Old~new dogs~tricks…..

Posted on May 27, 2012 by gigoid

Ffolkes,
Good morning, I hope…. let’s jump right in….

“This is not a novel to be tossed aside lightly. It should be thrown with great force.” — Dorothy Parker

Fortunately for all concerned at this point, I haven’t. Yet. Written a novel. I’ve written enough in the past 10 months to fill the pages of at least three of them, all about 400 pages, but, it’s not a novel, nor, as I think of it now, is it very novel…. sorry….. But, that right there, that pun, even though it wasn’t deliberate, is a good indicator of what I feel right now, in re: what Ms. Parker said above, if applied to my novel of Pearls over the last near-year. In looking over the previous efforts this month, I note a distinct decline in quality. You may not have noticed it, but it is there, to my eye….

Said decline may or may not be connected to the concomitant increase in the personal nature of what I’ve chosen to write; it’s hard to tell without a full introspective overhaul. Sometimes though, going with what is felt, without too much close examination, doesn’t seem such a bad choice upon which to base bending to change….

I mean, change will happen, no matter what choice I make, so it seems a good idea to be proactive, in a sense, and make some changes in myself, or in my approach to certain matters. After all, I’m the only one who can change me, and I am also the only thing in the universe I can change. May as well take advantage of those immutable principles….

Hence, I’m changing the face of the Pearls of Virtual Wisdom. Again. It isn’t the first time; over the 12 or 13 years I’ve been putting them together on a pretty much daily basis, first while at work,then from home, I’ve gone through several procedural and structural morphs.

It all started with one pearl, and one short comment a day, and has grown to an average of 1800 words a day, with five pearls as base material. I think I’ve reached the maximum benefit I can derive by making them so long each day, so I’m cutting back a bit, starting today, and will present only three pearls a day, and give them my best shot, whatever form that may take, prose or verse….

In addition, pearls will be expanded to include more pictures, some with text, some with, well, other stuff…. about which I will either say “Aww!”, or write a haiku, or a short essay, or a rant, or whatever strikes me (not a change, but a change in stimuli….)…. No harm in trying to add some color to my day, and yours…. So, Gentle Reader, settle back, and gird your grid for a new experience…. at least, new to this blog… Shall we explore consensual reality together?…. A’Pearling we shall go….
___________________________________ Friendship is a wonderful thing; saying so is pretty obvious and trite, but nonetheless true for that. And we all know that to have a friend, one must BE a friend. This attitude, of being open to the kind of things that friends do, is especially important when one is in a place far away from those friends, when they are not there to lean on, or to help…. In life we travel, we drift apart, we follow our own paths, but our friends are always with us, even if only in our hearts… And in those times we are alone, being open to friendship can save not only your sanity, but your life…. I have friends who would do all of the things listed under the real friends category; not just would do, but have…. It’s been a while since I was in a dog pile with them, and doing so now would probably put us all in traction, but the rest of it is all true and has happened in the not so distant past. It feels good to know that I am still in touch with at least five people who used to call my folks Mom and Dad…. Mitt Romney can keep his $250 million net worth; of the two of us, I am the truly wealthy one…..
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“…it still remains true that as a set of cognitive beliefs about the existence of God in any recognizable sense continuous with the great systems of the past, religious doctrines constitute a speculative hypothesis of an extremely low order of probability.” — Sidney Hook

Mr. Hook gives us here a long-winded, Shakespearean statement about the existence of God that probably would better have been left at “Not bloody likely!”…. Both get the same point across, but the latter has more punch, as the listener doesn’t have to spend all that time trying to first figure out what the hell he said….

It is a very good statement, in its way; accurate, logical, and with a proper reservation of judgment, proclaiming the idiocy of buying into such an implausible story without being snide about it. But, as mentioned, it reminds me of a certain author, who shall now remain unnamed, who had the same habit when he wrote, to wit: “HEY! Lets cover up what this means with a bunch of extra words that will make the reader’s head spin with admiration….”.

Now, as one who writes (or types, anyway…. who’s to say whether it is writing?….), I tend to agree with Twain’s method of prose, which is spare, and attempts to pare down what is written to its barest bones, leaving nothing but meaning and style; as with golf, one is trying for the lowest score. Twain, Hemingway, Steinbeck, all believed that good writing should be accessible, and clear, without having to be translated, or put into simpler terms, and Mr. Hook would have done better, I think, to keep that in mind. The idea he is promulgating is one that does need to be spread around, and should stimulate discussion. In its present form, it will only do that amongst the few readers and folks who can easily make out what he is talking about in this over-blown statement….

The idea he is expressing here is one that is generally discouraged by those in leadership positions in modern religions. Discussing the veracity of the claims that religion makes is not encouraged by any of the sects I know of; in fact, doing so tends to produce some rather volatile reactions, to put it mildly. Most folks have a hard time maintaining their cool when their religious beliefs are challenged, due, I think, to the strong emotional connection they add to those beliefs.

Their feelings are so tied into those beliefs that, in their minds, questioning one is the same as attacking the other….. Not logical, but true nonetheless, and not a good thing to leave out of one’s calculations; I never discuss religion without being rather heavily armed…. and not only with knowledge….

Here’s the thing that bothers me about the whole concept of an omnipotent entity…. How can we, who are not omnipotent, claim to understand either the actual form of a God, or the motivation of such a being? How can we claim to be certain that this omnipotent entity, capable of creating an entire universe, not only looks just like us, but actually wants us to bow down and worship Him, or Her, or It? Even when I was five years old, nobody could, or would, answer that question, other than to say, “because it’s in the Bible.” Even then, I recognized when I was being put off, and it just made me wonder more….

Certainty is only a symptom of lack of imagination. — Smart Bee

Over time, as my knowledge of the world grew, I came to realize that the entire system is just another man-made institution, with the whole purpose of taking advantage of, and controlling, the general run of folks who are just trying to get by in life. I learned that the louder a person proclaims himself to be a Christian, the less like Christ they act. Being “safe in the arms of Jesus” is the perfect excuse to deny any responsibility for one’s own acts of immorality; Jesus forgives everything, right? Well, he does…. it says so right here in the New Testament, so it must be true….

“Our father who art in heaven.. I sincerely pray that SOMEBODY at this table will PAY for my SHREDDED WHAT and ENGLISH MUFFIN.. and also leave a GENEROUS TIP…” — Zippy the Pinhead

I don’t claim to know God. I don’t know how God looks. I don’t know what God thinks, or even if what that entity does can be called thinking at all. I’m not omnipotent, so I have no frame of reference from which to approach such a question. I do know this, though…. whatever anyone says about God is bound to be wrong. It has to be; there is no way for us to understand anything about such a creature, not if we are to assume they are truly gods. If they are gods, or God, then I refuse to believe that what is important to me as a human is important to them; it just doesn’t make any logical sense. None….

ZEUS, n. The chief of Grecian gods, adored by the Romans as Jupiter and by the modern Americans as God, Gold, Mob and Dog. Some explorers who have touched upon the shores of America, and one who professes to have penetrated a considerable distance to the interior, have thought that these four names stand for as many distinct deities, but in his monumental work on Surviving Faiths, Frump insists that the natives are monotheists, each having no other god than himself, whom he worships under many sacred names. — Ambrose Bierce, “The Devil’s Dictionary”

Looking at a Universe without God doesn’t scare me…. I think it is quite beautiful, no matter how it came to exist. Knowing one way or another how it was created, or happened, or evolved, or whatever, isn’t important to me, in either the short, or the long run. Learning about it, experiencing its joys and trials, appreciating both its gifts and its penalties, these are much more important. Do your Duty. Honor the Truth. Respect Life. Share your Love. I don’t think that God needs my approval, or my worship in order for the universe to carry on…. it’s just fine the way it is…..

“There are no physicists in the hottest parts of hell, because the existence of a hottest part implies a temperature difference, and any marginally competent physicist would immediately use this to run a heat engine and make some other part of hell comfortably cool. This is obviously impossible.” — Richard Davidson
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Okay, enough of being serious…. here we have another find from Facebook, where all of today’s images were found…. it needs no explanation….___________________________________

There you have it… the freshest Pearl you can find, just for you…. I love it when a plan comes together…. Well, sort of together…. it’s still over 1800 words….SIGH….Y’all take care out there, and May the Metaphorse be with you…..

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

gigoid

Kowabunga!

Irrational numbers often resist emulsification….

Posted on May 26, 2012 by gigoid

Ffolkes,
I’m giving up. Or, more accurately, I’m acknowledging that I’ve given up; the actual giving up part was accomplished some time ago, and I’m just now getting around to letting y’all know…. You may well ask “what are you babbling about now?”, and would be within your rights to do so. I’m talking about giving up some of my angst, just letting it go…. the part that I keep around to worry about whether this blog gets done by a certain time.

My sleeping pattern has achieved true randomness, I think; I can no longer tell when I might get sleepy at night. It seems to alternate between falling out at 6 PM on Monday, then being wide awake at midnight on Tuesday. Then Wednesday, I take a 3 hour nap, until 4 PM, and fall out again at 8. It’s absurd, and I can’t get a handle on it…..

I don’t know if this is a functional result of getting older, or if it is because of the medication I’m taking, (or not taking…. there are at least five things my doctor tells me to take that I can’t afford, so I don’t….), or just my PTSD throwing me mental curves and sliders. Whatever the cause, I can no longer count on being up by a certain time, so it makes no sense to get all worked up when I don’t get this Pearl done before 8 or 9 AM.

So, I won’t…. I may be a Bozo, but once I do figure something out, I’m not shy about implementing changes….. Just because one’s nose is big, red, and honks doesn’t mean one can’t be efficient…. We may all be Bozo’s on this bus, but the bus stops now and again, and one must get off and join the rest of the circus…..

That said, we can get on with the process of finding pearls. They may not get published as early as is usual, but they’ll get there. I’m just not going to sweat over it quite so freely….. Shall we Pearl?…..
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“You can’t use tact with a congressman. A congressman is a hog. You must take a stick and hit him on the snout.” — Henry Adams

The political arena has been quiet of late; we are between elections leading up to the main one in November, and waiting for the National Conventions of each Party to take place. The Republican front runner, Mitt Romney, has placed a gag order on himself, having recently acknowledged that, thus far in his campaign, his greatest problems have occurred when he opened his mouth to speak. So, he has been watching what he says very carefully, and in the process, is saying nothing at all.

Well, that is, he’s saying nothing if one doesn’t count his normal quota of lies and made up statistics. Why, just two days ago I read where he told a group in the Midwest how Obama’s administration had increased some debt percentage “more than ANY previous administration”. This of course, is completely false, as the numbers show, in fact, that the particular statistical number to which he referred, has DECREASED more than any previous administration had been able to do….. typical.

So, this leaves me little to rant about. I guess I’ll have to go look through the news before writing these pearls, to find something to use as the latest evidence of the ongoing chicanery and yes, illegal activities being acted out on the public stage. Hang in there, I’ll be back in about twenty….

There, see? Nothing…. no outrageous statements, no news of new idiotic policies. Well, there was one story, about how Romney is now claiming that cutting spending will cause a depression (that’s Democratic cuts, not Republican cuts…. they’re different, you know… sure they are…. trust me….). Of course, he doesn’t bother to explain his reasoning for this claim; he just knows. I guess the information came in via radio, straight into this brain from the Cosmos… Hardly worth picking at, even for me….

Ah well, I’ll just wait. I am certain that it won’t take more than a day or two for the pressure to build up, and Mitt will have to blurt out some new idiotically absurd new statement that demonstrates his complete cluelessness. He’s been in the public eye now for several months, and if his history there is any indicator, it won’t be long before he opens up and inserts his size 10 loafers…. and I’ll be waiting….

“There are things worse than a public speaker with a three word thought, a three minute vocabulary and a three hour speech, but I have not been able to think of any over the last three days.” — Smart Bee
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“He was born with a gift of laughter and a sense that the world was mad.” — Rafael Sabatini

A few days ago, I posted a quote from William Yeats, about making our words inevitable…. The above line is the opening line of the novel, “Scaramouche”, and is, in my not-so-humble opinion, one of the best opening lines ever written. With style and wit, and a strong sense of inevitability, it sets the tone for the entire book, and gives a taste of flavor from the feast to follow….. I would recommend the story to anyone who enjoys a well-told historical novel, rich in detail, and with engaging characters living in a time of great change.

The story is set in France, during the same period as Dickens’ “A Tale of Two Cities”, i.e. the period leading up to the Peasant’s Revolt, and the French Revolution, in the late 18th century. Love, hatred, political intrigue, revenge, all play their part to paint a beautifully detailed picture of the period, telling a story that holds one captive to the final page. I won’t bore you with a discussion of how it can be related to current times; you can see for yourself when you read it. But, even without any political overtones, the book remains a great read, and well worth a trip to the library…..
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The Day Is Done

The day is done, and the darkness
Falls from the wings of Night,
As a feather is wafted downward
From an eagle in his flight.

I see the lights of the village
Gleam through the rain and the mist,
And a feeling of sadness comes o’er me
That my soul cannot resist:

A feeling of sadness and longing,
That is not akin to pain,
And resembles sorrow only
As the mist resembles the rain.

Come, read to me some poem,
Some simple and heartfelt lay,
That shall soothe this restless feeling,
And banish the thoughts of day.

Not from the grand old masters,
Not from the bards sublime,
Whose distant footsteps echo
Through the corridors of Time.

For, like strains of martial music,
Their mighty thoughts suggest
Life’s endless toil and endeavor;
And to-night I long for rest.

Read from some humbler poet,
Whose songs gushed from his heart,
As showers from the clouds of summer,
Or tears from the eyelids start;

Who, through long days of labor,
And nights devoid of ease,
Still heard in his soul the music
Of wonderful melodies.

Such songs have power to quiet
The restless pulse of care,
And come like the benediction
That follows after prayer.

Then read from the treasured volume
The poem of thy choice,
And lend to the rhyme of the poet
The beauty of thy voice.

And the night shall be filled with music
And the cares, that infest the day,
Shall fold their tents, like the Arabs,
And as silently steal away.

~~ Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Poetry break…. enjoy!
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“At once it struck me what quality went to form a man of achievement, especially in literature, and which Shakespeare possessed so enormously — I mean negative capability, that is, when a man is capable of being in uncertainties, mysteries, doubts, without any irritable reaching after fact and reason.” — John Keats (1795-1821)

I have previously given my opinion on Shakespeare, and won’t bore you again with more samples of his impenetrable verse; it always gives me a headache anyway…. But it is nice to find evidence that my less than enthusiastic take on Will is shared by others who are not afraid to state an unpopular opinion. The fact that the person who makes this statement is possibly the best poet who ever lived gives me a lot of satisfaction; if anyone is entitled to an opinion about Will’s work, John Keats is certainly one of them.

Keats is acknowledged as probably the most influential poet of all time, not merely during his own life. His work changed the face of the entire genre; one can only lament his early death, and grieve over all the genius that was lost…. And not just genius, but brave genius, to be honest enough to say what he thought about the most revered playwright of all time….

It’s tough to be right, when everyone one else believes you to be wrong…. but it’s well worth it, to my mind…. Especially if it means I don’t have to try to sit through another reading of Will’s nonsensical refuse, trying to find some way to puzzle out what he was trying to say with all the extra verbiage he piled on to his verse….
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“Do not believe in anything simply because you have heard it. Do not believe in anything simply because it is spoken and rumored by many. Do not believe in anything simply because it is found written in your religious books. Do not believe in anything merely on the authority of your teachers and elders. Do not believe in traditions because they have been handed down for many generations. But after observation and analysis, when you find that anything agrees with reason and is conducive to the good and benefit of one and all, then accept it and live up to it.” — Buddha

Obviously, this needs no adornment, nor comment from me, other than to say it is my idea of the correct path to a full and complete life, based on right action, compassion, and love…..
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I’ve said it before…. All you can do is all you can do…. hopefully, it is enough. Y’all take care out there, and May the Metaphorse be with you….

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

gigoid

Kowabunga!

Clouds of vacuous attendants….

Posted on May 25, 2012 by gigoid

Ffolkes,
As I opened the door to the deli and pushed in out of the cold, steam from the sidewalk vent flowed in with me, disappearing in the warmth inside. I had a moment of disorientation, a feeling of premonition that I realized had been with me all morning, distracting me during the walk through the dark streets from home. Mrs. Cohen, one of the owners, looked up from behind the counter to smile at me, looking worried and relieved at once. “I wasn’t sure you would be in today, Nolan,” she stated in her soft accented voice, “I know you have a funeral to go to today.”

“I thought work might help me keep from thinking about it,” I replied. “And it seemed like what she would have wanted me to do.” With eyes shimmering, Mrs. Cohen just nodded, and said, “Well, then, you can start on the prep list, I suppose. We’re a little light on potato salads.” “Okay, I’ll cook off a bag of potatoes for the week.” Still somewhat distracted, I moved to the back of the store, into the kitchen, hanging my coat on the hooks by the back door. Flipping the lights on in the walk-in reefer, I ducked inside to check the inventory.

As I stepped back out of the reefer, I heard the front door bell jingle, and my feeling of premonition got stronger. Curious, I walked to the kitchen door, and looked out into the table area beyond the deli case. Just inside the door stood a…..

See, now, this is the problem…. I get started on a nice little story idea like this, then, just when it starts to get interesting, it all fades away, or like with this one, I have to take a break to stretch & ease up on the sitting. When I come back to it, it’s gone. Nowhere in my head to be found…. Oh, well, I guess it does provide me with some intriguing opening paragraphs, even if they’re pretty well non sequitor in re: the rest of what is here…. rather than complain any more about it, let’s go find some pearls, shall we?……
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EVERYTHING I NEED TO KNOW I LEARNED IN KINDERGARTEN
1. Share everything.
2. Play fair.
3. Don’t hit people.
4. Put things back where you found them.
5. Clean up your own mess.
6. Don’t take things that aren’t yours.
7. Say you’re sorry when you hurt somebody.
8. Wash your hands before you eat.
9. Flush.
10. Warm cookies and cold milk are good for you.
11. Live a balanced life–learn some and think some and draw and paint and sing and dance and play and work every day some.
12. Take a nap every afternoon.
13. When you go out into the world, watch out for traffic, hold hands, and stick together.
14. Be aware of wonder. Remember the little seed in the Styrofoam cup: The roots go down and the plant goes up and nobody really knows how or why, but we are all like that.
15. Goldfish and hamsters and white mice and even the little seed in the Styrofoam cup–they all die. So do we.
16. And then remember the Dick-and-Jane books and the first word you learned –the biggest word of all–LOOK.

— Robert Fulghum

Not everything needs a comment from me…. This doesn’t…..
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“If I have any beliefs about immortality, it is that certain dogs I have known will go to heaven, and very, very few persons.” — James Thurber

I think that Mr. Thurber must have been a nice man, because this could have been expressed much more harshly. Instead he chose to use implication to point up his disappointment in the human spirit. He could have used words that would define more precisely just what it is about humans that makes us choose to act immorally much of the time, and do so in spite of knowing it is wrong. Dogs don’t seem capable of making that choice, unless they’ve been taught by a human to do so. They will almost always choose the act that is more ethical, or more moral; I would bet that is one reason why they sleep so well….. and why so many humans don’t…..
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Summer

See what delights in sylvan scenes appear!
Descending Gods have found Elysium here.
In woods bright Venus with Adonis stray’d,
And chaste Diana haunts the forest shade.
Come lovely nymph, and bless the silent hours,
When swains from shearing seek their nightly bow’rs;
When weary reapers quit the sultry field,
And crown’d with corn, their thanks to Ceres yield.
This harmless grove no lurking viper hides,
But in my breast the serpent Love abides.
Here bees from blossoms sip the rosy dew,
But your Alexis knows no sweets but you.
Oh deign to visit our forsaken seats,
The mossy fountains, and the green retreats!
Where-e’er you walk, cool gales shall fan the glade,
Trees, where you sit, shall crowd into a shade,
Where-e’er you tread, the blushing flow’rs shall rise,
And all things flourish where you turn your eyes.
Oh! How I long with you to pass my days,
Invoke the muses, and resound your praise;
Your praise the birds shall chant in ev’ry grove,
And winds shall waft it to the pow’rs above.
But wou’d you sing, and rival Orpheus’ strain,
The wond’ring forests soon shou’d dance again,
The moving mountains hear the pow’rful call,
And headlong streams hang list’ning in their fall!
But see, the shepherds shun the noon-day heat,
The lowing herds to murm’ring brooks retreat,
To closer shades the panting flocks remove,
Ye Gods! And is there no relief for Love?
But soon the sun with milder rays descends
To the cool ocean, where his journey ends;
On me Love’s fiercer flames for ever prey,
By night he scorches, as he burns by day.

Alexander Pope

I subscribed to a new email notification service from a site called PoemHunter.com, and this is my first poem from them…. nice choice! Enjoy!…..
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I feel like one
Who treads alone
Some banquet-hall deserted,
Whose lights are fled,
Whose garlands dead,
And all but he departed.
— Thomas Moore (1779-1852) — Oft in the Stilly Night

I often feel like this after writing one of my political or religious rants, but it isn’t an unfamiliar feeling. For most of my life I’ve felt a certain distance between me and other folks. When in school as a boy, it was just how things were for us “eggheads”; other kids who found school work to be tedious or difficult often expressed their displeasure at the ease with which I completed the work, or that I always seemed to have the answer to the teacher’s questions.

It was obvious to me even then that they didn’t enjoy reading or studying subjects outside their normal frame of reference as did I; I got a lot of funny looks at lunch time when I would read while eating. They didn’t know that the book was, for me, a protective barrier as well as an enjoyment; they didn’t realize how hard it was to be ostracized for being smart. How could they understand, when they were the one’s perpetrating the divisiveness?

Even though it hurt some, I never minded their misunderstanding that much; the joy of learning, and the power of the knowledge it gave me was more than enough reward for me. It was harder on them, I think, to try to get through school when they worked so hard to deny the tools that would have helped them. I never could get why so many of my peers complained about how hard school was, or how unfair, when it was so easy for me. Back then, without the understanding and tolerance that age brings with experience, I just thought it was lame. “It’s a poor workman who blames his tools” always made perfect sense to me….

I guess it would be safe to say that the human experience is not for the faint of heart; it takes some strength and will to be able to fully appreciate all the facets that make up a human being. Loneliness, remorse, fear, heartache, loss, emotional stress of all kinds are part of what makes us what we are, balancing all the good things of which we are capable. Many of us never even consider such ideas, making it that much harder to deal with them when they occur.

It occurs to me that this reluctance to use the basic intelligence with which we are born is a root cause of a great many of the problems the world at large faces today. Mankind’s unwillingness to apply the power of the mind to tasks that challenge it, or to any concept that makes it work hard, has kept us from advancing as far, or as fast, as might otherwise be possible.

We are our own worst enemy, and lack the wit to see it…. and, unfortunately, I believe it will eventually be our undoing…. But, I keep trying, shouting into the wind, and will do so as long as I breathe, because, little reason though I may have, I love my brothers and sisters, all seven billion of them, and would much rather they woke up and smelled the coffee….
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It is Maya!
Dost thou not know her?
Illusion — dreams — phantoms.
But, to the wise, Maya is more.
——————
But, to the wise, Maya is more.
Look around:
All that thou see’st,
Trees and shrubs, The grass at thy feet,
All that walks or creeps,
All that flies from tree to tree,
All is unreal: All is Maya.
Our bodies, our limbs, our very thoughts.
We ourselves are slaves to Maya.
What remaineth? Who can say?
Love to the lover,
The child to the mother,
The song to the singer,
God to the worshipper;
These, wandering thro’ the world of Maya,
Are perchance shadows of that which is.

— Holst, Savitri (based upon the sanskrit Mahabharata)

Reality is a slippery little devil; at times one can’t grasp its true nature with both hands and a vice grip. Even duct tape won’t always confine it to one shape, and that is saying something. The ancient Indian philosopher who wrote this either knew this, or got into a powerful batch of cannabis indicus, and couldn’t find his way out. But, nonetheless, whoever wrote this managed to capture the chameleon-like quality of Reality, and to state it simply and beautifully.

At this point in time, any comments on the nature of said Reality from me would be not only superfluous, but would most likely add to the confusion already present in the very nature of what we are discussing. So, I won’t make any…. I’ll let Reality confuse you all by its lonesome, a task at which it has unlimited experience, and proven talent…. enjoy it while you still can! You never know when it will turn into something else less pleasant to contemplate….
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In retrospect, today’s Pearl went fairly smoothly, compared to most of my latest efforts. Rather than dwell on it, though, it’s probably best to just get on with the day, a policy that never fails. Fails to what, we may never know, but the fact that it does is sufficient to know for the nonce…. Y’all take care out there, and May the Metaphorse be with you…..

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

gigoid

Kowabunga!

Under no obligation of law…..

Posted on May 24, 2012 by gigoid

Ffolkes,
One never feels cheerful when walking on Meriton Way; all of the buildings seem to loom over one like brooding giants, and the facades of each are stained and dark. At night, one is fortunate if one lamp in three burns at all, and those that do throw more shadow than light. The air seems close, even out of doors, and a river fog turns the atmosphere sinister indeed. T’is no wonder at all to find the street empty of life; indeed, one wonders how anyone can come there at all….

Hmm….. doesn’t sound like my kind of place…. so, we’ll leave that particular vision right where it is, and go on to other, more pleasant tasks…. I say pleasant, even though the process of making Pearls has grown to be somewhat of a chore of late. I’m not certain why that is, but t’is true nonetheless. I suppose it isn’t so much the Pearls I’m having trouble with; it’s Life, of course….

One can usually pinpoint the base cause of dissatisfaction fairly easily, as long as a campaign of self-delusion isn’t being waged, and that certainly isn’t the case here. No, I’m just frustrated at having to be patient. It is a skill one must learn in this world, but I don’t think that anyone particularly LIKES to be patient; it’s just something that is more profitable to hold close than to give up, in almost every case imaginable.

Sure, there are times when patience is inappropriate (being punched in the face comes to mind….not a good idea to put up with that for long….), but in most instances in Life, it is more valuable than not….. It becomes difficult when the reason for its necessity is unnecessary, so to speak…. such as when one is waiting for something that should have arrived long before. I would be more disturbed than I am, if I thought that it was personal; but the federal bureaucracy moves slowly in all its forms, and does not discriminate in that sense. Everyone’s business gets slowed down when it strikes the federal facade…..

Well, ranting in the intro section is probably not the best way to start off, so we’ll move along to the regular business of the morning, and just hope for the best…. Who knows? Maybe the frustration I’m experiencing will have some kind of salutary effect on what I write…. It’s a pretty long shot, but what the hell else do I have to do? Shall we Pearl?……
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First I must sprinkle you with fairy dust…– Smart Bee

…. or your imagination won’t be able to fly! Ah, if only t’were so….

I find myself in a quandary this morning. It seems that my sensitivity to the world’s darker side is on full alert. I’ve been up less than an hour, and have already run across three things that made my tears flow. One was a passage in the book I started, describing the panic, terror, and heroics that people experienced as victims of the sinking of the Lusitania at the start of WWII. When I read how a man, a common thief, gave up his life jacket to a young mother with a child, I couldn’t keep them from flowing….

Second, I read a blog by a sister in pain…. a former sex trade worker, who has been strong enough to find her way out of the terror of her former years, into a place where she is able to write about it, hoping to bring her own experiences to light in order to enlighten the general public about the plight of all the women and girls trapped in that life by the vicious misogynists who perpetrate the atrocity.

Every time I read one of her posts, I cry without shame, for her and for all those still being victimized (and they are ALL victims; even those who say they agree with prostitution are deluded in their beliefs, having been indoctrinated before they were capable of making up their own minds….) I’ve reblogged that posting to help spread the message, but the pain and sorrow her work generates in me is not so easily sublimated….

Third, I read once again the Last Will and Testament of Noah, (my dog, who passed away last November) and almost drowned in my tears, as it brought back all the love of him, and the pain of his passing….. It’s been almost eight months now, and the pain is as fresh as if it were yesterday. I suppose this pain will always be there, waiting to be felt, at least until I find another dog to take as my companion…..

The upshot of all this morning’s tears is exhaustion, at least emotionally. Not even 7:30 AM, and my foremost thought is to go back to bed, thereby wasting the entire morning. I wouldn’t wish to do that, so I suppose I’ll keep pushing onward…. I’m not sure why….

But, then, I also don’t know why this whole emotional storm is raging, and that, I think, is more upsetting than the actual storm itself. It would be nice to be able to see how to counteract this when it happens, but I suppose it is inherent in the issue. If I could see why it happened, I could do something to prevent it, or at least regulate it to some degree. Instead, I find myself played out, frustrated, and once again, ranting over something I cannot change….

Since I have no idea where this is leading, or, for that matter, where it came from, I will of necessity surrender all control, sprinkle myself with some fairy dust, and hope for the best…..

“And I asked myself about the present: how wide it was, how deep it was, how much was mine to keep.” — Kurt Vonnegut Jr.
___________________________________

I see the lights of the village
gleam through the rain and the mist.
And a feeling of sadness comes o’er me,
that my soul cannot resist.
A feeling of sadness and longing
that is not akin to pain,
And resembles sorrow only
as the mist resembles rain.
— Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882), The Day is done

I’m going on instinct here…. this is included only because it resonated with how I’m feeling today…. sad, and clinging to whatever beauty I can find, to keep my head above water….

I will arise and go now, for always night and day
I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;
While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements grey,
I hear it in the deep heart’s core.
— William Butler Yeats, “The Lake Isle of Innisfree”

Well, that’s better…. found this, and it produces a much more amenable state of mind…. thanks, Bill….
___________________________________

“There is no absurdity so palpable but that it may be firmly planted in the human head if only you begin to inoculate it before the age of five, by constantly repeating it with an air of great solemnity.” — Arthur Schopenhauer (1788-1860)

Here you see the secret of the Catholic Church’s success throughout the ages since Peter had the light bulb go off over his head. For centuries, the church (and not only Catholics… they’re all guilty of this….) has concentrated its efforts on indoctrinating people in the restrictive concepts that make up their dogma from a very early age.

Church members are required (not asked, but required….) to bring their children in within days of their birth, to receive the blessing of the priest, who gleefully splashes water and chants incantations in celebration of another soul to be enslaved. Sure, they tell the parents that their own hope of getting to Heaven depends on their compliance, but what they’re really doing is perpetrating the same crime that they carried out on the parents at the same age….

The educators in the church are fully aware of the truth of Mr. Schopenhauer’s statement, and have exploited that weakness for over 2000 years, refining and perfecting the technique until it is almost infallible. If they can convince their constituents of the truth of what they say before they reach the age of reason, they know there will be less chance of them questioning any of it, and can count on more recruits for their particular brand of ignorance for another generation.

It’s too bad ignorance isn’t painful. — Smart Bee

Perhaps if it was painful, there would be more hope for the world. But, alas, society has arranged matters so that the display of ignorance is not detrimental; in fact, in many cases, society rewards such ignorance. Natural selection has been disrupted in our species, and the penalty that used to be in place for those who refused to learn was eliminated, for the most part. As a result, more and more people are born who have no clue, and moreover, will never be allowed to get a clue.

The Catholic Church is not the only entity who knows the above, and their techniques are copied or adapted for use in almost all religions. It’s almost enough to make a man want to become a hermit, since there doesn’t seem to be much hope for mankind, as long as we continue to refuse to use the one advantage we have….

Be a hero! Teach your children to think for THEMSELVES! — Smart Bee
___________________________________ No reason… it just made me smile…. found on Facebook….
___________________________________ Since I don’t have any such words just now…. I’m cheating a bit, and using the picture, to save myself a thousand words…… also found on Facebook….
___________________________________

Sometimes, one must go with the flow…. this Pearl was doomed from the beginning, what with the way my day started. I’m not going to apologize, as this one has everything in it that I have the wherewithal to create. All you can do is all you can do…. So, y’all take care out there, and May the Metaphorse be with you…..

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

gigoid

Kowabunga!

Many times many is few enough….

Posted on May 23, 2012 by gigoid

Ffolkes,
I know I’m weird. Strange. Abnormal. Off the beaten path by a few yards…. but, does that mean that Murphy should pay closer attention to what I’m doing? Not in my book, but apparently in his….. It is less than 36 hours from the good sleep and physical well-being that defined the day yesterday, and I am on a completely different schedule. Yesterday, up at 4 AM, three hours to make a Pearl, and we’re on our way into the day. Today, it is after 8 AM and I’m just now getting rebooted and on the keyboard….. just couldn’t get up at 5 like I planned.

And pain? Well…. let’s just say it is being a bit more obvious today, and let it go at that…. I’ll be using a couple extra pain pills today, for sure…. and the process of making a Pearl promises to take a Herculean effort. But, hey, I’ve got nothing better to do, so, I may as well quit complaining and get on with it…. shall we Pearl? I think we’d better….
___________________________________

“I know not with what weapons World War III will be fought, but World War IV will be fought with sticks and stones.” — Albert Einstein

Albert was a smart guy, but here, I think, he was hedging his bets. I think it more likely that, if there is a World War III, then there won’t be anyone around who is interested in fighting another World War afterward. Nuclear power used as a weapon won’t leave enough people alive for them to have the time to worry about another country; there will be no “winner” in such a war. If, and that is a very large if, there are any people still alive after a nuclear war, they’ll be far more interested in finding someplace to grow food that won’t further irradiate them than they are in continuing hostilities with other folks….

Even Albert was subject to underestimating the power of human stupidity, and if people ever get so stupid as to use nuclear weapons, it will prove that our stupidity is both beyond belief, and beyond all doubt….. What frightens me the most is that the people who have the power to start any such war are the same people who have already proved their stupidity and lack of common feeling, merely by seeking office, and I don’t think I trust them very far to make the best decisions….

It’s something that not even I can think about for long, as it can only cause stress and fear; there is no real solution, other than to hope that the people who’ve been chosen to lead our countries have enough sense to avoid that particular road…. It’s a faint hope, but the only one we have….

“Better contraceptives will control population only if people will use them. A nuclear holocaust can be prevented only if the conditions under which nations make war can be changed. The environment will continue to deteriorate until pollution practices are abandoned. We need to make vast changes in human behavior.” — B. F. Skinner, Beyond Freedom and Dignity
________________________________

“You would think living alone would free me from all the normal burdens of responsibility that people complain or worry about, but all living alone does is increase your psychological weight, as if your soul were living on Jupiter. It tends to make you more important to yourself and exaggerate your problems to the point that they’re insurmountable afflictions.” — from a fictional novel, supposedly spoken by T. Ruzak, in “The Highly Effective Detective Goes to the Dogs”, a book by Richard Yancy

As part of my make-up reading, the above novel is the first I’ve picked up. It’s pretty entertaining so far…. the hero is a man who lives in a mental state much like my own, full of questions about reality, and self in relation to that reality. This is a particularly insightful piece of writing, and echoes my own thoughts on this matter surprisingly closely.

“This world may be only illusion–but it’s the only illusion we’ve got.” — Edward Abbey

When one lives alone, there isn’t anyone to bounce ideas off of, or to check out some interpretation of reality that seems questionable. No corroboration, so to speak, of the crime. Other folks, and indeed, real society, seem far away and unimportant, since the only time it intrudes is when I make the effort to go out into it, or put forth some effort to contact some part of it.

In effect, the only time I have company is when it is volitional on my part; only my few life long friends, and my kids, call me with any regularity. (Of course, this doesn’t count telemarketers and wannabe creditors, who are no doubt calling; I wouldn’t know as I hang up on any number I don’t recognize, as a precautionary measure to keep from losing my temper more than once a day….)

Living alone, as I’ve stated before, also has a lot of benefits, such as deciding who to see and when to see them (the other side of the coin also has value, as with most coins of this nature….). I’ve learned, since being so peremptorily sent off to retirement, to appreciate those benefits, as I haven’t had the opportunity to live alone for many years, since before I got married & had kids.

But, what Mr. Yancy related above remains a danger, as it is very tempting to fall into the trap of over-reflection on what is real and of importance, and fall into depression from too much negative emotional turmoil. I suppose one could say that maintaining a sane balance is still the most important thing to remember; both solitude and relationship have their advantages, and their disadvantages, and the key to successful living lies in balancing the two….

“The secret of life is to appreciate the pleasure of being terribly deceived.” — Oscar Wilde
___________________________________

“All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost.
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost.

From the ashes a fire shall be woken,
A light from the shadows shall spring.
Renewed shall be blade that was broken,
The crownless again shall be king.”

~ John Ronald Reuel Tolkien

No comments here, just a poetry break….

“Poetry is eternal graffiti written in the heart of everyone.” ~ Lawrence Ferlinghetti
___________________________________

“Our words must seem to be inevitable.” ~ William Butler Yeats

Yesterday, I managed to get to a couple of sites I’d been missing before I was unable to sit any longer. On my friend Carol Welsh’s site, at Flowers, Trees, and Other Such Gifts of Nature, I found the above quote. She often posts quotes from authors I know, and others I’ve never heard of, and all of them are of equal quality as this one by Yeats. In fact, she has so many that she has graciously offered to let me browse them to find those what may be useful as pearls…. Yay! And thanks…. a whole new database to plunder!…..

Any who…. when I read the above, another person had commented that it made them think about finding exceptions, for some reason. I responded to that by saying that, if considered as being applicable to writing only, it is a very good goal, and one we all could take to heart in our writing. It is certainly a quality that I seek when I write. To put together just the right set of words, to turn a phrase from mundane to beautiful, to make the words seem inevitable, that is indeed a worthy undertaking…. and one which all of who write should at least consider as a tool of value, if not completely adopt as a feature…..

With that in mind, I think it is inevitable at this point to let this stand as it exists, as I don’t see how I can improve it much with a lot more verbiage…. So, onward…. but keep in mind that the above statement is a goal of this blog, and feel free to comment if and when it ever occurs….
___________________________________

Had I the heaven’s embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

— William Butler Yeats, “He wishes for the Cloths of Heaven”

I wasn’t looking for a poem, but there it was, so here it is…. Please tread softly here, for you tread on my dreams…..
___________________________________

I was right…. this has been quite an ordeal. Thanks again to Carol Welsh for her contributions to this morning’s effort. I found, and used, at least two quotes from her files, and saved several more for later use; doing so saved me a lot of time and frustration on a morning that really needed it. I’m not sure how this turned out; I guess the proof will be in the pudding, er, posting…. Any who, y’all take care out there, and May the Metaphorse be with you….

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

gigoid

Kowabunga!

Even running amok requires proper attire….

Posted on May 22, 2012 by gigoid

Ffolkes,
Mmm, coffee…… coffee good. Want more….. there, that’s better. Focus now achieved, thanks to the life giver….. There are a lot of folks who don’t drink coffee. So they say….. I myself don’t believe it; they may hide it from everyone else, but I don’t believe that anyone in their right mind would deny themselves that morning shot, that moment of truth.

There is an instant every morning, right before I take the first sip, when I hate everything in the universe passionately; that hatred is immediately dismissed, eliminated completely and efficiently, as the benign jolt of divine caffeine strikes my bloodstream, and all is suddenly well with the world. That moment is highly addictive, leading as it does to a happier, more stable frame of mind, and I flat out disbelieve anyone who says they don’t like it, or can do without it once tried….

But, that’s okay, we’re all allowed a delusion or two, and if they want to insist on perpetuating such a lie, even such a white one, well, hey, it’s their karma, neh? As long as they don’t proselytize to me about it, or make any attempt to sell me something better, they can live…. Awfully big of me, I know, but I’m a nice guy most of the time, as long as I’m not crossed….. and even then, I’m very neat about my mayhem, and try to be accommodating by offering folks their preference as to landing spots, i.e. “Which wall would you prefer to fetch up against?”……

It is interesting to note that J.S. Bach wrote a Cantata to Coffee, complete with poetic text by a collaborator, in the early 1700’s, when Europe was first discovering the magical beans, and assimilating them into European culture, especially in Vienna, where some of the world’s finest coffees are brewed…. A noble bean indeed……

Now that we are completely off the track, let’s try to get back into Pearling mode, shall we? Without further distraction, we will now enter the world of deep knowledge known as the WWW; watch for the oysters, and try to spot the ones with pearls….
___________________________________

If you lie, you’ll cheat. And if you cheat, you’ll steal. — Smart Bee

Though there is no attribution for this statement, I regard it as a truism, having been demonstrated in reality uncountable times. Not only is it true, but has been adopted as the cultural definition of a required skill for politicians. If one can assume that the latter sentence is as true as the first, then both of the major political parties in this country are guilty of acting this out on the public stage.

Democrats, thanks to the President who had the unforgivable temerity to get caught lying, are generally regarded as being subject to this “stretching” of truth, but Republicans have the unique skill of uttering lies, with a completely straight face, then denying not only the lie, but the utterance itself. (Hence, G. Bush denying a statement from two years earlier, a statement that had been recorded…..)

It’s hard to say whether the other parties out there, the ones who never get elected (Libertarian, Independent, Socialist, etc.) are as devoted to this principle as are the major parties, but, if they wish to ever get elected, they’ll have to buy into it…. it seems the public demands that our politicians lie to us.

There certainly hasn’t been any evidence forthcoming that might indicate that the public WANTS to hear the truth…. no one is ever rewarded for telling it. Usually, a person who stands up to tell the truth is shouted down by the liars, who use all sorts of tried-and-true techniques to draw attention away from, or to de-legitimize, anyone who dares wax eloquently for the truth of any matter.

“Things true and evident must of necessity be recognized by those who would contradict them.” — Epictetus (c. 60 AD)

This is the worst part of the process of lying; those who do so in public CHOOSE to lie, deliberately. As well, it sometimes it seems as if the whole idea of truth is one that the common man ignores completely. It doesn’t seem to matter to him whether or not some talking head is telling him the truth…. all he cares about is that what is being said feeds into his own desire to be left alone, and doesn’t cost him any money, or thought, or extra work. If it meets those requirements, it is acceptable, and anything that doesn’t, anything that makes him think or sweat, becomes an object of dislike, and even hatred….

How many of the men who went after Clinton for his Oval Office BJ’s were doing so because they wished it could have been them? A lot, I’d say…. Many more than the number who actually cared at all (most of the entire European continent still remains confused about why that whole thing happened, as in their cultures, sexual affairs are not considered inappropriate behavior for public figures….) , and far, far more than those who actually cared about the truth of the matter…. Ah well, all one can do is SIGH……

“We would like to apologize for the way in which politicians are represented in this programme. It was never our intention to imply that politicians are weak-kneed, political time-servers who are more concerned with their personal vendettas and private power struggles than the problems of government, nor to suggest at any point that they sacrifice their credibility by denying free debate on vital matters in the mistaken impression that party unity comes before the well-being of the people they supposedly represent, nor to imply at any stage that they are squabbling little toadies without an ounce of concern for the vital social problems of today. Nor indeed do we intend that viewers should consider them as crabby ulcerous little self-seeking vermin with furry legs and an excessive addiction to alcohol and certain explicit sexual practices which some people might find offensive. We are sorry if this impression has come across.” — Monty Python

In truth, I have to say, sorry, I’m not sorry, and this is exactly the impression I’m trying to give you….. I wouldn’t want to lie to you, now would I?…..
___________________________________

“I have realized that the past and future are real illusions, that they exist in the present, which is what there is and all there is.” — Alan Watts

One of the less comfortable aspects of having a lot of time to think is just that…. having a lot of time to think. Since there is a lot more past to remember than there is present to think of, our minds linger in that unforgotten but never recoverable time. It is all there, the good, the bad, the ugly, and it can be a tricky task to keep from becoming maudlin when one lingers too long in the past, too easily turning to regret, and that is as useless as it is painful, in the long run.

At my age, the future is, of course, an uncertain, yet delightful unknown, so the present becomes, as Alan observed, all there is. And regret in the present is foolish, for there is no solution to it, other than resolve to change whatever produced it in the first place.

This was driven home to me this morning (whatever morning it is…. they’re all sort of blurred together….) when I opened the door outside for the first time. I was a bit under the weather, and full of the angst the above serious inner debate had brought. The sheer beauty of the sky, and the light, and the colors of the grass and buildings, all overwhelmed and made insignificant whatever burdens I had been carrying. I took a deep breath of air, stretched a bit in the sunshine, and felt a new man emerging….

Why you look so sad when the sky is perfect blue? — Smart Bee

When this popped up before me, after experiencing the jolt of universal connection I just described, I realized that the entire experience felt even better when I look at it as a lesson…. When I had opened the door, the Universe had seized my perceptions, and forced me to exist only in that moment, absorbing the visual, auditory, and olfactory stimuli, and the feelings those produced in me, creating a form of experiential gestalt of Now that I would never forget, no matter how far from Now I may find myself…… I have no doubt it will come in handy at some point…. 🙂

But I’ll settle for what I have Now….. for Now….
___________________________________

“I cannot here avoid giving my most decided suffrage in favour of the moral qualities of maniacs. I have no where met, excepting in romances, with fonder husbands, more affectionate parents, more impassioned … than in the lunatic asylum, during their intervals of calmness and reason.” — Philippe Pinel, ‘Treatise on Insanity’ 1801

Mssr. Pinel relates an interesting observation here, one that parallels my own experience with those who struggle with mental illnesses. The only difference between us is that he is surprised by this observation, while I am not. I observed mentally ill folks for many years, and have come to the conclusion that those who suffer from long periods of insanity have an intense, strong attachment to those types of feelings that give them relief from that mind-storm, much more so than the “sane”, and love of family certainly tops the list of effective sources for those feelings.

Those who have only periodic forays into the world of sanity tend to appreciate those times most avidly, as they are often few and far between, and offer them the only moments of peace that can be found in their all-too-active inner lives. I believe it is this appreciation that drives them to love so strongly, to give so much to those they love when they are feeling well. They are aware, if only peripherally, that their time with those they love is limited, and they make their best efforts to show what they truly feel.

Those who are considered sane, I have found, tend to take such feelings for granted; this is one reason that there are so many divorces in modern life, as people don’t seem to want to do the work that is necessary to maintain a relationship. In this sense, their feelings are less important to them, or at least less in their attention, and they suffer the consequences that follow as certainly as a sunrise.

In fact, relationships are not the only area that so-called sane people could learn valuable lessons by copying what insane folks do. I’ve found that a lot of folks who can’t handle reality very well are very good artists, and studying their techniques and mind-sets can be a tool of some value for other artists, who don’t necessarily suffer from insanity. This is true even though a lot of artists are accused of it because of their art, and what it makes them do….. I’m sure you’ve heard it before, “he’s not insane, he’s an artist….” That’s me all over….. 🙂

“Insanity — a perfectly rational adjustment to an insane world.” — R. D. Lang ( R.D. Lang was a psychiatrist who lived in the twentieth century, and wrote a lot of material on mental health, in individuals and society. I like this statement, as it is a perfect representation of reality.)
___________________________________

A Lecture Upon The Shadow

Stand still, and I will read to thee
A lecture, love, in love’s philosophy.
These three hours that we have spent,
Walking here, two shadows went
Along with us, which we ourselves produc’d.
But, now the sun is just above our head,
We do those shadows tread,
And to brave clearness all things are reduc’d.
So whilst our infant loves did grow,
Disguises did, and shadows, flow
From us, and our cares; but now ’tis not so.
That love has not attain’d the high’st degree,
Which is still diligent lest others see.

Except our loves at this noon stay,
We shall new shadows make the other way.
As the first were made to blind
Others, these which come behind
Will work upon ourselves, and blind our eyes.
If our loves faint, and westwardly decline,
To me thou, falsely, thine,
And I to thee mine actions shall disguise.
The morning shadows wear away,
But these grow longer all the day;
But oh, love’s day is short, if love decay.
Love is a growing, or full constant light,
And his first minute, after noon, is night.

John Donne

No worries…. morning poetry break…. enjoy!….
___________________________________

We all do some of our best thinking in places that otherwise might not be considered particularly conducive to deep, complex subjects; serendipity comes where it may, though…. and it just occurred to me, in another room that shall be nameless for the sake of delicacy, why I’ve been struggling so hard of late to produce these Pearls.

Over the last few weeks, it seems as if quotes/pearls are hiding from me. It’s been taking me up to three hours a day just to find five pearls worthy of being explored in writing. Very frustrating, even though I read so fast I can cover literally thousands of quotes in an hour…..

What occurred to me is that one of the things that makes me what/who I am is reading books. At the age of 10, due to circumstances beyond my control, I was put in a situation where reading was just about the only form of entertainment available. So, I read, and practice, practice, practice pushed my reading speed up to a point where I could actually read as fast as my mind could absorb the material.

This works out to about 1200 words/minute, basic speed. Deeply complex material, of course, slows it down, and light material allows it to run free, but on average, that number is about right. It works out that it is a perfect speed for consuming one 250-300 page book in one day.

So, I did. I started reading a book a day, and the habit became not merely fixed, but unbreakable. If I go too long without reading, I get physically ill, seriously. Headaches, malaise, distraction, all are caused by not reading enough, and are cured by just a few minutes spent in a novel I’m currently absorbing.

Just letting my eyes work their way over the “words in a line” is soothing; any words will do… cereal boxes, magazines, comics, anything, but a book is best. My mind NEEDS the stimulation that taking in the concepts, ideas, and stories that a book supplies; it’s like breathing to me, I don’t feel right when its smooth functioning is interrupted, and I’ll do almost anything to put it back to rights…..

Thanks, however, to the lasting effects of PTSD, I’ve been unable to concentrate long enough to sit and read. It has been hard, as well, to sublimate by visiting my co-blogger’s sites to read what they are thinking about. And this inability to read sufficiently is what is behind all my difficulties here…. For me, this is an epiphany, for it is a problem with a simple, sustainable solution, easily and immediately applicable.

All I have to do is set aside more time to read, and use a bit of tough-self-love…. I’ll tell myself whatever I need to in order to sit and finish a few books (which, of course, I’ve already got lined up…. it’s not like I haven’t thought of reading, just haven’t dug in to do it….), and all dysfunctional habits, or at least the underlying cause, will disappear like the illusions they really are….

This also, in short order, should act as a spur toward being able to read more blogs, which will be good, too. I’ve been feeling some guilt, something I almost never give in to, because I’ve been unable to get to a lot of sites where I’ve become attached to the authors and their work…. But, I’ve been instructed by at least one of them that I am not to feel guilty, so I won’t. I’ll just be glad I can get back to reading some of them…. and back to eating, er, reading, a book a day….
___________________________________

There is something to be said, I guess, for falling asleep at 6 PM and sleeping straight through to 4 AM. This process went much more smoothly this morning, after a couple of rough starts. More proof that “sleep is a weapon”, no doubt…..

As usual, after a good effort, I’m a bit let down, not yet having finished the technical aspects of publishing, but done with the creative part. Good practice for learning to enjoy even the negative experiences in life, if only for being the precursors to all the good…. Y’all take care out there, and May the Metaphorse be with you…..

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

gigoid

Kowabunga!

The stigma of chronic satyriasis….

Posted on May 21, 2012 by gigoid

Ffolkes,
This will be somewhat of a different Pearl….. How? Well, I can’t say for sure, but my entire morning routine has been usurped, leaving me somewhat bemused. Up late, & therefore up late; this always throws me off a bit. Then, when I checked into WP, somebody had read one of my older posts, from March, so I had to go see which one they read, which sent my head off in odd directions pre-coffee. Very distracting, and I didn’t even know I could BE distracted from this….. unsettling, to say the least.

No worries, though, and no matter. We’ll just apply that old American life skill, so important in today’s world, to wit: sheer denial. I’ll just ignore it, and it will go away, right? It seems to work pretty well for most folks in society; why not me? After all the time I put in to keep folks from denying all the weird stuff that goes on out there, I think I deserve a little bit of denial time, where I can pretend that life is fair, and Murphy is no more real than the Easter Bunny. (Which, if you think about it, has to be one of the most confused icons in existence…. imagine a bunny, having for centuries been the living representation of fertility and sex, then being forced by the Catholic church to become the representation for the Resurrection of a virgin birth deity…. it HAS to be a bit taxing for the rationalization department of the mind….)

“Reality is a nice place to visit, but I wouldn’t want to live there.” — Smart Bee

See, off into tangential stuff already…. this doesn’t look good, ffolkes. I think I’d best get started….. let’s go Pearl, and see if we can get this to fall in line…..
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And God said, Let us make man in our image. — Genesis 1:26

Okay…. the quotes are hiding again today, so we’re settling for this. Does this bother you as much as it bothers me? Probably not…. but, that’s okay, we all know I’m strange, so deal….

It bothers me on a couple of levels, actually. First, let us remember that this was written by a man, not God Himself (though I’m sure He could have; probably doesn’t have a functioning word processor yet…. He’s kind of old school, by all reports….) With that in mind, who was He talking to? Was it a prescient use of the royal ‘We’? Was the Holy Spirit standing there giving design advice? To be honest, I’m not sure I really want to know… especially if it was the latter; I’m certain I couldn’t feel completely safe having a God with an imaginary friend….

“I think I just heresied on several important religions.” — Smart Bee

Second, in “our image”…. This would seem to imply that God looks like us, or more accurately, I guess, we look like Him. What kind of omnipotent deity needs to display ego like that? And how do we know that he was talking about us in the first place? Maybe man is the platypus, and that is what God really looks like. I think I’d feel better if it was true, though not any more convinced that God is perfectly sane…..

Egotist, n.: A person of low taste, more interested in himself than me. — Ambrose Bierce, The Devil’s Dictionary

But, to be perfectly honest, this seems like an advertising campaign to me, started by a group of deists who weren’t pulling in enough during the services to keep them in the style to which they wished to become accustomed. So they wrote this book, and kept repeating that it was sacred until enough people started believing it, and the donations started to pour in, because, hey, God looks like Me! It’s got to be one of history’s all time most successful scams, and the system has gotten more sophisticated through the centuries, until today, most folks are completely indoctrinated in this nonsense by the time they are four or five years old.

“It is an open question whether any behavior based on fear of eternal punishment can be regarded as ethical or should be regarded as merely cowardly.” — Margaret Mead

It amazes me that people, who are normally quite sane and discriminating in their thinking, can fall for this so completely. The entire system of religious belief seems to me to be founded on a pack of rather unbelievable lies, or at least wishful thinking, based completely on the absolute refusal of its proponents to acknowledge reality as it exists, instead assuming an unproven, and unprovable, set of concepts that supposedly are designed to make life better, but in reality merely afford a higher standard of living to an entire group of people who would otherwise starve for lack of any real skills at living, i.e. preachers. I guess, if one has the stomach for living a deliberate lie, it can be a good gig….

“All national institutions of churches, whether Jewish, Christian, or Turkish, appear to me no other than human inventions, set up to terrify and enslave mankind, and monopolize power and profit.” — Thomas Paine
___________________________________ Obviously, no further comment needed…. But, doesn’t it just make you proud to speak and write English?…. Besides, I’m still having trouble finding material this morning, and this is a good little distraction…. Onward….
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A Thing of Beauty (Endymion)
A thing of beauty is a joy for ever:
Its loveliness increases; it will never
Pass into nothingness; but still will keep
A bower quiet for us, and a sleep
Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.
Therefore, on every morrow, are we wreathing
A flowery band to bind us to the earth,
Spite of despondence, of the inhuman dearth
Of noble natures, of the gloomy days,
Of all the unhealthy and o’er-darkn’d ways
Made for our searching: yes, in spite of all,
Some shape of beauty moves away the pall
From our dark spirits. Such the sun, the moon,
Trees old and young, sprouting a shady boon
For simple sheep; and such are daffodils
With the green world they live in; and clear rills
That for themselves a cooling covert make
‘Gainst the hot season; the mid-forest brake,
Rich with a sprinkling of fair musk-rose blooms:
And such too is the grandeur of the dooms
We have imagined for the mighty dead;
An endless fountain of immortal drink,
Pouring unto us from the heaven’s brink.

John Keats

No worries….. just a beauty break….
___________________________________ Too funny….. priceless expressions! And better material than anything else I can find today….
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Bring me to the test,
And I the matter will re-word; which madness
Would gambol from. Mother, for love of grace,
Lay not that flattering unction to your soul.
— William Shakespeare (1564-1616), Hamlet — Act iii, Sc. 4

Huh?

A merry heart goes all the day,
Your sad tires in a mile-a.
— William Shakespeare (1564-1616), The Winter’s Tale — Act iv, Sc. 3

I repeat, Huh?

One fair daughter and no more,
The which he loved passing well.
— William Shakespeare (1564-1616), Hamlet — Act ii, Sc. 2

A rather lukewarm, left-handed compliment, I’d say…. and completely misogynistic….

How many ages hence
Shall this our lofty scene be acted over
In states unborn and accents yet unknown!
— William Shakespeare (1564-1616), Julius Caesar — Act iii, Sc. 1

Okay, so this one makes some kind of sense…. but it’s still just a self-plug for the play…. More proof Will was a hack….

But now I am cabin’d, cribb’d, confined, bound in
To saucy doubts and fears.
— William Shakespeare (1564-1616), Macbeth — Act iii, Sc. 4

This one comes close, but then veers away from clarity and dives right into obscurity…. typical…. One more….

Oh that the desert were my dwelling-place,
With one fair spirit for my minister,
That I might all forget the human race,
And hating no one, love but only her!
— Lord Byron (1788-1824) — Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage, Canto iv, Stanza 177

Oops! That’s not Will…. but it does highlight my point about him, and stands as good contrast for all that went before…. Kind of like a mouthwash on a hangover morning, yes? Or, like the first sip of coffee in the morning; everything comes into focus…. I feel fortunate that Shakespeare’s work has an On/Off Button, which I tend to keep taped on Off….

“The last good thing I saw on TV was the off switch.” — J. Craig Brunson (craig@ukpr.uky.edu)
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What an epic battle! I hope none of the blood splattered on your clothes…. this turned into the most difficult of all the Pearls I’ve ever created. In the end, I was forced to give up trying to find a quote, and went for the cheap laughs…. But I’m not taking any of it back, as it took too much effort to get it into the shape it now assumes. We’ll see how it looks once we get it onto the blog page before I make any decisions as to its value….

In all honesty, I may not even re-read it, as I confess that I’d be tempted to just delete the whole thing…. Ah well, I suppose even I must occasionally settle for less than my best effort…. Given the handicaps I encountered all morning, I could say that it was brave of me to plow through to the finish…. brave or stupid, one or the other…. So be it…. no more waffling…

Y’all take care out there, and May the Metaphorse be with you…..

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

gigoid

Kowabunga!

Which is the silliest objective?

Posted on May 20, 2012 by gigoid

Ffolkes,
After a certain amount of time, reality becomes hard to hold on to with a sure grip. Stuff happens. (Don’t ask….) And when that stuff is happening, our grasp of what we thought was unchangeable grows tenuous, at best. Most folks just breeze right through these moments, never realizing that their entire universe is mere seconds away from crashing about their ears. These are the fortunate ones. For those of us who regularly battle with reality to keep it in even a semblance of normalcy, these moments are terrifying challenges, fraught with the danger of imminent death of life and the universe as we know it, or at least, indigestion……

The brain is broken this morning. I tried to use it earlier, and got no response at all. Now, I sit down to write, and you see the result…. Pathetic. Indigestion, indeed. I’ll give me indigestion…. hell, I do that on a regular basis anyway, just by reading the news; it takes no special effort. Try to convince a broken brain of that though….

I’m not sure how to proceed. I’ve never really had to deal with a full break before; there have always been some peripheral functions that remained intact. But this seems to be a complete system-wide shut down, and I’m not sure if it is a hardware or software problem, so it makes trouble-shooting a bit of a facer, what?

Sorry, been watching English mini-series’ movies of Lord Peter Whimsy’s mysteries, and I’m still speaking in English drawing room comedy language…. quite the thing, don’t y’know? It’s so very…. British…. Such a wonderful vehicle for sarcasm and comedic facial expressions, and all of the characters are archetypal representations of the various English types…. to the manor born, the butler, or “gentleman’s gentleman”, the vicar, the blacksmith, the sexton, the farmer, etc. And they all wear the most sensible shoes….

Well, as can be seen, things may wander a bit today, so I’d best start wending my way toward the end….. the beginning will have to cope on its own at this point; I can do no more for it, and will just let it die a natural death….. let’s go Pearl….
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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

Writing about Murphy’s Law can be a delicate, tricky process, since the mere use of his name is generally enough to draw his attention, something all of us learn to avoid at an early age. At least, all of us who retain any sanity at all have learned to avoid his ministrations, except when forced to accept them. So, writing about his place in the scheme of things can take on the aspect of a nightmare, a terrifying one, one that not only wakes one up, but remains real when awake. The only possible way to avoid this is to make the piece you are writing as glowingly positive as you can….

One doesn’t write about how little Murphy’s presence is hated; we point out how his benign humor keeps us humble. We don’t tell how his latest escapade has put us back several years in our plans for life; we acknowledge his wisdom in keeping us with our nose to the grindstone. And we certainly don’t complain about how much of an asshole he is, or he will most certainly turn what we write into the biggest pile of crap that ever was assembled in one place.

Ah, fuck it. I hate the asshole. His perverted sense of humor has caused more heartache for humanity than Hitler. He thinks he is a celebrity, like Santa Claus, or the Easter Bunny, but his degree of fame, or, more accurately, infamy, is more on the order of The Swamp Thing, or Freddy Kruger, without the advantage of their cultish chic.

If there were any part of reality as it exists that I would change, it would be to remove Murphy’s head from his shoulders, and consign him to one of the deepest parts of hell, where he would forever be subjected to just those kinds of incidents that he is so fond of perpetrating on the unsuspecting members of society…. Bloody prick…. I know that all cultures have their Murphy…. he may be called Loki, or Kokopelli, or some other name, and even may be counted as a god. But, fuck him anyway, he’s an asshole; I don’t have to like him…. and I don’t..

Popular consensus says that reality is based on popular consensus. — Smart Bee
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“Believe nothing merely because you have been told it… Do not believe what your teacher tells you merely out of respect for the teacher. But whatsoever, after due examination and analysis, you find to be kind, conducive to the good, the benefit, the welfare of all beings — that doctrine believe and cling to, and take it as your guide.” — Buddha

This idea is almost unknown in Western society, and if you require evidence, just look at the TV Guide for this week. Every minute of every day the airwaves are filled with blatant attempts to influence what people think about, what they buy, or should want to buy, how to relate to other people, or who they should vote for in the next election. I don’t think there are more than one person out of a hundred thousand who has an original thought in their head, one not generated by some excited announcer giving them the latest way to waste their time and money.

In addition to the wasteland that is TV, we have religion, always prepared to jump into people’s lives and tell them how they are doing it wrong, and how the only way to get to heaven is to buy into the product they are selling, thereby handing over the keys to their own minds, and checkbooks. If one looks at it objectively, it’s a pretty good gig, this preacher business.

All you have to do is be able to tell people what you think is true with a straight face, and stand back and watch the money pour in. Hell, anybody with the chutzpah and the patter can become a preacher; it doesn’t even require a license, though it does help to file the certificates and forms that make it so your church doesn’t have to pay taxes. That’s always a bonus item in favor among the truly religious.

“Writing science fiction for about a penny a word is no way to make a living, If you really want to make a million, the quickest way is to start your own religion.” — L. Ron Hubbard

L. Ron was as good as his word…. He was talking to Robert Heinlein one day (they were old friends, having attended Annapolis together in their youth….), and complaining about how his science fiction wasn’t selling as well as Bob’s. He made Bob a bet, that he could start a religion, one that had no basis in reality outside his head, and could become richer than Croesus without having to lift a finger…. Bob took the bet, and L. Ron wrote “Dianetics”, the book that is now the basis for the Church of Scientology.

This “religion” has become a reality, with millions of members worldwide, all of whom are firmly convinced of the truth of what is in their bible; in reality, their bible was a load of crap nonsense that came straight out of L. Ron’s head, and has no actual relation to anything in the real world…..Imagine, a religion based on Science, without a single number or equation to be found anywhere in its precepts. I find it to be one of history’s finest jokes, and the shenanigans of the constituents of the “church” provide me with endless entertainment…. Brilliant!…. And, of course, just desserts for those who have adopted such an asinine philosophy, all based on a joke bet….

“It’s hard to decide if T.V. makes morons out of everyone or if it mirrors Americans who really are morons to begin with.” — Martin Mull
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And God said: “Let there be cats!” and He was promptly ignored. — Smart Bee

I don’t often write about cats. I’m not sure why that is, because I love them just about as much as I love dogs. Mankind, in his history on this planet, has engaged the help and companionship of purpose (i.e., life…) of several of our mammalian relatives. Dogs, cats, horses, pigs, sheep, cattle, all have agreed, passively or actively, to join us in the struggle to exist here on Earth. We all provide different life skills that we possess to the mix, skills that complement each other, affording us the strength that arises from group effort. In essence, we have contracted with each other to provide services for actions that we cannot accomplish alone.

Each of those animals who chose to live with us, sharing our food and campfire, shelter and company, have their own motivations for doing so, not all of which are self-serving. In fact, I would say that the reason that dogs and cats often appear to have for their continued relationships with us can mostly be attributed to love. People develop very close, affectionate relationships with those two types of creatures, and the love we feel for them is obviously returned. No other explanation makes sense for explaining why a dog or cat will save a human’s life, by warning of a fire, by attacking an aggressor, or why they will come to us and offer comfort in times of sadness and pain.

Cats are perhaps more independent in their relations with us, but their love is continuously demonstrated, even in those actions that apparently are rude, such as their ability to ignore us when they so desire. I see those times as being the moments when they are defining the limits of their personal space, their need to maintain dignity at all cost. It’s a cat thing. Sometimes their love only shows in the fact that they continue to stay with us, and deign to accept our attentions. After all, in ancient Egypt, cats were worshiped as gods, and I don’t think they’ve ever forgotten…. Bless their pointy little ears…..

I can’t imagine living without dogs and cats. I prefer to have both as companions; often the relationship that develops between the two diametrically opposed species is deep and caring, and observing how they learn to get along with each other is a constant lesson that our political “experts” would benefit from learning.

Before I was summarily dismissed from my last relationship, Noah and I lived with a cat who firmly believed that Noah was his big brother. The cat, named Tony, would follow Noah around, play with him, and preferred to sleep with him at night (I have pictures….). He knew Noah was old, and took care to treat him gently (he was a big, powerful cat…. about 17 lbs, and no fat….). When Noah was struggling to walk upstairs, Tony would walk behind him, swatting at his tail end, spurring him to get up the steps….

It broke my heart when Noah and I were told to move, never to see Tony again. Noah would often wander around the new house, looking for something, then come and look at me as if to ask where Tony was…. it was tough, believe me, and still hurts…. Which goes to show,I like animals much more than I like most humans…. and for good reason….
___________________________________

“One can’t complain. I have my friends. Someone spoke to me only yesterday.” — A.A. Milne’s Eeyore

Aye, indeed, one can’t complain. Though I live a life of solitude, I am not often lonely. I have my friends, who, though they live elsewhere, are ever as close as the phone. These are the kind of friends of whom I know that even if they call me at 3 AM, or if I would call them at such an hour, they wouldn’t say, “Why are you calling so late?”, but rather, “What do you need?” I count at least 8 people among those I know who fit that definition, and that is wealth indeed….

One of them called me yesterday, just to chat. In turn, I called one of them, who was celebrating her birthday (quietly, as those at our age are wont to do….). Both calls were enough human contact for me. I don’t miss work, or having to deal with the general run of human interaction at a high level; I have to admit, this whole retirement thing fits right in with my preferred style of living. I get to decide how much I deal with people, and that is another form of wealth that is seldom counted…. a true freedom, the freedom to say “no”…. We first learn the power of “no” around age two, but we seldom actually think about how powerful a word it is….

“No, I don’t want to do that…” now has much more meaning and strength when I say it, because I know that it is all my decision. Of course, this makes me fully responsible for what happens, but that is true anyway, and can thus be discounted as a motivating factor. It just helps me to be more careful in the decision-making process. “No, I won’t….” No, you can’t…” All of these options now have more force in my life, and it is a heady sort of power. It isn’t surprising that so many folks, as they get older, take more and more advantage of this power; it is perhaps their first time at feeling in control of their lives….. Unfortunately, this often leads them into becoming negative in their outlook, which causes other problems….

But, for me at least, it’s nice to be able to tell the world to go take a hike now and again. And it sure makes practicing to be a curmudgeon easier!….. No, no, no, I won’t!….. 🙂
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It’s only cheating when you get caught! — Smart Bee

One never knows when a rant will strike…. I almost cruised past this, as I have innumerable times when I’ve seen it before. But then I stopped for a moment and thought about it…. and got angrier and angrier the more I considered it.

My anger arises from my obstructed desire, of course, which, in this case, is the desire to see the morality of mankind become, shall we say, less self-serving, and leave it at that? I’d like to see more honesty in the world, as I see the lack of it, or worse, the active denial of it, as the worst affliction society suffers. The willingness of the wicked to lie and cheat, and the willingness of the general populace to condone it by their indifference to those lies, is the root of almost all the other problems facing our species.

This idea, that it is okay to cheat if nobody is looking, has been adopted as truth by most people. Even the most apparently incorruptible people will cheat to achieve their ends, using the rationality, or the charity, or the innate rightness of their goals as justifiable reasons for the dishonesty in action. It’s called fighting fire with fire, and while it may work when dealing with conflagrations in a forest, the analogy does not translate accurately to the raging fires in human society.

The acceptance of this concept, of the inherent value of cheating, is based on a concept from martial arts, the practice of deception, of movement, of strategy, of information. In a war, or battle, being able to misinform one’s opponent of one’s true disposition and plan is invaluable as a strategy. Control of information is vital in war. Those who do not learn this practice can never be successful in battle, for they have lost before beginning.

Modern politics, the art of war against the people by their rulers, is rife with this strategy. Politicians routinely lie, not just to the people over whom they wish to rule, but to those who rule with them. The entire system of political strategy in this country is based on who can get the voters to believe the lies they are handing out, while simultaneously accusing their opponents of using the self-same tactics. Whichever one convinces the most fools wins the chance to loot the public treasury for the next few years, when we are again subjected to the cycle of lies and cheating….

Ah hell…. it’s a nice looking day outside, and here I am ranting about assholes who aren’t going to change anyway…. something wrong with that picture, so I guess I’ll go do something more constructively fun than this… though I have to admit I feel better…. It always helps me to call Mitt Romney an asshole…. makes my whole morning….
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This turned on me a bit…. it became something of a small ordeal, but, I won…. I’ve fought through to the end of another morning’s ramblings, and it looks like a pretty far-ranging ramble indeed…. Well, such as it is, here it is…. Y’all take care out there, and May the Metaphorse be with you…..

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

gigoid

Kowabunga!

Flats of unwarranted pebbles slid home….

Posted on May 19, 2012 by gigoid

Ffolkes,
I’m sorry…were the voices in my head bothering you? They bother me sometimes, but I’ve learned to ignore them, mostly, and I tend to forget that others might not like it either. Since I killed my doctor and stopped taking the medications, I’ve felt MUCH better! If they get to be too much, just let me know, and I’ll blow a few of them away; it quiets the rest of them down for a while….

Soon, I’m sure, the pressure on my head will abate…. when change is ubiquitous, one need merely to wait for all things to pass with patience, and all we desire will come to us. And if not, well, we can always run amok. Oh wait, that one is on hold…. that’s right, I signed an agreement not to kill anyone else this month; my lawyer is still recovering from my last outburst. It took all he had to get the insanity plea accepted, and having to do this on a regular basis seems to be affecting his sanity a bit; as an ex-psychiatric technician, I can testify that, despite all medical opinions to the contrary, mental illness is contagious….

“There’s nothing on my mind that couldn’t be expressed by a long insane outburst of hysterical rage.” — Ashleigh Brilliant

But, don’t worry, it can’t be passed through the computer screen, so y’all are perfectly safe. Of course, safe is a relative term, especially when dealing with what I generally write about. I’ve purposely been peppering my work with buzz words for the NSA to find, words like terrorism, or war, or government flunkies, stuff like that. I’m sure that I’ve been on their radar now for a while; it’s kind of fun, trying to see just how much I can get away with saying before they come to have a word with me about it…. It must be the shit-disturber in me….

Ah well, I suppose we should get on with the business of the day…. shall we Pearl?…. Let’s do….
___________________________________

But words are things, and a small drop of ink,
Falling like dew upon a thought, produces
That which makes thousands, perhaps millions, think.
— Lord Byron (1788-1824) — Don Juan, Canto iii, Stanza 88

If I could use words like this, then what I produce could conceivably influence millions of folks, for certain. But we all need to know, and observe, our limitations as an artist. Even though a big part of creating something worthwhile consists of going beyond those limits, it is still good to know when to stop, too. I can write a decent haiku, but a poem such as above seems to be beyond my capability. I’ve tried, goodness knows….

I have notebooks full of passionate, complex, really bad poetry that I created when I was young. Free verse, classical format, rhyming couplets, iambic pentameter, I tried all of it at one time or another. I let it sit for years before going back to read it over, and am forced to admit that not only was it not very good, I couldn’t think of any way to improve it. Ah me, I guess I can’t do everything, much as I like to think so…. SIGH…. You’ll just have to settle for Pearls of Virtual Wisdom…. 🙂
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“If a sufficient number of people who wanted to stop war really did gather together, they would first of all begin by making war upon those who disagreed with them. And it is still more certain that they would make war on people who also want to stop wars but in another way.” — Gurdjieff (1873-1949)

Actually, this is not so much of a predictive statement as an observational one. It certainly matches what I know of much of history, and how little the actual reasons for fighting wars are understood by either those who fight in them, or those who cause them to be fought. Neither of those two groups are mutually inclusive, as well, so the reasons that one group may have, or believe they have, for fighting may be (and probably are…) much different from the other groups reasons, stated or actual.

Now, if I can be any less clear in my meaning, please let me know, because I think that paragraph is pretty obscure….

What I’m trying to say is, the folks who get talked into fighting wars don’t fight for the same reasons as the folks who asked, or told, them to fight. That is because the folks who end up fighting are the honorable, dedicated men (and women) who believe that they are protecting the people they love.

The folks who send them to fight are not as honorable, and their reasons for initiating the conflicts are seldom related to people, but rather to money or power, which is what they love. It is a perverted love, yes, but it is nonetheless the primary motivating factor for those who would have power over others, for money equals power in the reality they inhabit.

Gurdijeff’s statement is, I find, too limited in its scope; it doesn’t account for all the different reasons that people are motivated to fight wars. It is a fair and accurate assessment of what is a likely progression of events if men of little purpose beyond their own prejudices are united in cause, because, hey, humans here, not rational creatures by any means, especially in groups….. But humanity is comprised of more than just these folks, and ALL of the different kinds of people in our species have historically resorted to violent means to settle large disputes. It’s a human thing…. not pretty, but there it is, just like a wart that won’t go away…..

So how does one stop war? Hmm… well, I can’t claim to have the answer to a question that several thousand years of human history has shown to be somewhat hard to solve with any lasting effect. I’ve managed to avoid taking part in the actions that our country has involved itself in in my lifetime, having seen none that I could honestly say was as important to fight as the government was trying to tell me it was. If I’m going to die, it will be for an honorable goal, not for someone’s profit margin….

War isn’t going to stop unless we change the whole structure of our culture, and remove the benefits of one person having power over another. It’s a very deep, subtle, and pretty well impossible change, its success resting as it does on changing human nature…. That hasn’t happened in all of history so far, and I don’t see it happening anytime soon… so we’d best stay alert to avoid the worst of the fallout from whatever happens….

If a lawyer and an IRS agent were both drowning, and you could only save one of them, would you go to lunch or read the paper?– Smart Bee (It’s a subtle connection, but it’s there, trust me….)
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“Anger is a tool, not a master. Anger is meant to be tapped into and drawn upon. Used properly, anger is useful. Sloth, apathy, and despair are the enemy. Anger is not. Anger is our friend. Not a nice friend, not a gentle friend, but a very loyal friend. It will always tell us when we have been betrayed. It will always tell us when we have betrayed ourselves. It will always tell us that it is time to act in our own best interests. Anger is not the action itself. It is action’s invitation.” — Julia Cameron “The Artist’s Way”

Interesting take, and the secret of the berserker….. who is, after all, a martial artist who has channeled his anger into following the path of the Way. I like this viewpoint in its proactive sense; it doesn’t allow anger to control, but instead assumes control of the anger. It is a tricky proposition, at best, but when learned, can be very, very effective as a tool in dealing with outbreaks of violence not of our choosing, which I would hope would be all of them….. 😉

During my years of studying martial arts, I was taught to practice this kind of control. In competition fighting, there are many tricks one can use to get the opponent to make a mistake; one of the most effective is to do something that angers the opponent. In most folks, anger causes the reasoning part of the mind to shut down; actions, or, more accurately, reactions, that occur in response to anger are impulsive, spur-of-the-moment decisions for the most part, and as such, do not always make the best choice of strategy or tactics. If one can maintain one’s own sense of equilibrium in the midst of a physical battle, it becomes a distinct advantage, as the calm person is more capable of processing new information and making more rapid adjustments to meet the needs of the moment.

But, even if one becomes infused with anger, it CAN be channeled constructively, and in truth, when acting under its influence, using proper regulation, it can increase speed, strength, and power by a large factor. If not used correctly, it still adds strength, but the strength is usually misdirected, thus reducing its effectiveness. But, when correctly channeled, one enters the “berserker” state, almost robotic in its precision, and becomes a most formidable weapon of destruction. It’s quite exhilarating, actually….

It has its dangers, as well…. allowing anger to flow completely is accompanied by a release of adrenaline into the blood stream. Adrenaline is a very powerful hormone, affecting every system in the body in some way, and prolonged use of it is deleterious in a number of ways…. In my own case, due to the work I did for many years, and the number of times I had to enter berserker mode, it produced Post Traumatic Stress Dysfunction, with all its attendant wonders…. such a joy…..

So, while this is a healthy attitude to take about one’s own anger, it is not a solution that is without risk. Anger is a volatile emotion, and like any explosive substance, it should be handled with care……

“If you don’t deal with anger, it will deal with you.” — Will Limon
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“If I read a book (and) it makes my whole body so cold no fire can warm me, I know that is poetry.” — Emily Dickinson

Once again, my dive for pearls is coming up short for poetry…. I’ll have to cheat…. but will do so with an appropriate tip of the hat to current events…. at least, current to me….

Pain has an element of blank;
It cannot recollect
When it began, or if there were
A day when it was not.

It has no future but itself,
Its infinite realms contain
Its past, enlightened to perceive
New periods of pain.
— Emily Dickinson

This is one of my favorite poems from Ms. D. I first read it in high school, but even then it resonated with its insight. Now, of course, it’s as if she could see into my soul, and pluck out my pain to look at like a bug under a microscope…. She must have felt a fair amount of it herself, to achieve such a clear vision of its presence in the spirit of those who have it as constant companion…. No matter, I like it, so it stays…. 🙂
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I love this, and it is a perfect ending pearl…. as well, it is a trailer, as it were, for another Pearl, coming later….
___________________________________

I’m shooting for a bit of variety today, and actually will try to get some productive stuff done in the Big Blue Room. Well, as much as can be accomplished on a weekend anyway…. I also want to mention that I will be posting two Pearls today… The second will be posted after this one has been let fly, and is a departure into another area…. photo pearling…. I hope you enjoy it, as I hope you enjoy this one…. Y’all take care out there, and May the Metaphorse be with you…..

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

gigoid

Kowabunga!

Major fun for trapezoids….

Posted on May 18, 2012 by gigoid

Ffolkes,
Maybe I should follow Robert Heinlein’s advice more often, and wash my hands after writing. It’s possible that what gets on them during that nasty process is turning toxic, and slowly destroying my brain. If so, this is one of those things that should be included in the manual for burgeoning authors…. but, then, perhaps it is not there for a reason. Perhaps that particular piece of knowledge has been deliberately withheld in order to limit the total number of authors who are writing at any one time. Perhaps there is a quota that the Universe maintains, so that too many authors aren’t haranguing the public all at once.

Nah…. I don’t think so. That would imply assigning just a bit more intelligence to the universe than I’m willing to believe in, even considering Murphy, and his interfering ways. No, there must be something else going on to make my brain feel so much like mush. I’m sleeping too much, I can’t concentrate, I’m easily distracted, and subject to fits of emotions I thought I’d banished years ago (such as the guilt described yesterday…. haven’t felt that in many moons….). If I didn’t know better, I’d think I was coming down off crack, or some other addictive drug, and suffering the withdrawal symptoms. But, since the only addictive drug I’m using is prescribed, and I’m not out of it, that doesn’t explain it either.

Perhaps it’s the celibacy thing catching up to me. I don’t think I’ve ever had a period of my life where I’ve gone so long without a least token physical intimacy, even when I was married…. 🙂 Since I have not experienced such a drought before, I can’t say whether the symptoms are congruent with what I’m experiencing now, but I have heard that it can be quite strenuous on the organism when the absence of that particular form of exercise is in effect. It isn’t something I’ve ever really thought about…. I don’t think that’s it, though, it just doesn’t make sense, unless one believes that to create well, an artist must suffer. Suffer, okay, but is there any need to be cruel?…. Oh, yeah, forgot…. Murphy…. well….

Whatever is going on, it’s like pushing through clouds of cotton candy to find a thought; finding one worth writing about may turn into a real struggle, if this intro is any indication. I suppose it would be best to just ignore this brain thing as much as possible, and get on with the rest of what is planned…. who knows? It may turn out just fine…. we’ll just have to dive in and see, won’t we? Shall we Pearl?….
___________________________________

“And torture one poor word ten thousand ways.” — John Dryden (1631-1700) — Britannia Rediviva, Line 208

Wow! Have you ever seen a better description of this blog? 🙂 I’ve been torturing words now for over 12 years, at least in a bloggy sense; that’s about how long I’ve been doing these Pearls. I’ve learned over the years not to hear their screams, or read the petitions, or pay any attention to the ones who try to distract me with their flexibility of meaning; I just strap them into the rack and start hacking away. Sometimes in the intro, I force them to assume the shape of a short fantasy; other times I will completely embarrass them by telling them they are haiku, or a poem, when they know for certain I am no poet. I can be pretty cruel to the words in my head…..

I figure it’s only fair, considering how they treat me much of the time. I don’t ask much of them, really…. just the morning group of five good pearls I can use to create these missives, and I’d leave them be. But much of the time, such as today, they insist on playing games, hiding, shifting about, presenting only the quotes they know I’ve already used, or massive amounts of Shakespeare, which they KNOW just annoys me…..

No, they’re not very nice to me, so I feel no compunction about torturing them to get them to do what I need them to do. If I didn’t, I’d never get anything written. If I didn’t write as much as I do, I’d build up all this incredibly strong angst and tension, and eventually it would have to come out…. and at that point, it can be dangerous, especially if there is anyone else in the immediate vicinity of the blast zone….

So, you see, this blog is really a public service in disguise…. No thanks are necessary: since they are my words, I take responsibility for them, and consider it my duty to keep them from harming others (except, of course, when I want them to do so…..). I just didn’t want y’all to think I was hiding anything important…. I like to call this my Literary Guantanamo Bay for Wayward Words, where we have the leeway, and the executive authority, to torture those nasty little terror-inducing buggers into submission….
___________________________________

“I believe that it should be perfectly lawful to print even things that outrage the pruderies and prejudices of the general, so long as any honest minority, however small, wants to read them. The remedy of the majority is not prohibition, but avoidance.” — H.L. Mencken, “Baltimore Evening Sun”, March 31, 1924

The key idea here is in the last line… I like to call it On/Off Button Training, and should be required of all children from the age of 5, with periodic refresher courses throughout life. It is a lesson that apparently has been completely forgotten or ignored for a long time by society at large, and our culture badly needs to re-learn it.

Put most simply, this lesson says, “If you don’t like it, turn it off. Change the channel. Walk away. Mind you own business, and let other folks mind theirs.” The lack of general knowledge of this principle is, in my mind, responsible for at least three-quarters of the issues that are currently being argued in the public arena, especially that of LGBT rights, women’s rights, and separation of church and state.

Mrs. Grundy, Robert Heinlein’s archetypical busybody, and the forces of religious intolerance, have been creating a firestorm of outrage and public hullabaloo for years now about these issues, especially gay marriage. For goodness sake, why is it so hard for them to understand? If they don’t like gay marriage, then don’t marry a gay person! Sheesh! Seems pretty simple to me….

But, for some reason, a large part of humanity seems to think that what they believe should be what everyone else is forced to believe, and for the most part, they refuse to even listen to any arguments that would belie that delusion. It is impossible to reason with someone who refuses to even discuss an issue, who has closed their mind to any possible change.

So, it places all of us who would rather try to get along with folks rather than fuss and fight all the damn time to use our own On/Off Button, and switch channels, or walk away when we are confronted with their ignorance…. But, make sure you are watching your back as you turn away; they can turn vicious if they feel threatened by your indifference…. just like any small rodent…..

“And what is a good citizen? Simply one who never says, does or thinks anything that is unusual. Schools are maintained in order to bring this uniformity up to the highest possible point. A school is a hopper into which children are heaved while they are still young and tender; therein they are pressed into certain standard shapes and covered from head to heels with official rubber-stamps.” — H.L. Mencken
___________________________________

“It may be irrational of me, but human beings are quite my favorite species.” — Doctor Who, Ark in Space

It probably seems to most folks reading this blog that I don’t like people very much. I tend to spend a lot of time finding and pointing out the things I see in them that I don’t like, and discussing them at nearly interminable length, which would seem to indicate a lack of affection for the species as a whole. In reality, the opposite is true…. I love people… I love watching them, listening to them, thinking about them, writing about them…. They afford me no end of intellectual stimulation, entertaining comedic genius, and fertile fields of thought and endeavor to explore, virtually and actually.

Human society and culture is an incredibly beautiful, complex tapestry of emotion and creativity; nobility, cruelty, heroes, villains, puppies, cats, love, hate, and all the rest of the things that make people what they are unfolds before us every day, growing and adding length and breadth to that tapestry of existence.

I can’t think of anything more interesting than the drama/comedy that is human history in the making…. I might wish it to be a more compassionate world, with less tyranny and oppression, without slavery and starvation. I might wish that my life would not be so complicated by ignorance and intolerance, and I might wish that the small percentage of humanity that holds the remainder in the grip of their own avarice would die horrible deaths worthy of their own evil natures.

But, I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Nor would I say that any of these changes are particularly apt to happen without many more people in the world taking an interest in them; most folks just go through life trying to get by, and not be bothered with anything more complicated, and one can’t really blame them, bless their cowardly little hearts…. My own method of dealing with how much I’d like to see reality change is to write about what I see, and what I think can be different, with the right set of attitudes.

This desire to see the changes arises out of my love for my fellow man, not from indignation or outrage, though they are present. But what I write, and what I’m trying to accomplish, is to help folks deal with life in a way that allows them more freedom, of whatever kind they wish to have, whether monetary, intellectual, religious, or physical; my motivation is to share the strength and freedom of thought that I have sought so hard to achieve… Mankind has much more potential than we are showing in our actions, and I would love to see more of it fulfilled, rather than stifled, as in current society…. we can be so much more…..

“Joy in looking and comprehending is nature’s most beautiful gift.” — Albert Einstein
___________________________________

“Such bickerings to recount, met often in these our writers, what more worth is it than to chronicle the wars of kites or crows flocking and fighting in the air?” — John Milton (1608-1674) — The History of England, Book iv

Did you ever wonder why a group of crows is called a congress? I didn’t. It makes perfect sense to me…. Dark, sinister looking creatures who act in odd ways, even for birds. Their behaviors tend to lean toward stealing shiny objects from wherever, or stealing the food of people or other animals and birds. When they speak, it is in a voice that grates on the ear like fingernails on a slate. In groups, they mill around, cackling and grumbling and jostling each other, until they all fly off to different areas to carry out whatever nefarious schemes they have hatched among them. No, I have no problem envisioning a congress of crows; in fact, I believe they are in session now in Washington, D.C. ….
___________________________________

“God is more interested in your future and your relationships than you are.” — Billy Graham

First, let me apologize…. I hadn’t meant to go into a rant this morning, especially about religion; sitting down is as difficult as standing up or walking, so the time it takes to express the outrage necessary to produce a rant is more than I wanted to take. But then this popped up in front of me….

After I had picked myself up from the floor and recovered my breath, I still could barely stop chuckling and giggling long enough to use the mouse to cut and paste it to this page. Now that I have, I find myself almost speechless at the sheer arrogance, the complete lack of respect shown for humanity at large by this astounding statement.

In one short phrase, this deeply disturbed man has attempted to manipulate his listeners into a complete subjugation of their will, and in doing so, implies that they are not only unworthy in a moral sense, but are not smart enough to be allowed to think for themselves. I’m surprised he didn’t ask for money in the same sentence…. You can bet he did before the end of the speech….

I remember seeing Billy Graham when I was quite young, speaking on TV to a football stadium full of enthusiastically cheering, excited, identical clones in white cotton dresses, with skirts below the knees, and blue suits, with white shirts, no vests, and skinny ties. Even at the tender age of 11 or so when I saw it, my first impression of him was of a used-car salesman, with a smarmy-looking smile at inappropriate moments, and a smooth, fawning manner of speaking that ranged from sly confidences to outraged proclamations of evil and sin, all delivered in very obviously scripted stages.

The words and phrases he used, straight out of the King James Bible, mostly, seemed to promote love and tolerance, but the underlying message was one of elitism and divisiveness, as indicated by the insistence that only those who accepted JC according to their rules would be allowed into heaven…. The rest of us would be consigned to everlasting hell for having the audacity to think differently…. It was pretty over-the-top, as far as I was concerned, though entertaining in a circus sort of way….

It is now 50 years since I saw that particular revival meeting, and Mr. Graham has continued to spew his particular brand of ignorance for that entire time. He is indeed one of the men of whom St. Francis of Assisi warned us to beware, a man of one book. And the above statement, to me, is proof of just how little he thinks of the general run of human beings. His basic message is, “You are a miserable sinner, and have no right to exist, other than at the mercy of God. You are not smart enough to keep from sinning on your own, so just shut up and listen to what you are told….”

It is certainly proof, I guess, that the world takes all kinds, for there are millions of folks out there who regard what Billy Graham says as just as much gospel as what is in the Bible…. but then in for a penny, in for a pound, I suppose…. Me, I’d rather listen to a ball game…..
___________________________________

One more time unto the breach, and out again on the other side… Not bad for starting two hours late, and I only had to take about a dozen breaks to stretch and move a bit. I’ll take it…..

Hmm…. I just realized there is no poem….can’t have that… be right back….

“I have been astonished that men could die martyrs for religion — I have shuddered at it. I shudder no more — I could be martyred for my religion — Love is my religion — I could die for that…” — John Keats

Okay, so it’s not a poem… but it’s from a poet, and one of the best. I like the thought too, so it will have to do for today. I’ve been stuck with a fork, I’m done…. Y’all take care out there…..

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

gigoid

Kowabunga!

gigoid

Ned Moore, aka gigoid, is a 70 year-old, (!!!… When did that happen?….), retired dilettante, who would rather read than eat, most days. His first blog, "gigoid’s folly", has been emailed out to folks he knows for about 18 years now. He still considers it his best defense against angst, and the ever-present specter of sheer insanity..... Due to rigorous curmudgeon training requirements, he has discontinued his Facebook presence, but still indulges in the occasional Twitter session... In essence, he's socialized, but, not overly sociable; all labels and stereotypes are forbidden in his presence... and he doesn't care what anyone thinks about that..... In fact, he doesn't want to talk anymore.... If you feel you MUST contact gigoid, his email address is: alphagigoid@gmail.com You can go read now.... Go on, beat it.... gigoid, the dubious

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gigoid

Exploring Consensual Reality

Tag Archives: Life

Old~new dogs~tricks…..

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