Unknown patterns of regimental filtration….

Ffolkes,
Today is the last day of leisure for this week. Tomorrow I should be able to pick up the keys to my new place, and start the moving process. I’m hoping it goes as smoothly as the packing has done…. Using the most useful advantage of age, foresight, I’ve been packing little by little, until there is now only the daily use items left to go, and they’ll get done on the last day, anyway…… Not too bad for an old fart with flat feet and flatulence, eh?….

“He is never less at leisure than when at leisure.” — Cicero (106-43 BC) — De Officiis, iii, 1

For those who enjoyed yesterday’s story beginning in the intro, I have already started on that, to turn it into a whole story, whether novel, novella, or short story length. The story is yet a bit unclear in my head, other than the beginning, but it will solidify as it percolates in the back of my mind for the time being; when it gets a bit more solid, I’ll outline it, so I know where to go with it….. should be fun. Hope so, anyway….

As I mentioned before, I may have to miss posting this blog on Friday and/or Saturday of this week. I’m not sure at this point whether I’ll have internet service right away in the new place, so I’ll have to go to Starbucks or somewhere else with free Wi-Fi…. and no telling how long I’ll have to do that, so I could conceivably get lazy and not go at all…. time will tell, as always.

Now that all the housekeeping chores have been completed, I think it’s time to go look for some material, just for fun. It’s certainly not for profit…..   Shall we Pearl?…..
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“I haven’t killed anyone yet. Help me keep it that way. I mean, what hope is there for the world if I die?” — Smart Bee

The above line from Smart Bee is actually two separate aphorisms that popped up one after the other, and were obviously (to me) meant to be together…. As it is now, it perfectly describes how I feel much of the time, especially pre-rant…. I have a small problem today, though, so I’m morphing right in front of your eyes….

I tried to write a rant, but just couldn’t work up the strong outrage that is needed to get fully into the flow of a full-fledged rant; even I fall prey to human nature at times, and rationalize my laziness as either fatigue or indifference… In this case, I’ll be honest, and cop to it….. I’m feeling lazy, so an old-school pearl will have to do for the nonce…. There IS a point to all this….. if only I knew what it was….

“I was contemplating the immortal words of Socrates, who said… I drank what?” — Real Genius

I don’t suffer from insanity–I revel in it! — Smart Bee

The seven eyes of Ningauble the Wizard floated back to his hood  as he reported to Fafhrd: “I have seen much, yet cannot explain all. The Gray Mouser is exactly twenty-five feet below the deepest cellar in the palace of Gilpkerio Kistomerces. Even though twenty-four parts in twenty-five of him are dead, he is alive. “Now about Lankhmar. She’s been invaded, her walls breached everywhere and desperate fighting is going on in the streets, by a fierce host which out-numbers Lankhmar’s inhabitants by fifty to one — and equipped with all modern weapons. Yet you can save the city.”  “How?” demanded Fafhrd.  Ningauble shrugged. “You’re a hero. You should know.” — Fritz Leiber, from “The Swords of Lankhmar”

Forever never lasts as long as you think it will!! — Smart Bee (Especially if the grammar police catch you using multiple exclamation points)

“It may be that our role on this planet is not to worship God but to create him.” — Arthur C. Clarke

“Make no judgments where you have no compassion.” — Anne McCaffrey

That should do it…. it’s a pretty simple puzzle, all things considered….. If it is too obscure, don’t fret, just eat some chocolate…. that fixes just about anything……
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I’ve indicated previously how much I like the poetry of Emily Dickinson…. below is one of my favorite of all her poems, because of the sheer power of her words, few as they are…..

A word is dead
When it is said
Some say.
I say it just
Begins to live
That day.
— Emily Dickinson

Below you will find a poem by another poetess of great talent….. and you will find my comments directly below that…. no rolling your eyes like that!….. Pay attention, please…..

Under the Rug

I knew him for too many seasons. So when
the hot fury of summer finds me, or
when winter’s ice freezes my bones to
my skin, I smell him in my fingertips.
I wear him to bed.
I hear his laughter echoing through the night,
the night….

the nights come heavy with dreams that
wet my eyes, that drown my blankets with
sweat,
an old premonition.

I remember before he went,
his hands were as wide as my eyes,
sliding across my cheek,
his blue eyes flashed a promise at me

and in my fear, he stayed.

Then, he tugged at needles and
flossed with weakness
and they took him. The dark angels of
forever took him
beyond touch, or sight, or scent

and I went off to Dr. Steve.
I found him with his plants and his leather
and I found
the bottom of the rocks.
I spent my nights with Love’s thick hands
strangling me, and my
days with Dr. Steve’s hands turned upside
down, proving that authority was a soft side.

I gave his magazines a thought,
I gave his theories a thought,
I gave him every last piece of vulnerable paper
I had sitting around from the past 4 years,
and after he poured my heart into his
plastic plants,
I poured out my last ounce of attempt to stuff
struggle into the shadows.
I lifted his rug, and I crawled underneath it to
hide myself from the fury of the seasons.

~~ maggiemaeijustsaythis

http://maggiemaeijustsaythis.wordpress.com/2012/08/26/under-the-rug/#comment-20671    Following this link will take you to the original of this poem by maggiemae, as posted on her site, maggiemaeijustsaythis, a WordPress blog site; you will find many other poems there, equally as powerful and elegant as this one.

Maggie Mae is, in short, an astounding talent. I firmly believe that her work will someday be included in college and high school educational courses as one of the most important poets of the first part of the Twenty-First century, just as her favorite poet, Emily Dickinson is considered for her own era.

Seriously, she is that good. Her poems are filled with images of great power and metaphor, and reading one of them can leave you breathless in awe, as well as breathless from the sheer roller-coaster feeling of following her thoughts and words…. It is a truly amazing experience….. and one that promises to bring her unique passion and vision into the public eye for a long time to come, to our everlasting joy and appreciation. Please visit her site, and prepare to be amazed…..
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I wrote this poem in reaction to some of the news stories I’ve been reading on the upcoming election battle….. which gives me the right to call it a pearl….

Modest sounds of impatient concern….

Crowds converge at the raw and grisly scene,
comatose to compassion, curiosity tugging at the hem
with sharp, oh, sharp tools made obscene,
filing the essence of future hopes in spite of them.

Yet who has won the keys to the treasure,
who whipped up the fear of another brother?
Who spent the dreams of the old in selfish measure,
with such arrogant blindness grave issues to smother?

Fateful decisions may prompt still another pause,
to catch and release collective images of insanity.
Surely legitimate anger arises with ample cause
wallowing in self-made entrepreneurs, fluent in profanity.

A quartet of eternities must pass to guarantee change,
regardless of need, or desire, or autonomous manipulation.
Ancient rules and modern aggression is only passing strange
when golden delusion grasps futilely at its related illusory station.

~~ gigoid

A bit ambiguous regarding any hope for change, but all in all, not bad, I think…. hope you enjoyed it….
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Such as it is, it is done, and that may be the best we can say of it….. Y’all take care out there, and May the Metaphorse be with you…..


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

gigoid

Dozer

Kowabunga!

Promises make siblings irritable….

Ffolkes,
To the fading, faint echoes of the soft morning dew forming on the leaves, the sun shyly peeked over the Eastern hills, unsure at first, then gaining strength with each passing moment. Drawing in the beauty all around with the last breath of the morning ritual, Natomas gazed over the valley below, just waking; a cock crowed below his vantage point, bravely heralding the onrushing morning light. As he started down the path, he thought to himself that such beauty was indeed a gift from the universe, and he held the warmth of that thought inside as he strode into the day, vibrant and joyfully alive….

As he rounded a turn in the path twisting down the hillside, a large, soft weight hit him between his shoulders, causing him to stumble forward clumsily for  three dangerous steps before catching his balance. He whirled in place, and froze, looking with some instant spurt of fear at a large, snow-white tiger, sitting on his haunches, with what looked suspiciously like a grin on his face…..

Natomas straightened from his crouch, set his hands on his hips, tilted his head, and said, “Don’t you have anything more exciting to jump on this fine morning? For what arcane reason should I be the unlucky recipient of your boisterousness?” The tiger, without losing the grin at all, replied, “I guess you’re just lucky!”….. Natomas broke into his own grin, turned, and set forth, with the tiger striding at his side…..

“Why are you here, Findarel, walking with me this fine spring morning, instead of laying peacefully at my mother’s feet?” “She sent me to find you,” he growled. “She has had a vision….” Natomas’ countenance instantly grew grim, and he quickened his pace. “The same as the last?”, he queried anxiously. “She would not discuss it with me when she had it last week.” “She wishes to discuss it now….” the tiger answered, and leaped ahead, as the house among the trees came into view, knowing Natomas would not delay in following…..

Okay, so I like it too, and it’s too good a story line to ignore, so, I’ll be saving it, and expanding it as soon as I can; it promises to be interesting…. It will have to wait a week or two, as this coming week I will be heavily involved in the moving process, little baby steps at a time, so I don’t end up unable to do it at all…. This weekend has gone pretty well, all in all, and I’ve got about 85% of my stuff packed and ready to move… Most of what is left won’t be packed until the last minute, as it’s the stuff I use daily… no big deal, and I’ve already got boxes…. Piece o’cake…..

All things being the same, I could guarantee this blog’s daily appearance. However, since they are NOT the same, I may have to miss a day or two to deal with the transition from one ISP to another. So, if you don’t see a post here on Friday, or Saturday next, fear not, I shall return. New vistas are opening up…. I hope my vertigo doesn’t kick in…. That all said, it must be time to get started on today’s dive…. Shall we Pearl?…..
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“In Christianity neither morality nor religion come into contact with reality at any point.” — Friedrich Nietzsche

In a perfect demonstration of the accuracy of Herr Nietzche’s assertion, I give you Senator Dan Quayle, a veritable paragon of Christianity, speaking, with absolute faith, and insane illogic, the rigid and hateful prejudices as obsessed over by the Church of the Brain Dead….. one of many such cults common to the not-so-outer-fringes of the Christian, Muslim, Jewish, and other religions, all of which are prone to creation of pockets of entirely too vocal enclaves of zealous fundamentalists, who spew their strident hatred and bigotry all over the innocent, and the different…. Dan said, and this is a quote….

“You’re a very strong woman… Though this would be a traumatic experience that you would never forget, I think that you would be very successful in life.” — Senator Dan Quayle telling an 11-year-old girl — why he would want her to have the baby if she were raped — by her father, 10/18/88 (reported in Esquire, 8/92)

After you have recovered from the shock of encountering (again) such abject inhumanity, racism, bigotry, you name it and they are doing it (‘they’ being anyone who even listens to this tripe without gagging, and including any other religious zealotry as practiced in other religions beside the Christian cults) (cults is the correct word, trust me….), I’d like to scare you even further, so take a deep breath….

“If I seem to take part in politics, it is only because politics encircles us today like the coil of a snake from which one cannot get out, no matter how much one tries. I wish therefore to wrestle with the snake.” — Mahatma Gandhi

The just released, official platform of the Republican Party for the 2012 election, lays out in clear detail the very spirit of what Mr. Quayle is quoted as saying above. Their stances on women’s healthcare, and the basic rights women to decide for themselves how to live, LGBT rights and marriage (in)equality, immigration, tax cuts for the rich, tax raises for the middle and lower classes, continued reliance on the same failed economic policies that killed the economy (trickle-down theory, supply side economics), cuts to and actual elimination of Social Security and Medicare for seniors, voter suppression techniques reminiscent of the post-Civil War era….all are designed to turn back the clock to the middle of the last century, and further, in the case of women’s rights, and voter’s rights for minorities (which are no longer minorities….).

“Every normal man must be tempted, at times, to spit on his hands, hoist the black flag, and begin slitting throats.” — H. L. Mencken

The frightened white, rich bankers and politicos are starting to realize that they are no longer actually in the majority…. close, but not enough to matter, since many, many of us honkies are technically on the other side of the fence, having more faith in humanity and basic human rights, than in perpetrating religious zealotry, or spreading lies and fear under the guise of politics.

“I know that most men, including those at ease with problems of the greatest complexity, can seldom accept even the simplest and most obvious truth if it be such as would oblige them to admit the falsity of conclusions which they have delighted in explaining to colleges, which they have proudly taught to others, and which they have woven, thread by thread, into the fabric of their lives.” — Tolstoy

This is so true….. It is insight like this, into the very nature of man, that frightens the beloved ruling class, and has since the time of Tolstoy, and before. The complacent culture that has derived from the young, energetic society of our forebears has lost the will to suffer change. They cannot imagine life different from what they know, and don’t wish to know.

Unfortunately for them, and fortunately for the rest of us here in the real world, there are now more of us than there are of them….. provided all of us who know, and care, get out there to vote in November. It is a matter of making the, to me, obvious choice, to take a path that leads to a future for all of us, instead taking us back to a time that no longer exists, and is meant only for a few….. It’s a no-brainer, to my way of thinking….

“Is a tattoo real, like a curb or a battleship?  Or are we suffering in Safeway?” — Zippy the Pinhead

Take care ffolkes, we don’t want to end up suffering in Safeway…… really, you don’t want to do that…..  I can testify…..

A disciple of another sect once came to Drescher as he was eating his morning meal.  “I would like to give you this personality test”, said the outsider, “because I want you to be happy.” Drescher took the paper that was offered him and put it into the toaster- “I wish the toaster to be happy too”. — AI koan
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Kubla Khan

By Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Or, a vision in a dream. A Fragment.
In Xanadu did Kubla Khan
A stately pleasure-dome decree:
Where Alph, the sacred river, ran
Through caverns measureless to man
Down to a sunless sea.
So twice five miles of fertile ground
With walls and towers were girdled round;
And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills,
Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree;
And here were forests ancient as the hills,
Enfolding sunny spots of greenery.

But oh! that deep romantic chasm which slanted
Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover!
A savage place! as holy and enchanted
As e’er beneath a waning moon was haunted
By woman wailing for her demon-lover!
And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething,
As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing,
A mighty fountain momently was forced:
Amid whose swift half-intermitted burst
Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail,
Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher’s flail:
And mid these dancing rocks at once and ever
It flung up momently the sacred river.
Five miles meandering with a mazy motion
Through wood and dale the sacred river ran,
Then reached the caverns measureless to man,
And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean;
And ’mid this tumult Kubla heard from far
Ancestral voices prophesying war!
The shadow of the dome of pleasure
Floated midway on the waves;
Where was heard the mingled measure
From the fountain and the caves.
It was a miracle of rare device,
A sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice!

A damsel with a dulcimer
In a vision once I saw:
It was an Abyssinian maid
And on her dulcimer she played,
Singing of Mount Abora.
Could I revive within me
Her symphony and song,
To such a deep delight ’twould win me,
That with music loud and long,
I would build that dome in air,
That sunny dome! those caves of ice!
And all who heard should see them there,
And all should cry, Beware! Beware!
His flashing eyes, his floating hair!
Weave a circle round him thrice,
And close your eyes with holy dread
For he on honey-dew hath fed,
And drunk the milk of Paradise.

What can be said, but, wow….. Wow…. Forgot how good this was/is…. Hope you enjoyed it, too…..
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Dreaming, I wait….

In the most patient moments of rationality
kindness flows smoothly in a special milieu,
fallow thoughts speed first from equality
to give no anxious fever, anger to eschew.

Indignant mothers and step-sons in-law
shall fade simply from brilliant to grey,
intoning ritual dogma, fresh, avid, and raw,
falling, falling, in massive pastoral disarray.

Safety lives not, save brightly in ignorant bliss,
it follows us all, silent and infinitely frail,
foremost too often, soft as a virgin kiss,
alive, always eager, willing, and pale.

Intimate knowledge finds only the bold few
with courage and virtue to gift, unbidden.
No solemn royal version may pass in review,
true love for man, never to remain unhidden.

Sweet feathers of Emily’s hope uplift,
calm, drowsy episodes bursting with light,
With final glad cries we set ourselves adrift,
swimming in the oceans of natural delight.

When sorrow is banished, in ages yet to come,
roots solidly anchored, cold and remote,
Ample supplies of kindness sit silent and dumb,
and the old stranger shrugs on his faded coat.

Dreaming, then, I wait with shadows in the night
aspiring to inspire, a message from the muse’s heart
Never forgotten images, framed in color bright,
tempt me only, grieving, steeped in serenity’s arcane art…..

~~ gigoid

And there you have it…. such as it is. I hope you can appreciate just how bloody a process this is for me… but, if not, I hope you at least enjoy the poem for its brave journey into madness…   🙂
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In the interests of honesty and full disclosure, most, if not all of this Pearl was composed yesterday afternoon, when I fell into a semi-trance-like state, during which I ripped out the rant in the first section, found, read, copied, pasted,and formatted Kubla Khan, and then opened up a vein and poured myself into the poem…. I’m not sure what I’ll do with all this extra time this morning, but I’m sure I’ll think of something…. Maybe I’ll change the dressing on my open vein….. Y’all take care out there, and May the Metaphorse be with you….


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

gigoid

Dozer

Kowabunga!

On safari in search of marketable mold…..

Ffolkes,
If I hear one more idiot tell me, or anyone else, that global warming is a hoax, or just a theory, I’m going to knock them down, and do naughty things to their genitalia. (Ouch! At least I said it without being vulgar….)  I’m serious. For the last week, here in California, in August, the weather has been comparable to a chilly spring; I’ve had to turn on the heat on more than one morning, and last night, it was so cold I had to wear a T-shirt to bed, which I usually disdain. For pity’s sake, it’s August in California… even here near the water, we should be seeing days with a temp over 85, often going into swelter mode on hotter days.

I’ve lived here in this state, minus a few months here and there, for all of my damn-near 62 years, and I have never seen weather this strange. It’s hot and dry in the winter, or it rains massively for 5 days, then stops for 5 months. The summers are unpredictable, too. The unusual is made more dramatic for the effect it has on people who generally count on the weather to be amenable; we do like our BBQ time, even in winter. But, now we can’t count on it to act as we expect, and it is bothersome on some lower, unfelt level of our consciousness, kind of like the feeling one gets going on vacation, and wondering what we might have left running back at home….. a niggling bit of discomfort with no obvious cause…..

Another study was released recently, by the most prominent scientist in the world who previously had spoken out against global warming, because he didn’t believe it was being caused by mankind. He released a statement that he had, as any reasonable scientist would, gone back over the evidence, and had reversed his opinion. He now not only believes that global warming is taking place, but that the evidence is clear that the changes are being caused by the carbon monoxide being pumped into the air in unprecedented amounts. He reversed his position so thoroughly that the people who had hired him for the study (a group of industrialist types who wanted him to disprove the ideas around climate change) had to come out to publicly deny his statements, causing them no end of embarrassment.

“Man’s deliberate destruction of his own habitat–planet Earth–could serve as a mighty theme for a mighty book worthy of a modern Melville or Tolstoy. But our best fictioneers confine themselves to domestic drama–soap opera with literary trimmings” — Edward Abbey

Since I’ve turned the intro section into a mini-rant, I’d most probably be wise to get on with the rest of today’s effort. I just had to say all this to get it out of my head; it’s been bothering me a lot, especially in the mornings. I guess I’m unaccustomed to shivering in August….. ah well, I can’t fix any of it right now, so we’ll try to salvage the rest of the morning with a bit of diving and expounding….. Shall we Pearl?……
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“A good laugh is sunshine in a house.” — William Makepeace Thackeray

If the above from Mr. Thackeray isn’t part of a poem, it should be…. Laughter is also a good way to start the day, an assertion I challenge anyone to deny. In view of that, I offer the following as proof that our Congress is full of the most interesting, and amusing, IDIOTS in the entire world…..

The award for All-Time Champion and Protector of Youthful Morals goes to Representative Clare E. Hoffman of Michigan.  During an  impassioned House debate over a proposed bill to “expand oyster and clam research,” a sharp-eared informant transcribed the following exchange between our hero and Rep. John D. Dingell, also of Michigan.

DINGELL: There are places in the world at the present time where we are having to artificially propagate oysters and clams.

HOFFMAN: You mean the oysters I buy are not nature’s oysters?

DINGELL: They may or may not be natural. The simple fact of the matter is that female oysters through their living habits cast out large amounts of seed and the male oysters cast out large amounts of fertilization……

HOFFMAN: Wait a minute!  I do not want to go into that.  There are many teenagers who read The Congressional Record.

LSHMCCOMN!!  (Laughed so hard my coffee came out my nose….)   Can you believe that? Can a human being be THAT stupid? I suppose the answer is, Yes, they can, because it’s right there in black and white. This Clare Hoffman person was obviously rescued from an abusive childhood spent in another dimension, because she has clearly never met an American teenager…..

Oh, I suppose she is right in that SOME teenagers read the Record…. all six of them are in advanced study programs in Political Science at six different schools around the nation. Other than those six, I can’t say I’ve ever heard of, or seen, any teenager reading the Record; I’d wager 99% of them couldn’t tell you what the Record is, much less know how to find a copy to read. I guarantee the Google results for that search are so dusty they’ve never been wiped off since they were stuck up on the shelf back in the 80’s, soon after Google first fired up the search engines….

Misanthropology: the study of why people are so stupid and why most of them should die, SOON! — Smart Bee

It kind of gives you that funny feeling in the gut (similar to indigestion….) that indicates extreme fear, to know that the members of Congress are this dumb. I mean, it’s probably a good thing they are; the less they actually do, the less things get messed up. However, it’s also frightening to think that these people are responsible for any new legislation to saddle us with. In addition, it’s kind of scary to think of them being in charge of deciding on things like human rights, or war, or anything really important. This kind of thinking (or lack thereof) indicates that the decisions they make might not be the best we can come up with…. for goodness’ sake, these people decide on how many atomic bombs we are to keep! Do you really want someone like this Hoffman person making those kinds of decision in your name? I think not…….

I think my biggest regret concerning this whole scenario is that we not only allow these people to sit around an talk about dipshit stuff like this…. we pay them to do it!  Hmm…. that, unfortunately, begs the question, “if we allow them to do this to us, and pay them for doing it, what does that make us?”  Food for thought, eh?……
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A heap of broken images, where the sun beats,
And the dead tree gives no shelter, the cricket no relief,
And the dry stone no sound of water. Only
There is shadow under this red rock,
(Come in under the shadow of this red rock),
And I will show you something different from either
Your shadow in the morning striding behind you
Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you;
I will show you fear in a handful of dust.
— T.S. Eliot, The Waste Land

I came across this excerpt from The Waste Land yesterday, and was curious to read the entire piece, as I didn’t recall much of it from the one time in English class when we went over it. It is truly an amazing piece of work, over 450 lines of powerful verse, almost all of which is metaphorical, a veritable feast of images that explore human nature, and requires close attention to read. It’s well worth it though; there are a lot of little tidbits and nuggets like this, that stand out as special. If you would like to read all of it, a copy can be found at this URL:  http://www.bartleby.com/201/1.html   I hope you enjoy it as much as I did…..
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To see the world in a grain of sand,
And a heaven in a wild flower,
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand,
And eternity in an hour.
— William Blake, “Auguries of Innocence”

It is poetry such as this that has kept me from writing more of it over the years. To my mind, this is just about as good as it gets; beauty, elegance, and deep insight, expressed easily and with passion. It’s hard to believe that anything I might write could be compared to this without coming out looking like the red-headed step-child in a family of blonds; it’ll never quite fit in comfortably.

But that was before; this is now, and my latest efforts at poetry give me some hope. I can now see how it might be possible to come up with a poem that approaches this kind of extraordinary presence, with a lot of effort, and a bit of luck. Until now, I’ve confined my efforts mostly to Haiku, as it seemed to be the only format I could create well. It’s kind of nice, and heartening, to realize that I may someday grow enough in my head to achieve some sort of quality in my poetry; life doesn’t end at 60 these days. 60 is now the new 40, and my prime intellectual creativity is yet to come……

Beauty is in reach
for any who wish to strive.
Elegance abides.

~~ gigoid

That will do me for one day…. I can feel a poem percolating in my head, so we’ll see what comes up later today, and hopefully have something new and exciting for tomorrow’s Pearl…… Abondanza!
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Well, it’s probably not the best Pearl ever…. but it works for me, so off it goes, willy-nilly, to titillate and inspire…. or at least enhance. It’s a wrap…..  Y’all take care out there, and May the Metaphorse be with you…..


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

gigoid

Dozer

Kowabunga!

Surfeit with ecstatic pain…..

Ffolkes,
Okay….. I am now resigned. Try as I may, I can find nothing but ambivalence. I’ve tried to engender some enthusiasm for something positive; nothing doing. Fine, I say to myself, we’ll go with negative. But nooooooo, we’re not going there either, sayeth my stubborn mind.  Not up for a rant so early. So, ambiguity reigns today…. it could be worse…. I could feel like writing a poem…..

Maybe that isn’t such a bad idea…. the poems I’ve created of late have been, if nothing else, acceptable to my inner critic, and the feedback on them has been pretty positive, so perhaps I should put aside my prejudices, and give it a whirl. I suppose it can’t be any harder than trying to come up with prose, not in this state of mind….. We’ll see how it goes once I get this intro out of the way……

Which once again dumps me right back where I started, only now I have all this ambivalence to shed before I can concentrate on what I’m writing…. Hmmm, now, where should I put it. Can’t put it where the sun don’t shine; previous appointments have been made, and cannot be broken. I probably shouldn’t put it in the fridge; the cold would just make it stiffer and harder to mold. And the medicine cabinet is out…. no locks or blocks to keep it from wandering around, getting into mischief.  SIGH, it’s tough to make up one’s mind when it is filled with such ambivalence…..

However, having somehow found our way through the morass of the previous paragraph, I find myself here at the end of the intro, and the ambivalence has been shed. I’m not sure where it went, but, I am sure I don’t want to know. Some things are better left alone, especially when it comes to dealing with unwanted emotions or unwelcome states of mind. Ambivalence fits into both those categories, so we’ll just let it hide wherever it found a niche, and get on with the much more amenable task of finding some stimulating pearls…… Shall we Pearl?…..
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“If Tyranny and Oppression come to this land, it will be in the guise of fighting a foreign enemy.” — James Madison
    From all I can tell from here, this has already happened. When? Why, the very day that the Two Towers were brought down by terrorists, using our own complacency as a weapon. Within hours of that event, politicians of all varieties were screaming for revenge, and the groundwork was laid for the true purpose behind those attacks…..

That purpose had nothing to do with what the terrorists want. I am of the opinion that the entire charade was perpetrated by elements of the CIA, at the behest of their former chief, GWB the First. I’m sorry if that sounds unpatriotic, but I believe it to be true; if it is, it kinda makes them the bad guy, now, doesn’t it?…..

The timing of the attacks are what always bothered me. The day before, September 10th, you may recall, there was an effort to bring to light the voter suppression and vote manipulation in Florida during the election, which had the votes from that state changing from supporting Gore to being in favor of GWB the Junior. There was evidence of mischief in the handling of the votes, and the idea of an investigation into the election was gaining strength, as it should. But, that whole idea was forgotten in the heat of the moment when the terrorists struck….

Funny, isn’t it, how that event changed the face of American politics, putting the fear of “others” into the populace? That fire was immediately stoked until white hot, and the people were made afraid. Of precisely what was never made very clear, but we were supposed to be afraid, at least according to all our brave pundits in Washington. And what was the end result of all that hooraw? The Homeland Security Act, the first blatant, and successful, attempt to abridge the civil rights guaranteed to us by the Bill of Rights.

Searches, seizures, snooping, all without warrant or cause, were made legal, and the rest of the Bill of Rights were restricted. The public not only did not object, they supported this abrogation of duty, all from the fear engendered on 9/11. The right to assemble in peaceful protest was severely restricted, and the forces of evil, in the guise of police, were given carte blanche to roust the citizenry of this country, without having to answer to anyone, even if they proved to be wrong. And did we hear any complaints from the public? None that were publicized….

Which brings us to the other culprits in this whole charade; the media. The media has jumped right onto the fear bandwagon, reporting the terrorist acts in the harshest, screaming headlines they could manage, whipping up the public’s fears with stories of horror and vicious inhumanity. Any voices that objected to the abridgment of rights, or questioned the reactions of the political pundits, were labeled as unpatriotic, and drowned out in the fear-mongering and public paroxysms of terror that blared from the papers and televisions.

“The public will believe anything, so long as it is not founded on truth.” — Edith Sitwell

People tend to forget that the media outlets are all owned by members of the 1%, and are not really interested in presenting unbiased, informational stories. Those don’t sell very well, and they don’t feed into the fear that the beloved ruling class wants the public to feel when they think of other countries. The pundits keep telling the public that the rest of the Third World is jealous, and are out to get us, and by their actions, they are making absolutely sure that is true. The media does NOT present a fair and unbiased version of ANYTHING, much less of the political scene, and people need to remember that…. Just because someone on TV, wearing a nice tie, an American flag pinned to the lapel of their $1000 suit, and an ingratiating smirk, tells you that someone from another country is evil, doesn’t make it so…..

The opinion I expressed above, regarding who is actually responsible for the mess we are in, is, so far, unchallenged by anyone with any direct evidence. But then, nobody wants to hear that they’ve been fooled again by the powers that be; it’s embarrassing, if one considers themselves to be a free man. to realize that they are actually an ignorant slave of the beloved ruling class.

Most folks will pretend that they agree with whatever comes out of the mouths of the pundits, just so they don’t have to look at how stupid they are really being, and how far from reality they actually reside. Nobody likes to feel like a fool. But, to my way of thinking, I’d rather feel the fool, than feel my freedom slip away, all because some asshole in a suit decided his son needed some help to nail down his theft of the election….

“A man who does not think for himself does not think at all.” — Oscar Wilde, “Oscariana”

So be it….. feel free to comment on this theory, should the urge strike…..

“It does no harm just once in a while to acknowledge that the whole country isn’t in flames, that there are people in the country besides politicians, entertainers, and criminals.” — Charles Kuralt
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Premises, premises….

Tricked, I stumble, and I fall
dreaming, through an abandoned palace.
Frightened and wary, unheard my call
fading into memory, no cup, no argent chalice.

The people, crushed, cry out to be freed
asking only to take part, or travel.
Nascent oaths spotlight such bursting need
fed by treachery, deep from our well.

Only the wicked shall find their way blocked
justice seeks them, snug in their hole.
Faint praises never touched, but naked, stalked
singing no gospel, no soul, no rock and roll.

Only the promised will remember the way
from unforgiven trails of sorrow.
To live life, and give death no sway,
saving grace for our only tomorrow.

~~~ gigoid

Well, it looks like the urge to rhyme overcame my reluctance to subject myself to the poetry-writing process…. this one just had to come out….. I hope you like it….
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“He hasn’t a single redeeming vice.” — Oscar Wilde (1854-1900)

Having ranted already today, I wasn’t planning to do so again. But, every suitable pearl I find seems to point me toward taking a few shots at the political scene as it relates to the upcoming election. Then, this came into view….. What a perfect description of either one of the Republican candidates! Both Romney and Ryan fit this like a tailor-made shirt.

Since the Twitt made his decision to choose Lyin Ryan (as he is so aptly named by Jueseppi B., the Obamacrat….) I have watched as they have proceeded to alienate one group of voters after another. Women, Jews, Hispanics, Blacks, Asians, senior citizens (such as yours truly…), Catholics, immigrants (legal or not), and the entire middle class, all have been informed by these two idiots that they are not classed as citizens, and will have no rights under their administration…..

Watching these two destroy their own chances has been sort of entertaining; it would be more so if there weren’t so many ignorant bigots and racists out there who have thrown their support to the Daffy Duo, just because they are not black. The election has had at least one useful outcome thus far; it has shown us how far there is still to go until we can consider racism and bigotry things of the past. There are still too many folks out there who make all their decisions based on their prejudices, rather than on any type of reason.

It is unfortunate in the extreme that they can vote, and even more so that they do so regularly; the more educated and informed members of society often become discouraged, and do not vote, thinking that by doing so they are acting honorably, by not lending their support to either party. As far as it goes, this would be correct.

But they forget that the masses of ignorant voters don’t care, and will vote for ANYONE who promises to eliminate those things they fear, such as a Black man as President. In light of that, their unwillingness to adapt, and vote, becomes their downfall, and their shameful regret, as they are then saddled with disastrous leadership for four years….

I’m not going to rant for long this morning; it really isn’t necessary to carry this argument further. The point has been made, and it is this…. Get out there and vote, because if you don’t, there is real danger of losing ALL of our freedoms, as Romney and Ryan take this country back to the middle ages. If they get into the Oval Office, they will continue to rake in their millions, as they continue the rape and pillaging of the Bill of Rights, and bury the middle class under a mountain of tax and debt….. You can count on it….

“I would like to nominate a man who is honest and courageous. I’d like to, but this party doesn’t have one of them kind of people. My candidate does not know the meaning of the word “compromise,” does not know the meaning of the word “appeasement,” does not know the meaning of the word  “cowardice”–and has done quite well despite this lousy vocabulary. — Vaughn Meader
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That should take care of my ranting for a day or two…. and my need to rhyme, too. As I said above….. So be it.  Y’all take care out there, and May the Metaphorse be with you…..


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

gigoid

Dozer

Kowabunga!

Ferrets don’t elect their kings…..

Ffolkes,
“I’m dappled and dreary, and ready for sleep”  It’s odd that Paul Simon should know how I feel this morning… it’s even odder that I should feel like this after 8 or so hours of sleep. Aren’t we supposed to wake up with bursting energy, having filled our depleted stores through the miracle of sleep? I believe we are, so going through a whole night, and still needing rest, is somewhat discouraging, to say the least.

I’m so tired, I’m breaking the first rule of typing, taught to me so many years ago by Mr. Morgan, who always wore a pastel colored jumpsuit, a different shade for each day of the week…. You may take that information as you wish; I had to…. My typing class was on Wednesday during summer break, so we always got the same color to look at, this nauseating shade of lime sherbet (or less discreetly, vomit green)….

Any who, Mr. Morgan was big on posture and proper technique, so sitting straight and keeping one’s wrist arched over the keyboard were considered basic. I’m so tired this morning, and my back is so stiff and sore, I’m listing heavily to the right, and my wrists are resting on the edge of the laptop, moving the fingers without even lifting off where I’m leaning. Sitting straight is what I’d call an impossible dream for me, and leaning on one supportive arm or the other is now a basic rule-of-life to avoid major pain. So, Mr. Morgan can take his posture and technique, and firmly put them where the sun don’t shine….

I suppose I’m going to have to suck it up, and either go back to bed, returning later to finish this, or just get on with it. For now, we’ll push on, and hope we find a pocket of energy down the line a bit. Sometimes they hide….. and then pop up when not expected. Usually, it is at a good time, so I’ll trust to fate today (something I rarely do, deliberately…. as you may know from previous posts, I’m not big on believing that fate is written in stone, so I don’t give in to it very often….)  If this works, all well and good; if not, well,….. fuck it…. Shall we Pearl?…..

“Beware when the great God lets loose a thinker on this planet.” — Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803-1882), “Circles”
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Yesterday, I sat down in the afternoon to do some pearl diving, as my stash was getting low. Out of the first ten pearls offered up for my perusal, the following entries, all but one from Smart Bee itself, popped up one after another, just as if they were meant to be together. Upon rearranging the order slightly, I found them to be correct; together they make a fine little old-school pearl. So, without further ado, follow the bouncing thought bubble to the ending point, where you will find yourself in possession of a valuable piece of virtual wisdom…. or possibly, a great deal of confusion…. your choice, both are free of charge….

Although everyone is entitled to be stupid, some abuse this privilege. — Smart Bee

Keep the pointy end forward and the dirty side down. — Smart Bee

I’ll tell you what’s wrong with it, my lad.  It’s dead! — Smart Bee

Tomorrow & tomorrow & tomorrow creeps in this rutabaga… — Smart Bee

Ignorance of one’s ignorance is the greatest ignorance.– Smart Bee

“YOW!!  I’m in a very clever and adorable INSANE ASYLUM!!” — Zippy the Pinhead

I think the final line from Zippy punctuates the idea very well, ending not only with wisdom, but with two exclamation points to drive it home!!…. Such courteous service, you won’t find just anywhere…. Most bloggers would just abandon you, leaving you to figure stuff out on your own. But, not here at gigoid’s house.. we’re all about customer service….. I hope you enjoyed the ride; you may now go on to the next section…..
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Ogden Nash is one of my favorite poets, mainly for his sense of irreverence. Below you will find three poems that demonstrate his mastery in different ways. The second poem, Fleas, is considered to be the shortest poem ever written, and I believe it holds the Guinness Book of Records title for that category….. Enjoy!…..

A Caution To Everybody

Consider the auk;
Becoming extinct because he forgot how to fly, and could only walk.
Consider man, who may well become extinct
Because he forgot how to walk and learned how to fly before he thinked.
~~~~~~~~~
Fleas

Adam
Had’em
~~~~~~~~~
Listen…

There is a knocking in the skull,
An endless silent shout
Of something beating on a wall,
And crying, “Let me out!”

That solitary prisoner
Will never hear reply.
No comrade in eternity
Can hear the frantic cry.

No heart can share the terror
That haunts his monstrous dark.
The light that filters through the chinks
No other eye can mark.

When flesh is linked with eager flesh,
And words run warm and full,
I think that he is loneliest then,
The captive in the skull.

Caught in a mesh of living veins,
In cell of padded bone,
He loneliest is when he pretends
That he is not alone.

We’d free the incarcerate race of man
That such a doom endures
Could only you unlock my skull,
Or I creep into yours.

All three poems by Ogden Nash
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My search for pearls today keeps coming up with stuff more appropriate to the old style; nothing to rant about so far. But the following group of pearls does have a conclusion in mind, and for bonus points, you can tell me your thoughts on that in the comments section below…. good hunting!…. and don’t hurt yourself looking for the point; it won’t be on the quiz……

“I contend that we are both atheists. I just believe in one fewer god than you do. When you understand why you dismiss all the other possible gods, you will understand why I dismiss yours.” — Stephen Roberts

There is no ornament like virtue,
There is no misery like worry,
There is no protection like patience,
There is no friend equal to generosity.
— Nagarjuna (c. 100-200 A.D.)

When an Agnostic dies, does he go to the Great Perhaps? — Smart Bee, in sardonic mode, tongue firmly planted in cheek….

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

“Is this bullshit or fertilizer?” — Smart Bee

There you go….. hope you have as much fun with it as I did….. and, sorry, if my over-enthusiastic handling of the various parts has caused them to appear somewhat bedraggled…. they’ll fluff out in the sunshine….
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Six of one, half-dozen of the other….. that’s how it shakes down around here in the mornings…. This Pearl, though light on original material, feels like a good one, so I’m not going to even think about it….. Y’all take care out there, and May the Metaphorse be with you…..


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

gigoid

Dozer

Kowabunga!

It’s National Hand Grenade Day…..

Ffolkes,
As the clock struck noon, the moon rose majestically in the west. Farther on, the homeless hunters preyed upon a dilapidated group of sun worshiping bank clerks, while the maitre d’hotel shouted for more wine. Belatedly, a large, crimson cake was delivered to the kitchen door, unbeknownst to any of the appropriate managerial cadre. A heffalump charged the main desk, only to retreat at the first sign of snow from the chandeliers; no animals were harmed, or even challenged in the making of the video version. As quietly as possible, one of the late arrivals poured his quota of abuse, and ketchup, into the designated slot in the south wall. The band played on…..

Whew! Writing absolute nonsense is harder than it looks from the other side. No way in hell am I going to take THAT one any further! It about twisted me up into knots as it is; trying to create more of it would put me in bed for days. But, every once in a while, I just have to get that stuff out of my head, before it takes over and makes me write poetry, or something equally frightening. Of late, the poems I’ve written haven’t been too bad, but if this kind of stuff got added into the mix, there’s no telling what might happen. The universe itself could come to a crashing halt, or split in two, or something, and I have no desire to cause a rift in space/time…

My head feels lighter though, and that is a good thing. It always feels better out than in, and there is less extraneous angst to deal with; always a bonus, in my mind. Since we seem to have some good omens for it (though I’m not superstitious at all, of course….) we should probably head right into the regularly scheduled program….. Shall we Pearl?…..
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“No law can be sacred to me but that of my nature.  Good and bad are but names very readily transferable to that or this; the only right is what is after my own constitution; the only wrong what is against it.” — Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803-1882)

I was about 15 or 16 years old when we first read this in English class, and I remember distinctly when it hit home. I was at home, studying the Essay on Self Reliance as homework. I remember how difficult it was to plow through Emerson’s style of writing, which is thick and convoluted; one must read slowly, and think about what has just been read, to fully ascertain the point he is making at the time. When I came across this line, and thought about it, I experienced an epiphany of understanding, and a lot of what he said in the essay became clear. Most simply put, he admonishes all to “Trust Yourself”…….

“I never submitted the whole system of my opinions to the creed of any party of men whatever, in religion, in philosophy, in politics or in anything else, where I was capable of thinking for myself.  Such an addiction is the last degradation of a free and moral agent. If I could not go to Heaven but with a party, I would not go there at all.” — Thomas Jefferson, Letter To Francis Hopkinson, Paris Mar. 13, 1789

Tom Jefferson lived prior to Emerson, but had a similar approach to life, and to thinking. Individualism could be said to be Jefferson’s God; to him, each man was responsible for making himself into what he wished to be, and the self-reliance so ably encouraged by Emerson came to him naturally. Though a Christian by choice, he constantly challenged the church authorities in his writing, accusing the priestly hierarchies of the same crimes I am chastising them for today, to wit: twisting the word of Jesus Christ, manipulation of the teachings, and power-seeking behaviors more suited to barbarian chieftains than priests. Tom saw clearly the need for the continued separation of church and state, as he firmly believed that combining the two would inevitably lead to the loss of liberty he feared, and for which he fought so hard.

As we can see today, he was right. He feared both the church leaders, and the bankers and corporations. He wrote on numerous occasions of his lack of trust in those entities, as he clearly saw that they were inimical to individual freedom, and would eventually try to subvert the liberties we enjoy, by slow encroachment. Guess what, ffolkes….. he was dead right. Between the “corporate personhood” enjoyed by the elite fat cats, and the brainwashing carried out on a daily basis by the churches, the public has been manipulated into willingly giving up many of their rights for the sake of feeling safe. And why do they fear for their safety? Why, because the politicians, supported by the preachers, have convinced them that the rest of the world is out to get them, and wants to take away what they have; for God’s sake, they’re heathens!…..

Much of the nonsense that is foisted upon the unsuspecting public would be less believable if more people believed as Emerson does, and made up their minds on their own. Instead, most folks give in to their laziness, and, unwilling to think for themselves, allow the preachers and pundits to fill their heads with lies and manipulations. This lack of personal responsibility is what is killing this country; only those who are unwary can be fooled. One who takes responsibility for themselves cannot be fooled in that manner, for they are aware of the machinations that others will attempt, and react accordingly….. One can only hope that Emerson’s essay on Self Reliance becomes a best seller again, and people awaken from their self-induced state of somnolence…..
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Lamenting Empathy, No Grace

Strange, strong, passions burn from within
Selling nothing short, nor out
Consumed, loudly, failing to mark the spin
Sad, resigned, in singular redoubt.

Fallow grounds for twisted seed
Become fated, grow, and die.
Experience never fills critical need
Save perhaps once, in ages gone by.

Shouting in severe, dulcet tone
Brittle, flaking, destiny floats away
Making noise, rattling the bone
Simple ageless fears held at bay.

We mask our illusions in faux belief
Tied to reality by matter of rote,
Send them postcards, without relief
Consecrated time, forever remote.

~~ gigoid
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The following has been edited for the ironically impaired……

“The craving for power which characterizes the governing class in every nation is hostile to any limitation of the national sovereignty.” — Albert Einstein (1879-1955)

I’ve been watching….. and I’ve come to the conclusion that the Republican bozos (Romney and Ryan) have neglected to consider one crucial factor in their tactical planning for the pre-election posturing done by both parties. That crucial aspect is commonly known as the Complete Asshole Factor….. This important principle is one that every successful candidate has learned to obey, while every loser in an election could be said to have neglected it, to their everlasting regret….

They’re assholes; they can’t help it. Complete assholes. They chose, years and years ago, to spend their lives pursuing their own selfish desires, to the exclusion of the rights and/or desires of anyone else, and the slimy stench that is produced by constantly spouting off the primary substance that issues from the area in question permeates everything they try to say or do. Often, since they HAVE learned to at least try to disguise it, they appear to be normal, reasonable men, but the smell always manages to come through, giving people the first clue as to the content of their speeches… If it looks like crap, smells like crap, and sounds like crap, it’s probably crap…..

“As scarce as truth is, the supply has always been in excess of the demand.” — Josh Billings

One might think, given the above, that the prospective political wannabees now touring the nation by bus, so the yokels can get a closer glimpse of them, would use at least a small portion of truth in their campaigns. But, from what I’ve seen so far, they have no intention of ever coming within shouting distance of the truth.

Unless, of course, one counts their statements about healthcare, women’s rights, human rights for LGBT citizens, immigrant rights, and Social Security; all of those are things they’ve promised to eliminate, and I think we can truthfully say they aren’t lying about those intentions. Of course, when asked about any of it in public, they hem and haw, and try to shuffle the question off with a distracting counter-attack of the questioner. so they don’t have to actually give an answer, knowing it would be a lie……

Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus (Never Tickle a Sleeping Dragon)  — Hogwarts School Motto

I have a feeling that Romney and Ryan have not remembered to take this into account. By their constant lying in public venues, they are actively tickling the dragon of outrage that sleeps in every patriot’s heart. Although this election is seeing a decrease in the number of young folks involved, I believe the actions of these two rogue pundits are becoming intrusive and obnoxious enough to awaken the largest dragon we have; the middle class, of all ages. Their constant stretching and bending of the truth, when they bother to address it at all, is becoming a rock in the shoe of the American people.

They have made statements that are guaranteed to lose the vote of seniors, women, gays and alternative lifestyle citizens, Jews, Muslims, Hispanics, animal rights activists, the poor and homeless; all of them have received notice that they will have no rights at all under the administration they are promising…. and I don’t think those folks are going to sit still for it….

Come November, I think the dragon will awaken, and will turn its dangerous attention to the Republican party’s blatant attempt to send our society back to the middle ages…. Romney and Ryan will learn the last part of the old statement about why one shouldn’t trouble dragons…. because to them, you are crunchy, and good with ketchup…..
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I have tried to live up to Ralph Waldo’s admonition today; all of the material created today is original, outside the attributed quotations. So be it…..  Y’all take care out there, and May the Metaphorse be with you…..


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

gigoid

Dozer

Kowabunga!

Hobbies and habits of wild mundanes….

Ffolkes,
Today promises to be interesting….. and I say that with some caution, lest it turn from merely interesting to INTERESTING, as in “oh what an interesting wound! Does it always bleed so heavily?” This is more like, “oh, what an interesting new book! I’ve always wanted to learn about that!”  Well, at least that is how I hope it transpires…. As you know, Murphy tends to hang around here in the mornings a lot, and things can go strange at any moment….

That being said, I want to make it clear…. I am a Whole Ass…. This is purely a subjective judgment, you understand; it has nothing to do with reality as a whole, and is only of concern because it can affect my writing, to a degree….. We won’t let that hinder us from getting on with the morning’s business, but I thought you should know, in case something I said comes out a bit harsh. I wouldn’t want you to think I’m like that all the time; I just do it well when I do…..  Just sayin’…..

I’ve been busy the last day or two, but have managed to find some pretty nice pearls, so I think we should cut this a bit short today, and get right into the meat of the matter…. besides, I’m still a bit light on stuff for this intro, so I’ll save what I have for another morning, when I don’t have so much material to work with….. So, shall we Pearl?…… (Gotta love that artistic license, as applied to grammar…..)
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All life is a conjugation of the verb “to eat” — Smart Bee

I’m not sure why, but I like this a lot….It isn’t true, of course, unless one is metaphorically literate, as we all are here at Exploring Consensual Reality. If one is clear on the power of metaphor, then it becomes a really good one-liner, both amusing and, in a strange way, true as the day is long. Unfortunately, it is also extremely subtle, in that one must look deeply into the meaning, past the normal, and into the layers below the surface before its truth becomes clear. Shallow thinkers need not apply…..

I find the above statement to be very eastern in its subtlety and depth, which leads me to think of other examples of this type of statement. There is possibly no better western interpretation of an eastern idea than this passage…..

“The world, Govinda, is not imperfect or slowly evolving along a long path to perfection. No, it is perfect at every moment; every sin already carries grace within it, all small children are potential old men, all sucklings have death within them, all dying people — eternal life. It is not possible for one person to see how far another is on the way; the Buddha exists in the robber and the dice player; the robber exists in the Brahmin. During deep meditation it is possible to dispel time, to see simultaneously all the past, present and future, and then everything is good, everything is perfect, everything is Brahman. Therefore, it seems to me that everything that exists is good–death as well as life, sin as well as holiness, wisdom as well as folly. Everything is necessary, everything needs only my agreement, my assent, my loving understanding; then all is well with me and nothing can hurt me. I learned through my body and soul that it was necessary for me to sin, that I needed lust, that I had to strive for property and experience nausea and the depths of despair in order to learn not to resist them, in order to learn to love the world, and no longer compare it with some kind of desired imaginary world, some imaginary vision of perfection, but to leave it as it is, to love it and be glad to belong to it. These, Govinda, are some of the thoughts that are in my mind.” — Hermann Hesse, _Siddartha_

Such passages as this have helped me to understand both sides of the concepts involved here, eastern and western alike…. It is one of only a few such pieces of literature, books that capture the essence of what is in the eastern view of reality, stating it in the words of our western culture, thus helping us to understand ideas that our culture approaches much differently. When one reaches a certain level of understanding, then passages such as the following become not only words of beauty and elegance, but words of depth, bringing a new level of comprehension to our minds….

“The sages of old were mysterious and profound. We cannot fathom their thoughts, so all we do is describe their appearance.

Aware, like a fox crossing the water.
Alert, like a general on the battlefield.
Kind, like a hostess greeting her guests.
Simple, like uncarved blocks of wood.
Opaque, like black pools in darkened caves.

Who can tell the secrets of their hearts and minds?

The answer exists only in the Tao.”–Tao Teh Ching

From either source, east or west, the search of inner peace begins in understanding, and for understanding one must “eat words”….. and learn how to conjugate…..
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Blackberrying

Nobody in the lane, and nothing, nothing but blackberries,
Blackberries on either side, though on the right mainly,
A blackberry alley, going down in hooks, and a sea
Somewhere at the end of it, heaving. Blackberries
Big as the ball of my thumb, and dumb as eyes
Ebon in the hedges, fat
With blue-red juices. These they squander on my fingers.
I had not asked for such a blood sisterhood; they must love me.
They accommodate themselves to my milkbottle, flattening their sides.

Overhead go the choughs in black, cacophonous flocks—
Bits of burnt paper wheeling in a blown sky.
Theirs is the only voice, protesting, protesting.
I do not think the sea will appear at all.
The high, green meadows are glowing, as if lit from within.
I come to one bush of berries so ripe it is a bush of flies,
Hanging their bluegreen bellies and their wing panes in a Chinese screen.
The honey-feast of the berries has stunned them; they believe in heaven.
One more hook, and the berries and bushes end.

The only thing to come now is the sea.
From between two hills a sudden wind funnels at me,
Slapping its phantom laundry in my face.
These hills are too green and sweet to have tasted salt.
I follow the sheep path between them. A last hook brings me
To the hills’ northern face, and the face is orange rock
That looks out on nothing, nothing but a great space
Of white and pewter lights, and a din like silversmiths
Beating and beating at an intractable metal.

~~  Sylvia Plath

I’ve never read any of the poetry of Sylvia Plath, but I have a feeling I’ll be reading a lot more of it…. Enjoy!
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Here is what I call a synthetic pearl…. I realized just a moment ago that I haven’t ranted in a few days, about either of my favorite targets, victims, subjects, politics and religion. I’m running very late, for me, and I don’t really have the energy to give a rant my best. Instead, I give you two brilliant pearls on the subject, followed by a statement of conclusion, in the form of a pair of questions, from Lao Tzu…. If this doesn’t stimulate some brain cells, then I’m afraid I have bad news for you…. you died yesterday, and forgot to clock out….. For those who are still present, and conscious, I give you this beautiful, yet not organic, but, rather, synthetic pearl, finely crafted in the cavernous, well-equipped laboratory I call my mind….

“And don’t tell me God works in mysterious ways”, Yossarian continued, “There’s nothing mysterious about it, He’s not working at all. He’s playing. Or else He’s forgotten all about us. That’s the kind of God you people talk about, a country bumpkin, a clumsy, bungling, brainless, conceited, uncouth hayseed. Good God, how much reverence can you have for a Supreme Being who finds it necessary to include such phenomena as phlegm and tooth decay in His divine system of Creation? What in the world was running through that warped, evil, scatological mind of His when He robbed old people of the power to control their bowel movements? Why in the world did He ever create pain?” — Joseph Heller, Catch22

“Some writers have so confounded society with government, as to leave little or no distinction between them; whereas they are not only different, but have different origins.  Society is produced by our wants, and government by our wickedness; the former promotes our happiness *positively*, by uniting our affections, the latter *negatively*, by restraining our vices. The one encourages intercourse, the other creates distinctions.  The first is a patron, the last is a punisher. Society in every state is a blessing, but government even in its best state is but a necessary evil; in its worst state an intolerable one….” — Thomas Paine, opening lines of _Common Sense_ 1776 — *asterisks denote Paine’s use of italics*

“Do you have the patience to wait till your mud settles and the water is clear? Can you remain unmoving till the right actions arises by itself?” — Lao Tzu
___________________________________

The above posting may seem like insignificant rubbish at first glance, but if you read between the lines, you will be surprised to discover the annals of Burt Bacharach, world peace, Oxford Advanced Readers Dictionary, quantum physics made easy, and an easy-to-use step-by-step walk-through on how to make a time traveling device that actually works. — DISCLAIMER

I am almost certain that I can’t possibly create any more confusion, or inflict any more damage today, so my work here is done. Y’all take care out there, and May the Metaphorse be with you…..


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

gigoid

Dozer

Kowabunga!

The rules call for wearing magic knickers….

Ffolkes,
I am damned. In fact, I am damned by God Himself…. He told me Himself, back when we were kids together in Jerusalem, oh, two or so thousand years ago…. You see, we didn’t get along very well. Our families lived in different parts of town; His was from the Golan Heights district, up there where all the priests, and political figures, and all the other rich folks lived. Mine lived downtown as far as you could go; the river was my backyard…… He called himself Yeshua back then; what I am called doesn’t matter any more…. but you can call me by the name I am known by in history books…. you can call me Judas…..

Well, that would certainly make for a decent story…. easy to write, too, as a lot of the action has already been covered by history and religious books, so I could pick and choose what stories to include…. all, of course, looked at through my mind’s filter, and twisted just right to fit into the story line….. It would probably be fun to write, but it might not be the best activity I could choose from a karmic standpoint…. Many ffolkes consider it rude to make fun of religions, and, concurrently, making fun of their constituents.

Me, I enjoy it. The stiff, prudish people who make such complaints are, in my mind, the perfect targets for such barbed humor, as they have chosen to have no sense of humor, and are a pain in the ass to be around, for anyone with more than two functional brain cells…..


But, that’s all just camouflage, this morning, anyway….

The truth is, I’m out of material…. can’t think of a damn thing to write about, and Smart Bee isn’t cooperating. I spent a half-hour last night searching for some pearls for this morning, and could only come up with more Shakespeare BS couplets for my growing collection. It’s beginning to look as if I’ll have to break down and use….. no, I won’t do it. I won’t go to my last resort….. It can’t be THAT bad yet. I refuse to go there….

Instead, we’ll just go diving, and hope for the best…. shall we Pearl?…..
___________________________________

Unwrapped Morning

A jewel of deepest green, sparkles by firelight
Held fast by time, and space
Leaves only passive passion, pale and bright
Naught but grief, yet but a trace.

In morning’s bright parlor, burning for hate
Unspent moments fall, seeking pain
Spilling blood forlornly, cowed by fate
Left with nothing, life in vain.

Pallid purpose calls, to that fallow ground
In bold fashions, aflame
Conscience falls aside, value unbound
Death calls, forever lost, the game……

gigoid

Hmm…. not too bad, all in all. It certainly ripped out a piece of my soul, and laid it out there for all to see….. and if nothing else, it counts as a pearl…..  🙂
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Here we have an old school pearl, on a subject which, though not near and dear to my heart, is nevertheless often in the forefront of my awareness, such as it is…. Aging gracefully in a world designed to prevent any such dignified efforts….. let’s see what Smart Bee and his cronies have to say about it…..

“I don’t want to be young again, I just don’t want to get any older.” — Smart Bee

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

“He’s so old his blood type was discontinued.” — Bill Dana

Remote from cities liv’d a swain,
Unvex’d with all the cares of gain;
His head was silver’d o’er with age,
And long experience made him sage.
— John Gay (1688-1732) — Fables, Part i, The Shepherd and the Philosopher

“The tragedy of life is not that it ends so soon, but that we wait so long to begin it.” — Smart Bee

“A desire not to butt into other people’s business is at least eighty percent of all human wisdom… and the other twenty percent isn’t very important.”
“You butt into other people’s business.  All the time.”
“Who said I was wise?  I’m a professional bad example.  You can learn a lot by watching me.”
— Lazarus Long, from Stranger in a Strange Land, Robert A. Heinlein

And what, pray tell, has attaining this advanced age brought in the way of wisdom?  Just this…..

“Just smile and nod. You’ll get through a lot of life that way.” — Richard Langellotti
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Okay, since I’m not finding anything in Smart Bee, we’ll go lazy….. here are some pictures of cats, found on Facebook, that are pretty self-explanatory…..


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This may be the laziest Pearl ever….. other than the poem, which is always a painful process, I’ve pretty much avoided any of the usual long-winded rants and/or essays that are staple for the normal state of events here. This could be a good thing….. I guess we’ll see…. Y’all take care out there, and May the Metaphorse be with you…..


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

gigoid

Dozer

Kowabunga!

We’ll gate crash the Vatican….

Ffolkes,
Once again, the WordPress community stepped up, and came through to help when someone asked…. My mild whining yesterday morning, regarding site statistics, prompted my regular readers to respond with a veritable avalanche of support and intelligent, compassionate advice. Virtually all of the regulars, minus a couple, commented on yesterday’s post, and all of them were positive, and encouraging. This is, I think, the third or fourth time I’ve had this happen, when I’ve asked a question in the intro,  or commented on a difficulty I was experiencing with my blog, or my life…. each time, the ffolkes who read here often, took the time to comment, with answers and emotional support… it’s actually a very humbling experience.

So, I want to take a moment here to say a big, huge thank you to the ffolkes who wrote in yesterday…. Coming to blog at WordPress has been not only beneficial for that part of me that has to write, and the part that has to read, but also for my heart and soul, simply because of the people like you all who also participate in the WP community. It is people like you who will end up saving this sad old world, if it can be done, with your intelligence, your compassion, and your willingness to spend the effort to help your fellow man, without any thought of reward or gain, merely out of the passion in your heart. I am humbled, often, at your giving natures, and consider it a huge honor to call all of you Friend….

With that said, I should probably start diving for pearls, before I start blubbering like a baby…. my PTSD will do that sometimes, embarrassing me to death by making me burst into tears in the middle of a conversation….. quite degrading to the soul…. rather than have that happen, we will go now to the WWW to start our search… which could take a while, as I don’t have anything saved up, other than some Shakespeare…. hmm, maybe a bit of flaying his hide will serve….. Shall we Pearl?…..

Asking for aid here
always brings hope and advice.
Empowering friends.

gigoid

“Is that you reading me, or is that me being written?” — Smart Bee
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“We are inclined to confuse freedom and democracy, which we regard as moral principles, with the way in which these are practiced in America — with capitalism, federalism and the two-party system, which are not moral principles, but simply the accepted practices of the American people.” — Sen. James J. William Fulbright

I remember this Fulbright guy…. he was still spouting off when I was a teenager. I don’t recall any particularly strong feelings of approval at what I heard then from him, other than the normal disdain with which I greeted almost all politics back then. But, what he says here appeals to my current self much more than what I remember from back then. This is a very accurate description of reality in American politics, and the condition of the world in which we now find ourselves can be attributed in large part to this observation’s veracity….

The beloved ruling class has been pounding the minds of the public with manipulative lies for a very long time, and it can be a difficult task to separate the truth and the lies they put out at such an alarming rate. In addition, even doing so is made more difficult by the derisive attacks they make on anyone who dares to question their lies. It’s typical for them to call anyone who questions them a Communist, or a Socialist, or some other -ist, which they think is evil whenever their lies are exposed. Or, like dear Mitt the Twitt said the other day, the people who want to see his taxes are “small minded”… the names they use don’t matter, as they are only calculated to draw attention away from the lies that are being exposed to the light of day….

“The liberal of any species is always more dangerous — because he always seems so much more rational.” — Solomon Short

This statement from Mr. Short is also perceptive, describing accurately the danger of listening to ANY politician…. even the most liberal pundit, by the act of seeking office, gives away their true purpose, not to help the downtrodden, but to gain power and influence for themselves…. They are more dangerous because their lies are designed to make the public believe that they are acting in their interests, looking out for the little guy, when in reality, they are just picking the little guy’s pocket…..

Reduce taxes on rich = trickle down prosperity. — Conservative idea #4

Never cooperate with conservatives. — Liberal Rule #34

Taken together, these two little aphorisms show why, or rather, how, it can be a confusing task to sort the truth from the lies that are served up on a daily basis. Both of these are true, in at least one sense, yet both are also outright lies, made up to demean the opposing party’s position and reputation. It’s kind of funny actually, because not only are these lies, but they are lies that can be fitted to either side like a tailor-made suit. To my way of thinking, both liberals and conservatives are wrong, so it’s easier for me to tell when they are lying…. quite easy, in fact…. if their mouth is open, they’re lying, count on it…..

“Humankind cannot stand very much reality.” — T.S. Eliot

This, from our old friend T.S., can be considered to be a fact, even a natural law, and for proof, just go back and read any historical treatise from any century. It has always been clear, especially to the beloved ruling class, that most folks have no real desire to deal with reality as it is…. they would much rather have it behave as they would like it to do. This tendency toward mental sloth is well-known to our rulers, and they exploit it mercilessly….

The political pundits are constantly telling the public what they want to hear, even though that has nothing to do with what will really take place when they are elected. The weird, sad part for me is that the public falls for it all so easily, and the rapacious and the greedy are constantly rewarded with new terms in Washington D.C., or London, or Sydney, or wherever in the world the election may take place…. If it weren’t so damn depressing, it might be entertaining….

“George Washington said to his father, “If I never tell a lie, how can I get to be President?” — Red Buttons

In any culture, one can ascertain the true state of the society by listening to the comedians…. Red Buttons wasn’t known particularly for his political humor, but with this one he struck closer to home than he knew. Right from the very start of this country, the bankers and the rich have conspired to control the government, and have been singularly effective in that quest. Even the stated fears of the founding fathers were not sufficient to keep them from insinuating themselves into the political process at every level, manipulating the laws, and the courts, to establish themselves as the true rulers of this country. Nobody gets elected who isn’t supposed to be, for they won’t willingly give away any of the control they have gained over time, and the surest way to guarantee that control is to control the elections….

“There cannot be a nation of millionaires, and there never has been a nation of Utopian comrades; but there have been any number of nations of tolerably contented peasants.” — G. K. Chesterton, Outline of Sanity CW. V. 192

SIGH…. I don’t know…. it’s all so tacky! G.K. has probably got it right, but I don’t think I want to settle for tolerable contentment. I can stand a bit more excitement than that, I hope. I’m just so tired of having to watch, as society dumbs itself down further and further with every election, sending the worst possible candidates into the spotlight, and making all of us who want more from life nervous at having to spend another four to eight years keeping our heads down and our defensive strategies up-to-date… I know I am, and I don’t even care much about politics (you wouldn’t know it, by how much I write about it….). Ah well, at least we’ve got cable TV, and the Internet…..

“Politics is poopadoodle!” — Fred the Bird, from Odds Bodkins
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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

“….. is a joy for ever.”  Truer words were never written, and now I know the origin of the phrase…. true serendipity….  🙂    Enjoy!
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“A can of ASPARAGUS, 73 pigeons, some LIVE ammo, and a FROZEN DAQUIRI!!” — Zippy the Pinhead

At last…. I may have been looking for this all my life. Or not. Either way, it has just jumped into my head, and established itself as the proper combination of plot ingredients for my new book of fiction. What a delightful set of possibilities are opened up by these four little metaphors-to-be! It’s enough to make a grown man sniffle in joy…. Here, watch this….

“It was hot. Damn hot, and the frozen daiquiri looked as cool and refreshing as the smile of the girl who served it. I watched appreciatively as she bent to set it down, giving in to the tempting invitation to gaze at her….. face.   🙂   Just as I was about to ask her where I could get some live ammo, I was distracted by a huge rushing sound, as if an entire flock of pigeons had begun to circle my head; it sounded like at least 73 of them…. I couldn’t be sure. It might have been only 71; it was a very loud bar. Bending my head to read the menu, I had gotten no further than, “We proudly serve canned asparagus” when my cell phone rang….”

There, now isn’t that riveting? And that was just one outline…. using another outline, putting the metaphors in different order, will give me at least 12 other plot lines, no sweat. I love it when a plan comes together, especially when there was no plan. It just dropped right into my lap….. Uh oh…. I just realized something….. Dropped into my lap…. by whom? Shit. I was so damn pleased at finding such a brilliant stimulus package, I forgot to examine it for traces of Murphy…. Hang on a moment while I run this through the wonk-o-meter….. It will only take a minute; it warms up fast….

I should have known….. This has Murphy’s mark all over it. Damn! Now if I use it, it will end up causing me no end of controversy and embarrassment…. SFPCCC!  (They’re swear words… you don’t want to know…..)  Just when I thought I was done…. True to his habit, and his nature, Murphy has waited for just the right moment to slip this into my head, right when I was primed to not look at it too closely….. Whew! I dodged a big bullet that time! I’m glad I caught it before it went any further… my keyboard would probably have exploded the next time I wrote something that used it as a basis for a plot. Ah well, it was enough to count as the pearl for this section, so I guess all’s well that ends well…..

Though I am young, I scorn to flit
On the wings of borrowed wit.
— George Wither (1588-1667) — The Shepherd’s Hunting
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Well, this is another one…. it’s not like the other one. Much…..I hope….. Y’all take care out there, and May the Metaphorse be with you…..


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

gigoid

Dozer

Kowabunga!

Shadow dancing under Northern Lights….

Ffolkes,
Here is how it works…. I talk, you listen. When I’m done, you comment, or not. If you like it, you hit the button. Afterward, we both go our separate ways…… Put like that, this blogging scene doesn’t come off as particularly attractive, does it? Not a whole lot of human interaction going on there, or any kind of connection between minds. The entire process, looked at from this viewpoint, doesn’t seem to be of much value, leaving out, as it does, all of the passionate emotions that permeate human activity of any kind. Without a connection to what we feel about anything, it loses a lot of the value that we put on those things…..

It’s funny…. WordPress tells me I have 161 WP followers of my blog, with another 30 registered for commenting. Yet, my most viewed and liked piece over the last couple of months runs about 10-12 Likes, with only a few comments. Now, I don’t know how to look at that, or how to feel about it. Should I be encouraged because of what is there, or should I be discouraged? I have no way to compare those figures to those of other blogs, so I’m not sure whether what I’m seeing is typical, or not. Without such data, I can form no conclusions…. frustrating, a  bit….

I answer every comment that someone puts on my posts, so there is a certain amount of connection. However, those comments are only from 6-8 regular contributors, and I typically see the same 6-8 folks on a lot of the blogs I read. I love the interaction, but I wish it was more, so I knew one way or another how people are reacting to what I write…. When I visit the blogs of others, I try to comment much of the time, to let the ffolkes know I read it, and thought about it….. but, this doesn’t seem to drive much traffic to my site, regardless of how much I say….

Ah well, much of the world operates the same way…. we do what we do, and the world pretty much ignores us. So, I guess I shouldn’t feel too badly that folks aren’t paying much attention to what I say…. they never have before, so I can’t expect that to change, just because I’d like it to…. c’est la vie….. It’s probably a good thing that writing this remains as much therapy for me, as much as it is designed for others to read…. with that in mind, shall we Pearl?…..
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“It is now some years since I detected how many were the false beliefs that I had believed to be true since my earliest youth.  And since that time, I have been convinced that I must once and for all seriously try to rid myself of all the opinions which I had formerly accepted, and begin to build anew, if I wanted to establish any firm and permanent structure for my beliefs.” — Rene Descartes, Meditations.

For some, reality is an illusion. — Smart Bee

Or, as I’ve said before, reality can be, and usually is, a slippery slope…. Philip K. Dick’s statement is still the best all-around attempt to describe the indescribable; he said, “Reality is that which, when you stop believing in it, doesn’t go away.”  Perfect, as far as I can see; I’m near-sighted physically, but I can see a very long way when I close my eyes…..

At the same time, Mssr. Descartes most famous declaration on the subject, “Cogito, ergo sum,” (I think, therefore, I am) remains the most eloquent and complete logical proof that Dittoheads do not exist, at least not in the reality of anyone who reasons. ‘Tis unfortunate indeed that such folk occupy actual space in consensual reality, but, then, I’m not in charge of anything outside my own mind, technically…..

“Therefore, be ye lamps unto yourselves, be a refuge to yourselves. Hold fast to Truth as a lamp; hold fast to the truth as a refuge. Look not for a refuge in anyone beside yourselves. And those, who shall be a lamp unto themselves, shall betake themselves to no external refuge, but holding fast to the Truth as their lamp, and holding fast to the Truth as their refuge, they shall reach the topmost height.” — Buddha

Trust the Buddha to find the heart of the matter, and point the way to an answer of how to keep reality in perspective, This grants us the greatest amount of space and time to adjust ourselves accordingly, since adjusting ourselves is all we can really do to reality. A sure path to insanity is to believe that anything other than ourselves can be changed by our own power. We can only “hold fast to Truth” and accept the rest with as much serenity as we can muster…..

“The real in us is silent; the acquired is talkative.” — Kahlil Gibran

And on that note, we will bring this to a close…. it’s probably as close as we can get to a true mutual understanding of reality, so any further discussion would border on superfluousness. (I can’t believe it! Spellchecker says that I spelled that right!…. Now I KNOW it’s time to close this….)  Stay real, my friends…..
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I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings

The free bird leaps
on the back of the win
and floats downstream
till the current ends
and dips his wings
in the orange sun rays
and dares to claim the sky.

But a bird that stalks
down his narrow cage
can seldom see through
his bars of rage
his wings are clipped and
his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings
with fearful trill
of the things unknown
but longed for still
and is tune is heard
on the distant hillfor the caged bird
sings of freedom

The free bird thinks of another breeze
an the trade winds soft through the sighing trees
and the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright lawn
and he names the sky his own.

But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing

The caged bird sings
with a fearful trill
of things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom.

Maya Angelou

I have only recently been introduced to the poetry of Ms. Angelou, but what I’ve seen has placed her high on my list of favorite poets. In addition to the power and beauty of what she writes, the subject matter she often chooses is very close to my heart, i.e. freedom…. I’m a sucker for a revolutionary woman….. Enjoy!
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This pearl consists of a series of statements from Smart Bee (meaning they were found without attribution….). The statements form an old-school pearl, all pointing in a particular direction…. the test is to see where they lead you, and whether or not that is where they will lead others…. At the end, there will be one last pearl, which generally is the best indicator of where the rest have been pointing…. just let your mind go, and allow the pearls to point the way….

Definition of Terror: A female Klingon with PMS. — Smart Bee

If you can believe ten impossible things before breakfast, then you should join: The Church of Counterfactual Belief.  The Church of Counterfactual Belief has been set up to cater to all who don’t allow demonstrable truth to get in the way of their beliefs. In addition to creation science and the flatness of the earth, the following beliefs have been certified by Pope Duane as Church dogma: that there is a hole in the Earth at the North Pole from which UFOs come. That pi equals precisely 3.000.  That sex can be enjoyed only by blacks and homosexuals.  That Billy Joe Wilson (Hoopla, Miss.) has successfully squared the circle. That Harry Truman is still president, and doing a fine job.  That pi equals precisely 22/7. Several other important counterfactual beliefs are presently being studied, including Reaganomics, A.I., and that the moon landings were done in a Hollywood special effects studio. These will be the subject of a forthcoming Papal Bull… — Smart Bee

You will be surprised by a loud noise. — Smart Bee

Don’t need to be born again – Did it right the 1st time. — Smart Bee

When a person brags about his ancestors, the best part of him is underground. — Smart Bee

You buttered your bread, now lie in it. — Smart Bee

“Well, it’s no use your talking about waking him,” said Tweedeldum, “when you’re only one of the things in his dream. You know very well you’re not real.”
“I am real!” said Alice, and began to cry.
“You won’t make yourself a bit realer by crying,” Tweedledee remarked: “there’s nothing to cry about.”
“If I wasn’t real,” Alice said- half laughing through her tears, it all seemed so ridiculous- “I shouldn’t be able to cry.”
“I hope you don’t think those are real tears?” Tweeldedee interrupted in a tone of great contempt. — Lewis Carroll, in Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland

Okay, I lied…. the last one isn’t a Smart Bee quote. But, it still points the way to the desired end point, so it will do quite nicely for our purposes. We may now return to our regularly scheduled program….
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As we come to the end of another day’s effort, we look back with some trepidation to see what has been wrought…. Not too shabby, I should say….. It will have to do…. Y’all take care out there, and May the Metaphorse be with you…..


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

gigoid

Dozer

Kowabunga!