Tag Archives: Philosophy

They’ll pay handsomely for authentic Azaleas….

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31

Ffolkes,
Far be it from me to moan and complain about the Universe…. I wasn’t around to consult when it was slapped together (Six, seven days? Really? I’d suspect shoddy workmanship for a job of that size so rushed, regardless of the contractor’s reputation….), or happened randomly, or belched from the belly of a Great Turtle, or whatever, so I have no basis for complaint. But, I’ve got to say, and I know I’m not being original when I do,  this getting old shit really sucks big time…. I won’t bore you with my own particular litany of aches, pains, and embarrassing body function stories…. suffice it to say that it all adds up after  a while, and let’s one know…. this SUCKS!

There…. just had to get that out…..  and a happy good morning to you!  As indicated in the first paragraph, my being able to say that, at all, was very nearly compromised by the way I feel physically this morning. So, let us be particularly happy in response to that, for if nothing else, pain lets you know you are alive, and that is certain. Sure, I could lay around, stiff and aching, dose myself with a couple of extra pain pills, and generally feel like 67 inches of piled up….. well, you know.

Instead, here I am, fingers affixed to the keyboard (which is showing a bit of wear after these past 12 months of severe daily use…. can’t see all of the A, S, E, or J keys, as the letters have rubbed off….), ignoring the tingling and spasming under my scapula, and waiting (with growing impatience….) for my Muse to get up. Damn fool was out again last night, partying, without me, and doesn’t want to roll out & get to work. Let’s all give him/her (I’m never sure about immortals, they could be messing with my head) a big, loud,  Awww, poor baby!, shall we?….. Okay, maybe not….

Let’s go Pearl, instead, okay?….. Okay!….
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One of the bloggers I am now following commented yesterday, in response to a post by a sex trade survivor that was re-blogged on this site, and in the comment recommended a Young Adult novel on the subject, called “SOLD”. She couldn’t remember the author’s name, but Google found it first try, as usual, so I am including below part of a Wikipedia article on the book. I intend to check it out at my first opportunity, and hope that many more folks will follow that example. A link to the article is included below:

“To see what is right and not to do it is cowardice.” — Cervantes

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sold_%28novel%29

“Sold” is a novel by Patricia McCormick, published in 2006. It tells the story of a girl from Nepal named Lakshmi, who is sold into sexual slavery in India. The novel is written in a series of short, vignette-style chapters, from the point of view of the main character.

Lakshmi is a thirteen-year-old girl who lives with her family in a small hut in the mountains of Nepal. Her family is desperately poor, but her life is full of simple pleasures, like raising her black-and-white speckled goat, and having her mother brush her hair by the light of an oil lamp. But when the harsh Himalayan monsoons wash away all that remains of the family’s crops, Lakshmi’s stepfather says she must leave home and take a job to support her family.

He introduces her to a glamorous stranger who tells her she will find her a job as a maid working for a wealthy woman in the city. Glad to be able to help, Lakshmi undertakes the long journey to India and arrives at “Happiness House” full of hope. But she soon learns the unthinkable truth: she has been sold into prostitution. Main characters include “An old woman named Mumtaz rules the brothel with cruelty and cunning. She tells Lakshmi that she is trapped there until she can pay off her family’s debt – then cheats Lakshmi of her meager earnings so that she can never leave.” Lakshmi’s life becomes a nightmare from which she cannot escape. Still, she lives by her mother’s words – “Simply to endure is to triumph” – and gradually, she forms friendships with the other girls that enable her to survive in this terrifying new world. — from Wikipedia.

Ms. McCormick spent some years interviewing women and girls in India, when she was able to get them to agree to talk to her, in spite of their fear of being used by someone they didn’t know or trust, a fear that is sadly common in sex slaves, no matter in which part of the world they are held enslaved.

“Although it is tempting to resent disaster, there is not much use in doing so… Whether we remain ash or become the phoenix is up to us.” — Deng Ming-Dao 

(In the case of abducted sex trade workers, who have absolutely no choice to be where they are, this seems a bit tactless; however, the ending thought remains true for all that….)
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“Think not forever of yourselves, O Chiefs, nor of your own generation. Think of continuing generations of our families, think of our grandchildren and of those yet unborn, whose faces are coming from beneath the ground.” — Peacemaker, founder of the Iroquois Confederacy, (ca. 1000 AD)

Things around here, (here being defined as my head, as well as the space it inhabits, and, by extension, this blog…) have been a mite serious lately. Some heavy stuff being considered, and shared. Some might be tempted to say, “finally!”. Others, more observant, might say, “Oh, I hadn’t noticed it got more serious….” And most would say, “Huh?”  For the last group, I can only say, PAY ATTENTION, PLEASE!

🙂

But no matter what anyone says, “I” feel that way, so I thought I’d take just a moment to consider the above, which, if no less serious in its intent, or its depth of insight, is much more comforting a thought for examination and/or meditation. In that light, seriousness assumes the welcome aspect of a heart with wings…. just enjoy it, and take it with you when you go about the rest of your day….. I will, because it feels good in the spirit pouch that sits under my shirt, next to my heart…..
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“Today’s public figures can no longer write their own speeches or books, and there is some evidence that they can’t read them either.” — Gore Vidal

It’s been a while since I ranted, or even commented, on the antics of our beloved ruling class, and the media circus that travels around with the crop of candidates hoping to attain center stage in the November Frenzy later this year. I’ve been distracted from that, (thank goodness!….) by other, even more important matters. Stop human trafficking or Laugh at Bozos…. Hmm, not a tough choice for me, though tempting, for sure…. the second is MUCH easier to write about, and the evidence one requires for bounteous hilarity is provided on a daily basis by the cast themselves. It’s really hard NOT to write one of my beloved rants on a daily basis, because it’s always a joy to work with such fertile material for humor.

Hence this brief foray into that hole of darkness, which around here (see above) we like to call, “Kokopelli’s Revenge, Part Four.”
(Side note: if the previous reference is vague, take a moment later to Google Kokopelli; he’s a fascinating character all by himself….)  Where was I? Ah… for the record, I made this up this morning…..

So, a priest, a rabbi, and a Republican walk into a bar. The priest, looking a bit flushed, having just come (sorry) from his last session counseling his young charges, says plaintively, “Set me up a Scotch there, bartender, and be quick about it!” The rabbi, brushing the dust from his yarmulke, glances up with a grim visage, to order; “An absinthe, if you please, goyim.”  The Republican, stiff and looking uncomfortable in his red tie, blue blazer, and American flag lapel pin says, “I’ll have a Shirley Temple, you liberal asshole.”

As the bartender sets down the drinks, and collects the money, he asks, “So, what’s with all the bad moods today?”  The priest says, “Bloody internet! Can’t hide anything but what they’re posting their damn photos online!”  The rabbi says, “A new archaeological find in Jerusalem seems to be an authentic statement, actually written by Jesus, the Christ of Nazareth. It confirms his divinity, and goes on to say that the Old Testament was nullified and declared to be false testimony, by Yahweh himself, as a 31st birthday present to Jesus…. and it’s been notarized by Saint Peter!”  Republican says, morosely, “My gay lover just came out of the closet on Oprah; and he showed them the ring I had inscribed with both our names……sniffle….”  The bartender, a long-time agnostic Libertarian, says, “Oh”.

There, now don’t your feel better? I know I do…..

“In spite of the recent progress in science, the depths of human imbecility have not yet been plumbed.” — H. Ellis

Once is an accident, twice is coincidence, thrice is enemy action. — Don’t know, but even older than Anonymous
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I will admit that this may get a bit repetitive, but hey, don’t care…. it’s got to be said when the urge strikes, whenever an example of the lies, and the long-standing nature of the plague of human trafficking in society, presents itself to us.  Hence, the following…..

“A woman takes off her claim to respect along with her garments.” — Herodotus

On first glance, one might tend to nod one’s head sagely, assume a serious and patriarchal mien, and agree with this statement, seemingly in accord with the deep insight that is implied (not proven, note, but implied…..). However, in light of what I’ve learned of late, I don’t think that a woman who has survived being held for years as a sex slave in modern America, or India, or China, or anywhere else in the world where it remains a cancerous blot on the social landscape, would have quite the same reaction, nor appreciate the complete and utter disregard it indicates for the real nature of women, or at least of those women who are free to be themselves without censure or threat.

No, I believe a woman as morally and ethically advanced as she, being the gracious, strong, forgiving person she has become (she always was; she just never had the chance before now to be so, freely and openly…..not if she wanted to live….), she would just smile, and calmly comment, “It’s clear that the lies that keep women enslaved are not of recent vintage, but have been spread around by ignorant misogynists, terrified of women’s nature, for a great many years.” With another gentle smile, she might add, “Well, he WAS Greek, wasn’t he? And we all know how the ancient Greeks felt about young boys as objects of desire. I suppose that would tend to skew one’s viewpoint in the direction of perversion.”  With that, she would absent herself, taking with her all of her strength of will, and the wild, terrible beauty of the phoenix.

And the assholes who spread these ignorant, hateful lies shall then tremble in fear, because I’m still there, right in the room with them. I’ve heard every word, I’m not a happy camper, and I’m holding a very large pistol to their temple….. ah, happy dreams!….. I figure, if I can fulfill that dream say, 1000 times a day all over the globe, it should begin to make a serious dent in the number of these WOS’s (ask in the Comment section, and I’ll provide the definition of the acronym) who are still alive, er, active.

At least, those not in hiding from the rest of humanity’s contingent of pissed off males, all tens of millions of them determined to make up for their long, somnolent, passive acceptance of the lies, and the dishonor of the abrogation of their duty, by eliminating the source of the problem…. or at least those assholes who refuse to repent and change their tune…..which, by the obvious evidence in their background, isn’t going to happen. That’s fine by me…. bullets are relatively cheap, compared to years and years of re-education, and close observation….
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“Once upon a time, there was a non-conforming sparrow who decided not to fly south for the winter.  However, soon after the weather turned cold, the sparrow changed his mind and reluctantly started to fly south. After a short time, ice began to form his on his wings and he fell to earth in a barnyard almost frozen.  A cow passed by and crapped on this little bird and the sparrow thought it was the end, but the manure warmed him and defrosted his wings.  Warm and happy the little sparrow began to sing.  Just then, a large Tom cat came by, and hearing the chirping, investigated the sounds.  As Old Tom cleared away the manure, he found the chirping bird and promptly ate him.”

There are three morals to this story:

(1) Everyone who shits on you is not necessarily your enemy.
(2) Everyone who gets you out of shit is not necessarily your friend.
(3) If you are warm and happy in a pile of shit, keep your mouth shut.

And, indeed, ’nuff said on that….. just trying to maintain an even balance here…. from our most frequent repeat contributor of pearls, Anonymous. Or maybe his great-grandson. Does it matter? No…..
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I must feel better. I must. Even though I went to bed late, I slept an extra two hours, and pretty well for a happy change. The coffee was hot & ready when I got up (thank you, technology!). My Muse reluctantly joined me midway, a bit worse for wear, by all visual evidence, but still creatively inspiring. Pearls were plentiful. And the hard drive didn’t crash or burp (knock on plastic…).

All in all, a satisfactory start to the day, which promises to keep me busy, it being payday. I get to hold on to my money, just long enough to go spread it around to all my most insistent creditors, where it gets sucked into the black hole of the American economy. Such fun!…. not.

That’s all, ffolkes, the well is dry, until the spring fills it back up…. y’all take care out there…..

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

gigoid

Kowabunga!

A twig of myrrh, a rasher of bacon, and a swift boat….

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2

Ffolkes,
The winds of fate are blowing, stirring our nascent memories of future pasts, pregnant with the possibility only the future can know. But mostly, we ignore it, in the face of what most concerns us at the time; car payments, taxes, doctor bills, all take precedence over what might be, or what could be. Funny, isn’t it? All our lives we make the same choices, never realizing that choosing to defy fate, or even enthusiastically embracing it, are both better options for us than ignoring it can ever be. Only embracing our fate, or standing up to it, no matter how frightening, can show us the path leading out of the mundane existence to which our misguided choices have led us, and back into a world filled with possibilities, and promise.

With that little nugget out instead of in, we may proceed to the next order of business on the agenda. Fortunately, I make the agenda, so let’s see what’s there for us today….. oh, look! Here is a nice list; I must have written it down last night while I was dreaming….

1) Answer knock on door; accept $25 million check for lottery win…

2) Take call from magazine editor who wants to pay me for Pearling; verify bank deposit of $5 million signing bonus….

3) Attend White House ceremony awarding me Citizen’s Medal of Honor, for my solution to the problem of world peace (which was signed into law at the world court day before yesterday. The necks of all the world leaders have all been fitted with their explosive collars, and the controls given to children all over the globe; peace now reigns, a bit nervously on the part of the leaders, I’d say….), and

4) Take a nap…..

hmmm, sounds like a solid plan to me….. until the knock on the door interrupts us, let us Pearl….
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“We cannot be more sensitive to pleasure without being more sensitive to pain.” — Alan Watts

Hence, ye profane! I hate ye all,
Both the great vulgar and the small.
— Abraham Cowley (1618-1667) — Horace, Book iii, Ode 1

A plague is loose upon our houses, an unseen and unwanted scourge of pandemic disease, and nothing is being done about it, at all, at all, except by its victims……

In today’s society, there exist many difficult issues and problems that affect all the diverse segments of our culture, not all of which are acknowledged. One of the most perniciously insidious of these hidden and/or ignored issues is that of the deeply offensive existence of the illegal, and in some places, legal sex trade, possibly the worst plague that has ever afflicted our race, one which has, sadly, been present for untold centuries, sucking away at the health, morality, and vitality of society with impunity.

The abduction and slavery of women, girls, and even boys in some cases, condemning them to a life of sexual bondage, is being perpetrated on a daily basis, in every culture in the world, organized by, operated by, and  in the process, making rich, the evil, sociopathic, misogynistic so-called men  whose self-hatred and ignorance is acted out upon unsuspecting, vulnerable women and children, robbing them of their very humanity, and leaving all of them severely damaged, emotionally, physically, and behaviorally (I confess to some hesitation in naming these creatures men. I see a man as something completely unrelated to any of these wastes of sperm).  It is, I believe, as pervasive, and equally as damaging in its hold on society, as the issue of racism currently flooding the news after the egregious, obviously racially motivated murder of Trayvon Williams.  But, I guarantee, the utter disregard for human life, and the craven cowardice of the men involved, the same as is so obvious in that sad event, is no less ubiquitous in the sex trade…. but no one is talking about prostitution on a national, regional, or local stage.

Back before human society became so complex, men who murdered, or men who were cowardly enough to abuse women & children, were dealt with, quickly and finally, and without appeal, by the other men of the tribe, by common consent and custom, and there was no doubt among the other members of the tribe as to the honor of such actions. This is the principle historic basis for honor among men, to my mind, and has been lost, or at least misplaced, as society has become more complex, blurring the once-clear limits drawn to proscribe such destructive anti-social behaviors.

Now that my own awareness has been awakened, my eyes opened fully at last, I am of the opinion that it is time for the real men in this society to take up the mantle of responsibility that they have long ignored or rejected, and begin the process of removing this stain from our collective honor. We, as a group, have failed to meet our Duty as humans, as men who are part of a society, to protect and defend the vulnerable and the weak in that society against the men, and even women, who would take advantage of that vulnerability for their own diseased purposes. To regain our honor will require us to act, with purpose and dispatch, to defend the subjects of our Duty, to the death if necessary.  It is the only way we can regain the honor we have lost through our unwillingness to see, and our failure to act.

In order to encourage the acceptance in today’s society of the need for action against the perpetrators of this atrocity, to hasten the release of those still held in thrall, and to promote the cause of those women whose strength and spirit have enabled them to save themselves from their enslaved state, I pledge to re-blog to this site every post I can possibly find written by one of these survivors who has found the strength and courage to tell their story, for as long as it takes, until my death intervenes to stop me, or the scourge, and those responsible for it, are eliminated from this plane of existence.

I’m happy to note that there are a significant number of these once enslaved, and now empowered women, who have found each other, and found strength in the unity of feeling and purpose that being supported has given them. As more links to their work come to my attention, I will be passing those on to my followers, who will hopefully do the same, until the necessary message has reached enough people who care to see that the needed changes in society are encompassed, not ignored or forgotten, as has been true for centuries now. It can only benefit all of us, and I’m not going to stop making noise about it, period, as long as it continues to exist. You can count on it…..

He took his vorpal sword in hand
Long time the manxom foe he sought
Till rested he by the tumtum tree
And stood awhile in thought
— _Jabberwocky_, by Lewis Carroll (Charles Dodgson)

However many holy words you read,
However many you speak,
What good will they do you
If you do not act on upon them?
— Buddha
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So much depends
Upon
A red wheel
Barrow
Glazed with rain
Water
Beside the white chickens
— William Carlos Williams, _The Red Wheelbarrow_

In poetry, creating and displaying contrasting images can create their own strong responses in the brain, responses that can affect our every act in hidden ways. When you read the above poem, what do YOU see?  There are a series of sharp contrasts in the poem, created in part by the words themselves, but also enhanced by the position of those words in the structure of the poem. This will create a different response in every brain, I believe, and points out what I believe is true of all poetry, for all the people who read it.

In short, I believe that there is a special and significant part of the human brain that is solely responsible for our reaction to the poems we read, a part separate and distinct from that part of us that learns by reading prose. This part of us is connected directly to our sense of beauty, our sense of proportion, our sense of wonder, and our sense of justice. Each of those senses is one that is powerful in its hold on our behavior, and each plays an essential role in aligning our actions with our principles.

The direct effect this has on us is to immediately assign a high priority to whatever reaction in us the poem stimulates, a higher priority than might have been assigned from reading the same concepts in prose form. Thus, it frees our reaction, aiding it in achieving swift implementation, adding power and purpose to the ensuing actions. Essentially, our brains are able to make faster decisions, and develop faster responses to whatever the universe may dole out for its amusement, and in many, many instances, all documented in history, swift, decisive actions have a much higher success rate than do those less swiftly found and applied. And, as we all know, timing is everything……

“Literature. . . is the union of suffering with the instinct for form.” — Thomas Mann

And for the few that only lend their ear,
That few is all the world.
— Samuel Daniel (1562-1619) — Musophilus, Stanza 97
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“Skepticism is the chastity of the intellect, and it is shameful to surrender it too soon or to the first comer: there is nobility in preserving it coolly and proudly through long youth, until at last, in the ripeness of instinct and discretion, it can be safely exchanged for fidelity and happiness.” — George Santayana

This is a lovely and useful viewpoint to take as one’s own, but the message could have been presented with a bit more flair, I think. Perhaps it is an occupational hazard for philosophers to become pedantic, or just plain boring, when faced, as so often happens, with the task of trying to convey a subject of subtle depth and complexity to an audience not constitutionally prepared to receive it. I think the point could be made more attractive to, and more easily digested by, that subset of humanity if it were presented thus:

Being positive in life is all well and good,
and optimism will give you a half-full glass.
But in the end, to find the way out of the wood,
Doubt is a far better way to cover your ass!

gigoid wrote that….. for what it’s worth…..

“It has come to my attention that nothing I never said has caused me any harm. When I am gone, you will be sorry you never heard me say what I don’t usually. But if you had, it would have been memorable, which now it isn’t because you didn’t. I have enjoyed these occasional flashes of silence so much, since they enhance my conversation so delightfully. It is a pleasure for those who do not listen, so they don’t have to hear what I do not say, which is one of the major reasons why I don’t say what I do not do. I hope this clears up all the confusion.”
— Anonymous

🙂
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“It is probably not love that makes the world go around, but rather those mutually supportive alliances through which partners recognize their dependence on each other for the achievement of shared and private goals.” — Fred Allen

When I first came upon this, I started chuckling about half-way through, and it wasn’t until finishing that the reason why occurred to me. At the final word, my mind said to me “Hilarious! What a ridiculously superfluous train of thought, expressed with far too many words, and completely losing the clarity, relevance, and simple grandeur of the initial phrase.” (Well, it was a little pithier than that; my internal editor re-phrased it for me on the way to the page….) This man obviously had far too much time on his hands, and should have found something more useful to occupy his mind for that period of time when this was produced. He, and the rest of the world, would have been far better served had he turned his oh-so-mundane powers of perception on say, bathroom etiquette, or mushroom farming, or something he was more qualified to comment upon; it is clear that if he himself was ever in love, it was with an accountant……. ah well, it takes all kinds, I suppose…..
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“If you can’t say somethin’ nice, don’t say nothin’ at all.” — Thumper (1942)

I used to believe this to be the single best thing a Disney character ever said. And, all things considered, it is still a good policy for maintaining good everyday relations between people; what you don’t say can never be held against you.  But, I can no longer hold it as my standard for all avenues of expression; if so, I’d have to give up writing altogether, as saying stuff that isn’t very nice comprises a significant percentage of my output.  I do try to maintain a certain level of dignity, but with some of the issues I’ve come to be passionate about, I’m not going to limit myself to merely the nice stuff. Positivity is fine, in its place, but I’ll be frank; it’s not universally applicable in certain situations, and I won’t accept it as a limit to my choice of potentially useful actions. In short, it is not always the right path to success, an idea long expressed in our success-oriented culture as “nice guys finish last.”

Over time, I’ve come to realize that there are instances when the civilized man must put aside his civility, and connect with a baser side of his spirit.  If, for example, I were ever to find myself alone in a room with a man I know to be involved in trafficking of human flesh, of prostituting and abusing women, for whatever reason he may have in his sick, tiny little brain, I will not be speaking to him nicely, or make any misguided attempts to appeal to his better nature.  Most likely I wouldn’t speak with, or to, him at all; I’d probably just kill him in silence, quickly, without hesitation or mercy, like the vermin he is; with my bare hands if possible, for my sense of satisfaction, but with a bullet between his eyes if not. And then I would walk out the door, leaving his useless carcass there to rot.  But that’s another story, for another day….. Besides, hearing that might scare Thumper, and that’s just wrong….
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As we approach the end of another morning of self-indulgent self-expression, I find myself unusually tired. Of course, that may be a direct result of only four hours sleep, followed by two hours of unfettered, energy consuming thought, and the creation of today’s offering. Probably doesn’t indicate any superiority of the results of that effort, but it does speak to the perseverance I’ve shown on little sustenance of a physical nature….

Long story short, I think I’m gonna eat some breakfast, and go back to bed for a couple hours. I know, I know, terrible for my overall health, exercise-wise, but much more attractive in my current state than the concept of me outside, running, or even walking faster than a stroll; a terrifying prospect at best. No matter in the long run…. it’s my karma, and I’ll ignore it if I want to….so there…..   🙂    Y’all take care out there…..and watch out for stobor! They’re vicious this time of the year…..

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

gigoid

Kowabunga!

Billy’s just here to pick up the meatloaf, mister….

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11

Ffolkes,
Yesterday, my blog on WordPress reached a milestone….. I’m informed by the statistical ‘bots that I now have 101 followers of my blog!  This is a gratifying moment for me, and a most welcome encouragement that I’m doing something right, at least. I have, mostly, done very little to promote the blog, beyond posting it to Twitter and Facebook.  My only other activity that might fit that category is that I also follow well over a hundred blogs, of which I read every one I get a notice for, (I am a very fast reader) and I’m pretty active in the comments section.

So, what this tells me is that my followers are all here as a result of either serendipity (they clicked on random suggested blog with a tag they like), or because of word-of-mouth, i.e., someone recommended it to them. This is the most gratifying part for me, as it tells me that the ffolkes who are following me are also telling others what they like here, and sending them here to read.

So, I would like to take this moment here at the beginning today, to shout out a huge THANK YOU to all the ffolkes who have read and liked what I’ve written, with a big hug and sloppy one on the cheek for all those who have re-blogged or recommended my work to someone else. All of the above is very much appreciated, and I can only hope that I can continue to produce material that people enjoy, and maybe bring a smile, or a stimulating thought, to someone’s morning.

Thank you….gracias…. multi grazie…. merci beaucoup….. domo arigato…..xie xie….. danke sehr…. and, again, thank you one and all for your support and encouragement. May the lives and fortunes of all of my new found friends be ever growing and ever more dear, and may they always walk in Beauty…… Yah ta hey!  Mi taku oyasin.  (We are all related.)

Well, that was fun…. it’s humbling to reach a milestone like this, to know that one now has a responsibility, to write well enough to justify the support and belief that people have shown to me, so I’d best be about it, hadn’t I? Nothing will get written just sitting here basking in the after-glow…..  So, take a few deep breaths, blow out one last time until you are empty, then fill up your lungs as much as you can. Pinch your nose, open up your bright eyes, and your shiny mind, and let’s dive…. the Pearls are a’waitin’…..
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“All art is autobiographical. The pearl is the oyster’s autobiography.” — Federico Fellini

It has been a while since I talked about Pearls, so when I stumbled upon the above quote, I knew it was time….. Pearls of Virtual Wisdom come with a caveat and disclaimer, to wit: These Pearls consist of ideas and concepts, and even procedures, that are Virtual Wisdom. They should never be confused with, or used as, Real Wisdom; the results can be somewhat unpredictable, have been known to cause injury, and in at least one case, (my own), have resulted in months of severe depression. (Of course, that depression may not be due strictly to the intrinsic differences in the Pearls themselves, but rather a direct result of inattention to which variety I was using at the moment)  Regardless of how real Pearls of Virtual Wisdom may appear, or how shiny they look to the untrained eye, the author assumes no liability for failure to heed this caveat.

That being said, let us for a moment consider pearls as incarnations of jewels, as the precious gems of rare beauty and great value they become when freed from the oyster, the shelter which created each layer of the pearl’s beauty out of its own pain…. The soft sheen of a fine pearl, luminescent in the dimness, glowing in the light, has captivated the eyes and imaginations of men and women since the first oyster was plucked from the sea bed to enhance someone’s supper, and has inspired those who fall under its spell to acts of great sacrifice, as well as acts of great cruelty, in the quest to possess these timeless treasures from the sea.

Thus the metaphorical nature of the Pearls of Virtual Wisdom becomes apparent, as we see that, although virtual wisdom looks just like real wisdom, the difference may be likened to the difference between naturally produced pearls, and those that are cultivated in laboratories.  One is shiny, and of great value for its rarity and beauty, naturally endowed; the other is shiny, but of lesser value, due to lesser rarity, and a somehow lesser beauty, as made by the hand of man.

The subtle differences are of little note, except to Reality, which always knows which wisdom is which, as it knows which pearl is which; hence the caveat and  disclaimer, to avoid any conflicts with Reality due to negligence on my part…..so, please use these Pearls with appropriate caution, and they will bring you joy for years to come…..

“Did an Italian CRANE OPERATOR just experience uninhibited sensations in a MALIBU HOT TUB?” — Zippy the Pinhead
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“This song of the waters is audible to every ear, but there is other music in these hills, by no means audible to all…. On a still night, when the campfire is low and the Pleiades have climbed over rim rocks, sit quietly and listen … and think hard of everything you have seen and tried to understand. Then you may hear it – a vast pulsing harmony – its score inscribed on a thousand hills, its notes the lives and deaths of plants and animals, its rhythms spanning the seconds and the centuries.” — Aldo Leopold

Have you ever listened to hear the music of the spheres?  Mssr. Leopold has heard them; no one who has not been held in thrall by the sheer beauty of this universal symphony could possibly give such a clear, and complete description, without possessing firsthand knowledge of its power, without first having experienced its beauty. It is a beauty that reaches straight into men’s souls, plucking directly on our heart-strings to bring us into the music, as an integral part of the entirety of creation that it celebrates.

The music of the night plays all day, as well, but is drowned out in the clamor of the sun, and the people who are too busy living, and cannot hear its song. It is best heard in the night, when the stars play in the background, as in an orchestra, wherein a soft string section supports the sweet melody of the horns, and the percussion holds steady the bright improvisations of the woodwinds.

I like to think, when I am listening to the music that plays forever, and is forever playing, that we can only hear the music because we are part of it, just as all the animals, and plants, and rocks, and oceans are part of the music, all filling in the musical note that best fits with all the rest, completing the glorious harmony that will be sung as long as the stars shine in the night sky……

“We live only to discover beauty. All else is a form of waiting.” — Kahlil Gibran
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“Those who speak know nothing;
Those who know are silent”
These words, I am told,
Were spoken by Lao-tzu.
— P Chu-i (772-846)

How is it then, the poem ends; that one who knew, wrote so much?

I know, I know! Teacher, teacher, call on me!….. He didn’t want to write at all, but they made him do it…..  Actually, I don’t know, precisely, or even verifiably under current conditions, whether or not that which I know is the true answer. What I do know is that what I’ve heard about this has that mythical quality that many Chinese legends have, as have those of many countries throughout the world’s history, of having grown from a single seed of truth….

When Lao Tzu decided he would leave his home in the town where he lived, his fame as a Taoist scholar and sage was already great throughout the Middle Kingdom; he was known to the Emperor, greatly admired by all of the important figures and scholars of his time, and revered as a treasured member of society.

As the story was related to me, Master Lao decided he wished to retire to the mountains, to be free of the demands laid upon him by his fame, which distracted him from his inner journey, and set about him the confining walls of the expectations of others. So he packed up his meager possessions, mounted his donkey, and set out for the gate to the city. At the gate, the guard asked him to where he was traveling, whereupon Lao Tzu told the guard of his wish to go into the mountains, in search of the Truth of the Way.

The guard was an educated man, who had himself studied the Tao, and did not wish for Lao Tzu to take away his knowledge and teachings, so he set a condition on the aged master, that he would only be allowed to leave if he first wrote down all he knew of the Tao’s nature, to leave in place of his revered self.

Thus constrained, Lao Tzu returned home, where he transcribed the eighty-eight verses that comprise what is known today as the Tao Teh Ching, the book which has served as the primer on Taoist philosophy for all the centuries since the Master walked the earth. When the work was finished, he took the manuscript to the unnamed guard, passed through the gate of the city, and was seen no more in the Middle Kingdom.

As I said, I don’t know if this is a true story, or an idealized version of what actually took place over two thousand years ago. But it sure sounds true, and is congruent with all the principles of Taoism that I can claim to understand. If it is so, the entire human race owes a very large debt of gratitude to that clever unknown soldier, who saved the master’s words for the world…… and as for having written so much, the only response I have to P Chu-i’s question is, “Who cares? Where would we be if he had not done so?”…..
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I beseech you therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God, that you present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable to God, which is your reasonable service.  — Romans 12:1

“Reasonable service”  Hmm….. it seems to me that whoever wrote this should probably turn in his divine channeling papers, because all of his sense of proportion and believability just went flying out the window when this got put onto parchment back in the day. I mean, give me a break!  “your bodies a living sacrifice” is “reasonable service”.  Well, if you have the kind of mind that will accept that at face value, then I am compelled by compassion, fueled only by a deep desire to help my fellow man, to inform you of a special deal, a deal you won’t be able to pass up….

That’s right, folks (note the spelling, please), today only, you too can be the envy of your neighbors, the hero of the housing tract, the cock o’the walk, as it were. Today, and today only (we already have our ticket for the bus to Bakersfield leaving at midnight…..)  you can join those millions of people have taken advantage of this EXCLUSIVE OFFER! For the next few minutes our operators will be taking orders for this deal of a lifetime, C.O.D only; no checks, no credit, no problem. What, you may ask, could be so wonderful, so glamorous, so blatantly gluttonous that EVERYONE wants one?

Well, I’ll tell you….. how would you feel to know that, thanks to your own good sense, and the wonders of human ingenuity, you were the first in your area to be the proud owner of…. wait for it….  your own, exclusive jar, filled to the brim, with GOD’s OWN ETERNAL LOVE! That’s right, you heard me correctly. For the insanely low price we are asking, you’ll have to agree that we are practically giving away this priceless commodity; you won’t find this deal matched anywhere.

What is this essentially negligible price, you ask? Just how crazy are these guys? We’re pretty cagey, er, crazy, that’s for sure. Today only, we are asking for a mere lifetime, and a mere 75% eternal, commitment of your entire soul, and the mineral and artistic rights to your firstborn child, whether a son or daughter. That’s right! An entire mason jar, filled to the brim with the priceless boon of God’s own eternal love, for the almost unnoticeable price we are seeking, would normally run you not only what we have asked, but also want you to throw in your wife,  guarantee the rest of your children’s yearly incomes for life, and toss in a few succeeding generations as well. But today, and today only, you too can join those exclusive few who are privileged to have their very own centerpiece for the family altar, for the bargain price of one soul, and consumer rights on a child.

How can you lose? And how can you afford to pass up this opportunity to advance your standing in the eyes of your peers, as well as the eyes of God?  You can’t, so pony up, sucker!….. Hahahahahahahahahaahahahahahahahaha……..
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“By calling attention to ‘a well regulated militia’, the ‘security’ of the nation, and the right of each citizen ‘to keep and bear arms’, our founding fathers recognized the essentially civilian nature of our economy. Although it is extremely unlikely that the fears of governmental tyranny which gave rise to the Second Amendment will ever be a major danger to our nation, the Amendment still remains an important declaration of our basic civilian-military relationships, in which every citizen must be ready to participate in the defense of his country.  For that reason, I believe the Second Amendment will always be important.” — April, 1960 (Then) Senator John Fitzgerald Kennedy (1917-1963)

Jack Kennedy was a pretty smart guy; after all, he did graduate from Harvard Law. Admittedly, he was not exactly the most ethical bulb in the box, but he had his head screwed on his shoulders fairly solidly, and had the unusual political stance of actually wanting the American people to have a decent chance at what they deserve, and are promised by our form of government, i.e., a shot at “the pursuit of happiness”….. However, in this statement, he makes an unwarranted and dangerous assumption, to wit: “it is extremely unlikely that the fears of governmental tyranny which gave rise to the Second Amendment will ever be a major danger to our nation.”  Jack was an optimist…. and as is often the case, the pessimists were closer to right on this one…..

Our rights are in imminent and clear danger of being abrogated, permanently. This is an indisputable fact. I have pictures, as well as copious documentation, of their own documents of erasure. This kind of fact is also provided with further partial proof of its truth by the reaction of those responsible for this subtle attack on our legacy of freedom, who, when confronted with knowledge of their intent, immediately accuse the confronting entity of “spreading communist (oops, I guess today they would now use the ubiquitous “terrorist”) propaganda”, or “attacking the principles of freedom” or my favorite complete lie, “you’re threatening our national security.”

It would be somewhat amusing, if it weren’t so dangerously disgusting…. I mean, do they really expect the American people to sit around and do NOTHING?  I kind of hope they do believe that…. it will be then a bigger surprise to them, when the American people stand up, point their guns at the heads of these idiots, walk back into the voting booths, and take their rights back, from the Democrats AND the Republicans, who are all arguably insane….. call me treasonous if you will; I call it patriotism, of the first water…..

“Caesar had his Brutus; Charles the First, his Cromwell; and George the Third [“Treason!” cried the Speaker]–may profit by their example. If this be treason, make the most of it.” — Patrick Henry (1736-1799) — Speech in the Virginia Convention, 1765

(In today’s scenario, substitute, George the Shrub and Shrub II for George III)

“You can lead a yak to water but you can’t teach an old dog to make a silk purse out of a pig in a poke.” — Opus
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Looking back over today’s offering was interesting; I guess if it hadn’t been, I’d be tossing it all and starting over. Fortunately, that won’t be necessary; this will fly just fine….. I hope you enjoy this sharing of the wealth I go through every morning as much as I enjoy spitting it out. (Sorry…. I suppose I could have chosen less visually descriptive verbiage, but, hey, it still is early here in California, and I’m too lazy to go back and change it…. deal…..)

The weather wizards are calling for more rain, so I guess there will be sufficient time to get to the daily batch of WP notices and comments, now reaching over 100 emails a day, and still growing…. SIGH, I love all this; as a polymath, it is a great way to stay busy without ever getting bored. But, it sure is taking up a lot of the day…. I need to figure out a more efficient method of dealing with it all, before it becomes a chore….. ah well, the day is young….. meantime, y’all take care out there, and Blessed Be……

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

gigoid

Kowabunga!

Authentic wax slippers show fading glory…..

Posted on by
25

Ffolkes,
Far removed from sanity, I sit, alone and fierce, holding my thoughts close, as if they will keep me warm. Over in the corner, the giggling demons from my personal hell are gathered, eagerly awaiting a sign, a sign that my last hold on reality has been sundered by the sharp edges of my failure, and they can finally fulfill their purpose, to drag me, willing or no, to my fated meeting with the Prince of Lies…..

I can feel their impatience to be on their way, with me in tow; it breaks over me like waves of disapproval from a room full of aunts and uncles from back east, cross-generational dinosaurs, smelling of sweat and ignorance. Little do they know that they are once again doomed to failure this day; I will not be making the meeting with Satan, nor any of his underlings. Not today…. today is the day that all my planning, all of my patience, will see its reward. By morning, the world order will have changed, and as long as I don’t pull the switch prematurely, life will improve immeasurably for the poor and downtrodden. And for the rich and indulgent, well, perhaps what they experience may not be improvement, but it will be justice. Death plays no favorites, after all…..

“The time has come,” he said, “to speak of many things… of ceiling wax, and…..”  and bushy packs, and harps of golden strings…. well, no, that’s not what he said, but it filled in a little more space, didn’t it?  Rhymed, too…  🙂    Sorry, you’ll have to bear with me…. woke up early, thanks to more muscle cramps (always a delightful way to wake up from sleep, eh? “Here, have some excruciating pain for a few minutes…. better now? Okay, go on back to sleep; never mind the lingering ache in your calf, or the pounding heart, or the fact you are now wide awake. Just go on back to sleep….”), and that process always makes my output a bit strange, even for my loose standards of that particular quality. Don’t fret, it will pass shortly…… while we’re waiting, care to go Pearling?…..

“Men govern nothing with more difficulty than their tongues, and can moderate their desires more than their words.” — Spinoza
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“Ninety percent of science fiction is crap. But then, ninety percent of anything is crap.” — Theodore Sturgeon

For those unfamiliar with Theodore Sturgeon, he is a science fiction writer, of impeccable reputation, especially among his peers, a successful and prolific author of many books and short stories of wondrous scope, unlimited imagination, and glowing intelligence. He writes stories of great beauty, with a clean, spare, yet elegant style, and demonstrates a deep understanding of, and love for, the human experience; none of his work comes close to being considered as “crap”, for sure. And the truth of his assertion almost requires no evidence, for ample examples of its relevance exist naturally, in plain view. I don’t have much more I can really add to the concept; it is pretty self-explanatory, and can obviously serve anyone as a good rule of thumb to keep in pocket, for application on a regular basis throughout the average day….. it helps one avoid all sorts of crap that could otherwise get tracked all over your otherwise well-groomed path through life…..
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“And it came to pass that in the hands of the ignorant, the words of the bible were used to beat plowshares into swords…” — Alan Watts

“…You don’t have many suspects who are innocent of a crime. That’s contradictory.  If a person is innocent of a crime, then he is not suspected.” — Edwin Meese

Viewed in light of the first quote, if one may assume its veracity, even temporarily, for the sake of argument, the second quote, while disappointing in the extreme, is not as surprising as it might otherwise have been seen. Oh, where to begin a response to such an outrageous display of ignorance and bigotry? I count only 26 words here, and can think of at least 14 ways this is just wrong, just off the top of my head (okay, hyperbole aside, it’s all wrong…). It piles one false assumption on top of another until any glimmer of possible relation to the truth, or reality, is completely obscured. Unfortunate as it is, this mind-set is still all-too-common, especially amongst the political pundit review currently on parade.

As a matter of fact, this mind-boggling distortion of our actual laws on the subject reminds me very strongly of three of our esteemed Republican candidates being followed avidly by the news-mongers, especially Mitt the Twitt…. in the last week alone (post Etch-A-Sketch-gate), he has made, (and I, along with a fairly large number of bloggers & citizens keeping track, counted them), at minimum, 19 apparently deliberate lies that involved vague accusations of impropriety by the current administration, or the evil intent of events already proven beneficial to the general public.  Each and every one of these statements, when checked against reality, statistics publicly available, or what was reported in other media sources, was obviously made up on the spot, or completely in reverse of what actually occurred. This man is so desperate to appear confident and forceful, he is completely oblivious to the fact that no one is buying into his nonsense any more; in response his lies get more and more removed from any connection to reality or truth.  His two closest challengers are no better; they make a habit of making statements that have absolutely no bearing on the subject under discussion, or accuse the media of playing favorites to distract the audience from whatever question they are attempting to avoid answering by doing so.

All of these men have lost touch with reality in a lot of areas, and their denial of this fact serves as further evidence of that loss. Their belief, that they have their finger on the pulse of the American people, is so far removed from the truth, it approaches the realm of delusion. They have completely lost track of, or denied, any connection they may have once had to the rest of their countrymen, insisting that their out-dated, ignorant policies, that didn’t work 45 years ago, or 90 years ago, will nonetheless work in today’s rapidly-changing arena of global politics, while completely ignoring the mountain of evidence to the contrary. They have assumed the mantle of the fanatic, the zealot, a segment of the population that has previously been clearly identified as those folks who, when they have lost sight of their goal, redouble their efforts. Sad, and a terrible waste of everyone else’s time and energy to have to even listen to such nonsense. They have given up their place in the human tribe, and don’t even know it…… Pathetic, if you ask me…..

Mi taku oyasin.  (We are all related.) — Lakota belief
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There are times when the pearls I find that stimulate me to want to write about them are found in clusters. Several at once, all closely related, or similarly themed, just throw themselves at me, clamoring for inclusion. On these occasions I’ve learned to let them have their way. It is just as effective a lesson as my comments usually can claim to be, and has the added bonus of requiring less actual work on my part; the authors I choose have all done my thinking, and expressing for me, and usually much better than my discussions. Below are some observations on politics, patriotism, and the price of liberty, from some pretty well-respected political observers……

“In a state-run society the government promises you security. But it’s a false promise predicated on the idea that the opposite of security is risk. Nothing could be further from the truth. The opposite of security is insecurity, and the only way to overcome insecurity is to take risks. The gentle government that promises to hold your hand as you cross the street refuses to let go on the other side.” — Theodore Forstmann

“My kind of loyalty was loyalty to one’s country, not to its institutions or its officeholders.  The country is the real thing, the substantial thing, the eternal thing; it is the thing to watch over, and care for, and be loyal to; institutions are extraneous, they are its mere clothing, and clothing can wear out, become ragged, cease to be comfortable, cease to protect the body from winter, disease, and death.” — Mark Twain (1835-1910)

“I would rather be exposed to the inconveniences attending too much liberty than to those attending too small a degree of it.” — Thomas Jefferson to A. Stuart, 1791

“I believe that all government is evil, and that trying to improve it is largely a waste of time.” — H. L. Mencken

“I don’t pick on politicians. They ain’t done nothin’.”– Red Skelton

“Don’t knock the weather; nine-tenths of the people couldn’t start a conversation if it didn’t change once in a while.” — Kin Hubbard
(Don’t ask…. it just fit, that’s all…)

and finally….

Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more,
Men were deceivers ever,–
One foot in sea and one on shore,
To one thing constant never.
— William Shakespeare (1564-1616), Much Ado about Nothing — Act ii, Sc. 3 (Will Shakespeare channeling George Carlin…)
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“Few things are more dangerous than a hobbit with low blood sugar.’ — unknown Tolkein fan….

Hmm… an interesting claim. I would be tempted to add some of the most dangerous creatures I’ve encountered over the course of my life…. and being a hedonist at heart, I seldom fail to give in to temptation, so….

I would say this list could be easily be expanded to include most of the two year old human children I’ve known, those with either low blood sugar, or its reverse. Both conditions create behavioral anomalies in small children that can have disastrous effects on everything, and everyone, within hearing distance…… Another category to include might be the well-trained and viciously enthusiastic female consumers found in malls world-wide these days, especially when one finds one’s self unexpectedly caught in the DMZ between one or more of them and a well-advertised sale at Macy’s… very risky….. (BTW, this is not a condemnation of women, nor am I implying the phenomenon is exclusive to the distaff side of society. Ever get stuck on the way to the restroom at the ballpark when they announce the last chance to buy a beer? I’ve sustained moderate injuries twice in just that scenario… scary…)

I would also add certain categories of cats to this list…. Cats who have been offended, or, especially egregious in a cat’s eyes, laughed at by a human, have been known to engage in long-term, vindictive acts of revenge that would chill the heart of the most hardened terrorist. If you’ve ever pissed one off, you would know I am speaking nothing but sterling truth; few things in this universe send us so clear a message as a cat who just pooped in your slippers, moments before the time it KNEW you would wake up and slip your feet into them without looking.  Euuewww!  I’ve also known them to politely go jump on an electric stove and pee on the burners, unseen and unnoticed, just long enough before you start to cook dinner to let it dry, thus increasing the stench, and making sure you regret not letting the ‘puir beastie’ outside when it wanted to go….

And that mangled rat carcass it left in the bathroom doorway, you know, the one you thought was a present from your adorable little friend? Little did you know, that it KNEW your tendency toward severe nausea when confronted unexpectedly with blood, and left it there on purpose; most likely it was hidden nearby, digital camera at paw, to watch and chuckle over your reaction when you discovered the damn thing on the way to worship at the throne of Ralph.  Any cat person can tell you, laughing at cats is a poor choice, fraught with nasty surprises and moments of sheer terror, all with an amused cat in the background, taking photos to post online…..

“The universe is full of surprises — most of them nasty.” — Solomon Short
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“Fishing gives you a sense of where you fit in the scene of things. Your place in the universe. I mean, here I am, one small guy with a fishing pole on this vast beach and out there in the blue expanse of ocean are these hundreds of millions of fish… laughing at me.”– More from the fertile mind of Anonymous…. (I think my research team of quote compilers has run into a lazy patch….I’ve seen a lot of work by Anonymous of late, enough to rouse some suspicion as to their level of job satisfaction….)

Though Anonymous, I like this; it’s deeper than it seems. In its quietly amusing way, it lays out a good example of how a Master approaches Life, to wit: “Everything is relative, so learn to appreciate the connections, without sweating the small stuff.”

Now, you may wonder, as I have, how I can pull all that deep wisdom out of the little story above. All I can tell you is, your guess is as good as mine, because I haven’t the faintest clue. I try not to filter, or prematurely edit my responses to things I read, as I’ve found there is often more to it than the first cursory glance will reveal. But, somehow, there is some part of me that sees that deeper meaning, and makes me stop and begin examining the statement more closely. This part of me has, so far, achieved an amazingly high percentage of being right.

All I can I say is, it’s a gift…. and I don’t refuse gifts from the universe; as a rule I find them to be exceedingly valuable, and it would dishonor the giver to reject the boon.  Besides, it saves me a LOT of time, which I can then put into my ever-so-entertaining strange visions of truth and beauty…… Well, it works for me…..
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I must be done…. there’s no mistaking that state of confused bemusement that settles over me when my subconscious has given final approval to the original draft. It’s not an uncomfortable feeling, yet it has its overtones of both relief and melancholy, which adds a touch of poignancy, and blocks any leanings toward regret (which is relatively unnatural for me anyway; I gave it up many years ago…. lousy company…).

I’m hoping what I’ve written brings some small entertainment into your sphere this morning (morning here anyway….), and maybe even gives you a chuckle, or an encouraging lesson you can use today.  Y’all take care out there, and in the wonderful words of the Anasazi, “May you walk in Beauty, always….”

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

gigoid

Kowabunga!

Truncated modules sustain less karmic damage….

Posted on by
18

Ffolkes,
Unseen, unheard, melodies of haunting beauty didn’t play, yet echoed hollowly down the empty hall, uneasy and cruel, just as if invited to sup with the family. Smitten with the pungent sight of naked ambition, all those with a wilted rose, sly ambition banked to a glow, smiled with careful cheer, swamping the object of their devotion with a sea of broken lies. No one speaks, no one cares, no one asks, yet, the music continues, playing silently, unseen, while the night slips further along toward the day……

Spending the mornings in my head can be a strange experience, especially when I wake up with stuff such as the above passage floating in front of my inner eye, insisting on being transcribed onto the page before I’ve even had a sip of life-giving coffee. I wouldn’t mind as much if they would at least wait until AFTER I’ve gotten dressed, at least a robe and slippers, before they set up such a clamorous bid for attention. But, noooooo, they have to start NOW, often shouting at me before I’m fully standing….. just like a damn two year-old, no impulse control. Makes me want to paddle their diaper….

See, I told you it could get strange….. let’s avoid any further nonsense, and Pearl, shall we?…..
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Amor, ch’al cor gentil ratto s’apprende,
prese costui de la bella persona
che mi fu tolta; e ‘l modo ancor m’offende.
Amor, ch’a nullo amato amar perdona,
mi prese del costui piacer si` forte,
che, come vedi, ancor non m’abbandona.
Amor condusse noi ad una morte.

Love, which is quickly kindled in a gentle heart,
seized this one for the fair form
that was taken from me-and the way of it affects me still.
Love, which absolves no loved one from loving,
seized me so strongly with delight in him,
that, as you see, it does not leave me even now.
Love brought us to one death.
— Dante, La Divina Commedia: Inferno V, vv. 100-106

I have never made it all the way through Dante’s masterpiece(s); time and circumstance have conspired to keep that from happening over the years. But every now and again, I come across parts of it, and have to say, I am more than just a little impressed. I don’t speak or read Italian, though having Spanish, a little French, and a little Latin, from whence all three languages sprang, it isn’t totally incomprehensible. I can usually figure out the subject under discussion, at least, of what I read in that language, although any deeper meaning or details are mostly indecipherable.

But one doesn’t need to understand every word to enjoy passages such as this. Read aloud, the poetry assumes a new power, aided by scansion and meter, faultless in its structure and rhyme. Read silently, meaning almost jumps into the mind, but is made moot by the beauty of the verse’s sounds as they strike the welcoming ears of the imagination.

Then, of course, one turns to the translation…. and the amazement deepens. Though not as structurally sound, the sheer strength of the meaning that is now clear turns what could have been mundane into the spectacular. I don’t know who made the translations I’ve seen, but they are indeed masterful translator(s), and excellent poet(s) in their own right. The scope and power of the full concepts that Dante put into this, his life’s crowning achievement, comes through clearly in the translated work, and easily lives up to the high standard set by the original piece in Italian….. Good stuff, as the boys downtown would say…..
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“He who knows that enough is enough will always have enough.” — Lao Tsu

On certain occasions, as I am lying on my bed, on my back, I can fall into that twilight-zone-like state of drowsiness that steals over the entire body/mind at such moments, just before falling into sleep. Not every time, but significantly often enough, at that precise moment, my entire nervous system experiences a powerful surge of energy, emanating from the base of my neck and spreading instanter to every square nanometer of the network that suffuses and permeates everywhere in the body.

Every muscle in my body gives a huge jerk, whether contracting or expanding is unclear, as it happens so quickly that it is impossible to tell anything other than having just bounced two inches into the air with the force of the muscular spasms.  It begins, full power, then ceases instantly, with a strong impression of a silent bang! The experience has never repeated in the same day.

If that isn’t odd enough taken alone, there is also the surprising fact that the mind/body never seems surprised that it happened, feels no tension or panic that one might expect at such an unexpected shock to the system, and the state of drowsiness is usually easy to fall back into, with sleep following momentarily.  It’s as if the entire instant spasm served as a purge of the energy that had accumulated, energy that was blocking my path to the other side of consciousness, clearing the entire system of unwanted and unnecessary dross, rather than being some sort of epileptic seizure-like activity that places stress on the system, as might be otherwise surmised. One of these days, I’ll remember to ask my doctor about it when I’m in there for something else (knock on wood…). Not much I can see to do about it until I know more; worry has killed more folks than ever bled to death…

What, you may ask, does this have to do with knowing one’s self well enough to not want more than enough? Nothing. The quote was there already when this train of thought interrupted the movie I was watching last night, and I needed a place to write this down. Don’t fret, I’ll find the appropriate quote, illustrating the last line (the only part that really has anything important to consider…) and add it here at the end. What Lao Tzu said doesn’t really need my help anyway…. it can stand alone just fine…..

“It’s like brother Nietzsche said–being human is a complicated gig, so give that dark night of the soul a hug and howl the eternal yes.” — perfectly attributed to Anonymous in my source.

(Honest… and it was also the very first quote that came in front of me, I swear…. serendipity strikes again!)

(Besides, this sounds just like something Ken Kesey would have attributed to Neal Cassady, or better yet, Jack Kerouac….. betcha….)

(Okay, outside, but solid, chance it’s from an obscure Allen Ginsberg poem, and Kesey stole it…. no way to tell now, eh? Huh, maybe Google knows….)

(Boy, trust Google, folks… it knew, instantly, that the above is part of a short dialogue by Chris, the DJ on the TV show, “Northern Exposure”, whose character was wont to such outbursts of philosophy….. the entire quote is worth seeing, and is included below for your perusal…..)

“There’s a dark side to each and every human soul. We wish we were Obi-Wan Kenobi, and for the most part we are, but there’s a little Darth Vadar in all of us. Thing is, this ain’t no either/or proposition. We’re talking about dialectics, the good and the bad merging into us. You can run but you can’t hide. My experience? Face the darkness, stare it down. Own it. As brother Nietzsche said, being human is a complicated gig. Give that old dark night of the soul a hug. Howl the eternal yes!”
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An elderly Chinese woman had two large pots, each hung on the ends of a pole which she carried across her neck.
One of the pots had a crack in it while the other pot was perfect and always delivered a full portion of water.
At the end of the long walks from the stream to the house, the cracked pot arrived only half full.
For a full two years this went on daily, with the woman bringing home only one and a half pots of water.
Of course, the perfect pot was proud of its accomplishments.
But the poor cracked pot was ashamed of its own imperfection, and miserable that it could only do half of what it had been made to do..
After two years of what it perceived to be bitter failure, it spoke to the woman one day by the stream.
‘I am ashamed of myself, because this crack in my side causes water to leak out all the way back to your house.’
The old woman smiled, ‘Did you notice that there are flowers on your side of the path, but not on the other pot’s side?’
‘That’s because I have always known about your flaw, so I planted flower seeds on your side of the path, and every day while we walk back, you water them.’
For two years I have been able to pick these beautiful flowers to decorate the table.
Without you being just the way you are, there would not be this beauty to grace the house.’
Each of us has our own unique flaw. But it’s the cracks and flaws we each have that make our lives together so very interesting and rewarding..
You’ve just got to take each person for what they are and look for the good in them.
SO, to all of my cracked pot friends, have a great day and remember to smell the flowers on your side of the path!

Gotta love this! A story of perfect love, and perfect understanding of how the universe fits together with no visible seams….. don’t over-think this one, just enjoy it…… and spread it around, like the cracked pot you are……
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“There’s nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and open a vein.” — W. W. “Red” Smith

I’m beginning to understand this outlook toward writing more as each day passes, and the struggle to keep my Muse awake and interested in what I’m doing begins to tax my ingenuity to the limit of its ever-growing, yet still modest capacity. In fact, it is that struggle that keeps that capacity growing, always pushing me to exceed what has been written before, never settling for good enough, always wanting better.

There are times, all-too-often, when I sit and stare at the screen for what seems to be forever and two days, searching desperately through my head for something about which I can rant, or describe, or remember, or make up, that will satisfy the unending pressure I put on myself to create a worthy, stimulating piece of literature, one that will stand up to the test of time. And should I succeed in that quest, the net effect on my soul is the same as if I had copiously bled until I was nearly dead……. might just be easier to open up the vein, and have done with it…..
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Spirit is the first differentiation of SPACE; and Matter the first differentiation of Spirit. That, which is neither Spirit nor matter -that is IT- the Causeless CAUSE of Spirit and Matter, which are the Cause of Cosmos. And THAT we call the ONE LIFE or the Intra-Cosmic Breath.
— Book of Dzyan (B.C. 3000?)

So, I’m sitting here, at a computer that has more RAM, and a larger hard disk memory than were available in the entire world just 50 years ago. There is more information listed in here, somewhere or another, than was commonly available in entire libraries at that time, and if one adds in the possible extensions to that information that are instantly available online, even the Library of Congress begins to look like the library of a simple country farmer in the 1800’s….. With all this information at my fingertips, I come across this quote, reputedly from a document that is more than 5000 years old. 5000 years old. That is a period of time that essentially covers the entire period of written human history; the Book of Dyzan is no doubt one of the earliest books ever produced, at least of those that have survived to today.

Taken at face value, without knowing the source, this statement could easily have been made today (from the sound of it, by a yogi sadhu, a disciple of the Dalai Lama, or a Taoist scholar with a flair for humor and metaphor). (Plus, it must be noted, whoever wrote this most likely did not indicate the need for using ALL CAPS to signify special meaning….. no keyboards, eh? Blame that on the faux intellectual geek who transcribed it….) It is clear that the person who composed this was definitely a scholar in his own time; the structure of the language, and the thoughts behind the expression in that language, whatever tongue it may have been, indicate a depth of education beyond the ordinary, even for today.

When one stops to consider that this visionary definition of perceived Reality was uttered and written down over half a millennium in our past, one must stand in respectful awe of the mind from which it sprang. The world of 5000 years ago was, indubitably, much different than today’s world; if nothing else, the knowledge society has gathered over that time regarding the physical world, and how it works, has altered society in innumerable ways, and gives today’s citizens many distinct advantages in terms of the effort required for survival. Yet this person, man or woman, created a statement of their vision of Reality that definitely stands the test of Time, as well as the test of how well it can be considered to be relevant to Reality, as far as the nature of that concept is understood to be consensual for all who reside there……
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I’m hoping that there is some sort of positive karmic value to the effort I put into this each day; I don’t see any particular reason it should be so, but there is also no apparent reason it should not be, either. To certain philosophical disciplines, this would seem to indicate that this is most likely an activity that is neutral in that respect.

But, that does not take into account the power of Murphy in Reality, or the value for me in making the effort with the intent toward right action, even if it fails in its intended purpose. With those in mind, it makes sense to hedge our bets, and ease out of the game before it gets more expensive than I can afford….. and if you followed that, you’ve been reading my work probably too much….. 🙂   I had a good time this morning….. hopefully you will, too, when you stumble into my lair, unsuspecting of what is to follow….. Y’all take care out there…..

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

gigoid

Kowabunga!

Replication of tarnished images, on commission….

Posted on by
18

Ffolkes,
The start of a new day is always a bit delicate, when one realizes how important the beginning is to the remainder of the day. What takes place in the first few moments can determine how the rest of the day will follow, if in no other way by shaping our initial mood. It seems pretty obvious to me, so that is how I approach it, with care and caution. Of course, if I were to be completely honest, I’d probably admit that none of it really matters at all, and if the gods want to take a dump on my day, there isn’t a damn thing I can do about it, without over-reacting and starting the next War in Heaven….. Some mornings, that doesn’t sound like such a bad idea….. but most days, I’d rather just eat some oatmeal & toast, and pass on the battle with already-annoyed gods….

Not necessary today, though….. all things considered, this one has begun auspiciously, and I can feel some small confidence at taking the next few cautious steps into the day’s activities. Of course, that is contingent on how my Muse is feeling this fine morning, and whether I will have its support, or if it will need to nurse along another hangover (occupational hazard for Muses, I’d guess… in vino, veritas, and all that, you know….). I’m not worried, I haven’t heard any significant whimpering from that corner…. and I’ve promised some actual reading time later, out of a book, not a website, provided we get done at a reasonable time.  It’s quite excited about that, and looking forward to this recently rare indulgence.

On a happy note, my access problem with some WordPress sites is solved; many of you may have noticed my return to your comment sections yesterday, some with delight, some with resignation, and, I’m sure, a few groans…. it was merely a matter of getting the information laid out in front of the correct person, who zeroed in on the difficulty and presented a solution on the spot. The solution worked instantly, and voila, I was back…. such a drawn out process for a fix that took two minutes, merely a single change to my ISP network configuration, toggling a certain function off. Only took two minutes to get to the right page, the fix was a matter of seconds, just click a box, and hit submit. Done deal, and I can’t tell y’all how nice it was to be able to follow a link without any rigmarole….. and, hey, I’d have even gone through it again, just for the opportunity to use the word “rigmarole”……

Shall we Pearl?……
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This is the text from a Sunday edition of Calvin and Hobbes from 1989; it needs no comment or adornment……

“Dad, how come old photographs are always black and white? Didn’t they have color film back then?”
“Sure they did. In fact, those old photographs ARE in color. It’s just the WORLD was black and white then.”
“Really?”
“Yep. The world didn’t turn color until sometime in the 1930’s, and it was pretty grainy color for a while, too.”
“That’s really weird.”
“Well, truth is stranger than fiction.”
“But then why are old PAINTINGS in color?! If the world was black and white, wouldn’t artists have painted it that way?”
“Not necessarily. A lot of great artists were insane.”
“But… but how could they have painted in color anyway? Wouldn’t their paints have been shades of gray back then?”
“Of course, but they turned colors like everything else did in the 30’s.”
“So why didn’t old black and white photos turn color too?”
“Because they were color pictures of black and white, remember?”

— Calvin and Dad, “Calvin and Hobbes”, 29 October 89

SIGH…. it’s a wonderful time of life, those years when your children believed EVERYTHING you told them…..  🙂   Those were actually the REAL Good Old Days…..
___________________________________

A man sought medical aid because he was crippled and could hardly walk. The foot doctor suggested surgery. After the operation, nothing changed. The man then consulted a bone surgeon, who suggested surgery on his legs. After this second operation, nothing changed. The man went to a chiropractor for six months, and no change was effected, although he was told his spine was out of line. Finally the man consulted a psychiatrist at great expense, and the doctor told him he was totally suicidal and would die within months. Despondent, the man went out and spent a great deal of money on a new wardrobe. At the shoe store, he ordered the finest, a size 10. The salesperson said he needed size 11, but the man insisted on a size 10. “Look here,” said the salesperson, “if you wear a size 10 you are going to get crippled and wish you were dead.”

A delightfully long and convoluted walk down a path to a single, very key concept, to wit: “Pay attention! And not to all the bullshit, just what is important!” A statement like this, made at the right time to the right person, in the right frame of mind, can become an epiphany, a moment of zazen, a flash of the eternal, a smile from the Jade Empress… something never to be forgotten, an event lasting an instant that will echo down through all the years of life, affecting everything one does, and everything one becomes…. like the widening ripples in a pond that result from a single pebble entering the deep unknown below the surface of reality….
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Some days, when I go diving for pearls, they seem to jump out of their shells and into the bag…. on these days, what ends up in the bag often tells a story, or makes a point, or just stands silently, pointing the Way, sometimes even all three, without benefit or need of discussion or comment. This is one such group of pearls, needing none of my ego to dress them up in finery….. so pay attention!….

The mark of your ignorance is the depth of your belief in injustice and tragedy.  What the caterpillar calls the end of the world, the master calls a butterfly. — Messiah’s Handbook : Reminders for the Advanced Soul

“I am a fragment of a mirror whose whole design and shape I do not understand.  nevertheless, with what I am, I can reflect light into the black places of this world – into the dark places in the hearts of men – and maybe help change some things in some people.  Perhaps others may see and do likewise. This is what I am . . . this is the meaning of my life.” — Alexander Papaderos

“As far as we can discern, the sole purpose of human existence is to kindle a light of meaning in the darkness of mere being.” — C. G. Jung

There is a bridge between Time and Eternity; and this bridge is the Spirit of man. Neither day nor night cross that bridge, nor old age, nor death nor sorrow. — Upanishads (c. B.C. 800)

Then along comes some wise guy author and mucks things about…… sort of…. Then again, maybe just a different way of getting to the same point….

“At the back of our brains, so to speak, there was a forgotten blaze or burst of astonishment at our own existence. The object of the artistic and spiritual life was to dig for this submerged sunrise or wonder; so that a man sitting in a chair might suddenly understand that he was actually alive, and be happy.” — G.K. Chesterton

These are the times I live for…… days when every single face of Reality is just sparkling with possibility, and promise…. Makes me want to take BIG BITES of joie d’vivre!…..
___________________________________

How does it feel?
To be on your own
With no direction home
Like a complete unknown?

–Bob Dylan, “Like a rolling stone…”

I just realized now that I’ve never known exactly why this appealed to me, but, as I started to write, to cover an entirely different idea using this, it came to me that I knew exactly how it feels. I can answer Bob’s plaintive plea for, well, for help, from anybody….. I was there, you see. Right there…. on my own, no direction home, a complete unknown…. more desperately, for me, “there” was in a part of New York City I didn’t know (which included most of the city), in the middle of the night, and I had exactly four cents and four bummed cigarettes as assets of a fiscally liquid nature. Needless to say, it doesn’t feel as good as my dreams had painted such scenarios, prior to experiencing them; it felt pretty damn shitty, all in all, and made it hard to find the grit and inspiration to get myself out of the situation intact, in both mind and body…..

In more than one respect, I know now I was damn lucky, that I didn’t find myself in a more dangerous area than I had…. mostly, where I found myself, it was pretty deserted much of the time, and I was hip enough to know not to dress as if I had anything to steal; I mostly went unnoticed, which was fine by me. The harder part was learning to depend on myself, alone, without feeling bad about that solitude. We’re all social creatures, and it feels lonely after a while to spend so much of one’s time without conversation with another live human. But it gets easier, the more one learns to enjoy their own company, while still appreciating what other folks have to give us, if we are open to receiving it….. that lesson takes a bit of practice, needless to say.

It helps to NOT read the news for long periods of time…. cuts down on the urge to strangle pundits, or send bigots to a private conference with their God, face to face….. see, just thinking about the news, even imaginary news, disturbs my serenity…. after all this work to get it here…. damn, fell for it again!…..
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FUCK
You’ve just been waiting for this definition, haven’t you? Here is how to use the word ‘fuck’ in almost any conversation.

NORMAL EXPRESSION                     FUCKING EXPRESSION
———————                               ——————
I am surprised                                        Well, fuck me
Please go away quickly                           Fuck off
My condition is one of fatigue                   I’m fucked
You have made an error of judgment        You fucked up
Stop engaging in frivolous activities           Stop fucking about
He is a person of below average intellect  What a dumb fucker
That option is not a suitable choice           Fuck that
I have not made significant progress         I’ve done fuck all
(… and, finally, my own contributions to this lexicon)
Situation normal                                      It’s all fucked up (the origin, of course, of SNAFU….)
You are not a nice person                        Fucking asshole WOS (waste of sperm)

— Daniel Bowen’s TOXIC (expanded) CUSTARPEDIA

Sharing one’s knowledge is showing one cares…..
___________________________________

Serendipity is generally not susceptible to either summoning at will, or even coming upon persuasion; it comes and goes according to rules it never shares, completely reflecting that part of Reality that changes without warning, and with no pity, only indifference. But, diving for pearls today, and yesterday, when I found almost all of the above, was both delightfully easy of execution, and prolific in results. Thus, I find myself essentially finished with this before I really noticed I had begun…. fascinating alterations of local time and reality, to be sure.

It’s funny, isn’t it, how our mind is able to concentrate so fully, on anything at all, and completely lose all awareness of Time and Space, forces we are normally in tune with closely? This is especially true for using computers, and even has a word to describe the phenomenon, i.e. “flow”. You know you entered the flow state when you sit down at the computer at 10 PM to check mail one last time before bed, and then come back to reality only as you stare incredulously at the rising sun coming through the window into your eyes, the next morning. All too common around here, for sure….

Any who, I guess I’ll have to give in and finish putting together the non-Pearl post I’ve been putting off for a week now…. or not. I can be pretty lazy if I put all my effort into it, and this feels like a lazy day, good work results aside….. I’ll do my usual, and do nothing until some external force pushes me to act….

Remember, ffolkes, be strange… it’s cool out there. No room for the straights and pimps of life…. Y’all take care out there, and Blessed Be……

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

gigoid

Kowabunga!

Odd raptors, but honest…..

Posted on by
14

Ffolkes,
At this hour of the morning, I don’t need this kind of aggravation, not from my own physique. But, rather than fall into complaints about stuff there isn’t much I can do to fix, at least for the moment, we’ll turn in a different direction, and feel the wind of inspiration brushing seductively against our cheeks, whispering softly and sweetly, bringing us happily to…… a roll of duct tape?

Yup… that’s my inspirational vision for the morning. I leave myself open to possibility…. I close my eyes, and allow no negative thoughts to disturb me while absorbing, and tremble with anticipation for the glories to come…. and what I get is duct tape….. a big, partially used roll of silver duct tape…. Yes, duct tape…You know, “If it can’t be fixed with Vise-Grips & duct tape, it can’t be fixed.”… yeah, that stuff. I’m guessing here, but I think I’m supposed to use the tape as a metaphor, for something in life that my subconscious has been chewing on, and wants to express in a seriously light-hearted yet elegant treatment. It’s the only thing I can figure out, and since I’m not getting any stiff arguments from that sector of the organization, I must be on the right track with it…..

Well, that’s just too bad…. I’m not writing about duct tape, or turning it into anything, other than a way to keep the new glass in the old window frame (I told you, it was a tough night, what with the zombie attack at 2 AM, and the toilet explosion before that, and… well, forget it, another time…..). I’m not at all concerned about how my subconscious has spent all this time reflecting on such a ridiculous concept, nor do I intend to give in to it; I do have certain standards to maintain, (well, one, anyway…. I have vowed to publish no crap before it stinks just right…..), and duct tape just doesn’t hit the right notes to sing in that choir…. but, fortunately, it is moot, because we can always Pearl….. Shall we?…..
___________________________________

WARNING: The following entry is not suitable for those with delicate sensibilities…. If you do not appreciate the humor in such historical genre classics as seen in editions of Punch, The National Lampoon, or Mad Magazine, or if you don’t grok the underlying metaphoric qualities of Curly Joe, and the Three Stooges, you may wish to skip down to the following section….

“Beans, beans the magical fruit, the more you eat, the more you…..”  Well, you know the rest, I’m sure…..

This month, as a new chapter in the ongoing saga of a relative newbie to the world of poverty-level grocery buying, the pantry here at the old homestead has gotten a little sparse on variety. Most of what is left are the items that I keep for this very reason, i.e., it’s cheap and filling stuff, suitable for the stretch run to payday. Unfortunately, it also consists of items I rarely eat, for diverse reasons, mostly to do with preferences, but sometimes due to how they affect me physically. One such item, which all of us in this country have had exposure to, at one time or another, is a can of Boston Baked Beans; an off-brand that was on sale somewhere a while back, that has been moving around from corner to corner in there for months on end. Yesterday, on a whim, I decided to use them, having an urge for something I hadn’t had for a long time; they sounded as if they would fit the bill just right.

What I had forgotten was its status as one of the items I put off using because of its physical effect on me…. I ate about a third of the can for lunch, mixed with some risotto, added some chopped, seasoned hot dogs, & hotted up the whole mess in the microwave. Different, filling as all get out, and quite tasty for such an odd combination.  Then, I forgot about it, getting busy with answering emails and reading yesterday’s posts from fellow bloggers, followed by a visit from my friend of longest standing, whom I have known since age 10. About 3 hours after lunch, after he had left to meet his S.O., the concert began…..

The key element I’d overlooked in my hunger for something old, something new on which to chow down, was that these were baked BEANS…. and ever since I turned about 40 (quite some time ago now….), this particular type of beans invariably brings on a veritable storm of intestinal flatulence, and once started, continues to create increasing amounts of pressurized air bubbles, maximizing the output until reaching for a crescendo. This all happens over the course of about an hour and a half, with the uncomfortable, but fascinating, physical process producing some of the most melodious, certainly the loudest, and most versatile and compelling sounds ever produced by the human body…..from any orifice….

I count it as lucky that my friend had already left when the concert began; having known each other for over 50 years, I might never have been able to completely live it down before one of us kicks in the bucket, and would no doubt have spent hours trying to erase it from my Facebook timeline… of course, that realization wouldn’t have hit me until we had recovered from the impossible-to-stop insane laughter that the volume of the first note alone would have produced. Having been, sad to say, a captive audience for the complete performance, I can attest that the melody, and the tempo, would doubtless have produced an equally strong reaction of uncontrollable mirth and hilarity, which, at our age, could have been downright dangerous…. but it was kinda catchy, and had a beat you could dance to…. I gave it a 3 out of 5….

Ah yes, aging is indeed not for the weak of heart….. or the forgetful…. anybody want some leftover beans?…. gratis, they are… eating them again, I will not be…. even for Yoda, not….
___________________________________

“If a million people believe a foolish thing, it is still a foolish thing.” — Anatole France

As time goes by this election year, the evidence in support of this little observation is piling higher and higher, with each time another microphone catches the latest gaffe issuing from a random candidate’s speaking orifice. Surely, t’is a sign of impending doom to realize that for each of the bozos who are parading around, showing us theirs (did I ask to see that? No…. but, there it is….), somewhere out there in our midst, hiding in plain sight, are literally millions of people who are buying into their nonsense and vitriol. The bigotry, and hatred, and racism, and elitism that seem to be the qualifying characteristics of prospective candidates this elective cycle are not only being bought by masses of people, (to whom it is like manna from heaven to hear their brightest fantasies, of living in an all-white, all-Christian world, given voice, and, sadly, screen time), but are being given not only credence, but glorification. To be honest, it makes me want to puke….. and, make sure my ammo is dry…..

“When the going gets tough, the smart get an AR-15. And a shotgun. And…” — James P. Callison

And bear unmov’d the wrongs of base mankind,
The last and hardest conquest of the mind.
— Alexander Pope (1688-1744) — The Odyssey of Homer, Book xiii, Line 353
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“Experience keeps a dear school, but fools will learn in no other, and scarcely in that; for it is true, we may give advice, but we cannot give conduct. Remember this: They that will not be counseled cannot be helped. If you do not hear reason she will rap you over the knuckles.” — Benjamin Franklin (1706-1790) — Maxims prefixed to Poor Richard’s Almanac, 1757

This is good…. and especially so for Ben; he had a tendency to be somewhat mundane and boring with most of his ‘Maxims’. Even here, his metaphor for reason could use a little punching up, as an editor might say. I usually prefer to state that particular idea as, “if you don’t give reality it’s proper attention, it will gleefully slap you upside the head until you do.”  It’s exactly the same lesson, but gives a clearer, and more accurate, picture of the consequences of not staying alert to reality’s protocols.

But, I also like this because it has another lesson, about those who deliberately choose to ignore this warning, and how we must allow them to experience the folly of their own choices, along with the resultant pain and indignity that comes with those choices, provided so generously by the dimension of reality we inhabit. The only thing in the entire universe that is subject to our control is ourselves; we cannot prevent their pain, nor should we, as we then deny them the opportunity to experience the lesson of how to succeed that comes with every instance of defeat. Tough to watch, sometimes, if we care for the person, but no less important for them for us to stay back, and let reality have it’s way…. it will anyway, no matter what we do, or think about it…..

And here, poor fool, with all my lore
I stand no wiser than before.
— Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (1749-1832)
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Is it legal to advocate the long overdue overthrow of a corrupt government?”– Aloysius I.A. Anonymous

In light of the state of the union, official reports aside, this asks a pertinent, and possibly worthy question for consideration when offered in the sense of what I call juris prominence, or, in short, as being in support of the absolute arbitration right of the jury.  It is a well-documented point of Constitutional law that gives any jury in a case under trial the absolute right to declare innocence, even in the face of the letter of the law, if they believe the law is wrongly applied, or not germane to justice in the case under deliberation, OR even if they think the law is just wrong, morally or by custom…… that is, provided jury trials are still allowed in days to come, or rather, days that are already here…..

“If the jury feels the law is unjust, we recognize the undisputed power of the jury to acquit, even if its verdict is contrary to the law as given by a judge, and contrary to the evidence … and the courts must abide by that decision.” — US v Moylan, 4th Circuit Court of Appeals, 1969, 417 F.2d at 1006

This archaic, but powerful, right of the American people may be the final protection we have in cases I can see in the future, now that the government has committed so many corrupt acts designed to circumvent the provisions of both the Constitution, and the Bill of Rights. These acts, though not the first, nor the most recent of their kind, still can be considered to be under one umbrella, that of the Executive Order Theory, the so-far unchallenged belief that the Executive Branch has the right to suspend the rights outlined in those documents under the deliberately vague guise of ‘threats to national security’, without any definition of what those threats may be, and no oversight as to the duration or extent of the suspension of rights to be erased, er, “suspended temporarily”.

They just make their own laws that say they can, and poof, Rights all gone….. no protesting, no gathering, no voicing objections, no printing exposures or criticisms, no recourse to the courts…. what is next? No right to bear arms?….. No voting?…… No term limits?…… No life, without submission to “registration”?   I guess the choice about all this is up to us….. for the moment….. but, let’s not wait too long, shall we?…… These “executive orders” have already been signed, and are now in effect in this country….. It’s all been “Authorized!”…. and you can bet it will be enforced at the point of a gun….

“One of the saddest lessons of history is this:  If we’ve been bamboozled long enough, we tend to reject any evidence of the bamboozle.  We’re no longer interested in finding out the truth.  The bamboozle has captured us.  it is simply too painful to acknowledge — even to ourselves — that we’ve been so credulous.  (So the old bamboozles tend to persist as the new bamboozles rise.)” — Carl Sagan, “The Fine Art of Baloney Detection,” Parade, February 1, 1987
___________________________________

I couldn’t resist adding this today, as a bonus round, so to speak…. this has got to be considered as possibly the most creative haiku possible for a Westerner to write, though, to be truthful, I don’t know who wrote it. Perfect structure, suitably obscure, yet clear, it meets all the essential standards of classic haiku, but with the added fillip of a most Carlinesque observation…… priceless!…. enjoy…..

Haiku’s inventor
must have had seven fingers
on his middle hand.

Well, Murphy will have his say…. I had intended this to be extra today, but circumstances have forced my hand, aided by the ever-welcome presence of serendipity.  In a search to find the last quote for today’s lineup, the following presented itself, and fit this section so well, I decided to go with the flow…. thus, we have another poem in the haiku tradition, but by someone whose mastery is unquestionable… so, enjoy again!…

Around existence twine,
(Oh, bridge that hangs across the gorge!)
ropes of twisted vine.
— Basho
___________________________________

I admit to a certain amount of relief at coming to an end to today’s offerings; it has had its moments of struggle, and has taken no small amount of effort to persevere….. but, there is always a touch of melancholy, too, in reaching an ending. This lasts only until I remember that it remains my choice as to whether this ending becomes yet another beginning…. then, I go take a nap….. It’s been nothing if not real, ffolkes…. y’all take care out there….

P.S.  I haven’t forgotten about my siege on WordPress; I wrote a long note yesterday to someone, and will give them the courtesy of a full day to reply…. more on this as matters progress…. Blessed Be, brothers and sisters….

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

gigoid

Kowabunga!

C’mon, it’s only twins! Bonus time….

Posted on by
27

Ffolkes,
I’ve tried to play nice. I like to think I’m a patient man, and I’m probably wrong, most of the time. But not this time; I have been patient. Since my first outburst of anger and disbelief, over a week and a half ago, I haven’t even mentioned it, except in passing. As said, I’ve been patient, but I’m done with that now…..

Close to two weeks ago, I contacted WordPress Support, to report that I was having difficulty accessing certain blog sites around WP, a problem that sometimes included not being able to access my own site, unless viewing it as a visitor; when signed in, I was blocked from my site, and a number of others. Each attempt to access those sites, usually from a link in the notification emails I get when one of the blogs I follow posts a new article or poem, sends me to a blank error page, and the path to get there involves a remote login location, different each time.

It wouldn’t be so bad, I suppose, if the sites I couldn’t get to were some that I was not too familiar with, or wasn’t that into (though I haven’t found any of those). But, they’re not…. they are all favorites, sites I’ve been following daily since I found them. I’m still trying to stay convinced that it isn’t deliberate, or a conspiracy, because of the sites blocked, at least four of them are rather pointed in their posts, the point generally pointed in the direction of the PTB in the USA, and very vocal in their support of their politics, and critical of the politics of their opposite numbers in society.

But, whatever the content, I can’t get to them to read, or comment on their work….. it’s been very frustrating. If any of the following are reading today, please forgive me for not being around; I can’t do anything about it right now; but I won’t stop complaining, either…. the sites I cannot get access to include:  Jueseppi’s at the Obamacrat; allaboutlemon, Dolly’s site, including the Art Game; Vina Kent’s site; 3chicspolitico, can’t get there: starsrainsunmoon.com, Mari Cayuso’s poetry & photos site; Cauldrons & Cupcakes; Tony’s blog, Finding Subjects; and a few others I don’t remember offhand…..

So, if I don’t hear from WordPress today, which I have come to believe is not going to happen, (they have been ignoring me now for well over a week), then tomorrow I will begin my siege….. I will flood the Support section with emails and support requests (though I have already sent seven such requests, only one of which received any response at all). I will again post about the problems here on this blog. And, I will request that everyone else join me in a big raspberry for the Support department, which has been strangely silent throughout this entire ordeal.

If I still get no response, I will ask for my money back, for the domain name I am supposed to own and control, but which I cannot even consistently view. And I won’t stop there…. there are more damaging places to post such complaints, PR-wise, and I guarantee, I’ll find them…. I don’t like being ignored, and I’m more than just a little pissed off about this.  Mostly it’s the lack of response that gets me; I just don’t understand why communicating with me is such a hard thing to do. It’s not like I’m hiding or anything; I’m right here every day….. and the posts are here to prove it…..

Enough!…. this nonsense has taken up enough time and energy, that could be better spent elsewhere…. and now will be. Shall we Pearl?….. I think so….
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One of the most perverse things about the universe is that it doesn’t care what you believe. – Anonymous, our old friend….

Due primarily to that aspect of human nature called the Talent of Reality Denial, this is a hard concept for many Americans to comprehend, especially those hampered by a Christian upbringing, an unfortunately large figure. Christians are taught from an early age that the universe DOES care what they believe; they are desperate for that to be true (because if it isn’t, then they are not special, or privileged by birth; there is nothing concrete to indicate in any way that they are intrinsically better than anything else on this planet….), so, by their belief, they make it so, for them.

For these folks, entitlement, and its concomitant arrogance, come naturally, as a side-effect of considering themselves to be “chosen” by God, that it is their destiny to be His favored children. This belief bestows on them a heavenly mandate to utilize all the earth’s resources, animal, plant, mineral, water, etc., solely for their own benefit (which they generally interpret as permission to rape and pillage the rest of creation, because, by God, the Bible tells them it is their right, and their just reward for their faith). Looked at from a rational point of view, this is, of course, poodwaddle of the highest degree (I don’t think I made up that word; I’m sure I’ve seen it elsewhere….. sure fits, doesn’t it?…)

So, it becomes clear why so much time and energy is spent on divisive arguments over morality, and in public debate over the advisability of following the completely self-destructive policies of these self-styled Lords of Creation, right up to the point of extinction. It can’t be otherwise, when those who regard themselves as having heavenly mandate refuse to give up their privileged status, and are unwilling to even consider any other options. In the tiny little black holes they call their minds, any hint of such a rational viewpoint is automatically and viciously rejected out of hand as being a danger to their way of life.

It’s odd, really, that there are so many things in the universe that are a danger to their way of looking at things; it’s like they have no faith at all in their faith, or in each other, and suspect themselves of giving in to temptation at every turn. Makes one wonder just how much faith and belief they really feel about their dogma, if they are so fearful it will be forsaken at first opportunity…..

I think it would be a sad and fearful way to go through life, never feeling comfortable about the universe, always expecting it to try to turn me into my worst nightmare…. a thinking, rational being…..  and regardless of whether these folks believe it, or not, the universe just doesn’t give a shit…. at all….. massive, immutable indifference is the best we can expect…. thank you, Universe!…….

“How often have I said to you that when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth?” — Sherlock Holmes (Sir Arthur Conan Doyle), Sign of Four
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EXCERPTS FROM LIFE’S LITTLE INSTRUCTION BOOK, VOLUMES I AND II

35. Plant a tree on your birthday.
47. Don’t waste time learning the “tricks of the trade.” Instead, learn the trade.
53. Vote.
68. Be brave. Even if you’re not, pretend to be. No one can tell the difference.
100. Read the Bill of Rights.
198. Feed a stranger’s expired parking meter.
209. Observe the speed limit.*
267. Lie on your back and look at the stars.
271. When facing a difficult task, act as though it is impossible to fail. If you’re going after Moby Dick, take along the tartar sauce.
322. Don’t say you don’t have enough time. You have exactly the same number of hours per day that were given to Helen Keller, Pasteur, Michaelangelo, Mother Theresa*, Leonardo da Vinci, Thomas  Jefferson, and Albert Einstein.
393. Learn how to operate a Macintosh computer.*
513. Never laugh at anyone’s dreams.
558. Never betray a confidence.
595. Be the first to fight for a just cause.
817. Share your knowledge. It’s a way to achieve immortality.
939. Never be ashamed of your patriotism.
— H. Jackson Brown, Jr.

I’ve seen some of these on previous dives, but never found so many in one batch before….. Most of the ones I’ve seen are like these…. pretty good advice, all in all. In this list, my only hesitancy involves # 209, which obviously needs a qualifier statement, #322, a list from which I would delete Mother Theresa (she already has enough time in her day; she doesn’t need any more time to fuck with anybody else, adding to all the smarmy, self-serving false piety she already gets away with…..) and # 393, which is just sick…. no, not sick, just foolishly naive…. the rest of them are stuff that I can get behind, and would even consider pushing, if stalled….
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Here are a few historical observations on our preferred form of public entertainment……

“Democracy, which is a charming form of government, full of variety and disorder, and dispensing a sort of equality to equals and unequals alike.” — Plato, The Republic. Book VIII. 558

“Democracy is more cruel than wars or tyrants.” — Seneca, Epistulae morales ad Lucilium CIV, c. 63

“Termiter’s argument that God is His own grandmother generated a surprising amount of controversy among Church leaders, who on the one hand considered the argument unsupported by scripture but on the other hand were unwilling to risk offending God’s grandmother.” — Len Cool, American Pie  (Okay, it’s not political, but, hey, funny, right?….) (and kind of appropriate, if I stop to think about it…..) (kind of sounds similar to, and no more believable than, the current controversy over creationism and evolution….)

“I contemplate with sovereign reverence the act of the whole American people  which declared that their legislature should ‘make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof,’ thus building a wall of separation between church and state.” — Thomas Jefferson, to the Danbury (Connecticut) Baptist Association in 1802  (Whoops! How’d he get in here?….)

“Man is a religious Animal. He is the only Religious Animal. He is the only animal that has the True Religion – several of them. He is the only animal that loves his neighbor as himself and cuts his throat if his theology isn’t straight.” — Mark Twain — The Damned Human Race  (Okay, okay…. busted!  Religion and politics seem to have merged in my mind this morning…. funny how that happens…. but it still fits the category, so, deal….)

and, on a final note, let’s combine the two previously revealed (reviled?) culprits in one fine, almost-a-limerick plea for mercy….

Dear Lord, observe this bended knee
This visage meek and humble,
And hear this confidential plea
Voiced in reverent mumble:
Give me Shylock, give me Fagin
But O God spare me Ronald Reagan!
— Ansel Adams

If God is omnipotent, why does he need my money?  (Sorry, couldn’t resist…. I’m done for now…..)
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Haiku

A muse long absent
panicky fear consuming
creativity.

Shameless, isn’t it, what we will do, when nothing else will do?….. But all things considered, not too shabby….
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Statistics and their use allow one to jump from an unwarranted assumption to a preconceived conclusion without so much as even a slight hesitation. The use of such condensed information allows that compendious information may be sufficiently reduced to facilitate discussion among experts who can interpret the findings without any relation whatsoever to reality. — Anonymous, dammit….

It is frustrating, to say the least, to find a beautifully reasoned, perfectly clear statement of the obvious such as this, and not be able to congratulate or praise the author. It sounds like something Dave Barry would have said, if a bit more slangly than this seems to be. Or, possibly, Mark Twain, though he also tended to simplify his writing to more resemble actual speech. But, whoever wrote this is someone with whom I’d enjoy spending time, drinking wine and dissecting the rest of humanity’s foibles and incredible diversity…. I think I’d enjoy it a lot….
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I find myself this morning to be completely discombobulated…. Now, this may seem to be a rather radical claim, considering the relatively well-organized material I’ve just produced, despite its tendency to skip from one concept to the next with little or no warning or preparation. Nonetheless, it is true…. and here is why…..

It is now 0512, military time…. that’s a touch after 5 AM to the rest of us in this time zone on the west coast of the US, which means I’ve been at this for just over three hours now, having arisen at a few minutes after 2 AM, abandoning all my futile attempts to shut off my mind and return to dreamland. Not that I ever got very far into that fabled place; it’s tough to do so when one must get every other hour or so to deal with either pain, muscle spasms, or just plain restlessness.

SIGH…. life is tough, n’est pas? This too shall pass, I’m sure… when I’m tired enough, I’ll sleep. But, meantime, it gets my schedule all turned around… company coming today, around 1130 or so, and by then I’ll be approaching zombie status…. it could be worse; it could be someone I don’t want to see who is coming, so I’ll just suck it up, put a period on this, and get on with it…. just gotta figure out what to do now, and for the next six hours until my friend arrives…. piece o’cake….. Y’all take care out there…..

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

gigoid

Kowabunga!

Luminescent triangles of pewter, on stolen coasters….

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12

Ffolkes,
“The more articulate one is, the more dangerous words become.” — May Sarton

Man, I certainly hope so! If not, what the hell am I doing here? I’m sure as hell not spewing out my guts every day just so people will like me; it’s nice when they do, and helps me appreciate the good that remains in this sad old world, but I’m too old to spend any more effort worrying about how what I say when I write might upset somebody’s applecart. I write to get the stuff in my head out where I can look at it objectively, or at least editorially, and where I can make a rational decision as to whether or not it needs to be eased out, gently and persuasively, or spit out, decisively and vehemently.

I try not to spew too widely, to actually aim what I’m throwing, so that individuals don’t get mistakenly drenched in vitriol, but I can’t keep some folks from taking things too literally, or too personally. I think that, considering how forcefully I have been known to rant, I’ve been very fortunate that I’ve never had what I consider to be a flaming response; everyone who’s ever commented has been polite and encouraging, even those who not fully convinced of my sanity. I’ve met a lot of really nice folks here on WordPress, and online in general, and I thank every one of them for their time spent reading this drivel, and for what I get to read in return. I’m a lucky guy…..  So be it….. let’s Pearl….

“…If I seem to give a damn, please tell me. I would hate to be giving the wrong impression.” — Anonymous, but it could’ve been me….  🙂

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“…Another writer again agreed with all my generalities, but said that as an inveterate skeptic I have closed my mind to the truth.  Most notably I have ignored the evidence for an Earth that is six thousand years old.  Well, I haven’t ignored it; I considered the purported evidence and *then* rejected it. There is a difference, and this is a difference, we might say, between prejudice and postjudice.  Prejudice is making a judgment before you have looked at the facts.  Postjudice is making a judgment afterwards.  Prejudice is terrible, in the sense that you commit injustices and you make serious mistakes.  Postjudice is not terrible.  You can’t be perfect of course; you may make mistakes also.  But it is permissible to make a judgment after you have examined the evidence.  In some circles it is even encouraged.” — Carl Sagan, The Burden of Skepticism, Skeptical Enquirer, Vol. 12, pg. 46

This response by Carl Sagan to one of his fundamentalist detractors shows an important side of the entire argument (re: creationism vs. evolution) that few folks either acknowledge, or understand. In addition to this important point, the manner in which he couches his response is also to be admired…. He states, then examines the claim made by the one contending with him over this question, in a very calm, reasonable, and reasoned fashion, and explains exactly how the claim departs the realm of truth.

Carl is gentle with his opponent, indubitably nicer to him/her than I would be; I tend to grow impatient with such nonsensical conversations quickly. But he is very polite in taking the time to show how what he has done is completely different than what he is accused of, for the simple reason that the accuser made his accusation based on an assumption that could not be either proved, nor justified by reasonable argument. On the other side of the coin, and the street, Carl makes his point, with a small smile, and then, with a short, pithy observation at the end, he twists the knife, hard, and adds a touch of irony and sardonicism that most likely went flying merrily, right over the head of his opponent…… Beautiful!…..
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“To fight and conquer in all your battles is not supreme excellence; supreme excellence consists in breaking the enemy’s resistance without fighting.” — Sun Tzu (fl. c. BC 500)

The appeal of this statement is chiefly seen in its quality of simplicity, that allows even the simplest of minds to grasp and partake of its wisdom. But the grandeur, and the very depth of this piece of knowledge, often go unseen, and are little understood among the common folk. To fully understand this concept in its subtlety, one must place Sun Tzu in the correct context.

As the author of The Art of War, Sun Tzu remains as one of history’s most important figures, both in a military sense, and in a more culture-wide view of his accomplishments; the precepts in that book are still used in military schools world-wide, including West Point and Annapolis. One of those few in human history whose worth was well-known in his own time, Sun Tzu revolutionized thought on the purpose, and the very nature of the structure of armies, strategy, tactics, on the political uses of force, and on the conduct of those who would be warriors. One rumored legend claims that he never lost a battle; I see this as an exaggeration, most likely, but demonstrates the esteem in which he was held by both his supporters, and his enemies.

The strength and grandeur of this statement to which I refer is rooted in what it says, in contrast with who and what Sun Tzu was. Here is a man universally acknowledged to be the greatest warrior of his time, possibly of all time; a man who has spent his life thinking about, and practicing the art and science of war and weaponry. And what is his secret, according to him? That his work is best done when not done at all….. a paradox of unlimited possibility. Attitude, preparation, position, timing, all are key factors in a battle or war, but all are most efficiently utilized when they are never deployed for use….. this may be the single most difficult lesson a true warrior has to learn over the course of life on the warrior’s path, but learning this one key attitude provides the truest context for any other actions one may consider, and the most elegant solution to any problem of conflict…..
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Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe
All mimsy were the borogoves
And the mome raths outgrabe

— _Jabberwocky_, by Lewis Carroll (Charles Dodgson)

Now, on most days, I would include all of the first four stanzas of this classic piece of Victorian literature (which may be recognized, mostly, for it’s irrepressible need to break beyond the oppressive cultural standards of reserve at every opportunity. To be silly was to be, somehow, less than British….). But, today, upon reading this, what immediately went through my mind was, “well, shit, that happens to me all the time!”……

I ask you… is that a normal response? I have no more idea what this means than the next bozo, (without closing my eyes and channeling Zippy…) and I defy anyone at all to say they do, without first showing their certification as recently graduated from therapy (or theology: I think we all confuse those two….. both have their uses, but are extremely annoying to keep around for very long…. not to mention the expense of either one…..) (preachers are always asking for more on top of the 10% tithe they guilt everybody about, it’s what the 700 Club is all about; and let’s not get started on doctor’s fees…. $110 for 50 minutes?  You’re shitting me, right? Psychiatrists are getting as arrogant as lawyers, and we all know what we’d like to do with them…..)

But, all reasonable objections aside, what is a psychiatrist, or even a priest, going to be able to tell me about this? Are they gonna cure me of understanding gibberish? Will they drive this devil out of my fevered mind, to the everlasting regret of my soul? (Not to mention the clean-up after an exorcism; no one ever tells you about that part, do they? It’s the worst part, having to clean up all that blood and vomit that gets spread everywhere…. and who’s gonna ask the priest to do it, eh?….. it’s always the ‘nice’ brother who gets stuck with that crappy chore…..)  No, they’re not, and not merely because I’m pointing a shotgun at them… they can’t…. if I want to understand it, fuck ’em, ain’t none of theirs…. and knowing what it says, well, that’s priceless…..
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“Beauty is a form of genius–is higher, indeed, than genius, as it needs no explanation. It is of the great facts in the world like sunlight, or springtime, or the reflection in dark water of that silver shell we call the moon.” — Oscar Wilde (1856-1900)

Sometimes, when Oscar speaks, it is almost an onomatopoeia, (woo-hoo! spelled it right in one!….). For those of you who, like me, are a bit unclear on the word’s exact meaning, having not used it, or seen it for close to 45 years, well, it may not be unreasonable to expect some confusion. But, as you most likely did, or will do, I looked it up to make sure I remembered correctly what it meant. Since I did, what I said is, for me at least, quite true…. to me, being able to write like that is a thoroughly admirable trait…. I would guess I’m not alone in hoping that my writing will someday achieve the same quality…. to serve by its very existence, structure, and most importantly, its sound, as a perfect expression in Reality of what the words describe.  “Beauty is a form of genius”….. “like sunlight, or springtime, or….”  Just reading the sentence takes one’s mind and imagination precisely to the spot in Reality where that concept resides, where one may look at it, touch its face, and breathe the perfume of its grace and charm…..
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It is the heart afraid of breaking
that never learns to dance.
It is the dream afraid of waking
that never takes a chance.
It is the one who won’t be taken
who cannot seem to give.
And the soul afraid of dying
that never learns to live.
— Bette Midler, The Rose

Well, it seemed to take forever to find the last pearl for today, but serendipity stepped in once more to grace our presence with its bounty…. the above is one of my all-time favorite songs, both for the simple depth and beauty of the poetry, and for the same simple depth and beauty of its performance by Ms. Midler.  If you are not familiar with it, take a couple moments to Google it, or ask You Tube to find a video version; it will be there somewhere. (I think she also sang it in one of her movies, title not in memory, but the one where she and her lover are performers for the USO during WWII….)

Listen closely to the lyrics, not just this stanza, but the entire song, chorus and all.  You won’t regret it, unless, of course, you have left all sense of taste in your other pants….. no lessons here, just let it make your day…… it has that power….. hell, it’s so good, I didn’t even have to go listen to it; it’s playing nice and softly in my head right now…..
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“Don’t try to have the last word. You might get it.” — Lazarus Long

Well…. like most authors, I tend to forget this little bit of important wisdom in the heat and distraction of the creative process… after a while, pounding the keyboard just seems like the natural response to outrage, or angst, or even just incipient boredom. But, it goes hand in hand with another fine old truism from Eastern philosophy, “be careful what you wish for, you might get it”……. Y’all take care out there…..

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

gigoid

Kowabunga!

Venal to sublime is ready in booth two….

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7

Ffolkes,
The process of getting up in the morning was somewhat delayed today, when I started to arise, and my brain SNARLED at me! It’s never done that before, and needless to say, I was a bit shocked! It didn’t bite, but it sure sounded serious; I was compelled to soothe it a bit by sitting on the edge of the bed, petting and talking to it softly; after just a moment or two, it stopped its grumbling and joined the rest of the group in getting on with routine. Before it got up to join the rest, it even gave me a big sloppy lick on the face, as if to say it was sorry for growling at me…..

Whew! I don’t think I want to go through THAT every morning; I’d better check its feed, see if something out of the ordinary got in there by mistake. Generally I only feed it massive amounts of well written words in a line, with accompanying classical or blues for music, and the occasional humorous cat or cute animal video for variety. Sometimes the videos will give it gas; maybe that’s the problem. I hope so, I sure don’t need a trip to the psychiatrist, just so I can get up in the AM without a fight…. at$90 or more an hour, it’s not a win-win….

With that short, yet all-too-long little nod to yesterday’s uncommon whimsy, we brace ourselves, and dive in willy-nilly, fully prepared to enjoy our daily Pearl…..
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“It’s said that ‘power corrupts’, but actually it’s  more true  that power attracts the corruptible.  The sane are usually attracted by other things than power.  When  they do  act,  they  think of it as service, which has limits. The tyrant, though, seeks mastery, for which he is  insatiable, implacable.” — David Brin, The Postman

I used this some months back, but it is so accurate, especially in today’s climate of political fooferah, (lovely word, so apropos! even if its made-up…), that I am compelled to use it again, without shame or remorse, for it is a piece of truth that we all need to be familiar with, for our own protection. You see, the current crop of folks vying for the top spot in the limelight that shifts around prior to the upcoming election frenzy in D.C. and all around this battered bastion of alleged freedom we call home, are all clearly members of the latter group, the potential tyrants. Hell, they are not merely clear examples of such, they are seemingly proud of it.

Each and every one of the pretenders to the throne (i.e., the “loyal opposition party”, or “candidates”, or, as they are known on the street, “the dog and pony show”) has made it clear that they are not seeking this position for the benefit of the American people; hell, they clearly don’t even like Americans much. They make statements every day that demonstrate that a) they are clueless as to what being the President actually entails; they continually make remarks that show they would be attempting to perform actions not within the purview, or the actual powers of, the Presidency, and b) they are more interested in promoting the ascendancy of their own particular religion than they are in taking part in a political process. And these guys are the BEST they think they can come up with to challenge the sitting party. Did I mention their apparently ingrained clueless state?….

That, I think, is the saving grace in the entire scenario…. these idiots are so out of touch with reality, and the American public they think they should represent, that no one with any sense at all is paying much attention to their writhing and contortions.  In spite of the nearly limitless presence of it in all sectors of society, there isn’t quite enough ignorance out there to quite be able to push us all down that road….. yet……. but don’t stop watching them! They’re sneaky, by nature……

“A generation which ignores history has no past and no future.” —  Robert Heinlein, The Notebooks of Lazarus Long
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“I felt like poisoning a monk.” — Umberto Eco on why he wrote the novel The Name of the Rose.

I like this…. I think Umberto and I would have some lovely conversations. I can see us, sitting at a table at the edge of a beautiful garden, with vineyards in the distance, laughing and trading whoppers late into the night, while happily consuming large glasses of excellent wine, and scaring the wildlife….. No, really, what a great way to find one’s inspiration, especially for a tight, well-told murder mystery set in the what, 13th century? You could murder anybody you wanted, and never have to worry about getting arrested; imagine the release of tension as you personally described how the poison caused this pious asshole, (or noisy neighbor, whatever….) to shrivel up and die in unspeakable agony, after personally slipping the poison into the sacrificial wine you knew the pervert would be hitting right after the communion services….. exquisite!

Some mornings you will find, at the beginning of these gurgitations (can’t come up with exactly the word to describe what these are….fill in your own guess, if that one doesn’t do it for you….)….  a short opening paragraph or two from an as-yet unwritten new story that pops into my head on a regular basis. Unfortunately, as I tried to explain to a friend last night when she asked me to finish one of them, those opening paragraphs are the entire content of what my brain is percolating; no further details of said story are ever found anywhere.

But, as I told her, I’m just waiting…. one of these times, an outline of an entire plot-line, complete with suggested side-plots and characters to include or make up, will grow in my inner eye as I type, until there is enough to fill in a complete short story, or novelette, or who knows, an epic poem! (Probably not the latter; I’m aware of my limitations….small as they are….)  And I like to think it will all come from a moment such as Umberto describes…. an instant of mad whimsy that points me toward an opportunity to express my store of unlimited possibility…..
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A poem:                          to be read aloud:

<> !*”#                          Waka waka bang splat tick tick hash,
^`$$-                             Caret quote back-tick dollar dollar dash,
!*=@$_                         Bang splat equal at dollar under-score,
%*<> ~#4                     Percent splat waka waka tilde number 4,
&[]../                             Ampersand bracket bracket dot dot slash,
|{,,SYSTEM HALTED     Vertical-bar curly-bracket comma comma CRASH.

— Fred Bremmer and Steve Kroese — Calvin College & Seminary of Grand Rapids, MI.

The urge to poetry strikes even the humblest among us…..  🙂   Ain’t it Grand!…. and, for full understanding of this, to get the real feel, it MUST be read aloud….. enjoy!
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“Say what you will about the sweet miracle of unquestioning faith, I consider a capacity for it terrifying and absolutely vile!” — Kurt Vonnegut, Jr.

Yes…. sometimes I DO get tired of writing about heretical, oppositional, or even merely controversial things. But it’s not my fault! Every day, I read the news, I listen to the gossip (best source of REAL info on what folks are thinking about in their copious free time…), and I go online to find out what’s up out there in the world at large. What do I find?

Teens being murdered by bigots, or bullied and persecuted to the point of suicide for being ‘different’. People being starved or beaten, or killed by their own countrymen. People being starved, beaten, or killed by those from other countries (Our country in particular has a nasty habit of dropping bombs on places where we, well, wherever we feel like it….). Children being abused by priests, by educators, by corporations, by priests again, (sorry, but it’s pretty ubiquitous; more common than ever admitted, or guessed….), worst of all, by their own parents. Wars breaking out, over disputed territory, over paranoia, over false claims of insult to promote private agendas and ambitions, over whose imaginary friend dresses better.  Millions and millions of people oppressed economically and kept in ignorance, manipulated to chase after pipe dreams promoted by the elitist, sycophantic, racist churches and religious pundits of all faiths and formats, all of whom preach tolerance while practicing bigotry while supporting corruption. Women being kidnapped and forced to engage in prostitution, by sociopathic and sadistic misogynists (sometimes known as Conservative Republicans, or organized criminals) . OUR OWN FUCKING LEADERS SIGNING AWAY OUR DAMN RIGHTS, JUST AS IF THEY HAD ANY RIGHT TO DO SO, IN THE NAME OF “NATIONAL SECURITY” FOR FUCK’S SAKE!!!!!

Odd, I don’t recall anything in the Constitution, or the Bill of Rights, that mentions “national security” as a legal, or even desirable, excuse to restrict the rights of American citizens…. but that may be because it’s not in there….. anywhere….. Tell them all to stop pulling all this stupid shit right in front of me, and I will stop writing about it…. deal?…..
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“I’ve wrestled with reality for 35 years, and I’m happy, Doctor, I finally won out over it.” — Jimmy Stewart in Harvey, 1950.

I’ve never before realized that “Harvey” was released the year I was born…. a nice little fact that adds to my conviction that it was an auspicious year for the Universe. It also may explain why I’ve always felt a particular connection to, and appreciation for, both the movie, and the brilliance of its protagonist, Elwood P. Dowd, so magnificently portrayed by Jimmy Stewart. I’ve always considered it to be one of the five best movies ever made, and still do. Its relevance and appeal for every man, woman, and child, its warmth and humor, its very insightful, accurate, and forgiving  character portrayals, its breezy insouciance and irrepressible positivism, all combine to give it that indefinable quality by which one can always recognize classic truth, costumed here in the guise of a large, amiable six-foot tall rabbit named Harvey……
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And so we come to the end of another day’s trip around my head…. if you’re having second thoughts as to the value of spending this much time on my ramblings, consider this…. it’s original, in a personal sense, if not always entirely new, fresh subject matter; it’s non-fattening, almost entirely protein-based; and the price is right, only a bit of your time and attention….. what a deal!  Come on back tomorrow, for another turn around my oyster beds…..  Y’all take care out there…..

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

gigoid

Kowabunga!