Kindly observe all pertinent regulations; screw the rest…

Ffolkes,

“BELA LUGOSI is my co-pilot...”

~~ Zippy the Pinhead
~~

cliffs of moher

The Cliffs of Moher, County Clare, Ireland

Picture stolen from an email advertisement


Good morning, let us hope…. As promised, or, at least, suggested on Friday, today we return to something approaching normalcy, as nearly as we ever do…. By that we really mean, we have a complete Pearl for your morning psychic yoga, which may, as it sounds, indeed, have the ‘look and feel’ of actual mental exercise, but, in reality more closely resembles tendencies toward self-flagellation, of the milder, less pornographic sort, naturally.

I’ll also promise, with the usual caveat, to try to find a mode of first-person expression, and stick to it; it is, I know, confusing when we slip into the royal “we”…. But, it’s so much more fun with company!….

Routine is good, it seems, as long as it isn’t worn as a strait-jacket. Especially after a solid 5.5 hours of sleep, all actually in a row…. amazing. Any who, it’s good to be back, but, we have a long row to hoe, so, let’s grab a long-handled, freshly sharpened gardening tool of our choice, and be on our way to the oyster beds…. Quick, before Murphy is fully awake…

Shall we Pearl?

“He who reigns within himself, and rules passions, desires and fears, is more than a king.” — Milton

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royalty-free-clip-art-vector-logos-of-black-and-orange-floral-acoustic-guitars-by-seamartini-graphics-6573

    Suffering only minor blockage, today’s video selection is actually an audio selection; the process used to choose involved some negotiation, some compromise, and only a couple decisions where the use of dice was necessary to resolve the conflicting issues. In the end, naturally, the choice settled on the default, classical category. Here, then, for your morning listening pleasure, are the Brandenburg Concertos, No.s 1 through 6, by J.S. Bach…. The story of his creation of the concertos is an interesting tale; you should Google it sometime…. Enjoy!….

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Johann Sebastian Bach

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A-laughing-girl-and-her-camel

    I’m probably just using denial, but, there doesn’t seem to be enough stored-up angst inside my gut to fuel a proper rant… I know, let’s go this route…. Here’s a bit of a shake to the Tree of Reality…. I’ve related in the past about how our old friend Winnie the Pooh has a very, very dark side to his small yet ursine nature…. Brain, or no brain, he’s a dog…. If you need some proof, I offer the following statements in his own words, as collected by some of his admiring hacker friends, conveniently collected into one source…. You will see that our little Bear of Little Brain is not exactly what y’all thought him to be….

— Bother! said Pooh, as he sashayed into a Gay bar.

— Bother! said Pooh, after he spoke the Lord’s name backward.

— Bother! said Pooh, and lit another joint.

— Bother! said Pooh, and robbed Tigger at gunpoint..

— Bother! said Pooh, and shot Owl with his .357..

— Bother! said Pooh, and smacked Piglet for not paying up..

— Bother! said Pooh, as Christopher Robin pleaded to be spanked again.

— Bother! said Pooh, as he beat the bound and helpless victim.

— Bother! said Pooh, as he carved Eeyore’s name in the black candle.

Winnie the Borg

Image stolen from Facebook, long ago and far away


Gee, he’s not the little bear y’all thought he was, is he? He’s gotten himself into some nasty shit, eh?…. Oh, well, onward, with fewer illusions about Reality…. in a manner of speaking….

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Comedy_Tragedy

    I’m tired, even though fairly well rested; a natural enough result, probably, considering the past 48 hours. This, of course, brings out my lazy side…. There are probably more than a few who might snicker, and mutter something about “every side”, but, we’re not going to listen to them, even if we slipped a bit on our vow to remain in singular mode…. Before this deteriorates even further into sheer nonsense, thus demanding free verse, let’s do this…. I’ll stick with “I”, and use one of my own poems…. It may not be the most palatable solution, but, it does keep us moving along….

Accentuated Lessons

Bold statements of calculated intent
Become common rule of the malcontent.
Avarice assumes such attractive wear
Beguiling deception, illusory and fair.

Grasping and pulling with ghostly hands
Legally proper in all the signatory lands.
Seeking and finding each vulnerable soul
Anguish as payment for exacting the toll.

Wraiths of commerce’s invisible dead guards
Still haunt the dreams left in sad empty yards.
While absentee nobles sit in stiffly elegant splendor
Served by sad-faced detainees in abject surrender.

Escape from reality is illusory at best
Often we falter and fail its daily test.
Only when focused on inner strength
Does peace stay with us for any length.

Peace lies within, always…..

~~ gigoid ~~


Written 9/27/2012.

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ankh

    SB decided to play with me this morning, waiting until the last section to turn stubborn, & hold back anything worth using…. I tricked it into supplying me with just enough pearls for a standard run of comments on Life at Large, and learning to do it right…. I won’t go into the definition of “right” this time, which will save us all a bit of time…. Just use your own definition, & it will work fine….

“When a man has pity on all living creatures then only is he noble.” — Buddha

“Courage can’t see around corners, but goes around them anyway.” — Mignon McLaughlin (The Neurotic’s Notebook)

“The price of anything is the amount of life you exchange for it.” — Henry David Thoreau

“It takes courage to grow up and turn out to be who you really are.” — ee cummings

“Experience is not what happens to you, it is what you do with what happens to you.” — Aldous Huxley

“Deem not life a thing of consequence. For look at the yawning void of the future, and at that other limitless space, the past.” — Marcus Aurelius Antoninus — Meditations, iv, 50

“Dignity does not consist in possessing honors, but in deserving them.” — Aristotle

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Whew! That was tougher than I thought it would be…. It’s done, though…. We definitely know what to do with a Pearl that’s done, don’t we? Well, yes, we do…. and, we’d best do it quickly, before we get PERMANENTLY stuck in the royal WE…. See y’all tomorrow, ffolkes, if I can remember who we are….

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

When I works, I works hard.
When I sits, I sits loose.
When I thinks, I falls asleep.

Which is Why….

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

gigoid, the dubious

The *only* duly authorized Computer Curmudgeon.

PLEASE STOP READING THIS MESSAGE NOW.

“SCRAM!!!!!!!!!!”- Oscar the Grouch

dozer3


À bientôt, mon cherí….


					

Wing nuts fried in color-fast bleach…

Ffolkes,
I surrender….. My email wins, or rather the WP email ‘bots win. I got busy yesterday running errands for real life, and couldn’t get to all the email that came in. So, I figured I’d get up early and knock it down this morning, from the 150 that I left in there last night when I crashed. This morning there are 268 in my Inbox….. and by the time I finish this Pearl, that will no doubt grow to an even 300…..

I can’t keep up. There are at least two bloggers that are publishing about 30 times a day each, one with pictures I have no interest in seeing (in addition, he will often post the same article or pictures four or five times in a row, within minutes of each other), and one with re-blogs of just about every blog they visit. Then at least one a day from the over 140 blogs I follow….. I’m dead…. I’ll never get caught up, unless I get ruthless and just delete all the ones I have now, without reading any, to get caught up.

SIGH…. a dilemma, and the only other way to cut back the emails is to Unfollow a bunch of folks. I don’t want to have to do that, for several reasons, one of which is that I’m a softy, and don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings if I can help it…..

I’m sure others have this problem, too; how do you deal with it? Is there a way to turn off the email notifications without unfollowing a blog? I’d ask WP but it seems to take forever to get a response, if they answer at all, so I’m asking y’all first; if you have any suggestions, please feel free to leave them in the comments, and thanks in advance for anything you can tell me….

Housekeeping out of the way, we can now get down to the whole point of this getting up early….. a Pearl….. shall we, then, go Pearling? Let’s do…..
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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 W. Longfellow (1807-1882) — The Day is done

Apparently, what has stolen away is my Muse…. pearls seem to be hiding from me, inspiration is AWOL, and she’s nowhere to be found. I am almost tempted to fall back into the Assassin’s story from yesterday, just to get things moving. I hate to set a precedent like that, though, they can become habits too quickly. Now if only Longfellow’s poem would come true, and my cares were all to fade away, maybe they would find the Muse and send her home…. it may be the only hope I have….

“You know that feeling when you’re leaning back on a stool and it starts to tip over? Well, that’s how I feel all the time.” — Steven Wright

Well, maybe not all the time, but right now for sure…. the search for a suitable pearl goes on…..

Baby! Baby! oo-ah oo-ah! Baby! Baby! oo-ah oo-ah! — Not Smart Bee, I hope….

Okay, that’s it… all this time and effort, and THIS is what I can find…. more than just pathetic, it is beginning to look like conspiracy….. and the only thing to do in that case is to go back to bed…. I’ll see you in a while….. Sometimes, one has to retreat in order to have any chance to win….. Patience, I’ll be back (Ouch, sorry…. didn’t mean to inflict any Arnie on y’all….)   Hang in there…..
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I met a traveler from an antique land
Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert.  Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read.
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed;
And on the pedestal these words appear:
“My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair!”
Nothing beside remains.    Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare,
The lone and level sands stretch far away.
— Percy Bysshe Shelley (1792-1822), “Ozymandias” (1819)

Apparently, going back to bed for a couple of hours helped…. can’t yet say if my Muse has shown up, but within moments of resuming my search, the above showed up. Even without the lesson this poem teaches (of humility before the sands of Time) its sheer beauty is enough to have it grace this page. I am encouraged, and we shall now resume the search for more pearls with a lighter heart…..
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“Say what you will about the sweet miracle of unquestioning faith, I consider a capacity for it terrifying and absolutely vile!” — Kurt Vonnegut, Jr.

Here is a subject upon which I’ll bet I can rant without any warm-up, mostly because I happen to agree with the sentiment completely. I find this quality in a human being to be incomprehensible, as well as scary, and often wonder how such folks live to the age they have achieved, considering their lack of survival skills. Mother Nature is usually not kind to those who would ignore her rules and regulations, (and she doesn’t care why….) choosing instead to live with their heads cocooned in cotton; for most of history such folks as can do this were summarily executed by the Universe at large, a sentence generally carried out in short order when proof of their stupidity arose. “Oh, look! It’s one of those pretty sabertooth kittens…. how cute! Here, kitty, kitty…..”  Or some similar event; you get the picture, I’m sure….

“What a fool cannot learn he laughs at, thinking that by his laughter he shows superiority instead of latent idiocy.” — M. Corelli

However, as civilization has progressed, the penalties for such actions have been downgraded, due to the advances in medicine, and cultural mores that dictate how the weaker and more vulnerable in society are helped to survive (more of that faith-based denial of natural law….). Now, instead of being summarily removed from the gene pool, these walking statues, with heads of marble, are not only kept alive, they are kept alive long enough to breed, thus increasing their numbers, and providing more candidates for the churches and institutions that rely on their numbers for new recruits, recruits who will never question what they are told…..

It is a vicious, self-sustaining cycle, which will last right up to the point of species extinction that we are rapidly approaching….. It won’t bother them much when the world ends because they will deny it right to the end, but it is going to be a scary ride for those of us who have their eyes wide open…. for sure……

“Der christliche Entschluss, die Welt h\”asslich und schlecht zu finden, hat die Walt h\”asslich und schlecht gemacht.”
(The Christian determination to find the word hideous and bad, has made the world hideous and bad.)
— Friedrich Nietzsche
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“Well, here I am in AMERICA..  I LIKE it.  I HATE it. I LIKE it.  I HATE it.  I LIKE it.  I HATE it.  I LIKE it. I HATE it.  I LIKE..  EMOTIONS are SWEEPING over me!!” — Zippy the Pinhead

I’m very close to pulling out what little hair is left on my head…. This is the best I’ve found in the last 30 minutes, and to say the least, I’m very disappointed. Though it is strange enough to tickle my whimsy, it isn’t strong enough to carry me into either a rant or a subtle discussion of hidden meaning; there isn’t any!  I’m going to have to resort to drastic measures, I guess…. I’ve never encountered such a dearth of material. Every oyster I see is pearl-free and now it looks as if the beds themselves are shifting and moving, trying to hide from me. Well, one more try…..
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The mossy marbles rest
On the lips that he has prest
In their bloom;
And the names he loved to hear
Have been carved for many a year
On the tomb.
— Oliver Wendell Holmes (1809-1894) — The Last Leaf

One may always trust poetry to save the day. Or, if not save it, at least support it long enough to get done with the day’s work. These two short tastes of beauty and grace will serve to end this fiasco for today, and carry it into tomorrow, when I trust I shall find reality to have resumed a more amenable shape, bursting with pearls, and more grist for my mill…. I only hope these do not serve as an elegy…..

So perish all, whose breast ne’er learn’d to glow
For others’ good, or melt at others’ woe.
— Alexander Pope (1688-1744) — To the Memory of an Unfortunate Lady, Line 45
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I believe today’s offering has reached a new pinnacle of weird…. I felt the whole time as if I were swimming through cotton candy or spider webs, pulling at me, sticking to my legs and arms, and keeping me from getting anywhere. I will need to think about this today, it has been a severe struggle; I’m already exhausted, it isn’t 9 AM yet, and I have a lot more to do today. (Without even thinking about the 300 emails awaiting my reluctant attention…..

Well, so be it…. pissing and moaning about it isn’t going to get anything done, so I’ll leave it at that…… Here is hoping that your day goes better than mine has begun. I plan to go hence and try to persuade things to move along more in my chosen direction, so, we’ll see…. As long as I can avoid any further attention from Murphy, I should be okay…… 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!

Betwixt perilous ideological sideboards….

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

gigoid

Kowabunga!

Cliches and platitudes and axioms, oh my!

Ffolkes,
Having put in my time as a parent, I am accustomed to having no days off. I’m also accustomed to having Murphy practically living in my pocket, so that even with a day off, important stuff explodes in my face to take the off-day away. But, being retired, I have a new power; the power of the schedule. I am only responsible to myself, and can schedule whatever I want to do whenever I want to do it. This is no picayune power, as anyone who is retired can tell you. It is an amazing feeling, actually, being accountable only to one’s self for getting things done, and knowing that if I wish it, I can put things off pretty much as long as I want, as long as it doesn’t involve other folks. Or, conversely, I can do things right away, instead of waiting because something else needs done. It’s up to me, and that is a heady glass of wine…..So…..the purpose behind all this verbiage is to gently lead you into this announcement: I’m taking today off, sort of. I’m not writing anything here, nor after. This is all you get. Deal with it. Enjoy the Pearls…….

“It is necessary for the welfare of society that genius should be privileged to utter sedition, to blaspheme, to outrage good taste, to corrupt the youthful mind, and generally to scandalize one’s uncles.” — George Bernard Shaw

“Americans like to talk about (or be told about) Democracy but, when put to the test, usually find it to be an ‘inconvenience.’ We have opted instead for an authoritarian system *disguised* as a Democracy.  We pay through the nose for an enormous joke-of-a-government, let it push us around, and then wonder how all those assholes got in there.” —   Frank Zappa

A Headline in on a magazine at the supermarket read. “How to become an optimist in two weeks.  It was only after a moment that I realized that in response, I had muttered, “I don’t know.  That sounds pretty optimistic to me.”
(unknown, but it could have been me. Too bad I’m too honest to call it my own, but it just popped up without attribution.)

Ring out, ring out my mournful rhymes,
But ring the fuller minstrel in!
— Alfred Tennyson (1809-1892)
— In Memoriam, cv, Stanza 5

“There are several good protections against temptation, but the surest is cowardice.” — Mark Twain

“I would rather my ignorance be based on my understanding than for my understanding to be based on my ignorance. I would rather be a humorous fool than a serious jackass.” — Dan Millman “Way of the Peaceful Warrior”

I’m off to see the Lizard, the wonderful Lizard of Odd…..y’all take care out there…..


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

gigoid

Dozer

Kowabunga!