Bowled over by a Boston Brahmin….


“Reality is not a constant.”

~~ Smart Bee ~~

A Starry Combination

Image from Pictures of the Day, 3/23/2015

“Nobody knows the troubles I’ve seen…” Imagine you’re hearing that on the radio, standing in the shower, thinking about the past…. Then, imagine, for just a moment, you are not naked. What the hell are you doing in the shower fully clothed? Are you nuts? What possessed you to…. Oh, never mind…..

Howdy, ffolkes. As might be noted, I’m a bit under the weather, or, is that over the top? Probably the latter. Nevertheless, this still must get done; hence, the nonsensical BS in the opening paragraph, such as it is. I have little clue as to why that popped out, actually. It just seemed to want to be a part of today’s mess, though goodness knows why. It’s bad enough for us, who HAVE to do this, or go mad; choosing to do so isn’t what I’d call showing the best sense. But, then, what can one expect from a completely imaginary figment of my imagination, but for nonsense…..

I’m late again, of course; that’s why I can’t seem to find anything to talk about here. It’s all screwed up…. or, I suppose it would be more accurate to say I have once more screwed it all up. Such incompetence isn’t my natural milieu, I swear. I used to be considered a fairly competent person, back in the day…. I guess we all fall into that hole when we get to a certain age; it sure doesn’t help to know that, I’ll tell you for sure. It does, however, offer an excuse, and, maybe, if we’re bold enough, it will get us out of this seemingly endless display of idiocy….

You may be asking yourself WHY you made the decision to stop in, today of all days, when I can’t seem to find my way out of the intro. Go ahead, ask…. it doesn’t matter, because I can’t tell you. I’m having enough trouble hooking up this emergency kit, which, if I don’t get done in the next 20 seconds, won’t work at all…. There! Got it…. Okay, ffolkes, I’ll have to ask y’all to return to your seats now. This particular little method for getting us down the page is a little rough; oh, hell, I’ll be honest. It’s a fucking disaster, but, it works. Just close your eyes, (or, put on the masks provided in your seat back in front….), hold on to your neighbor’s hand, and pray!….. We’re goin’ in……

Shall we Pearl?

“It is easy in the world to live after the world’s opinion; it is easy in solitude to live after our own; but the great man is he who in the midst of the crowd keeps with perfect sweetness the independence of solitude.” — Ralph Waldo Emerson


jimi h

Image from via Google stock images

It’s time for another blast from my past…. This man needs no introduction; simply, the most talented guitarist who ever lived…. Had he lived longer, the entire world would have known his name, forever. As it is, his early work remains some of the strongest, most brilliant pieces of impromptu, innovative brilliance ever heard on the guitar; the like will never be heard again…. Ladies and gentle ffolk, I give you Jimi Hendrix…..


The Jimi Hendrix Experience – Purple Haze





Ffolkes….. I first wrote this ode shortly before Noah’s passing, in 2011, posting it online at some pet-oriented website by Triond, an online posting brokerage for bloggers, or other authors wishing to post anything online… I have used it here on WP a couple times, correcting typos here and there as I find them. This time, I’ve gone through to polish up the style and errors of syntax, grammar, or just plain dumbass non-professional writer mistakes which I’ve learned to avoid, or edit. It should have more impact, and be easier to read; I hope you enjoy it. I loved this dog as much as any I’ve had in my life, if not more; he was indeed my best friend for a long time….


Noah Dog, 1994 ~ 2011

“We give them the love we can spare, the time we can spare.  In return dogs have given us their absolute all.  It is without a doubt the best deal man has ever made.” — Roger Caras, “A Celebration of Dogs”

An Ode to Noah

Noah came to live with us when he was about 10 months old; we rescued him from taking the long walk at the Humane Society kennel in Santa Rosa. It was my son’s fifteenth birthday; he wanted a dog, swearing up & down he would take responsibility for its’ care. Pets were always part of family life when I grew up, a policy I’d followed in my own; our last dog had been gone for a bit over a year, so it was time to expand the family once again.

As the door opened into the kennel where the dogs were held for viewing, a large variety of dogs started a welcoming cacophony of different barks; shrill tiny ones, deep booming ones, polite yips, all blended together in an almost desperate frenzied concert, as each animal, many of them almost frantic, tried to get our attention. Some pawed at the gate, some jumped up, some looked nervous, others looked friendly, and all of them, it seemed, were making noise.

When we drew near the last cage in the aisle, we saw a medium-sized, sad-eyed, black and white dog, not barking, not jumping, just sitting down, leaning against the wall by the gate. He was looking me right in the eyes, with an expression on his face that just said, “Get me out of here, please!”. What could we do? He was obviously our dog, so, we told him we’d be right back, then, went back out to the office to announce our choice, & complete the paperwork.

The attendant brought Noah in to us just as I finished. He looked a bit nervous, but, looked around with a curious, calm eye. That is, he was calm until I clasped his new collar around his neck, then hooked on his leash. All of a sudden, he realized he wasn’t going back into the kennel; instantly, he was a new dog, wagging his tail furiously, looking at us with his eyes shining, almost dancing and vibrating in his eagerness to go. As we walked back to the van, he walked proudly in front of us, looking back every few steps to make sure we were still there, tail and ears up, a very happy dog…..

Noah settled into the family immediately. He proved to be very well-mannered, both with people, as well as in his personal habits. When on walks, he would stop to sniff, and lift his leg, on every interesting bush and tree, just like any other male dog. But, when he had to do his secondary business, he made it clear he preferred to go behind a bush, or somewhere out of the way, preferably out of sight.

He’d assume a very embarrassed expression when not sufficiently hidden from sight, turning away, refusing to look up, as if he felt guilty. A very private, discreet individual, to say the least. If he had been overlong between walks, so much in a hurry he made a mistake on the sidewalk, he would act just like a cat, refusing to even look at it, pretending it had not happened. “What mess? Who, me? I don’t know what you’re talking about. C’mon, let’s GO….”

Noah was an extremely intelligent dog. I can say that, as I’ve known a great many animals in my time on this old planet; he was one of the smartest I’ve ever been around, in spite of very minimal formal training. When he came to live with us, he already knew how to sit on command (both voice and hand), to lie down, and to stay. All without needing to be reinforced, I might add….

Well, in truth, he did have a little bit (actually, a LOT) of trouble with the whole concept of stay; he didn’t like being left alone, I guess. When told to stay somewhere out in public, he would often follow after a minute or two; it’s like he just didn’t want to believe we really MEANT for him to stay. He figured he should be with us so he could do his job. As long as he could see us, he’d stay where he was; if he couldn’t, he believed it was his place to find us; in his whole life, we just couldn’t come to terms about it; on this point he was firm.

We also never had to teach Noah any tricks, as he seemed to have figured stuff out on his own, & his way was definitely cool…. The first time I ever gave him a treat (a milk bone), I showed it to him, told him to sit. He sat. I told him to speak; he gave one quick, obviously joyous howl. I held out my hand, & he offered his own to shake. I straightened up, tossed the treat in the air, for him to catch….

I then watched him not merely catch the darn thing, but, after making the in-air snag, he tossed it back up into the air. With a gleefully joyful expression, he watched it hit the floor, whereupon he dove on top of it, rolled over on his back on top of it, & began to perform  a happy dance, by twisting his back and hips as if scratching his back on the floor. I swear, he looked just like Snoopy doing the Dance of Joy. When he was done dancing on his back, he rolled over, with a smug smile, proceeding to enjoy his milk bone, with a big twinkle in his eye. I always wanted to video the move to submit it for Stupid Pet Tricks on the Letterman Show, but never had a camera handy when he performed his feat, so Noah missed his chance for stardom.

Noah’s gotten old now; we just observed his 17th birthday in February of this year; in dog years, he’s going on 120 or so. He can’t hear anything but very loud noises, can’t see more than a few feet; I suspect all he sees now is mostly shadows and moving light. I’m afraid he will be passing on soon, as he can no longer get up without assistance, or fully control his bodily functions. I sometimes feel like I should have him put down, to ease his pains, but he doesn’t act as if he is hurting, and I can tell he enjoys just lying around, dozing, as long as he knows I am near.

For his entire life with us, over 17 years, Noah has been a true and loyal companion. He has observed, with honor, the pact made between man and dog, many thousands of generations ago. Thus, taking care of him in his declining years is both a privilege, and an honor. In my entire life, I have never known anyone more loyal, human, or animal, more compassionate, or more courageous in standing up to life. He is by far the best friend that any man could hope for; what’s more, he is, by far, the best person I’ve ever known……

Rest in peace, my old friend….



Image from Google Stock Images

Today, it is only one of mine, simply because I’m so late I didn’t have time to go look for anyone else’s…. Since I have not ranted in DAYS, this one should sublimate for me a bit….

gigoid’s lament

Not a bit of all the pain I feel
is worse than all I see;
all worldly truth, solid and real,
has faded away, never to be free.

Honor stripped of all regard,
while compassion simply fails;
 Ignorance , powerful, hard,
crows as reason wails.

Crushing resistance, mandating the vote,
selling illusion, smiling all the while.
Pundits, speaking purely by rote,
arrange all the lies in a tidy pile.

Stupidity ’tis said, is a risky choice;
the price is always the same.
Reality has no pity, no warning ever voiced,
only a gravestone, carved with, our name.
~~ gigoid ~~


Morning muse

    Ffolkes…. the following old school pearl is damn near perfect. I say so only because there is nothing about it I can find to indicate it is anything LESS than perfect…. Ergo, it would be a good idea for y’all to pay close attention, and use all of your reasoning abilities, both inductive, and deductive, to form the intended conclusion(s)…. There… if that wasn’t obscure enough, or confounding enough, well, I can try again…. No, okay, here you go; pay heed, this will definitely be on the Quiz we all must take to exit this life…..

What’s madness but nobility of soul
At odds with circumstance?
~~ Theodore Roethke, “In a Dark Time” ~~

“If it had been a bear it would have bit you.” — Jonathan Swift (1667-1745) — Polite Conversation, Dialogue i

“The devil does not stay where the music is.” — Smart Bee

“It’s a poor sort of memory that only works backwards,” the Queen remarked.” — Lewis Carroll, “Through the Looking-Glass”

“Each of us visits this Earth involuntarily, and without an invitation. For me, it is enough to wonder at the secrets.” — Albert Einstein

“I am he as you are he as you are me and we are all together!” — (The Beatles) I Am The Walrus

“Anything that kills you makes you…well, dead.” — Very, very Smart Bee

“Sure, understanding today’s complex world of the future is a little like having bees live in your head.  But there they are . . .” — The Firesign Theater, “I Think We’re All Bozos on This Bus!”

All things must change
to something new, to something strange.~~ Henry Wadsworth Longfellow ~~


It’s done; not without a struggle, but, done nonetheless. (I will say, this vertigo crap is getting old, fast.) In fact, so done, I’m already gone…. See y’all tomorrow, ffolkes….

Y’all take care out there,
and May the Metaphorse be with you;
Blessed Be, dearest Carole, Mark,Theresa, & Richy
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,
   and sometimes,
I just sits.

gigoid, the dubious


“SCRAM!!!!!!!!!!”- Oscar the Grouch

Featured image

À bientôt, mon cherí….


Openly brazen kittens are easily aggravated…..

On those mornings when it all seems clear, I can jump right into the water, and start typing away (the water is figurative, naturally…), heedless of the rules set forth many years ago to keep writers confined to a narrow little strip of possibility. In the Great Shrug that took place in the 90’s, all those rules were examined and verified to be pertinent to the writer’s art. But you know how I am about rules; they only apply when I say they apply, and not a moment before. So let’s take a moment to heave those rules out the window, and get on with the program for today, eh what?….

“In the end, more than freedom, they wanted security. They wanted a comfortable life, and they lost it all – security, comfort and freedom. When the Athenians finally wanted not to give to society but for society to give to them, when the freedom they wished for most was freedom from responsibility then Athens ceased to be free and was never free again.” — Edward Gibbon, Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, Chapter 29

Sound familiar? It should; it’s a perfect description of modern society. Americans no longer deserve the freedoms they were given, for they are all too willing to give them up in exchange for a false sense of security. The beloved ruling class goaded the unstable fanatics so prevalent in the middle east until they, out of their fear and loathing of Western ideals (and bombs), struck out in acts of senseless violence against civilian populations. Once they had done so, then those self-same manipulators then trumpeted the tune of “homeland security” and “have to break a few eggs to make an omelet” so long and loud that the public’s fears were whipped into a frenzy of hatred toward those who attacked out of their own fear, and allowed certain freedoms to be abridged in the name of defense.

I could go on; in fact I often do. But, I’m tired of trying to arouse people and alert them to the danger to our liberties, because nobody seems to be listening. It has been obvious for some time that the people who are running this country are pursuing their own agenda, and that agenda is in no way meant to benefit you or me. It is designed specifically to preserve the status quo, to keep the public ignorant and confused, and easily manipulated. And everyone just sits there and takes it. Oh, there are minor disturbances, such as the Occupy protests that continue, but even those are losing momentum, as the Machine just ignores them until they go away. Nothing has changed, and nothing will change, as long as the American people continue to allow their freedoms to be taken away, by the very people they elected to protect them…. I am disgusted, and I’m gonna buy a gun…. because I’ll be damned if they are going to take my freedom away. The price for that will be steep….

“The genius of our ruling class is that it has kept a majority of the people from ever questioning the inequity of a system where most people drudge along, paying heavy taxes for which they get nothing in return.” — Gore Vidal

“Strange, because they are so frankly and hysterically insane — like all dreams: a God who could make good children as easily as bad, yet preferred to make bad ones; who could have made every one of them happy, yet never made a single happy one; who made them prize their bitter life, yet stingily cut it short; who gave his angels eternal happiness unearned, yet required his other children to earn it; who gave his angels painless lives, yet cursed his other children with biting miseries and maladies of mind and body; who mouths justice and invented hell — mouths mercy and invented hell — mouths Golden Rules, and forgiveness multiplied by seventy times seven, and invented hell; who frowns upon crimes, yet commits them all; who created man without invitation, then tries to shuffle the responsibility for man’s acts upon man, instead of honorably placing it where it belongs, upon himself; and finally, with altogether divine obtuseness, invites this poor, abused slave to worship him!” — Mark Twain, _The Mysterious Stranger_

I guess I’m feeling antagonistic this morning. I feel that antagonism on a daily basis, and I do so because, damn it, somebody has to! Somebody has to buck the tide, to refuse to buy into the fear-mongering and manipulation, to boldly shout, “the emperor is naked!” when necessary. I’m sick to death of a society that claims to be Christian, but has no tolerance whatsoever for other people, especially if they don’t worship the same idol. And there’s one more thing I’ve never understood, nor could any of the clergy I asked about it tell me anything that would explain how putting Jesus’ figure on a cross and hanging it over the altar is any different than a Buddhist shrine, or the Mormon ‘tablets of gold’ given to Brigham Young by the Angel Moroni. It’s all worshiping an idol; as far as I can see, one has no inherent advantage of believability over another. But I’m supposed to shut my mouth and eyes to this nonsense, and go along quietly with having the legacy of the Founding Fathers eaten away by the nibbling of fearful little mice…..

“Now I’ll give YOU something to believe.  I’m just one hundred and one, five months and a day.” “I can’t believe THAT!” said Alice. “Can’t you?” the Queen said in a pitying tone.   “Try again: draw a long breath, and shut your eyes.” Alice laughed.   “There’s no use trying,” she said: “one CAN’T believe in impossible things.” “I daresay you haven’t had much practice,” said the Queen.  “When I was your age, I always did it for half-an-hour a day.  Why, sometimes I’ve believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast.” — Lewis Carroll, “Through the Looking-Glass”

So, what did you do before breakfast? If you’re like me, well, by breakfast time you’ve already created the Universe twice; it always takes two tries, it’s a complicated incantation, and you have to get the orbits just right, or it all crashes together and makes this Big Bang….. I think it’s a good thing to trot out a bit of nonsense now and again; especially when recent activities have included ranting and/or complaining in the guise of sharing the wealth. Besides, I couldn’t think of anything to put here that would be sillier than the Queen…. more’s the pity…..

“Writing and reading decrease our sense of isolation. They deepen and widen and expand our sense of life; they feed the soul. When writers make us shake our heads with the exactness of their prose and their truths, and even make us laugh about ourselves or life, our buoyancy is restored. We are given a shot at dancing with, or at least clapping along with, the absurdity of life, instead of being squashed by it over and over again. It’s like singing on a boat during a terrible storm at sea. You can’t stop the raging storm, but singing can change the hearts and spirits of the people who are together on that ship.” — Anne Lamott

I can’t claim that what I’m doing here always lives up to this, but I would say that this is an accurate statement of what I am shooting for when I write. There are brief moments when I feel as if I’ve gotten close, and on rare occasions, I write something that meets even my stringent standards of excellence. Not often enough, but the journey is the lesson, and mine has a long way to go before the last lines are written…. I just hope I’m still alive when I get there…. and can still appreciate it….    🙂

“Life is not the way it is supposed to be. It is the way it is. The way you cope with it is what makes the difference.” — Virginia Satir

Tactile; Commensurate; Xanthian; & Saarinen (Thanks to Carolyn of for supplying the words….)

In a recent post, I made the tactical error of issuing a challenge to my readers, to wit: give me four words, and as long as I can find a meaning listed somewhere for each word, I can make a sentence with all of them used in it. Here is today’s solution….

The tactile properties of the Saarinen furniture grouping is commensurate with that of the Xanthian chairs; though neither set displays any obvious or hidden puns, they both feel the same.

I warned y’all that it could be a little strange, and it certainly is. But all four words are there, and their meanings are implied in the context of the sentence. Et voilá……

It’s been a long strange trip this morning, so I’m gonna go now, and deal with the real world for a bit. It’s going to be a strange day, I have a feeling…. y’all take care out there…..

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