The Sacred Word for today is “Nosh”…..

Posted on June 22, 2012 by gigoid

Ffolkes,
Yesterday, having so readily turned into a clusterf__k, leads steadily to today, which promises to be better, if only because it can’t be worse. Without getting into a huge rant or whiny outburst, let’s just say that I’m not looking forward with any great anticipation to the next six months of limbo, a word that oh so accurately describes my current state of existence. In fact, I’m dreading it, but there is, as usual, not a damn thing I can do about it, except learn how to wait, even more than I have already learned….. It is said that all things come to he who knows how to wait…. well, it would be nice to see a little proof of that. I’ve done, and continue to do, the waiting part of the deal….. so, where is the “all things” that are supposed to come?…..

Ah well, it’s bad enough believing in Murphy, and his power over me. It’s probably a good thing in this instance that I don’t believe the traditional dogma on God, as it would just be a pisser to think that God had anything to do with this…. By all reports, though, He is pretty vindictive and jealous, and putting me through this kind of trial probably wouldn’t be unheard of…. Look at what He is supposed to have done to Job, that poor idiot…. I guess having to spend some months scrambling for food isn’t much, compared to plagues, crop failures, losing sons and daughters, and generally getting shat upon by God…..

With that relatively morbid, but encouraging thought in mind, I guess we should go Pearl…..
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“Of the two smartest creatures on the earth, man and the dolphin, each thought they were smarter then the other. Man thought he was smarter because he built many things and did much work, when the dolphins just played all day. The dolphins thought they were smarter for the same reason.” — Smart Bee

Perspective is everything, eh? I still think the dolphins got the better deal…. Actually, this just goes a long way toward showing the inappropriateness of the sense of entitlement that most humans feel. Having been granted “dominion” over the rest of the world’s creatures, said dominion, of course, self-granted, we hunt, and kill, every other animal on the planet, often just for the sake of killing, to see if we can….

I never understood the concept of “hunting” animals while using a high-powered rifle, unless those doing the hunting issued rifles to the game. I always thought that if one wished to hunt and kill a wild animal, then they should be limited to the same weapons the animal has… e.g. deer have antlers, which cannot be thrown, so the human gets one knife, which must be used without throwing. Bears have teeth, claws, strength and speed, so let’s make it even, & give the hunter a nice, sharp spear, AND a knife. Even bows & arrows aren’t fair play, to my mind, as they allow the human all the advantage of being able to injure or disable from a distance.

“I’m pretty good with people on an individual basis, but in groups, I really can’t stand the bastards!” — George Carlin

If hunters were limited to that sort of rules, designed to make it more fair, then perhaps I could feel more okay with it. But, the whole idea of killing for sport seems to me to be a bad habit to foster at all, from a wider ethical viewpoint. Killing, while natural to us, is not our most attractive feature, and our tendency to use it on each other is part of why we are so close to extinction. Killing, whether it is killing of animals or humans, also kills the spirit of the one doing the killing. Every time one takes the life of another creature, a little piece of their soul is damaged, and deadened. If carried on, the spirit becomes completely callous, immune to the pain of empathy for the creatures they kill. They become….. politicians…..

Ronald Wilson Reagan is an anagram for Insane Anglo Warlord. — Smart Bee

Now that might seem like a stretch of the imagination, but I challenge anyone to disprove my contention. Politicians don’t care about anyone but themselves; their spirits are dedicated to lying, stealing, and taking advantage of their fellow man. What kind of soul does it take to carry out those activities? One that is dead to empathy, that cannot feel the pain that others feel…. and that is a politician, by any other name….

“They [preachers] dread the advance of science as witches do the approach of daylight and scowl on the fatal harbinger announcing the subversions of the duperies on which they live.” — Thomas Jefferson

Okay, so that connection is a little dubious. But, it’s not really all that far off the mark; one could add preachers to the list of those who wear and/or display the hunter’s mask, as they are the ones who started the whole entitlement nonsense in the first place. Boy, if that wasn’t one of history’s greatest con jobs!

Getting folks to buy into that Garden of Eden story, straight out of somebody’s feverish imagination, was one of the best snow-jobs ever, for sure…. Of course, it does feed right in to that human desire to be special, but still, it took a lot of chutzpah to pull it off, and to continue to run the “long con” by establishing churches and priestly hierarchies. Nasty as it is, ethically and morally, I still have to admire the way they pulled it off….

“God is the immemorial refuge of the incompetent, the helpless, the miserable. They find not only sanctuary in His arms, but also a kind of superiority, soothing to their macerated egos; He will set them above their betters.” — H.L. Mencken

I guess what this means in the large picture is that the human evolutionary change that Mankind needs the most is a change to our morals. When given a choice, most of Mankind opts to choose the easy path, the path of least resistance, and gives up the power of choice to others, in order to also give up responsibility. This is what needs to change. Mankind must learn to grow up, to take responsibility for the damage we have caused, and stop giving in to our baser nature. We need to cultivate the ethically higher parts of our nature… our reason, our empathy, our compassion. All of these need to become our motivation, rather than mere gratification of our base desires.

“Men rarely (if ever) manage to dream up a god superior to themselves. Most gods have the manners and morals of a spoiled child.” — Lazarus Long, from Robert A. Heinlein’s “Time Enough For Love”

Ah well, one can hope, even in the face of probable disaster, and I’ll keep on hoping…. foolish, I know, but what else can one do?….
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ICONOCLAST, n. A breaker of idols, the worshipers whereof are imperfectly gratified by the performance, and most strenuously protest that he unbuildeth but doth not reedify, that he pulleth down but pileth not up. For the poor things would have other idols in place of those he thwacketh upon the mazzard and dispelleth. But the iconoclast saith: “Ye shall have none at all, for ye need them not; and if the rebuilder fooleth round hereabout, behold I will depress the head of him and sit thereon till he squawk it.” — Ambrose Bierce, “The Devil’s Dictionary”

Ah, at long last…. Finally, a complete definition of what I attempt here on “gigoid– Exploring Consensual Reality”…. I can’t think of a better way to put it than this…..

A common criticism that is used to try to negate the effect of a writer, or a protester, or an iconoclast, by any other name, is that all of what they say is so negative, that they propose no solutions to the problems they lament. This is usually shouted, or at least delivered with a sneer, intended to convey dismissal of what has been said, as if it is of no importance, by supporters (worshipers) of the icon under discussion, or often, by the icon themselves. Those delusional figures of self-proclaimed importance always greet such attacks, no matter how true, or how justified, as if they are of no import; it is part of their sociopathy to dismiss all that does not fit into their rigid set of standards….

“Have integrity. Make your deeds follow your words. Keep your commitments to self and others, speak the truth.” — Smart Bee

Which is why I enjoy using the Truth to puncture their balloons; irrefutable evidence produces the most amazing faces on those who don’t want to believe it. But, even icons cannot deny what is staring them in the face, so they attempt to deny its relevance, or distract from its presence by a counter-accusation, or best of all, claim there is an attack from outside.

(I don’t know about the rest of the world, but the timing of the attack on 9/11/01 was fairly suspicious, considering how close the Bush administration was to being exposed for having manipulated the election results in 2000. Shortly after articles appeared stating there was solid physical evidence of chicanery, in the form of vote tampering in the results from three pivotal states that got Bush elected, the attack on the World Trade Center, the Pentagon, and Flight 93 took place, completely drawing the public’s attention from the possibility of a reversal of the election, by the sudden, shocking attack from the outside. I was suspicious of it then, and I remain suspicious now…. the timing was just too damn convenient for the Shrubs…..)

So, any who, the most obvious iconoclastic target for me at this point is Mitt the Twitt. He’s not a particularly challenging target, as he pretty much furnishes his own BS, and stumbles over his own words, and trips over his own ego, and generally craps in his own shoes. It’s almost too easy…. but fun, to be sure, as he really can make an ass of himself, without half trying, and that is pure fun to watch and report. I don’t really trust the Democrats either, but I do have respect for the office of the President, and so for the man in the office I show the respect of saying nothing, even though I could….

Of course, should the Twitt, through some unthinkable mistake, get into that office, I won’t be showing that respect, as it won’t have been earned. The only chance he has of winning the election is to use the same tactics as the Bushes, and cheat…. Funny how certain voting machines break down right at election time, isn’t it? And only in certain districts? Hmm…. Well, you can be sure, if he does, my respect for the office will not only be gone, but it may just turn the tide, and light the fuse under the ass of the American people to rise up and kick their sorry asses right off the planet, so we can get some serious work done on solving the problems we already have…. Again, all I can do is retreat into hope……
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Summer Sun

Great is the sun, and wide he goes
Through empty heaven with repose;
And in the blue and glowing days
More thick than rain he showers his rays.

Though closer still the blinds we pull
To keep the shady parlour cool,
Yet he will find a chink or two
To slip his golden fingers through.

The dusty attic spider-clad
He, through the keyhole, maketh glad;
And through the broken edge of tiles
Into the laddered hay-loft smiles.

Meantime his golden face around
He bares to all the garden ground,
And sheds a warm and glittering look
Among the ivy’s inmost nook.

Above the hills, along the blue,
Round the bright air with footing true,
To please the child, to paint the rose,
The gardener of the World, he goes.

Robert Louis Stevenson

I’m often unsure how to take Stevenson’s work. He was a complex man, living during an historically volatile era, yet his work is very romantic and simple, at least in appearance. But, that’s okay, too…. there is room for everyone at the Inn of the Inner Eye….
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I’m not sure what to think of today’s effort….. I’m going to take a moment or two to do just that; excuse me, I’ll be right back…..

I must say….. whew! That’s quite a wild ride! I knew I was all over the place, but didn’t realize the extent of the issue until I went back over all of it at once…. Okay, here’s the thing, I could give a warning, to be cautious today, and take breaks while digesting all of this. But, we’re all the way back here at the ending, so you wouldn’t see it in time…. hmm, another conundrum. What to do, what to do….

Ah, there we go…. I’ll end this here, remind you to go wash up, in case any of it got on your clothes, and take an aspirin for the headache it caused before you lie down….. okay? Okay!

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

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

gigoid

Kowabunga!

Malicious exploitation of rabbinical robes….

Posted on June 17, 2012 by gigoid

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Integrity needs no rules. — Smart Bee
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First Love

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

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

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

John Clare

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

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

gigoid

Kowabunga!

Avuncular attempts at erudition….

Posted on June 13, 2012 by gigoid

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

gigoid

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So, let me know what you think, either in the comments below, or by blogging about it, then let me know so I can go read it. Hey, if nothing else, it will give us both something different to try, yes? And who knows, it could provide material for all of us, one way or another…. and new material is always welcome here…..
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I have a friend, Patrick Power, who posts a lot of pictures on Facebook. He also has a WordPress blog, at http://itsallaboutvegas.wordpress.com/, (though he hasn’t posted there in a while…) and one at http://onemoviefanaticsopinion.blogspot.com/ (He doesn’t post much there, either…. busy guy….)

Our minds work in similar patterns, and I am almost always in agreement with what he posts, or ‘Like’ it because it is so cute, or accurate, or relevant. A couple of days ago, he posted this one, and I thought immediately that it should be sent to the Democratic Party for use during the upcoming campaign. I don’t think the Republicans need it, as they try to use it regularly…. fortunately, they’re not very good at it…. but, used properly, it can be extremely effective….
Perfect, isn’t it?…. Enjoy the day….
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Well, there you have it. My ISP has solved whatever problem it had, and I’m back online. This Pearl is done, though not in customary form. It somehow feels different today, like it got away from me for awhile…. ah well, probably just my incipient paranoia peeking out…. Y’all take care out there, and May the Metaphorse be with you…..

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

gigoid

Kowabunga!

New styles of designer cheese….

Posted on June 3, 2012 by gigoid

Ffolkes,
On most mornings, I can bring the power of the Metaphorse into play for the opening paragraphs of this missive. Phantasmagoria flow from my mind onto the screen, swirling and shifting into the shapes that will fascinate and entice. Odd connections and teasing concepts flutter around the reader’s head, pushing and pulling toward the edge of what is real. The very face of Reality can assume secondary and tertiary roles in passion plays of great import, and all hope of sanity retreats…..

Then, other mornings, such as this one, even the power of speech eludes me; the power of the Metaphorse is well out of reach. At this point, I’m amazed that I am able to type at all. It’s nothing untoward, I’m sure, just a lack of sugar complicating the start- and warm-up process. I should be fine after the second cup of coffee…. But it sure is inefficient, and nothing drives me crazier than inefficiency. Which is probably why Murphy likes to mess with me so much…. I’m an easy target….

Ah well, I should know by now that no matter how I feel upon arising, the lad will have preceded me and set up some fine, witty way to mess with my head within a few moments. It’s almost comforting…. Since ’tis the way of things, and there is nothing at all to do about it, I’m going to do what I probably should do more, which is try to ignore it. Maybe if I don’t give him so much attention, he’ll find some other bozo to go bother…. but, if not, at least I’ll have found a pearl or two by that time…. and I’ll settle for that….. Shall we Pearl?….
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A human being should be able to change a diaper, plan an invasion, butcher a hog, conn a ship, design a building, write a sonnet, balance accounts, build a wall, set a bone, comfort the dying, take orders, give orders, cooperate, act alone, solve equations, analyze a new problem, pitch manure, program a computer, cook a tasty meal, fight efficiently, die gallantly. Specialization is for insects.” — Lazarus Long

This statement has always appealed to me, as it is a fine description of what kind of person I’ve always wanted to be. Everything I see, or perceive, is of interest to me; it’s all grist for the mill. I’ve never understood how boredom can be a problem, for there is always something new to be learned, even in the most mundane circumstances. I’ve always felt that to be bored means that one is tired of what is going on inside one’s own mind. That is not something to which I will admit, and since I believe it to be a matter of choice, I will always choose to learn something, rather than submit to feeling bored….

It doesn’t make any sense to me to limit what we can do, or see, or feel, or perceive, just because it presents a risk. Risk is involved in the act of breathing; life is risk of death, at the core, so there is no point, to me, in trying to avoid whatever life will throw at us, because it will do so no matter how we feel about it. Over that we have no control…. the only control we have is over ourselves.

We can shut our eyes and minds, and try to ignore whatever reality presents; it’s not usually a good idea, but it seems to be the favorite reaction by a lot of folks. Or, we can open our minds, hearts, and emotions, and jump right into what life brings, using it to increase our ability to understand and cope, gaining the sense of accomplishment, and the pride of achievement that comes with learning something new….

Me?…. I’m no insect, and don’t intend to shut myself off from whatever life has for me to learn…. it’s way more fun than the alternative, for sure and for certain…. and I’m never bored….

All nature is but art, unknown to thee;
All chance, direction, which thou canst not see;
All discord, harmony not understood;
All partial evil, universal good;
And spite of pride, in erring reason’s spite,
One truth is clear, Whatever is, is right.
— Alexander Pope (1688-1744) — Essay on Man, Epistle i, Line 289
___________________________________ ‘Nuff said…. ‘cept, found on Facebook; my friend Patrick at work again…
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In the worlds before monkey, primal chaos reigned. Heaven sought order, but the Phoenix can fly only when its feathers are grown. The four lands formed again and yet again, as endless eons wheeled and passed. The wind, time and water (??) all worked upon a certain rock, old as creation, and it became magically fertile. That first egg was called ‘thought.’ Tagahata (??) Buddah, the Father Buddah says, ‘with our thoughts, we make the world.’ Elemental forces caused the egg to hatch. From it came a stone monkey. The nature of monkey was IRREPRESSIBLE! — Smart Bee

This delightfully cheerful piece of rogue philosophy sounds as if it were written as an entry in a contest to write the silliest, yet most plausible creation myth imaginable. It bears a certain resemblance to certain aboriginal and Eastern religious philosophies, even using a perverted spelling of Buddha to imply, and absorb, some of that philosophy’s carte grise. The last line is particularly apt to me, as well as a nod to modern culture… you could say it’s fabulous, and would be right to say so….

The question marks are not mine; they were included in the quote, so I know not whether they are editor’s notes, or merely hints from the unknown author. All in all, I’d say that, as creation myths go, it is at least as plausible as several of the rather incredulous tales currently held as truth by different sects of different religions around the world…..

“The first egg was called ‘thought'” Exquisite imagery…. as a metaphor for the power of possibility that is the nature of an egg, this is perfect. The power of thought thus creates the world, and monkey is born…. he sits down to type, irrepressible, and Shakespeare was foisted upon the world for all to suffer…. SIGH….

If only the monkeys had, in all that time to type, managed to come up with some Neil Simon, or even Tennessee Williams, then maybe this would be a different world, and nobody would have to pretend they understood what the hell Will was talking about…. Think how many brain cells could have been saved had we not had to sit through endless variations of his themes, like West Side Story, and others of that ilk….. ghastly….
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Hmm… interesting stuff. As usual, hard to say where it came from, or where it’s meant to go, but, there it sits, just like a bowl of fruit, waiting for someone to reach in and grab a bite of sweet…. though I doubt the fruit in my bowl quite fits that description. Nonetheless, there it sits, so I can get on with the rest of today, and so can you…. Y’all take care out there, and May the Metaphorse be with you….

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

gigoid

Kowabunga!

A strange trip, and long….

Posted on May 28, 2012 by gigoid

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

John Keats

A Drinking Song

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

William Butler Yeats

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Duty calls, and I must answer, so I will now be ruthless….as much as I ever do…. Y’all take care out there, and May the Metaphorse be with you…..

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

gigoid

Kowabunga!

Which is the silliest objective?

Posted on May 20, 2012 by gigoid

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

gigoid

Kowabunga!

Major fun for trapezoids….

Posted on May 18, 2012 by gigoid

Ffolkes,
Maybe I should follow Robert Heinlein’s advice more often, and wash my hands after writing. It’s possible that what gets on them during that nasty process is turning toxic, and slowly destroying my brain. If so, this is one of those things that should be included in the manual for burgeoning authors…. but, then, perhaps it is not there for a reason. Perhaps that particular piece of knowledge has been deliberately withheld in order to limit the total number of authors who are writing at any one time. Perhaps there is a quota that the Universe maintains, so that too many authors aren’t haranguing the public all at once.

Nah…. I don’t think so. That would imply assigning just a bit more intelligence to the universe than I’m willing to believe in, even considering Murphy, and his interfering ways. No, there must be something else going on to make my brain feel so much like mush. I’m sleeping too much, I can’t concentrate, I’m easily distracted, and subject to fits of emotions I thought I’d banished years ago (such as the guilt described yesterday…. haven’t felt that in many moons….). If I didn’t know better, I’d think I was coming down off crack, or some other addictive drug, and suffering the withdrawal symptoms. But, since the only addictive drug I’m using is prescribed, and I’m not out of it, that doesn’t explain it either.

Perhaps it’s the celibacy thing catching up to me. I don’t think I’ve ever had a period of my life where I’ve gone so long without a least token physical intimacy, even when I was married…. 🙂 Since I have not experienced such a drought before, I can’t say whether the symptoms are congruent with what I’m experiencing now, but I have heard that it can be quite strenuous on the organism when the absence of that particular form of exercise is in effect. It isn’t something I’ve ever really thought about…. I don’t think that’s it, though, it just doesn’t make sense, unless one believes that to create well, an artist must suffer. Suffer, okay, but is there any need to be cruel?…. Oh, yeah, forgot…. Murphy…. well….

Whatever is going on, it’s like pushing through clouds of cotton candy to find a thought; finding one worth writing about may turn into a real struggle, if this intro is any indication. I suppose it would be best to just ignore this brain thing as much as possible, and get on with the rest of what is planned…. who knows? It may turn out just fine…. we’ll just have to dive in and see, won’t we? Shall we Pearl?….
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“And torture one poor word ten thousand ways.” — John Dryden (1631-1700) — Britannia Rediviva, Line 208

Wow! Have you ever seen a better description of this blog? 🙂 I’ve been torturing words now for over 12 years, at least in a bloggy sense; that’s about how long I’ve been doing these Pearls. I’ve learned over the years not to hear their screams, or read the petitions, or pay any attention to the ones who try to distract me with their flexibility of meaning; I just strap them into the rack and start hacking away. Sometimes in the intro, I force them to assume the shape of a short fantasy; other times I will completely embarrass them by telling them they are haiku, or a poem, when they know for certain I am no poet. I can be pretty cruel to the words in my head…..

I figure it’s only fair, considering how they treat me much of the time. I don’t ask much of them, really…. just the morning group of five good pearls I can use to create these missives, and I’d leave them be. But much of the time, such as today, they insist on playing games, hiding, shifting about, presenting only the quotes they know I’ve already used, or massive amounts of Shakespeare, which they KNOW just annoys me…..

No, they’re not very nice to me, so I feel no compunction about torturing them to get them to do what I need them to do. If I didn’t, I’d never get anything written. If I didn’t write as much as I do, I’d build up all this incredibly strong angst and tension, and eventually it would have to come out…. and at that point, it can be dangerous, especially if there is anyone else in the immediate vicinity of the blast zone….

So, you see, this blog is really a public service in disguise…. No thanks are necessary: since they are my words, I take responsibility for them, and consider it my duty to keep them from harming others (except, of course, when I want them to do so…..). I just didn’t want y’all to think I was hiding anything important…. I like to call this my Literary Guantanamo Bay for Wayward Words, where we have the leeway, and the executive authority, to torture those nasty little terror-inducing buggers into submission….
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“I believe that it should be perfectly lawful to print even things that outrage the pruderies and prejudices of the general, so long as any honest minority, however small, wants to read them. The remedy of the majority is not prohibition, but avoidance.” — H.L. Mencken, “Baltimore Evening Sun”, March 31, 1924

The key idea here is in the last line… I like to call it On/Off Button Training, and should be required of all children from the age of 5, with periodic refresher courses throughout life. It is a lesson that apparently has been completely forgotten or ignored for a long time by society at large, and our culture badly needs to re-learn it.

Put most simply, this lesson says, “If you don’t like it, turn it off. Change the channel. Walk away. Mind you own business, and let other folks mind theirs.” The lack of general knowledge of this principle is, in my mind, responsible for at least three-quarters of the issues that are currently being argued in the public arena, especially that of LGBT rights, women’s rights, and separation of church and state.

Mrs. Grundy, Robert Heinlein’s archetypical busybody, and the forces of religious intolerance, have been creating a firestorm of outrage and public hullabaloo for years now about these issues, especially gay marriage. For goodness sake, why is it so hard for them to understand? If they don’t like gay marriage, then don’t marry a gay person! Sheesh! Seems pretty simple to me….

But, for some reason, a large part of humanity seems to think that what they believe should be what everyone else is forced to believe, and for the most part, they refuse to even listen to any arguments that would belie that delusion. It is impossible to reason with someone who refuses to even discuss an issue, who has closed their mind to any possible change.

So, it places all of us who would rather try to get along with folks rather than fuss and fight all the damn time to use our own On/Off Button, and switch channels, or walk away when we are confronted with their ignorance…. But, make sure you are watching your back as you turn away; they can turn vicious if they feel threatened by your indifference…. just like any small rodent…..

“And what is a good citizen? Simply one who never says, does or thinks anything that is unusual. Schools are maintained in order to bring this uniformity up to the highest possible point. A school is a hopper into which children are heaved while they are still young and tender; therein they are pressed into certain standard shapes and covered from head to heels with official rubber-stamps.” — H.L. Mencken
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“It may be irrational of me, but human beings are quite my favorite species.” — Doctor Who, Ark in Space

It probably seems to most folks reading this blog that I don’t like people very much. I tend to spend a lot of time finding and pointing out the things I see in them that I don’t like, and discussing them at nearly interminable length, which would seem to indicate a lack of affection for the species as a whole. In reality, the opposite is true…. I love people… I love watching them, listening to them, thinking about them, writing about them…. They afford me no end of intellectual stimulation, entertaining comedic genius, and fertile fields of thought and endeavor to explore, virtually and actually.

Human society and culture is an incredibly beautiful, complex tapestry of emotion and creativity; nobility, cruelty, heroes, villains, puppies, cats, love, hate, and all the rest of the things that make people what they are unfolds before us every day, growing and adding length and breadth to that tapestry of existence.

I can’t think of anything more interesting than the drama/comedy that is human history in the making…. I might wish it to be a more compassionate world, with less tyranny and oppression, without slavery and starvation. I might wish that my life would not be so complicated by ignorance and intolerance, and I might wish that the small percentage of humanity that holds the remainder in the grip of their own avarice would die horrible deaths worthy of their own evil natures.

But, I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Nor would I say that any of these changes are particularly apt to happen without many more people in the world taking an interest in them; most folks just go through life trying to get by, and not be bothered with anything more complicated, and one can’t really blame them, bless their cowardly little hearts…. My own method of dealing with how much I’d like to see reality change is to write about what I see, and what I think can be different, with the right set of attitudes.

This desire to see the changes arises out of my love for my fellow man, not from indignation or outrage, though they are present. But what I write, and what I’m trying to accomplish, is to help folks deal with life in a way that allows them more freedom, of whatever kind they wish to have, whether monetary, intellectual, religious, or physical; my motivation is to share the strength and freedom of thought that I have sought so hard to achieve… Mankind has much more potential than we are showing in our actions, and I would love to see more of it fulfilled, rather than stifled, as in current society…. we can be so much more…..

“Joy in looking and comprehending is nature’s most beautiful gift.” — Albert Einstein
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“Such bickerings to recount, met often in these our writers, what more worth is it than to chronicle the wars of kites or crows flocking and fighting in the air?” — John Milton (1608-1674) — The History of England, Book iv

Did you ever wonder why a group of crows is called a congress? I didn’t. It makes perfect sense to me…. Dark, sinister looking creatures who act in odd ways, even for birds. Their behaviors tend to lean toward stealing shiny objects from wherever, or stealing the food of people or other animals and birds. When they speak, it is in a voice that grates on the ear like fingernails on a slate. In groups, they mill around, cackling and grumbling and jostling each other, until they all fly off to different areas to carry out whatever nefarious schemes they have hatched among them. No, I have no problem envisioning a congress of crows; in fact, I believe they are in session now in Washington, D.C. ….
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“God is more interested in your future and your relationships than you are.” — Billy Graham

First, let me apologize…. I hadn’t meant to go into a rant this morning, especially about religion; sitting down is as difficult as standing up or walking, so the time it takes to express the outrage necessary to produce a rant is more than I wanted to take. But then this popped up in front of me….

After I had picked myself up from the floor and recovered my breath, I still could barely stop chuckling and giggling long enough to use the mouse to cut and paste it to this page. Now that I have, I find myself almost speechless at the sheer arrogance, the complete lack of respect shown for humanity at large by this astounding statement.

In one short phrase, this deeply disturbed man has attempted to manipulate his listeners into a complete subjugation of their will, and in doing so, implies that they are not only unworthy in a moral sense, but are not smart enough to be allowed to think for themselves. I’m surprised he didn’t ask for money in the same sentence…. You can bet he did before the end of the speech….

I remember seeing Billy Graham when I was quite young, speaking on TV to a football stadium full of enthusiastically cheering, excited, identical clones in white cotton dresses, with skirts below the knees, and blue suits, with white shirts, no vests, and skinny ties. Even at the tender age of 11 or so when I saw it, my first impression of him was of a used-car salesman, with a smarmy-looking smile at inappropriate moments, and a smooth, fawning manner of speaking that ranged from sly confidences to outraged proclamations of evil and sin, all delivered in very obviously scripted stages.

The words and phrases he used, straight out of the King James Bible, mostly, seemed to promote love and tolerance, but the underlying message was one of elitism and divisiveness, as indicated by the insistence that only those who accepted JC according to their rules would be allowed into heaven…. The rest of us would be consigned to everlasting hell for having the audacity to think differently…. It was pretty over-the-top, as far as I was concerned, though entertaining in a circus sort of way….

It is now 50 years since I saw that particular revival meeting, and Mr. Graham has continued to spew his particular brand of ignorance for that entire time. He is indeed one of the men of whom St. Francis of Assisi warned us to beware, a man of one book. And the above statement, to me, is proof of just how little he thinks of the general run of human beings. His basic message is, “You are a miserable sinner, and have no right to exist, other than at the mercy of God. You are not smart enough to keep from sinning on your own, so just shut up and listen to what you are told….”

It is certainly proof, I guess, that the world takes all kinds, for there are millions of folks out there who regard what Billy Graham says as just as much gospel as what is in the Bible…. but then in for a penny, in for a pound, I suppose…. Me, I’d rather listen to a ball game…..
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One more time unto the breach, and out again on the other side… Not bad for starting two hours late, and I only had to take about a dozen breaks to stretch and move a bit. I’ll take it…..

Hmm…. I just realized there is no poem….can’t have that… be right back….

“I have been astonished that men could die martyrs for religion — I have shuddered at it. I shudder no more — I could be martyred for my religion — Love is my religion — I could die for that…” — John Keats

Okay, so it’s not a poem… but it’s from a poet, and one of the best. I like the thought too, so it will have to do for today. I’ve been stuck with a fork, I’m done…. Y’all take care out there…..

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

gigoid

Kowabunga!

Table hopping at Godot’s public house….

Posted on May 17, 2012 by gigoid

Ffolkes,
Guilt is a powerful motivator for us humans. Whether we approve of it as an emotion, or fight to eradicate it from our emotional pantheon, it remains as effective at 61 as it was at 16. We cannot help our response to it; we may be able to control that response, and deny guilt what it wishes us to do. Denying the feeling, however, has a price, as it causes the guilt to deepen, and cause even more distress to the organism than initially felt, which is part of why it is such an effective motivator.

Guilt trips: The nuclear weapon of relationships… — Smart Bee

Why have I woken up feeling guilty? Well, it has to do with this blog, and the wonderful ffolkes who stop by regularly to read it. In the last week or so, I’ve been in a struggle to maintain equilibrium, one of the nice little gifts that having PTSD brings me. One of the side effects of this struggle is a lack of concentration, in this case taking the form of not being able to sit for long, or to concentrate for long on tasks such as reading, as the problems my mind is chewing on keep intruding into the activity I’m trying to carry on.

This makes it really hard to get to all the blog sites I want to, to read what other folks are writing, or see the pictures they’ve taken. It especially bothers me that I can’t see the work of my favorite poets (and poetesses) to keep up my quota of absorption of beauty….. (It also affects the process of creating Pearls, but we won’t get into that right now, as it just feeds the alligator, if you get my drift….)

Hence, the guilt, as I feel I am not fulfilling my duty to them. For that guilt I do not apologize; I do so, however, for not being able to get to their sites, and hope that they will understand. I’m a fast reader, and once I’m able to concentrate long enough to do so, I will get caught up to what has been done in my absence; that is without doubt.

So, to those of my friends who haven’t seen me on their site of late, please forgive me, and rest assured I will be back. It has taken ALL of my considerable mental effort to produce these Pearls each day, but soon I’ll have some extra to spread around, and will be heading over to the sites of those ffolkes who regularly check out mine first thing….and thanks for being patient with my broken brain….

There…. now that I have assuaged at least a portion of the guilt I’ve been making myself suffer from, we can get on with the day’s more important business. Shall we Pearl? I think we shall….
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“Be careless in your dress if you will, but keep a tidy soul.” — Mark Twain

“If you have a particular faith or religion, that is good. But you can survive without it if you have love, compassion, and tolerance. The clear truth of a person’s love of God is if that person genuinely shows love to fellow human beings.” — Dalai Lama

Same idea, as far as I can tell, just expressed differently. In the case of the Dalai Lama, clear, complete, and precise, naming the key elements. In the case of Mr. Twain, deceptively simple and humorous, yet equally broad in scope. One can often see the value of an idea by how well it combines with another, and in this case I think that works quite well, as we may then summarize the two to say, “Love, compassion, and tolerance make for a tidy soul,” which I think is an excellent lesson, and would make a very good koan for meditation. In practice, it holds up just as well, as I have yet to see any display of love, compassion, or tolerance that had a negative effect on reality.

Every religion, or religious philosophy, that I have studied over the years has these three ideas at their core; it is the one area where they all agree. Yet, the application of any of them remains limited to those times when expediency allows it, and very few others. In spite of the centuries of teaching these traits to their devotees, I can see very little evidence that the majority of mankind pays any attention to them outside church, unless it is somehow to their advantage to do so.

This makes what the Dalai Lama said even more relevant, when he noted that one does not NEED a religion to act with love, because it is plain that just having the religious bent does not guarantee such behavior. In fact, it seems to make it easier for people to ignore it, as they know that any transgressions or failures on their part will be forgiven….

It would do very little good for me to further chastise us as a species for our lack of moral behavior, so I’ll not. But I will say that I would wish to see more love, compassion, and tolerance at play in the world at large before I will ever recommend religion, or religious philosophy, to anyone as a cure for immorality, at least, not as one to use outside of the confines of their particular sect. The real world wouldn’t know what to do if it were ever faced with a general outbreak of morality from mankind…. it could shatter the very bonds that hold Reality together, destroying the universe, and life as we know it, for all time…. Is it worth the risk?….. Well, no matter, I don’t see much chance of a huge outpouring of love, compassion, and tolerance happening in the near future, so the risk is small…..

“Everybody can be great… because anybody can serve. You don’t have to have a college degree to serve. You don’t have to make your subject and verb agree to serve. you only need a heart full of grace. a soul generated by love.” — Martin Luther King, Jr.
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“I think trash is the most important manifestation of culture we have in my lifetime.” — Johnny Legend

When I was in my 30’s, I worked a couple of years as a trash collector in Oxnard, CA. In many ways, it was my favorite among all the jobs I’ve had in my life, even more so than being a chef, which was otherwise the most challenging and fulfilling of my chosen professions. But, working outdoors, doing hard physical work, turned out to be very fulfilling, in more ways than just the physical.

I was performing a valuable service to society, even discounting the flaws in the entire system that causes society to produce so much trash that the service is essential to the continued functioning of that culture. Without getting the trash out of the way, society would not just grind to a halt, it would create an environment much more dangerous, from a health standpoint.

This society, world-wide, produces more trash than you can imagine. The sheer bulk of what was moved in one day, in one city, continuously astounded me. Let me crunch a couple of numbers here, to give you a small idea…. I worked for a time on what is called an industrial pickup route, in a truck designed to pick up the trash contained in those large dumpsters all over in the alley ways behind businesses. This truck would hold anywhere from 7 to 10 tons of trash before needing to go to the dump site to unload. Our route usually produced enough to load up twice in one 8 hour shift, so I will average our daily load to 10 tons, for the sake of accuracy in estimation. That is 20,000 lbs. of garbage per day… remember that number.

The city where I worked had 9 of these trucks for industrial pickup, plus three others that were designed to pick up the railroad car sized dumpsters used at construction or demolition sites. Call that an average of 10 trucks a day in use, considering breakdowns and usage patterns. So, 10 trucks, each delivering 20,000 lbs./day to the dump. 200,000 lbs., or a thousand TONS per day, just from the industrial trucks.

There were also 30 household trash trucks, which added another 8 tons/day each to the total. That’s about 240 more TONS per day going into the landfill sites. This is for one average sized city, for one day, remember. 1240 tons/day. My estimates are probably a bit low, as I tried to be careful not to overestimate.

I will leave it as an exercise for the Gentle Reader to determine what these numbers say about our society, and how well we are doing at husbanding the resources of this finite planet upon which we are living. If your calculations, and ruminations, parallel my own, you’ll be depressed for a time…..
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“It’s men who make laws, and enforce them, and break them, and think the whole performance is wonderful. Most women would rather just ignore them.” — Ursula K. Le Guin

I would say that we may accept this as being true; it has points that support that assumption well. First, a woman said it, so it is most likely to be accurate in describing the woman’s view on laws. Second, a mature, well-educated woman said it, so the observation it makes about men has the advantage of long-term study of a large sample of men by a reasonably objective observer. Third, it matches my own experience, and I would guess that anyone who took the time to think about it will be forced to agree that it makes perfect sense….

This in no way is meant to provide fuel to the fire of the idea of a war between the sexes. I’ve never really bought into that, as it is counter-productive in the most basic sense, i.e., survival as a species. A war between male and female is just a term some lazy guy used because he were ashamed of not being able to understand women….

“Men are more sentimental then women. It blurs their thinking.” — Lazarus Long, from Robert A. Heinlein’s “Time Enough For Love”

As much as men like to think they are more scientific minded than women, they also lack the objectivity that women have regarding certain aspects of life. Lazarus points out the reason behind that, while at the same time giving a clue to how to deal with it in one’s self. Learning to acknowledge one’s vulnerabilities makes it much simpler to account for them, and to provide them with defensive measures, or to set them aside temporarily.

Of course, this also means that they must learn to set aside their sense of pride, which is probably misplaced in any case. Pride should only be entertained in cases of having earned it for some extraordinary effort, not for a mere state of being. (I never understood how a lot of men, and women, say they are proud to be American, when they had nothing to do with becoming one. Their parents might be entitled to some pride for having made their children good Americans, but the child has no right to pride before earning it…..)

I have been of the opinion for a long time that we need to devise a different method for choosing the leaders of society. The system as it exists is just about as worthless as it can be, as it is designed to give the power to make decisions for society to those people who are the worst at it, as they look at the task from a completely self-serving, avaricious standpoint, and tend to use it for no one’s benefit but their own.

I usually will vote for any woman candidate on a ballot that I see, just to see if any changes can be encouraged, but, unfortunately, most of the women on the ballots are there for the same reason as the men, having become convinced that assuming male characteristics is the key to success in that world.

“If men can run the world, why can’t they stop wearing neckties? How intelligent is it to start the day by tying a little noose around your neck?” — Linda Ellerbee

I’d best bring this to a close, if I am to get anything else done today, as this is an issue that can never be resolved. It can’t be resolved because it is not a problem…. it is the state of reality, and it will change all on its own. No, the problems that men and women have between them are not resolvable by thinking about the issue as a war (though Sun Tzu’s principles CAN be useful in inter-gender relations…), because as one species, that makes no sense, from any perspective.

Instead, we can try to look at the issue as one of education and communication, and try to increase our understanding of one another by honest talk…. Hey, it’s worth a try, especially as it hasn’t been tried very often before, on a large scale…. couldn’t hurt, could it?….Well, a bit of pain goes along with growth….
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Dance and Provencal song and sunburnt mirth!
Oh for a beaker full of the warm South,
Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene!
With beaded bubbles winking at the brim,
And purple-stained mouth.
— John Keats (1795-1821) — Ode to a Nightingale

Ah, Keats! In his 26 short years on this planet, he wrote poetry that changed the genre, for the better in my opinion, for all time. He wrote prolifically, thank goodness, over the few years his life allowed him the freedom to do so. It is painful to think of how much the world lost when he died so young, the victim of the ignorance of medicine of his time. I can never decide if immortality is worth the price that often must be paid to achieve it…. I need another poem….

A long, long sleep, a famous sleep
That makes no show for dawn
By stretch of limb or stir of lid, —
An independent one.

Was ever idleness like this?
Within a hut of stone
To bask the centuries away
Nor once look up for noon?
— Emily Dickinson

Okay, I’m good now…. let’s go on….
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“I always have a quotation for everything — it saves original thinking.” — Dorothy L. Sayers

If one is unfamiliar with Dorothy Sayers, this may seem a bit sarcastic, or sardonic, take your pick. But, in reality, she must have said this with a perfectly straight face, in the complete and serene knowledge that it is nonsensical, at least in its conclusion; the first part is perfectly true. I don’t know when in her life she said or wrote this, but her originality, as far as I am concerned, is not a matter of debate, having been proven beyond any such consideration by the advent of her oh, fourth or fifth novel.

Her scholarly achievements were obvious from her time at University, and though I am not familiar with her work from then, I’m sure there are indications of the vast pool of her imagination, and the untested, unknown waters that flowed through it, promising visions of completely new areas of thought and experience. These indications were later fulfilled in her writings over the following decades of the mid-twentieth century.

Her mystery novels were so rich in detail, so perfectly reflective of the culture of her age, and the society in which she lived, they provided a completely new direction to the entire field of writing mysteries, prompting changes reflected in every story by every author whose work she influenced, which conceivably includes all of them that came after.

The Lord Peter Whimsey novels, in and of themselves, would be considered a lifetime’s worth of output for any author, an output that deserved great pride of accomplishment. But, that was not the limit of her imagination, nor of the range of her interests. She also produced a complete translation of Dante’s works, considered to be the definitive standard for such books, among other scholarly and fictional works . She was an amazing woman, a truly gifted author, and one of the finest examples of what a human being can be…. in my humble opinion….
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That was fun. It’s nice to be able to finish up with a positive piece; it puts a nice cap to the effort. So nice, I’m going to let it go at that…. Y’all take care out there, and May the Metaphorse be with you….

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

gigoid

Kowabunga!

Pretty loud for the deluxe model….

Posted on May 16, 2012 by gigoid

Ffolkes,
Tab key or no tab key, I don’t do Shakespeare…. Not even with a headache, nor when I’m half asleep, as now. It’s a bit weird that ever since I started writing about how much his work bothers me, it seems to pop up in my database every third quote. Ubiquitous barely begins to describe it, which I have to believe is Murphy’s doing. Only he could arrange matters so that the very thing that most annoys me is forced upon my attention on a regular basis. Statistical mathematics won’t account for how often one of Willie’s obscure little couplets or impenetrable verses comes up in the dB…. but, he IS the world’s most published asshole, so what can I expect?

That said, it won’t be necessary now to subject you to an entire section of his work, and my shooting at it for several hundred words. This one paragraph took care of the itch… so we can get right to the important stuff for the day. I won’t go into the physical struggles extant today; they’re hard enough to deal with without trying to write about them as well.

We’ll just put on our SCUBA gear, clean off our masks, and dive right in to look for some delicious pearls for this morning’s offering. That will be a lot better than several paragraphs of complaints, n’est pas? Oui! C’est vrai! (I think that’s right; French isn’t my strong suit, outside the kitchen or the bedroom….) Any who, let’s go Pearl!….
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“If you understand, things are as they are. If you do not understand, things are as they are.” — Gensha, Zen Master

This is a wonderful koan couplet, and a very apt corollary to axiom #2 of Peruaosophy, to wit: “The Nature of the Universe is Change. Unpredictable, innovative Transformation of Reality is the Norm. If you have a problem with this, you are in for a rough ride in Life.” The connection, which may appear unclear, is actually quite logical. If one accepts the above as true, then axiom #2, in conjunction with Murphy’s presence, implies that just when one learns to accept things as they are, they change. A nasty habit, to be sure, but much like a hive of bees in one’s head, there they are…. deal.

All of us can no doubt come up with a myriad of examples of this process at work in the world at large, because, thanks to the efforts of Murphy and his army of willing helpers, each one of us is at the mercy of a Universe that cares not at all whether we understand what is going on, or if we prefer our corn flakes dry. (That’s called a humorous euphemism, and they’re rare, as a species, so take note…. If you’re not keeping a record of this stuff, you should be…) Most often, I think the examples we find would be work-related, or in some way connected to some sort of bureaucracy, as they are the Universe’s greatest allies at making us feel shitty.

“In a mature society, “civil servant” is semantically equal to “civil master.” — Lazarus Long

No matter who we are, or where we live, bureaucracies give us all a pain in the tush. Need to drive a car? A number of bureaucracies, some of them among the largest in the world, will do their best to lengthen and complicate the process of finding, buying, and licensing the car, not to mention the hoops you will need to negotiate through in order to legalize your driving at all. Need to put your kids in school? Welcome to the American educational system, which has taken over from the US Army in the use of forms in triplicate. Want to have a dog or cat companion? It may astound you to learn, as it did me, that even cats and dogs MUST be licensed; society says you can’t have one unless the fee is paid, and the animal has been duly placed on a number of lists, available to any law enforcement agency or TD&H who wants them. (TD&H = Tom, Dick, & Harry… they’re veterinarians…)

“The whole history of civilization is strewn with creeds and institutions which were invaluable at first, and deadly afterward.” — Walter Bagehot

So, the final two queries in the previous paragraph assume a larger importance, as they can teach us how to deal with bureaucracies without shooting innocent people. (Though I sometimes have doubts as to the innocence of some bureaucrats; a lot of them seem to enjoy making life difficult for others… A lot of them must be frustrated politicians, I guess, with the need to lord it over others, but can’t get the votes to get themselves elected into an office, where they can indulge their baser instincts for theft and oppression to their heart’s content…..) But, if one learns to deal with how the bureaucratic mind works, one can think their way around all the obstacles that they will throw up between us and our goal…. it’s not much, but it helps, and one should always take any help offered in situations such as this….
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“Are we at last brought to such a humiliating and debasing degradation, that we cannot be trusted with arms for our own defense? Where is the difference between having our arms in our own possession and under our own direction, and having them under the management of Congress? If our defense be the _real_ object of having those arms, in whose hands can they be trusted with more propriety, or equal safety to us, as in our own hands?” — Patrick Henry

Here is the question that those who would get rid of the Second Amendment to the US Constitution would have us ignore. There are a large number of people, otherwise nice, intelligent folks, who have decided that the American people shouldn’t have guns available to them.

Their justification is that too many criminals have access to more firepower than do the police forces in each community, and their preferred solution is to make it illegal for anyone except the police and armed forces to carry weapons of that nature. Hell, it’s already illegal to carry a knife longer than 3 inches, because the PTB are afraid someone might stab someone. GASP! You mean there are bad people out there? People who would be less than nice to everyone else? What a surprise!

In case it wasn’t clear, those last two sentences, or queries, should be infused with sarcasm if read aloud. Sarcasm is one of my natural responses to being taken for a fool, especially when it comes to human nature. Humans are violent. Period. It is in their nature. Anyone who cannot acknowledge that fact probably still believes in the tooth fairy, and is a sure candidate for early Alzheimer’s disease, because they have a very strong sense of denial.

It is a fact, and trying to deny it, or pretty it up as a “tendency” just makes those people who indulge in expressions of violence that much more dangerous. The scariest part of the whole gun issue for me is the insistence on the part of the police and those who want the guns taken away from us that THEY can be trusted to use their guns rationally, and within the limits of law, whereas the general public cannot be trusted to do so….

Now, I will ask you to think about that for a moment. Can you think of any historical period, or any culture anywhere in the world, that demonstrates any sort of support of that assertion? Has there ever been an entirely trustworthy group of policemen, anywhere? If so, please name it for me, and I will add that information into the discussion.

But, I will warn you, I am pretty widely-read and educated about world history and culture, and I cannot think of a single time in history, up to and including today’s world, wherein the police, or the government that controls them, and the armies, was more trustworthy than the populace. In fact, most of history proves the opposite, that the mere act of becoming a police officer tends to corrupt those who are accepted as such; it is a form of power over others, and as such is guaranteed to attract those who are drawn to power for its advantages.

No, I’m sorry, I can’t place any credence at all in the assumption that the police, or the government, should be considered trustworthy; not when there is NO evidence anywhere, or any when, that would indicate any such thing. The facts of the matter, and recorded history, provide innumerable examples to show how UN-trustworthy most police and political armies are, and trying to say otherwise places that person squarely in the camp of the unmitigated LIARS that are always looking for ways to take advantage of other folks.

Our country’s founding fathers spent time, energy, and blood, sweat, and tears to ensure that we would not have to put up with that sort of situation, and anyone who tries to get rid of the Second Amendment brands themselves a traitor, in my eyes…. and traitors should be shot….

Wars kill people. Governments cause wars. Let’s ban government! — Smart Bee
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PAIN: One thing, at least it proves that you’re alive! — Smart Bee

Living as I do with a certain amount of pain all the time, I can verify the accuracy of this statement. And not only is it true, it also supplies me, as it probably does for others with the same type of issues, with a good reason to learn to appreciate the pain, silly as that sounds. It’s kind of like the feeling I got one day when I was married. I was taking a short nap before getting up to go to my second job, when my wife came in & woke me to tell me I had only ten minutes before I had to leave. It didn’t occur to her that those ten minutes were all I wanted in the world right then; she just thought she was helping.

But the feeling it produced is best shown by what I thought at the time, which was, “It’s really rather a comfort to know that there will always be somebody there to wake me up when ‘they’ think I should be up… annoying, but comforting all the same.” And it may be perverse, but it’s true, nonetheless. I appreciate my pain, because it does let me know I’m alive, for sure and for certain…. If I didn’t have it, I’d expect to wake up dead some morning, and not even know it…. and that would be the final embarrassment…. 🙂
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I know a place…

I know a place where summer strives
With such a practiced frost,
She each year leads her daisies back,
Recording briefly, “Lost.”

But when the south wind stirs the pools
And struggles in the lanes,
Her heart misgives her for her vow,
And she pours soft refrains

Into the lap of adamant,
And spices, and the dew,
That stiffens quietly to quartz
Upon her amber shoe.

— Emily Dickinson

No comments…. just needed a shot of beauty, so here it is…..
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ASS, n. A public singer with a good voice but no ear. In Virginia City, Nevada, he is called the Washoe Canary, in Dakota, the Senator, and everywhere the Donkey. The animal is widely and variously celebrated in the literature, art and religion of every age and country; no other so engages and fires the human imagination as this noble vertebrate. Indeed, it is doubted by some (Ramasilus, _lib. II., De Clem._, and C. Stantatus, _De Temperamente_) if it is not a god; and as such we know it was worshiped by the Etruscans, and, if we may believe Macrobious, by the Cupasians also. Of the only two animals admitted into the Mahometan Paradise along with the souls of men, the ass that carried Balaam is one, the dog of the Seven Sleepers the other. This is no small distinction. From what has been written about this beast might be compiled a library of great splendor and magnitude, rivaling that of the Shakespearean cult, and that which clusters about the Bible. It may be said, generally, that all literature is more or less Asinine.

“Hail, holy Ass!” the quiring angels sing;
“Priest of Unreason, and of Discords King!”
Great co-Creator, let Thy glory shine:
God made all else, the Mule, the Mule is thine!”
G.J.
— Ambrose Bierce, “The Devil’s Dictionary”

As I’ve previously demonstrated, I am a big fan of nonsense; something about it just appeals to me. As Willie Wonka said, “A little nonsense now and then, is cherished by the wisest men.” This may be one reason I’ve been able to write so much in the last few months about such serious subjects, as I tend to throw in some nonsense to break the pattern of seriousness.

Mary Poppins had that much right about the teaspoon of sugar and the medicine, and what’s good enough for Mary Poppins is good enough for me. Though I can’t claim to approach her status of “practically perfect in every way” I think that sharing her appreciation of whimsical interludes in life at least shows some sense and style. And what’s the point of going through life if you can’t do it with some style?….
___________________________________

All in all, not a bad effort, I think. If nothing else, it’s been fun, of a sort, trying to write around the headache and back pain. Yes, I know, it’s a poor definition of fun, but we take what we can get, or in this case, what we can afford. It looks to be a busy day, as the outside world has intruded enough that I will need to make a trip to the post office. With no further ado, I shall bid thee adieu until tomorrow. Y’all take care out there, and May the Metaphorse be with you…..

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

gigoid

Kowabunga!

Prudish pianos sit, forlorn in the mist….

Posted on May 11, 2012 by gigoid

Ffolkes,
The beast has fallen from the mizzen mast, and the jib is down. I was awakened by the laughing of clowns, injecting the first cup of coffee intravenously, to save time. It struck me as I stretched prior to beginning that I had not brushed the cactus, but it looked as if I had. Such thoughts being extraneous to our purpose here, they shall be deleted. Such is the fate of unwanted, unloved cogitations, cast adrift at their most vulnerable moment, salient only to themselves. Thus it began, strangely tart, but uncommonly picturesque. The band refused to play Mozart, so Copeland had to do….

If the above is any indication, it might be a good idea to buckle up…. the ride today promises to be a bit unsteady. Should be fun though… I haven’t felt this much strong whimsy in a while…. I can see the priests, pundits, and bankers running off screaming already, deathly afraid of my savage wit…. Sure, that’s the ticket…. Before I slip entirely under the waves of insanity here, let’s get on with the Pearl, shall we?…. It would be best, I think….
___________________________________

All things considered, insanity may be the only reasonable alternative. — Smart Bee

This explains this morning’s attitude… I must have been percolating this idea in the back of my mind all night, and woke up with it still buzzing around in there… It makes sense, in a perverted sort of fashion. Especially after looking at what I wrote yesterday. Oh, not that it wasn’t good….in fact, it was one of my better efforts in a while, over 2500 words, all fairly potent. No, what I refer to is the subject matter of which I wrote. A lot of it consisted of indictments of mankind or society for crimes against citizens, serving to show just how bad things are when viewed pessimistically, and how insanity in the face of that seems almost necessary, to maintain any scrap of self-control. Insane may be crazy, but it IS a choice to stay true to oneself, rather than to give in to the insanity someone else may thrust upon us.

People often wonder why there are so many disturbed folks out there, which amuses me no end…. How could it be otherwise? The pressures on every person alive in today’s madcap world is intense and unrelenting; what surprises me is how FEW truly insane people there are to be found outside institutions. Most of the really, truly mad ones are in those institutions, where they have discovered they are safe from the depredations that society forces upon everyone outside the fences. They receive three hots and a cot, and all they have to do is keep from making any sense when the doctor is around, or when anybody with a nursing license is watching, and they have no worries. Free food, free TV, medical care, and all on somebody else’s dime. What a deal!

So, don’t look down your nose at those among us who have chosen the path of insanity in order to cope with the world at large. They may be on to something…. they certainly have a lot less to worry about than most of us do. All they have to do is be creative in their delusions, let out the inner demons now and again, dance a jig in the common room each night, and they can be just as happy as a clam at high tide….

“Once you accept his assumptions even a madman seems reasonable.” — Smart Bee
___________________________________
~ A wonderful poem by Audrey Hepburn ~ Written when asked to share her “beauty tips.” It was read at her funeral years later.

For attractive lips, speak words of kindness.
For lovely eyes, seek out the good in people.
For a slim figure, share your food with the hungry.
For beautiful hair, let a child run his/her fingers through it once a day.
For poise, walk with the knowledge that you never walk alone.
People, even more than things, have to be restored, renewed, revived, reclaimed, and redeemed; never throw out anyone.
Remember, if you ever need a helping hand, you will find one at the end of each of your arms.
As you grow older, you will discover that you have two hands; one for helping yourself, and the other for helping others.

I trot this out now and again, just because it is as beautiful as she was…..
___________________________________

Political tags – such as royalist, communist, democrat, populist, fascist, liberal, conservative, and so forth – are never basic criteria. The human race divides politically into those who want people to be controlled and those who have no such desire. — Robert Heinlein

This is a truism in my world. I read it many years ago, and after examining it extensively, have found it to be a perfect reflection of reality as I perceive it. It is a very useful statement for the understanding of all sorts of concepts regarding what happens in the political arena, serving as it does as sort of a program, allowing one to identify the players quickly and accurately, according to the role they assume and display for viewing by the public.

What is unfortunate about its veracity is how it seems to work in the modern world. It seems to me that of the two identified types of people, only the first type, those who wish everyone to be controlled, are the ones in office, or running for office. By nature and inclination, the second type does not involve themselves any more than necessary in the political process; it offends their sensibilities to even have to watch it played out in the public arena.

They do whatever is required to maintain their own independence from excessive control by others; that also is natural to them. This, sadly, leaves a great portion of humanity to its own devices, allowing the beloved ruling class, comprised solely of those who wish to control others, to abuse and oppress them to their heart’s content.

Ah well, Mr. Heinlein would suggest that those folks are only getting what they deserve for refusing to use what little intelligence they have to protect themselves, and, in at least that sense, he is correct. It just makes me sad to see so much pain and anguish among them when it is so unnecessary; I’m a sucker for hard-luck cases.

In the end, I suppose it doesn’t matter at all in a cosmic sense; we all will do whatever it is we choose to do, and if that choice is to wear blinders, and bend over when asked, well, we would get exactly what we deserve from life…. Not me, though…. I like my butt just the way it is, thank you very much….

Know the enemy and know yourself; in a hundred battles you will never be in peril. When you are ignorant of the enemy but know yourself, your chances of winning or losing are equal. If ignorant both of your enemy and of yourself, you are certain in every battle to be in peril.”
— Sun Tzu (fl. c. B.C. 500)
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“If a man will begin with certainties, he shall end in doubts; but if he will be content to begin with doubts, he shall end in certainties.” — Francis Bacon

Francis was a pretty smart man. Smart enough to have folks suspect him of writing a lot of Will Shakespeare’s works, apparently during his copious free time between joshing with the queen and the other courtesans, writing his philosophical treatises, and abusing the peasants. Of course, we see a lot of this quotes lying around, gathering dust, and a short examination of them reveals why…. most of them bore the reader to tears before they get to the point of what he wrote.

Yet this short little piece ascribed to him indicates more, as it is startlingly clear and absolutely accurate. It must have been written in his early years, as it also is in direct opposition to a lot of his later writings, which tend to rely on faith and religious principles he should have avoided altogether. As a matter of fact, now that I mention it, his writing over time seemed to become increasingly heavy and obscure, reflecting the confusion in his mind, no doubt, created by the disparity between the above obviously rational line of thought and the religious doctrine with which he became enamored in later years.

His later writing also demonstrates just how true the above line is, as over time, as he came to believe in more certainties, his writing and mind became more filled with doubts. In his youth, when he allowed himself to entertain doubt, he was clearly more certain of what he knew.

A good example of what to avoid, I would say, if one wishes to maintain any rationality in their thinking. It sure did mess up poor Frankie’s work…. I mean, who would WANT to be known as Willies ghost-writer, anyway?…..
___________________________________

The path is the way.
The way is the truth.
It is found, but not held;
walked on, but not followed.
— Tao Teh Ching

When I was 16, my father took me on a trip to visit the UC Berkeley campus, to see if I really wanted to attend there after high school. We drove up from our home near the Central Coast of California to the burgeoning megalopolis on the east side of the SF Bay where Berkeley sits, with my eyes and mind on overdrive, taking in a completely new landscape, one completely foreign to my naive mind, which had spent most of the previous years living in a town of 750 souls. In retrospect, I don’t think that I could have made any other decision, as I was in the throes of intellectual ecstasy, taking in vast amounts of new perceptions and experiences as fast as I could swivel my head.

One of the places we visited on campus was the bookstore at the student union. Having been a book addict since the age of 9 or so, it was like falling into heaven. My dad had a hard time getting me to leave to go look at other stuff, as I was entranced by all the books I’d never seen.

On a table near the check-out stands, on a clearance table, was a slim book with a beautiful black and white image of a typical Chinese painting of mountains with bamboo shoots in the foreground, and some ideograms running down the side. The English title of the book, at the top, read merely, “Tao Teh Ching”. Visually, it was the most beautiful book I’d ever seen. Little did I know how much that simple tome would change my whole life, and the way I viewed the world.

It goes without saying at this point that I bought the book. On the drive home, I lost myself in Lao Tzu’s 88 verses that comprise the Tao Teh Ching, and have been lost in the beauty and truth they provide ever since. “The Way that can be known is not the true Way.” That is the first line of the book, as per that translation, and my mind was freed from all its previous restraints.

It was as if I had been awakened from a long sleep, and awoke with eyes so clear that only the truth could be seen. My father, I’m sure, thought I’d lost all sanity as I read, gasped, and made little moans of awakening surprise at the things that the book showed me. It is a day I will never forget, and one that, in my mind, set me on the scholar/warrior’s path that I have walked to this day…..
___________________________________

I suppose by this time I should be accustomed to my own lack of organization when it comes to these Pearls. When I awoke this morning, an hour later than I thought I would (thank goodness for an hour of sleep that I wasn’t expecting!….), I was, as usual, unsure of where we might end up. As usual, I needn’t have worried, as it all came out okay, and didn’t take all that long. I’m content. Well, as content as I ever am, anyway. So, y’all take care out there, and May the Metaphorse be with you…..

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

gigoid

Kowabunga!

gigoid

Ned Moore, aka gigoid, is a 70 year-old, (!!!… When did that happen?….), retired dilettante, who would rather read than eat, most days. His first blog, "gigoid’s folly", has been emailed out to folks he knows for about 18 years now. He still considers it his best defense against angst, and the ever-present specter of sheer insanity..... Due to rigorous curmudgeon training requirements, he has discontinued his Facebook presence, but still indulges in the occasional Twitter session... In essence, he's socialized, but, not overly sociable; all labels and stereotypes are forbidden in his presence... and he doesn't care what anyone thinks about that..... In fact, he doesn't want to talk anymore.... If you feel you MUST contact gigoid, his email address is: alphagigoid@gmail.com You can go read now.... Go on, beat it.... gigoid, the dubious

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