Though I arise to meet the day with polite interest, it does not always return the favor. Makes me want to start the day with a rant, so have a care this morning; these Pearls may be a bit surly……
Global warming, along with dissolution of the ozone layer, has caused a dramatic increase in serious weather extremes all over the world, and the evidence that these events are being caused by pollution that mankind has created is overwhelming. There is no doubt whatsoever in the minds of 99.9% of the world’s leading scientists that this is the case; the only naysayers have direct ties to religious organizations, who care not about the evidence. And unfortunately, there are still politicians out there who are so tightly tied to the money they receive from big oil companies, car manufacturers, and industrialists, as well as being influenced by their religious fundamentalism, that they profess their doubts that the evidence is correct, or label it as unproven theory. They are so intent on hiding their heads in the sand, in order to continue lining their pockets, they will say anything to delay the imposition of any restrictions on their right to pollute. They have no thought for the future, beyond how they can turn it to their purposes. The concept of giving up their profit is so foreign to them, they cannot even put it aside to confront their own impending demise, preferring the ostrich’s patented method to altruism, or even realism. I can see much conflict in the coming years, as the folks who want to keep on living begin to fight it out with those who would merrily send us all to hell…….
“It’s the RINSE CYCLE!! They’ve ALL IGNORED the RINSE CYCLE!!” — Zippy the Pinhead
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Poets go from bad to verse.
And punsters should all go straight to jail, without passing Go, and without collecting $200. Sorry, couldn’t help it……next time I put one this sad out there, feel free to throw rotten fruit……
[Clear the throat]
Oh freddled gruntbuggly
Thy micturations are to me
As plurdled gabbleblotchits on a lurgid bee
Groop I implore thee
my foonting turlingdromes
And hooptiously drangle me
with crinkly thy blindlewurdles,
Or I will rend thee In the gobberwarts
With my blurglecruncheon, see if I don’t! — The Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy
I rest my case…..
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“If people are good only because they fear punishment, and hope for reward, then we are a sorry lot indeed.” — Albert Einstein
If Albert were still with us, I’m afraid he would be shaking his head in wonder and disappointment at the sorry state to which mankind has brought itself. Like petty children, the powers that be in the world continue to run around chasing after the almighty dollar, completely ignoring how their actions are killing us all. They don’t care, about other people, or even themselves; it isn’t possible for any creature to act so much against their own interests unless they are in a state of complete denial regarding any input they receive that is not to their benefit. If it won’t sell, they won’t buy it, and the rest of us will pay the price. How much more are you willing to put up with? As for myself, I am done with their intransigence in the face of reality, and will be spending all my not inconsiderable talents to poking fun at their idiotic pronouncements, and calling them out for their perpetual lies…..
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“When an old person dies, a library is lost.” — Tommy Swann
My mom’s library closed about a month ago. Using that language to say it will hopefully keep me from breaking down as I type, as it is slightly less pointed than other expressions might be. But it’s hard to accept that I can’t call her any more when I forget a relative’s birthday, or to ask which of her great-great grandkids was the latest addition to the tribe. She passed away not too long after her 90th birthday this year, and the pain not only hasn’t passed, but comes up to grab me at odd times; it’s hard on the equilibrium to say the least. But I like this quote, because it is a reminder that we should value the lives and experiences of our elders; they have a lot of untapped knowledge and experience that anyone younger cannot possibly know of. It should always be treasured, for you never know when they will be gone……
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Happy who in his verse can gently steer
From grave to light, from pleasant to severe.
— Nicholas Boileau-Despreaux (1636-1711)
— The Art of Poetry, Canto i, Line 75
This is the goal. This is what I’m shooting for every time I sit down to write. I want to write so well that the reader forgets he/she is reading; the words become reality. With the proper care, and enough heart, what I write should bring the reader into my world, to feel what I feel; I want them to hurt as much as I, and to experience even more joy.
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