Bilking nuns as an Olympic event….

Ffolkes,
They say, when they are in the mood, that Life is like a Mounds Bar…. sometimes you feel like a nut, sometimes you don’t. I’m not sure just what scientific research was accessed to come up with that summation, but it works, mostly. It certainly applies to my head in the mornings….

“Beginnings are delicate times” — Princess Irulan, from Dune, by Frank Herbert

The Princess was a Bene Gesserit scholar in the book, the contracted wife of the Emperor of the Galaxy, Muad ‘Dib, Paul Atreides, Spirit of Shai-hulud, married to him to seal the peace with House Corrino, and legitimize his ascension. None of this, of course, means anything outside the book, but it sounds impressive, doesn’t it? And the statement she makes is oh, so true!

The entire balance of events in any situation involving people depends heavily on the impressions made in the beginning. Wars have been fought, and have ended, because of what happened when two opposing forces meet for the first time. Initial impressions are the strongest, and the most difficult to change. Thus it becomes an important tool for those with power to examine a situation closely, before committing anything, and to take care to create the desired impression at first contact.

This concept applies in many other life events. As well, it is a most relevant concept in literature, and can be considered essential knowledge for me and other would-be writers. The beginning of a story, or a book, or an essay, or even a medical/psychiatric report, is very important to fulfilling the purpose of writing whatever it may be. At least, it is important if the writer wants the reader to continue reading after the opening paragraph. If those first words don’t grab the reader’s attention, and pin it to the page, then there is little hope of ever getting them to read, or to consider what is being written as anything other than a waste of time….. That is human nature, and isn’t going to change.

So, if I have your attention now, we can get on with the reason we are here, to Pearl.  With no further mucking about, let’s have at it, shall we?…..
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Why shouldn’t WOMEN have to put the toilet seat back UP?! — Smart Bee

When I was working, a popular subject for water-cooler discussion was the ongoing, never-ending war between the sexes. For some reason not clear to me, men and women seem to feel as if they are in competition with each other, in a contest to find the most annoying things about the other sex, and make fun of them for those qualities. One of the typical conflicts between the two has always been the toilet seat, a conflict arising out of the very basic differences in the plumbing system of each gender. Men are pointers, women are setters, and the difference is critical only because we both use the same appliance to deal with our needs.

The above question is often asked by men, usually after an argument over having failed to put it down after using the facilities. Being a man, it naturally seems to be a relevant question to me, but for some reason it just seems to piss off the woman involved. I mean, it DOES have hinges; the process of moving it up and down isn’t rocket science, and isn’t particularly hard to figure out. But, due to the ongoing hostilities, women have decreed that it is the responsibility of men to make sure the seat is in the down position, ready for the female to use. How this came to be will, no doubt, forever remains a mystery, but is nonetheless true.

“There will always be a battle between the sexes because men and women want different things. Men want women and women want men.” — George Burns

Thus far in history, at least that part of history since the invention of the toilet, and the hinged seat for it, a solution has never been found. It often seems to me that men and women must enjoy the ongoing war, because neither side seems willing to approach the issue with anything other than ego and divisiveness.

No real solution has ever been sought, to my knowledge. Women spend their time trying to “domesticate” their men to put the seat down after using the toilet, and men spend their time ignoring them, thus ensuring that the conflict will continue. It all seems a bit pointless to me, as I can see two or three possible answers to the question that would serve to ease the hostilities…..

No one can see their reflection in running water. It is only in still water that we can see. — Taoist Proverb

This little gem from Taoist philosophy holds the key to the end of the war. If men and women can, just for a few moments, look at the matter with logic, with the purpose of improving the situation, I believe the answers will make themselves apparent. One answer, in my mind, needs no physical effort at all; it involves a difficulty, but only because people find it difficult to make changes in themselves. If both men and women could, and would, put aside the anger and emotional investment in the conflict, then one small attitude adjustment would suffice to remove the entire problem…..

If men could develop some sensitivity (I know, tough when it’s essentially foreign to their nature, but still possible to develop….), then they could see how leaving it up could conceivably cause problems for those who must sit down to use the appliance. As a matter of fact, this is how I personally became aware of the solution, for I once sat down to use the toilet, and found myself falling into the bowl, as someone had left the seat up, and I hadn’t noticed. It wasn’t the most pleasant of experiences, and from that time on, I was more conscientious about putting it down…. so, just a bit of empathy, and that won’t be a problem for men to take the second to put the seat down…..

Women would also need to develop more empathy for men for the solution to work for them. The toilet seat is on hinges, and as mentioned, isn’t particularly hard to learn how to use. It’s just up or down, and no other choices. So, some tolerance for the forgetfulness that is part of the male nature would go a long way toward solving the bitterness when they leave it up; just put it down for goodness sake, and don’t complicate the issue with anger and emotional storms, all over a moment that in other situations would prompt the woman to feel affection for the man’s charming childishness…..

Another solution presents itself to my awareness, as well. The toilet, and the whole system we use, have not been looked at with the intent of improving it for centuries. The toilets we use today would be recognizable to John Harrington, inventor of flushing toilets in 1596; it hasn’t changed shape or basic function since its invention all those centuries ago.

It seems to me that a clever engineer could figure out some way to eliminate the need for the toilet seat altogether, thus eliminating the whole issue. (No comments, please, on using the word elimination in re: this whole issue. It works, it fit, so get your mind out of the gutter for a bit….)  I mean, we can put men on the moon, and currently have people living in space on the ISS; why on earth can’t we figure out how to make a toilet easy to use for both sexes…. Seems like a no-brainer to me…. But, since no brains are involved in the process, I guess that isn’t surprising….
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Noah

R.I.P. Old Friend

    Yesterday, I tried to include a picture of Noah, but couldn’t make it fit. I’ve played with it a bit, and got it into an acceptable size. Here, then, is a picture of one of the world’s best dogs…. May he rest in peace….
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A Faery Song

{Sung by the people of Faery over Diarmuid and Grania,}
{in their bridal sleep under a Cromlech.}

We who are old, old and gay,
O so old!
Thousands of years, thousands of years,
If all were told:
Give to these children, new from the world,
Silence and love;
And the long dew-dropping hours of the night,
And the stars above:
Give to these children, new from the world,
Rest far from men.
Is anything better, anything better?
Tell us it then:
Us who are old, old and gay,
O so old!
Thousands of years, thousands of years,
If all were told.

William Butler Yeats
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Well, to my mind, it doesn’t seem like much…. but it will have to do. The new format does take less time to put together, but I’m not sure yet that it will fulfill all I need it to do…. Time will tell, I guess. In the meantime, y’all take care out there, and May the Metaphorse be with you….


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

gigoid

Kowabunga!

A strange trip, and long….

Ffolkes,
Since retiring from my job on the last day of 2010, I’ve been writing a lot. For years, my need to write was sublimated at work, writing reports and evaluations according to set rules and formats, on specific subjects. All the dross that builds up in my head just kept sitting there, growing into a pile of emotionally charged opinions, radical political thoughts, religious heresies, and humorous observations on human nature that promised to bury me should it ever fall over. Fortunately for me, I was forced to retire, even though not fully prepared, and the chance to do something to reduce the pile presented itself…..

The human heart has hidden treasures, in secret kept, in silence sealed.” — Charlotte Bronte

In at least a therapeutic sense, it came at just the right time, as I had a lot of angst and anger built up over the way I was treated when I left work. All that anger was, of course, useless to me, other than as a stimulus to write. Once began, the dam burst, and what I’ve been keeping inside came tumbling out, in daily portions of anywhere from 500 to 2500 words. It has been extremely liberating on an intellectual level, as I don’t believe I’ve ever had the opportunity to write exactly how I feel about “life and all that stuff” to any great degree.

Now, since beginning my own blog, first on SFGATE, and now on WordPress, I have allowed myself to show the darkest stuff that I have in there, at least in the political and religious fields, and the feeling is one of stupendous relief. Being able to get all that stuff out of my head has helped me in a lot of ways not immediately apparent to the casual eye; I do believe it was beginning to fester in there…..

I’m not sure exactly what I’m trying to say here, except that I feel pretty grateful, all in all, for having been able to write like I have for the last year and some…. grateful for both the opportunity, and for the wherewithal. And I am especially grateful for all the ffolkes that have come to read my work, and comment, and generally show the kind of support that only true friends can show.

Without having met anyone face to face, I can truthfully say that I’ve met a large number of people here that I am very proud and happy to consider as friends, and my only regret is that there isn’t enough time in the day to be able to read as much of their work as I’d wish to get to. But it remains a very well-appreciated gift to have all of that available to read; I never have to worry about finding something entertaining or interesting, because every one of the blogs I follow has the power to give me both….

So, to all those who have come here to read, and those who comment, thanks very much for stopping in, and I hope that what I write continues to draw your interest. I can guarantee that what I write will not always be politically correct (thank goodness!), nor will it always be comfortable…. but it will always be real, and it will always be mine…. I think it’s time to go Pearl, don’t you? ……

“And here, poor fool, with all my lore I stand no wiser than before.” — Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (1749-1832)
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Bright Star

Bright star, would I were steadfast as thou art–
Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night
And watching, with eternal lids apart,
Like nature’s patient, sleepless Eremite,
The moving waters at their priestlike task
Of pure ablution round earth’s human shores,
Or gazing on the new soft-fallen mask
Of snow upon the mountains and the moors–
No–yet still steadfast, still unchangeable,
Pillow’d upon my fair love’s ripening breast,
To feel for ever its soft fall and swell,
Awake for ever in a sweet unrest,
Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath,
And so live ever–or else swoon to death.

John Keats

A Drinking Song

WINE comes in at the mouth
And love comes in at the eye;
That’s all we shall know for truth
Before we grow old and die.
I lift the glass to my mouth,
I look at you, and I sigh.

William Butler Yeats

Of late I find myself turning more often to poetry for recreational reading. Keats and Yeats, (and what are the odds of that similarity?), are two of my favorites, not surprisingly. Today I’ve put one of each of their pieces out for your perusal and enjoyment, and to assuage my practicality gene, which prompts me to make everything I write of some usefulness. So, this is your daily lesson in comparative literature; you won’t be awarded any points, but it will prepare you for the quiz that will come at the end of the week….. otherwise, just enjoy! It’s not every day you get two classic poets in one blog….
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“Most people can’t think, most of the remainder won’t think, the small fraction who do think mostly can’t do it very well.” — Robert Heinlein, Time Enough for Love

Robert Heinlein was considered by his peers to be the Grand Master of Science Fiction, and with good reason. One of those reasons is his insight into human nature, a key element in creating the believable characters with which his books are populated. The above statement is a good indication of this insight, and is an idea that I’ve held as true for most of my adult life. It helps soothe the emotional turmoil that happens every time another bozoid member of the beloved ruling class opens their mouth to insert their foot…. It also keeps me from being disappointed when I face the daily proof of how dumb folks can be, said proof being presented on a regular basis online or in newspapers and TV shows.

Even though I consider myself to be a member of the last group mentioned, I am also realistic, and know that I am part of the majority of those who think, those who don’t always do it very well. If I did, I’d probably not be living in poverty. I’m perfectly aware that it was my own angry reaction to my employer’s rudeness that complicated the retirement process, and has placed me in this position of having to survive until all of my retirement resources have been garnered for use.

If I had paid more attention to my cosmic judo, I would have just let them push me out as disabled, gotten my State Disability Retirement, and would now be enjoying my Social Security. But, noooo, I had to spend six months arguing with the State to placate my pride. I won, in that I got what I wanted from them, but in the process, screwed myself…. typical human behavior, but nonetheless disappointing to know that my bozoid tendencies can still rule my behavior…..

Ah well, now I must use other parts of what I’ve learned over the years, to enable me to put aside my disappointment in myself, and move on to rectify the situation. I’m getting where I need to go, but having to keep myself under strict control to keep from banging my head against the nearest hard surface every time I am confronted with another delay. Sheesh! One more thing that they don’t tell you about in any of the retirement planning manuals….

The statement above doesn’t help me much in this situation, other than to make it clearer why things take so long to get done in the SS and federal bureaucracy. In fact, this insight is most useful for just that…. to help understand why the world is going along the way it is, limping and rushing toward extinction for our species. The inability to think, and worse, the reluctance that most folks have to think, is one of the root causes of why the world is going to shit…. and it’s getting worse all the time, as the forces of ignorance gain ever more of a foothold in society.

The current Presidential political scene that is developing ahead of the election in November is truly a frightening prospect to anyone with more than two functioning neurons between their ears….. I find it incomprehensible, if all-too-believable, that the race is as close as it appears to be. I’ve seen reports that, before even being officially picked as the Republican candidate, Mitt Romney, or more accurately, the Republican platform, has more committed electoral votes than I would have believed possible.

I don’t think that there is much of a real chance that the incumbent won’t be re-elected; there is just too much time left until November, and I don’t think that Mitt will be able to keep his mouth shut long enough to keep from self-destructing. But, the tendency of the media to blow up anything they see to sell stories gives him far too much credence, and may complicate the matter. Time will tell, but it makes me nervous, as there are too many historical precedents of the idiocy of the voters to help me feel very relaxed about it…. and neither should you be…..    I predict that if Romney even gets close to being elected, there will be an upheaval that this country hasn’t seen in over 200 years, as the forces of ignorance contend with those among us, such as myself, who will be moved to act if the election results go south… and it won’t be a move toward compliance, or submission to a new order….

REVOLUTION, n.  In politics, an abrupt change in the form of misgovernment.  Specifically, in American history, the substitution of the rule of an Administration for that of a Ministry, whereby the welfare and happiness of the people were advanced a full half-inch. Revolutions are usually accompanied by a considerable effusion of blood, but are accounted worth it — this appraisement being made by beneficiaries whose blood had not the mischance to be shed.  The French revolution is of incalculable value to the Socialist of to-day; when he pulls the string actuating its bones its gestures are inexpressibly terrifying to gory tyrants suspected of fomenting law and order. — Ambrose Bierce, “The Devil’s Dictionary”
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I think I’ve rambled enough for one morning; reality is calling me to get on with the rest of the day. So, I’m going to cheat a little…. Below is a picture I found on Facebook; I titled it “The Last Will and Testament of Noah”, as it seemed to fit what I believe he would have said, if he could speak. He lived with me about 17 and a half years, passing away last August. I’ve spoken of him often here, and will no doubt do so again in the future. A short time after he passed away, I wrote a tribute to him and our life together. That piece “An Ode to Noah” can be found here:  http://therealowner.com/dogs/an-ode-to-noah/  This picture says it all, for me…. and yes, I know, I’m a softie at heart….___________________________________

Duty calls, and I must answer, so I will now be ruthless….as much as I ever 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

Kowabunga!

Old~new dogs~tricks…..

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

gigoid

Dozer

Kowabunga!


Irrational numbers often resist emulsification….

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~ Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

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

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

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

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

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


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

gigoid

Kowabunga!

Clouds of vacuous attendants….

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

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

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

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

— Robert Fulghum

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

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

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

Alexander Pope

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

— Holst, Savitri (based upon the sanskrit Mahabharata)

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

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


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

gigoid

Kowabunga!

Under no obligation of law…..

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And I asked myself about the present: how wide it was, how deep it was, how much was mine to keep.” — Kurt Vonnegut Jr.
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I see the lights of the village
gleam through the rain and the mist.
And a feeling of sadness comes o’er me,
that my soul cannot resist.
A feeling of sadness and longing
that is not akin to pain,
And resembles sorrow only
as the mist resembles rain.
— Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882), The Day is done

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

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

Well, that’s better…. found this, and it produces a much more amenable state of mind…. thanks, Bill….
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“There is no absurdity so palpable but that it may be firmly planted in the human head if only you begin to inoculate it before the age of five, by constantly repeating it with an air of great solemnity.” — Arthur Schopenhauer (1788-1860)

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

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

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

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

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

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

Be a hero! Teach your children to think for THEMSELVES! — Smart Bee
___________________________________    No reason… it just made me smile…. found on Facebook….
___________________________________    Since I don’t have any such words just now…. I’m cheating a bit, and using the picture, to save myself a thousand words…… also found on Facebook….
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Sometimes, one must go with the flow…. this Pearl was doomed from the beginning, what with the way my day started. I’m not going to apologize, as this one has everything in it that I have the wherewithal to create. All you can do is all you can do…. So, y’all take care out there, and May the Metaphorse be with you…..


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

gigoid

Kowabunga!

Many times many is few enough….

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

And pain? Well…. let’s just say it is being a bit more obvious today, and let it go at that…. I’ll be using a couple extra pain pills today, for sure…. and the process of making a Pearl promises to take a Herculean effort. But, hey, I’ve got nothing better to do, so, I may as well quit complaining and get on with it…. shall we Pearl? I think we’d better….
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“I know not with what weapons World War III will be fought, but World War IV will be fought with sticks and stones.” — Albert Einstein

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

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

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

“Better contraceptives will control population only if people will use them. A nuclear holocaust can be prevented only if the conditions under which nations make war can be changed. The environment will continue to deteriorate until pollution practices are abandoned. We need to make vast changes in human behavior.” — B. F. Skinner, Beyond Freedom and Dignity
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“You would think living alone would free me from all the normal burdens of responsibility that people complain or worry about, but all living alone does is increase your psychological weight, as if your soul were living on Jupiter. It tends to make you more important to yourself and exaggerate your problems to the point that they’re insurmountable afflictions.” — from a fictional novel, supposedly spoken by T. Ruzak, in “The Highly Effective Detective Goes to the Dogs”, a book by Richard Yancy

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The secret of life is to appreciate the pleasure of being terribly deceived.” — Oscar Wilde
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“All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost.
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost.

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

~ John Ronald Reuel Tolkien

No comments here, just a poetry break….

“Poetry is eternal graffiti written in the heart of everyone.” ~ Lawrence Ferlinghetti
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“Our words must seem to be inevitable.” ~ William Butler Yeats

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

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

With that in mind, I think it is inevitable at this point to let this stand as it exists, as I don’t see how I can improve it much with a lot more verbiage…. So, onward…. but keep in mind that the above statement is a goal of this blog, and feel free to comment if and when it ever occurs….
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Had I the heaven’s embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

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

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


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

gigoid

Kowabunga!

Even running amok requires proper attire….

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

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

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

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

Now that we are completely off the track, let’s try to get back into Pearling mode, shall we? Without further distraction, we will now enter the world of deep knowledge known as the WWW; watch for the oysters, and try to spot the ones with pearls….
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If you lie, you’ll cheat. And if you cheat, you’ll steal. — Smart Bee

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

In truth, I have to say, sorry, I’m not sorry, and this is exactly the impression I’m trying to give you….. I wouldn’t want to lie to you, now would I?…..
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“I have realized that the past and future are real illusions, that they exist in the present, which is what there is and all there is.” — Alan Watts

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

John Donne

No worries…. morning poetry break…. enjoy!….
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We all do some of our best thinking in places that otherwise might not be considered particularly conducive to deep, complex subjects; serendipity comes where it may, though…. and it just occurred to me, in another room that shall be nameless for the sake of delicacy, why I’ve been struggling so hard of late to produce these Pearls.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This also, in short order, should act as a spur toward being able to read more blogs, which will be good, too. I’ve been feeling some guilt, something I almost never give in to, because I’ve been unable to get to a lot of sites where I’ve become attached to the authors and their work…. But, I’ve been instructed by at least one of them that I am not to feel guilty, so I won’t. I’ll just be glad I can get back to reading some of them….   and back to eating, er, reading, a book a day….
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There is something to be said, I guess, for falling asleep at 6 PM and sleeping straight through to 4 AM. This process went much more smoothly this morning, after a couple of rough starts. More proof that “sleep is a weapon”, no doubt…..

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


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

gigoid

Kowabunga!

The stigma of chronic satyriasis….

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“All national institutions of churches, whether Jewish, Christian, or Turkish, appear to me no other than human inventions, set up to terrify and enslave mankind, and monopolize power and profit.” — Thomas Paine
___________________________________    Obviously, no further comment needed…. But, doesn’t it just make you proud to speak and write English?…. Besides, I’m still having trouble finding material this morning, and this is a good little distraction…. Onward….
___________________________________

A Thing of Beauty (Endymion)
A thing of beauty is a joy for ever:
Its loveliness increases; it will never
Pass into nothingness; but still will keep
A bower quiet for us, and a sleep
Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.
Therefore, on every morrow, are we wreathing
A flowery band to bind us to the earth,
Spite of despondence, of the inhuman dearth
Of noble natures, of the gloomy days,
Of all the unhealthy and o’er-darkn’d ways
Made for our searching: yes, in spite of all,
Some shape of beauty moves away the pall
From our dark spirits. Such the sun, the moon,
Trees old and young, sprouting a shady boon
For simple sheep; and such are daffodils
With the green world they live in; and clear rills
That for themselves a cooling covert make
‘Gainst the hot season; the mid-forest brake,
Rich with a sprinkling of fair musk-rose blooms:
And such too is the grandeur of the dooms
We have imagined for the mighty dead;
An endless fountain of immortal drink,
Pouring unto us from the heaven’s brink.

John Keats

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

Huh?

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

I repeat, Huh?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The last good thing I saw on TV was the off switch.” — J. Craig Brunson (craig@ukpr.uky.edu)
___________________________________

What an epic battle! I hope none of the blood splattered on your clothes…. this turned into the most difficult of all the Pearls I’ve ever created. In the end, I was forced to give up trying to find a quote, and went for the cheap laughs…. But I’m not taking any of it back, as it took too much effort to get it into the shape it now assumes. We’ll see how it looks once we get it onto the blog page before I make any decisions as to its value….

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

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


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

gigoid

Kowabunga!

Which is the silliest objective?

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

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

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

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

Well, as can be seen, things may wander a bit today, so I’d best start wending my way toward the end….. the beginning will have to cope on its own at this point; I can do no more for it, and will just let it die a natural death….. let’s go Pearl….
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Fate steals along with silent tread,
Found oftenest in what least we dread;
Frowns in the storm with angry brow,
But in the sunshine strikes the blow.
— Cowper

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It broke my heart when Noah and I were told to move, never to see Tony again. Noah would often wander around the new house, looking for something, then come and look at me as if to ask where Tony was…. it was tough, believe me, and still hurts…. Which goes to show,I like animals much more than I like most humans…. and for good reason….
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“One can’t complain. I have my friends. Someone spoke to me only yesterday.” — A.A. Milne’s Eeyore

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

gigoid

Kowabunga!