Tag Archives: Thomas Gray

Coping skills for bald penguins…..

Posted on by
Reply

Ffolkes,
Nature will always tell us, in her inimitable style, when we are getting too weird. I’ve had this proven to me on numerous occasions, as I have a tendency toward weird, a genetic gift from my grandfather, who made his living as “a performance artiste” around the turn of the 20th century. She (Nature, of course…) generally lets us know we have strayed beyond the boundaries of propriety in some grand, publicly embarrassing fashion, such as slyly convincing us that, “Yes! Everyone at the soirée really WANTS to see me dancing on a table with a lamp shade on my head!” Of course, she lied, but that doesn’t come out until later, when one is already in the doghouse……

What, you might ask, does this have to do with the morning Pearl? Not a damn thing that I know of…. when I sat down to type, this is what came out….. Oh, it’s all true, though I believe it might have been a colander rather than a lamp shade…. I’m pretty sure I remember thinking (if what I do when deeply influenced by the Beast can be called such….) that the colander had a cool, spaceman look to it, which is why I wore it. But there is nothing from that night (a night whose memory, blurred as it is, I keep in the category of ~I-hoped-it-had-been-forgotten~….) that has anything to do with getting this Pearl finished. Or, rather, started….

I suppose it’s just another of the odd little mind-games I play with myself during this introductory section. Though it doesn’t have anything to do with creating a Pearl, one could say that it helped in the process, by giving me something to do for a beginning, even though it has absolutely no relation to anything remotely interesting. Of course, if you are the kind of reader who enjoys thinking of the author in embarrassing situations, well, then, I guess this is right up your alley…. Boy, and they call ME weird!

Regardless of why, or how, or even if, this intro section evolved into its present state, here it is, four paragraphs later, still trying to find the doorway into the diving area, so we can go find some pearls. Oh, wait, I see it now!…. Okay, we can now stop discussing this abysmal foray into weirdness, and get on with the day’s business…. Shall we Pearl?…..
___________________________________

“Ninety-eight percent of the adults in this country are decent,  hard-working, honest Americans.  It’s the other lousy two percent that get all the publicity.  But then–we elected them.” — Lily Tomlin

During the Occupy Wall Street demonstrations, the true financial picture of humanity was drawn, with the ratio being 99% to 1%. It seems that Lily had noted this phenomenon somewhat earlier in time, using slightly different, but no less valid, figures of 98% to 2%. I think it would be safe to say that these two statements are equal, and pretty much describe accurately how society is structured, financially, and, as it turns out, morally….

That simple fact is what makes it so hard for me to accept what takes place in the public arena, without having to resort to ranting. Not that I mind ranting, far from it….. but it’s hard to accept the truth of the situation, because that truth is that people have actually CHOSEN to put themselves in the situation we have today. Actually, it is more accurate to say, it is due to the inaction of those who disagree with the politicians and corporate pirates; they get disgusted and don’t vote, so all the idiots who fall for the BS being flung around end up voting the thieves back into office, every time……

I mean, it’s not as if the truth isn’t out there to be found. Every day, people like me, and Jueseppi B., and 3hickspolitico, and a lot of other web sites, write the truth about what is being said in the public arena. We rant, and show, by way of incontrovertible recorded audio and video proof, that the talking heads are lying their butts off, and people just nod their heads and ignore it, preferring to bury their heads in the sand rather than accept the truth.

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

It is disheartening to say the least, when so many folks choose ignorance over truth; it is almost enough for me to wash my hands of it, and let them enjoy the fruits of their ignorant choices. Unfortunately, that means that I, too, must put up with the thieves who suck from the public tit, and that is not acceptable to me. I’m tired of having to look away, or ignore the latest outrage from that quarter, just to stay sane. SIGH….

Far from the madding crowd’s ignoble strife
Their sober wishes never learn’d to stray;
Along the cool sequester’d vale of life
They kept the noiseless tenor of their way.
— Thomas Gray (1716-1771) — Elegy in a Country Churchyard, Stanza 19

But, so be it. Hating it, and complaining about it won’t make it go away…. all I can do is this. I write, time and time again, warning people of the crap they are putting up with, and show them how they are being used and abused by the beloved ruling classes. It’s probably just shouting into the wind, but since it is all I can do, I’ll keep doing it. After all, all you can do is all you can do….

“A police state is great, so long as you’re the police.” — Smart Bee
___________________________________

Okay, here is another “old-school” Pearl…. and yes, it makes a specific point. Read all of them, in order, and the message will be crystal clear…..

“The truth is that Christian theology, like every other theology, is not only opposed to the scientific spirit; it is also opposed to all other attempts at rational thinking. Not by accident does Genesis 3 make the father of knowledge a serpent- slimy, sneaking and abominable. Since the earliest days the church as an organization has thrown itself violently against every effort to liberate the body and mind of man. It has been, at all times and everywhere, the habitual and incorrigible defender of bad governments, bad laws, bad social theories, bad institutions. It was, for centuries, an apologist for slavery, as it was the apologist for the divine right of kings.” — H. L. Mencken

BIBLE : A bible is a book which one or more religions consider to be holy, and to be something that they should follow. It is of course generally rather impractical to follow books, not just because they  don’t often go anywhere, but also because they are not very good at public speaking, decision making, problem solving, or any of the other qualities recognized as being an advantage for leadership. A religion based around the teachings of any compilation of Toxic Custard would be very strange indeed. To subscribe to this new cult following, send $15 now. — Daniel Bowen’s TOXIC CUSTARPEDIA

“Angels, I read, belong to nine different orders. Seraphs are the highest; they are aflame with love for God; cherubs, who are second, possess perfect knowledge of him. So love is greater than knowledge; how could I have forgotten? The seraphs are born of a stream of fire issuing from under God’s throne… Moving perpetually toward God, they perpetually praise him, crying Holy, Holy, Holy… But, they can sing only the first ‘Holy’ before the intensity of their love ignites them again and dissolves them again, perpetually into flames. ‘Abandon everything,’ Dionysius the Areopagite told his disciple. ‘God despises ideas.’ — Annie Dillard, “Holy the Firm”

“Man has a single basic choice:  to think or not, and that is the measure of his virtue.  Moral perfection is an unbreached rationality — not the degree of your intelligence, but the full and relentless use of your mind, not the extent of your knowledge, but the acceptance of reason as an absolute.” — John Galt

“Men become civilized, not in proportion to their willingness to believe, but in their readiness to doubt.” — H. L. Mencken

“The sagacious reader who is capable of reading between these lines what does not stand written in them, but is nevertheless implied, will be able to form some conception.” — Goethe (1749-1832)  — Autobiography, Book xviii, Truth and Beauty

There you go…. I can’t make it any plainer than that…..
___________________________________

A Party Of Lovers

Pensive they sit, and roll their languid eyes,
Nibble their toast, and cool their tea with sighs,
Or else forget the purpose of the night,
Forget their tea — forget their appetite.
See with cross’d arms they sit — ah! happy crew,
The fire is going out and no one rings
For coals, and therefore no coals Betty brings.
A fly is in the milk-pot — must he die
By a humane society?
No, no; there Mr. Werter takes his spoon,
Inserts it, dips the handle, and lo! soon
The little straggler, sav’d from perils dark,
Across the teaboard draws a long wet mark.
Arise! take snuffers by the handle,
There’s a large cauliflower in each candle.
A winding-sheet, ah me! I must away
To No. 7, just beyond the circus gay.
‘Alas, my friend! your coat sits very well;
Where may your tailor live?’ ‘I may not tell.
O pardon me — I’m absent now and then.
Where might my tailor live? I say again
I cannot tell, let me no more be teaz’d —
He lives in Wapping, might live where he pleas’d.’

John Keats

Hmm…. it seems that young Mr. Keats also had issues with society…. but he sure could make it sound important! I like the ending especially, with its tongue firmly entrenched in his cheek….. Enjoy!
___________________________________

Often, reaching the end of a day’s work is a surprise, at least from a time-centered view. Nonetheless, I have done so again, and feel it would be best not to fuss with it any further. Knowing when to walk away is the most important skill we have, in a lot of ways…. Y’all take care out there, and May the Metaphorse be with you…..

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

gigoid

Dozer

Kowabunga!

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

Posted on by
15

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

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

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

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

“I can wear my shirts as pants.” — Smart Bee

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

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

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

I am now drawing my shirt up over my legs, buttoning up, tying the tie I’m using as a belt, and will now proceed to search out a gorgeous, shiny new pearl, which I fully expect to be waiting for me when I arrive at the oyster beds…… last warning…..
___________________________________

“One can imagine a sane, healthy, cheerful human society based on no more than the principles of common sense, as validated each day by work, play, and living experience. But this remains the most Utopian and fantastic of ideals.” — Edward Abbey

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

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

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

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

“And sometimes the bear eats you.”– Smart Bee
___________________________________

ART, n.  This word has no definition.  Its origin is related as follows by the ingenious Father Gassalasca Jape, S.J.

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

— Ambrose Bierce, “The Devil’s Dictionary”

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

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

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

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

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

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

I hate to mention things like this in this feature, but it is one of the more pressing problems in America today, and that is the lack of tap-dancers in the Miss America contest. — Smart Bee (On the strength of the mere existence of this phrase, that it can even be uttered in jest, I rest my case…..)
___________________________________

DAMN, v.  A word formerly much used by the Paphlagonians, the meaning of which is lost.  By the learned Dr. Dolabelly Gak it is believed to have been a term of satisfaction, implying the highest possible degree of mental tranquility.  Professor Groke, on the contrary, thinks it expressed an emotion of tumultuous delight, because it so frequently occurs in combination with the word _jod_ or _god_, meaning “joy.”  It would be with great diffidence that I should advance an opinion conflicting with that of either of these formidable authorities. — Ambrose Bierce, “The Devil’s Dictionary”

Delightful! Such eloquent nonsense! It needs no embellishment, and will receive none here. It is here only to tickle my sense of whimsy, which strikes at odd moments, but is always welcome….. just enjoy it, and move on, with a little smile gracing your face….
___________________________________

The bustle in a house
The morning after death
Is solemnest of industries
Enacted upon earth,
The sweeping up the heart,
And putting love away
We shall not want to use again
Until eternity.
— Emily Dickinson

At last! At last, a fitting pearl with which to end this marathon. Finding this particularly shiny, perfectly formed pearl from Ms. Emily has made my entire morning! Such power, such beauty, such insight, such masked pain, and such hope, all condensed into the simplest, most compelling grouping of words one can imagine.  Serendipity has indeed rewarded my perseverance and discipline this morning, throwing this into my path as a parting gift. It puts the perfect cap on the discussion above re: modern Art, providing a counterpoint to the examples of Art we are daily bombarded with in the media circus of modern life. Bonus!….. and the perfect ending point…..
___________________________________

The best laid schemes o’ mice and men
Gang aft a-gley;
And leave us naught but grief and pain
For promised joy.
— Robert Burns, To a Mouse

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

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

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

gigoid

Kowabunga!

Drizzled with mere seconds to spare….

Posted on by
14

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

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

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

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

Good advice… let’s see how close we can come to following it….. Kowabunga!
___________________________________

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

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

I find hacker culture and mythology fascinating, as it is often based on concepts and ideas from science- and speculative-fiction, and fantasy, all blended together into such creatively conceived entities as Shub-Internet…. a creature both terrifying and playful….. Kind of like Lord Voldemort on laughing gas, but uglier, if you can picture that…. The highest form of humor to a hacker would be for Curly Joe to catch the Wolfman or Dracula with the old exploding cigar gag, in a movie where Curly is a programmer and Dracula is a management suit….. all after an elegant hack that saved the world, and the company, from evil bureaucrats from the Fast Food Dimension…..
___________________________________

“Even for a wizard there will often come times when someone close to you, perhaps even your spouse, criticizes your habits by comparing them to those of animals. This is distinctly unfair to the animals, who have far better habits than we in many areas. When, for example, have you seen a frog collecting taxes or a squirrel running for electoral office? Present arguments like these to those people who criticize you. If they still do not see the wisdom of your ways, you may then feel free to bite them.” — The Teachings of Ebenezum, Vol. IX

Now, this is a philosophical attitude I can really get behind. I cannot begin to count how many conversations just like this I have had over the course of my life, with those who don’t like, or more often, and more accurately, don’t understand me or what I say and do.  While I’ve been either fortunate enough, or nice enough to not have run across a great many folks who are actively upset by my admittedly unusual mannerisms and expressions, there have been many who, because of their own dissatisfaction with their own lives, find it hard to keep their noses out of mine, or anyone else’s for that matter….. A lot of them wear badges, or work in government bureaucracies, and are just smart enough to realize how badly they have screwed up their own lives, so they try to make themselves feel better by criticizing whatever other folks are up to….. it’s pathetic, really…. and well worth the hullabaloo that ensues after administering the evidence of our displeasure….
___________________________________

But Knowledge to their eyes her ample page,
Rich with the spoils of time, did ne’er unroll;
Chill penury repress’d their noble rage,
And froze the genial current of the soul.
— Thomas Gray (1716-1771) — Elegy in a Country Churchyard, Stanza 13

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

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

Life is so simple when you don’t know what you’re talking about. — Smart Bee  (Isn’t that what Bush Jr., the Shrub, had printed around the edges of the national seal while he was in office? I think it was….or should have been…. I know it was printed on his cards….)
___________________________________

What can I say? I’m a sucker for puppies…. found this on Facebook a few days ago, and just love it!….

___________________________________

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

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

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

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

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

iT’s HArD tO tYPe WHilE HolDiNG a cAT…

Puns are bad, but poetry is verse.

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

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

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

Okay, okay, settle down! I can hear you whimpering in pain, no need to shout…. I’m done now, so you can take a moment to go lick your wounds in private….. see you below in a few minutes…..
___________________________________

A long, strange trip indeed….. I’m kind of glad it’s over, and we can get on with the rest of the day. The chances of it being better than it has thus far been willing to allow will no doubt increase the further from Now we get…. well, I AM and optimist at heart…. perhaps it would be best to just stick to the usual approach, expecting nothing, and enjoying the actual results, whatever they may be….. what with the rather capricious events that have thus far been our lot, that is probably for the best….. Y’all take care out there….

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

gigoid

Kowabunga!


Building velour anodynes for the Navy…..

Posted on by
19

Ffolkes,
It is gratifying, and a little bit scary, at how quickly this blog has become the focus of my entire day. I’m now following about 75 or 80 blogs that have piqued my interest, and keeping up with them involves a significant period of time each day now, else I get buried in email notifications. It’s time-consuming, but also a lot of fun for me, as I get to read all-new original material from a variety of talented folks to my heart’s content. Then there is the 1.5 to 3 hours it takes most days to create these Pearls of Virtual Wisdom, insisting as I do on a certain level of quality. I’m busy as a one-armed paper hanger, and loving every minute!

In addition, I have met and now have 70+ people whose blogs I follow, or who follow mine, and whom I consider to be new friends, with whom I have the opportunity to share experiences, thoughts, dreams, and troubles, knowing that there are folks who are empathetic, supportive, honestly and tactfully critical when appropriate (I hope), and most importantly, interested in what I create.

Also, I have met, and now communicate with, a large number of folks with whom communication is not a chore, but a recurrent pleasure; I don’t feel I have to explain every other reference I make, and people get my jokes (such as they are…..).  Perhaps best of all, I have been introduced to the work of several people whose poetry simply astounds me, with its power and sheer talent. At least two of the poetesses write with such clarity and power, or with such abundant love, I get shivers on a regular basis…. sublime is the best way to describe the feeling their work brings.

One of the ways I am determined to show my appreciation for the serendipitous pleasure I get from all this new stimulation is to make what I create the very best I can. I have to…. it’s the only way I can think of to maintain a feeling of parity with all the talented folks I’ve come across. And I hope that what I write continues to give other folks as much pleasure to read as it does for me to bring it to life….. what goes around, comes around, and that’s just fine with me….. let’s go Pearling, shall we?……
___________________________________

“A “practical joker” (substitute ‘busybody’ here) deserves applause for his wit according to its quality. Bastinado is about right.  For exceptional wit one might grant keelhauling. But staking him out on an anthill should be reserved for the very wittiest.” — Lazarus Long, from Robert A. Heinlein’s, “Time Enough For Love”

I substituted for Mr. Heinlein’s subject bozoid, replacing the not-so-prevalent ‘practical joker’ (most of whom were stifled, or driven into hiding, in the last wave of occupational health & safety purges, when they trained all workers to avoid such behavior as being unsafe) with the more ubiquitous ‘busybody’, of which there are legion, generally at least one for each neighborhood. Lazarus Long calls such folks “Mrs. Grundy”, which I always thought was unfair to the Mrs. Grundy in Archie Comics, who was kind of the American ideal of every student’s favorite teacher, the one who was always on the side of the students…… but I digress…..

Today’s Mrs. Grundy’s have even more reasons in their tiny little minds to justify their just plain nosiness about other folk’s business; for example, they are the ones who will call Animal Control because your cat pooped in their garden once, three weeks ago. (Even cats won’t go into yards where they don’t feel welcome) Or they’ll call and complain about party noise, at about 7 PM on a Saturday night, even though you took the time to deliver them an invitation personally, and nicely requested they call you if disturbed. Or they’ll watch all your visitors like a hawk, and then spread rumors about them to all your neighbors.

I have noted, in my own observations of this odd bird, that Mrs. Grundy (who is sometimes a querulous old man with no teeth, and a belly that precedes him through a door by 2 full seconds) is usually the same person who “just loves” that young man, Ron Santo, or Santini,  I think his name is; you know, the guy who obviously hates women and would like to see all of them barefoot, pregnant, and in the kitchen, ala 1882, or whatever far right zealot has the public eye this election cycle. She (or he) attends one of those churches where the pastor makes periodic predictions as to the imminence of the Rapture (a particularly paranoid apocalypse fantasy common to a lot of “Born Again” or evangelical denominations) (I always wonder, what was wrong with the first time they were Born? I told my mom I wanted to be “Born Again” and she said, “NO WAY!”…..) (I wish that was an original joke, but I heard it somewhere….)   🙂

At any rate, these folks, who really don’t like themselves, or anyone else, continue to be the sand in the wheel joints of society, using their highly developed sense of intolerance and ignorance to bother and befuddle everyone they live around, complicating their life, and that of everyone with whom they come into contact. 

As far as I can tell from history, this has been true since people started living in groups, in caves, teepees, or igloos; all of them had at least one Mrs. Grundy around the fire, complaining about the stones on the communal path, the noisy kids in the next cave, or having to share their firewood….. I guess they’ll always be with us, until such a time as humanity learns how to stamp out the inherent pettiness and cowardice that mark these folks; until everyone, including Mrs. Grundy, learns to be happy with what they have, and people stop trying to make everyone else over into their own distorted and fearful image……

“Why waste time learning when ignorance is instantaneous?” — Calvin and Hobbes

“Freedom begins when you tell Mrs. Grundy to go fly a kite.” — Lazarus Long
___________________________________

I noticed, in looking back over recent offerings, that I have been somewhat short on poetry, a serious lack that I shall now correct, at least temporarily. While on a recent dive, these four short but sweet jewels popped up in front of my gratified gaze, one after the other, boom, boom, boom, boom, so I knew they should all be presented together, as a little snack for the soul before getting into something a bit meatier….. enjoy!….

But, oh! fell death’s untimely frost
That nipt my flower sae early.
— Robert Burns (1759-1796) — Highland Mary

It may be glorious to write
Thoughts that shall glad the two or three
High souls, like those far stars that come in sight
Once in a century.
— James Russell Lowell (1819-1891) — An Incident in a Railroad Car

He pass’d the flaming bounds of place and time:
The living throne, the sapphire blaze,
Where angels tremble while they gaze,
He saw; but blasted with excess of light,
Closed his eyes in endless night.
— Thomas Gray (1716-1771) — The Progress of Poesy, III, 2, Line 4

And we are here as on a darkling plain
Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight,
Where ignorant armies clash by night.
— M. Arnold, “Dover Beach”

Ahhhh……. that’s nice! I am compelled to Haiku…..

POETRY

Flashing, bright words create

inevitable images;

truth consumes.

–gigoid
___________________________________

It is the nature of mankind to confuse genius with insanity. — Anonymous (possibly the history’s greatest philosopher; the most prolific, at any rate…..)

Aha! That explains that!….. Now I understand why I always get those funny looks!…. 🙂 Besides, what are ya gonna do with someone who thinks the following is like, massively funny?…..

What goes siss boom bah?
An exploding sheep.

I’d best go on to something a bit less…. silly….. I could get stuck in this mode….
___________________________________

“I don’t make jokes.  I just watch the government and report the facts.” — Will Rogers

I was going to use this as a springboard for another rant on our beloved ruling class….. But, the more I thought about it, the longer it percolated in my brain, the sadder I grew….

I used to feel a lot of love for my country, if for nothing else, because of the dream of liberty and human empowerment that our system of government was designed, and intended, to create and maintain. The founding fathers had a vision, of a country where every man had the same opportunities to live their live as they chose as every other man, without censure, and without the fear of being persecuted for their beliefs, no matter how different they were from everyone else’s. A dream of a place where children could grow up without the fear of hunger, or abuse, or death from the skies, or the water they drink. A place where a man, or a woman, was respected for just being human, without having to prove their worth to some ignorant asshole who is afraid of any color skin but their own, or for how big and holy their imaginary friend is……

Instead, we live in a society whose diverse segments have an extreme, deep, and sadly justified, mistrust of each other, where the rich and powerful, instead of uplifting their fellow man, use their influence and wealth to divide and discriminate, and to keep the less fortunate powerless to even hope for better. A society that ignores its elderly, and abuses its children, where people are starving in the midst of mountains of food. A culture that glorifies war, and sees peaceful coexistence as weakness; a culture where it is a crime for a man to kill another for honor, but is praised for being part of an army of professional killers. A country where the twin concepts of honor and duty have been supplanted as the basis of our national character by avarice and expediency.

Yes, I am saddened by Will’s joke, because it is all too real, and all too accurate……
___________________________________

“It’s hard to be religious when certain people are never incinerated by bolts of lightning.” — Calvin, Bill Watterson’s Calvin & Hobbes

Jimmy Swaggert, and that other 5 or  6 televangelists who regularly get caught literally with their pants down come immediately to mind for inclusion in this group……. Newt Gingrich, obviously, for congenital lying, and excessive sliminess…. Rick Santorum, because I can’t imagine an entity as smart as God is reputed to be allowing this ….. person…. speak in His Name for very long without exacting some price….. Twitt Romney, that elitist asshole…..and as Yul Brynner so beautifully stated: “Et cetera, et cetera, et cetera…..” to which I would add, “and a cast of thousands, ad nauseam infinitum…..”

I suppose it also says something less than admirable about the media, and those who are its rapt audience, to note that a lot of what we are exposed to by the members of the (supposed) fifth column consists of the “least” admirable denizens of our species, who unfortunately are the ones who make for salable news, the material that will pay for the advertising costs, so we can be sure to hear about the latest, greatest new product that fills some previously unknown manufactured need.

The stuff that sells papers, or TV shows, as it turns out, is endless reports about the stupidest, most egregious examples of a seemingly limitless number of fanatic religious zealots, unprosecuted criminals wearing power suits and ties, and a parade of sports and entertainment figures with an average IQ of 77 who are the current examples of “famous celebrities” we are supposed to fawn over, and use as our idols for emulation.

I often feel a sense of despair after reading the news…. fortunately, I have WordPress to alleviate any dangerous build-up of bile….. but, all-too-often, it sure makes me wish for a few well-placed bolts of lightning to provide some comic relief, at least…..
___________________________________

We come reluctantly to the end of another…… hmmm… sometimes I just don’t know what to call this… let’s use ‘another day’s output’… that’s generic enough to fit in just about any set of parameters…. it feels like a good one, but only time, and my Gentle Readers, can make the final judgment on that…. Y’all take care out there……

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

gigoid

Dozer

Kowabunga!