Tag Archives: Murphy’s Law

She left the argyle socks again….

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14

Ffolkes,
The difficulty I face today in creating this introductory section is to be able to choose from among the available subjects. The last couple of days has provided me with a plethora of material, thanks to the usual suspects; politics, taxes, corporate greed, and Murphy’s ubiquitous presence. Suffice it to say that the world has once again taken a dump on me, financially, and my immediate prospects of any travel to other parts of the world have disappeared from sight. Hell, with the way things have been left, I can’t afford to go downtown, much less overseas…. I’ll be lucky to have more than rice to eat the last week of this month, so Ireland is out of the picture, for the time-being….

Of course, the corporate mavens will say it’s my own fault, for not being able to pay what they are insisting I owe them. It matters not at all to them that I have already paid them more than originally agreed to on purchase, or that I no longer even have the item for which they want me to pay (it long ago having died from built-in obsolescence…).

All they care about is that they have a piece of paper that gives them the legal right to dun me for money they don’t deserve, or need. Though corporations have all the legal rights of individuals under our legal system, they have NONE of the actual human characteristics common to an individual; no compassion, no judgment, no flexibility, just adherence to law…..

Ah well, trying to get them to show any human characteristics is a futile pastime, so I don’t. They don’t much like when I ignore them, but I see no sense in telling them, once again, that I cannot pay them, no matter how much they threaten to ruin my now non-existent credit. Ruining my credit isn’t going to make it any easier to pay them, but that’s another of those things they don’t care about, so there isn’t any point in discussing it with them.

Plus, not talking to them is the only way I have to annoy them at all, and I’m not giving up that small power for anything…. they can simmer in their own juices….

So, having thus furnished me with a short rant to begin the day, we will nod them our minimal thanks, and get on with the show…. shall we Pearl?….
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“To confess a fault freely is the next thing to being innocent of it.” — Publius Syrus

“Danger, danger, Will Robinson!”  Take heed!  The above statement has been around for a long time, obviously. And it is as dangerous a concept today as it was back when ol’ Publius mouthed this particular lie. Yes, I said lie…. this is a vicious, vindictive lie, one that I’m sure is in almost constant use in the Vatican, in Congress, and in the White House.

I’m sorry, but I cannot just let this go; the frank admission of a vice does NOT turn that vice into a virtue… Nope, it doesn’t, no matter how many times you say it, it just isn’t going to be the truth…. though, in reality, it has been said so often, and for so long, that most people accept it as such….

To my way of thinking, which is admittedly dissimilar to the average Joe’s, this is the root cause of a lot of what is wrong in society today. This idea was adopted by the Christian churches within moments of the death of Jesus Christ, seemingly, and has been the justification for war, oppression, and violence by the minions of that religion for thousands of years now. You see, they can kill, or hate, or enslave the proponents of other religions without fear of consequence, because they know that all will be forgiven, and Heaven will not deny them, if only they confess to their sins…. Nice work, if you can get it…

It has been noted before that to kill another human is against religious law…. that is, it is against that law if one man kills another. But, if many men are killed, in the name of the state, or of the church, then those who kill are rewarded as heroes. This hypocrisy has been true of every government since the beginning of society, aided and abetted by the churches, who reap the benefits of favoritism from the government (Boy, wouldn’t it be nice if WE were free from being taxed?….). If I wasn’t such an adult, with a sense of decorum and dignity, why, I’d spit right in their faces!

Which is why I do so, figuratively speaking, on such a regular basis…. believe me, if any of these corporate or religious honchos were to ever appear before me, I would be spitting as fast as I could work up the saliva…. and I wouldn’t be offering tissues, either….

Remember this ffolkes, at the next election…. just because they admit to lying, doesn’t mean the lie didn’t happen… in fact, it makes it worse, as it insults my intelligence for them to believe for a second that I would buy into that…. But, then, they don’t care how much they insult people, as long as they keep getting elected… and forgiven….
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“Our days are happier when we give people a bit of our heart rather than a piece of our mind.” — Smart Bee

I think this is obvious to the point of becoming natural law. It’s a very close insight into human nature, and I don’t know about y’all, but it sure is true for me. Today is a perfect example of this….

I feel trapped a lot of the time. Hemmed in by the very society who is supposedly there to support me in my efforts to pursue my life’s goals and aspirations. Of course, anybody over the age of 10 realizes that that support often resembles a slap to the head, but the point is that society’s purpose for existing is to aid it’s citizens in maximizing their experiences for their benefit.

I mean, that is what its purpose is MEANT to be; I don’t think it would be very beneficial if this isn’t the case. Society is supposed to work in such a way that all of its members have an equal chance to succeed in whatever they undertake in life… that is its ostensible reason for existing at all….

In reality, it doesn’t work that way, for the simple reason that some of the folks in the game have changed the rules, simply to suit themselves, and what they want. And what they want is total control of everyone else…. They’re pretty good at it, too.

For close to 10,000 years now, the beloved ruling class has set things up in our culture to favor themselves. They have lied, cheated, stolen, killed, repressed, oppressed, and generally acted in a manner that the rest of humanity considers immoral, unethical, and inhuman, at the core. They have done this right in front of our eyes. The rules and laws that are agreed to by all were written to favor those in power, not those who serve.

Though every church shouts out how moral and ethical it is, and spouts off about the virtue of faith and obedience, they do so not from spiritual surety, but from avarice and ambition. Though every government claims to have the welfare of the people as its purported goal, the only people who gain are those who are already wealthy. The rest get welfare alright, but not the kind they should be able to expect….

And that is why it pisses me off so badly…. as humans, all we really want to do is be happy. It isn’t so much to ask. Most folks are happy when they have enough to eat, a place to sleep, and someone they love to be around. It soothes our nature to be able to share such feelings, hence the accuracy of the quote from Smart Bee above. We just feel better when we can share good feelings with others…. But, we are constantly blocked from doing so, by the society we live in.

In today’s culture, we are put in a situation where it takes all of our time and effort just to obtain the things we need; food, shelter, clothing. Gathering enough resources to ensure an ample supply of all three takes more than one person can make, thanks to the economic picture in a world where 1% of the population controls 99% of the money and resources.

Unless one throws aside all of one’s humanity, becoming one of the ruthless ones, indifferent to the suffering of others, as are those who inhabit the 1%, making enough to get by in today’s society just isn’t possible… I know, I’ve spent the last 50 years trying, and I’m a pretty talented guy….

Now, I don’t care about being rich. “If you want a life of trouble, fill your house with treasures…”, a Chinese proverb so old I don’t know who said it. But, I’ve believed it all my life, and worked only to get enough to live comfortably, and to provide stability and opportunities to succeed for my family. I’ve never given in to the urge to take advantage of others, or to cheat, or steal, or lie in order to get ahead; if I didn’t get ahead on merit, I stayed where I was.

It didn’t seem to matter much, anyway. The system is set up so that, at each step up the ladder of financial gain, the rules become more complicated, and are still set up to deny advancement. (I.E., as you make more money, they take more taxes…. In order to borrow money, you must already have money…. etc…)

Lately, the government has been less creative in their lies as to why they are taking money from the average Joe…. for all three of the last raises I got when working, the money was taken away by furloughs, reducing my hours. Each time I expected to make a bit more, they would take away another day’s work, thus eliminating the advancement in pay…. The justification was that state employees made too much anyway, and taking away their money was going to balance the budget… funny how that didn’t work out that way….

Being retired from working has had two effects for me, neither of which is particularly helpful…. It gives me way too much time to be able to look at reality, and find the flaws and kinks that are causing all the friction and conflict in the world. Unfortunately, it has also made the task of obtaining the three necessary items for survival more difficult, by reducing my income drastically, to the poverty line, and at the same time, making it more physically difficult to accomplish what I need to do. SIGH…. Murphy is such an ASSHOLE!

Okay, I’m done. I could go on most of the day, but it’s starting to sound whiny to me. I’m not a victim. I will be alright, eventually. I will be more than alright. But, it pisses me off royally that I can’t spend more time sharing my heart with others, rather than sharing my thoughts….

My heart is much more fun to be around, mostly…. at least I’d like to think so. Now, if I can only get it to climb out of the hole of depression it has crawled into so much lately, perhaps I can find a way to cheer it up…. as long as Murphy will give me a breather now and again….
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“A lawyer and a pope died on the same day, and both went to heaven. When the pope noticed that the lawyer had a larger mansion, he questioned Saint Peter about the allocation of rewards.  The  justification was “Well, we’ve had 265 popes up here, but this is the FIRST lawyer!” — Smart Bee

A couple of years ago, I made a poor decision, trying to help my son out of his own foolishness. I hired a lawyer for him, not knowing that the lawyer was one of those who are in the business of law for their own benefit, not that of their clients. Within four days of hiring him, I had been charged over $2500, and nothing had even been done, other than starting a file, making a five minute court appearance, where nothing was changed or reduced, and making two phone calls.

The bill I received noted that the charge for the two phone calls was for $68.75 EACH! (15 minutes of time at $275/hour). The charge for the five minute court appearance was for four hours at that rate. With the $1200 he charged me just for accepting the case, he had, in less than one week, charged me the equivalent of an entire month’s pay, at the rate I was then making.

I was astounded, and said so in a letter firing him. I have been struggling ever since to get that paid, and will sometimes offer my feelings about it when I send them a check. The secretary recently had the nerve to suggest to me that I shouldn’t include jokes about lawyers going to Hell if I was asking for patience…. Again, I was astounded, but managed to not bite her (it is fortunate her office is in another town, and my ability to get there is hampered…), but simply commented that the joke was about how I felt, not about the lawyer…. which was perfectly true…. Here is what I sent….

A lawyer shows up at the pearly gates. St. Peter says, “Normally we don’t let you people in here but you’re in luck, we have a special this week. You go to hell for the length of time you were alive, then you get to come back up here for eternity.” The lawyer says, “I’ll take the deal.” St. Peter says, “Good, I’ll put you down for 212 years in hell …” The lawyer says, “What are you talking about? I’m 65 years old!”  St. Peter says, “Up here we go by billing hours.” — Orson Bean

Now, I ask you, is that cruel? Of course not, it’s merely accurate. It certainly shows as much consideration for the lawyer’s feelings as he showed for mine. And, hey, this is MY blog, isn’t it? Why, yes, I do believe it is, and I believe that I’ll just keep on humiliating lawyers of his ilk whenever I feel like it…. so there….
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Ah, it always feels good to get out those particular nasty feelings and thoughts. Of course, after such a piece, I must needs spend the next few minutes thoroughly washing up, as it tends to get all over when I spew like that….. Bloody assholes…. Any who, it’s been nothing if not real today…. hopefully I haven’t pulled anyone into my nightmare. I’ll say this, though… I feel better for having vented, and I’ll settle for that…. 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!

Pale signs of obligatory horses….

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Ffolkes,
Far be it from me to fuss with a system that works…. For close to 11 months now, I’ve posted here every day, sometimes twice a day. Though the introduction is often strange, it has always been the most normal aspect of the entire process, as it is always done first, before I begin the search for pearls, and it provides the impetus for completing the rest.

I can’t say why it happened that way, but evolution is often more complex than we can see from our limited perspective. However it came about, it has always been the anchor post for the rest of the Pearl, pointing out the path we will be taking, or, at the very least, warming up the arthritic old fingers….

Introductory paragraphs also are important for setting the tone of one’s written offerings, whether humorous, serious, or somewhere in between. And, as noted here previously, the opening words of any tome are the most important words in the piece. The beginning must grab the reader’s attention with a fist of iron, and refuse to let go, or one takes the chance of losing them a few pages later, which rather eliminates the whole reason for being there….

Thus, I try to make the intro section special in some way…. sometimes it is a story opening; other times a litany of complaints. Often I’ll discuss personal ennui, or comment on some outrageous thought I’ve had, or some silly news story. Occasionally, like today, I will bore you to tears discussing the process of creating Pearls, which, though interesting enough to me, probably is putting you back to sleep as I type…. not good….

So, we’ll jump off this wagon, and dive into the water to search for some appropriate pearls…. about damn time, I’d say….
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To make a long story short:  Once upon a time….It was a dark and stormy night……..and they lived happily ever after. — Smart Bee

And I oft have heard defended,
–Little said is soonest mended.
— George Wither (1588-1667) — The Shepherd’s Hunting

As he sat staring into the screen at the last two seemingly unconnected pearls, he began to laugh, slowly at first, then rising in pitch and volume until the walls rang with the maniacal cacophony. “Madness!”, he thinks, “madness is here, and owns my wretched soul!” Caught in the maelstrom of his own inner conflict, he felt as if he were a drift of snow, blowing away in the howling winds, scattering to all parts of creation, never to be connected, or whole, again….

Yet, even more terrifyingly, Murphy’s henchman, the unthinkable terror of dissolution, holds him prisoner here, refusing to yield the pleasure of devouring every last bit of agony that can be dragged screaming from his beleaguered existence, keeping him anchored to the endless Now, with fear and loathing. Tears flow freely, long undefended by social convention, tears of grief for the lost possibilities, and tears of sadness for the loss of the years gone past.

Yet all things must pass….Remembering at last that the existence of pain is only confirmed by an equal amount of joy, the scale tips, and the duality of reality severs the hold of entropy on his emotions. The clouds disperse, as Murphy, well-pleased, slips laughing into the remaining mists….. Shattered and bloody, he sits, and thinks….

There you go…. long story short….

As long as we’re going insane, we might as well go the whole way. A mere shred of sanity is of no value. — Smart Bee

“Insanity destroys reason, but not wit.” — Nathaniel Emmons

I believe the word you’re looking for is ‘AAAUUGHHH’.
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One of the greatest joys of my life is finding new stuff to read, and learn; here is a poem by someone I’ve never heard of before, in a wonderful modern style, and obviously from a very down home American standpoint, pre-idiocy period…. enjoy!

Knee-Deep in June

Tell you what I like the best —
‘Long about knee-deep in June,
‘Bout the time strawberries melts
On the vine, — some afternoon
Like to jes’ git out and rest,
And not work at nothin’ else!

Orchard’s where I’d ruther be —
Needn’t fence it in fer me! —
Jes’ the whole sky overhead,
And the whole airth underneath —
Sort o’ so’s a man kin breathe
Like he ort, and kind o’ has
Elbow-room to keerlessly
Sprawl out len’thways on the grass
Where the shadders thick and soft
As the kivvers on the bed
Mother fixes in the loft
Allus, when they’s company!

Jes’ a-sort o’ lazin there –
S’lazy, ‘at you peek and peer
Through the wavin’ leaves above,
Like a feller ‘ats in love
And don’t know it, ner don’t keer!
Ever’thing you hear and see
Got some sort o’ interest –
Maybe find a bluebird’s nest
Tucked up there conveenently
Fer the boy ‘at’s ap’ to be
Up some other apple tree!
Watch the swallers skootin’ past
Bout as peert as you could ast;
Er the Bob-white raise and whiz
Where some other’s whistle is.

Ketch a shadder down below,
And look up to find the crow —
Er a hawk, – away up there,
‘Pearantly froze in the air! —
Hear the old hen squawk, and squat
Over ever’ chick she’s got,
Suddent-like! – and she knows where
That-air hawk is, well as you! —
You jes’ bet yer life she do! —
Eyes a-glitterin’ like glass,
Waitin’ till he makes a pass!

Pee-wees wingin’, to express
My opinion, ‘s second-class,
Yit you’ll hear ’em more er less;
Sapsucks gittin’ down to biz,
Weedin’ out the lonesomeness;
Mr. Bluejay, full o’ sass,
In them baseball clothes o’ his,
Sportin’ round the orchad jes’
Like he owned the premises!
Sun out in the fields kin sizz,
But flat on yer back, I guess,
In the shade’s where glory is!
That’s jes’ what I’d like to do
Stiddy fer a year er two!

Plague! Ef they ain’t somepin’ in
Work ‘at kind o’ goes ag’in’
My convictions! – ‘long about
Here in June especially! —
Under some ole apple tree,
Jes’ a-restin through and through,
I could git along without
Nothin’ else at all to do
Only jes’ a-wishin’ you
Wuz a-gittin’ there like me,
And June wuz eternity!

Lay out there and try to see
Jes’ how lazy you kin be! —
Tumble round and souse yer head
In the clover-bloom, er pull
Yer straw hat acrost yer eyes
And peek through it at the skies,
Thinkin’ of old chums ‘ats dead,
Maybe, smilin’ back at you
In betwixt the beautiful
Clouds o’gold and white and blue! —
Month a man kin railly love —
June, you know, I’m talkin’ of!

March ain’t never nothin’ new! —
April’s altogether too
Brash fer me! and May — I jes’
‘Bominate its promises, —
Little hints o’ sunshine and
Green around the timber-land —
A few blossoms, and a few
Chip-birds, and a sprout er two, —
Drap asleep, and it turns in
Fore daylight and snows ag’in! —
But when June comes – Clear my th’oat
With wild honey! — Rench my hair
In the dew! And hold my coat!
Whoop out loud! And th’ow my hat! —
June wants me, and I’m to spare!
Spread them shadders anywhere,
I’ll get down and waller there,
And obleeged to you at that!

James Whitcomb Riley
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Christ says, “Give me All. I don’t want so much of your time and so much of your money and so much of your work: I want You. I have not come to torment your natural self, but to kill it. No half-measures are any good. I don’t want to cut off a branch here and a branch there, I want to have the whole tree down. Hand over the whole natural self, all the desires which you think innocent as well as the ones you think wicked – the whole outfit. I will give you a new self instead. In fact, I will give you Myself: my own will shall become yours.”  — C.S. Lewis  _ Mere Christianity_

I cannot think of anything more terrifying than this concept! The thought of giving up one’s entire Self in order to be someone else, ANYONE else, gives me the serious willies, to use the vernacular expression for abject loathing. It doesn’t matter if the other Self one proposes that I assume is purportedly “better” than my current Self, or rather, it shouldn’t matter, and to me it doesn’t. To make the assumption that I’d be better off as Christ demeans me, and if one is actually a believer in a God, then that demeans God. Either way, I’m not copping to it without some protest….

I’ve spent a lot of years on this planet, trying to make myself into the kind of person I’d be proud to know. I can’t say that I’m perfect, by any means…. we’ve all made mistakes. If one hasn’t made any mistakes, then one hasn’t really been living. But I am also not entirely unhappy with myself the way I am, and I can’t see any logical, or even any illogical, but justifiable, reason to want to become someone else, even Christ. Besides, if I become him, who does He become? Me? Whoa, there, big fella, that doesn’t seem like a fair trade…. I lose out on my laptop, and I hate wearing sandals!

Generally, C.S. Lewis makes fairly lucid sense in his writings about Christianity and his faith, which was strong, by all evidence. But this concept is, to me, part of the explicit danger of faith without evidence. That danger lies in this surrendering of will, to what is construed as a superior power. It has never made ANY sense to me; even as a child the idea made me uneasy (I forget who said “Any religion whose basic concepts frighten the mind of a child cannot be true…”, but he was right…). Giving up free will not only turns a person into a sheep, it also provides the rationalization for much of the absence in modern society of virtues such as honesty, or compassion for others, since any acts made by a saved sinner are forgiven, as long as he/she has signed on the dotted line, and confessed….

I am perfectly aware of how virtuous Jesus himself was, at least according to the written reports. His actions toward his fellow men were compassionate and open, given the constraints he placed on himself to try to give his knowledge away with honor, and in a way it would be remembered by a species that is mostly afraid to think.

Yet even this most puissant human being, truly an enlightened soul, has had what he taught twisted and perverted to suit the purposes of the dishonest, indifferent human predators who took immediate control of the organization he started, using those teachings to manipulate the less perceptive into a governable herd….

The perversion has continued to the present day, and in fact has evolved, as any human institution will, into even more viciously bigoted, elitist sects, each of which is convinced it is the true path to salvation. And each one of them, from the mighty Holy Roman Catholic Church to the Western Baptist Fundamentalist Church, depends on people buying into the mind-set described above by Mr. Lewis, surrendering all their free will to the “will of God”, thereby placing their feet on that road of good intentions….
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I’m guessing here, but I think it’s probably a good thing I never know when a rant will strike…. it seems to come out unexpectedly every time. Ah well, probably a defense mechanism set up in my unconscious to prevent any pre-censorship…. so be it. I’m happy with how it came out, so we’ll all have to live with it, such as it is…. Like Philip K. Dick said, “Reality is that which, when you stop believing in it, doesn’t go away.”

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!

New styles of designer cheese….

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4

Ffolkes,
On most mornings, I can bring the power of the Metaphorse into play for the opening paragraphs of this missive. Phantasmagoria flow from my mind onto the screen, swirling and shifting into the shapes that will fascinate and entice. Odd connections and teasing concepts flutter around the reader’s head, pushing and pulling toward the edge of what is real. The very face of Reality can assume secondary and tertiary roles in passion plays of great import, and all hope of sanity retreats…..

Then, other mornings, such as this one, even the power of speech eludes me; the power of the Metaphorse is well out of reach. At this point, I’m amazed that I am able to type at all. It’s nothing untoward, I’m sure, just a lack of sugar complicating the start- and warm-up process. I should be fine after the second cup of coffee…. But it sure is inefficient, and nothing drives me crazier than inefficiency. Which is probably why Murphy likes to mess with me so much…. I’m an easy target….

Ah well, I should know by now that no matter how I feel upon arising, the lad will have preceded me and set up some fine, witty way to mess with my head within a few moments. It’s almost comforting…. Since ’tis the way of things, and there is nothing at all to do about it, I’m going to do what I probably should do more, which is try to ignore it. Maybe if I don’t give him so much attention, he’ll find some other bozo to go bother…. but, if not, at least I’ll have found a pearl or two by that time…. and I’ll settle for that….. Shall we Pearl?….
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A human being should be able to change a diaper, plan an invasion, butcher a hog, conn a ship, design a building, write a sonnet, balance accounts, build a wall, set a bone, comfort the dying, take orders, give orders, cooperate, act alone, solve equations, analyze a new problem, pitch manure, program a computer, cook a tasty meal, fight efficiently, die gallantly. Specialization is for insects.” — Lazarus Long

This statement has always appealed to me, as it is a fine description of what kind of person I’ve always wanted to be. Everything I see, or perceive, is of interest to me; it’s all grist for the mill. I’ve never understood how boredom can be a problem, for there is always something new to be learned, even in the most mundane circumstances. I’ve always felt that to be bored means that one is tired of what is going on inside one’s own mind. That is not something to which I will admit, and since I believe it to be a matter of choice, I will always choose to learn something, rather than submit to feeling bored….

It doesn’t make any sense to me to limit what we can do, or see, or feel, or perceive, just because it presents a risk. Risk is involved in the act of breathing; life is risk of death, at the core, so there is no point, to me, in trying to avoid whatever life will throw at us, because it will do so no matter how we feel about it. Over that we have no control…. the only control we have is over ourselves.

We can shut our eyes and minds, and try to ignore whatever reality presents; it’s not usually a good idea, but it seems to be the favorite reaction by a lot of folks. Or, we can open our minds, hearts, and emotions, and jump right into what life brings, using it to increase our ability to understand and cope,  gaining the sense of accomplishment, and the pride of achievement that comes with learning something new….

Me?…. I’m no insect, and don’t intend to shut myself off from whatever life has for me to learn…. it’s way more fun than the alternative, for sure and for certain…. and I’m never bored….

All nature is but art, unknown to thee;
All chance, direction, which thou canst not see;
All discord, harmony not understood;
All partial evil, universal good;
And spite of pride, in erring reason’s spite,
One truth is clear, Whatever is, is right.
— Alexander Pope (1688-1744) — Essay on Man, Epistle i, Line 289
___________________________________    ‘Nuff said…. ‘cept, found on Facebook; my friend Patrick at work again…
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In the worlds before monkey, primal chaos reigned.   Heaven sought order, but the Phoenix can fly only when its feathers are grown.  The four lands formed again and yet again, as endless eons wheeled and passed.  The wind, time and water (??) all worked upon a certain rock, old as creation, and it became magically fertile.  That first egg was called ‘thought.’  Tagahata (??) Buddah, the Father Buddah says, ‘with our thoughts, we make the world.’  Elemental forces caused the egg to hatch.  From it came a stone monkey.  The nature of monkey was IRREPRESSIBLE! — Smart Bee

This delightfully cheerful piece of rogue philosophy sounds as if it were written as an entry in a contest to write the silliest, yet most plausible creation myth imaginable. It bears a certain resemblance to certain aboriginal and Eastern religious philosophies, even using a perverted spelling of Buddha to imply, and absorb, some of that philosophy’s carte grise. The last line is particularly apt to me, as well as a nod to modern culture… you could say it’s fabulous, and would be right to say so….

The question marks are not mine; they were included in the quote, so I know not whether they are editor’s notes, or merely hints from the unknown author. All in all, I’d say that, as creation myths go, it is at least as plausible as several of the rather incredulous tales currently held as truth by different sects of different religions around the world…..

“The first egg was called ‘thought'” Exquisite imagery…. as a metaphor for the power of possibility that is the nature of an egg, this is perfect. The power of thought thus creates the world, and monkey is born…. he sits down to type, irrepressible, and Shakespeare was foisted upon the world for all to suffer…. SIGH….

If only the monkeys had, in all that time to type, managed to come up with some Neil Simon, or even Tennessee Williams, then maybe this would be a different world, and nobody would have to pretend they understood what the hell Will was talking about…. Think how many brain cells could have been saved had we not had to sit through endless variations of his themes, like West Side Story, and others of that ilk….. ghastly….
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Hmm… interesting stuff. As usual, hard to say where it came from, or where it’s meant to go, but, there it sits, just like a bowl of fruit, waiting for someone to reach in and grab a bite of sweet…. though I doubt the fruit in my bowl quite fits that description. Nonetheless, there it sits, so I can get on with the rest of today, and so can you…. 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!

Dignity is not guaranteed by law nor custom….

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3

Ffolkes,
Serendipity is perhaps my favorite word in English, as it is only applicable when something good happens. If one stops to consider, it is exactly the opposite concept of Murphy’s Law, and balances the work done by that most unwelcome of visitors, showing us the nuggets of gold hidden in the pile of crap that Murphy often leaves us with. As a bonus, the appearance of Serendipity always comes as a surprise, by definition….

So, you may ask, what prompted that? A moment of fright, as it turns out…. When I sat down to begin this morning, the following is the first thing that showed up in my quote database….

“Hi there!  This is just a note from me, to you, to tell you, the person  reading this note, that I can’t think up any more famous quotes, jokes, nor bizarre stories, so you may as well go home.” — Smart Bee

Well! A bit scary, for me, since quotes, jokes, and bizarre stories are the meat and bones of this blog, and not having any more would put a serious curse on my ability to write. It only took me a moment to realize that Smart Bee was kidding, but it was a moment spent in panic, for sure…. I’m convinced that Murphy is the one who placed it there for me to find right away, but Serendipity saved my ass again, by popping up into my awareness just when I was starting to pull out what’s left of my hair….

So, armed with the love of Serendipity, we will now Pearl….. Secure your masks and breathing apparatus, and let’s dive in…..
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In lazy apathy let stoics boast
Their virtue fix’d: ‘t is fix’d as in a frost;
Contracted all, retiring to the breast;
But strength of mind is exercise, not rest.
— Alexander Pope (1688-1744) — Essay on Man, Epistle ii, Line 101

Once again, a poem makes a point that, if written in prose, would tend to put the reader to sleep. In modern society, strength of mind is a virtue that has fallen out of favor. Moreover, it is so out of favor that it isn’t even missed; the general population has no idea what true virtue consists of anymore, for the most part. In fact, the major forms of entertainment…. TV, movies, music, sports, religions… all are designed to keep people from using their minds, encouraging sloth, and never, ever challenging the citizen to think beyond how to obtain the next beer….

This tendency is not merely encouraged by the beloved ruling class, it is one of their primary functions to keep the citizenry from ever becoming educated enough to see what they are up to. Cuts to education are a part of every politician’s budget proposals, from both ends of the political scale…. Democrats, Republicans, they all know that an educated populace is much harder to manipulate, and much harder to fool, so they are constantly limiting the ability of the education process to function at a level that would make any difference. The worst nightmare of a man like Mitt Romney is a voter with the facts….

I’m going to limit this rant somewhat today…. This is a subject on which I can spew for a long time, without really trying very hard, but I’m having a lot of pain this morning, so sitting is hard. But, the point is made, I think…. Use your heads, for goodness sake…. don’t let the powers that be have it ALL their way.

Get the facts, and throw them up in their faces… if they are going to manipulate us, at least make them work for it…. Besides, exercising your mind may have other effects you were not aware of, effects that can have a profound influence on your life…. Like being able to make an informed choice, instead of settling for the apparent lesser of two evils…. which, if you will remember, still leaves you with an evil choice, lesser thought it may be…..

“Things true and evident must of necessity be recognized by those who would contradict them.” — Epictetus (c. 60 AD) — Concerning the Epicureans, — Discourses, Book ii, Chap. xx
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BIBLE:  A bible is a book which one or more religions consider to be holy, and to be something that they should follow. It is, of course, generally rather impractical to follow books, not just because they don’t often go anywhere, but also because they are not very good at public speaking, decision making, problem solving, or any of the other qualities recognized as being an advantage for leadership. A religion based around the teachings of any compilation of Toxic Custard would be very strange indeed. To subscribe to this new cult following, send $15 now. — Daniel Bowen’s TOXIC CUSTARPEDIA

“Moral certainty is always a sign of cultural inferiority. The more uncivilized the man, the surer he is that he knows precisely what is right and what is wrong. All human progress, even in morals, has been the work of men who have doubted the current moral values, not of men who have whooped them up and tried to enforce them. The truly civilized man is always skeptical and tolerant, in this field as in all others. His culture is based on “I am not too sure.”  — H.L. Mencken

“So as this only point among the rest remaineth sure and certain, namely, that nothing is certain. . .” — Pliny The Elder

Philosophy, means, first, doubt; and afterwards the consciousness of what knowledge means, the consciousness of uncertainty and of ignorance, the consciousness of limit, shade, degree, possibility. The ordinary man doubts nothing and suspects nothing.” — Henri Frederick Amiel

This is an old school pearl…. or group of pearls, I should say….. Taken alone, each of them states a good point of information, or view of reality, or way of looking at life. Taken together, they make a statement that teaches a lesson…. and in the old school style, the lesson is left as an exercise for the Gentle Reader to find…. It’s not hidden very deep, and shouldn’t afford too difficult a task to uncover…. and it is well worth considering….. Just in case it is too obscure, I give you the following, to drive you right up to the take out window, where you can pick up your pearl….

“Creation science” has not entered the curriculum for a reason so simple and so basic that we often forget to mention it: because it is false, and because good teachers understand exactly why it is false.  What could be more destructive of that most fragile yet most precious commodity in our entire intellectually heritage — good teaching — than a bill forcing honorable teachers to sully their sacred trust by granting equal treatment to a doctrine not only known to be false, but calculated to undermine any general understanding of science as an enterprise?” — Stephen Jay Gould
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TO A CHILD DANCING IN THE WIND

by: W. B. Yeats (1865-1939)

Dance there upon the shore;
What need have you to care
For wind or water’s roar?
And tumble out your hair
That the salt drops have wet;
Being young you have not known
The fool’s triumph, nor yet
Love lost as soon as won,
Nor the best labourer dead
And all the sheaves to bind.
What need have you to dread
The monstrous crying of wind?

A bit of classic to finish the morning with…. I don’t know about you, but it sure makes my day go better if I read something like this before going out to deal with reality…. It probably works to keep the blues away the same way garlic works on vampires….   🙂
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I feel like I just went through the motions this morning; it all went too smoothly to have been real. It’s been such a struggle lately that if it doesn’t fight back, I start to think something is wrong…. ah well, the hell with it. It’s going out the way 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!

Even sliced thin, it won’t fit….

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6

Ffolkes,
It probably seems unfair to blame it all on Murphy. Statistics alone says that not everything can be traced back to his malign influence on events… but you know what? Statistics can be made to lie at the slightest manipulation, and will believe whatever they’re told to believe, just as they can be made to show whatever one wishes. And it is hard to deny Murphy’s presence when his hand prints are all over the events in question…..

“There are two kinds of statistics, the kind you look up and the kind you make up.” — Rex Stout, mystery writer

Rather than go into a litany of how the interfering butt head has messed with me today, I’m going to try to sublimate my anger at him and his machinations into writing…. anything. If it takes my mind off how seriously f__ed I am due to his efforts, then it will do for my purposes. Trouble is, when I am awakened at ONE AM to deal with the crap he saddled me with, my creative senses tend to be a bit dull, and subject matter is shall we say, not jumping up, waving its hand, and yelling “Me, Me! Write about me!”  More’s the pity….

I suppose the best idea is to go diving for pearls…. the search itself can be soothing, as long as the pearls aren’t playing hide and seek with me…. ah well, everything’s a risk, isn’t it?  Shall we Pearl?…..
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“If one is master of one thing and understands one thing well, one has at the same time, insight into and understanding of many things.” — Vincent Van Gogh

Kung Fu…. The Chinese words are believed by most Westerners to refer to martial arts, and they do. The words, however, are applicable to much more than merely martial arts; they refer to the mastering of any art or skill. A master chef has, or shows, or is, kung fu when they engage in the production of beautiful delicious meals. A master painter has kung fu when he puts his paints to canvas, as does a master pianist, or violinist when they allow the music to soar. The words describe the state of excellence that is achieved by hard work over a long time; it cannot be learned in a day, or a week, or even a year. Basic skills must be learned by rote until they are habit; these build upon each other to become mastery.

Vincent Van Gogh had strong kung fu as a painter; I’ve seen the exhibit of his work that sometimes travels from its home at the Louvre in Paris. It was displayed in San Francisco in 1968 at the De Young Museum, and I was fortunate enough to be able to see it while it was there. It is difficult to describe the effect his paintings had on me; I had never before seen any of the classical genius’ works, and it was very enlightening.

His technique, of using thick paints and bold hard strokes, had to be viewed at the correct distance, but when it was, the visions he created were astounding, almost alive in their intensity and connection with reality. One of his self-portraits, painted from looking in a mirror on a small canvass, had the most piercing blue eyes I’ve ever seen, eyes that were alive, and stared right into the soul of the observer…..

Herr Van Gogh must also have been a very deep thinker, as this is not a common insight; it is a very subtle point, and often overlooked by Western philosophers, at least to my knowledge. It is nice to know that excellence in one area does not limit one to showing such talent in only that area.

It gives me a little hope for the continued existence of mankind, even if that is not rational; but hope springs eternal, and if East and West can combine their understanding of reality enough to become commonly accepted, then we may yet find our way back to a path that won’t end up killing us…. Chances are slim, but not zero….
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Boy, now, there’s some good advice from Dr. Freud, which can’t always be said with any degree of truth. The good doctor was an intelligent man, no doubt, but had his head pretty far up his ass on a lot of fronts. This, however, hits the nail right on the head, and is something I find it useful to say to myself each morning before reading the news, just in case that Westbrook Baptist church or Mitt Romney have released some statement that sets a new standard of ignorance to affront the rest of us. It helps to keep it in perspective…. and keeps me personally from biting the first real person with whom I come into contact, just to release the pressure that reading that stuff can create….

It’s gotten so I have to literally walk away from some articles, to keep from banging my fists and/or forehead against the keyboard, which, though cathartic, tends to be hard on the keys. Even music doesn’t help, when I read some of the stuff that the minister and congregation of the Westbrook church put on their signs all over the country where they travel to spread their hatred and bigotry. Not even Mozart, and he can usually cut through almost any negativity….. And now that Mitt is the official Republican Main Squeeze, I keep expecting new clueless statements to be coming out any time…. Something to look forward to, in a perverted sort of way….

Quem metuunt, oderunt. (They hate whom they fear.) — Ennius (239-169 BC)

Ah well, after over 55 years of reading, and/or listening to, and watching, the stuff that goes into American newspapers and programs, I should know better than to get too emotionally involved in it all. I distinctly remember, at the age of about four or five, or so, lying on a couch somewhere, watching the Republican National Convention on TV, (I LIKE IKE!), and thinking to myself, “Boy this is really stupid and boring….”. That should have been a warning of what was to come in the future…..

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Her Reply

IF all the world and love were young,
And truth in every shepherd’s tongue,
These pretty pleasures might me move
To live with thee and be thy Love.

But Time drives flocks from field to fold;
When rivers rage and rocks grow cold;
And Philomel becometh dumb;
The rest complains of cares to come.

The flowers do fade, and wanton fields
To wayward Winter reckoning yields:
A honey tongue, a heart of gall,
Is fancy’s spring, but sorrow’s fall.

Thy gowns, thy shoes, thy beds of roses,
Thy cap, thy kirtle, and thy posies,
Soon break, soon wither–soon forgotten,
In folly ripe, in reason rotten.

Thy belt of straw and ivy-buds,
Thy coral clasps and amber studs,–
All these in me no means can move
To come to thee and be thy Love.

But could youth last, and love still breed,
Had joys no date, nor age no need,
Then these delights my mind might move
To live with thee and be thy Love.

Sir Walter Raleigh

Okay, so I’m a romantic… so sue me….   🙂   Enjoy!
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Murphy seems to be laying low for a little while, so I’m going to take advantage of that, and go get some stuff done out in the Big Blue Room…. 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….

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2

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?

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1

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….
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“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!

Major fun for trapezoids….

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7

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?….
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“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….
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“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
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“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
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“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. ….
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“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…..
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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!

Pretty loud for the deluxe model….

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2

Ffolkes,
Tab key or no tab key, I don’t do Shakespeare…. Not even with a headache, nor when I’m half asleep, as now. It’s a bit weird that ever since I started writing about how much his work bothers me, it seems to pop up in my database every third quote. Ubiquitous barely begins to describe it, which I have to believe is Murphy’s doing. Only he could arrange matters so that the very thing that most annoys me is forced upon my attention on a regular basis. Statistical mathematics won’t account for how often one of Willie’s obscure little couplets or impenetrable verses comes up in the dB…. but, he IS the world’s most published asshole, so what can I expect?

That said, it won’t be necessary now to subject you to an entire section of his work, and my shooting at it for several hundred words. This one paragraph took care of the itch… so we can get right to the important stuff for the day. I won’t go into the physical struggles extant today; they’re hard enough to deal with without trying to write about them as well.

We’ll just put on our SCUBA gear, clean off our masks, and dive right in to look for some delicious pearls for this morning’s offering. That will be a lot better than several paragraphs of complaints, n’est pas? Oui! C’est vrai! (I think that’s right; French isn’t my strong suit, outside the kitchen or the bedroom….) Any who, let’s go Pearl!….
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“If you understand, things are as they are. If you do not understand, things are as they are.” — Gensha, Zen Master

This is a wonderful koan couplet, and a very apt corollary to axiom #2 of Peruaosophy, to wit: “The Nature of the Universe is Change. Unpredictable, innovative Transformation of Reality is the Norm. If you have a problem with this, you are in for a rough ride in Life.” The connection, which may appear unclear, is actually quite logical. If one accepts the above as true, then axiom #2, in conjunction with Murphy’s presence, implies that just when one learns to accept things as they are, they change. A nasty habit, to be sure, but much like a hive of bees in one’s head, there they are…. deal.

All of us can no doubt come up with a myriad of examples of this process at work in the world at large, because, thanks to the efforts of Murphy and his army of willing helpers, each one of us is at the mercy of a Universe that cares not at all whether we understand what is going on, or if we prefer our corn flakes dry. (That’s called a humorous euphemism, and they’re rare, as a species, so take note…. If you’re not keeping a record of this stuff, you should be…) Most often, I think the examples we find would be work-related, or in some way connected to some sort of bureaucracy, as they are the Universe’s greatest allies at making us feel shitty.

“In a mature society, “civil servant” is semantically equal to “civil master.” — Lazarus Long

No matter who we are, or where we live, bureaucracies give us all a pain in the tush. Need to drive a car? A number of bureaucracies, some of them among the largest in the world, will do their best to lengthen and complicate the process of finding, buying, and licensing the car, not to mention the hoops you will need to negotiate through in order to legalize your driving at all. Need to put your kids in school? Welcome to the American educational system, which has taken over from the US Army in the use of forms in triplicate. Want to have a dog or cat companion? It may astound you to learn, as it did me, that even cats and dogs MUST be licensed; society says you can’t have one unless the fee is paid, and the animal has been duly placed on a number of lists, available to any law enforcement agency or TD&H who wants them. (TD&H = Tom, Dick, & Harry… they’re veterinarians…)

“The whole history of civilization is strewn with creeds and institutions which were invaluable at first, and deadly afterward.” — Walter Bagehot

So, the final two queries in the previous paragraph assume a larger importance, as they can teach us how to deal with bureaucracies without shooting innocent people. (Though I sometimes have doubts as to the innocence of some bureaucrats; a lot of them seem to enjoy making life difficult for others… A lot of them must be frustrated politicians, I guess, with the need to lord it over others, but can’t get the votes to get themselves elected into an office, where they can indulge their baser instincts for theft and oppression to their heart’s content…..) But, if one learns to deal with how the bureaucratic mind works, one can think their way around all the obstacles that they will throw up between us and our goal…. it’s not much, but it helps, and one should always take any help offered in situations such as this….
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“Are we at last brought to such a humiliating and debasing degradation, that we cannot be trusted with arms for our own defense? Where is the difference between having our arms in our own possession and under our own direction, and having them under the management of Congress? If our defense be the _real_ object of having those arms, in whose hands can they be trusted with more propriety, or equal safety to us, as in our own hands?” — Patrick Henry

Here is the question that those who would get rid of the Second Amendment to the US Constitution would have us ignore. There are a large number of people, otherwise nice, intelligent folks, who have decided that the American people shouldn’t have guns available to them.

Their justification is that too many criminals have access to more firepower than do the police forces in each community, and their preferred solution is to make it illegal for anyone except the police and armed forces to carry weapons of that nature. Hell, it’s already illegal to carry a knife longer than 3 inches, because the PTB are afraid someone might stab someone. GASP! You mean there are bad people out there? People who would be less than nice to everyone else? What a surprise!

In case it wasn’t clear, those last two sentences, or queries, should be infused with sarcasm if read aloud. Sarcasm is one of my natural responses to being taken for a fool, especially when it comes to human nature. Humans are violent. Period. It is in their nature. Anyone who cannot acknowledge that fact probably still believes in the tooth fairy, and is a sure candidate for early Alzheimer’s disease, because they have a very strong sense of denial.

It is a fact, and trying to deny it, or pretty it up as a “tendency” just makes those people who indulge in expressions of violence that much more dangerous. The scariest part of the whole gun issue for me is the insistence on the part of the police and those who want the guns taken away from us that THEY can be trusted to use their guns rationally, and within the limits of law, whereas the general public cannot be trusted to do so….

Now, I will ask you to think about that for a moment. Can you think of any historical period, or any culture anywhere in the world, that demonstrates any sort of support of that assertion? Has there ever been an entirely trustworthy group of policemen, anywhere? If so, please name it for me, and I will add that information into the discussion.

But, I will warn you, I am pretty widely-read and educated about world history and culture, and I cannot think of a single time in history, up to and including today’s world, wherein the police, or the government that controls them, and the armies, was more trustworthy than the populace. In fact, most of history proves the opposite, that the mere act of becoming a police officer tends to corrupt those who are accepted as such; it is a form of power over others, and as such is guaranteed to attract those who are drawn to power for its advantages.

No, I’m sorry, I can’t place any credence at all in the assumption that the police, or the government, should be considered trustworthy; not when there is NO evidence anywhere, or any when, that would indicate any such thing. The facts of the matter, and recorded history, provide innumerable examples to show how UN-trustworthy most police and political armies are, and trying to say otherwise places that person squarely in the camp of the unmitigated LIARS that are always looking for ways to take advantage of other folks.

Our country’s founding fathers spent time, energy, and blood, sweat, and tears to ensure that we would not have to put up with that sort of situation, and anyone who tries to get rid of the Second Amendment brands themselves a traitor, in my eyes…. and traitors should be shot….

Wars kill people. Governments cause wars. Let’s ban government! — Smart Bee
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PAIN:  One thing, at least it proves that you’re alive! — Smart Bee

Living as I do with a certain amount of pain all the time, I can verify the accuracy of this statement. And not only is it true, it also supplies me, as it probably does for others with the same type of issues, with a good reason to learn to appreciate the pain, silly as that sounds. It’s kind of like the feeling I got one day when I was married. I was taking a short nap before getting up to go to my second job, when my wife came in & woke me to tell me I had only ten minutes before I had to leave. It didn’t occur to her that those ten minutes were all I wanted in the world right then; she just thought she was helping.

But the feeling it produced is best shown by what I thought at the time, which was, “It’s really rather a comfort to know that there will always be somebody there to wake me up when ‘they’ think I should be up… annoying, but comforting all the same.”  And it may be perverse, but it’s true, nonetheless. I appreciate my pain, because it does let me know I’m alive, for sure and for certain…. If I didn’t have it, I’d expect to wake up dead some morning, and not even know it…. and that would be the final embarrassment….  🙂
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I know a place…

I know a place where summer strives
With such a practiced frost,
She each year leads her daisies back,
Recording briefly, “Lost.”

But when the south wind stirs the pools
And struggles in the lanes,
Her heart misgives her for her vow,
And she pours soft refrains

Into the lap of adamant,
And spices, and the dew,
That stiffens quietly to quartz
Upon her amber shoe.

— Emily Dickinson

No comments…. just needed a shot of beauty, so here it is…..
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ASS, n.  A public singer with a good voice but no ear.  In Virginia City, Nevada, he is called the Washoe Canary, in Dakota, the Senator, and everywhere the Donkey.  The animal is widely and variously celebrated in the literature, art and religion of every age and country; no other so engages and fires the human imagination as this noble vertebrate.  Indeed, it is doubted by some (Ramasilus, _lib. II., De Clem._, and C. Stantatus, _De Temperamente_) if it is not a god; and as such we know it was worshiped by the Etruscans, and, if we may believe Macrobious, by the Cupasians also.  Of the only two animals admitted into the Mahometan Paradise along with the souls of men, the ass that carried Balaam is one, the dog of the Seven Sleepers the other.  This is no small distinction.  From what has been written about this beast might be compiled a library of great splendor and magnitude, rivaling that of the Shakespearean cult, and that which clusters about the Bible.  It may be said, generally, that all literature is more or less Asinine.

“Hail, holy Ass!” the quiring angels sing;
“Priest of Unreason, and of Discords King!”
Great co-Creator, let Thy glory shine:
God made all else, the Mule, the Mule is thine!”
G.J.
— Ambrose Bierce, “The Devil’s Dictionary”

As I’ve previously demonstrated, I am a big fan of nonsense; something about it just appeals to me. As Willie Wonka said, “A little nonsense now and then, is cherished by the wisest men.” This may be one reason I’ve been able to write so much in the last few months about such serious subjects, as I tend to throw in some nonsense to break the pattern of seriousness.

Mary Poppins had that much right about the teaspoon of sugar and the medicine, and what’s good enough for Mary Poppins is good enough for me. Though I can’t claim to approach her status of “practically perfect in every way” I think that sharing her appreciation of whimsical interludes in life at least shows some sense and style. And what’s the point of going through life if you can’t do it with some style?….
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All in all, not a bad effort, I think. If nothing else, it’s been fun, of a sort, trying to write around the headache and back pain. Yes, I know, it’s a poor definition of fun, but we take what we can get, or in this case, what we can afford. It looks to be a busy day, as the outside world has intruded enough that I will need to make a trip to the post office. With no further ado, I shall bid thee adieu until tomorrow. Y’all take care out there, and May the Metaphorse be with you…..

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

gigoid

Kowabunga!

A fight for four pies….

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Ffolkes,
Blood poured down my face from the gash above the eye, annoying but not yet blinding. I slapped a surgiskin patch on it to keep it clean, and keep the blood out of my visor, and wondered how I would live down giving myself the only injury in a live engagement…. I spied a helmet peeking over the fence across the courtyard of the abandoned building, and squeezed off a couple of quick rounds in the general area to let them know I wasn’t asleep.

Now I’m really mad; listening to the DI dress me down for banging my own head on the lander door wasn’t what I had anticipated for my return to quarters after the exercise. I had hoped to catch some extra Z’s, as I’d been boning for the psych strategy test tomorrow, but my clumsiness had ensured a visit to a smarmy, sarcastic medic, followed by the opportunity to hear the dulcet tones of Sergeant O’Brien in full chewing mode……

Enough…. I’m tired of O’Brien, and he hasn’t opened his mouth yet…. Goes to show I shouldn’t let myself write before going to bed…. it always comes out strange when I look at it in the morning…. Either that, or I need to finish one of these little stories when I write it. Oh, I hate when I get all logical on myself….. I’ve had fun before. This isn’t it.

This is getting me nowhere, so I’m going to just get on with this morning’s dive…. Pearling sounds safer than anything else I can think of right now, so…. off we go, then…..
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“Evolution is as much a fact as the earth turning on its axis and going around the sun.  At one time this was called the Copernican theory; but, when evidence for a theory becomes so overwhelming that no informed person can doubt it, it is customary for scientists to call it a fact.  That all present life descended from earlier forms, over vast stretches of geologic time, is as firmly established as Copernican cosmology.  Biologists differ only with respect to theories about how the process operates.” — Martin Gardner, “Irving Kristol and the Facts of Life”, — The Skeptical Inquirer, Vol. XII No. 2, ppg. 128-131

Although this is a very clear, concise statement of facts, it fails to account for one piece of evidence that, while seemingly contradictory, actually is proof of its overall relevance. This is the mathematical certainty that the average intelligence of the species is declining over time; I’ve presented this proof previously, and so will not go over it in its entirety now. But, like with the evidence of the Copernican theory, it has been firmly established, so we must, as a species, find some way to overcome our own intransigence.

Our own competence at killing other life forms has propelled our species to the top of the food chain, at least by all appearances. In doing so, we have removed many of the challenges to our survival that had been a check on how fast we increased our numbers. The removal of these limiting factors has allowed us to breed without restraint, which is why we have negated the normal laws, and applied the special laws of peripheral relevance that are dumbing us down.

We breed so fast that reality can’t kill us fast enough for us to get smarter; the number of lower intelligence members of the species has grown to the point where the number of births far outstrips the number of deaths, and the process continues to spiral down, down, down, toward the bottom of the gene pool….

So, if it seems to you that things are getting crazier, and that more stupid stuff keeps happening all the time, don’t panic…. you are right. It IS much crazier than before, and stupid stuff will continue to happen, right up until our species’ name gets called to board the train for extinction… the same train we have sent thousands of other species on to their demise…. SIGH…..

“No matter how cynical you get, it’s impossible to keep up.” — Lily Tomlin
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Against the assault of laughter nothing can stand. — Mark Twain

One of Mark Twain’s most attractive features as a writer was his grasp of common sense. Here is an idea that all of us know instinctively is true; all of us have observed, at one time or another in our lives, just how powerful laughter can be when used against evil.

This is knowledge so ubiquitous that it has been overlooked in today’s political world, and is not used nearly enough to suit me. I think we should, instead of criticizing and degrading folks like Mitt, and Newt, and others of their political ilk, we should just greet everything they say with a burst of sheer delighted laughter, and just point a finger while howling and holding our stomach. I think it would do wonders….

Imagine, if you would, a large room full of average American folks, in their everyday dress, sitting quietly in their chairs,waiting for their hero to come smile and talk to them, just as if they mattered. Instead of hecklers, placed throughout the crowd at strategic points, are people with a well-developed sense of humor, who will proceed to laugh uproariously whenever the candidate makes some outrageous statement, which usually doesn’t take long….

I think, with good timing and the right lines, we could eliminate quite a few of these bozos, embarrassing them so heavily they’ll never show their face in public again…. Well, we can hope, can’t we?  And if nothing else, laughter is good for the soul, so they say…. Let’s see if it can’t be useful in creating a new political landscape, shall we? Personally, I look forward to applying this technique in the coming months leading up to November…..
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Inner State

Bereft, mind empty
none remains real or true
The page is alone.

gigoid

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The text above is from “Dune” by Frank Herbert; the image was found on Facebook. If you try repeating this to yourself when afraid, you will find that it is quite effective, not in reducing fear, but in getting past the fear. I speak from experience in this, having first read this when I was in my teens, and then used it innumerable times in my work with the mentally ill…. Most simply put, it works….
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If you are not the poet, perhaps you can be the poem. — Smart Bee

It has happened…. I couldn’t find a suitable pearl, in just under two hours of searching. I was thorough, I think. I visited two different websites, and checked out a number of categories at each, all to no avail. I’ve developed a callous on my index finger from hitting the “next” button on my database of quotes, and keep seeing the ones I’ve used in the last few days. Naturally, since I used Shakespeare as a subject just yesterday, a good 40% of what I was forced to go through was more crap from his quill…. Murphy at work….

So, we have an unprecedented event today… I’m giving up until tomorrow…. What I have already done will have to do….. Disgusted I am, but resigned as well….
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So be it. I’m not going to consider this a loss; I’m going to think of it as an evolution. That way it will be a challenge, and I can approach it just like any other logical problem. Of course, that’s no guarantee of success, but will serve for the nonce to get on with the day. Considering how the first four hours have gone, it promises to be interesting, in all the senses of the word…. 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!