Tag Archives: Serendipity

Once titillated, thrice shy….

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Ffolkes,
Bilious clouds of smoke, greenish-yellow in the light of the street lamps, poured from the windows, while screams echoed off the walls across the way. As I stood in a shadowed doorway, I spied a figure in a window of the burning building’s second story, hooded, carrying a small bundle. As I watched the panicky movements, the figure suddenly tossed the bundle out of the window, where it fell softly down, almost seeming to float.

Without a thought, my legs moved, propelling me across the street to a point below the window, just in time to catch the bundle, which plopped into my arms lightly, without harm. As light from a nearby street lamp fell upon the bundle, I moved the covering blanket, to reveal the face of a small female child, with somber dark eyes that looked directly at mine, seemingly reading my innermost thoughts, and finding them to be distasteful….. as I looked back into those ancient eyes in a girl’s face, she spoke, “Well, are you just going to stand there, or will you flee now, assassin?…..

Hmm…. seems our assassin friend has found himself in a bit of an unusual situation, doesn’t it? Too bad we’re going to leave him to figure it all out himself… I’m okay with it, but it doesn’t really strike me just right, so I doubt if I’ll ever use those precise opening paragraphs for anything…. Always good practice though, and a good way to loosen up both fingers and brain cells….. works for me, anyway…..

That said, we should probably get right to the Pearl….. yesterday was an exhausting one for me. Nothing to do with WP, other than the 200 emails I’m now getting every day to deal with….. I had some errands that took me all over town on buses, a slow way to get around, and tiring for a old fart such as I’m turning into these days…. it’s a slow, insidious process, but the effects of age are nonetheless relentless in their advances.

Oh well, no complaints, just tired today…. fortunately, none of my physical degradations have affected my mind as yet, so let’s go give that a work-out, shall we?….. A-Pearling we will go……
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“Authority has every reason to fear the skeptic, for authority can rarely survive in the face of doubt.” — Robert Lindner

A few days ago, another blogger here on WP, odie mama, (http://eyesofodysseus.wordpress.com)  asked me a question. Well, it was more of an observation with a question mark behind it, but, …. it intrigued me. She said that even though I write about serious subjects with a cynical approach, a feeling of hope seemed to infuse the tenor of what is written, and asked me to comment on that….. It has taken me a couple of days for the idea to percolate, and this morning I found the pearl that helps to explain it, to me, and to her…..

I believe that the hope she is perceiving lies in the truth of the above quotation. The most powerful weapon of reason we have as humans is Doubt. Some may question that assertion, but to my mind, it is clearly the case. Nothing is more valuable in our search for the truth among all the lies we find strewn in our path; examining any claim with doubtful eyes is our best defense against the manipulations perpetrated upon us by other unscrupulous people. And those people whom I like to call our beloved ruling class know this…..

They know that when the people are informed, when education is free and universal, and the press is free, the task of manipulating the common man becomes much more difficult. This  annoys them no end, so much so that they spend a lot of effort trying to remove or restrict anything in society that will promote doubt among the general populace. Cut educational funding, promote religious agendas that thrive on ignorance, dress up their lies in fancy clothes to look like truth; anything that will make folks refrain from thinking is good, in their eyes.

And that is the hope that is so apparent here….. though I speak of serious subjects, and lament their prevalence, and effects on people, Doubt is ever-present. I tend to challenge ANYTHING said by a talking head, especially if they are a politician, a priest, a pastor, or an imam. Whatever…. they are all just trying to foster and maintain their own version of slavery, so, as far as I am concerned, they deserve none of my respect, nor any of my mercy…. and they will find none of it here….. That is the hope that I spread….. Doubt….. a powerful ally on the Scholar Warrior’s Path….. and one hated and feared by all those in power, or who seek power over others…..

The good want power, but to weep barren tears.
The powerful goodness want : worse need for them.
The wise want love; and those who love want wisdom.
— P.B. Shelley, “Prometheus Unbound”

— How many assholes does it take to change a light bulb?  None, assholes never see the light anyway. — Smart Bee
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“A shelf of classics for our young adults: Tolkien, Hesse, Casteneda, Kerouac, Salinger, Tom Robbins, and “The Last Whole Earth Catalog”. — Edward Abbey

Gosh! I didn’t realize I was so well-grounded in the classics! Not only have I read at least one book by each of these authors, but, I’ve read more than one by all but one of them, and…. I read the entire book printed on the margins of the pages of the “Catalog”, narrated charmingly, and so effectively, by the vintage, loyal, stalwart, inadvertently abused, but well-loved VW bus, Urge, who detailed the times and travels of the people chiefly responsible for the creation of the Catalog itself……

“How can they say my life isn’t a success? Have I not for more than sixty years got enough to eat and escaped being eaten?” — Cindy Adams
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“The wise man can pick up a grain of sand and envision a whole universe.  But the stupid man will just lie down on some seaweed and roll around until he’s completely draped in it.  Then he’ll stand up and go, “Hey, I’m Vine Man.” — Deep Thoughts, by Jack Handey

Now, that’s deep!   🙂   Deep enough that I hope you were wearing high tops…. but I do like the metaphor of the wise man and the grain of sand; hadn’t heard that in a while…. Cute, and lots of whimsy points… but not quite right….

“Whenever anybody says he’s struggling to become a human being I have to laugh because the apes beat him to it by about a million years. Struggle to become a parrot or something.” — Jack Handey, “Deep Thoughts”

More approximate wisdom from Jack….   🙂   Admit it, you smiled…. Struggle to be a parrot, indeed!…. clever. Not quite what I’m looking for yet, though…. Onward…..

Real knowledge is to know the extent of one’s ignorance. — Confucius

Not verified as truly the words of Master C,, but reasonable; it sounds like him. And that’s more like it, I think; we keep getting closer to a real pearl…. one more shot at the big money, ffolkes, then we’ll move on….

“A man’s gotta know his limitations.” — Dirty Harry [Clint Eastwood] in “Magnum Force”

Hmm…. I guess it just goes to show, you never know where you may find something unexpectedly valuable…. like a pearl heretofore hidden in the persona of a macho, maladjusted cop with PTSD, and a penchant for blowing his problems to bits with a big gun…. probably very stress relieving. It would be for me, for sure…. And… I think that the journey to get here, if you will look back over it, can be considered the true lesson, as is always the case when considering journeys, and destinations……
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“When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives mean the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a warm and tender hand. The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate now knowing, not curing, not healing and face with us the reality of our powerlessness, that is a friend who cares.” — Henri Nouwen, Out of Solitude

I am blessed with at least seven people in my life who fit into this mold, not including my children, who would also fit the given parameters. I’d also like to believe that my brothers and sisters, all four of them, would be there if needed; I know I would for them, and will be if necessary. We’ve all never been terribly close since moving apart, but also have always felt and shown loyalty, and love for each other.

So, that makes me a pretty lucky man, all in all, and I know it…. it humbles me, constantly, when I consider it, and it is a thought that carries me through some rough mental battles with myself, and with reality. Even if I don’t call for help, I know it would be there if I asked, and that can be enough…..

“The road to a friend’s house is never long.” — Danish proverb
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“Trouble rather the tiger in his lair than the sage amongst his books. For to you Kingdoms and their armies are things mighty and enduring, but to him they are but toys of the moment, to be overturned by the flicking of a finger.” — Chinese proverb

This proverb is one that has ruled my existence, from the moment I first came across it in my early teens. In one aspect, it is a concept that supports and verifies what I wrote above about Doubt, and to my mind serves as solid evidence as to the truth of what I said there. This statement has also served me well as a social tool in my work, in every field I’ve embraced, if you can believe it. On a number of occasions, in mental hospitals, restaurants, and computer rooms, I have printed this onto a chalkboard, or an easel being used for a presentation at a meeting, just as a random act of intellectual subversion, and each time, the results have far surpassed whatever I had envisioned.

The sight of this quote displayed wherever I put it never failed to produce a response from all who read it, and those responses often painted a clearer picture of that person’s personality than anything else they ever said or did. Some would read it, and assume a puzzled frown, trying to assimilate its meaning. Depending on their success or failure, they would then smile and go on with whatever they were doing with a sense of calm and serenity… Or, others would frown in thought, then say something akin to “Pshaw!” and shake their heads as if to clean off their shiny coats of mud. Still others would widen their eyes, and look around for a pen, furiously scribble it down, and rush off to show it to someone else…. A very few would read it, and say something such as, “Oh, what a nice reminder….”  These folks were generally the ones who were my friends….

To my mind, this approach to life, that of a scholar as opposed to a warrior, is the only choice I could make to be happy, and true to my nature. I acknowledge within myself that violence is a part of my nature, as it is for all of us naked apes; it is not something that is wise to overlook. But that part of my nature has ever been dominated by the part of me that HAS to have thoughts to ponder, the part that needs to read and absorb the perceptions of other minds, the part of me that would literally die if I did not embrace it as my purpose, my raison d’etre. I can no more stop reading and thinking than I can stop breathing, or eating, or any other essential life function…. it’s the way I’m made, and it has always been a joy to me to know this, and to give free rein to my intellect, refusing to limit its consumption to any single viewpoint or system of beliefs….

And so, I walk the Scholar Warrior’s Path; I walk that path with my books close at hand, pausing often to read, and consider…. the path is much clearer ahead of me that way, and I walk it with joy…. seeking Truth, and Beauty, and Love.  I’ve found all three, and life is good, no matter what is happening around me, or to me…. So Be It…..
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“My Teacher said that that that that that man used is incorrect.” — Smart Bee

I love the English language!  You have to say it out loud, but if you do, you can see that the above sentence is absolutely correct usage….. brilliant!  Not worth a whole pearl, which is why it is here at the end. But, it had to be included…. just because….

I think that went well…. no major foul-ups I’m aware of…. of course, proofing is yet to come, but, it all looks good to go for the time being. With a start like this, the day promises to be fairly productive and agreeably pleasant. Who knows?  Maybe the woman I am to fall in love with, for the last time in my life, will walk into my life today…. not bloody likely, given current indicators, but, hey, worth a moment or two of anticipation before putting it back into the “I’m Patiently Awaiting” file, where it doesn’t distract me from the matters at hand….

On that note, I will put this to bed, in the vernacular of journalism….. Y’all take care out there, and May the Metaphorse  Be With You…. (say it out loud, it sounds better…. it’s a hard “s”….)     🙂

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

gigoid

Kowabunga!

Even aged literati won’t bow or scrape before six….

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Ffolkes,
At 0607 in the morning, I don’t expect my reaction time to be at maximum, nor am I be surprised to find my mind less than fully awake and prepared for immediate use, at least not for any use of sustained duration, or of a complex nature. But, it is a bit embarrassing to sit here and watch the screen-saver come on, while vacantly staring at the screen, and to still be frantically searching the empty, echoing corridors of my thus-far uninspired mind for an opening statement or idea. I have the screen saver set to come on after 3 minutes of no user activity, so I am forced to admit that I sat here and blankly stared for at least that long. Pathetic…..

On further reflection, however, I can see that having the screen-saver pop on has acted as some sort of release, or stimulation, if you will, and the words are now flowing. I guess serendipity comes in different colors and shapes after all…. whatever the case may be, I’ll take it.

I’ve learned not to question such little gifts from the universe; if I did, they might cease to happen, and so far, they’ve been responsible for some of my best work (and, in fact, have often been responsible for the creation of ANY work at all…..). Now, if I could only see what to write about next, I’d be good to go…… can’t have everything, I suppose. As Steven Wright said, “Of course you can’t have everything. Where would you put it all?”

Since I already lack sufficient storage space, we’ll just get on with the business at hand….. shall we Pearl?…
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We cannot direct the wind, but we can adjust the sails. — Proverb

This is the sort of pearl that is much, much deeper than it appears at first glance. (Note: It seems common to find the most complex and deep issues described or related in very short sentences. Hmm…. probably something to do with K.I.S.S., which the universe believes in strongly…) Applied as a metaphor for human interactions with reality, the proverb assumes an even greater degree of relevance, as it implies both choice and hope. Both are always present, but not always in view; such aphorisms as this can help one to find where they are standing, hidden in plain sight…

It is clear to most by now that reality does not adjust to our desires; any adjustments made must be on our part, as we have absolutely no power to change any aspect of reality other than our response to it. A hard lesson, one that many never learn, or come to terms with, and one which guarantees they will find life to be one long struggle, as they spend their days in doomed attempts to make what is into what they wish it to be. To use the analogy provided, they never learn to trim the sails of their vessel, and find themselves constantly fighting with, and cursing, the wind, never realizing their own lack of understanding is what sends them into uncharted waters.

Thus, from simplicity does great wisdom arise; to reach our desired destination in life, one must learn to trim and adjust the sails of our vessel, to make the best use of the wind that the universe sends in our direction. Or, more plainly, we can only make changes to ourselves, not to reality. Learning this one simple lesson can turn a life out of balance completely around, and give it the direction and stability it has ever sought, enabling the most troubled soul to sail into the light, and out of the darkness that engulfs those who argue with reality…..
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“I think the sky is blue because it’s a shift from black through purple to blue, and it has to do with where the light is.   You know, the farther we get into darkness, and there’s a shifting of color of light into the blueness, and I think as you go farther and farther away from the reflected light we have from the sun or the light that’s bouncing off this earth, uh, the darker it gets … I think if you look at the color scale, you start at black, move it through purple, move it on out, it’s the shifting of color.  We mentioned before about the stars singing, and that’s one of the effects of the shifting of colors.” — Pat Robertson, The 700 Club

At last! The true, unacknowledged, but obvious, proof of how the concept of Christian Science came to be…… This has to be one of the finest examples I’ve ever seen of a man who, a) had no idea when he started to speak of what he meant to say, and b) opted to “fake it” and just make something up. Pat has apparently been listening to his own hype, and is convinced that, if it comes out of his mouth, it must be divinely inspired….

I imagine that the God that Pat claims to speak for lets him get away with shit like this because He is too busy laughing His divine Ass off to do anything about it. No point in throwing the lightning bolt too long after the causal event; no one would get the lesson. Plus, why give up such a cheap form of entertainment?….. It’s not like Hee Haw, or Laugh In, is still on the air….. and I imagine even God needs a break every so often from listening to Pat, or Oral, or Jim-boy, to keep from frying them in their tracks on live TV…. even He thinks twice about scaring the cattle, er, paying customers, er, congregation……
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“The greater your need to make a good catch, the greater the probability your partner will deliver his worst throw.  (If you can’t touch it, you can’t trick it.)” — The Ninth Commandment of Frisbee — Dan Roddick

Ah, sweet memory! I’ve previously mentioned my status as a hippie, forged during the late 1960’s in Berkeley, at the UC where I attended post-high-school. My life and times in the birthplace of hippie culture during this era of societal change imbued me with a true and complete set of hippie skills and attributes. I play guitar and sing folk music. I wear my hair long. I am politically active, dedicated to peace, brotherhood, and love. And, I am a master of the Frisbee. Well, used to be. Now I’d probably throw myself into a world of hurt if I even made the simplest toss, even if I warmed up first. But, back in the day, (what does that mean, exactly? Which day?….. slang is funky sometimes….) trick catches were one of my specialties, and I can attest to the accuracy of the Ninth Commandment.

One of my best tricks involved a softly hovering throw that approaches the catcher on a level about waist high. I would first kick the disc in the center, on the fly, knocking it straight up, but keeping it spinning in a hover. I’d then step under it, and bump it as it came down, right in the center again, with the top of my head. It went up again, and as it came down, still spinning, I’d strike it with one finger, again in the center, to send it back up again. On the fourth time the disc descended, I would catch it on one finger, in the center, and watch it spin there until I flipped it up and grabbed it with a flourish, or just let the spin run out and let it hang on the finger as it stopped.

In reading back over that passage, I can see that it would definitely be more impressive to see than it is to read…… but, it sure felt good when I nailed the trick, and it invariably impressed any girls in the vicinity; at 19 or 20 years-old, that was key….. especially if I hit the immediate throw back to my compatriot with a double-skip, right to his moving target…. Always a crowd-pleaser, the double-skip…
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A programmer from a very large computer company went to a software conference and then returned to report to his manager, saying: “What sort of programmers work for other companies? They behaved badly and were unconcerned with appearances.  There hair was long and unkempt and their clothes were wrinkled and old. They crashed our hospitality suite and they made rude noises during my presentation.”

The manager said: “I should have never sent you to the conference. Those programmers live beyond the physical world. They consider life absurd, an accidental coincidence. They come and go without knowing limitations. Without a care, they live only for their programs. Why should they bother with social conventions?”

They are alive within the Tao.

Yesterday, a short discussion was posted here on the subject of hacker culture, and the myths and philosophy popular among those who program computers, the ones who write the programs the rest of us use every day…. This pseudo koan exemplifies the type of thinking that permeates the culture, perfectly describing how true hackers see themselves.

As a group, hackers are highly educated in comparison to the general population, and share a certain predilection for science fiction and fantasy literature and media, mythology, philosophy, (particularly Zen Buddhism and Taoism), and properly spoken and written English (very important in computer programming; computers are VERY literal, and precise use of the language is a key element of creating successful programs, i.e. programs that actually perform as requested….) Hacker jargon assumes a deep knowledge of the subjects pertinent to them, and shows not vicious, but amused disdain for “normals”. Ambitions among hackers involve successful hacks, or writing the code for a major OS, or some other piece of programming that achieves industry-wide acceptance and acclimation; to become a demi-god is the ultimate goal, one whose name is familiar to anyone who writes code.

Contrary to many segments of society at large, where too much education creates mistrust, and the most admired qualities are simplicity and acquiescence to being average, in hacker culture, complexity, elegance, wit, a defiant roguishness, and strong math skills are qualities admired by all, and the status of demi-god is sought after assiduously by every individual who considers themselves to be a true programmer…. and demi-gods aren’t required, or expected, to act like normal folks….

“The computer programmer is a creator of universes for which he alone is responsible. Universes of virtually unlimited complexity can be created in the form of computer programs.” — Joseph Weizenbaum, _Computer Power and Human Reason_
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“And if it please you, so; if not, why, so.” — William Shakespeare (1564-1616), The Two Gentlemen of Verona — Act ii, Sc. 1

Okay, so we all know how Will the Thrill failed to make my most wanted list by now, so I won’t go into that. But, more evidence in my argument’s favor keeps cropping up, and this is a fine example. Though I know it is likely a bit clearer if taken in context to the surrounding action in the play, still, this line is just about as obscure as can be. I’m certain that the reaction from the audiences who first were exposed to this was the same as mine; I immediately thought, upon reading it, “HUH? What did you say?” My next thoughts were, in approximate order, “Let me outta here! I’m late for an appointment! I hear my mom calling! I’m on a mission from God! Anything! Just don’t make me listen to that again!”

Perhaps I can make myself clearer re: this opinion by making a small analogy. If Will The Middle English Thrill were alive today, who do you think he would most resemble, in terms of his fame, his literary and/or entertainment skills and accomplishments, and his overall status as a celebrity?  In my inner eye, a picture of Michael Jackson and Madonna fight over who is to pop up first. That frightening image is replaced by Stephen King, which is even more frightening. In a final attempt to find an acceptable comparison that is also accurate enough for my purposes, my third thought was “Aha!” followed by an old image of Yoko Ono sitting with John Lennon on a white bed….. I suppose John Lennon isn’t such a bad comparison, but Yoko Ono? Please… spare me…. and please spare me from any more Shakespeare…. that overblown twit….
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Well, it’s another fine mess I’ve created here, now, isn’t it? Fear not, I’m nothing if not accommodating; you’ll find a box of handi-wipes by the door as you leave the building. I’ve found it to be a well-appreciated amenity after sessions such as this one. Just remember, please, to dispose of them in the proper receptacle, also placed near the exit door for your convenience, and painted a bright orange so you can’t miss it…..

In the words of the prophet, ta ta, then, luvs….. y’all take care out there…..

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

gigoid

Kowabunga!

Awash in hours of unnamed dreams….

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Ffolkes,
Starts with S, ends with T, says howdy in between….. sorry, no, I don’t know where that came from. I know what it says (C’mon, it’s easy…. s_ _t, in between is hi (howdy) = well, you know… )  But, I have no clue as to why it was on the screen when I sat down; I did have a nightcap last night, and I was pretty wiped out tired when I poured it. Maybe I got a burst of inspiration from the whiskey, and put that thought down just before falling into bed; I can see that happening.

But, in my morning state of consciousness, unaffected by the questionable creative urges that the Beast often brings, I haven’t a clue why my mind thought it was either cute enough, or clever enough, to start out the day with. I suppose it will just have to get filed in that folder of things in this universe to which I will never know the answers…..

Now that the initial nonsense is out of the way, REAL panic can set in; my mind is currently a vast, empty plain, without even the saving grace of shiny objects off in the far distance to draw the eye and attention away from the absolutely deafening silence and lack of…. well, anything, to either see, or to write about…..

I may have to resort to an old writer’s trick, of writing about not writing, or writing about the fact that there is nothing to write about….. which confuses me already, and I haven’t even gone there yet…. I’ll keep scouring my brain, something will come up, it always does…. I’ll just go diving, and it’ll be waiting for me when I get back…. that’s the ticket….. see ya in a while….

Practice good mirth control — use a conundrum.

Sorry, an early pearl here…. I’m not going to use it for a discussion, but I like it, a lot, so I’m putting it here, out of the way, where you and I can enjoy its sharp wit, excellent vocabulary, and finely turned phraseology without the distraction of my chatter…. well, we could have, had I not proceeded to chatter anyway…. oh well, onward….

Okay, I’m  done…. let’s go Pearl, before it all gets away from me…. again….
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“I have realized that the past and future are real illusions, that they exist in the present, which is what there is and all there is.” — Alan Watts

Alan Watts may be one of the least known major influences on modern thought in society today. I first encountered his writings in the late 1960’s when I left home for college at UC Berkeley. It would be hard in one of these short discussions to fully describe the effect of his work on my as yet inexperienced philosophical education. Now, though, many years later, having read the work of many different philosophers, and explored extensively the written tomes of the religions of the world, I can still say that his ideas, and his manner of expressing those ideas, remains high on my list of preferred systems of thought. It is also clear to me after all this time that the content of his work has the highest percentage of concepts that I agree with, unreservedly…..

The statement included above is one of those statements. This is deep, so deep t’is impossible to entirely plumb its depths, without first learning to “breathe water”.  And yet, it is so simple, and so clear, that the most naive and simple man can easily absorb the lesson, and use it in life to his advantage. It is typical, in my mind, of the type of philosophical statement to which Alan was prone, and why he has been a major influence on society, though only a few people can tell you who he is. His knowledge is so penetrating, and his words so simple, and so apt, that one learns lessons while completely unaware of being taught. He knew the secrets of the ancient sages, and lived a life in harmony with the earth, as few in today’s world are capable of living…..
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“A conclusion is the place where you got tired of thinking.” — Matz’s Maxim

Upon reflection, although this is a fine pearl, I’m not going to discuss it now. I’m already tired, so here is my conclusion on this: he’s got a good point. Now, let’s start this section over…..

“A life directed chiefly toward the fulfillment of personal desires sooner or later always leads to bitter disappointment.” — Albert Einstein

Now, there’s a pearl! Albert Einstein is generally regarded as one of mankind’s most brilliant members, but most people do not have the capability to see how or why this is so, other than knowing that he was responsible for E = MC².  But if one takes the time to look past this bit of common knowledge, and look at some of the statements of philosophy and life he is reported to have uttered, it becomes clearer that the key to his genius lay in the simplicity of his thought processes, not in their complexity.

Albert looked at the world, and the universe at large, through eyes that refused to look away from the simple elegance of the underlying nature of reality, instead focusing on the small, basic thoughts, ideas, or physical properties that best described what is real and true.  He also did not add superfluous judgments or unseen factors to what he perceived, instead again focusing on that part of the concept that is important, not those parts that are extraneous to the purpose of increasing understanding of the world around us.  He thus was able to see further into the nature of reality than is common to the rest of us, who are prone to complicate our perceptions with our prejudices and or misconceptions.

The above statement is a perfect example of this quality; it looks directly at human nature, and shows us how our own attitudes and desires can potentially be the cause of our own difficulties in life, thus giving us the opportunity to turn our efforts in a direction that will ultimately be more beneficial. The statement clearly lays the responsibility for the tenor of our lives right in our own laps, where it belongs, but does so without condemnation or insult, merely dispassionate truth. He was truly one of humanity’s greatest treasures, and his words will, hopefully, continue to help guide people through life far into to the future…. provided there is one….. but that’s a different subject altogether…..

“I don’t know what your destiny will be, but one thing I do know: the only ones among you who will be really happy are those who have sought and found how to serve.” — Albert Schweitzer

(I know, I know….. not the right Albert. But, it was deliberate, and I’m just doing what Murphy wants….. as is sometimes common, as soon as I finished the above section, the absolute perfect ending pearl popped up. I think Herr Schweitzer was thinking of Herr Einstein when he related this thought…..  Albert Einstein was a happy guy; I have pictorial proof, which I have shared below…..so there…..)

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When all else fails, blame it on the guy next to you!

Fix the problem, not the blame.

Serendipity…. always a surprise when encountered, yet why should it be? Ah well, just one of those things we’ll never know, thank goodness… Any who…. these two diametrically opposed statements bring to light a particularly egregious, and, sadly, effective method of counter-strategy used extensively by those members of society whose primary goal is power over others. For each and every statement such as the latter, there are probably a hundred like the former, all perpetrated with the single intent of discrediting the value of the attitude expressed therein, for if people begin to handle life’s problematic issues by the second method, it makes it much more difficult to manipulate events to the advantage of the manipulators.

The ubiquitous presence of these lies among the body of common speech is astounding, if for no other reason that most folks never even realize that a) people, especially those in positions of authority, are lying to them consistently, or b) they are being easily manipulated by their willingness to accept these lies as truth. The sociopaths who take advantage of this are perfectly aware of this natural tendency among the human herd to accept what they hear from those in authority, and count on it heavily to assist them in maintaining the facade of their benevolence and good intentions.

Well, if no other way, perhaps it would help if a lot of folks came to realize that these assholes do express good intentions, and we all know where good intentions will lead us, don’t we?….. One may hope…..

“A thing worth having is a thing worth cheating for.” — W. C. Fields (1880-1946)

See what I mean? How despicable is this? (Very. It will be on the quiz.)  Even the humorists fall into the traps set for them…… and humorists influence society very heavily, reflecting as the do the common mores and attitudes of those they are trying to get to laugh, i.e. all of society….. but, the manipulators are laughing the hardest….
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Data:  “Felus catus.

Is your taxonomic nomenclature
An endothermic quadruped, carnivorous by nature?
Your visual, olfactory, and auditory senses
Control your hunting skills and natural defenses.

A bit of whimsy is always appropriate, especially before breakfast. I think my only reason for including this little ditty is to point out that poetry can take many guises, but is nonetheless recognizable in whatever clothing it assumes…. even android clothing, or fur….

Ae fond kiss, and then we sever!
A farewell, and then forever!
Deep in heart-wrung tears I’ll pledge thee,
Warring sighs and groans I’ll wage thee.
Who shall say that Fortune grieves him,
While the star of hope she leaves him?
Me, nae cheerful twinkle lights me,
Dark despair around benights me.
— Robert Burns, Ae Fond Kiss

And then, again, there is the clothing of old masters…..
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“I am rich beyond the dreams of avarice.” — Edward Moore (1712-1757) — The Gamester, Act ii, Sc. 2

In the movie Star Trek IV, The Voyage Home, during a scene in which Dr. McCoy and Mr. Scott are trying to convince a plastics engineer to produce the needed walls for their whale aquarium, Bones uses a small paraphrase of the above line, to inflame the imagination of the engineer by appealing to his innate sense of greed. It was a brilliant piece of movie making, and a brilliant line. (Pretty well acted too; the light that came into the engineer’s eyes when he thought of all that money was priceless, along with the perfectly faux innocent sly look on his face….)  It’s one of my favorite scenes from the movie, a cult classic for true Trekkies, but I had never heard, or seen, the line before, and thus did not know who the author might be.

This morning, when I came across this while searching for the last pearl of the day, a huge smile, and feeling of completion, stole across my face and being, and I knew that all would be right with the world today…. well, maybe that’s a bit optimistic, but I sure feel better, knowing the name of the person responsible for such a beautiful phrase. I’m not sure in which philosophical direction it points, not having the context of the rest of the play to study (though I now may do so, at my leisure). But, if I choose to believe it comes from the concept of being rich because of how well loved and filled with joy is my life, and not from the concept of actually amassing monetary wealth, then it is absolutely a piece of literature for the ages….in the category of Truth and Beauty…..
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Well, that went better than I had expected, but I guess that is a natural outcome of having expectations; the percentage chances of being right diminish the more we entertain them ahead of the due process of reality. In short, it’s what I get for being a git…..  Nonetheless, how this has turned out is fine with me, so I’m going to send it off to cyberspace with my blessings. Y’all take care out there….

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

gigoid

Kowabunga!


Replication of tarnished images, on commission….

Posted on by
18

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

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

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

Shall we Pearl?……
___________________________________

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

These are the times I live for…… days when every single face of Reality is just sparkling with possibility, and promise…. Makes me want to take BIG BITES of joie d’vivre!…..
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How does it feel?
To be on your own
With no direction home
Like a complete unknown?

–Bob Dylan, “Like a rolling stone…”

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

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

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

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

— Daniel Bowen’s TOXIC (expanded) CUSTARPEDIA

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

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

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

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

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

gigoid

Kowabunga!

Odd raptors, but honest…..

Posted on by
14

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“One of the saddest lessons of history is this:  If we’ve been bamboozled long enough, we tend to reject any evidence of the bamboozle.  We’re no longer interested in finding out the truth.  The bamboozle has captured us.  it is simply too painful to acknowledge — even to ourselves — that we’ve been so credulous.  (So the old bamboozles tend to persist as the new bamboozles rise.)” — Carl Sagan, “The Fine Art of Baloney Detection,” Parade, February 1, 1987
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I couldn’t resist adding this today, as a bonus round, so to speak…. this has got to be considered as possibly the most creative haiku possible for a Westerner to write, though, to be truthful, I don’t know who wrote it. Perfect structure, suitably obscure, yet clear, it meets all the essential standards of classic haiku, but with the added fillip of a most Carlinesque observation…… priceless!…. enjoy…..

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

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

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

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

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

gigoid

Kowabunga!

Luminescent triangles of pewter, on stolen coasters….

Posted on by
12

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

— _Jabberwocky_, by Lewis Carroll (Charles Dodgson)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

gigoid

Kowabunga!

If the Sweet Bird sings late, Fate lives….

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19

Ffolkes,
Dark events are wont to take place under indifferent moons, which is why I make it a policy never to be out at the same time as a moon. This can be a tough policy to follow on a planet with six moons…. which is why I found myself in a meadow surrounded by tall oaks and madrone imported from legendary Earth, leaves shining in the pearly light, four miles from town in the dead of night, shivering under three of those bloody fake planets masquerading as moons, and watching morosely as a platoon of dark-clad Stank warriors silently filed into the clearing, laser-spears gleaming, to join the rest of us idiots. I could see, already, this was not going to be one of my nights, and I was seriously regretting my weakness in agreeing to join this mad party…..

Well, enough of that…. whoever that was, it doesn’t look like he’ll be having much fun for the next unknown period, so we’ll just leave him to his own devices, and get on with this morning’s real business, the fine art of hunting the creative urge, to trap, hopefully not to kill. T’is a wicked shy beastie, is creativity, and fond of leading me on long, winding chases in the dim morning light. It knows full well that I don’t sleep well, or deeply, and delights in taking advantage of the poor old fat guy who can no longer run very fast….. but, I’m getting smarter in my dotage, so to speak, and have learned to carry some of its favorite food, flattery cakes, which, given the chance, I can use to lure it close enough to use my magic lasso (the one I got from Wonder Woman, that time I loaned her a safety pin to keep her from having a wardrobe malfunction, just as she was getting ready to kick ass on the Penguin…..)  SIGH…. it makes for an interesting morning, but I kind of miss commuting…. NOT!

Having thus fulfilled the government-controlled and regulated daily quota of BS (who else would be in charge of it?), we will now Pearl……
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All we are saying.. is Give Peas a Chance.

This is the bumper sticker I put on my six year old Chivvy Mule…. it complements the one on my Old Bike, that says, “Visualize Whirled Peas”. Both were designed and distributed for sale by the Whirled Peas Institute, a division of the Peas Porridge Hot Corporation, makers of fine cliches and elegant bumper accessories for the entire coven. With their ages-old motto, “Pining for Peas!”, which adorns the dignified Giant Pea Pod atop the whirled-famous Peas HQ in downtown Beirut, shining out of the 75 foot high testament to good taste with cheerful hope, this beloved company stands as an example of the power of Hope, and the profit margins to be made from its devotees among the ignorant masses….

This advertisement is brought to you courtesy of a grant by the Lizzie/Ginger Corp., with supporting funds from Linda Vernon, Inc., that fine old international firm dedicated to bringing humor and insanity to those who need it most. Normally, (if that term can be applied to ANYTHING they do….) they don’t give grants, but this one also serves as a bribe, for advancing their claims as Heiresses of World Domination in the Whirled courts….. a project they have set their sights on for some time now…. encouraged shamelessly by both El Guapo and yours truly, (from whom they will inherit, if they’ll just hold their damn horses…..), using mainly under-funded household accounts sadly neglected by their long-suffering spousal units. Provided all of us can get our shit anywhere close to together, the transfer of power should take place before Christmas…. BUT NOT IF THEY KEEP WHINING ABOUT HOW LONG IT’S TAKING!  CAPISCE, CHICAS?!!!  We now return you to your regularly scheduled nonsense….
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According to experts, the oyster
In its shell – a crustacean cloister –
May frequently be
Either he or a she
Or both, if it should be its choice ter.

The die has been cast, and all dignity and sense is to be avoided at all cost today…. it’s a tough job, but somebody’s got to do it…. You gotta love limericks…. they have to be one of the finest ways to stretch the mind through poetry there is, to my mind. Limericks join Haiku, along with the works of Ogden Nash, Shel Silverstein, Robert Frost, and a very few others, as those literary forms that are completely user-friendly. Anyone can learn to write limericks, or haiku, and learn to do it well. Not everyone may be able to match the creativity and precise outlook of these three sterling examples of this genre, which I like to call the People’s Poems, but just about anyone can make poetry that will please them and others, if only for its uniqueness. I don’t know about others, but writing a good haiku, or limerick, makes me feel pretty damn good…. and it’s a good way to meet like minded folks…. hell, it probably would help bring about whirled peas, if the whole whirled could just see it, and join in the fun….
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“You have to realize that the government, any government, is insane.  You have to treat it the way pagans treated their gods:  As an irrational, capricious, and powerful entity which will mete out total destruction if not sacrificed to or otherwise placated.” — Mike Long (future Libertarian revolutionary)

Okay, so I couldn’t stay funny for a whole post…. so sue me. Wait! Scratch that…. these days, somebody might just take me up on it, claiming cruel and unusual punishment, or some such…. any who, the above statement makes far too much sense to dismiss lightly. Considering my belief that anyone who desires to assume the position of POTUS, or any other similar position of power over others, is, by definition, stark raving mad, this proposition makes perfect sense to me.

As a true Patriot of this country, one who is completely dedicated to protecting the US Constitution and the Bill of Rights, I regard it as sacred Duty to do all I can to prevent any further inroads on the rights we were given as our legacy. These American pundits, who seek office, and power over others, like an addict seeks his needle, are the most dangerous threat our country has faced in over two hundred years. Our Founding Fathers even predicted this; I’ve read several letters from one of them to another, cautioning against the danger to these principles from internal sources. They even identified the most probable culprits, corporations and banks, and those who took their money (definition of an honest politician: one who stays bought…) …. even then, such entities were regarded with mistrust and suspicion as to their motives.

Thus, it becomes not just preference, but Duty, to speak out when new outrages are committed against the principles of freedom, to fight against ignorance, and avarice, and the unholy forces of Indifference with all my faculties and skills. If I, and anyone else who also fears what these people would do in the name of the Almighty Dollar, do not speak up, if we do not fight the modern trend toward apathy and despair, then we will deserve the slavery we accept by so failing to act…….

“Anyway, no drug, not even alcohol, causes the fundamental ills of society. If we’re looking for the source of our troubles, we shouldn’t test people for drugs, we should test them for stupidity, ignorance, greed and love of power.” — P.J. O’Rourke

“A ‘No’ uttered from deepest conviction is better and greater than a ‘Yes’ merely uttered to please, or what is worse, to avoid trouble.” — Mahatma Gandhi
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In the interests of consistency, that hobgoblin, and of continuing today’s attempt to stick to a theme, I present the following, which, though found without any attribution (how could anyone not be proud enough of this to want their name on it?), remains the perfect addition to a lineup that has not merely approached wacky, but left it in the dust….

The sky was dark, the moon was high
All alone just she and I
Her hair was soft, her eyes were blue
I knew just what she wanted to do
Her skin so soft, her legs so fine
I ran my fingers down her spine
I didn’t know how but I tried my best
I started by placing my hands on her breast
I remember my fear, my fast beating heart
But slowly she spread her legs apart
And when I did it I felt no shame
All at once – the white stuff came
At last it’s finished, it’s all over now
My first time ever at milking a cow…

It got me…. how ’bout you? I just wish I knew who wrote it, so I could find more like it….. delicious!….
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Three poets, in three distant ages born,
Greece, Italy, and England did adorn.
The first in loftiness of thought surpass’d;
The next, in majesty; in both the last.
The force of Nature could no further go;
To make a third, she join’d the former two.
— John Dryden (1631-1700) — Under Mr. Milton’s Picture

Do what you wanna, do what you will;
Just don’t mess up your neighbor’s thrill.
And when you pay the bill, kindly leave a little tip
To help the next poor sucker on his one-way trip.
— Frank Zappa, You Are What You Is

Our souls sit close and silently within,
And their own web from their own entrails spin;
And when eyes meet far off, our sense is such,
That, spider-like, we feel the tenderest touch.
— John Dryden (1631-1700) — Mariage a la Mode, Act ii, Sc. 1

John Dryden… 10 letters…. Frank Zappa… 10 letters…. John Milton… 10 letters….Coincidence?…. I think not….. further unquestionable evidence of reincarnation, or at least, serendipity, wouldn’t you say?……
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I can only hope that today’s unexpected, but welcome, outburst of whimsy has no deleterious effect on the remainder of my ephemeral consciousness on this diurnal interval, although there are worse ways to spend the day than with furious spates of capriciousness and unadulterated fun. Let’s follow the wisest course, of expecting nothing, and appreciating whatever does turn up…. Y’all take care out there…..

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

gigoid

Kowabunga!

The Plight of the Stumble Bee…..

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12

Ffolkes,
Unable, or unwilling, to enter the door, the clumsy-looking, shabbily dressed man, in a grimy overcoat that had seen better days, stared hungrily through the window toward the lights inside, a look of quiet determination crossing his face for an instant. I watched, then, as he straightened his shoulders, drew himself up to his maximum height of about 5’3″, and strode purposefully to the door, yanking it open with a fierce pull, banging it against the porch railing, hard. The ensuing deafening crash had the noise of the diner falling silent, as everyone crowding in the booths, and lining the counter, turned to look, startled, toward the noise.

The small man, now trembling with the force of whatever deep emotion held him in thrall, stood quivering in the doorway, moving his eyes from face to face, starting on his left, and working rapidly around the room. As his eyes came to rest upon a party about half-way down the aisle between the counter and booths, just being served at a table by the window, his expression hardened, and he started toward the object of his search, now appearing to glare at the people at the table with the sheer intensity of hatred and loathing.

I, along with the rest of the diner watched in rapt fascination as he came to the table, where he stopped, gazing down at the four well-dressed men who sat there, looking up at him with expressions of polite disinterest, somewhat incongruous, considering the drama of the small man’s approach, and the threatening, hateful visage that he now presented. For a long moment, he stared at each face in turn, then, in a surprisingly soft, lilting voice, he spoke, “Zo! You would send your assassins to the house of Giaccomo, eh? Your trained killers, zo dangerous, no? I will show you dangerous!”

On the last words, he reached into the pocket of his grimy coat, and pulled out a small, indistinct object. “Here….I give you back your assassins, both of them!” With that, he threw down what he held onto the table in front of the four silent, now grim-faced men. They looked down, shocked eyes wide, to where lay two human ears, covered in dried blood, looking a bit worse for wear. “Next time, send more! You will need them, and my garden can use the fertilizer!” Before they could move, the man swept the flatware, dishes, and glasses into the laps of the seated men, who reacted not at all, but merely watched, silent and still, as the small figure turned, and walked out the door, into the night. Inside the diner, silence held reign……

Once more, my manic-depressive Muse has taken over my fingers, to lay out the preceding paragraphs for your reading pleasure, or confusion, as the case may be; I’m tending toward the latter. I hope it does give pleasure, though… because it’s a little weird, having to sit here while words go down on screen that have never passed through my creative filter…. an odd feeling to have one’s subconscious mind playing tricks like that so early. I barely got a sip of coffee down before the Muse just took over, so I’m going to take a short break to soothe my nerves…. be back shortly…. I wonder who Giaccomo is?…

Okay, all better now…. I sure wish I could get my subconscious to quit doing that; it’s a bit disconcerting to have one’s volition so rudely usurped in such a cavalier fashion. It’s not like I wouldn’t share screen time….. ah well, I guess it will all come out in the wash. Let’s Pearl, shall we?……
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“The ideal life is in our blood and never will be still. Sad will be the day for any man when he becomes contented with the thoughts he is thinking and the deeds he is doing — where there is not forever beating at the doors of his soul some great desire to do something larger, which he knows that he was meant and made to do.” — Phillips Brooks

I’ve been pushing this quote forward every day for a week, since I found it and copied it here for discussion. I keep putting it off. I haven’t figured out why that is, but I’m sick of dealing with it, and it’s too good to throw out, so…. deal with it, Ned…

I think the problem here is that I agree with this, and really couldn’t say it much better. And, it’s such a great little piece of insight disguised as a homily, it doesn’t need any expansion to increase or enhance its positive direction. So, I’m going to use a bit of cosmic Judo, and go with the flow… just enjoy it, and its message, which is, essentially, “Carpe diem, as soon as you recognize which diem you’re in!”…..
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“[The artist] speaks to our capacity for delight and wonder, to the sense of mystery surrounding our lives; to our sense of pity, and beauty, and pain; to the latent feeling of fellowship with all creation — and to the subtle but invincible conviction of solidarity in dreams, in joy, in sorrow, in aspirations, in illusions, in hope, in fear which binds together all humanity — the dead to the living and the living to the unborn.”     — Joseph Conrad

I can state, with some confidence, my belief that this is what most of us are shooting for as artists. Few of us can express how we approach our Art, or why, or easily answer any such pertinent questions, but all of us can feel what we wish to share, impatiently waiting for our keyboard/camera/computer program/clay/other artistic medium to be applied to the task at hand, giving to the Universe a small piece of our Soul, pieces that cry out for release, eager to be off to be consumed by other ears, other eyes, other minds.

For some of us, it is therapy. For others, it is the creative impulse. For still others, it is ambition, or outrage, or pride of accomplishment, or the desire to be understood. For a million and more reasons, our Art forces its way past our fears and denials, to find the light it must seek in other’s eyes. It is, to me, more proof of humanity, for the impulse to create Art is proof of our innate need for each other, and our need to be acknowledged, and loved. This is why we place our hearts, and souls, firmly in our work, and then give it away, gratis……
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“I wanted a perfect ending … Now I’ve learned, the hard way, that some poems don’t rhyme, and some stories don’t have a clear beginning, middle, and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what’s going to happen next. Delicious ambiguity.” — Gilda Radner

Why do the best of us have to die so young? “Delicious ambiguity.” What a brilliant summation of a wonderfully wise statement! One wouldn’t normally expect a woman known for her comedy to have such insight into Life, but then, there certainly are precedents for it. Will Rogers, Lenny Bruce, George Carlin, Lily Tomlin, Dick Gregory, even Steve Allen, all were best known as comedians, and justly so. But all of them are also some of the most lucid, intelligent, and erudite social critics that ever lived, and they were certainly the most accurate, and important voices of that genre in the last century.

It makes one wonder, what our world would be like, if the love of humanity, the brilliant political and social conscience, and the acerbic wit, shown by these few masters of innuendo and sarcasm were to be set as the rules governing society at large. I know one thing for sure…. there would be more smiles seen everywhere, on the faces of children, adults, and elders, and it would be considered a social faux pas to darken another person’s attitude with sobriety…. much healthier for all of us, don’t you think?……

How he lies in his rights of a man!
Death has done all death can.
And absorbed in the new life he leads,
He recks not, he heeds
Nor his wrong nor my vengeance; both strike
On his senses alike,
And are lost in the solemn and strange
Surprise of the change.
— Robert Browning (1812-1890) — After
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…I’ll sulk for the rest of your days and make your life a living hell. So there.

Wait a minute! Who let my ex- in here without telling me?….. ah, okay, it’s only a random memory stim….whew! I thought for sure I’d gone back to Hell on Earth, where I resided for several years prior to her dramatic departure….. I never did get what I did to her that pissed her off so much, but I guess if I had a clue as to that, things would be different….no sense in living backwards, is there?….

But it does bring up a subject not often discussed, or even considered, due to its volatile nature; the impulse to hurt others, for perceived injuries of whatever nature, revenge, at its most petty. I suppose it is mostly a natural response, arising from the basic instinct to preserve life, but it seems to me it gets carried a lot further than necessary; the responses are usually much more powerful than the initial events that cause the perceived injuries.

For some reason, an attack on personal beliefs or self-image is less easily dismissed as are less personal affronts, and there seems to be no limit on the degree of intensity one may use in these instances. For example, it seems a bit harsh to me to throw silverware at someone’s head as a response to being asked “How are you this morning?”, or to scream uncontrollably at someone for being tardy for a meal by less than a minute, because of having paused to pick a flower for the screamer (both of which I have been treated to on more than one occasion….) But, maybe it’s just me….

“We need to talk.” — The scariest words known to man…. as engraved on the Tomb of the Unknown Husband….anonymously, of course….

SIGH… I guess it just goes to show, that everyone has their own idea of what love is, and finding someone who feels exactly the same is still a matter of chance. I’ve always preferred to approach it from the direction implied by the following little piece of common sense…. (well, it’s common in my world…..) It is a sentiment that naturally predisposes one to avoid those sorts of things that one would potentially need to be sorry about….

“There is never anything to feel sorry about with love. Never.” — Robert Heinlein

Curse on all laws but those which love has made!
Love, free as air at sight of human ties,
Spreads his light wings, and in a moment flies.
— Alexander Pope (1688-1744) — Eloisa to Abelard, Line 74

Weird….sometimes after I finish a discussion, a number of good pearls on that jump out at me in the search for the next… hmph! Good thing I’m easygoing…. wait, no I’m not!….. oh well, screw it….
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Boop Boop Bee Boop – Betty Boop

I saw a werewolf drinking a piña colada at Trader Vic’s; his hair was perfect.–from “Werewolves of London”

Some things are just perfect the way you find them…. and serendipity is real!

“I just can’t help myself!” — Standard disclaimer — Babs Bunny
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Well, I’ve probably done enough damage for one morning, and I’m running out of hit points, so I’ll bring this to an end here…. timing, as we know, is everything…. Y’all take care out there…..

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

gigoid

Dozer

Kowabunga!

Dreaming, the sleeper sleeps on….

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4

Ffolkes,
This could take awhile, as I have no pearls on tap, and must first go diving, and I never know how long it may take. So bear with me, as I sacrifice my comfy bed in exchange for a dip in the world wide ocean of facts and fantasies….. I hate to quote Arnie, but, I’ll be back…..
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“A professional politician is a professionally dishonorable man.  In order to get anywhere near high office he has to make so many compromises and submit to so many humiliations that he becomes indistinguishable from a streetwalker.” — H.L. Mencken

To tell the truth, I’m getting a bit tired of harping on this subject. But, I’m also still filled with outrage and chronic disbelief at the sheer effrontery of the so aptly named professionally dishonorable men who are trying to gather enough blind people together to ensure their nomination for next year’s election.  Oops, wishful thinking I guess; I mean the election later this year. I have yet to encounter a day in the last few weeks where the news has no new comments or statements from one of the group of wannabe’s, and every one of those reported utterances is fuel for the fire of outrage merrily burning out of control in my brain.

Their statements are becoming more grandiose, more insipid, more personal, and more derogatory toward opponents with each passing day; one of the most desperate is so scared of losing he has begun a series of attacks of a personal nature on the President and his own Republican opponents for the nomination. No issues are being addressed now, it’s all a matter of who can paint the ugliest picture of the other guys in the remaining days before Super Tuesday (what a crock!). It will be interesting to me to see who does the best in these upcoming primaries on Tuesday; it will give me an idea of just how far down the road to perdition we’ve gone, and how far it is to get back to a normal world…. a long time, I’m afraid, but we’ll just see what happens……

“I have been thinking that I would make a proposition to my Republican friends…that if they will stop telling lies about the Democrats, we will stop telling the truth about them.” — Adlai Stevenson

….and just so you don’t think I pick on Republicans exclusively…..

“I looked up the word “politics” in the dictionary and it’s actually a  combination of two words; “poli,” which means many, and “tics,” which means bloodsuckers.” — Jay Leno
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“Firearms stand next in importance to the Constitution itself. They are the American people’s liberty teeth and keystone under independence…  From the hour the Pilgrims landed, to the present day, events, occurrences, and tendencies prove that to ensure peace, security, and happiness, the rifle and pistol are equally indispensable….  The very atmosphere of firearms every- where restrains evil interference – they deserve a place of honor with all that’s good.” — George Washington (bogus?)

Bogus or not, it’s true. If George didn’t say this, then Thomas Jefferson, or George Mason did say it, or something very close to it. I’ve read passages from Tom Jefferson’s letters that parallel this statement perfectly. I’ve included it today because I want to reiterate its importance in today’s society. It is becoming increasingly clear that the powers that be are trying to take away the basic freedoms that Tom and both George’s fought for so eloquently; the Bill of Rights is now abridged, and the next step is to make those abridgments permanent.

The federal government and politicians are always spouting off about gun control, trying to limit the public’s right to arm themselves, blaming it on the criminals who have no compunction against using their guns to achieve their own ends (funny how much that sounds like what the police do on a regular basis). They do this because they firmly believe that only they have the intelligence, integrity of purpose, and restraint to have guns, and can be trusted not use them inappropriately. Of course, they say that, but once all of our guns are gone, and they are the only ones who have them, tell me, what is there to keep them from using them on us? Honesty? Riiiiight. Do I even need to point out how often they lie to the public? Restraint? Sure, ask the Afghanis or the Iraqis how much restraint they have witnessed (ask their civilians, they’re the ones we were killing over there, a great many more than military casualties…..).

So, you may, if you so desire, sit there and buy into the bogus fears promoted by the beloved ruling class, and calmly watch while all of your former freedoms are sold into slavery. Or, like me, you can make sure you are well-armed, and hunker down to wait for the fools to come and try to take your guns away from you. Give me 10 seconds warning, and they will find out that a free man cannot be controlled; you might be able to kill him, but in my case, at least, they should be aware that I guarantee the price to be exacted will be much higher than expected…..
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If parts allure thee, think how Bacon shin’d,
The wisest, brightest, meanest of mankind!
Or ravish’d with the whistling of a name,
See Cromwell, damn’d to everlasting fame!
— Alexander Pope (1688-1744)  — Essay on Man, Epistle iv, Line 281

I was talking yesterday with my old friend, Tom, and we got to talking about how much age is affecting us, in ways that now seem obvious as to cause, but which in former years we had no clue of their developing importance. An example of this is sleeping; our sleep habits now are much different than previously, due to age-related conditions such as BPH or hypertension. Other things assume higher priority as we age, and when younger, we had no clue that we would be even thinking about such subjects, nor that we would be spending inordinate amounts of time dealing with the ramifications. It’s all good, we weren’t bitching about it, just observing. But it brought other thoughts to mind, thoughts that didn’t have so much weight for the younger me…..

I’m talking about death, of course, and the legacy we leave behind, that which demonstrates best our raison d’etre, our purpose, our answer to the question, “What’s it all about, Alfie?”. In my younger days, thinking up new and funny lines to put on graves was, at best, an undertaking of no more than a couple of minutes of mild hilarity. Now it’s a matter for serious thought and internal debate; one never wants to be caught unprepared for death. It would embarrass me no end to not have my affairs straight before I submit my final post in the blog of Life, to have no memory of me survive past the temporary grief of my children and friends who might outlive me.

Our lives as humans on this plane of existence are short, and so being, they create in us a strong need to have some piece of us that is immortal, that does not give in to the laws of nature, and insists on persisting in a form other than flesh. If we can’t live forever, then we will settle for living in memory, preferably with some physical presence, such as a headstone, or a statue. But, even if it is only in memory, it is comforting to know that those we love will keep the best part of us with them, and that is the love we share; it acknowledges no barriers at all, not even that of death…..

Man will survive into eternity. He’s too stupid to know when he’s beaten. — Unknown, (one of the lesser-known Greek philosophers…)
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To see the world in a grain of sand,
And a heaven in a wild flower,
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand,
And eternity in an hour.
— William Blake, “Auguries of Innocence”

I tend to write about the parts of human nature and society that annoy me, or more often, outrage me; there’s plenty of stuff happening in the world that accomplishes either or both every day. As a result, it may seem like I’m a curmudgeon all the time, and firmly believe that we’re all going straight to my version of Hell, sometime in the next two weeks. And you’d be right in that estimation, for the most part.

But in reality, I am not so pessimistic as it may sound, and I find life to be all I could hope for as a human, full of beauty, grace, and loving kindness. I see these features every day, in almost every interaction I witness  between people. A great many people out there in Life At Large are decent, honorable folks, and they interact with others in that light. There are also many who are not so squeaky clean on a moral level, but who fight against their own nature to change themselves for the better.

There is human misery aplenty, but there is also human love unlimited, as the dance of balance that takes place every instant of existence spins gaily along the ribbon of Time. One need only open the eyes, the mind, and the heart to see beauty in every direction, and in every moment…… and the poem above from Blake, is a perfect example of that serendipity…..
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As I awoke this morning,
When all things sweet are born,
A robin perched upon my sill
To hail a happy morn.

He looked so young and fragile,
So sweetly did he sing,
That thoughts of joy and happiness
Into my heart did spring.

I smiled discreetly to myself
As I paused beside my bed,
Then quickly brought the window down,
And smashed his little head!

— another gem from Anonymous–

See? I do have a sense of humor…. I just find it to be more effective if I don’t let it out much. Better surprise factor…. and this poem by our old friend Anonymous has all the elements I admire…. perfect rhyming, cadence, and structure, grace, beauty, and in the last line, true to life. Admit it. You’ve had the same feeling, those homicidal (aviacidal?) tendencies toward an early bird bragging about his breakfast, now, haven’t you? I’m honest enough to admit to having succumbed to this attitude frequently in my youth, though in my case it was generally directed toward a rooster rather than a robin. In any case, it’s worth a moment’s giggle…..
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When I awoke this morning, almost two hours after my normal wake up, I was uncertain how today’s missive might turn out. I shouldn’t have worried; I’m happy with it, at least now that it’s over. Might just be the relief at that, but hey, I’ll take what I can get. Meantime, y’all take care out there……

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

Dozer

Kowabunga!

 

Custom platitudes built while you wait….

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3

Ffolkes,
Shadows followed, dark and fluid, as the band of silent intruders picked its way up the narrow path to the castle. Not a whisper of sound could be heard; only a slight background hiss, as the wind blew softly, rustling the leaves of trees bordering the path. No weapons clattered, no feet scraped, no harsh breath drawn; only the silent shadows slipping through the night. As the wall looms above the group, a cloud passes, and the troop is revealed as eight men with darkened face and skin, clothed all in black, bearing strangely shaped weapons that softly gleamed in the pale light cast by the half-moon, high above the eastern horizon.

Still no sound is heard, as the men spread themselves evenly across the base of the wall, facing the bricks. Each man laid the palms of his hands on the wall, and began to mutter soft incantations; power now crackles through the night air, almost a sizzle along the nerve endings. As the chanting continues, the men’s bodies begin to become indistinct, translucent, fading and merging with the wall. In mere seconds, all eight forms are gone, as if they had never been, and the night’s silence covers the now empty space of wall where they stood…..

One of these fine mornings, I’ll sit down and write a paragraph like the above, but I won’t stop writing until something actually happens to the people in the story. It may be this one; it came out pretty well, and could very easily be a good opening for a science-fantasy tale, set on some fantastic planet peopled by a race of beautiful women who need….. some kind of help…. see, there’s the problem. I get so far into a story, and it peters out on me. Oh well, this is mostly a form of self-therapy anyway; it doesn’t HAVE to mean anything, or go anywhere other than where I feel like wandering in my head. And, honestly, I kinda like it this way; I never know from one day to the next what is going to tickle my fancy, and get written about today. And that’s okay, too….. let’s get on with it, shall we?…..
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Buzz off, Banana Nose; Relieve mine eyes
Of hateful soreness, purge mine ears of corn;
Less dear than army ants in apple pies
Art thou, old prune-face, with thy chestnuts worn,
Dropt from thy peeling lips like lousy fruit;
Like honeybees upon the perfum’d rose
They suck, and like the double-breasted suit
Are out of date; therefore, Banana Nose,
Go fly a kite, thy welcome’s overstayed;
And stem the produce of thy waspish wits:
Thy logick, like thy locks, is disarrayed;
Thy cheer, like thy complexion, is the pits.
Be off, I say; go bug somebody new,
Scram, beat it, get thee hence, and nuts to you.

I’m sorry, but once more, there was no attribution for this. It’s too bad; I’d have enjoyed looking for more of this author’s work. It’s delightfully silly, yet strongly written. And that’s why it’s here, simply because I like it. You don’t have to, but if you find you don’t, there’s no shame…. it’s also pretty bad, when viewed from certain viewpoints. Hey, it’s free, right? What else have you done today where you can say that?…..
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“Waiting is.” — Robert A. Heinlein, ‘Stranger in a Strange Land’

Taken by itself, in this format, without the supportive structure of the book from which it was taken, this seems a bit obtuse, too inscrutable. But when one adds in the philosophical background from which this statement springs, a direction is given to the path one’s thoughts must take to find and absorb the meaning, and the lesson, that these two words hold. Even without the book’s help, using the phrase as a focus of meditation is very soothing, almost healing. It may be the shortest koan known to man; I can’t think of any I’ve seen that are simpler or deeper than this. And using it is so simple! Merely close the eyes, relax, and say the words, inflecting them as a question, and follow the march of your thoughts and images as they lead you further inward, toward the center, where balance lives…..
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“You can’t have a light without a dark to stick it in.” — Arlo Guthrie

Serendipity, by its very nature, is always a surprise; knowing that, one shouldn’t be surprised when it happens. But we always are; it’s just the way we’re built, I guess. This little tasty bite of truth becomes all the more savory for knowing it came from the same guy who wrote “Alice’s Restaurant”. In at least one respect, though, it’s not surprising at all; Arlo grew up under the influence of one of the century’s most talented artists, Woody Guthrie, a very perceptive social historian himself, so I’m certain his education and personal paradigms show the effect of that on his intellectual abilities. No matter how one looks at it though, it’s still a great quote, very perceptive and insightful…. may contemplating it bring you illumination….
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‘God says in the Bible’ carries as much moral imperative to me as saying ‘Dr. Seuss says in Green Eggs and Ham.’  Both are interesting books with some good messages, nothing more. — Anonymous

Thank goodness this quote came from such a distinguished, well-respected source; some folks might take it wrong coming from someone of less renown, such as, say, …me? No, I didn’t say it, I just found it, but I can’t dispute it either, as it has a valid point. I’ve read both books, and each is composed of a very large amount of nonsense surrounding some nuggets of truth; at least, that’s what my crap detector tells me. I’m sure Green Eggs and Ham would be just as popular as the Bible, if it also had dozens of chapters obviously written by biased people, who had their own agenda, conveniently disguised as sacred, ‘divinely inspired’ gospel.

That agenda generally includes the unwritten but inherent assumption of entitlement that humans have over the rest of ‘creation’, otherwise known as the Universe. I’m afraid that the Biblical divine mandate that theoretically allows humans to ‘have dominion’ over everything they see, just isn’t supported by the facts in evidence. In fact, the evidence points to humanity being more of a pimple on the face of Mother Nature, and once the build-up of crud we’ve created with our foolishness comes to a head, it will burst, be drained, washed away, and the earth will continue on as though we were never here….. and in truth, were we ever really here, or did we just imagine ourselves?…..

“…to emphasize the afterlife is to deny life. To concentrate on Heaven is to create hell. In their desperate longing to transcend the disorderliness, friction, and unpredictability that pesters life; in their desire for a fresh start in a tidy habitat, germ-free and secured by angels, religious multitudes are gambling the only life they may ever have on a dark horse in a race that has no finish line.” — Tom Robbins, _Skinny Legs and All_, 1990, p. 305.
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“If science were explained to the average person in a way that is accessible and exciting, there would be no room for pseudoscience.  But there is a kind of Gresham’s Law by which in popular culture the bad science drives out the good.  And for this I think we have to blame, first, the scientific community ourselves for not doing a better job of popularizing science, and second, the media, which are in this respect almost uniformly dreadful.  Every newspaper in America has a daily astrology column.  How many have even a weekly astronomy column?  And I believe it is also the fault of the educational system.  We do not teach how to think.  This is a very serious failure that may even, in a world rigged with 60,000 nuclear weapons, compromise the human future.” — Carl Sagan, The Burden Of Skepticism, The Skeptical Inquirer, — Vol. 12, Fall 87

This is the kind of statement that can be used to demonstrate the difference between a reasoned, rational response, with evidence included, to a concrete, relevant question, and an answer formulated by someone with a belief system based on matters of faith. The attraction of such belief is rooted in the ease of living with it; when faith provides all answers, no thought is required to find them. Nor is evidence required…. only faith.

It’s a very safe feeling, to exist with the knowledge that no matter what one does, personal responsibility never has to be assumed. Just confess, and accept Jesus, and forgiveness is yours….. and if someone gets hurt along the way, well, they’re probably heathens, anyway, and not like us…..so, treating them like animals is okay…. these are the same folks who don’t see what is wrong with Americans soldiers overseas burning Muslim holy books, or torturing and humiliating helpless prisoners, and yet want to pass an amendment to the Constitution to make it illegal to burn a US flag. What is wrong with this picture?….

I’ll tell ya what’s wrong with it…. but it will have to be another time. I don’t think I have enough left in me now to begin a whole new rant.  Probably just as well, considering my mood; I’m already wound up, and letting it out now could easily cause a rift in the space-time continuum; we certainly wouldn’t want that. Consider yourselves lucky, this time….. I’ll just leave you with this…..

“The mistake began when God was created in a male image. Of course, women would see Him that way, but men should have been gentlemen enough, remembering their mothers, to make God a woman! But the God of Gods–the Boss–has always been a man. That makes life so perverted, and death so unnatural. We should have imagined life as created in the birth-pain of God the Mother. Then we would understand why we, Her children, have inherited pain, for we would know that our life’s rhythm beats from Her great heart, torn with the agony of love and birth. And we would feel that death meant reunion with Her, a passing back into Her substance, blood of Her blood again, peace of Her peace! Now wouldn’t that be more logical and satisfying than having God a male whose chest thunders with egotism and is too hard for tired heads and thoroughly comfortless?” — Eugene O’Neill, “Strange Interlude” [1928], Act II
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I have a feeling this one may cause some flak; I see that I’ve gone a bit overboard this morning in my discussion on belief systems; it’s certainly long enough. If it helps, no offense is intended; everyone is entitled to their own beliefs. I write what is in my head at the time; some of it is not acceptable for public consumption, and I don’t bring that stuff out for review. But, I also don’t shy away from giving my take on just about any subject that concerns society at large, so those who disagree or actively dislike what I say are free to either stop reading and go elsewhere, or write back with a response. I’m happy to engage in dialogue, it’s a great way to check the validity of one’s arguments, comparing them to someone else’s take on the matter at hand.

I’ve reached the end, finally. Happy days….. now I shall sally forth and carpe that old diem! Y’all take care out there…..

 

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

gigoid

Dozer

Kowabunga!