first glance, but if you read between the lines, you will be surprised to discover the annals of Burt Bachrach, world peace, Oxford Advanced Readers Dictionary, quantum physics made easy, and an easy-to-use step-by-step walk-through on how to make a time traveling device that actually works. — DISCLAIMER

I can’t do it any better than that; not today. Today, I’ll be lucky if I can see my way clear to tomorrow. Matters at this point are, shall we say, unsettled? Good thing I refuse to be bored; to admit that is to admit I’m tired of what is in my own head. Not gonna happen in this lifetime…..meantime, y’all take care out there…..

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

gigoid

Dozer

Kowabunga!

This beginning is final…..

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Ffolkes,
The universe is being odd this morning. I’m not sure what effect this may have on the Pearls; they’ve never been exposed to this level of strangeness before. We’ll have to see, won’t we?……
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“If you make people think they’re thinking, they’ll love you; but if you really make them think, they’ll hate you.” — Don Marquis

Boy, is this one True! And it describes perfectly one of the primary reasons that our species will most likely  go extinct in the next century or so.  Intelligence, and its most powerful asset, imagination, are the evolutionary advantages that our species possesses over others. Our ability to imagine future events, to see potential consequences of actions, to invent new ideas and processes, and to reason, have (unjustly) given us dominion over the rest of the creatures with whom we share the planet. I say unjustly, because it just isn’t working.


Instead of using our abilities to improve the lot of all life here, we have instead used them to destroy resources; to pollute the air, the water , and the land; to kill, each other and animals; and in general, have spent most of the last 200 years fouling our own nest to the point where it will no longer support life at all.  The way I see it, we are committing racial suicide, and all because no one is willing to break the pattern of evil that has led us to this point, because they would have to give up their comfortable, unrealistic unwillingness to use the gift that we were given.  Personally, I’m at the point myself where I don’t see much sense in trying to change things for the better any more; too many folks are too willing to go to hell in their handbasket, as long as it has cable TV, A/C, and a full cooler of beer…….
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“A lot of people will urge you to put some money in a bank, and in fact–within reason–this is very good advice. But don’t go overboard. Remember, what you are doing is giving your money to someone else to hold on to, and I think that it is worth keeping in mind that the businessmen who run banks are so worried about holding on to things that they put little chains on all their pens.” — “Miss Piggy”

This little statement, though it comes from an unlikely source, has a lot to be said for it; it definitely raises a pertinent question about the intentions of those who keep our money for us. I have personally experienced the way bankers treat us once they have our money in their grasp. Here’s a little example, minus proper names to protect the guilty…… my bank has no branches nearby, as they are located in Texas, but they accept deposits electronically for checks deposited at a local UPS store. However, the funds deposited are placed on hold for “up to” 5 business days, to ensure the check will clear. This means that I have to wait 7 days (there is a weekend in the way) in order to access my money. In the meantime, I guarantee that the bank will be earning an interest amount for the deposit while it is sitting there (earned negatively, eg, they didn’t pay it to me, so they get to keep it). Meanwhile, they have the use of my money to invest, or otherwise earn for them, while I’m waiting to get at it, and fending off creditors with my other hand. The game is rigged folks, and it is not rigged in our favor……
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“Genuine poetry can communicate before it is understood.” — T. S. Eliot

Two pieces of poetry here, that fit together well to make a point. I like the first, by Mr. Eliot, for its insight, and for the potential that abides within, the potential for expansion into almost any available segue……so I’m using it for this one. Read the following from Thomas Cowper, and see if you are not reminded of one of the Laws of Science, in fact the primary Law, that supersedes all the others…..I’ll clue you after ward, if it escapes your effort….

Fate steals along with silent tread,
Found oftenest in what least we dread;
Frowns in the storm with angry brow,
But in the sunshine strikes the blow.
— Cowper

I read this, and was puzzled at first, because it seemed so familiar, yet I knew I’d never seen it before. Then my thoughts coalesced, and I knew……this is merely another way to express that most powerful of universal laws, the one standing over all, and known to all and sundry as Murphy’s Law. Four quick lines, and it feels like an entire lecture class has explored the nuances of Murphy’s insight. It explains how we are unable to see or feel him before his arrival, and how the moment of truth is always at the most unexpected time. It shows also how we feel about it, all with the greatest of ease. I Love Poetry!……
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“Humanity has the stars in its future, and that future is too important to be lost under the burden of juvenile folly and ignorant superstition.” — Isaac Asimov

Perhaps my greatest fear in life is rooted in my belief in what Isaac has stated here. I’ve always felt that Mankind’s destiny lay in the sky; why should our minds be free to travel the length and breadth of the universe, and not our bodies? There has to be a reason why the stars call to us; our curiosity has always led us in that direction. But I am afraid, that the beloved ruling class, whose purpose in life is not the same as the rest of humanity, has too powerful a grip on society;  I’m afraid that they will drag the rest of us down with them on their trip to hell. If, if, if,….. if things were different, all the money we spend on fighting each other, or trying to take over some resource or another, were put into space exploration, we would already have a colony on the moons of Saturn, and the leftover money would be enough to powerfully bolster the educational system to support the need for more scientists. But how will we be able to make the effort, when the powers that be are totally engrossed in their own aggrandizement, and will allow nothing to challenge their hold over the rest of us? I fear for us all…….
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“Happiness follows sorrow, sorrow follows happiness, but when one no longer discriminates between happiness and sorrow, a good deal and a bad deed, one is able to realize freedom.” — Buddha

The lesson here is a subtle one, and one that is difficult for Western minds to grasp. We are accustomed to viewing the universe through the filter of our prejudices, which allow us to judge events according to our own beliefs and preferences. Removing the filter to which we are accustomed tends to create anxiety; we are unused to facing the universe without our prejudices to shield us.

But the end result is worth the effort, for it removes all the causes for us to fear the universe. When we can see that the universe proceeds without our judgments, when we can accept that those judgments are superfluous, then we are free to experience life in its full, natural state, without fear, and without conflict. When there are no distinctions made, the roots of conflict disappear, and life becomes much more enjoyable, and much more fulfilling…….
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Well, that wasn’t too bad, now was it? Hopefully, these musings will assist you in kick-starting your brain today, and give you a jump on the day. That’s the target anyway…… y’all take care out there…..

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

gigoid

Dozer at play..

Kowabunga!