Tag Archives: Philosophy

Fluffy bags of pineapple chips….

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Ffolkes,
It is always interesting to me to see what kind of nonsense I can come up with for this introduction, especially on mornings like this, when I wake up with more pain than normal. It’s a Catch-22 situation, sort of, where, if I sleep well, I sleep longer, the medication level in my blood decreases, and I wake up in pretty severe pain. If I don’t sleep well, I take the meds during the night, and wake up with less pain. Six of one, half a dozen of the other, I guess….

I gotta say, the other way is better, because this sucks; I feel like I’m pushing through a haze just to think. And, as is apparent, it has affected my writing, as I seem to be stuck in personal complaint mode…. fuck it, I’m taking an extra pill, and waiting for it to hit…. see ya in a while….

“Once upon a time, I dreamed of becoming a great man. Later, a good man. Now, finally, I find it difficult enough and honor enough to be–a man.” — Edward Abbey

If one is patient, if one can look long enough, a pearl to fit any situation will appear….. A bit less grouchy & whiny now, I’m ready to dive into the WWW to look for some pearls. Provided, of course, that Murphy isn’t hanging about, looking for some way to further complicate matters….. Shall we Pearl?…..

“If reality wants to get in touch, it knows where I am.” — Smart Bee
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And Thought leapt out to wed with Thought
Ere Thought could wed itself with Speech.
— Alfred Tennyson (1809-1892) — In Memoriam, xxiii, Stanza 4

Boy, this one would be really useful, if only we could get a few political pundits to buy into the concept….. It seems that the Republicans have decided to take the low road to November for the time being. Their presumptive candidate, Mitt the Twitt, has been extremely reserved in the last few days, both in his speech and his appearances. I’m fairly certain he got the word from the true power brokers, the bankers who finance his program, to keep his stupid mouth shut, unless he spoke exactly what they told him to say. He hasn’t responded ad lib for weeks now, and that is just not in his nature; it has to be a learned behavior on his part.

Now, while this is good for all of us, to not have to listen to his egregious lying every day, it is a dangerous sign for the country. Without really saying much of anything substantial, the Twitt has garnered support from a large segment of ignorant fundamentalists and ultra-conservatives, a fairly substantial block of votes, and is now being very careful not to alienate them, a habit of his proven in the primaries…. These people will support him, as long as they believe he will bring religious mania to the job, so he is saying nothing to disabuse them of that perception….

But, time is on the Democrats side this time. The Twitt is a master doofus, for certain, and has no idea, nothing at all in his head, that comes near the thought above by Lord Alfred. When he speaks off the cuff, he repeatedly resorts to his congenital tendency toward untruth in almost every sentence. If he doesn’t know an answer, he makes it up, and there are a LOT of answers he doesn’t know. As a matter of fact, he has, no doubt, been told by his handlers not to answer ad lib queries at all, using distraction and referral to keep from directly addressing such approaches, because every time he does, the extent of his ignorance becomes ever clearer…..

No, I don’t think the Twitt will be able to stand up to the scrutiny that is coming. Once the conventions are done, and the formal candidates begin their campaigns, the flaws that are so apparent to me in his makeup will come to light in the harsh glare of public examination, and will, I have no fear, be found wanting….. The degree to which he resorts to lies and misinformation is obvious, and not even the American public will stand for someone who lies so badly……
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“The folly of mistaking a paradox for a discovery, a metaphor for a proof, a torrent of verbiage for a spring of capital truths, and oneself for an oracle, is inborn in us.” — Paul Valery, 1895

I like this…. it is a powerful insight into human nature. But that is not why I like it…. I like it because it proves itself; it is perfectly tautological, for he fulfills the accuracy of his contention by the act of stating it. I also like it because it takes a perfectly simple idea, and complicates it unmercifully, torturing the poor thing until it is crying out for surcease. I mean, how hard can it be to understand, “I think we’re all Bozos on this Bus!”, which, you will please note, says the exact same thing as mssr. Valery?……

Nothing draws the attention of society faster than a good, big mistake, and it is natural for all humans to make the biggest mistakes we can manage. Sorry, but it’s just the way we are, and it’s always been that way. The smartest ffolkes learn to put on a big, red nose and make the best of it. Many others, not so sanguine, try to deny it, and become fundamentalists, seemingly born with no sense of humor at all. A lot of folks try to ignore the entire subject, and end up getting caught often “with their pants down”, a common phrase that indicates how well the language accurately portrays the concept….

“Blessed is he who has learned to laugh at himself, for he shall never cease to be entertained.” — John Powell

I’ve found the easiest, and most effective, method for dealing with this part of our nature is to embrace it. To accept our bozoid tendencies and utilize them to my advantage, both by recognizing it in others, and by appreciating it within myself. Nothing is more liberating, or more cleansing to the spirit, than a good laugh at one’s own expense….. and finding those moments of laughter are easier than can be imagined, once one learns to let that side of their nature free. The Universe at large is very silly, in many ways, and welcomes bozoid behavior with open arms…. After all, we are the stars of our own show, and we can write the script however we like…..

“Should I do my BOBBIE VINTON medley?” — Zippy the Pinhead
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Haiku’s inventor
must have had seven fingers
on his middle hand.
— Smart Bee

Bonus pearl…. it’s just so perfect! Logical, precise structure, and irony, all in one…. beautiful….. Then there is this…..

The only problem
with Haiku is that you just
get started and then
— Smart Bee

Sorry, it won’t happen again…..
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A Drunken Man’s Praise Of Sobriety

Come swish around, my pretty punk,
And keep me dancing still
That I may stay a sober man
Although I drink my fill.

Sobriety is a jewel
That I do much adore;
And therefore keep me dancing
Though drunkards lie and snore.
O mind your feet, O mind your feet,
Keep dancing like a wave,
And under every dancer
A dead man in his grave.
No ups and downs, my pretty,
A mermaid, not a punk;
A drunkard is a dead man,
And all dead men are drunk.

William Butler Yeats

I had a yen for Yeats….  🙂
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It has been said that “true freedom is the release from pain”, and I am here to tell you, it is gospel truth. It is astounding how differently one looks at life and the world when not filtered through a haze of pain. It makes one almost want to break out in song in praise of biochemistry and drugs, but I don’t think I’ll scare the neighbors like that just now….. All in all, it didn’t turn out too badly, I think, so, we’re off to publish…. 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!

Broken vicars fixed while you wait….

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Ffolkes,
We don’t really fix the vicars, we just use a lot of duct tape to hold them together until they can get back up to the pulpit. The only real fix for them is a complete change of heart, and that is beyond my powers. Knowing my predilection for dissing preachers, you might wonder why I set up shop to fix them….Simple…. it’s easy money….

They break all the damn time, and the congregations will pay well to keep their blinders in place. I figured, since they give me such a pain all the time, I ought to get something out of having to deal with them. And duct tape is relatively cheap, compared to the time & energy it would take to perform any really effective brainwash, whether that wash is to clean it up & free it, or to increase control over it. Either way is harder than applying a layer of DT, and my travel fund gets fatter this way….  Our motto is, “If it’s not broke, let me take a crack at it”…..

So, if you know of any broken vicars, just have them sent over…. we’ll take care of them, and give them exactly what they need….. honest!….  Okay, silliness over….. The title line today kind of tickled me, and I thought I’d expand the idea a bit…. It’s a bit less pointedly cruel than I had hoped, but we need to get on with finding some pearls, so the duct tape treatment will have to suffice.

Perhaps a bit of water-boarding next time, just to assuage that blood thirst I know I get whenever I get a real live vicar in my shop…. Yeah, that’s the ticket, give them a taste of what they say is coming for us if we don’t toe the dogmatic line…. I like it, it is justice incarnate…. Mankind has a lot of sorrow and pain to pay them back for, to my way of thinking….

Well, before this turns into a rant instead of an intro, perhaps we’d best get our gear on and hit the water…. Shall we Pearl?….
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“Hateful to me as are the gates of hell, is he who, hiding one thing in his heart, utters another.” — Homer (c. 700 B.C.)

I was reminded of this line yesterday when I read how Mitt Romney had responded to President Obama’s announcement regarding the change in immigration policy, to stop deporting a certain class of people working to become citizens. His response, or more accurately, his lack of expected response, points out one of his secondary lines of defense against telling the truth, to wit, saying nothing when there is something that should be said….

The new policy means that young people who were brought to the US, and now are law-abiding, hard-working people who are merely unnaturalized legally, will NOT be deported, but instead will be assisted to achieve their naturalization as citizens. It is the only real humane way to deal with the situation, and is a good step in the direction of humane immigration policies.

In the past, Mr. Romney has repeatedly expressed his views on this issue, stating clearly that he disagreed with it, and would not approve of such changes…. he wants them all to be deported, and has said so in the past, in speaking to conservative groups of voters…..

“People who don’t Think probably don’t have Brains; rather, they have grey fluff that’s blown into their heads by mistake.” — Pooh’s Little Instruction Book, inspired by A. A. Milne

Now that the POTUS has instituted this policy, which is strongly supported by a large percentage of the voting populace, Mitt has nothing to say against it. He merely stated he doesn’t agree, but would not commit himself so far as to say he would stop the program if he were elected…. In other words, he lied his bloody head off…..

“I’d like to ram a hunk of fried goat cheese straight up his ass.” — A wonderful line from MYSTIC PIZZA

Now that he has confirmed his position as the likely Republican candidate in November, to run against the POTUS, his handlers have instructed him to shut his flapping lips, not wanting to take the chance that any of his actual thoughts or opinions would get found out by the voters he is desperately trying to convince of his qualifications.

They don’t want him to prove the old saw about proving himself to be a fool by opening his mouth & removing all doubt….. Like any political entity, their response is to have him lie by omission, rather than his usual method, which consists generally of just making something up, no matter how unreal or absurdly false it may be…..

It’s going to be an interesting campaign, I think…. the trick will be to figure out which side is telling the lies that will help us the most, or more accurately, hurt us the least…. These days, that is about the best we can hope for, given the field of compulsive liars we have from which to choose….. After all,

It is difficult to legislate morality in the absence of moral legislators. — Smart Bee
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“Humanity has in the course of time had to endure from the hands of science two great outrages upon its naive self-love.  The first was when it realized that our earth was not the center of the universe, but only a speck in a world-system of a magnitude hardly conceivable…  The second was when biological research robbed man of his particular privilege of having been specially created, and relegated him to a descent from the animal world.” — Sigmund Freud

Dr. Freud was not always the most accurate of thinkers, as evidenced by the large number of practices and theories of psychiatry he developed that have been proven to be either completely false, or merely misguided. Modern psychiatry does owe him a large debt; not necessarily for the details of his theories, but for the scientific approach he took to the research into human behavior, and its motivations and workings. He helped psychiatry evolve from the level of shamanism to science.

This statement, however, is perfectly accurate, and a very insightful deduction as well. It goes far to explain a large number of the fringe elements of society, and the reaction they have given to the absolute verity of these two concepts. A very large percentage of mankind has never really gotten over the shock of discovering just how large the universe is, and in general, deal with that knowledge by ignoring it, never paying any attention to anything but their immediate surroundings. Even more of humanity resented learning that there is no evidence to support the idea of creationism, and the most common response to that has been, and in far too many cases continues to be, one of complete denial….

What is funny to me is that these folks who would deny evolution are the ones who benefit the most from its effects. Only the advances that mankind has made make it possible for them to survive at all. We are so far removed from living in caves, with no medical science, and all the other advances civilization has brought, that our intelligence level is no longer a factor in surviving. Thus, the ones who would normally not have lived long enough to reproduce, instead have large numbers of offspring, all just as lacking in reasoning ability as the next, continuing the legacy of ignorance that such denial indicates.

The irony of this is invisible to them; their very existence depends on what they deny, but they cannot see it…. and this lack of vision is what is killing them, and unfortunately, the rest of us as well….. It’s enough to make a person feel fatalistic….

“The flesh surrenders itself. Eternity takes back its own. Our bodies stirred these waters briefly, danced with a certain intoxication before the love of life and self, dealt with a few strange ideas, then submitted to the instruments of Time. What can we say of this? I occurred. I am not… yet I occurred.” — Frank Herbert, Dune Messiah
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There’s a certain slant of light,
On winter afternoons
That oppresses, like the weight
Of cathedral tunes.

Heavenly hurt it gives us;
We can find no scar,
But internal difference
Where the meanings, are.

None may teach it anything,
‘T is the seal, despair, —
An imperial affliction
Sent us of the air.

When it comes, the landscape listens,
Shadows hold their breath;
When it goes, ‘t is like the distance
On the look of death.

— Emily Dickinson

If you can’t tell, I’m feeling a bit dark today. This little piece of genius from Emily fits right in…. enjoy!
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It’s a Monday. I can tell, even without looking. Must be the 45 years of disciplining myself to go to work; a few unconscious habitual emotional states would naturally build up, enough to recognize a Monday anyway…. Fortunately, it only affects me, now, in that everybody else are the ones who have to be at work, and my only connection to that is if I need something from them…. another retirement perk they don’t tell you about. Gotta find your fun somewhere, eh? ……  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!

Malicious exploitation of rabbinical robes….

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Ffolkes,
I may have discovered the answer to one of those questions that has perplexed mankind since our species first kicked the sticks out of the crib, to wit: Why do people get so cranky when they get old? I can now tell you…. it’s all the fault of Mister Time, or Mistress Time, if you prefer (there is a lot to be said for the idea of the Time Bitch, or She Who Turns Hair Gray, a name I’ve heard numerous women authors suggest for use…..).

Now, I know you’ll probably ask what is new about that, and I’ll tell you, if you’ll give me  a chance…. don’t rush me, I just got up….

See, and there is the other reason for our cranky pants…. while I was writing the previous paragraph, lovingly polishing the phraseology, the subtle, yet simple answer that had come to me… went. Gone with the wind. Kaput, got thrown out with the bath, done a bunk…. Oh, wait, there it is…. never mind…

So, anyway, the Time Bitch gets us all eventually, and we get cranky because, not only does it HURT, but, here we are, with all this knowledge and experience that we’ve spent a lifetime learning, and these sneak attacks on our breath, strength, hair, and skin have added up to turn us into physical shadows of our former selves. All the things we’ve learned to enjoy doing are now proscribed, due to our body’s inability to meet the physical requirements of the activity. Our favorite forms of recreation or work are kept from us as no longer feasible. This, as you might guess, gets to be old quickly….like us.

So, we have to learn a new skill, called rationalization, also known to small children as pretend, or the world of make-believe. (Well, maybe not new, just a new application for it…..) We learn to say things like, “Oh, that’s okay, I’d rather sit here and read my book, really. You go ahead and swim over to Hawaii without me….”, or, “You guys go ahead, I’m just going to sit here and watch all the people. I don’t really enjoy xxxxing.”  (xxxx, being, of course, one of our previously favorite things to do….)

We learn to pretend that we don’t really mind not being able to walk without a stick of some kind, or that places that used to be close are now far away (such as the floor….), or that we have to choose hamburger even if we can afford steak, because we can’t chew it….

So, don’t wonder any more about all those cranky old folks wandering around in the world. They’re just adjusting to the new requirements Life has placed on them, and it takes some practice…. In the meantime, I think I’ll try to get over my morning irritation with my body by diving into the WWW for some pearls… wan to come along? Let’s go Pearl…..
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“Ever notice that fifteen minutes into a Jerry Lewis telethon you start rooting for the disease?” — Jim Sherbert

It’s a good thing for me I was raised without having to experience one of the more severe religions, because I’d probably have died from making myself feel guilty by now, for making fun of iconoclasts revered by the rest of society. Mother Teresa, Jerry Lewis, Oral Roberts, Billy Graham, Swaggert & Bakker et al, they have all felt the lash of my pen, pricking at them for their hypocrisy and self-aggrandizement. The pearl above describes my feelings exactly whenever I’ve spent more than five minutes watching one of Jerry’s telethons, which have been going on TV since I was seven years old (not quite an eon, but close enough….)….

The sheer effrontery of these people is what annoys me. All of them suffer from Grundyism, and to me, this is one of the worst human characteristics there is, common as it is. Grundyism, a term inspired by Robert Heinlein’s concept of the Mrs. Grundy’s of the world, is best illustrated by visualizing Mrs. Grundy, the prototypical nosy neighbor, peering with one eye around the corner of her parlor window, keeping a beady, judgmental eye on everything going on in her neighbors’ yards and houses, in order to provide her with ample supplies of gossip about which to spread innuendo and lies to her like-minded companions, Lady Nosy-Parker and the church secretary. Nothing that she does is ever a subject for her dissection in her daily phone and back-fence conversations, only the (in her eyes…) morally questionable activities that she observes in her neighbors.

Mr. Heinlein has suggested that the best way to deal with a sentence from one of these less-than-stellar characters such as “I know it’s none of my business, but…” , is to place a period after the word “but”, not bothering to be too careful as to worry about how forcefully that period is put in place. His attitude suggests that blood is acceptable, but mayhem is going a bit too far for mere gossip. Unless, of course, it is true, in which case, applying the period with a baseball bat, though messy, has been found to be gratifyingly cathartic, once the body is disposed of….. I suggest the use of lime and acid in combination; it is not fast, but extremely thorough….

Or, I guess, one could just say, “Go mind your own fucking business, you moron!” or some such polite suggestion, and leave it at that…..Offend them hard enough and they may watch you, but they will hesitate to talk about it…. I’ve found, personally, that an occasional wild-eyed stare at their house, mumbling and laughing maniacally, while fingering the sharp edge of an axe, to be fairly effective in keeping them quiet….. I love to see the curtains drop down over the window in a huffy rush…..
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A man can’t get rich if he takes proper care of his family. — Navajo Proverb

I love this statement. I’ve never seen it before, and it struck me hard when I first saw it. It is the kind of statement that reverberates…. it just doesn’t go into the mind and sit there, smug in its truth. It gently leads the mind to thinking about it, to examine it, and subtly yet firmly plants a thought that grows and grows, until its wisdom is not just clear, but shining.

In thinking it over, I found it could conceivably be used as a basis for a rant against the 1%, and I still may do so. But not just now…. I find it to be a soothing thought as well, and the mental energy of producing a rant would be counter-productive, I think. So, take note of this pearl…. it is one of the shortest I’ve ever made, with that characteristic common to all the shortest of them, to wit: it truly needs no help to make its point….. This is true morality, ffolkes…..

Integrity needs no rules. — Smart Bee
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First Love

I ne’er was struck before that hour
With love so sudden and so sweet,
Her face it bloomed like a sweet flower
And stole my heart away complete.
My face turned pale as deadly pale.
My legs refused to walk away,
And when she looked, what could I ail?
My life and all seemed turned to clay.

And then my blood rushed to my face
And took my eyesight quite away,
The trees and bushes round the place
Seemed midnight at noonday.
I could not see a single thing,
Words from my eyes did start —
They spoke as chords do from the string,
And blood burnt round my heart.

Are flowers the winter’s choice?
Is love’s bed always snow?
She seemed to hear my silent voice,
Not love’s appeals to know.
I never saw so sweet a face
As that I stood before.
My heart has left its dwelling-place
And can return no more

John Clare

As an integral part of my eternal search for lustrous pearls, I save time by subscribing to email lists that will send me material. One of those is a poetry site, Poem Hunters.com; I started using their email service about two or three weeks ago, and have found their choice of poems to be very helpful, and erudite, as well as satisfyingly diverse. I’ve now been introduced to at least four new poets (new to me….) whose work I find to be very good. This is one of them…. enjoy!
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Some mornings go better than others…. on those mornings, I kind of wish I still was putting out five pearls a day instead of three. Ah well, I also like it this way, and it seems to be working well, so, “it ain’t broke, so I’m leavin’ it alone….”  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!

Plastic flowers never grow….

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Ffolkes,
Great…. I’ve just discovered that there is a species of spider small enough to live in a laptop computer. As I sat here, gazing at the screen with my usual (for this time in the morning) vacuous stare, a tiny spider-shadow began to lower itself down in front of the screen. I followed its progress, and, lo, it disappeared! The only place for it to have gone is inside the computer…. so now, I have an entirely new universe of things to worry about…..

Like how many of them are in there? Or, are they poisonous to humans? Or, just what are they finding in there to eat? And that thought itself brought in a whole new set of visions, of tiny hordes of livestock infesting my computer, dodging the keys as they get pressed, but otherwise enjoying free reign to wander around in there…. Yikes!

Actually, when I look at the images that my mind provides when I consider this scenario, it reminds me of some of the animated movies that have come out recently. Take some weird, micro-sized, cute, witty, cheerful creatures, put them in some magnificently odd and beautiful landscapes; throw in a good screenwriter, and you’ve got a summer hit on your hands. The Adventures of Laptop Louise you could call it…. or not. But, it’s just odd enough to make some money for somebody….

Also interesting it is to note that once again, Life adapts to reality. I’ve always liked and admired spiders; any creature that reduces the number of flies in the world is my kind of creature…. also, having cut my literary teeth on Spider Man and his ilk, I know there is a lot about them to admire, from a physical standpoint.

Fast, strong, often poisonous, and with the ability to make web, a thoroughly competent hunter, with the tools to capture and subdue any prey within its size parameters. Once humans are gone from this plane of existence, I would vote for them as one of the most logical replacements at the top of the food chain….. they have the added bonus of not having too large a brain for their own good…. which has obviously been our problem all along….

Ah well, this kind of meandering will never get me to the end of this Pearl, interesting though it may be. That’s the trouble with being a polymath… it is ALL so damned interesting, I can’t keep from going for it…. So be it. Shall we Pearl?….
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Today we will begin with an old school pearl…. here are a series of pearls, each with its own point. Together, they make a statement of belief, or at least of agreement. That belief is left as an exercise for the Gentle Reader…..

Government is the only known enemy of intelligent life. — Smart Bee

“The only way to combat criminals is by not voting for them.”– Dayton Allen

“To preserve liberty, it is necessary that the whole body of the people possess arms, and be taught alike, especially when young, how to use them.” — Richard Henry Lee
    Okay, so it isn’t completely old school… the old school wouldn’t have had art…. but the message is the same. I’m going to be indulgent, and just state it for you, so you can give it away as needed….. There is NOBODY in the government you can trust. Nobody. They are all just clones of Herr Goerring, though most are not as arrogantly honest about it.

It would behoove all of us to keep a close eye on them, and keep our powder dry….. because, no matter how many times, or how eloquently they tell you, they are NOT interested at all in serving YOUR best interests. The only interests they have are their own, and nothing will change that, no matter how many times they say it…. so fuck ’em, and keep your weapons handy…. unless, of course, you enjoy your slavery…..
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OPERA:  For centuries now, Opera has been the foremost method of humiliation available to the security forces. It began in the late 1600s, when peasant rebels were made to dress up as ridiculously fat people and get up on wooden planks in front of hundreds of their peers and shout the same things over and over and over, to a musical accompaniment.  By the time the French Revolution came rolling along, it was the aristocrats who were forced to the stage to sing, gesticulate wildly and loudly perform plays devised to spread Revolutionary propaganda. Nowadays, Opera has been driven underground, but is still carried out by the perverse, the deviant, and those with very big tits (both men and women), their audiences made up almost exclusively of establishment figures. — Daniel Bowen’s TOXIC CUSTARPEDIA

To my way of looking at stuff, opera falls into the same category as William Shakespeare, i.e., that of the world’s most over-rated entities. Many, many people will gush and spew in praise of opera, proclaiming its beauty, its relevance, its influence on Art, and all sorts of nonsensical claims, none of which are either apparent to me, or believable by any means.

Why should I buy into a centuries old delusion? I don’t care who you are, you can sit there all damn day and night, and tell me that an operatic solo is an expression of beauty and power, and it will still sound as if someone has stepped on a cat’s tail. My ear has near-perfect pitch, and I’ve never heard an opera singer, other than maybe Pavarotti, who could hold a note well. (Pavarotti, it must be noted, does not limit himself to strictly operatic performances….)

The whole idea of it makes me uncomfortable, as the ones who claim to enjoy it seem to accept entire rooms full of people spontaneously bursting into song. In fucking Italian, no less, or German! What is the damn point of that? To make it less understandable? It most certainly does that part well…..

I’ve been to several operas; I try not to formulate opinions without at least checking out that about which I opine. Seeing them in person did nothing to alleviate the sense of ridiculousness I felt, or the pity I felt for those poor singers, in those ridiculous period clothing outfits, prancing around the stage hitting those notes that will shatter crystal. It must be extremely humiliating for them, and some of them actually have pretty good voices. They’d do a lot better to grab a guitar, a microphone, and hit the road….

I guess it all comes back to that sense of elitism that people seem to be so invested in….. People like to think that certain things show class, or culture; opera, symphony, golf, yacht racing, polo, all are activities that are, in the minds of the public, associated with wealth, privilege, and culture. Shakespeare, and a few other literary figures, get added to that list, as the tides of fashion change regularly, influencing what is in vogue. But none of the importance that people place in any of these things is inherent. None of it is really true at all; mankind loves his delusions, and if those delusions are involved with self-image, then the less it approaches reality, the better they like it.

You see, I think they all suspect that if they ever really stopped to look closely at all the things they hold as important, they would find themselves with a fist full of sand, or smoke, which  disappears the moment one opens the fingers wide. They know in their hearts that all of what they are so proud of about themselves is false, so this makes them cling even more strongly to the delusion they are not fools. Unfortunately for them, the universe knows already….

Shakespeare isn’t all that good; I find most of his work to be heavy, obscure, and just not very much fun to watch or read. Opera is worse, as once one has sat down to listen, it is impolite to get up and leave, which has been my impulse in the first few minutes of each one I’ve attended. Maybe it’s just me, but I’m just not impressed at how loud, or how high a singer can sing. There has to be something to connect to for the average Joe, something to which they can relate, and the opera I’ve heard seldom comes close….. So, next time somebody tells you how much they enjoyed the opera, take a close look at their level of sanity, because they are definitely delusional…..
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Couplets on Wit
I
But our Great Turks in wit must reign alone
And ill can bear a Brother on the Throne.

II
Wit is like faith by such warm Fools profest
Who to be saved by one, must damn the rest.

III
Some who grow dull religious strait commence
And gain in morals what they lose in sence.

IV
Wits starve as useless to a Common weal
While Fools have places purely for their Zea.

V
Now wits gain praise by copying other wits
As one Hog lives on what another sh—.

VI
Wou’d you your writings to some Palates fit
Purged all you verses from the sin of wit
For authors now are so conceited grown
They praise no works but what are like their own.

Alexander Pope

Not your average classical poet, was he?….. No comments, just enjoy….
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I can’t consider it cheating when it takes this much out of me. I have a multitude of stuff to do today in the Big Blue Room, so I’d best be getting to 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!

Seven? With one towel and lip gloss?….

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21

Ffolkes,
Despite the heat, we stayed inside the camouflaged brush hut, peering out through the firing holes to observe the surrounding forest. A clearing opened to view, about 20 feet away to the east, at the edge of a thick copse of ironwood trees. Nothing moved, in the trees, or the clearing, though the cries and screeches of many birds and animals punctuated the air of the otherwise silent forest.

As I gazed out into the clearing, sweat rolled down my back and sides, but was insufficient to stifle my excitement. Soon, if we were lucky enough to have picked the right path to watch, I would have the honor and glory of bagging the very first trophy head, the very first time one of the world’s most elusive, vicious, and fearsome beasts would be brought down in their wild state. Nothing would keep me from bagging my very own feral politician…. or even better, one of its pack mates, a ruffle-crested preacher…..

Well, one can dream, can’t one? This is the type of dream I’ve been having of late, just before waking up. I don’t know whether it is a good thing or not, but it’s a good feeling in the dreams when I bring one of those suckers down…. and goodness knows the ranks of both preachers and politicians could use some thinning. The herds they gather in are getting kind of extensive, and before you know it, they’ll be infesting our neighborhoods. Can’t let that happen; they’re already too much of a nuisance in the world, and should be eliminated just like any pest that brings disease and death along with it……

Now imagine me saying that in Ricardo Montalban’s voice, or James Earl Jones’….. Sounds more impressive doesn’t it? Funny how things are… Since I really don’t have much more to say here in the intro, perhaps we’d best just get on with it…. Probably for the best…. shall we Pearl?
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The Angel

I dreamt a dream! What can it mean?
And that I was a maiden Queen
Guarded by an Angel mild:
Witless woe was ne’er beguiled!

And I wept both night and day,
And he wiped my tears away;
And I wept both day and night,
And hid from him my heart’s delight.

So he took his wings, and fled;
Then the morn blushed rosy red.
I dried my tears, and armed my fears
With ten-thousand shields and spears.

Soon my Angel came again;
I was armed, he came in vain;
For the time of youth was fled,
And grey hairs were on my head.

William Blake

I find this to be an intriguing piece, and can relate to the emotions he evokes, at least the part on aging. I thought it might be nice to begin with a classic, rather than ending, and I was write…..
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If solid happiness we prize,
Within our breast this jewel lies,
And they are fools who roam.
The world has nothing to bestow;
From our own selves our joys must flow,
And that dear hut, our home.
— Nathaniel Cotton (1707-1788) — The Fireside, Stanza 3

I am beginning to think it is a poetry day. I like this particular piece, as it drives home a point common in Eastern religions, that happiness lies within one’s self, not in the outer world. Mr. Cotton here also expresses another part of that viewpoint that he shared with Emerson and Thoreau, that travel is not necessarily beneficial.

While I see the point to which they refer, I cannot agree with that assessment, as I happen to believe that traveling the world, while not necessary to being happy, can be a very good path to finding it within ourselves. The experience we gain from traveling teaches us about how we deal with the world, and self-knowledge is the true path to the happiness within….

The secret is to not travel simply for the purpose of seeking happiness, to pay heed to the old saying,  “it is better to journey than to arrive.”  As the poem, and many sages throughout the ages have noted, true happiness is not found in the world, so going about looking there for it is a waste of time and energy. But, I disagree with the above that it cannot be found there; if it is within us, then it is still there, whether we are at home or abroad.

The trick is to use the journey to learn about one’s self, thus finding within the self all that is needed to be happy. This knowledge can only enhance the experience gained in dealing with different parts of the world, and to my mind, makes the happiness all the sweeter….

I mean, really, would you rather be happy at home, finding the pleasure in simple chores, or would you rather be in Dublin in a centuries old pub, singing drinking songs, and finding new ways to live happily?…. Maybe it’s just me, but I’ll take the pub, every time…..
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“Be fruitful and multiply, and fill the earth and subdue it; and have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the air and over every living thing that moves upon the earth.” — Genesis 1:28

Is it any wonder that our society is falling apart? Given the above, I think that any doubts one may have about who and/or what is responsible for the mess in which we find ourselves are pretty well dispelled. This decree of Entitlement is taken seriously by every priest, every preacher, and every politician who ever trod American soil (the phenomenon is world-wide, but for now let’s just concern ourselves with our problems here at home….). Did you ever hear a clearer statement of justification for hatred, bigotry, and prejudice? If you can answer yes, I’d be interested in hearing it, as this is just about as clear an expression of elitism as any I’ve ever heard….

Perhaps it is just me, but I find this to be disgusting. It is a clearly false assumption, based entirely on hearsay that was uttered by men who wanted to have control over others, and wanted to establish in the minds of those others the idea that God gave them the right to do so. I’m not sure just how they got everyone to believe them, to buy into the delusion, as it seems completely obvious to me that it is a lie of major proportion.

But, they did, and for well over two millennia this idea of Mankind being the Lords of Creation has led us down a primrose path, straight to the edge of extinction…. The efforts of sages, philosophers, and clear-thinkers throughout the ages has not been sufficient to convince the majority of Mankind that our entire societal make-up is based on a lie, in spite of the simple fact that it is true….

As long as the majority of people in this country, or any other, for that matter, accept this lie, this entitlement, then the changes necessary to survival for our species are never going to happen. This sort of separation from the remainder of the Circle of Life is what will keep us from ever becoming part of that Circle. Our species will not survive, if we do not choose to join the rest of reality; we cannot survive alone, and every action taken to divide us from the other inhabitants of Earth pushes us further down the path to extinction.

It pisses me off no end to know that this inevitable end is all because the majority chooses to embrace a lie, a delusion, rather than having the courage to face the universe as we are….
___________________________________

What we have here is as close to a “normal” Pearl as it gets, considering how little “normal” has to do with this process. I’m letting it fly as it is, though both of the above ranting sections could easily be expanded; my ranting chops are a little stiff this morning, though, so they 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!

Avuncular attempts at erudition….

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10

Ffolkes,
In the pages of this blog, it has often been noted that Murphy, that bloody sod, spends a lot of time pissing on me. It seems a morning can’t go by without some sort of evidence that he has been around, messing with something so it will give me trouble. Even though I believe he singles me out for some unknown reason, I’ve tried not to complain too loudly, as that might piss him off good and proper, and make him take even closer notice…. just seemed like a good policy to follow at the time…..

But, this is getting absurd, and that is me playing nice. He has figured out possibly the most annoying thing he can do to me, and gone and done it. And, if he has his way, you’ll never even know, as it will keep me off the Net for long enough you’ll give up on today’s Pearl. That bleedin’ arse has cut my connection to the Internet! Well, not just mine apparently. My ISP seems to be down, and apparently has come down so hard, they’re struggling to get back up. Can’t even get through by phone; one can’t argue with a busy signal…..

I don’t know how Murphy was able to bring down an entire satellite network, but he’s done it, for sure and for certain. I’m sure there are a number of frantic geeks now running around the ISP’s hardware stacks, screwdrivers at the ready, diligently seeking the way to get the system back online. Since I couldn’t get anything but a busy signal at customer service, I called the sales line, where I found out they’re definitely down, having suffered a power outage somewhere, and hope to be back online within an hour. Since deadlines usually mean very little, we’ll see how that goes….

Meantime, it leaves me with nothing but faith that they will get it back in time for me to post this, and we all know how much I like operating on faith…. that is to say, I don’t like it at all. But, much like the four-year olds who get shoved into Sunday School without so much as a “by your leave”, I don’t have any choice in the matter just now….. so, I’ll just go Pearl. Care to join me?…..
___________________________________

Unbidden, treasure unfolded…

Taken by surprise, Psyche sits numb
Amidst tall phrases worn of elder time
Seeking a not-new place from which to come
No shiny new horizon, nor altered paradigm.

Sudden regrets shape dreams as times maintain
Shades of memories bring poignant clear sight
Visions of duty, each chosen wild campaign
Shouts echoing clamors to enfold the night.

Arisen from less than eternal havens of sleeping
Facing moments created in torment and pain
Destiny weighs upon those chosen to keeping
As the sparrow flies now to sever the twain.

Faded pathways lead away, hazy and long
Burned out verges, so often unknown
Images of yesterday, clear and strong
Bleed into today, though t’is but my own……

gigoid

Hmm …. It isn’t often I give in to the urge to write a poem, but, what with waiting around to get back online, and the reluctance of pearls to throw themselves at my feet, I figured, hey, why not? If I’d known it would come out like this, I probably wouldn’t have bothered, but, I’m uncertain as to whether or not that would be right.

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

So, I’ll ask for a little feedback…. is this poem worth the effort I put into it? Is it worthy of publication? I say, maybe, maybe not. I’d be interested to hear what others think about it, so please, those few of you who see this, please take a moment to let me know… a simple yes, it’s okay, or no, delete it, will suffice for my purposes…. and thanks very much in advance….   🙂

“I have thought many times since that if poets when they get discouraged would blow their brains out, they could write very much better when they got well.” — Mark Twain
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“Education is an admirable thing, but it is well to remember from time to time that nothing that is worth knowing can be taught.” — Oscar Wilde (1856-1900) (An example of Oscar channeling Lao Tzu….)

“Defending the truth is not something one does out of a sense of duty or to allay guilt complexes, but is a reward in itself.” — Peter Bechmann (I’ve never heard of this guy, but he makes a good point….)

It is fear that first brought gods into the world. – Smart Bee  (This almost sounds like something from a Hindu philosophy…. or, H. L. Mencken…)

“Violence accomplishes nothing.”  What a contemptible lie!  Raw, naked violence has settled more issues throughout history than any other method ever employed. Perhaps the city fathers of Carthage could debate the issue, with Hitler and Alexander as judges? — Robert Heinlein (Robert was a bit of a hawk when it came to politics….)

“Do not confuse ‘duty’ with what other people expect of you; they are utterly different. Duty is a debt you owe to yourself to fulfill
obligations you have assumed voluntarily. Paying that debt can entail anything from years of patient work to instant willingness to die. Difficult it may be, but the reward is self-respect.” — Lazarus Long  (This is the best definition of duty I know of, and parallels perfectly what I was taught by my father….)

While searching the dB this morning for pearls, these are what stuck to the board so far. (I use the velcro board system….) Each of them is a decent pearl (especially the second one, re: fear) and could conceivably contribute to a rant of some length. But, in the interests of time and change, let’s try something new….

What do y’all think of each of these as a subject for a rant, or even merely discussion on a more rational level? I’ve discussed all of them previously, and can do so again, but it might be nice to approach them from someone else’s viewpoint. I think I’d enjoy that, as I love looking at things from different angles whenever possible. Do you agree with the statement? Hate it? Just have thoughts about it? Great! Each of them addresses a subject relevant to all of us, as far as I can see….

So, let me know what you think, either in the comments below, or by blogging about it, then let me know so I can go read it. Hey, if nothing else, it will give us both something different to try, yes? And who knows, it could provide material for all of us, one way or another…. and new material is always welcome here…..
___________________________________

I have a friend, Patrick Power, who posts a lot of pictures on Facebook. He also has a WordPress blog, at http://itsallaboutvegas.wordpress.com/, (though he hasn’t posted there in a while…) and one at http://onemoviefanaticsopinion.blogspot.com/ (He doesn’t post much there, either…. busy guy….) 

Our minds work in similar patterns, and I am almost always in agreement with what he posts, or ‘Like’ it because it is so cute, or accurate, or relevant. A couple of days ago, he posted this one, and I thought immediately that it should be sent to the Democratic Party for use during the upcoming campaign. I don’t think the Republicans need it, as they try to use it regularly…. fortunately, they’re not very good at it…. but, used properly, it can be extremely effective….
    Perfect, isn’t it?…. Enjoy the day….
___________________________________

Well, there you have it. My ISP has solved whatever problem it had, and I’m back online. This Pearl is done, though not in customary form. It somehow feels different today, like it got away from me for awhile…. ah well, probably just my incipient paranoia peeking out…. 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!

A number of dastardly schemes on sale….

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3

Ffolkes,
Brave stories of epic battles and perilous quests are written every day, by authors all over the world. Visions drawn, songs sung, tales told, authors fill the Net with letters, words, phrases, and paragraphs, some noble, some rotten. Fantasy and real life, romance and mystery, light and dark, serious and fun, people give their self to their work, seeking to find that part within themselves that makes them what they are, that makes them feel not just the desire to write, but the need.

Each of those authors has their own routines, that they have worked out over time, that help them to write. These routines are sometimes rigid, written in stone; if the routine is disrupted, no writing gets done. Others’ patterns are more flexible, allowing the author some leeway before crashing the boat into the rocks of no inspiration. Each author’s routine is based, in part, on their own physical and mental characteristics, and is unique in that respect, just as we are…..

“Writing comes easy.  It’s just a matter of staring at a blank piece of paper until your forehead bleeds.” — Ring Lardner

None of those other authors, though, have an ass that hurts before it even gets sat upon. None of them are limited to only 10 minutes in the chair, before needing to get up to move and stretch….. Well, that isn’t true, I guess…. I know of at least one fellow author who also suffers from lower back pain, and she also has troubles with this…. But, it only verifies what I’m saying, and that is that it is getting hard to get these Pearls done, from a physical standpoint, and my routine will have to be adjusted to accommodate those physical limitations.

I’m going to have to alter my writing habits, to include longer, more frequent breaks, as my back is complaining more and more as time passes, and I’m starting to get pressure sores on my buttocks from sitting so long. This may have an effect on my writing; I can’t tell yet whether that effect will be positive or negative. I’m hoping against the latter of course, but expect it will, if nothing else, slow down the process quite a bit, in order to maintain the quality of what goes in here…..

All that being said, again to little purpose, we should no doubt get on with the scheduled activities, before we have to start all over…. Shall we Pearl?….
___________________________________

“Few persons have sufficient wisdom to prefer censure which is useful to them, to praise which deceives them.” — La Rochefoucauld

Certain members of the French aristocracy occasionally had some pretty accurate insights into human nature, and this is certainly in that category. La Rochefoucauld gives us a very rational explanation for why our beloved ruling class finds it so easy to lie to the public, not only in this country, but in every country. One of a politician’s most basic skills is this ability to praise with deceit; since so many of those who end up in politics begin their journey toward Hell in law school, I suspect that there is a class that is given to law students that covers this principle, which would obviously also be a good skill for use on juries…..

People are lazy, and don’t want to have to think, if they can help it. If they hear something that tells them they are good people, or somehow they have been made special, just by being born white, or Christian, or ignorant, and are willing to buy into whatever they’re told by a person wearing a tie, why, they will follow that person straight to Hell itself, smiling all the way….

So, politicians learn at their mother’s knees to feed into this aspect of human nature, and pick up the skill of lying with a perfectly straight face at an early age. That skill has often been perfected by the time they reach mid-puberty…. which accounts for their tendency to marry and breed at a young age, thus making sure that there will always be more willing dunderheads available for brainwashing…. And people are much easier to fool when they’ve been programmed from an early age…. I think this is, to me, the most reprehensible part of the whole idea of controlling others, i.e., the abuse of children that is essential to the continuation of the process…..

Yes, abuse of children, that is what I said. To me, to deny knowledge is abuse, and to force ignorance upon a child is a most heinous crime. Denying a child the opportunity to learn and grow is even worse than merely lying to the public, to my mind, for it takes away that child’s entire life of possibilities, turning them into a robot, easily manipulated by more false information.

“I’ve been thinking, but it’s an accident I swear!” — Rush Limbaugh’s ex-script writer, now working for Mitt Romney as a speech writer….

One of the primary characteristics of anyone who desires to control other people is a total indifference to any suffering they may cause others. It doesn’t enter into their consciousness, or into their calculations, to worry about what might happen to anyone else; only what happens to them matters….. This isn’t news, just look at any of them on TV, and you can see it in their eyes…. no soul in there….

The Devil hath not, in all his quiver’s choice,
An arrow for the heart like a sweet voice.
— Lord Byron (1788-1824) — Don Juan, Canto xv, Stanza 13

In fact, there are some of them who can’t keep from showing their disdain, especially in their eyes…. Note how Mr. Romney’s eyes  glitter and sparkle when he talks about denying rights to minority groups, or when he talks about war. You can see him doing an inner happy dance at the misfortune of those who would suffer from his policies, such as when he speaks of breaking up immigrant families. I think I would tend to worry about a President of this country who became sexually aroused at the thought of bombing little brown people; but look deep into Mitt’s eyes when he talks about that subject, and you’ll be convinced…. the man is certifiably insane, and he has millions of people backing him….

“Never before have I encountered such corrupt and foul-minded perversity! Have you ever considered a career in the Church?” —  Black Adder II (or in Politics?)

It’s time to make sure my ammunition is dry….. and my escape route is thoroughly planned and secured…. both may be needed sooner than I had hoped….
___________________________________

Old school pearl here…. and the conclusion IS left as an exercise for the Gentle Reader……

Doubt is the beginning, not the end, of wisdom. — Smart Bee

“Somehow, in the midst of their horrid history, the best among the _gaijin_ learned a wonderful lesson.  They learned to distrust themselves, to doubt even what they were taught to believe or what their egos make them yearn to see.  To know that even truth must be scrutinized, it was a great discovery, almost as great as the treasure we of the East have to offer them in return, the gift of harmony.” — David Brin – Dr. Pak’s Preschool

“It is well for people who think to change their minds occasionally in order to keep them clean….For those who do not think, it is best at least to rearrange their prejudices once in a while.” — Luther Burbank (1849-1926)

“You can teach an elephant to dance, but the likelihood of its stepping on your toes is very high.” — Gary Moss

He was determined to discover the underlying logic behind the universe  Which was going to be hard, because there wasn’t one. — Terry Pratchett, “Mort”

Okay, that should be enough to get the idea across. Or through. Or around. Or whatever….. if not, well, no worries. It will be on the quiz, but the quiz doesn’t count toward the final grade…. mainly because this is Life, and you don’t get graded using that system; Life’s more of a “pass/fail” class….

These five pearls do have a point they ‘sort of’ lead up to, and the line of near-logic to follow there isn’t completely hidden. But, I’d take an aspirin first, if you plan to spend any significant time trying to fuddle it out. Like most things I put together, there is a humorous intent, but don’t get burned trying to find it…. not worth it, from the risk/gain aspect. And it might be a good idea to wash up after…..
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Where the map differs from the terrain, believe the terrain. — Swedish Army Manual

Wow! This is deep! The Swiss Army dude or dudette who wrote this little gem must have been an Uncarved Block, to have written such a universal rule, disguised as a simple reminder to a simple soldier….. This rule is applicable to everything. Everything. Next time you are listening to some pundit expounding their political theories, use this as a tool to analyze their remarks. Simply view what they say as a map, a map they are using to describe their version of reality, which is the terrain.

The map they describe always differs from the terrain that exists in reality, and using this analogy simplifies finding the differences, as one merely need to look at reality to see the truth. It is by far one of the handiest little tools I’ve ever seen for determining the distance the speaker is from actual truth….. The officers in the Swedish Army must have to be careful giving orders, as their soldiers are armed with more weapons than the ones they carry in their hands…..
___________________________________

Well, this has certainly been an experience. The relative value of that experience is something I don’t believe I want to get into just now…. “Meandering” is a good word, I think, to describe the way my head worked this morning, but, at least I’ve meandered to an ending point…. I could just as easily fallen into a rant…. Plus, I just noticed that there is no poetry, to speak of, today, except for one little couplet from a longer poem. Ah well, 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!

Delving into unusual matters of import….

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3

Ffolkes,
Composing these Pearls every day has become the central stanchion on which the rest of my day is built. No matter what time I now arise, sometime between 5 AM and 9 AM, the process defines the morning’s activities, with very little else happening until it is done. Only coffee, breaks from sitting, and restroom urges are part of the routine; no other activities are engaged in prior to publication of the morning’s effort. I’ve found this to be the best way to ensure that it happens each and every day, which has my goal for this blog since its inception on August 11 of 2011.

Unfortunately, this also means that I’m spending a lot of time sitting at the computer, and very little time out exercising my mind, or body, in the real world. Of course, as a retiree, my need to relate to the real world is diminished, to be sure; I have the choice as to whether or not I wish to go out and mingle, or stay home and polish my curmudgeon trophies. It’s nice having the choice for a change; for most of my life, the real world pretty much dictated my activities according to the needs of my family, or job, or something else other than my personal choice. I don’t think that is unusual, and that’s a bit sad, isn’t it?….

But, now that I can choose, I’ve chosen to “hermit up” a lot. This has a lot to do with the fact that living on the poverty line doesn’t allow much extra cash for entertainment purposes, and most activities that have to do with other folks involve at least a minimum of disposable income, in order to engage in going out to eat, or have a cocktail, or go to a ball game, etc. Very few things these days are free, and if they are, it takes some money to get to where they are… such as the beach. A lack of funds is a serious handicap to a player, for sure, not that I ever was one, but, hey, a guy can dream, right?

For now, though, until my income has settled at last into what I should have been making for the last two years, I am pursuing a life of “quiet desperation”, and generally doing so alone….. except for the wonderful friends I have found here on the internet, at WordPress. The interactions I am fortunate to have with the other authors here have been uniformly positive. People here show each other support, and compassion, and kindness, in such a free and easy manner that the Dalai Lama would be proud, indeed. It makes up a lot for the lack of face to face engagement that I lack in my life; the ffolkes I’ve met here are people I am proud to have as friends, and have helped me get through some pretty hard times lately, just by being there….

So, I write…. for me, for them, and for my kids, and grandkid (so far just one). I write to express the “stuff” inside me that has been storing up over the last 50 or so years, waiting for me to get done with the things I needed to do to take care of the family, until I could begin the journey toward becoming a writer, my lifelong dream. It’s kind of destiny-like, actually; books, and literature, have been the backbone of my life, and producing them seems like a logical outcome for my nature. So I am polishing my skills as a writer here on WordPress, ever hopeful that some editor will drop in one day, take a look at what I’ve written, and ask me to start writing for a larger audience, for pay…..

Having thus spent five hefty paragraphs discussing the very thing I’m doing, (good writing practice technique, don’t y’know?), I will cease this assault on your sensibilities, and go now in search of pearls with which to populate this page….. care to join me?  Let’s Pearl….
___________________________________

Practice Acts of Random Kindness and Senseless Beauty. — Hippie Philosophy, circa 1968

“It has become appallingly obvious that our technology has exceeded our humanity. — Albert Einstein (1879-1955)

Taken together, these two statements offer a possible treatment for what ails the world today. Albert’s words, spoken not long after he had helped to create the hydrogen atomic bomb, are clearly true. We, as a species, continue to display the same vicious, insensitive, violent nature that enabled us to struggle our way to the top of the food chain; the difference now is that we have the power to completely destroy an entire planet, should we give vent to that nature in our conflicts with one another….

Thus, the first statement, made common during the Peaceful Revolution in the Sixties, can be seen as a possible antidote to that nature, and to the danger it implies for mankind. It has been said, and truthfully, that the next evolutionary change that our species needs to make to survive is a change of the mind, of spiritual strength. Mankind needs to put aside our species’ natural response to conflict, which is generally to meet such tests with violence. Now that our ability to destroy ourselves is complete, we cannot afford to allow that part of our nature dictate our actions; that would be suicidal, for sure.

“The best portion of a good man’s life is his little, nameless, unremembered acts of kindness and love.” — William Wordsworth

Instead, each of us needs to learn to acknowledge in us the connection we have to each other, to celebrate that connection, instead of trying to sever it. The world, and people, respond to kindness, and to beauty; that, too, is part of our nature, and may be our salvation. as well. We all need to help each other to develop responses to stress that act from a basis of compassion, that try to promote beauty in the world.

Change within ourselves is the only real, lasting effect we can have on Reality, and with the help of each other, I believe it is possible to effect the changes to the human spirit that are so obviously necessary if we are to survive…. If we all practice Acts of Random Kindness, and Senseless Beauty, then we may live to see another millennium…. if not, we’ll be fortunate to see the end of this century…..

“And if the word integration means anything, this is what it means: that we, with love, shall force our brothers to see themselves as they are, to cease fleeing from reality and begin to change it.” — James Baldwin, The Fire Next Time
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An American Fascist seeking power would not proclaim that he is a fascist.  Fascism always camouflages its plans and purposes. … Any fascist attempt made to gain power in America would not use the exact Hitler pattern.  It would work under the guise of “super-patriotism” and “super-Americanism”.  Fascist leaders are neither stupid nor naive. They know that they must hand out a line that “sells”.   Huey Long is said to have remarked that if Fascism came to America it would be on a program of “Americanism”. — U. S. Army (1945)

Interesting, no? To discover that the US Army was aware of this is not as surprising, or as disappointing, to me as the fact that no one listened. If one is to go by the description of fascism presented here, then it becomes clear that we have allowed this to happen, right here in the good ol’ USA…. I offer as proof of this assertion the latest batch of crap that has dribbled out of the Republican camp in the last couple of days. Mitt Romney spent some time to outline some of his ideas on foreign policy changes he would seek if he is elected.

I have yet to read the article for details of those policies, as I admit to a certain amount of trepidation, regarding just how crazy they may be. It was enough for me to see the headline of the article…. “Disturbing foreign policy changes outlined…”  If the FIRST take by the media on these ideas prompts the word “Disturbing” in the title, then they MUST be pretty outrageous, and I am sure they will become the subject of an upcoming rant, once I’ve read them through….

For now, I will merely point out that Mitt’s entire program is based on the words used above in the educational treatise from the Army. From the beginning of his campaign, Romney has painted himself as a “PATRIOT”, wrapping himself in the flag, depending on that to deflect any criticisms aimed at his sincerity. He has voiced completely ILLEGAL ideas of things he would change, ideas that fed into the fears of whatever particular fringe group to which he was speaking, not even bothering to hide the fact that what he proposed was not only against the law, but was in direct contradiction to what he had told another group the day before. More than one instance of this was reported in the news; I didn’t make it up. For goodness’ sake, the man has seriously proposed a law to make it illegal for a woman to get pregnant without being married! Pure Muslim Sharia Law, from the mouth of a Christian bigot…

“Can you say “Pervert?” I thought you could.” – Smart Bee

As I’ve noted, I’m not altogether certain that the current administration is overly concerned with what is in my best interests. They, too, are politicians, and sought the jobs they are holding, which, in my mind, classifies them as insane right from the get-go. But, what I’ve observed during this Democratic administration has been much less destructive toward me and the general public than ANY of the policies that Mitt has voiced.

He has made it perfectly clear in his speeches and programs that, if one is not white, Christian, rich, and bigoted, then he isn’t interested in doing anything but oppressing you, and making himself and his cronies more wealthy, and more powerful. THAT is his underlying goal, not any patriotic wish to make things better for the average American. He couldn’t describe an average American if one was standing in front of him, spitting in his face….
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An Extempore

When they were come into Faery’s Court
They rang — no one at home — all gone to sport
And dance and kiss and love as faerys do
For Faries be as human lovers true —
Amid the woods they were so lone and wild
Where even the Robin feels himself exil’d
And where the very books as if affraid
Hurry along to some less magic shade.
‘No one at home’! the fretful princess cry’d
‘And all for nothing such a dre[a]ry ride
And all for nothing my new diamond cross
No one to see my persian feathers toss
No one to see my Ape, my Dwarf, my Fool
Or how I pace my Otaheitan mule.
Ape, Dwarf and Fool why stand you gaping there
Burst the door open, quick — or I declare
I’ll switch you soundly and in pieces tear.’
The Dwarf began to tremble and the Ape
Star’d at the Fool, the Fool was all agape
The Princess grasp’d her switch but just in time
The Dwarf with piteous face began to rhyme.
‘O mighty Princess did you ne’er hear tell
What your poor servants know but too too well
Know you the three great crimes in faery land
The first alas! poor Dwarf I understand
I made a whipstock of a faery’s wand
The next is snoring in their company
The next the last the direst of the three
Is making free when they are not at home.
I was a Prince — a baby prince — my doom
You see, I made a whipstock of a wand
My top has henceforth slept in faery land.
He was a Prince the Fool, a grown up Prince
But he has never been a King’s son since
He fell a snoring at a faery Ball
Your poor Ape was a Prince and he poor thing
But ape — so pray your highness stay awhile
‘Tis sooth indeed we know it to our sorrow —
Persist and you may be an ape tomorrow —
While the Dwarf spake the Princess all for spite
Peal’d the brown hazel twig to lilly white
Clench’d her small teeth, and held her lips apart
Try’d to look unconcerned with beating heart.
They saw her highness had made up her mind
And quaver’d like the reeds before the wind
And they had had it, but O happy chance
The Ape for very fear began to dance
And grin’d as all his uglyness did ache–
She staid her vixen fingers for his sake
He was so very ugly: then she took
Her pocket mirror and began to look
First at herself and [then] at him and then
She smil’d at her own beauteous face again.
Yet for all this — for all her pretty face
She took it in her head to see the place.
Women gain little from experience
Either in Lovers, husbands or expense.
The more their beauty the more fortune too
Beauty before the wide world never knew.
So each fair reasons — tho’ it oft miscarries.
She thought her pretty face would please the fa[e]ries.
‘My darling Ape I wont whip you today
Give me the Picklock sirrah and go play.’
They all three wept but counsel was as vain
As crying cup biddy to drops of rain.
Yet lingeringly did the sad Ape forth draw
The Picklock from the Pocket in his Jaw.
The Princess took it and dismounting straight
Trip’d in blue silver’d slippers to the gate
And touch’d the wards, the Door full courteously
Opened — she enter’d with her servants three.
Again it clos’d and there was nothing seen
But the Mule grasing on the herbage green.
End of Canto xii.

Canto the xiii.
The Mule no sooner saw himself alone
Than he prick’d up his Ears — and said ‘well done!
At least unhappy Prince I may be free —
No more a Princess shall side saddle me
O King of Othaiete — tho’ a Mule
‘Aye every inch a King’ — tho’ ‘Fortune’s fool.’
Well done — for by what Mr. Dwarfy said
I would not give a sixpence for her head.’
Even as he spake he trotted in high glee
To the knotty side of an old Pollard tree
And rub’d his sides against the mossed bark
Till his Girths burst and left him naked stark
Except his Bridle — how get rid of that
Buckled and tied with many a twist and plait.
At last it struck him to pretend to sleep
And then the thievish Monkies down would creep
And filch the unpleasant trammels quite away.
No sooner thought of than adown he lay
Sham’d a good snore — the Monkey-men descended
And whom they thought to injure they befriended.
They hung his Bridle on a topmost bough
And of[f] he went run, trot, or anyhow–

John Keats

This is kind of long, but while reading it through this morning, I was struck by its dream-like quality. The act of reading it seemed to put me in a trance-like state, and the characters in the poem took on the faces in the news. It all made sense, too, at the time. Maybe it’s something in my coffee, or some old hippie mind tricks arising out of my sub-conscious memory…. or maybe I’m just strange.

No matter, the poem, long as it is, is the beauty break my head needed to finish the morning’s effort, so, deal with it….  🙂  And enjoy the trip through Keats’ dream…. It’s kind of fun to put the faces of Romney, Barack, Newt, Rush, and all the others who inhabit the front pages, on the characters in the poem, at some elegant non-partisan ball. ….  “And off I went run, or anyhow….”
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Somewhat late, but not a bad effort, all in all. As is often the case, whether it will do or not is a moot point; it’s done, and it’s now going to be published, before I have any second thoughts 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 won’t help save the parameters….

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1

Ffolkes,
Starting cold isn’t hard on just engines; it doesn’t seem to be doing a lot for my brain, either. So much for theory…. back to the drawing board…. Maybe if I look under here… no, nothing. There’s nothing lying about I can use, and nothing fictional or philosophical is formulating, that I can see. This could prove to be a frustrating experience, if I can’t come up with something pretty soon; the natives are restless, and I may have to leave mid-Pearl. Hmm, let’s see what happens when I do this….You  may want to cover your ears….

Well, that wasn’t so bad, now, was it? I had assumed that there would be more of a fuss forthcoming, but that was quite restrained, all in all. One would think that it would be a bit more of a struggle to empty one’s own mental pockets, but it went very smoothly, if not exactly fruitfully. Perhaps that explains the lack of interest in fighting for what was found, as it wasn’t much, to be sure. In fact, nothing was found, and that is a bit unsettling, as I had no idea I was so short on material…. not even an old cliche to examine. Pretty sad….

Is this schizoid paranoia or just existential blues? — Smart Bee

I think perhaps I’d best just dive in and begin the search for pearls in Smart Bee; it looks like that is my last, best hope for this morning’s salvation. We can only hope at this point…. shall we Pearl?…..
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“To be, or not to be: that is the question: whether ‘t is nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, or to take arms against a sea of troubles, and by opposing end them? To die: to sleep: No more; and by a sleep to say we end the heartache and the thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to,–‘t is a consummation devoutly to be wish’d. To die, to sleep; to sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there ‘s the rub: for in that sleep of death what dreams may come, when we have shuffled off this mortal coil, must give us pause: there ‘s the respect that makes calamity of so long life; For who would bear the whips and scorns of time, the oppressor’s wrong, the proud man’s contumely, the pangs of despised love, the law’s delay, the insolence of office and the spurns that patient merit of the unworthy takes, when he himself might his quietus make with a bare bodkin? who would fardels to grunt and sweat under a weary life, but that the dread of something after death, the undiscover’d country from whose bourn no traveller returns, puzzles the will and makes us rather bear those ills we have than fly to others that we know not of? Thus conscience does make cowards of us all; and thus the native hue of resolution is sicklied o’er with the pale cast of thought, and enterprises of great pith and moment with this regard their currents turn awry, and lose the name of action.” — William Shakespeare (1564-1616), Hamlet — Act iii, Sc. 1

This passage is probably the most quoted paragraph in history, generally trotted out when some ambitious actor wants to impress a director with his memory for script, or else when some English professor is trying to impress some cute undergraduate. This morning I took the time to apply my own doubt to my theory about Shakespeare (which, as I’ve shown previously, is solidly negative….), by reading the above passage with an open mind…. Or, as open as I can get it, given my already formed opinion of his work….

I found this to be, as Will’s work often is, rather obscure in its meaning. Sure, it flows nicely, and the way he structures his phrases is certainly lyrical sounding when spoken aloud. But, to me, the difficulty in following the thread of thought that the soliloquy sews detracts from that lyrical quality, by forcing the observer to work too hard at understanding the meaning of the words…. To me, this is a flaw in a play; it deflects one from being entertained by making the audience work at comprehending the actor’s lines….

Second, I found this obscurity to also take away from the power of what otherwise might be a stirring speech. Instead, it merely comes off as depressive, and whiny. “For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,” sounds a bit like a complaint to me, and is less than attractive in a Prince, to be sure…..

I guess the English have always enjoyed a bit of crazy in their princes and kings, eh what?…. I suppose in that sense, Will nailed Hamlet’s character on the head…. but, that doesn’t mean I have to like it…. and I don’t….  To my mind, even after this examination, Shakespeare remains the most over-rated author of all time…. And as further proof that even he knew it, from the same play…

“T’is as easy as lying.” — William Shakespeare (1564-1616), Hamlet — Act iii, Sc. 2
___________________________________

Nice to see the formalities being observed…. educating new recruits is an important detail….

(Photo found on Facebook…)
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“By doubting we come at truth.” — Cicero

Warm eyes, wet lips
Gently touch my finger tips

Soft sighs, silky hair
Longing for me to touch her there

Her begging eyes
Her whimpering cries

Urgent needs of one so sweet
Bring me quickly to my feet

The night is warm, there is no doubt
It’s my turn to take the dog out.
— Smart Bee

“All true knowledge contradicts common sense.” — Smart Bee

This is an old school pearl, after a fashion. Raise your hand if you get the point…. well, okay, don’t. But, if you did, well, you get it, right? Right. So, I don’t have to write a thousand words here to try to tell you, which is probably fortunate for both of us.

There is a point, you know, but, it’s not one that bears any great significance in real terms; I’m just feeling a bit lazy today, and it’s easier than spending another half-hour chasing down something about which to rant. I’ll just leave you with this thought…..

“The storm starts when drops start dropping. When the drops stop dropping then the storm starts stopping.”  — Dr Suess
___________________________________

I can only wish there was a way to get rich on the concept of unpredictability…. Well, there probably is, but I haven’t heard of such, precisely, though there are numerous theories of which I’ve read. If nothing else, it might help me organize my own existence in such a way as to take advantage of the rapidity with which the Universe presents its manifestations of mutability. Since I don’t know of any such process, I’ll have to settle for the ability to create a paragraph like this, totally meaningless in relation to the task at hand, other than to reflect the confusion and lack of cohesive thought currently on display here…. which makes it accurate, if nothing else…

That being said, to little purpose, I will draw this to a close, thus giving the universe the opportunity to heave its normal sigh of relief, and get on with the day…. 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!

Savage knickers at the seashore….

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7

Ffolkes,
Last night, a Friday, in my younger days, I would have stayed up late, playing some guitar & having a deep philosophical discussion at intervals between songs with both Tom, my playing partner, and either John or James, (Daniels & Beam, respectively…), whichever we were entertaining that night as monitor for the session. A few other like-minded individuals may have been in attendance, and the air would have been rife with speculative, joyfully creative flights of imagination, music, and Life. Such nights fueled much of the rest of the week back then, providing impetus for making it to the next week’s jam….

Ah, but, those days are gone now…. not forgotten, obviously, but gone, only accessible by memory. Such memories, however, are the soul food for the present; they provide me with ample reason to last another day. Lasting another day, at this point, has assumed a more immediate relevance than any previous time in my life, as the effort to do so becomes greater, seemingly more so each day….. I still try to put some speculative, joyfully creative moments on the agenda, but those moments are definitely fewer, and further between, coming as they do in the mornings when writing these Pearls…. My guitar, alas, is currently in gaol at the pawn shop until I can break it free….

But, I do have to say, although the occurrences of moments of value happen less frequently, they are no less uplifting, and continue to provide me with reasons to last another day…. if only to post another Pearl…. shall we get on with doing so? I think that would be best….
___________________________________

My life, described in six words….

“Looked for love, found it everywhere.” — gigoid, to KDFC DJ Hoyt Smith, 2009….

While listening to the radio one day, the DJ was talking about a meme activity he had received via email, earlier that day, from a listener. The challenge was to describe your life in exactly six words; he gave several examples of those who had already responded, and asked the listening audience to call in with their own. After a couple of moments the above six words floated to the surface of my mind, almost unbidden, so I called in, and, to my surprise, my call was taken, and my quote was put out over the air.

For life, with all it yields of joy and woe,
And hope and fear (believe the aged friend),
Is just our chance o’ the prize of learning love,–
How love might be, hath been indeed, and is.
— Robert Browning (1812-1890) — A Death in the Desert

Considering that what I said in those six words is as true as the day, it felt kind of good. Fortunately, it didn’t lead to any more than 15 seconds of fame, the time it took to say my name, and my contribution…. not that I was hoping it would lead to an appearance on Letterman or anything, but it did feel pretty good, as I am proud of the quote….

Of course, I’ve never found the secret to getting love to stay, other than the love between friends that is so important. Our culture, so tenuous in its support of monogamy, provides people with so many ways to leave a relationship without penalty, no one seems interested in making them last an entire lifetime any more. It’s like, “Oh well, that didn’t work… there’s lots of fish in the sea….”, and off they go into the dating world again…. Frankly, it makes me dizzy….

I can’t say I know what the problem is in society that dooms relationships these days; if I did, then it wouldn’t be a problem, as I’d know what to avoid…. What I do know is that on five occasions in my life, I’ve given my heart to a woman, and spent all my energy giving my all to that relationship, faithfully and fully. On all of those occasions, the woman eventually decided, for their own personal reasons, that they didn’t want to continue, and left. I guess they like Will Shakespeare more than I do… as they seemed to take on his attitude…

“I dote on his very absence.” — William Shakespeare  (With all he wrote, even he came up with something coherent occasionally….)

I’ve been fortunate, I guess, in that of those five times, only three were painful in their intensity; two of them were relatively amicable breakups. But, it hurts when a woman I’ve loved for 23 years, and intended to die with, decides she’d rather pursue other options;it hurts, and it hurts a lot…. It also hurts when a woman has said she loved me for ten years, and has been lying the whole time…. that kind of betrayal brings a very lasting pain, and is slow to pass…

I hear you reproach, “But delay was best,
For their end was a crime.” Oh, a crime will do
As well, I reply, to serve for a test
As a virtue golden through and through,
Sufficient to vindicate itself
And prove its worth at a moment’s view!
.     .     .     .     .     .
Let a man contend to the uttermost
For his life’s set prize, be it what it will!
The counter our lovers staked was lost
As surely as if it were lawful coin;
And the sin I impute to each frustrate ghost
Is–the unlit lamp and the ungirt loin,
Though the end in sight was a vice, I say.
— Robert Browning (1812-1890) — The Statue and the Bust

Pain is an old friend, though, in all its various guises, and I know it always passes in time. Now I am looking for love again, in my own time, still trying to find that one woman who can be both loving and honest. The ones I’ve known so far have all had a problem with that last part…. it’s not something our society teaches well. But, until I find her, I’ll have to make do with the pain….

I know she is out there, somewhere….. There’s got to be some woman who would enjoy being worshiped by an old, fading, but faithful, romantic curmudgeon with a soft spot for dogs, cats, and kids….

In the desert a fountain is springing,
In the wide waste there still is a tree,
And a bird in the solitude singing,
Which speaks to my spirit of thee.
— Lord Byron (1788-1824) — Stanzas to Augusta
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The thought manifests as the word;
The word manifests as the deed;
The deed develops into habit;
And habit hardens into character.
So watch the thought and its ways with care,
And let it spring from love
Born out of concern for all beings.
— The Buddha

I can’t think of a single thing that needs to be added here, so I won’t….. As Nike says, “Just do it….”
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“Strange, because they are so frankly and hysterically insane — like all dreams: a God who could make good children as easily as bad, yet preferred to make bad ones; who could have made every one of them happy, yet never made a single happy one; who made them prize their bitter life, yet stingily cut it short; who gave his angels eternal happiness unearned, yet required his other children to earn it; who gave his angels painless lives, yet cursed his other children with biting miseries and maladies of mind and body; who mouths justice and invented hell — mouths mercy and invented hell — mouths Golden Rules, and forgiveness multiplied by seventy times seven, and invented hell; who frowns upon crimes, yet commits them all; who created man without invitation, then tries to shuffle the responsibility for man’s acts upon man, instead of honorably placing it where it belongs, upon himself; and finally, with altogether divine obtuseness, invites this poor, abused slave to worship him!” — Mark Twain, _The Mysterious Stranger_

Perhaps it’s lazy, perhaps it’s stealing…. but my comments here wouldn’t add anything that would make this more accurate or more  effectively true, so again…. just take it in, and hold it alongside all the nonsensical tripe you hear for balance….
___________________________________

One day, I’ll find a way to make this process less haphazard…. today it seemed as if the pearls kept following the discussion, popping up to say, “Oh, look how perfectly I fit here!…” while I’m looking for a new one to use for the next pearl. And then, finding pearls that don’t lend themselves to discussion, being too perfect as they are…. Ah well, I can’t complain, I guess…. it’s done. And done fairly well, so it will have to fly as it is, once again…. 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!