Tag Archives: Poetry

Until Bob returns, no cha-cha, & no rhumba….

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Ffolkes,
As I sit here, laughing at myself, I have to admit, my Bozoid tendencies are in full swing this morning…. I’ve been steadily plugging along, filling in the blanks as I go through the morning routine, for about 35 minutes now. Got a lot done too, on starting a Pearl. I even had the intro section completely done, and was dutifully searching for pearls, when I was confronted by my own silliness and failure to be a Lert….. or, if you insist, alert…..

I started to paste a poem below, and realized I was posting it into tomorrow’s Pearl template. This is also where I had already composed and written an intro section leading into the Pearl….. see my problem?  Complete time distortion ensues…. Now I’m dazed again, much like the first 5 minutes of being up, before the first sip of coffee kicks in enough to raise the eyelids a fraction, and will need to take a minute here to regroup…… I’ll be back in a few, when I have caught up to reality again….. mumble, grumble, phtt….

I have re-established contact with reality, and we can now move on to bigger and better things…. if that particular phrase can be considered to apply to this process…. as the old Dead song says, “head’s all empty, and I don’t care….”   No worries, we’ll just go now and find something with which we can fill it up…. shall we Pearl?……
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C:\> erase c:\reality.sys; copy a:\pern\*.* c:

This pearl is a bit of a test…. What I’ve written here is, of course, a DOS command line. (I wrote ‘of course’ before I fully realized that it is ‘of course’ only to those who are familiar with DOS, which may not include the more modern users among us. For those ffolkes, just think of it as double clicking on a program you want to use…..) The test is to tell me, in the comment section, if you know what the command tells the computer to do….

It’s quite a simple command, though the .exe installation file it points to is VERY complex…. and that is your only clue….  Let’s see who’s paying attention, as well as who is well grounded in both computers and literature….. luck won’t be needed, and wouldn’t help in any case, but, good luck!  If no one figures it out before tomorrow morning’s Pearl gets written, I’ll reveal the answer then….
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The only point in the following entry is to preserve my sanity. In looking over the last few Pearls, I found a disturbing lack of poetry. Oh, there was some there, but not enough to suit my needs…. if I don’t get enough of the grace and beauty that good poetry provides, I get testy, to say the least. That probably accounts for the 800-1000 word rants in the last couple of posts. That has actually worked out well; I was able to publish two of those rants to another site as solitary articles. But, in the process, I’ve built up a need for the serenity that a good poem gives me…. so, here are three of them, all capable of filling my need, and, hopefully, yours….. enjoy!

Weep no more, nor sigh, nor groan,
Sorrow calls no time that ‘s gone;
Violets plucked, the sweetest rain
Makes not fresh nor grow again.
— John Fletcher (1576-1625)  — The Queen of Corinth, Act iii, Sc. 2

How fading are the joys we dote upon!
Like apparitions seen and gone.
But those which soonest take their flight
Are the most exquisite and strong,–
Like angels’ visits, short and bright;
Mortality ‘s too weak to bear them long.
— John Norris (1657-1711) — The Parting

But words are things, and a small drop of ink,
Falling like dew upon a thought, produces
That which makes thousands, perhaps millions, think.
— Lord Byron (1788-1824) — Don Juan, Canto iii, Stanza 88

I don’t know about you, but I feel better…..

Oft in the stilly night,
Ere slumber’s chain has bound me,
Fond memory brings the light
Of other days around me;
The smiles, the tears,
Of boyhood’s years,
The words of love then spoken;
The eyes that shone
Now dimmed and gone,
The cheerful hearts now broken.
— Thomas Moore (1779-1852) — Oft in the Stilly Night

I know, I know, I said three… but this one popped up in front of me, glommed onto my leg before I could dodge, and insisted that I include it with the others. Then I looked at it, and was sunk…. It’s not like I jabbed you in the eye with a stick, now, is it?…… Don’t worry, it won’t hurt you to have another; they’re calorie free……
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“The Buddha, the Godhead, resides quite as comfortably in the circuits of a digital computer or the gears of a cycle transmission as he does at the top of a mountain or in the petals of a flower.  To think otherwise is to demean the Buddha — which is to demean oneself.” — Robert Pirsig, “Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance”

I like this. I liked it when I first read the book, more years ago than I care to think about, and it still clicks with my way of looking at things, as if Buddha himself was talking directly to me…. I admire it so much, that’s all I’m going to say on the subject. This can speak for itself……
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“If fifty million people say a foolish thing, it is still a foolish thing.” — Bertrand Russell

We are now experiencing first hand the beginning effects of the proof of this proposition. Our world-wide society has succumbed to the truth in this statement, and are actively, and obliviously, pursuing foolishness en masse. One need only look through the daily news to see this demonstrated; article after article explores concepts and events that illustrate the full and complete absence of critical thought that is rampant in our culture. No matter how outrageous the statement, no matter how silly the proposal, no matter how egregious the lie, if a talking head on TV says it, fifty million people will jump right up and cheer its arguable (to any minds but theirs…) merit, and give it their unquestioning belief.

Do I really need to point out examples? Oh, right, evidence is good…. Okay. Easy money. How about….. Mitt Romney?  Here is a man who has spent the last 10 months or so running around the US to various political electoral farces, er, functions, and has repeatedly lied, or pandered to special interests in the face of another, or alienated entire segments of the voting public (such as women, and the poor), or changed a position one day after claiming it as his own, so many times there are a number of web sites that are devoted just to keeping track of his contradictory and/or fictional statements, of what he has the temerity to call facts.  I’m not picking on him; it’s all out there in black and white for anyone to see.

Yet this man is the apparent next candidate for the Presidency of this country as the Republican choice. If we are to believe it, he has the support not only of numerous officials and “important public figures” in his party, but of millions upon millions of folks who seem unable or unwilling to examine any of his public statements for truth or accuracy. It’s almost as if he were a talking fundamentalist Bible…. He said it, they believe it, and that’s that…… possessing, as they apparently do, steel traps instead of minds. Anything that gets in, isn’t getting out alive, that’s for sure and for certain… As a bonus prize in the foolishness category, the folks who generally fall for this kind of chicanery have the following attitude as well…

“When you are sure you’re right, you have a moral duty to impose your will upon anyone who disagrees with you.” — Robert W. Mayer

And people wonder why I’m cynical…… here is a short verse that laments the absence of the kind of men I wish were running this country…. and I am saddened by the fact that I can think of no man, or woman, in office or out, who fits this mold…..

Statesman, yet friend to truth! of soul sincere,
In action faithful, and in honour clear;
Who broke no promise, serv’d no private end,
Who gain’d no title, and who lost no friend.
— Alexander Pope (1688-1744) — Moral Essays, Epistle to Mr. Addison
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But hush! hark! a deep sound strikes like a rising knell!
Did ye not hear it?–No! ‘t was but the wind,
Or the car rattling o’er the stony street.
On with the dance! let joy be unconfined;
No sleep till morn, when Youth and Pleasure meet
To chase the glowing hours with flying feet.
— Lord Byron (1788-1824) — Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage, Canto iii, Stanza 22

So, I needed another hit of exquisite….. so sue me… I’ll add an extra pearl, okay?….
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Wedding March:  19th Century, England

“The traditional church wedding features two bridal marches, by two different classical composers. The bride walks down the aisle to the majestic, moderately paced music of the “Bridal Chorus” from Richard Wagner’s 1848 opera “Lohengrin”.  The newlyweds exit to the more jubilant, upbeat strains of the “Wedding March” from Felix Mendelssohn’s “A Midsummer Night’s Dream.”

The custom dates back to the royal marriage, in 1858, of Victoria, princess of Great Britain, and Empress of Germany, to Prince Frederick William of Prussia.  Victoria, eldest daughter of Britain’s Queen Victoria, selected the music herself.  A patron of the arts, she valued the works of Mendelssohn and practically venerated those of Wagner. Given the British penchant for copying the monarchy, soon brides throughout the Isles, nobility and commoners alike, were marching to Victoria’s drummer, establishing a Western wedding tradition.”

It seems at first glance that this entry has little significance in relation to what usually passes here for subject matter. Admittedly, it is less of an issue than my usual pick of stuff upon which to rant. Calm yourselves, I’m not going to rant about this…. I have included it for one reason only, and that is to demonstrate that the power of celebrity has its roots further back in our cultural history than might at first be apparent. This short historical note on weddings clearly shows how the famous in society influence the culture as a whole, and have done so since well before the advent of radio, news delivery over international distances, TV, and the internet.

The actions of one woman, the most visible public figure of her time, were sufficiently of interest to the rest of society as to institute a new custom, which persists to this day, and not just in the British Isles. Public opinion can thus be seen to be manipulable by the simplest of means, to wit: if the public likes it, they’ll buy it…. simple, yet effective, and obviously well-known to those who manipulate others as a rule of policy….. funny, sometimes where one can find evidence of humanity’s vulnerabilities, isn’t it?…..

“It is easier to perceive error than to find truth, for the former lies on the surface and is easily seen, while the latter lies in the depth, where few are willing to search for it.” — Goethe
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As another morning’s musings draw to a close, I find myself a trifle melancholy. I’m sure it is temporary, and merely the result of finishing what has been fun to create. Since I’m happy with it as it is, we’ll get on with the rest of the procedure, and speed this on its way to cyberspace, and your perusal….. enjoy!  Y’all take care out there…..

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

gigoid

Kowabunga!

Fast Pan Soft Toe Shoe Affairs….

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42

Ffolkes,
Legal requirements are such that I must inform you that today’s Pearl may exceed the normal limits on acceptable behavior for blogs whose content consists primarily of personal observations and opinions. I got eight hours sleep last night, if the clock isn’t lying to me, and I don’t know just what effect that will have on what goes in here. So, I figure I’d best give y’all a head’s up….

HEY! LOOK OUT!  Reading this may be hazardous. Not to you health, per se, but to your state of mind, which, it is acknowledged, MAY affect one’s health. But, there is really no worries, mates….. if you take a few basic precautions, you’ll be just fine.

First, try to suspend your beliefs for a bit…. I know, it’s hard, and they complain so much. But, if they aren’t lending their usual degree of panicky, tearful insecurity nonsense to the mix, you will be able to enjoy the show more.

Second, I’m afraid you’ll need to leave your prejudices outside the theater; you can leave them in your car, if you wish, Security officers are on patrol (somewhere…. not near your car, but somewhere…). In the rarefied atmosphere that today’s missive is likely to produce, they would constitute a severe moral hazard, and I cannot allow other patrons to be at risk for anyone’s misguided preconceptions of that nature. So, just leave them in the trunk of your car, please, for everyone’s safety, including your own.

Last, and most importantly, remember that this is all a process of finding and creating Pearls of VIRTUAL Wisdom…  Virtual. Not solid, not tangible. Not necessarily real, though at times they appear identical to actual wisdom. Maintaining a certain degree of disbelief will come in handy for you in absorbing and processing the material with which you will be presented during the festivities this morning. In short, have a little Doubt handy in case you are having trouble with what you are reading….. a little doubt is a powerful tool for sanity, believe me….. now, shall we Pearl?…. Let’s do that…..
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“We, the people, are not free.  Our democracy is but a name.  We vote? What does that mean?  We choose between Tweedledum and Tweedledee.” — Helen Keller

Odd, don’t you think, that the most insightful views of society are often presented by those who have no sight at all? Helen Keller was, obviously, an intelligent woman; no matter how patient the teacher, a stupid person could not have become the woman Ms. Keller became, without at least a modicum of basic ability to think. To think well, one must learn to observe well, and she has definitely got that down, for in no other way could this statement have been made. And that, to me, is the point. She is(was) a smart woman, and if this observation can be considered to be true, (differences of opinion on that point may be presented, and welcome, but for another discussion…. for now, lets discuss this….) why isn’t anyone else saying or doing anything to address the issue?

Well, I’ll tell ya, pardner, it’s like this…. Tweedledum and Tweedledee already fixed the election, and nobody noticed. Yup. It’s true. I would say that the voting process in this country has been a sham for oh, about 49 years, give or take a month or two. It got shot to hell, right about the same moment the rifle bullet struck the back of Jack Kennedy’s neck on that fateful day in 1963 when he was assassinated, and the last hope of the American people died with him……

When LBJ took office, it was the end of democracy as we know it. From that time to now, there has been NO candidate for the Presidency of this country who would have been, or ever again will be,  allowed to run, if the true rulers of the nation did not, or do not approve.

Our true rulers have been underground, in the background, for a long time; they don’t like the public’s eye turned upon them, for they know that if the light falls on them, it won’t take long for all their evil to start to show. These men (there are no women in the group, other than those who become even more male than their counterparts, in their vicious disregard for the rest of humanity) have been in effective control of the political process for even longer; it just became more obvious at the time of Kennedy’s demise, and has been harder to cover up ever since.

I find it disturbing to see Mitt Romney out there, seemingly with their approval, as he is far too close to what one of their inner circle looks like, and they aren’t shutting him up. This implies they no longer care if anyone sees their manipulations, and that they believe they don’t need to hide as much as before, because there is NOTHING anyone can do to change the outcome that they have already decided on. Or, it could be a sort of sleight of hand…. present Romney for people to watch, then get Obama safely elected, and settle right back into the process of eliminating the Bill of Rights, a project they’ve been working on for some time now.

I feel I must point out to all the folks out there who believe our current President to be a new hope, that this is the same man who signed the National Defense Authorization Act into effect on New Year’s Eve, while the American public was busy drinking and celebrating the new year, completely unaware that their oh-so-liberal president had just handed the Bill of Rights over to the National Security Agency, and its myrmidons, to do with as it pleased….. If you doubt me on this, check the news from that day…. it’s a fact, it happened, and it is now too late…. officially.

The first and middle rounds are done folks. It is now the final rounds, and we are now officially at war, at least at the ballot box,  with our own government, by their own decree. I don’t know about y’all, but I’m stocking up on ammunition, food, water, and body armor…… because the day of the final showdown is not far away. One of these days, and it is not far off, the gloves are going to come off all the way, and you will see the government of this country firing weapons at its own citizens, in the name of “public security”….

I’d think about this, if I were y’all, and think seriously. Try not to believe whatever they tell you, just because a guy on TV said it; examine everything with a critical eye, and speak up. But, be ready to duck, because I have a feeling they are no longer going to even give a warning shot, or yell, before they fire at us….. If you look at them, you will see that the ‘executive orders’ in the NDAA say they are not required to do so….

Don’t be distracted, folks, by all the yammering going on about taxes, or healthcare, or racism, or any of the other bullshite that is currently touted as “what the American people care about”, and being spewed out of every media orifice in the land.  I care about my rights. I care about being able to live my life as I choose. I care about human dignity, and freedom, and compassion for others. But this election isn’t about any of those things, it’s not what is in the papers, and it’s not what is in the people’s hearts. It is about control over society, and money. That’s it.

It has been about that for a long time now. Unless the American public comes to its senses, it isn’t going to change, either, until Mama Nature steps in, and sends us all back to the drawing board as another failed biological experiment. That is Reality folks, and is not subject to our manipulation. We can control what we see of Reality, but we can’t change its nature, and it will end us as surely as the sun comes up every morning, if we don’t make some drastic changes. And, unfortunately, none of those changes will be allowed by the beloved ruling class, so….. end game…… Deal with it….

Once you’ve tried to change the world you find it’s a whole bunch easier to change your mind. — Smart Bee
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Morality is learned, not legislated. — Smart Bee

This will be a very short section. The above is something I believe to have the force of natural law behind it; as such it is not susceptible to our ability or desire to change it. It’s just the way it is. And I wish, for all of our sakes, that all the idiots in government, liberals, conservatives, libertarians, independents, and the churches in this country, of ALL denominations, would get this into their heads, and learn to accept the fact that there is NOTHING THEY CAN DO TO CHANGE THIS….. no matter how strongly they wish it weren’t so, it is so.

No matter how many laws they make and/or pass to try to legislate what they believe to be moral into law, each and every one of them will fail. History has proved this beyond any shadow of possible doubt,  literally thousands and thousands of times, and it is no longer a subject for serious debate. It hasn’t been for three thousand years, though people seem to act differently, and continue to complain, and try to “make it so”…..

So, please, those of you who wish that the rest of society would just be like you, forget it. Not going to happen, and you can’t pass a law to make it so…. Get over it…….please. All the noise and crap you subject the rest of us to is getting tiresome….

Horatio: O day and night, but this is wondrous strange!
Hamlet: And therefore as a stranger give it welcome.
There are more things in heaven and Earth, Horatio,
Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.
— W. Shakespeare, Hamlet, Act I, Scene V

(I know, it’s from Willie, but when it fits, I use it, no matter whose it is…..)
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“A nuclear war cannot be won and must never be fought.” — Ronald Reagan

I’m a fair person; it says so right here on the label, and I think an examination of my record in that arena would indicate the truth of that statement. So, when I find myself to be in the wrong about something, I am willing to admit it, if for no other reason, so we can just get on with things. So, mostly, when I’m wrong, I say I’m wrong. After finding and reading the above, though it galls me no end, I have to admit to being wrong about Ronald Reagan. Yes, I know, a shocking thought isn’t it?

Well, calm yourselves, it isn’t what you may think. In toto, I still think that Ronnie was perhaps the absolute worst President this country has seen in its 200+ year history. We are still, as a society, trying to crawl out of the hole his Reaganomics dug for us, and his war-mongering, rich fat cat, elitist sycophants and admirers are still entrenched throughout the legislative system and the Supreme Court, causing no end of problems with their conservative lack of compassion for the common man. No, no, I’m no fool, and the evidence of his sheer evil intent remains just as valid as it ever was.

But, the above statement, if he actually said it, and actually believed it, must be acknowledged as being not just true, but as eminently sensible. In that case, it deserves mention, if only for the fact that, for once in his life, he made a statement that indicates there might be a tiny little part of him that thinks about other people and what might be good for them.

More likely, however, given his prior track record, he believes that because of the danger to HIMSELF, the risk is too great; he doesn’t like for things to not yield to his control. I would have a hard time accepting that, all of a sudden, out of nowhere, he grew a conscience…. Not bloody likely…… I don’t like to resort to calling names, when English suits itself so well to cursing and vilifying without depending on their no-doubt cathartic use, but I’m afraid Ronnie was an elitist asshole, plain and simple.

Have you taunted a Conservative today?– Smart Bee

(Smarter than usual, too… Cute….. Conservatives, just like Liberals, turn all sorts of neat colors when you question their basic beliefs, or show disrespect for their heroes, especially Saint Ronnie the Raygun…. or, Bishop Barry, the New Hope….NOT!)

(Sorry, but, I think, therefore I am… dangerous, that is… it’s a gift…..)
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“In walking, just walk. In sitting, just sit. Above all, don’t wobble.” — Yun-Men

This is good advice. Think about it a while. It will grow on you….. and grow…. and grow…. and grow….. then you can stop. And wobble no more…
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“The hottest places in hell are reserved for those who in times of great moral crises maintain their neutrality.” — Dante Alighieri (1265-1321)

Though I’m not entirely convinced of physical reality of the entire Heaven/Hell scenario, I do like to believe that some sort of Universal justice is carried out, and after death is certainly a good time for it. When I let myself imagine such fine examples of that justice promised by almost every religion in the afterlife, my tendency is to agree fully with the above. But, I would also like to add that I like to believe that there are quite a few little doors on the lowest levels of Hell (if it’s as bad as it should be, it should be capitalized), and each leads to a room for a number of folks who absolutely deserve to be there for all eternity…..

There would be, in my version of Hell, a room for those who deliberately abuse women, children, animals of any kind, or any form of life at all; it is a genetic defect and the species would be better off without them altogether. This room is a good response by Reality, if we MUST suffer their existence.

Another room would be reserved for those who seek power over other people, for any reason. Those in that category who use that power to harm, abuse, and kill others in the search for that power will be given priority admission.

A fourth room would welcome those who engaged in human trafficking of any type. All of them. Every single fucking one of them. And the tortures and pain waiting for them in that room would be the cruelest, most agonizing that the Master Torturer’s demons could think up for them.

Right next door to this room would be those who dealt drugs for profit and power, dealing directly with, as both cause and effect, the despair and weakness of human poverty, and the vulnerability caused by that, by illness, or by developmental challenges. In short, those who made money trading in human misery.

I think that’s all the doors I would need; but, humans are inventive, and I like to think that there are still doors available, for any other crimes that humans can think up to perpetrate on one another that I may have inadvertently passed over…. I’m sure, as a professional, Beelzebub has learned to plan for the future, and for unseen contingencies…..

Well, even if it’s all a fantasy, which I have to admit is quite likely (even my most optimistic side will only admit to a 50/50 chance of this resembling reality, much as I’d like it to happen this way…..), it’s fun to think about, for our own sanity…..
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As I suspected when I awoke this morning, after eight unexpected but thoroughly welcome and appreciated hours of sleep, today’s content got rather…. expansive is a good word, I guess. I thought it might; getting that much rest tends to give me a boost of energy, which will naturally end up in what I write, as it is the first real call for it during the day. I don’t, however, always know just what may be produced by all that energy; if it taps into my outrage, it can tie me to the keyboard for a long time, ranting. Or, it can turn to fantasy, and get a bit strange even for me. No way to tell ahead of time, what with the way I carry out this process…..

All seems to have gone well today, though, so, no worries…. the Helen Keller rant gave me a thousand words that I’ll probably trim to post as an article on Triond or somewhere, so that’s a good thing. And it all looks solid to me, cognitively speaking. So, I’m going to let if fly on its own, and let the consequences begin; I seem to have been indiscriminate in my choice of targets, and didn’t leave out very many……. Y’all take care out there……

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

gigoid

Kowabunga!

Zero is a hard row to hoe……

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24

Ffolkes,
Having decided to forgo the usual nonsense, there will be no introductory section this morning. Yesterday’s near-disastrous hijacking of my keyboard has put me on edge, security-wise, and I think it is best if I just leave this section out, and go right into today’s dive….. oh. Wait. Hmm…… this is already an intro, isn’t it? Well, so much for that idea….

Well, since I can’t say, “I love it when a plan comes together!”, I guess I’ll just have to say, “WTF?”  (See? I AM capable of tact….. I could have spelled it out, couldn’t I?…. all part of the service…..) The latter is more honest, at base, and expresses my normal state of mind in the morning much more accurately. I’m finding that displaying such personal foibles is preferable to humanity’s normal policy of insisting all is well, everything is fine, nothing to see here, move along….. if nothing else, it garners more sympathy votes, which, though demeaning to accept, nonetheless help to stuff the ballot box. Cheating is, after all, the American Way…… if you doubt that, you really need to pay more attention…..

I’m not sure exactly what all that has to do with pearl diving; it sounded more as if I were just clearing my throat, mentally speaking, and really doesn’t say much of anything at all. Well, the last line is pretty pointed, but I didn’t jab very hard with it, so it doesn’t really count. At this point, once again, it would most likely be our best course of action to run to the end of the dock, and just dive in…. it would probably put the best end to a bad start, and may even save lives….. on that note, we are outta here….. let’s Pearl, like we did last summer…..
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Ralph Barbieri fired as radio announcer at station KNBR in San Francisco, 4/10/2012…. link to article:

http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/c/a/2012/04/11/SP8G1O1SLU.DTL

I first heard Mr. Barbieri’s voice around 1984, when he first joined KNBR and the SF Bay Area sports scene. I have to say, right off the bat, his voice grates on my ear like fingernails across a chalkboard; there is a reason he has always been known as “Razor Voice Ralph”. It has always stood as an obstacle for me to listen to him for very long, as my nerve endings just start to vibrate along with his voice after a few minutes.

However, that being said, I also must add that I have always admired his work, in spite of his delivery. From the start of his career, he asked the tough questions, and never settled for a fluff answer from anyone, big star or not. If he believed in something, he was a passionate crusader for that cause, as indicated by his campaign to keep the Giants in SF when the team was considering a move to Florida. His involvement was a big part of the success of that campaign, during which he was tireless, making his love of sports, and particularly the Giants, plain for all to see. He always prepared and researched thoroughly, and was expert in almost any sport’s details. Though his voice and rough-hewn personality were difficult to ignore, he nonetheless remains a stalwart and professional example of a competent, and popular, sports reporter, for that is what he really is.

Ralph was fired in a manner with which I can empathize very closely. It took my employer about 15 minutes to accomplish what his company did with him in 7, but the net results were identical, right down to the blocked voice mail. I did manage to rate an escort off-grounds by hospital police rather than management, so I guess that is one small difference. Otherwise, me and Ralph, we’re twins on this….. so, I know somewhat of what he feels right now. Given that knowledge I must commend his reasoned initial public response; I’m afraid that, given his media exposure quotient, I would have been a lot more forceful in my response to such chicanery, and would no doubt have caused my lawyer no end of wincing and wringing of hands at my inflammatory public ranting.

But, the saddest part of the whole affair that I found was in the comments section after the article on SFGATE, wherein readers have the opportunity to sound off on the news articles on the site. One has to register to comment, but it’s free, so they have a pretty huge online community that comments on EVERYTHING.  I spent a little time after my initial comment, which kind of paralleled what I wrote just above, reading over some of the other comments.

I was shocked, to say the least, by the number of responses that were not merely sympathetic to the company that did the firing, but actually expressed outright glee at what had been perpetrated on Ralph by a company where he proved his value over 28 years. In only three pages I viewed to to gather some numbers, the responses that were viciously petty toward Ralph, or merely resigned at the company’s behavior, were approximately 65-75% of the total number I saw….. it was absolutely astounding how many calloused, uncaring ignoramuses had spoken up to display their complete lack of humanity.

“Nadie tiene mas imaginacion que la realidad.” — Miguel de Unamuno, “El Espejo de la Muerte”, 1941

It isn’t often I’m prompted, or stimulated, to write several hundred words on a sports story. I’m a fan, yes, but it isn’t a big time-consumer in my life, just an occasional trip into vicarious thrills and fond memories of bygone days. But the sheer number of petty, self-absorbed, even downright vicious responses was a surprise to me. Yes, me, the complete cynic when it comes to human stupidity and bigotry. But even I had no idea that the state of public morality had fallen into so deep a pit as is indicated in the responses to this issue, one of no particular cosmic or even national significance.

I am now going to excuse myself, and go finish drawing up my plans for what I’m going to do when civilization comes to a crashing halt…. I have a sinking feeling I don’t have as much time to get ready as I had previously believed…. so, I’d best get to it…. I suggest you think seriously about following my lead on this. We may not have a lot of time left….. if this is any indication, very little at all…..
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“I like Wagner’s music better than any other music. It is so loud that one can talk the whole time without people hearing what one says. That is a great advantage.” — Oscar Wilde

It’s been quite a while since these pages were blessed by a visit from Oscar; he is, and shall ever be, one of my favorite historical and literary figures, not only for the wit and charm of the verse in which he spoke, and wrote, but for the very picture of Life he painted with his every act. It was a picture of defiant genius, of incredible beauty and charm, a picture of towering intellect faced by the mundane restrictions of a repressed society. He was a man of the Twenty-first century as far as his ideas and his outlook, trapped and miserable in the Nineteenth century, completely misunderstood by all but those who flocked around him, ever anxious for any part of his charm and attention.

On this subject, i.e., opera, I have to side with Oscar. I love music, and just about all types. There are few genres that I don’t particularly care for, but the one I care for the least is opera. Strange actually, because I love classical music very much, and find the human voice to be perhaps the most compelling instrument mankind has ever produced. But, most of what I’ve heard in the operatic genre produces in me the same sort of reaction described here by Mssr. Wilde.

I have listened to a lot of it; I try to be fair before forming an opinion. But the majority of what I’ve heard was obscure, complicated beyond necessity, and in general, enough to induce sleep in a bipolar roadrunner in his manic phase, or, alternately, more than enough to keep one awake when we desperately want to be asleep…..

Oh, even opera has its high points. The aria that played in the movie “The Shawshank Redemption”, when the hero took over the warden’s office, and played it over the loudspeakers, is a stunning piece of music; that voice would raise the dead with such power and beauty. A couple of others come to mind as well, like one of the arias sung by the female lead in Aida.

Mostly, though, it all sounds like what my old pal Noah would sometimes sing when he particularly liked what Tom and I were playing on our guitars (Noah was my dog, for those who haven’t stopped in before; he was very social, and loved to join in whatever was going on….). Enthusiastic, but not particularly gripping, to be nice about it. Sorry, but that’s my opinion, for what it’s worth. As far as I’m concerned, we could lose every opera recording ever made, and I wouldn’t be troubled over it at all, at all…..
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“You’ve got the brain of a four-year-old boy, and I bet he was glad to get rid of it.” — Groucho Marx

Perfect! I have found the exactly right comment to make to my list…. you know, the list. The one we all have….. the one where we put the names of those folks in the public eye who continuously make comments that curl your hair, and cause you to run and make sure your ammo is dry. The folks who, every time they open their mouth to spew, make us wish for a return to the good old days of the Inquisition. The ones who speak out every day and prove the old adage about never opening one’s mouth to provide proof of being a fool.

So, the next time I am confronted with one of these pimples on the face of society, I will have the perfect opening line….. In the spirit of indulgence of whimsy, I will now display the first 6 names on my list of folks the world would do better to fit with a permanent mouth plug….

Ann Coulter (to my mind, no amount of verbal abuse would ever be enough for this one; it would take a lot to balance all the vitriol she has spewed on some quite nice folks…..)
Rush Limbaugh (rapidly losing his grip on reality, which was never very strong….)
Willard ‘Mitt’ Romney (the new spokesperson for Flip-Flops…..)
Pat Robertson (a familiar voice on these pages…)
Michelle Bachman (Minnesota Mickey’s been less prominently featured of late, but continues to amaze with her chutzpah….)
Sara Palin (One word….. weasel…..)

There…. I feel better now, though it was a struggle to confine the list to six names; there are a lot of folks who make a strong case for their inclusion. For now though, I’ll just bask in the glow of thinking how much fun it would be to give one them Groucho’s razor sharp barb…..

“I am treated as evil by those who feel persecuted because they are not allowed to force me to believe as they do.” — Smart Bee
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“Beware the man of one book.” — St. Thomas Aquinas

Possibly one of the most ironic statements ever made, yet the irony of it is never a subject of discussion. I can understand why those of a dogmatic nature would be leery of examining such an already, in their eyes, controversial sentiment, as it puts the lie to their entire system of belief. But one would think that those not as severely hampered in their thinking might have noted the irony, and wondered about it enough to say so aloud. But, I can’t think of a single instance of this; though I cannot claim perfect knowledge of religious philosophical works, I have read pretty widely, and have never come across anything that hinted at such a novel idea.

Where is the irony, you ask? Well, to me, it’s pretty clear…. here is a statement that warns against those who would place all of their faith and trust into what is included in only one source. But, the statement is made BY a man who was a high-ranking member of the church of his time (well, they did canonize him…). And the church of which he was such a valued member is the same one that puts the Bible on a pedestal as the only book Mankind needs, or should want, to provide the answers to all of their questions.

In short, St. Thomas was blaspheming the choir, rather than preaching to it. Sometimes I’m surprised that the Pope of the time of St. Thomas didn’t de-canonize the lad for his arrogance. Kind of gives one a clue as to what God wants, doesn’t it? If that is your thing…. Me, I’m going to go read a book….
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“All art is autobiographical. The pearl is the oyster’s autobiography.” — Federico Fellini

Whew! I guess that settles the question in everyone’s mind as to whether or not this process of creating the Pearls of Virtual Wisdom, that we engage in every day here at gigoid’s blog, can be called Art. Or even art. Sr. Fellini can, I think, be considered as enough of an artist to warrant an opinion, and according to him, this is art, if not Art. So, I guess that makes me an autobiographer, in a weird sort of way…. hmm. Well, it’s not what I had thought I’d be, but I guess it will do….. I have to say, it is nice to know that my efforts here are, if nothing else, not a complete affront to the sensibilities of the Muses…. I can always offer them pearls……
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GASP! I have reached the ostensible final segment of today’s offering, and just noticed there is no poetry! Can’t have that…..

All I know of Love
is that Love is all there is.
–Emily Dickinson

There… I feel better now. I’d have hated to start the day with a gaffe like that. But, it worked out well, as Emily is a fitting close to any day’s work. It’s Friday the 13th out there, and it’s always a good day for us Scorpios, so I’m going to go do something unusual today… I’m going out of town for a while to visit a friend.

I’ve been stuck here in my house for about oh, five months or so, and I’m looking forward to surrounding myself with some different colored walls for a time….. plus, my friend and I will no doubt take some time to play some music, so it will be a day of sheer pleasure for me…. music, change of scene, and clean laundry, all in one shot. A good day in the neighborhood, to be sure…..  Y’all take care out there…..

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

gigoid

Kowabunga!

Side effects of eloquence, no charge….

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19

Ffolkes,
SIGH….. I know…. one look at the big sigh, and you’re all, “So, what’s his problem?”  Typical…. just kidding. No, the sigh was for real, actually. It was in reaction to a thought I often have at this moment, a thought that can determine the entire day’s direction. Of course, while I was typing, that thought went completely away, and now I’m stuck in the middle of this paragraph with no subject matter, which is about par for my course this early in the morning. How, you are asking, will he ever pull himself out of this one? Well, I’ll tell you, he has no frigging idea at this point. He’s trying hard not to panic, but I’m afraid his effort isn’t getting very far, because he’s about to FREAK OUT!  Shit! Damn it! Now I’m pissed… hold on, be right back….

As you can see, he did. Freak out, that is. So badly, he was forced to take a break, and asked me to sit in for a moment while he pulls himself together. Who, you are asking, are you? Well, you see, I can’t tell you that, or I’d have to kill you, and we don’t want to leave our readers laying about the premises all dead, now, do we? No, we don’t. So, just take your curiosity and shove it quietly back into your back pocket, and we’ll just forget you asked, okay? Better for everyone that way…… that’s better…..

Oh, look, he’s back! It’s been fun, y’all…… ta then!  

Who the hell was that? What? No, I didn’t ask him to sit in, did he say I did? Why, that asshole! No, I have no idea who that might have been; I just had to go wipe up the mess I made when I freaked, and when I come back, there’s stuff all over the screen. Gad! It’s getting so you can’t even trust your own hallucinations!

Fuck this, let’s go Pearl, okay? I gotta get outta here for a while….. C’mon, follow me, I know a shortcut…..
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“[Spirituality is] being able to see anything in a context. If you’re stuck in something that you’re trying to do, you step back and say, “What is this about?” Put it in a larger context. This is what the Gestalt psychiatrists call “insight.” It’s what other psychiatrists call “reframing.” It’s the ability to do this, rather than being stuck in a particular pattern like a computer. This kind of thinking is always in the back of science — theories are provisional. If they don’t work, one steps back and takes another look at them.” — Ian Marshall, Salon 2/18/00

A voice of reason speaks! Of course, there is little hope that anyone is, or will be, listening. First attributed twelve years ago, this statement seems a balanced response to any questions or arguments one might have in the discussions (if such they may be called) that swirl and eddy around the subject of creationism vs. evolution. It accurately points out the mind-set, the attitude, as it were, that one needs to approach any question of science, or philosophy, or religion, or any other subject, that is essential to finding any viable answers to the inquiry. Any picture needs to be beheld in the proper perspective, in order to fully see the characteristics of which it is comprised; when viewed from a different perspective, the picture changes, and may no longer be an accurate representation of what is real, thus altering how we can deal with it.

The seeking of this perspective is a quality of inquiry that is too often overlooked by the proponents of creationism. The view of events and purported evidence that support their position does not yield itself well to such examination; the evidence upon which they are basing their belief shifts about, or disappears entirely if viewed from any viewpoint other than the one from which it is presented. This is due for the most part to the inability of these proponents to verify the evidence by independent means, or by reproducing the evidence anew in another experiment. They can’t do that, because the evidence has no real existence in reality, but is rather based on assumptions that cannot be verified. Generally, pointing this out tends to provoke a certain apoplexy in them, and it’s best at that point to leave them to their own devices, so as not to annoy them further by intruding upon their fantasy with your reality……

“If a little knowledge is dangerous, where is the man who has so much as to be out of danger?” — Thomas Henry Huxley
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ABSENCE
We’ve looked at the whole Solar System:
Mars, Venus, the Moon – you can list ’em.
Wherever we roam,
There’s nobody home.
Perhaps they stepped out, and we missed ’em?

Well, perhaps it isn’t exactly on a par with say, Keats, or Yeats, or Emily D, but I like it…. it speaks to the Bozo in me, as well as to the scientist, and the romantic. Not bad for a simple limerick, eh?

Now you can see why school was never really much of a difficult academic challenge for me, but rather a complex social challenge. Facts, philosophy, language, math, science, I could handle all that just fine, as my grades indicated so well. But, throw me into the mix at a dance, and I was mostly clueless, though not completely, coming from a large family. Having sisters did keep me from the worst social gaffes; but sisters aren’t known for their support and encouragement of younger brothers. In fact, one might say that ridicule and laughter are their preferred methods of emotional interaction with them. But, they didn’t want me embarrassing them in front of their friends, so a minimal amount of helpful information was given (with appropriate physical reinforcement) in that vein….

I also had the educationally neutral, yet socially advantageous status as an athlete, eventually earning varsity letters in three sports, for three years out of four. The before and after game activities were my primary social proving ground, my laboratory, so to speak; needless to say, it took me a long time to really learn anything substantially accurate regarding human interaction on more than a superficial level. In short, I was an engineer, in spirit, if not in actual practice…. pathetically naive about relationships, and women, in both the general, and the specific senses.

Then, I went to Berkeley…. I don’t think I need to say that my education, and even enlightenment in some cases, in social issues of every type, personal, political, relational, general, and specific, assumed a much larger importance, a much larger portion of my time and attention. Simply put, it blew what passed for my mind into tiny pieces of shattered illusions (to use the charming vernacular of the time….).

I’d guesstimate that 95% of what I had believed or thought I knew about most everything to do with society, and how people interact with one another, was either out-of-step, untrue, unreliable, or simply made up nonsense, that seemed to have no real purpose other than to allow some folks to manipulate others with more facility. Let me tell you, that first year away from home was an eye-opener, for sure and for certain….. and I thank my younger self almost daily for deciding on Berkeley the moment I first saw the campus, riding with my Dad in a tiny little Renault compact in 1967…. It was the only college I applied to, or wanted to go to…. and, fortunately for my mind/self, I did….
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“If you wish to make a man your enemy, tell him simply, You are wrong. This method works every time.” — Henry C. Link

This statement is another of those that I almost passed on, thinking it was too obvious a point to make for good discussion. But, as is often the case when I think that at first, a second look at the idea stimulated further thought….

For example, the question occurs to me to ask, “Well, if this is so, what is there in men that makes them so easy to manipulate like this?”  For that is what it is, a simple manipulation. Such a statement as  “you are wrong”, when uttered with confidence and surety,  doesn’t even have to be true; the mere fact that you have said it will activate most men’s towering ego, which, automatically it seems, refuses to believe that it CAN be wrong, much less accept being told so by anyone at all……

Generally, there is no need to even offer any proof of such an assertion. The ego of most who seek argument will blow right past that key step in finding truth, and head right on into outraged anger at the one who would be so rude as to question them. Actually, watching some folks go through the mental steps to this outrage can be pretty entertaining, especially when they turn all those colors in their faces as their anger grows, and they become increasingly apoplectic in response…. fascinating shades the human skin displays when aroused!…..

Of course, once made, you usually have an enemy for life, so it is often wise to withhold such applications of control over others. Allowing oneself to indulge in this sort of manipulation, while satisfying and amusing in the short run, often leads to later regrets, at having to deal with the consequences repeatedly over time (most folks have a long memory for being told they are wrong; they never forget, and they never forgive…. one would think they had nothing better to do…..)

This is another lesson to be learned in these interactions, that compassion for ignorance is not always misplaced, rare as it may be to find an ignoramus deserving of it. For myself, I find it hard to be compassionate when the other person chooses to be ignorant; whether due to fear of the unknown, faith-based denial of reality, or simple laziness, it all tends to piss me off, and I’m not shy about sharing that with them.

But, for those whose lack of understanding comes from an inherent inability to comprehend the necessary information, I am willing to show some tolerance, and make the attempt to educate them….. they can’t help using the deck of cards they have, even if it is missing a jack and half of the queens……

“Anybody who wants religion is welcome to it, as far as I’m concerned — I support your right to enjoy it.  However, I would appreciate it if you exhibited more respect for the rights of those people who do not wish to share your dogma, rapture or necrodestination.” — Frank Zappa, “The Real Frank Zappa Book”

“A little Consideration, a little Thought for Others, makes all the difference.” — Pooh’s Little Instruction Book, inspired by A. A. Milne
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“[The Equal Rights Amendment] is about a socialist, anti-family political movement that encourages women to leave their husbands, kill their children, practice witchcraft, destroy capitalism and become lesbians.” — Pat Robertson

🙂    So, where would you like me to begin with this? ….. Take your time…..  I know, hard to pick, isn’t it?  A few days ago, I found and included here another of Pat’s verbal miscues. That one was amusing mostly because it was so obviously his own natural stupidity that overcame his media chops, turning his attempt at deep philosophy into a soliloquy that Geraldo Rivera would have rejected. It wasn’t even necessary there to even point out what was wrong about it; sheer nonsense needs no explanation.

But this statement is another kettle of old stinky fish altogether. This one reaches for the heights; it seeks to climb the highest peak of human stupidity, and seriously would like to drag all of us along with him, into that clear air, free of any distracting truths. The sheer, complete refusal to even glance in the direction of Reality that this indicates in the speaker is, to me, absolutely astounding. I have watched with resignation and chagrin as the world has, step by step, little by little, “dumbed down”; the percentage of public acts that approach the ludicrous grows larger every day, hastened by the unstoppable march of population growth.

The mathematics of demographics leaves no room for argument with the FACT that average human intelligence decreases as the population increases; it is a proven equation, and not arguable in the slightest. The numbers simply cannot lie. Society is getting dumber. Deal with it…..

And prepare yourselves, as such egregiously insane and ignorant statements as this will no doubt become more frequent, as the number of folks who haven’t a clue, or a care, as to what may or may not be real, grows beyond all expectations, keeping the rest of us busy cleaning up the messes they make. Oh well, it will give us something to do until the inevitable result of such a trend takes effect, at which point the planet will be able to get back to normal, without the infestation of self-destructive mammalians all over the available surface space….
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`Just the place for a Snark!’ the Bellman cried,
As he landed his crew with care;
Supporting each man on the top of the tide
By a finger entwined in his hair.

‘Just the place for a Snark!  I have said it twice:
That alone should encourage the crew.
Just the place for a Snark!  I have said it thrice:
What I tell you three times is true.’

Is there anyone who doesn’t know who wrote this? Or hasn’t heard of he Snark and the Boojum? If so, I pity them, and wish they could have more fantasy in their lives, for they obviously have not had enough thus far, if these names ring no bells for them, and bring no smiles of fond remembrance of childhood days, reading or listening to tales of Wonderland.  Every child needs to experience times of joy in dreams, and flights of unfettered imagination, for without it, they are ill prepared to face reality with any hope of success.

gigoid has spoken….. so be it….
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Any more signs of that asshole that jumped in here at the intro? Good….. I guess I’m going to have to put a password protection on my keyboard for those times I have to leave it unattended suddenly. Of course, since he was most likely a figment out of my own imagination, he could probably find the password in my mind anyway, so that won’t work…. hmm. I’ll have to think about this…. I don’t want to up my meds enough to completely eliminate such hallucinations; sometimes they’re the only company I have for days and days… but, I also can’t have them usurping this blog; it’s counter-productive at minimum, and probably not a completely healthy situation, at least not for me. Can’t say how it affects them…. I never ask, I never tell….

Now that I have thoroughly convinced you of my complete and utter insanity, I can move on to bigger things…… and, as I’m sure you will agree, it’s about damn time….. Y’all take care out there…..

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

gigoid

Kowabunga!

Petite lint balls won’t delay the vote…..

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15

Ffolkes,
Preternatural voices careen down the corridor, washing away silence in a cacophony of unadulterated terror, stinging, grasping, bleeding into unheard but deeply penetrating undertones, perilous and weighted with fear. But the walls stand mute, and unafraid. Thus, balance is maintained, and time begins again….

Just as if it had never happened at all, he continued to type, completely unaware that he was still in the grip of the night, and could no more cease to type than he could cease to breathe. Abused by the muse, he succumbs, and swearing to repent, he is allowed to arise, and drink coffee, thus saving his life, and the day….

I don’t know what to say to that, surprising as that may be. I often let myself flow when writing, particularly phantasmagoria such as the first short paragraph. But this sort of got away from me, and I feel a bit used. I think, though I can’t be sure, that my muse did some rather uncivilized things to me last night in my sleep; why else would I feel so cheap before I’ve even had time to entertain any immoral thoughts, or kicked any puppies? I’m thinking at this point, my best hope is to turn to an old technique, one we all use from time to time…. sheer, stubborn denial.

Yeah, that’s the ticket…. no worries! It’s all good now. Hmm? I don’t know what you’re talking about. What you are asking makes no sense, because none of that ever happened. So, let’s not argue, eh? Let’s just get on with what we’re all here for… a healthy serving of oyster gems…… shall we Pearl, then?
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“I can wear my shirts as pants.” — Smart Bee

That’s it. “I can wear my shirts as pants.”  That is the best I’ve come up with so far. For a solid 45 minutes, I have been diligently reading potential pearls, and this is the one that made the grade. I must point out that it only did so because I was so frustrated, this line assumed a much larger significance to my fevered brain, so much so it forced its way onto the page. Pathetic, isn’t it? Today’s process is FUBAR, so far, but we must push on, or, or,….. or I’ll spit!

Well, THAT threat will certainly send my muse into gales of hysterical laughter…. and I wouldn’t blame her a bit. I’m feeling a bit hysterical myself at this point, totally uncertain as to how to deal with this unprecedented state of affairs. Smart Bee has never been this reluctant to dredge up at least a couple of shiny gems, even if it is only out of pity at times. Today, no mercy….. and no inspiration, either….

It is clear that extraordinary methods will have to be applied…. or at least, threatened. Nothing short of taking away her beer allowance ever works, so I’m going straight for the jugular here…. no more Tres Equis until the filter is removed from Smart Bee, and a suitable group of pearls has been harvested. No Tres Equis, and no Bug Lite, either…. That’s the final word, and no more argument will be tolerated. If that doesn’t do the trick, then I’ll be online this afternoon, looking for a deal on a new muse, because this one will be out the door and gone…. I’m done fooling around. If I don’t get this done in a timely fashion, there WILL be changes in personnel made around here, and she can take that to the beer bank!

I am now drawing my shirt up over my legs, buttoning up, tying the tie I’m using as a belt, and will now proceed to search out a gorgeous, shiny new pearl, which I fully expect to be waiting for me when I arrive at the oyster beds…… last warning…..
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“One can imagine a sane, healthy, cheerful human society based on no more than the principles of common sense, as validated each day by work, play, and living experience. But this remains the most Utopian and fantastic of ideals.” — Edward Abbey

I almost skipped over this, because it seems so obvious. But, then I paused, and thought about it a moment, and it occurred to me to ask myself, “Why?” (I know, a generally futile question when applied to reality, but, hey, today is denial day, so, onward…..) Why should such a concept be so easily dismissed as a worthy goal? What keeps us from becoming a society based on reason and compassion, rather than its current format of a culture of avarice and ambition? Answers to these questions are always given with a smirk, a wink, and a knowing look between those that comprise the beloved ruling class that our society has allowed to shape its destiny.

They are smug, and confident, that the great masses of people in society will never ask these questions, knowing they will never receive an answer that provides any real hope of change. The folks who make up the bulk of society long ago gave away their will; they see no hope of change for the better, and have not the energy to make any attempt to make those changes themselves, being too busy trying to survive in a world that doesn’t care at all about their suffering. They meekly accept the indignities that modern life forces them to endure, silently grieving over their once-precious dreams, and hoping only that things will not get worse.

No, the dream of Utopia is dead in the modern world. There is too much evidence that those who seek and gain power over others in this world have already attained their goals. Nothing is going to change if they can help it, and they have had a strangle-hold on the rest of us for a couple thousand years, a hold that gives them perfect confidence that they can do as they wish, and no one is going to do anything about it at all, at all…..  Scary, isn’t it?….. And, all too real……

This has been a moment of Truth, brought to you by gigoid….. for all the good it will do…… it’s the thought that counts, right?

“And sometimes the bear eats you.”– Smart Bee
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ART, n.  This word has no definition.  Its origin is related as follows by the ingenious Father Gassalasca Jape, S.J.

One day a wag — what would the wretch be at? —
Shifted a letter of the cipher RAT,
And said it was a god’s name!  Straight arose
Fantastic priests and postulates (with shows,
And mysteries, and mummeries, and hymns,
And disputations dire that lamed their limbs)
To serve his temple and maintain the fires,
Expound the law, manipulate the wires.
Amazed, the populace that rites attend,
Believe whate’er they cannot comprehend,
And, only edified to learn that two
Half-hairs joined so and so (as Art can do)
Have sweeter values and a grace more fit
Than Nature’s hairs that never have been split,
Bring cakes and wines for sacrificial feasts,
And sell their garments to support the priests.

— Ambrose Bierce, “The Devil’s Dictionary”

I’m getting a picture in my head, of Madonna, standing on stage with Dr. Phil, Andy Warhol, Yoko Ono, and the entire cast of “Borat Sees America”. You know, those folks who are currently the icons of Artists, the avant garde, as it were…. whatever that means. (Oops, sorry, forgot. Andy Warhol passed on. You may exclude him from further inclusion in this discussion…) (Not because I respect him or his art, but he’s no longer around to defend himself, so, just being fair….)  I’m not going to go on too long about this, I just wanted folks to think about the stuff that passes for Art these days, and how it says certain things about the state of society.

“Art has an obligation to offend.” — Edward Albee

This attitude may be a large part of the problem. It is, in reality, an observation that is true, but not exclusively true. But the media, and too many otherwise mediocre singers, painters, writers, etc. take it to be the defining characteristic of what is meant by “good” Art. Sort of like assuming the Big Mac to be the highest form of culinary expression, the ultimate meal for the modern world. Forget elegance, or subtlety, or beauty; to these morons truth is ugly and mean…. hence, we have folks like Justin Bieber atop the charts, and movies like “American Reunion” pulling in millions of dollars in a matter of days. It may be a word I’ve over-used of late, but to me it’s pretty pathetic….

Truths would you teach, or save a sinking land?
All fear, none aid you, and few understand.
— Alexander Pope (1688-1744) — Essay on Man, Epistle iv, Line 261

In my opinion, a lot of the poetry, prose, painting, and graphic art that I see right here on WordPress is far superior to anything I’ve seen in a museum of modern art in a very long time. (That doesn’t include museum displays of the art of ancient Egypt, or European Masters of the Renaissance, or others of that ilk…. that is a different story altogether….)  Art is a reflection of the soul of society, and a lot of the reflections I see on public display are….. just plain ugly, and full of despair……  think about it, that’s all…..

E’en from the tomb the voice of nature cries,
E’en in our ashes live their wonted fires.
— Thomas Gray (1716-1771) — Elegy in a Country Churchyard, Stanza 23

I hate to mention things like this in this feature, but it is one of the more pressing problems in America today, and that is the lack of tap-dancers in the Miss America contest. — Smart Bee (On the strength of the mere existence of this phrase, that it can even be uttered in jest, I rest my case…..)
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DAMN, v.  A word formerly much used by the Paphlagonians, the meaning of which is lost.  By the learned Dr. Dolabelly Gak it is believed to have been a term of satisfaction, implying the highest possible degree of mental tranquility.  Professor Groke, on the contrary, thinks it expressed an emotion of tumultuous delight, because it so frequently occurs in combination with the word _jod_ or _god_, meaning “joy.”  It would be with great diffidence that I should advance an opinion conflicting with that of either of these formidable authorities. — Ambrose Bierce, “The Devil’s Dictionary”

Delightful! Such eloquent nonsense! It needs no embellishment, and will receive none here. It is here only to tickle my sense of whimsy, which strikes at odd moments, but is always welcome….. just enjoy it, and move on, with a little smile gracing your face….
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The bustle in a house
The morning after death
Is solemnest of industries
Enacted upon earth,
The sweeping up the heart,
And putting love away
We shall not want to use again
Until eternity.
— Emily Dickinson

At last! At last, a fitting pearl with which to end this marathon. Finding this particularly shiny, perfectly formed pearl from Ms. Emily has made my entire morning! Such power, such beauty, such insight, such masked pain, and such hope, all condensed into the simplest, most compelling grouping of words one can imagine.  Serendipity has indeed rewarded my perseverance and discipline this morning, throwing this into my path as a parting gift. It puts the perfect cap on the discussion above re: modern Art, providing a counterpoint to the examples of Art we are daily bombarded with in the media circus of modern life. Bonus!….. and the perfect ending point…..
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The best laid schemes o’ mice and men
Gang aft a-gley;
And leave us naught but grief and pain
For promised joy.
— Robert Burns, To a Mouse

I would like you all to know that this is a record breaking Pearl of Virtual Wisdom. It has required my utmost effort for almost four  hours to show the discipline to bring it to a (somewhat) successful conclusion. It has taken me an inordinate amount of time to not only find the material about which to write, but to pound and slice and trim that material into usable shapes. I am tempted to use the word Herculean to describe that effort, but Herc might be a bit out of my league. Let’s just say that I put everything I’ve got into this one, and will no doubt need a transfusion later today, once these veins have closed up sufficiently to make it practical.

Hard as it has been to get this done, I now find myself reluctant to stop. Don’t worry, I will, that wasn’t meant as a threat, so calm down. But, I sort of feel like the Jack-in-the-Box clown when the spring is starting to wind down, and there are a couple of turns left. I guess I’ll use them to go fix some breakfast, to replace some of this energy I’ve expended so far today. You’re welcome to join me, if you wish. But, it’s time to get on with it, so adieu for the nonce….. Y’all take care out there…..

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

gigoid

Kowabunga!

Drizzled with mere seconds to spare….

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Ffolkes,
Far be it from me to ever put a roadblock up in front of my creative process; with the emotional pressure I put on myself to write, I’d be a basket case in hours if I did something so foolish. In me, the process is not a well-defined, step-by-step process, though I do have my rituals. Instead of being a walk with a dog on a leash, that politely stays on the path, and doesn’t chase cars, it is more of a romp with a dog in a dog park, off the leash, with both of us free to run and play. For me, it has always been more productive that way. So, it makes no sense at all for me to obstruct the process in myself, as it is a key element in my continued sanity…..

Once again, here I am, sitting here wondering who wrote that shit…. oh, it was me, and it’s all true, more or less. But, it isn’t anything like what I envisioned writing when I sat down to begin. As a matter of fact, the first five words were meant to push me off into one of my fantasy story openings, complete with witches, goats, three chandeliers, a devil, an angel, and a Peking Duck without sauce. Instead, I find myself at the end of a tidy little discussion that would most likely bore an accountant in tax season to desperate tears. (Aha, that reminds me…. do taxes!)  I can’t imagine what came over me; I seem to have misplaced my sense of whimsy, and can already see the ill effects of its absence…..

Ah well, the workaround for this particular problem is pretty straightforward…. ignore it and move on. That part of me that writes the boring stuff is easily miffed by such inattention, and will promptly stomp off in high dudgeon to find a quiet corner in which to sulk. So, we will now embark on our morning search for Pearls…. shall we begin?…. Aha, a fine specimen, practically jumped into the bag… we’ll give it primary billing, with no needed discussion….

“I notice that you use plain, simple language, short words and brief sentences. That is the way to write English — it is the modern way and the best way. Stick to it; don’t let fluff and flowers and verbosity creep in. When you catch an adjective, kill it. No, I don’t mean utterly, but kill most of them — then the rest will be valuable. They weaken when they are close together. They give strength when they are wide apart. An adjective habit, or a wordy, diffuse, flowery habit, once fastened upon a person, is as hard to get rid of as any other vice.” — Mark Twain

Good advice… let’s see how close we can come to following it….. Kowabunga!
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:Shub-Internet: /shuhb’ in’t*r-net/ n.  [MUD: from H. P. Lovecraft’s evil fictional deity Shub-Niggurath, the Black Goat with a Thousand Young] The harsh personification of the Internet: Beast of a Thousand Processes, Eater of Characters, Avatar of Line Noise, and Imp of Call Waiting; the hideous multi-tendriled entity formed of all the manifold connections of the net.  A sect of MUDders worships Shub-Internet, sacrificing objects and praying for good connections. To no avail — its purpose is malign and evil, and is the cause of all network slowdown.  Often heard as in “Freela casts a tac nuke at Shub-Internet for slowing her down.”  (A forged response often follows along the lines of: “Shub-Internet gulps down the tac nuke and burps happily.”)  Also cursed by users of the Web, {FTP} and {TELNET} when the system slows down. The dread name of Shub-Internet is seldom spoken aloud, as it is said that repeating it three times will cause the being
to wake, deep within its lair beneath the Pentagon.  Compare {Random Number God}. — from The on-line Hacker Jargon File V423

Every culture, and every sub-culture within that body, of which hacker culture is not an exception, spawns its own myths. These myths and legends are consistent with the principles of morality and beliefs that infuse the various elements in the group, composed of that culture’s deepest fears of the true unknown nature of the technology they employ. In hacker culture, their gods and demons take the shape and character of the antithesis of the wizards and demi-gods they admire, for their mastery of the nuances of the field of knowledge in which they all play and live; these unfortunate deities generally resemble the CEO of the company where they toil for pay.

I find hacker culture and mythology fascinating, as it is often based on concepts and ideas from science- and speculative-fiction, and fantasy, all blended together into such creatively conceived entities as Shub-Internet…. a creature both terrifying and playful….. Kind of like Lord Voldemort on laughing gas, but uglier, if you can picture that…. The highest form of humor to a hacker would be for Curly Joe to catch the Wolfman or Dracula with the old exploding cigar gag, in a movie where Curly is a programmer and Dracula is a management suit….. all after an elegant hack that saved the world, and the company, from evil bureaucrats from the Fast Food Dimension…..
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“Even for a wizard there will often come times when someone close to you, perhaps even your spouse, criticizes your habits by comparing them to those of animals. This is distinctly unfair to the animals, who have far better habits than we in many areas. When, for example, have you seen a frog collecting taxes or a squirrel running for electoral office? Present arguments like these to those people who criticize you. If they still do not see the wisdom of your ways, you may then feel free to bite them.” — The Teachings of Ebenezum, Vol. IX

Now, this is a philosophical attitude I can really get behind. I cannot begin to count how many conversations just like this I have had over the course of my life, with those who don’t like, or more often, and more accurately, don’t understand me or what I say and do.  While I’ve been either fortunate enough, or nice enough to not have run across a great many folks who are actively upset by my admittedly unusual mannerisms and expressions, there have been many who, because of their own dissatisfaction with their own lives, find it hard to keep their noses out of mine, or anyone else’s for that matter….. A lot of them wear badges, or work in government bureaucracies, and are just smart enough to realize how badly they have screwed up their own lives, so they try to make themselves feel better by criticizing whatever other folks are up to….. it’s pathetic, really…. and well worth the hullabaloo that ensues after administering the evidence of our displeasure….
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But Knowledge to their eyes her ample page,
Rich with the spoils of time, did ne’er unroll;
Chill penury repress’d their noble rage,
And froze the genial current of the soul.
— Thomas Gray (1716-1771) — Elegy in a Country Churchyard, Stanza 13

It isn’t often that ignorance is made so plain, nor the exact feel of it so well portrayed as in this little gem……

To each his suff’rings; all are men,
Condemn’d alike to groan,–
The tender for another’s pain,
Th’ unfeeling for his own.
Yet ah! why should they know their fate,
Since sorrow never comes too late,
And happiness too swiftly flies?
Thought would destroy their paradise.
No more; where ignorance is bliss,
‘T is folly to be wise.
— Thomas Gray (1716-1771) — On a Distant Prospect of Eton College, Stanza 10

Life is so simple when you don’t know what you’re talking about. — Smart Bee  (Isn’t that what Bush Jr., the Shrub, had printed around the edges of the national seal while he was in office? I think it was….or should have been…. I know it was printed on his cards….)
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What can I say? I’m a sucker for puppies…. found this on Facebook a few days ago, and just love it!….

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No man is an island, but then no man is a potato salad, either. — Smart Bee

I haven’t lost my mind, I know exactly where I left it. — Smart Bee

Since it is obvious by now that trying to be serious today just isn’t going to happen without a struggle, I am bowing to the forces at work, and giving up on any discussion of any compelling issues.  We’ll just fill in with some pertinent observations, such as exemplified by those little gems above this blurb…..

“Reality is a crutch for people who can’t cope with drugs.” — Lily Tomlin

I wasn’t picking my nose…I was scratching.

iT’s HArD tO tYPe WHilE HolDiNG a cAT…

Puns are bad, but poetry is verse.

“You can’t help respecting anybody who can spell TUESDAY, even if he doesn’t spell it right; but spelling isn’t everything. There are days when spelling Tuesday simply doesn’t count.” — A.A. Milne

A billion seconds ago Harry Truman was president.
A billion minutes ago was just after the time of Christ.
A billion hours ago man had not yet walked on earth.
A billion dollars ago was late yesterday at the U.S. Treasury…
— According to a recent government publication … (I know, not funny… sad and pathetically true…. but interesting….)

“How often we recall, with regret, that Napoleon once shot at a magazine editor and missed him and killed a publisher. But we remember with charity, that his intentions were good.” — Mark Twain

Okay, okay, settle down! I can hear you whimpering in pain, no need to shout…. I’m done now, so you can take a moment to go lick your wounds in private….. see you below in a few minutes…..
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A long, strange trip indeed….. I’m kind of glad it’s over, and we can get on with the rest of the day. The chances of it being better than it has thus far been willing to allow will no doubt increase the further from Now we get…. well, I AM and optimist at heart…. perhaps it would be best to just stick to the usual approach, expecting nothing, and enjoying the actual results, whatever they may be….. what with the rather capricious events that have thus far been our lot, that is probably for the best….. Y’all take care out there….

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

gigoid

Kowabunga!


Three Blind Mice, er, Mighty Nice Awards

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Fate…. one never knows when it will rear its head and make itself known… In the past few weeks, my blog has grown dramatically in followers, and as a result, my email exploded. It has taken me until today, the 8th, to get to the point where I could get to this post, one I wanted to do right, to pay honor for the honors for which I’ve been nominated.

In short, three very lovely poetesses all nominated me for a different award. I’ll take them in order, and try to get the rules right….. but first, the fate… though none of the three women are Celtic, the trio consists of a group that mirrors the most powerful symbol of womanhood, the triple spiral representing maid, mother, and crone, the wise women of legend in the ancient culture of Eire and Britain.

I am by ancestry a large percentage of Celt, and feel very humbled that these three women, one not yet twenty, whose mind is a pleasure to watch bloom, one poetess of great power and passion, in the prime of her years, raising two children, and a grandmother, with a heart full of life and romance, have all seen fit to include me in their list of nominees for these awards. In the order I received notice, they are…..

First, at greatpoetrymhf.com, our very beautiful crone writes of love, and family, and a life well-lived in very skilled verse, with always gorgeous pictures to enhance the feel of her writing. She received, and deservedly, the Versatile Blogger Award, and I thank her very much for passing the nomination to me among the others in her list….. the link to her home page is….

http://greatpoetrymhf.wordpress.com/

Here are 7 things about me you didn’t know….

 

1) I’m afraid of heights…. I can almost swoon if a picture hits my eye wrong…. and driving in SF? Not any more…

2) I have a son, a daughter, and a grandson, all of whom are the source of my greatest pride and love in this world….

 

3) I am a certified chef d’cuisine, with a degree in culinary arts, a gourmand and oenophile, and my favorite meal is a really good chili dog smothered in onions and cheese, with a crisp, cold beer and some beauxdacious soft, fresh, french bread to sop up the chili…

 

4) I consider dogs, cats, horses, cows, deer, tigers, and just about any other animal on earth to be a) morally superior to all but 0.0000000001% of humanity (if you do the math, that works out to about 10 people), and b) much better company than the same group…..

 

5) I am a closet Nora Roberts junkie…. I’ve read about 85% of her books…

 

6) I was crushed when I realized I would never be an astronaut…. but I haven’t given up on going into space at least once before I die….

 

7) I consider myself to be the luckiest man alive for having been raised by my father, Robert H. Moore… he was the most honest, faithful, loving man I have ever known, and remains my inspiration to emulate the same honesty, and to be the most steadfast father and man I can be, to honor his memory…..

 

Here are 15 nominees I think deserve this Versatile Blogger Award….

 

http://cribbings.wordpress.com/

http://subtlekate.wordpress.com/

 

http://ressurrection.wordpress.com/

 

http://elliebloo.com/

 

http://cowgirliz.wordpress.com/

 

http://eyesofodysseus.wordpress.com/

 

http://carolwelsh.wordpress.com/

 

http://amazinglybeautifullife.wordpress.com/

 

http://sweatlikemambo.com/

 

http://niltsi.com/

 

http://christiepepper.com/

 

http://onetimepad.wordpress.com/

 

http://patcegan.wordpress.com/

 

http://unclothedsoul.wordpress.com/

 

http://fivereflections.wordpress.com/

 

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The second award nomination I received was from Saffa Tasneem, who goes by The Dainty Damsel. She is a recent high school graduate from East India, who very deservedly received a Sunshine Award. She too is a lovely young woman, rapidly becoming adept at poetry and prose alike, as well as a burgeoning photographer with a good eye for composition. Her blog is at…

 

http://thedaintydamsel.wordpress.com/

Here are the 10 questions Safaa asked me to answer…

 

What is your Favorite color? Mother of Pearl, of course….

 

What is your favorite animal? Tigers….

 

What is your favorite non-alcoholic drink? Strong coffee…

 

Do you prefer Facebook or Twitter? I am reluctant to use either, but FB seems more personal….

 

What’s your passion? Since I consider myself a polymath, EVERYTHING…..

 

What’s your Favorite pattern? Celtic knots and plaids…

 

Do you prefer giving or getting presents? Giving…

 

What’s your favorite number? 42

 

Favorite day of the week? I’m retired, and only keep track for other folk’s convenience; all the same to me….

 

Favorite flower? Either one you wear on the shirt that squirts water, or a rose….

 

The following are my 10 nominees for the Sunshine Award….

 

http://poemsforkush.com/

 

http://ecofinanalysis.com/

 

http://manipalphotoblog.wordpress.com/

 

http://ericalaganfanclub.wordpress.com/

 

http://buddhakat.wordpress.com/

 

http://onidamerlyn.wordpress.com/

 

http://findingsubjects.com/

 

http://vinakent.com/

 

http://guapola.wordpress.com/

 

http://lesplaisirssimplesdelavie.wordpress.com/

 

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The last nomination I received was from Mari Sanchez Cayuso, who received and passed on to me the 7 X 7 Link Award. She is the perfect representation in my trio of goddesses, of a woman at the peak of her beauty and talent. A mother, an artist, a poetess, a woman who lives more passionately than almost anyone I’ve ever seen, drawing the maximum she can from every waking moment, and turning her perceptions into amazing works of art. Her artistic power leaves me breathless at times, and I am honored she felt I deserved mention…. her home page is at…

 

http://starsrainsunmoon.com/

I am to share 7 more unknown things about me… SIGH… I hate talking about me, at least in this respect, as if I’m special or something…. but, rules is rules, so here goes again….

 

1) For an old, fat fart with flat feet and frequent flatulence, I still get around pretty good on my raggedy old pins….no more jump kicks or basketball, but I can walk downtown with the best of them…. 🙂

 

2) I’m a sucker for puppies and kittens…. but, who isn’t?

 

3) I dislike having to deal with snow at all. Pictures of snow, fine. Fake snow at Christmas time, fine. An occasional dusting on Mount Tamalpais every 10 or so years, fine. But, walk in it, drive in it, ski on it, no thank you…. had my fill when we got stuck for 13 hours in a blizzard, thank you very much….

 

4) I don’t do horror flicks, not even chainsaw stuff, or psychological thrillers… too close to my reality at one time…

 

5) The most evil, horrifying, dangerously damaging children’s cartoon character ever? Barney, no contest. I always hoped that Barney would have run into Oscar the Grouch just once; he would have slunk back under whatever rock he crawled out from after Oscar got done with him…..

 

6) Spock was the MAN! And Leonard Nimoy WAS Spock….

7) Best line from “Pretty Woman”…. Kit, “Ya gotta have a goal, do ya have a goal?” Angel, “Well, I always wanted to be in the Ice Capades…” 🙂

7 links to my favorite of my posts…..

This is tougher than it seems for my blog. In fact, it is next to impossible. I have no idea how to answer this. Each morning, I make up the title for the Daily Pearl, then I write it, email it, and post it to WordPress. But, I don’t keep any record of what material is written under any title, other than in the archives of my blog. So, I haven’t a clue, just by looking at the title, or the date, what will be in the post, or even when I might have written it. The titles never have anything to do with the material in the post; I make them up fresh each day, before I know what I’m writing about…. I just never thought I’d need to go back and point out specific posts… they’re all random to me….

So, to fulfill this rule, just go to my home page, type in any date after ,oh, say, October of 2011 and before today, then go to that post, and navigate in either direction to find a random sampling of my best Pearls. I did change the format in, I believe, January of this year to its current form, so picking after then might show the latest, and best stuff…

I put my best into every one, anyway, so I’d have a hard time picking one over another for that reason as well. Just use the Previous and/or Next buttons, and it will work out fine, since I have posted at least once every day since I started last year…..

Here are my 7 nominees to receive this award….

http://jenniferworrell.wordpress.com/

http://ohmygawdjustdowhatisay.wordpress.com/

http://runningnakedwithscissors.wordpress.com/

http://ladybluerose.wordpress.com/

http://willowdot21.wordpress.com/

http://lindavernon.wordpress.com/

http://talesfromthelou.wordpress.com/

I think I did everything I’m supposed to do, except one last thing, and that is to say once again, thank you very much, to the three beautiful ladies who prompted this post by nominating me…. Y’all take care out there…..

Sometimes I sits and thinks,

and sometimes

I just sits.

gigoid

Kowabunga!

Today only: Tofu Doll Houses….

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Ffolkes,
Curious….. my mind this morning as I sit down to begin is empty again. I could have sworn when I woke up that there were lots of things going around in there, clamoring and pushing to be first to get out. But now that I’m faced with an empty screen, I find a matching empty screen in my mind’s eye, sitting there, staring at me like I’ve got something to put on there…. which, needless to say at this point, I don’t. I can’t say where all the stuff that was around earlier went to; if I did, I’d just go there, and cajole a few random thoughts to come on back with me, or maybe fool one of the weaker thoughts into turning into a comedy routine of some sort.

Since I haven’t a clue where they might be, I’m not sure now just what I should do. I can’t sit here typing stream of consciousness for too long; my stream is looking a bit thin at present. If only there were some way to magically call my thoughts back, like in a Harry Potter movie…. “Accio Inspiration!”  With my luck, Inspiration would be a big rock, which would proceed to smack me upside the head, thus inspiring me to curse mightily before heaving the rock out the window (hopefully, AFTER remembering to open said window….. the landlord gets so testy when I forget….). Like that’ll work….

Well, I suppose it’s back to Plan C…. pick up the axe, start chopping, and let the chips fall where they may. Not necessarily the most scientific or artistic solution, or even the most efficient, but brute force has always served me well…. so I’m going for it. If you’d care to tag along, please feel free, after donning the provided hard hats and goggles, both of which are required by law for all visitors to this site….. Thank you for you cooperation with these regulations…. they are filming us to ensure compliance. (See? Just over there, from that fourth story window across the way….) We hope you enjoy today’s tour through the WWW Ocean of Knowledge, and our search for Pearls of Daily Wisdom…..
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Tho’ lost to sight, to mem’ry dear        / Thou ever wilt remain;
One only hope my heart can cheer,–       / The hope to meet again.
Oh fondly on the past I dwell,            / And oft recall those hours
When, wand’ring down the shady dell,      / We gathered the wild-flowers.
Yes, life then seem’d one pure delight,   / Tho’ now each spot looks drear;
Yet tho’ thy smile be lost to sight,      / To mem’ry thou art dear.
Oft in the tranquil hour of night,        / When stars illume the sky,
I gaze upon each orb of light,            / And wish that thou wert by.
I think upon that happy time,             / That time so fondly lov’d,
When last we heard the sweet bells chime, / As thro’ the fields we rov’d.
Yes, life then seem’d one pure delight,   / Tho’ now each spot looks drear;
Yet tho’ thy smile be lost to sight,      / To mem’ry thou art dear.
— George Linley (1798-1865) — Song

I love these poems! I’ve seen several now, though at least two are probably this one seen twice. I’ve seen another in techspeak, written by some hacker. I know I’ve used this before, but it’s been quite a while, so, the hell with it, I’m using it again. I am just so impressed by the creativity, and perseverance, it must have taken to create these three poems in one, I am compelled to include it again today, in spite of my regular policy against repetition of source material for discussions. To keep the left column consistent as a complete work, then the right column, then the poem created by the two together; this to me is poetic genius, or at minimum, a complete refusal to give up on something until it is right….. fantastic!  Enjoy!…..
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“I don’t think we should punish the criminal [a rapist] by killing his child.” — Dr. John Wilke, President, National Right to Life Committee, — Search for Common Ground, taped for television 4/89, as quoted in “The Far Right, Speaking For Themselves”, a Planned Parenthood pamphlet

When I first read this, I could not believe that this is something that could pass the lips of anyone, anyone at all, without choking the speaker. There are so many wrong things about it, it is difficult to choose a starting point.  My next thought was to wonder how such an ignoramus could remember to breathe without someone there to remind them.  I certainly have serious doubts that this “Doctor” was awarded his degree by any accredited educational institution, in ANY field of scientific inquiry,  though I suppose it could be a Piled High and Deep Doctorate in Divinity, or some such faux degree. Such an example of extreme, deliberate ignorance is certainly not something that anyone with a) any compassion at all, or b) an IQ that exceeds 90, would ever contemplate allowing to come out of their mouth, at least, not without a grin and and a wink to assure the listeners that they were not serious.

After I got past the disbelief, (after all, there is no defined limit to just how stupid people can be… the bar keeps getting raised…..), I had a reaction not dissimilar to the one I get when I contemplate those who traffic in human flesh, i.e., pimps, brothel managers, and other WOS assholes of that ilk. (No, not preachers and priests, though they are certainly to be included in that category, for their active encouragement of the trade)

It is almost comforting to envision myself putting a double tap from a Glock 9mm right between their eyes, thus serving the sentence that Mother Nature herself would set if she were to judge such ignorance…. which she does, but leaves the execution of the sentence to other forces of Nature, such as the righteous anger of the brothers, uncles, and fathers of the abused victims…..
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“It is no great wonder if in long process of time, while fortune takes her course hither and thither, numerous coincidences should spontaneously occur. If the number and variety of subjects to be wrought upon be infinite, it is all the more easy for fortune, with such an abundance of material, to effect this similarity of results.” — Plutarch (46-120 AD) — Life of Sertorius

Infinite monkeys, pecking at typewriters over infinite time, would produce all the works of Shakespeare….. It now seems clear from whom the man who wrote that line obtained the obviously plagiarized concept he employed in its composition. If such it may be called, in light of this thought from Plutarch, a man whose reputation has stood through millennia.

With my complete faith in the power of Google, after writing the above little query into Plutarch’s statement, and in the interests of accuracy (and scratching the itch of curiosity it gave me), I typed the essential phrases into the search box, hit enter, and sat back to await the results, trying to find the current author to whom it is attributed.

Sure thing, the first link was to a comprehensive article on Wikipedia on what is known as the Infinite Monkey Theorem. Little did I know when I first took up this subject that I had blundered into a field of intense and continuous scientific and philosophical inquiry that has been raging among the academic and public sectors of society since the time of Aristotle, who is credited in the article as having been one of the first to propose the basic concept in writing.

In scrolling down the Wikipedia page in a quick scan, I realized what I saw there would be equivalent to 30 or more pages of a book, in a tiny font, mentioning discussions by most of the philosophers of the last two thousand years, including many examples of historical and cultural explorations of the concept. This first glance I took only covered the basic elements of the discussion, which was organized into what seemed to be endless divisions of academic, mathematical, and cultural aspects.

There are several other articles listed as well, some even longer and more detailed, that explore the idea’s mathematics, and the implications of that math. There are entire articles on the cultural aspects of the question, and each article is filled with links to more information, literally thousands of web pages of data. It is, in short, a subject worthy of weeks, or even years of study before any discussion to be held would cover any ground that hasn’t likely been covered previously.

It would take a few weeks of eight hour days just to check if any ideas I had for discussion had occurred already somewhere, or some when, not leaving much time to develop the any possibly new arguments in a fresh way, or even much time to organize any, since their relative newness was as yet undetermined. A challenge of a lifetime, or at least one worthy of a doctoral dissertation…. hmmm, I wonder if some university would accept such an article for a doctorate?

Hell, somebody probably thought of that already, too….. I guess I’ll find another subject for discussion here. This one seems to be a dead end….in spite of the 300 or so words I’ve already spewed.

Damn monkeys anyway! Who asked them to write Shakespeare? Though, as I’ve said before, there is some of his stuff that could use a bit of work….. just sayin’…..

“Originality is the fine art of remembering what you hear but forgetting where you hear it.” — Laurence Peter, “Peter’s Quotations”, 1977
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“Fantasy, abandoned by reason, produces impossible monsters; united with it, she is the mother of the arts and the origin of marvels.”– Goya

Master Goya knows whereof he speaks. If you believe it not, just view his body of work, and we will discuss it again.  Here is one of the marvels of which he speaks… I had forgotten how excellent a poet Keats could be. This is obviously a “toss off” poem, a spur of the moment reaction, yet effortlessly gives the reader a taste of the grandeur of what he had read in Chapman, and felt about what he read.  Enjoy!….

Much have I travell’d in the realms of gold,
And many goodly states and kingdoms seen;
Round many western islands have I been
Which bards in fealty to Apollo hold.
Oft of one wide expanse had I been told
That deep-brow’d Homer ruled as his demesne,
Yet did I never breathe its pure serene
Till I heard Chapman speak out loud and bold:
Then felt I like some watcher of the skies
When a new planet swims into his ken;
Or like stout Cortez when with eagle eyes
He stared at the Pacific, and all his men
Look’d at each other with a wild surmise,
Silent, upon a peak in Darien.
— John Keats (1795-1821) — On first looking into Chapman’s Homer

Gorgeous! If you can believe it, I am speechless in admiration….. watch me….. See? Nothing more to say…. well, maybe one thing….

“True eloquence consists in saying all that should be said, not all that could be.” — Francois Duc de la Rochefoucauld
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No, ‘t is slander,
Whose edge is sharper than the sword, whose tongue
Outvenoms all the worms of Nile, whose breath
Rides on the posting winds, and doth belie
All corners of the world.
— William Shakespeare (1564-1616), Cymbeline
— Act iii, Sc. 4

Not to belabor my point, but see? Shakespeare. Really bad verse. At least 10 too many words, way more than needed, and still so obscure the point has to be shaken out like a peach from a tree. Not unusual for him, in my mind….. I rest my case…..

Kirk: “Spock, comment.”
Spock: “Very bad poetry.”
— “Catspaw”, Stardate 3018.2.
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Well…. I’d feel strange about the lineup today, but, in truth, it’s not an unusual grouping to find here. Since I never plan what to write ahead of time, I suppose that isn’t particularly surprising. It keeps me busy….. a bit of housekeeping, if you would spare me a moment of your attention….

*Smart Bee — Smart Bee is the database program in which a lot of the quotes I use as pearls are found. More of them than I would like are not attributed, as might be expected in a database of 111, 111 quotes amassed by a collection of geeks and programmers (i.e., hackers) in their spare time, and distributed for free.

In the past I have attributed all such orphaned statements to Anonymous, Unknown, and occasionally, no one at all (I feel plagiaristic every time, but whaddyagonnado,  when it’s perfect and you’re in a hurry to get done?) So, in the future, just for the sake of my sanity, such as it is, I’ll be attributing all such taglines found with no one to blame to Smart Bee itself. That way, I don’t have to try to figure out which to use each time, and can just get on with it… thanks for your patience with this little condom for my mental health.

And on that note, classy and elegant guy that I am, I shall bid thee adieu… be warned, please, that I intend to try to post to my blog site again later today…. but it won’t hurt, I assure you, especially if I don’t get to it….. Y’all take care out there…..

 

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

Kowabunga!

Strike the tent! We’ve been pacified!

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13

Ffolkes,
Possessing a passionate nature is not always a blessing. There are many times that my passion is so great that I feel as if I will burst if I cannot do something that will fulfill it somehow; to soothe it, or calm it so that I don’t feel as if I am trying to hold the leash of a rhinoceros who really, really wants to walk, NOW! The hard part of that is that taking the walk, or even slipping the leash off and letting it run, does not necessarily soothe the beast, or release the pent up energy. But, if it’s the only thing to do, or that CAN be done, well, we just have to try it, and hope for the best.

The other hard part of having unresolved passionate feelings is knowing that the event or issue that prompted the feelings is often something for which we have no solution, at least not in the short term. The reasons  behind that failure of solution are not important, other than to point out that reality can often not be changed to suit our desires. But the fact of the matter is that our, or my, passion is thus being controlled by factors in the world over which I have little or no control, and that is a hard pill to swallow, especially for someone who feels responsibility for their own feelings and action. I HATE knowing that there are things going on in the world over which I have no control, and that those things are evil.

This line of thought was prompted by a couple of comments made by a reader who had been taking in some of the articles on human trafficking, sexual abuse, and sex trade practices that I have re-blogged,  articles written by survivors, who know first-hand the evil of which I spoke above. The comment was a plaintive lament, expressing sorrow and astonishment at the extent and Medusa-nature of the trade in modern society, referencing a recent shut-down of a sex trade operation nearby, with the subsequent appearance of three new operations in the same area.

Her lament, naturally, struck a deep chord in me, for it echoes the hollow feelings of my passion over this issue, feelings so deep I weep, even now, as I think of the pain and degradation of my sisters who are trapped by those WOS assholes (I know, pretty lame insult for such evil; I’m still searching for words powerful enough to really show the level of hatred and disdain that I feel) (I don’t engage in hatred very much, it is generally an unproductive emotion. But, in the case of these people, a term I use in lieu of anything more accurate, I am making a deliberate exception to that policy, allowing myself to hate them without reservation…. damn straight I am…..)  who engage in the sex trade.

Sometimes, the only way I can stop myself from crying is to envision myself walking into a place like the Mustang Ranch, or some other brothel in any random city, and methodically assassinating any male figure that stepped into my sight, customer or staff, preferably with some sort of hollowpoint ammunition that would make a real mess when I shoot them in the head. That vision will usually make me feel better, if only for a moment or two.

For now, though, all I can do is try to help these women, who have survived and moved on, but have the compassion in them to want to share their strength with the other women, and children, still enslaved, to tell their story to the world, painful as that is for them. And all I can do to help, until I can get more ammunition anyway, is to help them to spread that story, to engage as many people in society as possible, who may then be pushed to add their voices, and their energies, to stopping this plague, this blight on society.

Since this issue has been present in society for many thousands of years, the eradication of it in its entirety will be a nasty, time-consuming job, not unlike getting rid of an insect infestation in a house or community. But it is a job that is long overdue for completion, so I’ll be doing whatever I can to help, for as long as I am well enough to type, and move a mouse around. (Or pull a trigger, but that is another story, yet to be written…. rest assured, before I die, I will personally take a significant number of assholes down….. one bullet for each asshole, one asshole for each sister I find there…..)

Well, that was a pleasant start to the day, wasn’t it? To be honest, I was torn up pretty well by the emotional storm this created within me…. but those last couple of lines had the beneficial effect of lifting my spirits quite nicely. I’m not sure what that says about me, getting my serenity from thinking about killing assholes, but, hey, too bad, so sad…. I refuse to feel any guilt over my intended future acts. The only guilt I intend to suffer over any of them will be if I miss with my first shot, and have to waste another round to put them down like the dirty, evil dogs they are…… karma be damned, in this case… I’ll take the risk.

“I must do something” will always solve more problems than, “Something must be done.” — Anonymous

There, that said, we can now go on to something a bit less dark and dreary…. well, we can if I can find an appropriate pearl to stimulate said lightness. Let’s go see what we can see, shall we?….. After you……
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“The rights of one are as sacred as the rights of a million.” — Eugene V. Debs, US labor leader.

(Note: Debs received one million votes in 1920 as candidate for US President, while serving a 10-year jail sentence for having said in June 1918: “Wars throughout history have been waged for conquest and plunder…the master class has always declared the wars; the subject class has always fought the battles.” Since we were at war, or just done with one, the beloved ruling class was able to label him a traitor for his words, thus hoodwinking the public, again….)

This pearl is another that doesn’t really need embellishment or long discussion, as I placed it here merely as a warning. Society today is no less tolerant of those who question those in power than it was just after WW I when Mr. Debs was cast down for dissing the beloved ruling class while they were in the middle of their victory dance. Though it is encouraging to note the number of intellectuals that were alert and active in 1920 at the polling booths, it must also be noted that, by virtue of force (i.e., shutting Debs up by locking him away on some trumped up charge) all million of those votes were effectively nullified, and made useless, except as a statement.

I think that all of us today who consider ourselves to be intellectuals, with responsibility to stay alert and speak out against the madness, would be well-advised to keep the example of Eugene Debs in mind, and be ready to repel any attempts to shut us up, by force, or by stealth, or by lying and cheating, all of which have been tried and true methods used by those in power…… Be alert, folks, the world needs more lerts, and that is NOT a joke, but a warning…..
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Just jiggle it a little, it’ll open. — Smart Bee  Wisdom for the ages…. known only to those with the soul of a true engineer…

As a rule, I didn’t, and don’t, write about men/women relationships in a serious vein, a practice most likely left over from my years as a thoroughly married man, one who was, of course, subject to the rules and unwritten laws that go with any such social contract (and, if you are paying attention today, you’ll see I’m not about to start now….). Talking about the relationship seriously is DANGEROUS TERRITORY for a man alone, as such things are more in the purview of women, at least in my experience. I mean, regardless of how honestly, or sincerely, or logically, or reasonably I have approached discussions of a serious nature with a women in relationship, what I said had absolutely no impact at all on the outcome. None. Zero. Zip. Nada. Not a damn thing.

What I discovered in my years of experiencing the phenomenon is that the outcome of all such conversations is a foregone conclusion; whatever reason the woman had for initiating the conversation was irrelevant, as were any thoughts on the matter I might entertain. What was key was to learn to understand that they didn’t need or want any input from me, because their mind, and feelings, were already set in stone; the discussion was merely some kind of ritual formality, necessary to show that they were trying to discuss things with you, or in this case, me….. and my thoughts and feelings on the matter were not merely irrelevant, but counter-productive in their eyes. (Echoes of past cliches are resounding in my mind, but I’m far too polite to include them….   🙂    …… )

One of the less emotional, but still potentially volatile, subjects that might prompt such discussion in a marriage involves chores, or tasks that come up in any household. For example, “Honey, the car is making a funny noise. Would you fix it, please?”  Questions such as this are pretty common, from woman to man, wouldn’t you say? Common enough at my house for the fact to have surfaced that hey, I’m not a mechanic! The one class in school that I ever got less than a B was auto shop, and she KNOWS this. I’m not an ignoramus in the engineering field, but it is NOT my field of expertise by any stretch of the imagination.

Yet my wife would continually assign tasks to me for completion that a man who had worked for 30 years on cars would scratch his head at (not an exaggeration. I took a cars to my VW guru more than once, asking him to track down whatever it was she heard, and he would frequently give it back with no charge, because he couldn’t find anything wrong with it…. not once, not twice, but…. more than that….. at least four times I can remember…. not hard to remember as it was really embarrassing, every time….)

But it didn’t matter to her; she wanted it fixed, and that was my job, regardless of whether or not I had an engineering degree or not, and that was all she wanted to hear on the subject….. SIGH, it was tough living up to those kind of delusions, er, standards, when she obviously believed the following to be a natural law, and expected me to be able, or even willing, to obey it…..

“Anything can be made to work if you fiddle with it long enough.” — Wyszkowski’s Second Law

By God, for a moment there, it all made sense…
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“It is a blessed thing that in every age some one has had individuality enough and courage enough to stand by his own convictions. I believe it was Magellan who said, “The church says the earth is flat; but I have seen its shadow on the moon, and I have more confidence even in a shadow than in the Church.” On the prow of his ship were disobedience, defiance, scorn, and success.” — Robert G. Ingersoll, quoted in _The Great Quotations_

And, on that note, we offer the following…..

1. Politics without principle
2. Wealth without work
3. Commerce without morality
4. Pleasure without conscience
5. Education without character
6. Science without humanity
7. Worship without sacrifice
— Gandhi’s Seven Social Sins

Of these principles, I can fully support 6 of 7, which is the best percentage of belief I’ve admitted to for ANY system of philosophy, so, good for Mahatma…. These two short statements don’t really need my comments, so I’m not going to give any, other than to say that both are very good meditation focus tools, with just a bit of practical editing to put them in the right form, as mindful questions to answer during our meditations…… enjoy!….
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Ingredients: vodka, tomato juice, Tabasco, Worcestershire sauce, A-1 steak sauce, ice, salt, pepper, celery.
Fill a large tumbler with vodka.
Throw all the other ingredients away.

— The Real Man’s Bloody Mary

Having been a bartender for a time, I rather enjoyed making Bloody Mary’s for the club members. As a chef, too, I played with recipe a bit, and came up with a pretty good set of proportions that made the list of classical ingredients able to be brought together into a “perfect” Bloody Mary, by the reports of the members. So, knowing those ingredients, upon reading the above, I was able, and happy, to burst into guffaws of laughter at the last line. Funny, funny, funny shit!  My recipe, which, classically, contains no A-1 sauce (an abomination!), and does contain both celery salt and fresh, strong horseradish, (along with my secret, a half teaspoon of chopped garlic) was popular with a number of the early golfers. But there WAS one member, who came in to play 18 holes just about every day, who would come in and ask for his personal Bloody Mary, (which he told his wife was what he drank while playing each morning).

This gentleman’s (he was no duffer, for sure….) version of the classic drink called for a 32 ounce opaque white cold cup, ice to 2/3 filled, then filled to the top of the cup with straight vodka from the well, a decent, but cheap plonk (it worked out to about 8 or 9 shots of vodka per drink). He’d slap a lid on it, take a huge swallow, grin, ask me to replace the swallow, and hit the course, both of us fully aware that regardless of his score on the front nine, he would be picking up an identical refill on the turn. 

Now, that was a drinking man! Can’t say I admired him, particularly, as a man, because he had a son and daughter, and no doubt spent too much time wasted to be of much use as a father.  But I did stand in amazement at how well he could play golf in that condition (he maintained an honestly earned handicap of 4; he was very, very good, according to his partners, all damn good golfers themselves…..), and at his liver, which hadn’t killed him by the time I left…..
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“It has been said that trees are imperfect men, and seem to bemoan their imprisonment rooted in the ground. But they never seem so to me. I never saw a discontented tree. They grip the ground as though they liked it, and though fast rooted they travel about as far as we do. They go wandering forth in all directions with every wind, going and coming like ourselves, traveling with us around the sun two million miles a day, and through space heaven knows how fast and far!” — John Muir, American Naturalist (1838-1914)

John Muir probably did as much, and more, to ensure the preservation of much of the American wilds as any man who ever lived; his lifelong love affair with Mother Nature was not a front. His passion and sheer joy at being out of doors, almost anywhere, but especially in his beloved Yosemite, was obvious in every one of the thousands and thousands of words he wrote, trying to describe what he saw and felt when he was connected to Nature (always capitalized in his mind). He was a good writer, with excellent observational skills, and an engaging style. But, when waxing poetic about the wonders of his love for Nature, he tended to well, gush….. and since he had a very extensive, powerful vocabulary, his is not just gushing, but major gushing….. it can get everywhere if it spills…..   🙂

It’s okay, that is not a complaint, or intended to disparage. It’s just a personal opinion, from a curmudgeon in training, who gets a bit weary after a while of all the hyperbole Mr. Muir uses in his descriptions …. but THIS quote is perfect, to me, and I like it a lot. The image of Man and Tree walking the earth together, side by side as we ride our planetary roller coaster through space, is a lovely one, bringing a smile to my face upon first reading it. I was reminded of the scenes in the Lord of the Rings Trilogy where the hobbits, Pippin and Merry, are introduced to, and learn to appreciate, Greybeard, the Ent, the last and oldest tree in Middle Earth, the remaining guardian of all the less-sentient trees…. a truly wonderful vision of the inter-connecting lines of life force that are common to all the creatures and plants who inhabit Earth….. and not a gush to be seen….. lovely.
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Wow. 0711 and I’m done. Not bad, even if I did start before 0500 by a good half hour….. I’ll take it. Maybe today, I can actually get a jump on the day’s email, before it has a chance to bury me again. Yesterday evening, I found myself still going through emails I had not gotten to yet, from 4/3/12, three days ago last night.

It is getting discouraging; I had it down to only 20 unread, and about 85 read but not yet site-visited, for those posts I wanted to acknowledge, or read more fully. Now this morning when I finish this, I flip over to email and find…… yup, as I suspected, 45 new emails to read….. SIGH… the price of fame, or in my case, an equal amount of folly, I suppose.

No es importa, es una problema personal, verdad? Si….  Y’all take care out there…..

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

gigoid

Kowabunga!

Plain, old-fashioned articles of modern design….

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16

Ffolkes,
Malaise. An innocuous word, wouldn’t you say? Almost sounds like one of those drinks you get on a cruise ship, in a colorful plastic cup with a bamboo umbrella sticking up from the top….. Makes me thirsty just thinking about it, until I think about what the drink inside those cups usually taste like, to wit: six fruits, sugar, and a bunch of cheap rum, with bubbles. This is also only until I remember what the word actually means, and its relevance this morning…..

In the psychiatric healthcare industry, malaise refers to a certain set of symptoms experienced by people who suffer a wide range of mental issues; it is common in depression, neurosis of several types, schizophrenia, and a number of other diagnoses. Malaise is generally reported as a vague, unsettled feeling, centered in the abdomen, much like a low-grade fear, but without any specific cause or stimulus that the sufferer is aware of. All that unfortunately afflicted individual knows is that they are accompanied by a constant sense of impending doom, of dread at what may happen; they cannot tell you why they feel that way, they just do so.

I am here to tell you, it isn’t fun. As a man who has in the past suffered from the deleterious effects of long-term exposure to violence, i.e., post traumatic stress disorder/syndrome, I experience this on an irregular, unwelcome basis. This morning is one of those unwelcome times. I awoke, no earlier or later than usual, and from sleep not troubled by uncomfortable dreams, or excessive pain, either of which are common.

But, as I sat up to begin the morning routine, I was washed over completely, like an unexpected wave at the beach, by a feeling of trepidation and mild fear; sort of anticipation of disaster, much akin to the first moments before wading in to physically control a raging psychopath bent on ripping my head from my shoulders, an event with which I am all-too-familiar.

As a result of all the years I spent doing just that, it is a feeling I know well, and recognize easily. What isn’t so easy is convincing my conscious mind that all that fear does not require any action on its part; the fear is accompanied, you see, by a good strong jolt of adrenaline, which kind of takes over the metabolism, preparing the body for fight or flight. No fight, no flight, just the adrenaline coursing through my system, looking for a convenient asshole, or a plane ticket….

So, here I sit, vibrating lightly in every muscle, determined to ignore this feeling that I should be up searching for the danger so obviously present, according to the feelings of malaise I’m trying to ignore.  It will pass, after a time; it always does. It resembles Murphy in that respect; you never know or expect it when he might show up, and can never be sure he’s really gone, just because you don’t see him anymore. Patience, and will power, are the keys to handling this without ill effects, and needless to say, I’ve had lots of practice at this particular process.

So, we’ll just gather up our belongings, and get back on the bus, which will take us directly to the jumping off point for the day….. Shall we go Pearling? I say we must….. or I’m doomed to spend the rest of the day in a medicated haze, in order to keep from running around naked, throwing rocks at the seagulls, and scaring the neighbors….. Shall we be off, then? Let’s do………
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Virtue, the strength and beauty of the soul,
Is the best gift of Heaven: a happiness
That even above the smiles and frowns of fate
Exalts great Nature’s favourites: a wealth
That never encumbers, nor can be transferred.
— John Armstrong (1709-1779)

Virtue is the subject of this poem, and justly so, as it is a key element in the make-up of an evolved Man, by my definition of such. In my mind, one of the most important of these virtues is Duty, which could also be said to possess the same qualities as ascribed to virtue in this beautiful piece, in that it “never encumbers, nor can be transferred.”  In fact, Duty is unique among the most important virtues, as it is completely a matter of choice. One must choose Duty; it cannot be thrust upon us by others, unless we consent. It may not be our first, or best choice to assume a Duty, but it is OUR choice, not that of society, or of other people, or of Fate, whatever that means to you.

For the first ten years of my life, my family spent most of those years living on US Army bases. Fort Lewis, Fort Ord, off-base housing in San Pedro, all were what we called home until my father mustered out in 1961. As a result, my upbringing was a bit different from that of most of my civilian classmates. By the time I started school at age 4.8 (November birthday), I had already been to Japan with the family, was well able to perform such tasks as making a bed on which you could bounce a quarter, sweeping and vacuuming, mowing lawns, raking leaves, minding my younger siblings, and a bunch of other stuff that a family with five kids tends to outsource to the young’uns for completion.  And, most significantly, I could perfectly address my seniors with well-rehearsed protocols of politeness, as well as give a pretty fair definition of what the term Duty meant……

Duty has remained as one of the most important elements of my life; to this day there are certain things I must do before I can go to sleep at night, all related to a chosen duty of some sort. And that is the point of this little discussion (at last, they cried!)….. Duty is chosen, not given. It may be accepted if offered, but the choice still remains. If we do not choose a Duty, then we will not be invested in fulfilling it, other than for how we wish others to see us, a very poor way to structure one’s actions. Only by choosing our Duty do we feel the responsibility for completing it; only the choice determines our investment. But, the reward for making that choice, and for meeting the demands Duty places upon us, is being able to sleep at night, with a clear conscience, and an easy heart…..

Self-respect . . . is a question of recognizing that anything worth having has its price. — Anonymous, but true nonetheless….
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“I do not believe in the creed professed by the Jewish church, by the Roman church, by the Greek church, by the Turkish church, by the Protestant church, nor by any church that I know of. My own mind is my own church.” — Thomas Paine

The Founding Fathers had a strong, and justifiable, lack of trust in organized religion, and that mistrust is exemplified in this statement from Thomas Paine. It is a sentiment shared by a significant number of those men who left us our legacy of freedom, as evidenced by similar statements seen in correspondence written by, and/or to, Thomas Jefferson and Ben Franklin, among others. All these men had direct experience with how organized faiths fall into corruption and oppression, and how those organizations attempt to force non-believers into submission to their dogmatic influence. This corruption and oppression was, after all, the driving force behind their journey to the New World in the first place…..

If we look around society today, the picture that organized religions present is very similar to what was seen back then, only on a much grander scale. The leaders of those religions continue to pervert the teachings of Christ, changing them around to suit their own agenda and purposes, until what they say is completely unrecognizable by any true Christian, and would most likely have Jesus blushing down to his toes at the thought of them using his name to justify their perversions. The only difference in today’s world is in how many different sects of Christianity have surfaced over the intervening 240 years. When the US Constitution was signed, there were maybe eight or ten sects among the populace; now there are literally thousands of different interpretations of what the Bible, and the New Testament, say about life. This doesn’t even address or count the presence of at least five other major religions that the American populace embraces. And each one is thoroughly convinced of their own rightness, that all the others are wrong, and will go straight to hell when they die…..

SIGH…. all I can say at this point is, a) I am VERY, VERY glad that our forefathers had the good sense to build a solid wall between church and state, and b) I am equally as happy that I have not bought into the lies, perversions, or dogma that ANY of these charlatans in priestly robes are handing out, even when they make the offer with candy, or cakes, or sacramental wine, not even a nice Chianti, with some fava beans….. otherwise, I’d feel worse about it all than I already do…..

“If fifty million people say a foolish thing, it is still a foolish thing.” — Bertrand Russell
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Truckin’, like the do-dah man
Once told me “Gotta play your hand.
Sometimes your cards ain’t worth a damn
If you don’t lay’em down.”
Sometimes the light’s all shinin’ on me;
Other times I can barely see.
Lately it occurs to me
What a long, strange trip it’s been.
— Truckin’ by Garcia, Weir, Lesh, Hunter

I’m pulling my covers again, though I’ve never really worn them very tightly. I’m a hippie. I became a hippie in 1968, when I decided to attend the University of California at Berkeley, and entered into a world so different from that I had heretofore experienced that I am still seeing, and feeling, the effects, both good and ill. This verse from an iconic tune from those halcyon days is a very good expression of how I feel today, some 44 years later…..

I’ve met the do-dah man, even played a few gigs with him back in the day. I’ve played enough poker to know he was giving me the straight skinny on that; it’s good advice, as evidenced by my lifetime record of breaking even at the game that isn’t a game. I’ve been in the light, and found my way out of the darkness on more than one occasion. And I am completely convinced that my long, strange trip is not yet done, and that there are strangeness’s and wondrous beauty still to be seen and experienced before I pass into the great unknown that awaits us all.

I’m not ashamed of being a hippie. We, as a group of American citizens, were directly and indirectly responsible for a great many societal changes, and the activism we espoused back in the day has not mellowed with age. I’d guess that a significant number of us are active in such organizations as MoveOn.org, the Occupy Protests, the push for equality between the sexes, and those that seek justice for the victimized and oppressed, that are active today, as has been true since the 60’s. Just because I’m getting older doesn’t mean I’m going to cut my hair, stop playing poker, or reduce my sense of outrage at the atrocities I see in our society.

In fact, just the opposite is true. Though much thinner these days, my hair still reaches half-way down my back, and there has been no less outrage in my responses to the news, not that I can see. (I do play less poker, but that is due to lack of available playing partners and a stake, not lack of want-to….)  I can only hope now to provide an example for the youth of this time, to continue to show that honor, duty, and and the journey toward justice for all (Free our sisters, free ourselves!) are not out of favor, but continue to be key elements of right behavior, and right action, for a large number of citizens, past their prime or not…. hell, it just makes us meaner and tougher, not weaker. The PTB and the beloved ruling class might do well to remember that…..

“Meddle not in the affairs of dragons, for you are crunchy and good with ketchup.” — little known, but apt, advice from Merlin the Wise, the most influential wizard in the history of Mankind….
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This beautiful example of ASCII art will hopefully translate from where I found it to this post and still retain its clarity. To be certain, and to segue into the discussion I’m planning, allow me to say that you SHOULD see here a picture of a magnificently plumed Tom Turkey, as envisioned in the mind of J. Random Hacker.

Now, when I saw this, after my initial response (“Perfect!”, I thought….), a second, slightly more wicked thought struck me, and I thought I should share it. I have a proposed change to suggest for both, or hell, all of the political parties in the US today. Republicans,Democrats, Libertarians, Independents, Whackos (the Santorum/Romney/Gingrich contingent….    …. sometimes called the Tea Party), they all need to consider taking this image as one to replace the elephant, the donkey, the cartoon characters, etc. that they now use to represent their party line, and how they wish to be viewed. A turkey is very American, much more native here than the majority of political hacks on parade.

Turkeys are survivors, and are considered to be one of the toughest birds to hunt and kill, as they are fast fliers, hyper-alert, and smart as hell in their own environment. Of course, none of these characteristics are common to these political groups as they exist now, but hey, maybe by changing their icons, they can take on some of these virtues…. it couldn’t hurt, and just might make them more palatable to the rest of us……. What do you think? Think they’ll go for it?…. They might just earn my vote, if they should all of a sudden show some common sense, and go along with this novel idea…. Probably not going to happen, but I can dream, can’t I?……
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Limericks are art forms complex,
Their topics run chiefly to sex.
They usually have virgins,
And masculine urgin’s,
And other erotic effects.
— Anonymous

Haiku are always
calmly directing our eyes
pointing to the way.
–gigoid

So, it occurred to me, after writing the above haiku, to ask myself, “Self, which came first, the limerick or the haiku?”  At first, I thought I was just being silly. Then I realized I really wanted to know, but I’m too lazy to Google right now. So, here is the deal…..

I’d appreciate a response from anyone who has any ideas or reactions on this, either by commenting, or by posting a reply; if I follow your blog, I’ll be notified of either method of response, and be able to reply in turn. No prizes will be awarded, though I will mention your name, and your answer to this time-honored query, in a future Pearl. (Well, it’s been honored for the two or three minutes since I asked it, and by the time you answer, it will be more, so….) So, join in the fun, and the challenge, and send me a response today! You won’t regret it, much…..

It’s the plugging away that will win you the day,
So don’t be a piker, old pard!
Just draw on your grit, it’s so easy to quit:
It’s the keeping-your-chin-up that’s hard.
It’s easy to cry that you’re beaten–and die;
It’s easy to crawfish and crawl;
But to fight and to fight when hope’s out of sight–
Why, that’s the best game of them all!
And though you come out of each grueling bout,
All broken and beaten and scarred,
Just have one more try–it’s dead easy to die,
It’s the keeping-on-living that’s hard.
— Robert W. Service — The Quitter
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Got ahead of myself there for a moment. I was so excited at being done, I started to copy and paste to the appropriate destination files, and only then noticed I had not quite finished. So, here I am, to compose one more witty ending to another meandering journey through the labyrinth I call my mind…. easy money, as they say.

Well, the meandering and the ending parts are easy; the witty part is, as always, a notably arguable characteristic of what I write for publication. Ah well, I suppose it is well to remember that the journey is the lesson, not the destination…. Y’all take care out there……

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

gigoid

Kowabunga!