Shot to hell, it is…. bowed, bloody, completely in tatters…. Fortunately, we’re referring to my routine, and, perhaps, my mind, not my corpus; typing would be even more difficult, if that were the case. It’s complicated, and challenging enough already, what with the revolt being carried out by the physical side of my persona; it has taken me well over an hour, and more than a single cup of coffee, just to be able to get this simple paragraph onto the screen.
Without going into details that might curdle the milk you just poured over your oatmeal, let’s just say that getting this done will be an act of monumental courage and perseverance, to push through the haze veiling my mind, and put some clarity into what goes onto the page. Brilliance, or even moderate style may be out of the question; we’ll have to wait and see what happens. I could conceivably loosen up a bit, and find a pocket of energy, and/or sanity, (either will do….) that will carry me through to the end of this, but, I can’t count on it, and it’s not too likely at this point, anyway…. I’ll be lucky to get dressed all the way, much less display any real creativity in my prose….
I had no idea at the start of this blog how hard it is to write something fresh and creative every day; it gives me a bit more respect for those columnists who manage to do that for many years, maintaining a witty, accessible, and fun atmosphere in their work over periods of time far greater than what I’ve done here for the last three or so years….. Herb Caen, Walter Winchell, Grantland Rice, Jon Carroll, and a number of other daily columnists now have my complete admiration, as well as my burning curiosity, wondering how the hell they managed it for all that time…
But, long discussions of old time heroes won’t get me any further toward finishing this; it’s barely given me a start. I suppose it’s some sort of solution to the lack of freshly minted material, which, combined with my fuzzy head and overall schmeckiness, (a fine old word, that I just made up…. It sure SOUNDS like I feel…. Schmecky….), but, I don’t think it will do in the long run, except as filler, which has already shown itself to be an acceptable pathway for taking such side trips into tangential subject matter…. It may be fun, and take up time & space, but, it won’t last for more than a few paragraphs before becoming detrimental to the larger picture….
Nonesuch…. what a great word. I’m not entirely sure why it floated up to the surface of my mind, unless it’s trying to give me a hint, that it’s time to try to regain our foothold on sanity, or, at minimum, make the attempt to return to reality, before we get so far lost we can’t even find a GPS, much less our own behinds…. In fact, I’d say that y’all might do well to find your own way back to your seats, because I’m about to bail out of here, and fight my way back overland….. It’s hard to fly when weighted down by depression, as we all know, and I’m not going to sit here any longer, pretending I’m okay….
On that cryptic turn, we’ll head out into the wilds of the pearl beds, where I may be able to locate my sanity…. If not, well, I’ve been there before, so, it shouldn’t take too long to fight my way out…. In the meantime, since I’ve got nothing better to do this morning….
Shall we Pearl?…..
“He should not vow to walk in the dark, who has not seen the nightfall.’ — Elrond
Panting and wheezing, I clamber to the next level, only to find another sheer rock face, the only way to proceed…. Having climbed this far, I’m not willing to go back down, and besides, I get vertigo thinking about it…. I’ll just have to go on…. I know, I’ll make an old school pearl, and that will bring me right back to earth, if I do it right….. Let’s see what we can do…
“Each man reaps on his own farm.” — Plautus (254-184 BC) — Mostellaria, Act iii, Sc. 2, 112, (799.)
“A Puritan is someone who is deathly afraid that someone, somewhere, is having fun.” — H. L. Mencken
“To be conscious that you are ignorant is a great step to knowledge.” — Benjamin Disraeli (Earl Beaconsfield) (1805-1881) — Sybil, Book i, Chap. v
“A government big enough to give you everything you want is a government big enough to take from you everything you have.” — Gerald R. Ford
“A clown is a clown and will always be a clown.” — Babbaluche the cobbler
“I’m not a god, I was misquoted.” — Lister, Red Dwarf
“I only wish I may see your head stroked down with a slipper.” — Terence (185-159 BC) — Act v, Sc. 7, 4, (1028.)
Well…. I have to say this…. That’s the oddest pearl I think I’ve ever put together…. It is a bit esoteric, to be sure, but, I think the last quote, from Terence, just makes it all okay…. If you have any clues as to what he might have been referring to, or talking about, I’d love to hear them, because I don’t have one, at all….. But, I am not required to have one, legally, so, onward….
Here is a poem I wrote to try to describe this process, of creating Pearls…. It’s not bad, and will hopefully expiate some of the potential ire that may be engendered by today’s apparent, no, today’s all-too-real fragility, of both purpose, and intelligence…. The poem describes what I go through each day pretty well, which is, after all, WHY I wrote it to begin with…. Better out than in, I always say….
Retreat, retreat, he cries in vain
we cannot stand such pain!
Another battle, another day’s fight
Eternally at war, both day and night.
Storms within, crashing and thrashing about,
filling each moment with fear and doubt.
Cries of anguish, hopes for a swift end
Denied with wounds that will not mend.
The crisis approaches, time will not wait.
It marches on, driven madly by fate.
We have no recourse, no other road to walk,
No great power to whom we may talk.
Morning arrives, seemingly mild and free
Until one considers all that must be
An intro, some pearls, a photo or two
Today’s magnificent Pearl, created just for you…..
Due to the lack of any sort of intelligent activity going on in my mind, and the time constraints involved in my being so late getting to this, here is a religirant from the archives, with some closing comments to freshen it up a bit…..
“It is ridiculous to suppose that the great head of things, whatever it be, pays any regard to human affairs.” — Pliny the Elder (23-79 AD) — Natural History, Book ii, Sect. 20
This has always been an issue in my mind, from the very earliest times I was exposed to religious instruction, in some Presbyterian Sunday School when I was a young lad. Even at the age of five or six, I had a hard time understanding two things about God, if what they were telling me about Him was true. First, I couldn’t believe that a God, supposedly able to create an entire universe, would take the time and/or energy to care whether or not I was paying attention to His rules (I also questioned why He would make rules in the first place….)
Secondly, the whole idea of worship made me uneasy…. it seemed a bit, hmm, needy, or vulnerable, to me. I knew that the admiration of others made me feel weird; uneasy and uncomfortable with their fawning (baby sisters & brothers, little kids, and others who show such feelings for their older, more accomplished siblings….). Even the admiration I held for my older siblings, and my heroes, made me a bit uncomfortable. So, I could never understand why an all-powerful being would want any part of such a thing.
So, even then, before I had any real defenses, I suppose my ability to reason made it hard for me to accept a lot of what I was told. It never made sense to me that the pictures I saw of God made him look just like some human patriarch (hmm… no Freudian comments?); I mean, if he was so far above us, how did we know what He looked like? I didn’t remember seeing any photos of Him, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit, (another questionable entity to the mind of a five-year old….) playing in the Dead Sea surf, nor did I recall any such word from God Himself. There were a lot of folks saying that the Bible is the Word of God, but the only ones saying so were people, not Gods.
So, maybe I was a bit different than the average young bear cub, but much of what they tried to foist upon my unsuspecting mind never took hold, as I found it completely unbelievable. It just didn’t make any sense, even by the rules they claimed to be those by which reality operated. If I, a little kid, didn’t like to be worshiped, why would an omnipotent being have anything to do with it? Give me a reasonable, rational answer, and I will consider the concept. But, I think you’d best bring a new and different set of arguments, because the ones that have been in play for several thousand years just don’t cut it in my book….
“Everybody has the right to be stupid, but they’re abusing the privilege.” — Smart Bee
From the vantage point of two-plus years in the future, I’m compelled to expand upon what I wrote then…. which, advantageously, makes this a fresh rant, rather than one lazily pulled from the archives, and left to stand alone…. I can be nice, and diligent, when I want to be…. Of course, doing so only adds to my curmudgeonry when discussing the whole divinity scam, otherwise known as The Dogma Game….
In the above rant, in my attempts to make fun of the lack of logical structure which comprises, (or perhaps the word, infests, is better), the whole of the Christian credo, while not bad, fall short of hilarious…. I’m also aware that this current manifesto has assumed my pedantic, pontificating style, which is liable to put even me to sleep, should I insist on carrying it through to the arguments to follow…. or, that will presumably follow, once I get done deciding how to approach such a daunting task….
There, was that stiff and awkward enough for you? It was for me….. But, that’s okay, God won’t mind; from what I can tell, IF there is a God, even one remotely similar to the one the Christians, Muslims, et al envision in their holy writings, no matter what He/She/It wants to be called, I would guess His/Her/Its sense of humor would extend to include something like this essay will become, if it ever begins…. It (a divine sense of humor….), I would assume, by definition, would be infinite in scope, so, I’m pretty sure I’m covered….. If not, I should be….
Rather than bore y’all any further with all this, why don’t I find just the right pearl to close this off…. I’ll just leave you with this thought…. IF there is a GOD, and He is responsible for making us the way we are, then He MUST have a good sense of humor…. I mean, just LOOK at us! Ridiculously weak, physically fragile, and easily duped by our more aggressive, more unscrupulous peers; what was He thinking? Plus, we have noses, which grow red and make funny noises when squeezed…. If that isn’t funny, I’m a fire hydrant…. Not a funny fire hydrant, but, hey, what do you want from an inanimate object so early in the morning?….
As a prophet saving the world
The words from your lips
I just can’t believe you are such
— Frank Zappa, “Oh No”.
Y’all are now fully aware of how strange it can get around here, so it won’t surprise you to hear that the Wise Old Pine Cone is still busy with his student, but has agreed to a photo session today…. It’s a good thing, too, as I’m starting to get a lot of fan mail on him; I’ve even received several proposals for him, from a number of traffic and ice cream cones…. Tomorrow, I promise, we’ll have more pix of him, and his handsome young paduan learner…. Who knows? Maybe I’ll devote an entire Pearl to the Old Cone’s world; we’ll see how today’s shoot comes off….
But, for now, I’m done, and a damn good thing, too, as I’m about to scream, and you don’t want to know why….. Suffice it to say, I’ll be back tomorrow, if I’m still able, and the internet doesn’t crash…. See y’all then…..
and May the Metaphorse be with you;
Blessed Be, dearest Carole, Mark, and Theresa…
and everyone else, too…
When I works, I works hard.
When I sits, I sits loose.
When I thinks, I falls asleep.
Which is Why….
Sometimes I sits and thinks,
I just sits.
gigoid the dubious