Bee balm is often useful with such wounds…

Posted on March 17, 2013 by gigoid

Ffolkes,
“What we have heah, is a failyuh to obfuscate.” On that hopelessly obscure note, the tiny little alien, which looked suspiciously like a miniature orange bulldog in a green jumpsuit, wobbled what was apparently his head weakly from side to side, formed what seemed to be a smile with what seemed to be a mouth, closed what appeared to be his eyes (I think it’s a he…), and fell backwards into the lap of the fat dignitary seated in back of the podium…. the mayor, I believe….

Everything would have been okay, but the mayor thought the alien was going to throw up on him, and proceeded to dump the poor wee beastie off the stage, into the crowd, which started using him for a soccer ball…. A real mess…. While it wasn’t the most dignified ending to a press conference I’d seen in my days in the mayor’s office, it was better than the one we tried to hold after the sewers all exploded at once…. No matter how hard we blew the fans, the smell wouldn’t disperse….

Ever since the entropy bomb went off last year, it’s been pretty crazy around here, what with the Anti-Alien groups fighting it out with the End of Timers, while the remnants of the churches are busy dealing with the twelve disciples, who ALL rose from the dead, and are now recanting their stories on the talk show circuit, with franchised copies of the shows running even on Al-Jazeera….. When the Chief of the World Police issued his proclamation of insanity, and said his officers would now be found patrolling the subways, because it was too dangerous for them on the streets, well, things really began to deteriorate….

I was sitting here, trying to think of how society might look AFTER the apocalypse happens, and came up with the above….. It was fun, but, all in all, not as smooth flowing, or as good, as I’d like…. Not enough coffee before starting, I’d wager….I’ll do it over again another time, I think, and do a better job of it…. Don’t know why I started out in a negative entropy scenario, but, then, I never do know, do I? No, of course not…. I am perhaps the world’s first unconscious writer.

That is to say, what I write is seldom connected to a subject that has been chosen consciously, and much of what gets written comes from the same unreliable well of inspiration. This is, arguably, an unusual format, but seems to work for me… It works well enough that I’m not willing to entertain the thought of going back to the way everyone else does it, unless I use the “in your cups” method of writing, wherein one creates while intoxicated on adult beverages, or recreational drugs, such as marijuana, or bourbon…. muses of choice, such as they are…. But, they have their own drawbacks, and plain old objective inattention works just fine for me…. It’s cheaper, too….

Of course, this opinion is probably not shared completely by those who read my work; in fact, I would doubt it seriously. But, I don’t write for anyone but myself, ultimately, so I’m the only one who has any investment in making it right…. For others, to wit: y’all, it is merely a matter of finding stuff to read that doesn’t waste your time. Which is why I DO try to make what I write stimulating, and interesting, or at least within shouting distance of either one of those attributes….. I’m selfish, like most people, but I try to make what I’m selfish about amenable for discussion, at least…. and, unlike many folks in this sad world, I DON’T try to push what I think on anyone else….

A statement such as the last one is obviously an invitation to rant, but, since I’m still in the intro, we’ll forgo that small pleasure, and finish up here…. As I look back over what I’ve produced so far, I see that it is, oddly enough, sufficient unto the day as another faux intro section…. Once again, I’ve crafted together six-plus paragraphs stuffed with nothing more than idle chatter, which is enough to satisfy my strange and flexible standards for this part of today’s effort. In short, nyah, nyah, nyah, it’s done…. so there!….. Sorry, sometimes the little asshole in me just has to get in his two cents…. It’s best to just ignore it, and it will generally stop right away….. Shall we Pearl?….
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I found a pearl two days ago that I’ve saved for a religirant, but, as of this moment, I don’t have quite enough outrage stored up to pull it off…. so, I’ll save it for another day. It’s a diatribe with Mother Teresa as the target, so I’m sure you’ll all want to see that…. I may be one of the few people in the world who sees her as a force of evil, and is willing to say so…. Besides, I always enjoy taking a few shots at someone I consider to be a waste of sperm….. Her reputation can take it, I think, as she has the wool pulled completely over the eyes of most of the world….

In the meantime, I went diving for pearls to substitute for a rant, and came up with the following seven star grouping, with which I am quite pleased… The group makes a very cogent point, and finishes nicely with a well-rounded piece of nonsense to set the proper tone for cogitation…. I hope you enjoy it all, and, if not, well, that’s just too bad…. your choice…. 🙂

“The truth that many people never understand until it is too late, is that the more you try to avoid suffering, the more you suffer, because smaller and more insignificant things begin to torture you in proportion to your fear of being hurt.” — Thomas Merton

“If you think education is expensive, try Ignorance.” — Andy McIntyre

“Conventionality is not morality. Self-righteousness is not religion. To attack the first is not to assail the last.” — Charlotte Bronte
(The latter claim is, it seems to me, true for both initial statements….)

“At any given moment, an arrow must be either where it is or where it is not. But obviously it cannot be where it is not. And if it is where it is, that is equivalent to saying that it is at rest.” — Zeno’s paradox of the moving (still?) arrow

“True is suffering; this is true cause; this is true cessation; this is the true path. Know the sufferings; give up they causes; attain the cessation of the suffering; follow the true paths. Know the sufferings although there is nothing to know; relinquish the causes of misery although there is nothing to relinquish; be earnest in cessation although there is nothing to cease; practice the means of cessation although there is nothing to practice.” — Buddha, The Four Noble Truths

“A man learns to skate by staggering about making a fool of himself; indeed, he progresses in all things by making a fool of himself.” — George Bernard Shaw

“Is it NOUVELLE CUISINE when 3 olives are struggling with a scallop in a plate of SAUCE MORNAY?” — Zippy the Pinhead
(I would answer, yes, yes it is….)
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When I went looking for a poem this morning, I had not intended for today’s choice to be quite so heavy, or complex…. But, like much of Sylvia Plath’s work, I find this too compelling to ignore…. and, most certainly not, when it finishes like this, with a chilling bit of precognition about social media…

“The city is a map of cheerful twitters now,
And everywhere people, eyes mica-silver and blank,
Are riding to work in rows, as if recently brainwashed.”

Enjoy!

Insomniac

The night is only a sort of carbon paper,
Blueblack, with the much-poked periods of stars
Letting in the light, peephole after peephole . . .
A bonewhite light, like death, behind all things.
Under the eyes of the stars and the moon’s rictus
He suffers his desert pillow, sleeplessness
Stretching its fine, irritating sand in all directions.

Over and over the old, granular movie
Exposes embarrassments—the mizzling days
Of childhood and adolescence, sticky with dreams,
Parental faces on tall stalks, alternately stern and tearful,
A garden of buggy rose that made him cry.
His forehead is bumpy as a sack of rocks.
Memories jostle each other for face-room like obsolete film stars.

He is immune to pills: red, purple, blue . . .
How they lit the tedium of the protracted evening!
Those sugary planets whose influence won for him
A life baptized in no-life for a while,
And the sweet, drugged waking of a forgetful baby.
Now the pills are worn-out and silly, like classical gods.
Their poppy-sleepy colors do him no good.

His head is a little interior of grey mirrors.
Each gesture flees immediately down an alley
Of diminishing perspectives, and its significance
Drains like water out the hole at the far end.
He lives without privacy in a lidless room,
The bald slots of his eyes stiffened wide-open
On the incessant heat-lightning flicker of situations.

Nightlong, in the granite yard, invisible cats
Have been howling like women, or damaged instruments.
Already he can feel daylight, his white disease,
Creeping up with her hatful of trivial repetitions.
The city is a map of cheerful twitters now,
And everywhere people, eyes mica-silver and blank,
Are riding to work in rows, as if recently brainwashed.

~~ Sylvia Plath
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“If you have an important point to make, don’t try to be subtle or clever. Use a pile driver. Hit the point once. Then come back and hit it again. Then hit it a third time–a tremendous whack.” — Sir Winston Churchill

I have used this quote previously, usually as part of a group of pearls leading to some point or another; it’s a very good quote, strong, positive, with a solid essence of meaning. It’s also damn good advice, which I try to heed at every opportunity I give myself to rant…. Winnie had a very good point here, mainly because he had the task of getting an entire island full of asses who believe themselves to be independent minded to work together to save those selfsame asses from the Germans, who were themselves displaying their own form of assholiness…. A bloody disgusting task, if you ask me, but, he was obviously the man for the job, as he seldom gave a shit about what anyone else thought, about much of anything….

The insight shown in this statement, however, is much deeper than is at first apparent…. Winnie understood that the average Englishman, as is true for the whole planet, as a rule of thumb, is pretty stupid, and stubborn to boot, being mostly unwilling to listen to anything they don’t wish to hear, whether smart or dumb, much less see any need to act on it. This, as might be clear to others, as it is to me, is NOT a particularly valuable frame of mind if one wishes to survive, and Winnie, knowing his people, was quite willing to use a two-by-four as his primary teaching tool to get his points across to the idiots he was forced to deal with during WWII….

Sad to say, this stupidity on the part of the larger part of humanity continues to this day…. Witness, if you will, the current crop of movies, if you wish to get a clue as to where the mind of humanity is focused…. It may amaze you, and will most likely depress you, to see that there is not a single movie about anything more serious than adolescent acne anywhere to be seen… Oh, there are what are termed psychological thrillers, but, they are mostly just shock literature, designed to make a good screenplay more than to explore the human psyche…. Nothing out there is remotely intelligent, because there just isn’t a market for it…..

I’m not proposing any solutions here; this is strictly a gripe session, for my benefit only. I get so tired of watching the parade of human events, because it so often turns sad, and depressing, to see how stupid and ignorant people can be…. and how cowardly most people are in asserting morality in public…. You know a society is going downhill when the police drive around acting as if they are under siege, and the people do not trust them at all to show either fairness, or restraint. In the town where I live, the worst traffic offenders I see on a daily basis are the police, who set the worst possible example for other drivers, even, and especially, when they are NOT responding to calls….

And the government wonders why nobody trusts them? Our society is sick, ffolkes, and I’m out here with my pile driver to hit that point again. That last paragraph was my second hit, and now, the tremendous whack of which Winnie spoke….

We are all responsible for the sorry state of the world, equally…. Those of us who are not actively engaged in actions which are destructive, are guilty of not speaking up often enough to get the attention of those who are, nor are we engaged in doing anything which will stop their deliberate depredations. They are guilty of being assholes, yes…. but we are all guilty of complicity in that, and can claim no less responsibility for when we fall down the hole we’ve been digging for ourselves…. And, that is the TRUTH….

“I’m amoral, and it’s been bothering my conscience.” — Smart Bee

“To escape criticism — do nothing, say nothing, be nothing.” — Elbert Hubbard (1856-1915)

“You, therefore, have no excuse, you who pass judgment on someone else, for at whatever point you judge the other, you are condemning yourself, because you who pass judgment do the same things.” — Romans 2:1
(I’ve always maintained there is a lot of good advice in the Bible, as long as one doesn’t go all fanatic about its origin…. this is a perfect example of that contention….)
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Lordy, lordy, what a long, strange trip it’s been!….. I shall now test the proof of the pudding….. Hmm… this Pearl is a bit hard to classify, and I don’t think I’m up to judging it for overall quality at this point…. So…

Tiny Truth, Just in Time

I’ll leave history to say if it’s a crime,
as it will always do….
Who may challenge the prerogative of Time?….
Nobody, that’s who….

~~ gigoid

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

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

gigoid

Some lessons are more painful than others….

Posted on February 21, 2013 by gigoid

Ffolkes,
As much as I enjoy these morning interludes with the blogging world, there is still a certain degree of fear that goes along with publishing one’s own writing for others to read. One is, after all, exposing the inner self to the world, which, historically, has a habit of treating inner selves rather shabbily, or even cruelly, especially when they are shown for the first time, and often thereafter. It’s perhaps the biggest risk we take by deciding to share our thoughts with the world at large, a risk that is very real, and anyone with less than military grade armor protecting their ego is in serious jeopardy….

My own fear is no match for my ego, though, never has been, so it’s never been an issue for me…. I couldn’t wait to start blogging, as I’ve had stuff to say about life and society for many years, with no outlet for my outrage, or my angst, or my decidedly odd sense of humor. Once I was retired, and discovered that I had all the time I wanted to write, I jumped in without any discernible hesitation, taking to it like a duck takes to water….. but, happily, without the water all over my butt….. 🙂

Then, of course, Murphy came to live with me, as he found his perfect target in my attempted routines, my attempted regular posts, my attempted sleep, and all the other parts of life that he found he could so easily distort and pervert, such that I never know where the next conundrum will surface. I seem to be a fertile field for his machinations, and ever since, oh, a week or so into this time period, since I began blogging, he has made it his life’s work to find a new way to fuck with me, EVERY SINGLE FUCKING DAY!!! If it weren’t such a pain in the ass, I might feel special (cue Gilda Radner’s Church Lady voice for that last word….).

I didn’t mind so much, until the wearisome events surrounding living in poverty began to mount up into a mass that even my well-buried depression couldn’t keep hidden, and my PTSD became a daily issue, with the advent of unpredictable emotional storms, causing me to burst into tears at the slightest stress, or the thought of any stressful concept…… Concepts of a stressful nature….. yeah….

Such as when I found out yesterday that my older brother has been diagnosed with lymphatic cancer, and has decided not to take the treatments that might extend his life, to save his family from financial ruin…. It’s a decision that isn’t surprising; our father made the same one.

But, the butthead might have informed his brother(s) of it, so he(they) didn’t have to find out when he called to wish a happy birthday….. (Actually, I don’t know if he told my “little” brother…. if he did, and he didn’t call me, either of them, I’m afraid we are going to have to exchange a few words…. They may need to be reminded of who they are dealing with, and the proper protocols needed to keep from getting their sorry asses kicked…. I may be old, and getting feeble, but, I am still their brother, and I can still be dangerous when aroused….)

As you might guess, this little revelation has thrown me for a bit of a loop, and I don’t really even know how I feel, other than tearfully sad, fearfully mad, and a hundred other powerful emotions I can’t even name. So tearful, a break is needed, to get rid of some annoying fluid build-up that is common when I cry….. I’ll be back…. Okay, well, that didn’t work out so well….

I’m going to have to resort to more emergency procedures today, in order to get this Pearl done. I don’t know why, exactly, but it seems important to do so today. So, in sections one and three, where there would normally be a rant or two, I’m going old school, because that’s all I can do for now. I’ll do my best to make them potent pearls, even though they won’t be as floridly original, or as clear, I’m sure. At this point, enough emotion is swirling around inside me that a poem may just break out in section two, but, if not, I’ll find something sufficiently compelling in a more classical selection, if I can hold it together that long…..

I’m going to go for a dive now, and see if I can drown a bit of this sorrow in knowledge…. I have hopes, because aphorisms have always been a source of comfort to me in times of need…. So, I’ll stop torturing y’all now, and get on with it…. Shall we Pearl?….

“When you get older you have to be careful about always saying, “Things aren’t as good as they used to be.” But it’s hard not to.” — Andy Rooney
(I don’t much like Andy Rooney, but even a blind dog can find a bone some days….)

— Bother! said Pooh, on his deathbed.
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I was a bit nervous as to how this might turn out, given my state of mind, or lack thereof, but, Smart Bee seems to be in a compassionate mood, for a software program, anyway, so maybe it will all be okay….. Here are five pearls, each with their own message for the world to consider….. I particularly like the first one, and the last, and they DO help the pearl make its point…. That point’s a bit subtle, even for me, but, it’s there, if you wish to look for it, and it’s not bad….

“A time to be born; a time to die.” — Ecclesiastes 3:2

“Allow your children to face the consequences of their actions.” — Brown

“If you ever feel like you’re on the verge of a nervous breakdown, just follow these simple rules: First, calm down; second, come over and wash my car; third, shine all my shoes. There, isn’t that better?” — Deep Thoughts, by Jack Handey

“If possible, try to find a way to come downstairs that doesn’t involve going bump, bump, bump, on the back of your head. -” — Pooh in Winnie the Pooh A.A. Milne, English author (1882-1956)

See? As I’ve been known to say previously, it’s all in the wrist….
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What I said above about Smart Bee’s apparent empathy today seems to be accurate…. When considering poetry to fill this space today, after determining there is no poem of my own ready to come out, it showed me an excerpt from a Yeats poem, which prompted me to go find these two gems, both of which fit my mood today, as well as the apparent theme, obviously chosen by Reality…. Enjoy!…

A Friend’s Illness

SICKNESS brought me this
Thought, in that scale of his:
Why should I be dismayed
Though flame had burned the whole
World, as it were a coal,
Now I have seen it weighed
Against a soul?

William Butler Yeats

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A Dream Of Death

I DREAMED that one had died in a strange place
Near no accustomed hand,
And they had nailed the boards above her face,
The peasants of that land,
Wondering to lay her in that solitude,
And raised above her mound
A cross they had made out of two bits of wood,
And planted cypress round;
And left her to the indifferent stars above
Until I carved these words:
{She was more beautiful than thy first love,}
{But now lies under boards.}

William Butler Yeats
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Here is a seven star pearl for your perusal, as a finish to today’s effortful outpouring of confusion…. Smart Bee was again very cooperative, giving up this group in less than forty clicks, an astounding rate of success, especially given how it has performed already today. One could get the impression that it was AI software, and was reacting with compassion to my pained mental static….. Lest that be untrue, or, in case it is, I’ll not suggest otherwise…

Meantime, here are seven pearls, that just fall together into an attractive shape, no matter which way you jumble them up…. enjoy! Should it be necessary, there are cleaning solutions and tools in the cabinet by the pantry, including items to clean your clothing, in the event of spills or splashes…. We’re big on safety here, but, Life can be dangerous, especially when dealing with ideas…. unpredictable little buggers…. Why, I’ve seen them jump right out of a frying pan, into a fire…. imagine that!….

“What UNIVERSE is this, please??” — Zippy the Pinhead

“Two wrongs are only the beginning.” — Kohn’s Corollary to Murphy’s Law

“To get really high is to forget yourself. And to forget yourself is to see everything else. And to see everything else is to become an understanding molecule in evolution, a conscious tool of the universe. And I think every human being should be a conscious tool of the universe. That’s why I think it’s important to get high. I’m not talking about unconscious or zonked out. I’m talking about being fully conscious.” — Jerry Garcia

One ship drives east and the other drives west
With the selfsame winds that blow.
‘Tis the set of the sails and not the gales
Which tells us the way to go.

— Ella Wheeler Wilcox, Winds of Fate

“The only use of a knowledge of the past is to equip us for the present. The present contains all that there is. It is holy ground; for it is the past, and it is the future.” — Alfred North Whitehead

“Those who will not reason, perish in the act. Those who will not act, perish for that reason.” — W. H. Auden, _Shorts_

Lastly, a perfect find for today…. The counter-curse to the one I received long ago, when the ancient Chinese gentleman said to me, “May you have an interesting life.”….. Now all I have to do is find a competent, ~~relatively cheap,~~ er, inexpensive necromancer to say it to me….

“May you live in uninteresting times.” — Smart Bee
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I can’t speak to how today’s effort has been for y’all, but, it has helped me a lot, to regain enough composure to get the rest of the way through the day. The process of creating a Pearl has always been therapeutic, (a big part of why I started in the first place….), and today has served to solidify that characteristic for me…. My only remaining hope is that I haven’t bored anyone to their own tears, or offended anyone enough to lose them in the process, but, that’s always a gamble in this universe, so….

In looking back over this, I have to say, it came out pretty well, all things considered…. Now comes the tough part…. Reality awaits me, outside the door, and I can’t ignore its call this time…. Ah well, such is life…. it goes on, with or without our approval or cooperation, so I may as well try to enjoy the ride while it lasts, for, as the Scots say, I’ll be a long time dead…. Y’all take care out there, and May the Metaphorse be with you…..

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

gigoid

Entirely costumed in pale green aspic….

Posted on November 27, 2012 by gigoid

Ffolkes,
It’s been a long time since I’ve been down like this physically; I guess I’ve been lucky without being aware of it. I suppose that’s normal, to take for granted our times of peace, because they are so easy and pleasant that we tend to just coast along, never realizing how different it can be when things aren’t as well aligned, or working better. It’s an easy state of mind to fall into, until one doesn’t feel well, and realizes how much it is missed….

My physical conditions are of the type that don’t put me in agony, per se, but are just always there, preventing me from feeling very good, and sort of dragging me down into a morass of fatigue and discomfort. It’s not life-threatening, at least not yet, and it’s not particularly bad, when considered in the light of things like cancer, or lupis, or such conditions. It’s just not very comfortable, and makes me want to hole up in my cave and growl at anyone who comes to the door. Fortunately, nobody does….

Writing is hard when this happens…. It does keep me at home, pretty much, but it makes it hard to sit for long at the computer, so anything I write tends to peter out before I can get far into it. Around here, writing is always an adventure anyway, so that isn’t so much of a handicap, since I can’t sit long anyway, because of the need to move my back almost constantly to find a comfortable position. It just tends to make it hard to rant for any length of time, and as is known, I love to rant. It’s what keeps me so calm the rest of the time, and able to look at things dispassionately; I take all that out in what I write about priests, preachers, politicians, and human stupidity, my four horsemen of the apocalypse……

Today, though, we’ll be presenting part III of Repercussions, which is the hardest piece for me; it was hard to write, and it is very hard to read it again, as it deals with perhaps the most destructive moments of my entire life. The first section pearl will be old school, in that I won’t be writing as much as pointing…. and a poem, of course, will ease our spirits in section two, as is now the rule….. We should get on with it, eh?…..

“Writing is an adventure. To begin with, it is a toy and an amusement. Then it becomes a mistress, then it becomes a master, then it becomes a tyrant. The last phase is that just as you are about to be reconciled to your servitude, you kill the monster and fling him to the public.” — Winston Churchill

Well, now, if that isn’t an apt description of what goes on around here pretty much every day now, I don’t know what is, or would be…. Actually, in thinking about it, the process Winnie outlines happens in a flash of time for some, and each step is individual to the author doing the writing…. Hell, you know, I don’t think he knows any more than I do in this instance, and, since I’ve always passed on the experience of having a mistress, have never acknowledged a master, and never lived under a tyrant (Well, other than my ex-wife…. Sorry, too easy, just kidding…..) , it rather breaks down for me, anyway. It’s really the last part I like, about killing the damn thing and flinging it to the public…. that feels quite right….. So, here, allow me to fling you along the path to the end of today’s adventure through my head… Shall we Pearl?…..
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For humans, the truth is a slippery concept to hold on to; it seems to change form on us if we do not clutch it tightly enough. Everyone feels that what they believe is the basic truth, and what others may hold to be true do not count in their world. Yet actual truth has nothing to do with our belief; the universe itself defines what is truth, and we can only change its labels to suit our own prejudices. I can, and no doubt have, supplied any number of examples of how humans can twist the truth to suit their own purposes, but today, I give you instead some of the thoughts others have had on the subject (with one random quote thrown in to challenge the Gentle Reader, one that speaks to part of the reason why truth is so slippery for us…. you have to figure out which one it is yourself…..)…. all of which combined gives a good idea of my own take on the matter…..

“It is hard to believe that a man is telling the truth when you know that you would lie if you were in his place.” — H. L. Mencken

“I have never been hurt by anything I didn’t say.” — Calvin Coolidge

“Humanity has been searching for an all knowing intelligence for as long as there has been a question it could not answer. Until it learns to use its own mind it will continue to chase it’s tail.” — R. Thomas

“By means of shrewd lies, unremittingly repeated, it is possible to make people believe that heaven is hell — and hell heaven. The greater the lie, the more readily it will be believed.” — Adolph Hitler, Mein Kampf

“A half-truth is usually less than half of that.” — Smart Bee

“Everyone, I think, remembers Voltaire’s famous line about freedom of speech. The version of it that you are familiar with is actually based on a faulty translation. What Voltaire actually said was this: “I do not agree with what you say, sir, though I will defend to the death your right to say it. But for now … shut up!” — Steve Allen

It would have been nice to have one more, but, that last one says it pretty well….. I hope you found your way to the point of the exercise, as it, too, says it pretty well…. and, in many fewer words than I COULD use, to be sure…. 🙂
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Fragment

I WALK’D along a stream, for pureness rare,
Brighter than sun-shine; for it did acquaint
The dullest sight with all the glorious prey
That in the pebble-paved channel lay.

No molten crystal, but a richer mine,
Even Nature’s rarest alchymy ran there,–
Diamonds resolv’d, and substance more divine,
Through whose bright-gliding current might appear
A thousand naked nymphs, whose ivory shine,
Enamelling the banks, made them more dear
Than ever was that glorious palace’ gate
Where the day-shining Sun in triumph sate.

Upon this brim the eglantine and rose,
The tamarisk, olive, and the almond tree,
As kind companions, in one union grows,
Folding their twining arms, as oft we see
Turtle-taught lovers either other close,
Lending to dulness feeling sympathy;
And as a costly valance o’er a bed,
So did their garland-tops the brook o’erspread.

Their leaves, that differ’d both in shape and show,
Though all were green, yet difference such in green,
Like to the checker’d bent of Iris’ bow,
Prided the running main, as it had been–

Christopher Marlowe
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Repercussions, Part III

On a day in mid-August of 1984, I was working once again at Napa State Hospital (NSH) as a Psychiatric Technician. Since the adolescent program where I previously worked had closed, I was assigned to a unit designated T8, in the T-building, a two-story edifice which encompassed enough space for 10 units housing up to 45 individuals each, an industrial kitchen with two separate dining rooms, serving meals in both rooms in rotation, for eight units, and several program offices for the Program managers and support staff.

The population was all male, in a program whose purpose was to treat a variety of different diagnoses. The residents of the program, who were diagnosed with Schizophrenia, Bi-Polar Disorders, Personality Disorders, along with a wide variety of other psychiatric conditions, were housed together on eight units with dormitories where they slept at night. On this particular late summer’s day, the men on T8 were relatively quiet, as everyone tried to cope with the stifling heat common to the area at this time of the year. The buildings at NSH were built in the 1950’s, all of concrete, and could be very uncomfortable.
A couple of hours into the shift, we escorted our charges out the door, downstairs to the hallway leading to the dining room for dinner. It is always the most dangerous part of the shift; the residents are hungry, and the walk to the dining room necessarily leaves the staff spread apart in order to keep an eye on everyone. The team I worked with was a good one, and with all of us staying alert, we got to the dining room and supervised the clients, who were conversant with the routine, until all were seated and eating, except a couple of stragglers still in line.

The phone on the wall rang, and one of the kitchen employees picked up to answer. She listened a moment, then turned to quickly address us nursing staff, saying in a strained voice, “T-6 needs help, stat!” “Stat” is the medical code word for an emergency situation, requiring staff to respond as fast as possible to lend assistance. Two of us, myself and Hoi-sing Lee, another PT, immediately broke into a run, out of the door to the left down the hallway to the stairway door leading up to T-6. We hit the open hall door at a full run and bounded up the stairs, slowing as we came to the doorway to scan the situation before entering into the main day hall of the unit.

To the left was the medication room door, bottom half closed, top open to the room. A female staff member in the open upper half pointed across the day hall at a resident there, saying only, “that’s him” In the middle of the room, near the chairs grouped in front of the TV, lay another of the residents, curled into a ball and shivering violently. A female staff member could be seen in the nursing office, still calling for help. No one was in the TV area to the left of the door; most of the clients were on the way to the dining room, as were most of the staff, so my teammate, Lee, and I were the first responders at the scene. I looked straight ahead from the door as I moved into the room, and saw a sight I will see in dreams for the rest of my days, burned indelibly on my memory in an instant that lasted forever.

I saw the body of a male staff member, obviously unconscious; he lay on his back straight in front of me about 10 feet away. I recognized him as the T-6 shift lead, a friend named Al, who had oriented me to the program when I first came on board. I observed that he was breathing, but his complexion had a very bad looking chalky grey cast to it, eyes closed, and obviously insensate. Another 15 feet beyond where he lay paced the apparent perpetrator, who immediately began yelling at me in a threatening voice, shouting, ” Yeah I did that, come and get me!.” He was about 6’1″, approximately 190 lbs., appeared to be in good shape, and very obviously was in an agitated psychotic state, just coming down after an explosion of rage, and still pumped up to fight.

As I approached him, I had to step over the body of my friend, and very carefully moved toward the agitated individual, on full alert and fully adrenalized. Time had slowed to a crawl, and I could hear the harsh breathing from the aggressor as he paced in a tight circle, mumbling to himself between yells in my direction. Hoi-sing, an experienced PT, and like me, a veteran of many such situations, silently crossed behind me to the left, quickly circling around to his opposite side, so we could approach from both directions. As I stepped up to him, I casually took his left arm, just as Lee did the same on the other side. Both of us had been trained to use a special hold which allows control of the arm without stressing it by putting it in unnatural positions, allowing you to use your weight to control the arm, quickly tiring the subject. He began to try rip his arms from our grasp, yelling obscenities at us, and flailing about.

Hoi-sing was experienced, but only weighed about 110 lbs. dripping wet, and I could tell he wasn’t going to be able to hold the right arm much longer, and I would then be the unhappy recipient of an attempted blow to the head. I had to think fast, so I dropped my weight while holding his arm, then lifted him upward until his weight went onto his toes, just enough that I was able to control the direction of our movement. I quickly directed all three of us right into the chairs a few feet away, knowing that I could direct him hard enough to cause his legs to run into the arm of the heavy chair, causing him to imbalance and fall over to the floor, with me still on top grimly keeping a death-grip on his arm. This unfortunately left Lee underneath him, but as I knew he would, he wriggled free, still holding the right arm, and we were then able to use our combined weight to hold him securely on the floor until more help arrived.

Very soon after we got control of the still wildly struggling individual, more people arrived, and helped us to restrain him, then per procedure, move him to a secure room, where he could be restrained with leather straps on a bed until he regained control, as the psychotic rage passed. Once he was secure, Lee and I returned to the day hall where Al still lay, being examined by the on-duty physician, surrounded by silent and worried looking staff. A paramedic team arrived with a gurney stretcher, Al was lifted onto it gently, and rushed to the emergency room at the nearest hospital a few miles away. The doctor was only able to stand there shaking his head sadly, with a grave expression, saying over and over, “it’s bad, it’s bad”. After writing up the incident reports, Lee and I finished our shift on our unit, quietly raging inside but still outwardly under control.

After our shift ended, we went to the hospital to see if Al had been stabilized and/or had regained consciousness; before we left work, we had heard only periodic updates that told us he was still in surgery. When we arrived, we were told he was in a coma, in critical condition, and being monitored for fluid pressure on the brain. His prognosis was serious and guarded, meaning the doctors didn’t know whether he would recover or not, only time would tell.

Four days later, Al died without ever waking up. The doctors explained that he had apparently been struck full in the face, a massive blow to the nose. The doctors explained he had received in essence two blows, one to the face and nose, and one to the back of the head when he fell to the floor. In reality, he never stood much chance of a full recovery; even if he had lived, the likelihood of a severe loss of brain function would almost certainly have made him a full-time bed patient, requiring full nursing care to survive. He would never have been able to speak, or walk, or hold his family again. He was survived by his wife and four children.

At the funeral a day after his death all of us who had worked with Al stood by his casket at the memorial service as we and his family bid him a tearful farewell. We could but stare in shock, and wonder at the terrible waste of a good man’s life, silent as the sadness filled us.

And I, I was filled with a such a sense of rage and sorrow, such waves of pain and anguish that I could barely speak for the clenching of my jaw. For the first time in my life and career, I had been unable to protect someone I had cared for, and I was filled with an immensely deep sense of regret for having arrived on the scene too late to save my friend…..My equilibrium was completely shattered, and I could not find my center, nor even momentary peace, despite recognizing that we had done as much as we could, and held no personal responsibility for his death. That knowledge gave me no comfort, and I entered the realm of the “walking dead”, gripped by madness and and soul-deep pain….
To be continued…..
__________________________________

Whew…. I managed to get down here to finish this off without stopping to read the third section, which for now is a good thing. I’ll have to do so at least once more, to do the final edit and spell check by eye that I always do, so I don’t need the angst right now….. Once again, I don’t know how this one came out, as I don’t have the wherewithal just now to decide…. It looks okay, and it’s done, so…. it flies…. So be it….. Y’all take care out there, and May the Metaphorse be with you…..

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

gigoid

Kowabunga!

Riding forth with the myrmidons….

Posted on June 30, 2012 by gigoid

Ffolkes,
Wow…. I didn’t realize one could actually fall asleep at the keyboard. It was just like falling asleep at the wheel of a car, but instead of almost crashing, what I found on the screen was zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz You get the picture, I’m sure….. I could go back and delete all of it, but who knows? It may just be a new style of prose writing, called minimalist, or some such…. I’ve seen worse….

“Will this never-ending series of PLEASURABLE EVENTS never cease?” — Zippy the Pinhead

Yes, life is just one big party here at Ned’s house. I managed to stay up until 9 PM last night, which means I’m up today at 5 AM, almost awake. It’s a toss-up as to whether I keep typing or go back to bed….. and I can hear my pillow softly calling my name…. Okay, I’ll be back in a while….

I’m back… it is now almost three hours later. I guess I got up too early the first try. And now that I have no doubt bored you all to tears with my morning play by play, I think we should Pearl… shall we?…..

Be on your guard against a silent dog and still water. — Latin proverb (Good advice…)
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The Men That Fought At Minden

A Song of Instruction

The men that fought at Minden, they was rookies in their time —
So was them that fought at Waterloo!
All the ‘ole command, yuss, from Minden to Maiwand,
They was once dam’ sweeps like you!

Then do not be discouraged, ‘Eaven is your ‘elper,
We’ll learn you not to forget;
An’ you mustn’t swear an’ curse, or you’ll only catch it worse,
For we’ll make you soldiers yet!

The men that fought at Minden, they ‘ad stocks beneath their chins,
Six inch ‘igh an’ more;
But fatigue it was their pride, and they ~would~ not be denied
To clean the cook-‘ouse floor.

The men that fought at Minden, they had anarchistic bombs
Served to ’em by name of ‘and-grenades;
But they got it in the eye (same as you will by-an’-by)
When they clubbed their field-parades.

The men that fought at Minden, they ‘ad buttons up an’ down,
Two-an’-twenty dozen of ’em told;
But they didn’t grouse an’ shirk at an hour’s extry work,
They kept ’em bright as gold.

The men that fought at Minden, they was armed with musketoons,
Also, they was drilled by ‘alberdiers;
I don’t know what they were, but the sergeants took good care
They washed be’ind their ears.

The men that fought at Minden, they ‘ad ever cash in ‘and
Which they did not bank nor save,
But spent it gay an’ free on their betters — such as me —
For the good advice I gave.

The men that fought at Minden, they was civil — yuss, they was —
Never didn’t talk o’ rights an’ wrongs,
But they got it with the toe (same as you will get it — so!) —
For interrupting songs.

The men that fought at Minden, they was several other things
Which I don’t remember clear;
But ~that’s~ the reason why, now the six-year men are dry,
The rooks will stand the beer!

Then do not be discouraged, ‘Eaven is your ‘elper,
We’ll learn you not to forget;
An’ you mustn’t swear an’ curse, or you’ll only catch it worse,
For we’ll make you soldiers yet!

Soldiers yet, if you’ve got it in you —
All for the sake of the Core;
Soldiers yet, if we ‘ave to skin you —
Run an’ get the beer, Johnny Raw — Johnny Raw!
Ho! run an’ get the beer, Johnny Raw!

Rudyard Kipling

I can imagine a platoon of English army soldiers, sitting in a dark, smoke-filled, crowded tavern, somewhere in India, singing this song at the top of their lungs, as they slosh more ale down their throats from the tankards they wave about in time to the song. Gig Young, or Errol Flynn plays the part of the officer of the troop, with all those wonderful British character actors playing the soldiers. They all die in the end, of course…. that’s the common lot for British soldiers in India at that time…. Any who, I like the poem a lot, it made me think of the word “rollicking” and is worth reading just for that…. 🙂
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“I am ready to meet my Maker. Whether my Maker is prepared for the great ordeal of meeting me is another matter.” — Sir Winston Churchill

“…for DEATH awaits you all, with nasty sharp pointy teeth!” — Monty Python and the Holy Grail

Death. The great equalizer. Nobody gets away from it. As a matter of fact, it has been proven, beyond a shadow of doubt, that everyone who breathes air, dies. So, air must not be good for us, right? That’s logic….. Of course it’s logical. It is also, however, not true, and serves as an example of the fact that logic doesn’t always lead to the correct answer to any particular question….. sometimes you gotta just go by what is real…..

I like the first quote, by Winnie…. should the Christian viewpoint turn out to have been true, I would prefer to meet my maker with this same attitude. To my way of thinking, if it (Christianity) IS true, then God has a lot to answer for. I’m sorry, but I just can’t believe in any deity who would allow his creation to show such perversions as this species has shown. Whenever I bring this point up to a priest, or theologian of any sort, all I get is “God works in mysterious ways….”

Yeah? Is that right? You say there is some hidden purpose to those actions we don’t understand? Well, fuck God then, because he’s acting like an asshole. I don’t care a whit if there is some hidden purpose; there is NO ACCEPTABLE REASON to suppose that a merciful God would condone child molesters, or rapists, or torture, (even during war). I don’t believe it; it is neither logical, nor rational….

Claiming that God is beyond our understanding, and therefore we cannot understand his reasons for allowing such actions, is pure bullshit. If he is that far above us, why are his morals so perverted? I don’t care what you say, I won’t accept the rape of a child as being justifiable from ANY standpoint. None. And if God does have some justification, well, I ain’t buying it. No matter what it is, it isn’t right….. And going along with it, believing the lie, is just another cowardly way of avoiding responsibility…..

Men are responsible for these actions, not God. Men kill, and rape, and pillage, and manipulate and coerce their fellows into performing acts of heinous nature. At times in history, this killing has taken place in the name of God, as the fanatical zealots so common to Christianity throughout its bloody history carried their own particular brand of oppression to new lands, forcing the natives to swallow their version of reality, regardless of how they felt about it.

This zealotry continues today, with the current Republican candidate all set to bring the US right back into the Stone Age, should he. through some cruel quirk of fate, be elected as POTUS. If that happens, I’m pretty sure Armageddon will be close behind, as I don’t think the rest of the world is going to sit still for him to cram his own faith down their throats.

Hell, right here at home, should he be elected, I’d be surprised if there isn’t a revolutionary upheaval within a few months of the election. I know I would certainly be considering assassination as a viable political tool…. It is now legal for us to use torture as a resource, why should we balk at assassination?

Ah me…. I guess I got too much sleep. It seems to have awakened my old hippie instincts; I haven’t talked revolution in oh, six or eight months now…. I suppose I’ll just have to wait until November, to see which way to jump…. let’s hope for the best, but prepare for the worst. That’s always the best policy….. for survival, anyway….and that may become our primary goal, if things keep on keepin’ on…..
___________________________________

How admirable,
he who thinks not,
Life is fleeting,
When he sees the lightning!
— Basho

Future Shocked:

Weeping, I wake;
waking, I weep, I weep.
I weep for the ages to be lost,
for children never born.

Time comes calling, strident and spare,
nudging us toward the future with bony hands.
No pausing, no waiting, always away,
Frantic hearts unseen, unheard.

Spirits are dark, afraid.
And the Beast hunts, hungry and cruel,
seeking out the weak, and the foolish.

We all weep now…..

gigoid
___________________________________

Well, that turned a little dark on me, didn’t it? I guess that is all one can expect when speaking of Death; things often turn a little dark in his/her presence….. But, a little dark only serves to contrast with the light, making us more aware of both…. Y’all take care out there, and May the Metaphorse be with you…..

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

gigoid

Kowabunga!

Real fun begins in the burrow….

Posted on April 27, 2012 by gigoid

Ffolkes,
It may, or may not, come as a surprise to you, but the material that appears here every day is as fresh and new to me as it is to you. All of what I write in this blog is made up every morning when I sit down to begin. I have no outlines, no lists of subject matter, no pre-written essays, or articles, or rants. I do save a few pearls here and there, in case the dB program, Smart Bee, is being recalcitrant, but I haven’t had to use the stash in six months or more.

Everything else is my reaction to the pearls that I pick, written moments after pasting the pearl into the word processor I’m using. Most of the ones I pick to write about each day are also fresh, as well, usually picked out that very morning. Sometimes a pearl will be in place, waiting, having been found the day, or a couple of days, before, but 9 times out of 10, I will move the waiting pearl to another day down the road, and use one I just found. It just seems to work out best this way, so that is how it is done…. It’s not logical, or even particularly well-designed and arranged. But, it works for me, and that, after all, is what it is all about…..

So be it…. I’m not sure why I said all that, but what the hell…. let’s just get down to it right away…. shall we Pearl?….
___________________________________

Angels and ministers of grace, defend us!
Be thou a spirit of health or goblin damn’d,
Bring with thee airs from heaven or blasts from hell,
Be thy intents wicked or charitable,
Thou comest in such a questionable shape
That I will speak to thee: I ‘ll call thee Hamlet,
King, father, royal Dane: O, answer me!
Let me not burst in ignorance, but tell
Why thy canonized bones, hearsed in death,
Have burst their cerements; why the sepulchre,
Wherein we saw thee quietly inurn’d,
Hath oped his ponderous and marble jaws
To cast thee up again. What may this mean,
That thou, dead corse, again in complete steel
Revisit’st thus the glimpses of the moon,
Making night hideous,
So horridly to shake our disposition
With thoughts beyond the reaches of our souls?
— William Shakespeare (1564-1616), Hamlet — Act i, Sc. 4

Time for a short rant…. I know the above is probably considered to be one of the finest examples of literature ever written. This soliloquy from Hamlet has been dissected and discussed to death many times over, in classrooms, in theaters, at dinner parties, and is used often as quotations to illustrate some point or another…. and it is SUCH a piece of CRAP!

I cannot believe that anyone still falls for this! What the fuck is he talking about? What has he said here, beyond some personal complaints about somebody that he has been rude to his entire life? Even when one filters out the middle English and puts it into more modern terminology, it doesn’t make any sense. It is just a litany of complaints that one can hear from one’s teenage son or daughter any time of day or night…..

I watched the movie, Star Trek IV, The Voyage Home, yesterday… it’s good entertainment, and has a lot of what made the original ST shows so watchable, i.e., interactions among the crew, specifically Spock, McCoy, and Kirk. At one point, when Spock’s memory is under question, McCoy delivers the first two lines above, whereupon Spock immediately supplies the play, act, and scene number from memory…. But I found it interesting that McCoy is one of the first to use the quote as a question of someone’s mental acuity…. it certainly is one of the few, if any, times that I’ve seen it used thus…. At least, used in this context, it at least admits the possibility that the speaker is less than completely sane, which to me seems quite apparent.

If I heard anyone spouting off like this, I would certainly be calling 911 to have someone come to take them away before they got violent…. But, humanity likes its heroes, even when it doesn’t even know why they are such….. so we’ll have to be subjected to Will’s overblown crap as long as people continue to put his work on a pedestal… when where it should be kept is in a locked vault….

“Hamlet is the tragedy of tackling a family problem too soon after college.” — Tom Masson
___________________________________

“Some foolish men declare that a Creator made the world. The doctrine that the world was created is ill-advised, and should be rejected. If God created the world, where was He before creation? How could God have made the world without any raw material? If you say He made this first, and then the world, you are faced with an endless regression … Know that the world is uncreated, as time itself is, without beginning and end.” — The Mahapurana, Jinasena

There are times when the human race baffles me…. Many moons ago (a clever writer’s trick to indicate a VERY long time…), when we were all sitting around a campfire, say out in front of a nice cave we’d appropriated from some poor idiot killed in lieu of a mortgage payment, somebody came up with the concept of a Creator.

Now, the first question that comes to my mind is, “Why?” (I know, I know, that is a question we are not supposed to ask…. again, I will repeat, “Why?”….) What was it that prompted those folks to want to create some god-like figure to explain all the stuff we didn’t know at the time?

Were they sitting around blaming each other for the rain and thunder? Was there something about the way that wolf pack was stalking the same prey as we were hunting that indicated some sort of conspiracy? What? I don’t seem to be able to find out what impulse it was that caused them to make up such a specious and unlikely explanation for the way the world exists…. The one that they came up with does not fit the facts of the matter; it only fits the wishes of those who believe it. Even the explanation that pantheists like Hindi came up with are wishful thinking; it makes as little sense to assume that there are a thousand gods as it does to assume just one……

A Lie is still a Lie, even if you believe it. — Smart Bee

“Over 5,000 years ago, Moses said to the children of Israel, “Pick up your shovels, mount your asses and load your camels, and I will lead you to the promised land.”
Not too long ago, Roosevelt said, “Lay down your shovels, sit on your asses, light a Camel, this is the promised land.”
Now Nixon is stealing your shovels, kicking your asses, raising the price of Camels, and mortgaging the promised land.” — Smart Bee

This is the result, you see, of having this sort of nonsense to contend with. The mere existence of this joke indicates the depths of contradiction that are inherent in any such creation theory. The presence in society of a large group of people who all believe that they may do whatever they please, and their acts will be either sanctioned by the deity, or forgiven by Him, thus releasing them from all responsibility for whatever it is they choose to do, is a large factor in how close we are to extinction as a species. The self-indulgence and lack of any personal responsibility allowed by these religions can be seen as a major contributor to both the evil that men perpetrate on each other, as well as the degradations that we have committed on our environment.

And the saddest part of all of this is the simple fact that nobody cares. Millions and millions, even billions, of people on this planet believe that their religion is the gospel truth, and all the lies they are told, and all the lies they tell, are sanctioned by Heaven, and no matter what they do on Earth, they will be rewarded in Heaven…. They believe this with all their being, and nothing will change their minds, because they will not entertain any other ideas, having been programmed to reject anything that doesn’t fit with what they’ve been told to believe.

“Belief gets in the way of learning.” — Robert Heinlein, Time Enough for Love

Moreover, they are convinced that they have made the choice to believe all this; they cannot even see how they have been given no choice in the matter, having been indoctrinated from an early age, before they had the intellectual or mindful defenses against any such nonsense. Churches learned long ago to attack the minds of children first, for they cannot help but believe what their parents tell them…. thus, the vicious cycle of ignorance is passed on from generation to generation, all without ever being examined for truth…. a concept foreign to the very nature of the institution…..

“I honestly believe that the doctrine of hell was born in the glittering eyes of snakes that run in frightful coils watching for their prey. I believe it was born with the yelping, howling, growling and snarling of wild beasts… I despise it, I defy it, and I hate it.” — Robert G. Ingersoll

“Advise is seldom welcome, and those who need it the most, like it the least.” — Lord Chesterfield

“The truth is incontrovertible. Malice may attack it. Ignorance may deride it. But in the end, there it is.” — Winston Churchill
___________________________________

A mighty creature is the germ,
Though smaller than the pachyderm.
His customary dwelling place
Is deep within the human race.
His childish pride he often pleases
By giving people strange diseases.
Do you, my poppet, feel infirm?
You probably contain a germ.
— Odgen Nash (1902-1971)

As is always the case with the work of Ogden Nash, there is very little that can be added without becoming superfluous. He trims away any unnecessary words and ideas, and drives straight into the truth, adorned perfectly by whimsy. I can’t think of another poet who has such a consistent talent to make me smile; he never fails to amuse and uplift, and one always comes away happier, if not always wiser. His simple rhymes and snippets of humorous verse, in my mind, makes him one of the “best of the best” in that field…..

“Careful, Mister. Old Zeek is liable to fire that sucker up!” — Smart Bee
___________________________________

Roosevelt’s Second Bill of Rights….. http://www.fdrheritage.org/bill_of_rights.htm

One of the bloggers whose work I enjoy, and whose work, and opinion I’ve come to respect, writes poetry and prose at his blog site, One Time Pad, located here: http://onetimepad.wordpress.com/ A while back, he referred me to an article discussing how our use of language affects how we look at the political forces at play in society. It was a very good article, thoughtful, insightful, and with some good, sound conclusions. But, I am not at this time going to discuss that article, as it could conceivably turn into a very long discussion. But, as part of the research the author performed, he looked at the above information, located at a site dedicated to the policies that are the legacy of Franklin D. Roosevelt, arguably the most popular President our country has ever seen.

Having not studied Roosevelt’s political philosophy outside what is part of every school’s history program, I cannot say whether I would agree with all of it. However, I did take the time to look over what is in the above, which is a proposal for new Amendments to the US Constitution, a Second Bill of Rights, which Roosevelt saw as a needed change, if society was to avoid in the future the same disastrously ill effects that he had just worked to counteract during the Great Depression in the 1930’s.

He saw a need to create more balance in society in how wealth and resources were allocated and shared on a society-wide basis. The amendments he proposed are all intended to foster and maintain that balance, and they all have to do with what he, and other liberals of the time, considered to be an expansion of basic human rights as outlined in the original Bill of Rights. In looking over what is here, I have to agree with the assessment he made; these are all changes that society will need to make, if we are to survive…. because they all assume that the real power in society CAN be returned to the people, instead of being concentrated and jealously protected by a select few who, by all indications, do not have the best interests of society at heart.

I firmly believe that the Occupy Movement, which is about to re-start its activist efforts to make the same litany of changes, would do well to adopt these proposed Amendments as the basis for their platform of purpose, and to work toward making them a part of American constitutional law. It would give them a legitimate focus, and will, if utilized well, stand a very good chance of succeeding in making a big difference…. and it sure couldn’t hurt to try….
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“A dog is the only thing on earth that loves you more than he loves himself.” — Josh Billings

In the past six months or so since my pal Noah died, I have avoided writing about him, other than one relatively short piece that I wrote to honor his life with memories of his character.

That post is still available to read, here:

http://therealowner.com/dogs/an-ode-to-noah/

I haven’t done so because I am a coward; it hurts a lot, still, and I have a hard time typing through the tears… just as I am now.

But, I wanted to share this with everyone, and say only this…. if you have not ever had the privilege of knowing a dog (note I do not say “own” or “possess” or “have”…. dogs are people, period, and such terms imply, and create, chauvinism that prevents you from ever understanding the true nature of yourself, much less the dog….), and of living with one, then you have not truly experienced what Love can be. Even with another person, Love has limits; for a dog, there are none.

So, any who…. before I am unable to do this at all, I will now post a photo, which I found on Facebook, I believe. It also might have come from the blogging site, Dog Leader Mysteries, which is dedicated to saving homeless and shelter dogs… located here: http://dogleadermysteries.com/ If this doesn’t touch your heart, nothing in this world can save you…. I’ve entitled it….

The Last Will and Testament of Noah Dog….

If you cannot read it because the text is too small, right click on it, click on “Open with”, and let the default photo viewer open it in a window where you can enlarge it sufficiently to read…. and thank you for taking the time…. Blessed Be….
___________________________________

Okay, my day is destroyed now… but in a good way……

…… The space you see here between the dots is a metaphor. It represents the four minutes I just took to get up and walk away until I could control myself. Whew! As I mentioned in the introductory paragraphs, I never know what I’m going to be writing about, and this may be about the clearest indication of the truth of that I can give you. The idea of including Noah’s Will in a Pearl has been circling around in my head for all the time since his passing, but today was the first time I have been able to follow through. In some ways I am glad, because it is now something I can cross off a list.

Alas, this issue is on more than one list, so, I’m sure I’m not done processing the feelings I have around Noah’s life and death; we were together for fully 17 years, and it’s only been six months since his demise. If not to you, it’s obvious to me I have some tears still to shed over that…. but, I’ve never been ashamed of tears, like most of the men I’ve known. Not that I let them rule me, but I believe it is human to feel the strong emotions that create the urge to give up our life’s blood (water) to express our emotional pain in a physical way. And I have nothing against being human….

Enough of my rumination…. I’m starting to annoy myself…. 🙂 Well, as much as I ever do, anyway….. and I’m sure you’re getting tired of all the dots between thoughts…. so I’ll bring this to a crashing halt, here. Y’all take care out there, and May the Metaphorse be with you….

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

gigoid

Kowabunga!

Send the teak button away for now….

Posted on April 22, 2012 by gigoid

Ffolkes,
When one is open to accept it, inspiration is never hard to find. A walk outside can provide ample sights, sounds, or other stimuli that will trip the creative urge into action; a beautiful rose, covered in morning dew, the web of a spider in the sunlight, the cry of a hawk on the hunt, any and all can give the artist the wherewithal to express his vision. Even without leaving the house, the same sort of stimuli are to be found; the odor of breakfast cooking, the cat asleep in a patch of sunlight, the smile of a loved one… all are grist for the artist’s mill, if he/she is open to perceiving them.

Conversely, when one’s creativity is blocked (and who knows why it happens… it just does….), no perception, no beauty, no grand music will pull the artist out of their misery. Continued exposure to such stimuli may help the condition over time, but, mostly, when blocked, there is nothing the artist can do but suffer….

Fortunately, I have chosen to use pearls to create my Pearls, and the process of searching them out will generally push right through any blocks I may have set up in my mind, at minimum allowing me to produce a Pearl, though it may not be on a par with others that were produced previously. Not being a judge of that (well, I do, but, my opinion on what I produce is, naturally, a bit prejudiced, so I tend to discount it…..) I cannot speak to the resultant quality of said Pearls, but at least they are not stuffed somewhere in my head, causing trouble with whatever is currently at issue…. thank goodness…..

With all that said, to what purpose may never be known, we shall now proceed to the morning dive, and get started on producing another in a long line of daily outbursts from my mind and imagination…. and the wide world of human wisdom. Shall we Pearl?…..

IMAGINATION, n. A warehouse of facts, with poet and liar in joint ownership. — Ambrose Bierce, “The Devil’s Dictionary”
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“In wartime, truth is so precious that she should always be attended by a bodyguard of lies.” — Winston Churchill

Winnie had a good point here, one that is fully supported by Sun Tzu’s Art of War, which I consider to be the last word on anything to do with war or conflict. Sun Tzu says, “All war is the art of deception.” He goes on to delineate the ways in which this principle is applied to various scenarios of conflict, thus demonstrating the flexibility of the principle. However, in Sun Tzu’s classic tome, he makes an assertion that is unfortunately ignored by modern leaders, and that is that the army, whose purpose is war, and the people, whose purpose is peace, are two separate entities, and require different methods of leadership if one is to achieve success.

In today’s world, politicians, religious leaders, and all those who seek to assume power over the people, all regard the process of obtaining that power to be war. In essence, the political figures of today’s society consider themselves at war with, the public, and thus justify to themselves all the lies that they tell to them to achieve their ends.

They become irritable and righteously indignant when confronted with their lies, and turn the criticism back on the critic, labeling them as “biased media, controlled by the left” (or right, depending on who is speaking), or as “unpatriotic”, or “blasphemous”…. all of which are more lies, used simply to distract the public from the true issue, which is their lies…. Did you ever notice that? When a politician is confronted, especially on camera, about a lie, they never directly answer the question, instead turning it into a personal attack, either on the questioner, or the media reporting it. No addressing of the lie ever takes place….

“It’s hard to decide if T.V. makes morons out of everyone, or if it mirrors Americans who really are morons to begin with.” — Martin Mull

This is not hidden knowledge… the above scenario between politicos and reporters takes place EVERY DAY, on TV, in newspapers, and on the Internet. Every day…. and the war on humanity, declared by its own leaders, continues to drag on…. If one were to read ALL of The Art of War, one would know that the worst thing a society can do is to engage in long, drawn out wars; such wars always end up destroying both combatants….. and that is what will happen here, if things don’t change…..

“Giving every man a vote has no more made men wise and free than Christianity has made them good.” — H.L. Mencken
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But words are things, and a small drop of ink,
Falling like dew upon a thought, produces
That which makes thousands, perhaps millions, think.
— Lord Byron (1788-1824) — Don Juan, Canto iii, Stanza 88

This is a perfect example of why I love poetry. Three short lines of simple words and phrases, and we have an expression of an idea so huge it encompasses all of mankind’s literature, history, and culture. It describes and celebrates, all at once, how the power of words can affect the entire world, all with the slightest of effort and resources. Moreover, its very brevity, and clarity, give proof of exactly what it claims; it is a perfect example of how powerful good poetry can be, and illustrates the very concept it discusses. Sheer genius, as far as I’m concerned….. and, in no need of further embellishment from this quarter….
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And on the 8th day, God said, “Ok, Murphy, you’re in charge!” — Smart Bee

Now we know what happened! This completely explains what has heretofore been misunderstood about history. This is the ONLY logical, or even illogical, explanation for what has taken place on this planet for the last 5000 years or so…. nothing else fits. I imagine one of two things happened back in the beginning days of society…. either the above line was left out of Genesis, or it got eliminated from the printed manuscript by some overzealous editor who had no direct knowledge of Murphy (thus making him the perfect person to demonstrate not only Murphy’s presence, but his power…..). Either those, or the printer didn’t have enough room on his press to fit in the last line, so he just left it out, and pretended not to have seen any such line….

Well, it makes as much sense as what they’re trying to convince us of does, now, doesn’t it? Yes, it does…
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Tyger! Tyger! burning bright          What the hammer? What the chain?
In the forests of the night,          In what furnace was thy brain?
What immortal hand or eye             What the anvil? What dread grasp
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?      Dare its deadly terrors clasp?

In what distant deeps or skies        When the stars threw down their spears,
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?         And water’d heaven with their tears,
On what wings dare he aspire?         Dare he laugh his work to see?
What the hand dare seize the fire?    Dare he who made the lamb make thee?

And what shoulder & what art,         Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
Could twist the sinews of they heart? In the forests of the night,
And when thy heart began to beat      What immortal hand or eye,
What dread hand & what dread feet?    Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?

— William H. Blake (1757-1827), “The Tyger”

I’ve included examples of this type of poem previously, though there aren’t many that I can find. The sheer talent, and perseverance required to create one of these leaves me breathless with admiration. Thus, it is included here for your perusal and enjoyment, gratis, and sans embellishment….. “What immortal hand or eye, Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?” Indeed….
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“But the greatest of all reformers of the depraved religion of his own country was Jesus of Nazareth. Abstracting what is really his from the rubbish in which it is buried, easily distinguished by its luster from the dross of his biographers, and as separable as the diamond from the dunghill, we have the outlines of a system of the most sublime morality which has ever fallen from the lips of man; outlines which it is lamentable he did not live to fill up… The establishment of the innocent and genuine character of this benevolent moralist, and the rescuing it from the imputation of imposture, which has resulted from artificial systems*, invented by ultra-Christian sects, unauthorized by a single word ever uttered by him, is a most desirable object… *eg. The immaculate conception of Jesus, his deification, the creation of the world by him, his miraculous powers, his resurrection and visible ascension, his corporeal presence in the Eucharist, the Trinity; original sin, atonement, regeneration, election, orders of Hierarchy, etc.” — Thomas Jefferson, Letter to William Short, October 31 (Halloween), 1819

I don’t believe that adding anything here will make the point any better than it is, so we’ll just let it fly, and only add that I agree with this fully…. and to say that I think it admirable. If one believes in God, then this becomes the only rational point of view to be found in the literature on the subject……
___________________________________

“Discourse, the sweeter banquet of the mind.” — Alexander Pope (1688-1744) — The Odyssey of Homer, Book xv, Line 433

As always, coming to the end of another Pearl is both satisfying and deflating. But, I hope always that what I’ve written may produce thoughts and/or comments from the Gentle Readers, as what Mr. Pope says is as true as the day for me…. hell, I’ve written replies to comments longer than the pearls that stimulated them. So, feel free to comment, as it strikes your fancy….

Meantime, I’m going to go take a walk; it’s a beautiful morning here in California, and I need the fresh air & exercise…. Y’all take care out there, and May the Metaphorse be with you……

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

gigoid

Kowabunga!

She rides swiftly through dark shadows, pale and grim….

Posted on April 19, 2012 by gigoid

Ffolkes,
I should know better…. Having applied for my SS Disability, I had thought that, since my last job let me go as “unfit for duty”, and since I AM unable to work due to back pain and my other physical challenges, the Federal Government, in the guise of the SS Administration, would be able to see that yes, I do need to get paid all the money I put into SS ahead of my 66th birthday.

However, in spite of my clear presentation of the facts, they denied my claim, having in their wisdom, without ever interviewing or seeing me in person, decided that I am well enough to work, able to stand for 6 or more hours a day (I can’t stand for more than 5 minutes before pain increases in my hips and back), lifting up to 50 lbs. on a regular basis, (which I can do, once, if I want to spend the next three days in bed, writhing with spasms all over my back), and working at a job for 8 hours/day (all I do now is sit in my chair, and I can’t go 8 hours without a nap being hard NOT to take….by the time I’m up for 5 hours or so, I’m exhausted, generally, from fighting against pain…).

Ah well, it isn’t unexpected, and I already have a lawyer who will no doubt be appealing the decision today. It just means that it will be probably 4-8 more months before I see any relief for the near-poverty level income I’m now living on…. oh, well, it’s a good thing I like Top Ramen……

There, whining finished for the day… no sense in worrying too much over stuff I can’t change… time will tell the tale, and all will be well…. I just have to survive until then, so, no worries….. and, it does leave me lots of time to dive for pearls. Now that my email is under control, in fact, I’m swimming in extra time. Hell, at this point, I have no idea what to do with myself once I’m done here for the day….

I guess I could be a good citizen, and get my tardy taxes done (I did finally get the forms from the library….)…. who knows? Maybe they’ll owe ME something this year…. though it would be a surprise. I haven’t found the IRS or the tax laws to be my friend in the past, so why should I expect any different now? Oh, well, I suppose I won’t know until I do it, so…. now I have a project for the day…..

But not until I Pearl, which I have now delayed significantly with this little personal chatty session…. sometimes I just can’t shut myself up…. handy for a writer, but inefficient at times….. let’s Pearl, okay? Okay…..
___________________________________

“Ignorance can be compounded, made denser, until the light of our spirits is smothered.” — Deng Ming-Dao

As I read this pearl, my immediate thought was that it is a very clear, very accurate take on the 2012 election process that is currently unfolding before us in the daily news. The end of the political scale that is represented so raggedly by what is left of the Republican Party, and the mislabeled liberal end of the scale who claim to be Democrats, are both engaging in ongoing battles to see who can display the deepest ignorance.

The leading candidate for the “loyal opposition” to the party in power, Mr. Romney, seems to have a proclivity for alienating the very people from whom he is trying to win votes; women, immigrants and Hispanics, animal lovers, seniors, teachers and students, all have been told, in no uncertain terms, that they matter not at all to him. His plan? We’ll stop taxing the rich altogether, and that will fix everything…. Sometimes I wonder if he is getting all of his information on voter wants and issues of importance from old newspapers from the 1980’s, or the 1890’s, because he certainly hasn’t a clue as to what is happening out in America in this century….

The other party, led by our first Black President, is busy hiding what the left hand is doing by distracting everyone with the tax and healthcare issues, to keep them unaware of how few of the Bill of Rights are left to us. “Executive Orders” signed by the POTUS this year, beginning on New Year’s Eve, while the voters were all busy celebrating the advent of the new year, include provisions that allow police to stop, search, and arrest any citizen of this country whom they suspect of any form of terrorism, or even of protest against the provisions of those orders.

These same police are not required to tell ANYONE that they have arrested and imprisoned a citizen, nor are they ever required to provide any evidence of their suspicions in a court of law. Even though there may be no evidence, they can subject these CITIZENS OF THIS COUNTRY to torture, to obtain a confession, or whatever it is they are after. There is no oversight to these orders; they don’t go before Congress to be approved, nor are they reviewed by the courts. Both of those particular checks on the power of the Executive Branch are completely out of the loop on this…. and they aren’t even complaining about it!

Does it physically hurt to be that stupid? — Smart Bee

My guess at the answer to this is, No. It can’t hurt very much to be that stupid, as we continue to go out each time there is an election and vote these same lying, cheating, avaricious assholes back into the same positions from which they have been oppressing the American people for oh, a hundred or so years now. I’d say that around the time of the Great Depression was when the first real strangle-hold on the national throat was first achieved…. the pure bullshit that was spewing back then can be seen to have been the first real time that the government’s outrageous lies were swallowed whole by a reluctant public, who had nothing else to eat, and thus nothing else to risk…

“He was born stupid, and greatly increased his birthright.” — Samuel Butler

So, how does it feel? Does it physically hurt to be so stupid as to be part of the crowd that continues to buy into all the bullshit lies that our own government heaps upon us every day? To keep going to the polls, just as if it really matters who gets elected? Get real, folks.

You will not find a name on the ballot that belongs to someone who is not a willing tool of the powers of oppression, the money-changers who are the power behind the scenes of every government in the world. Not going to happen; they’ve been the real power in the world for centuries, and they’re not about to give up all they have, just to be nice, or because they’ve all of a sudden grown a heart.

I don’t know about you, but I’m getting pretty fucking tired of being lied to, and cheated, and looked at as just another idiot for them to shit on….. and I’m not going to put up with it for much longer, without some kind of return fire….. Believe it….

I don’t think I am alone in this, either…. No way to tell for sure, but I find it hard to believe that EVERYONE is falling for all of it…. No matter; even if I’m alone in this, I refuse to knuckle under any further, and can only say that I will do all I can to see things turn in a direction that will return my Rights, and those of the rest of the American people…. or at least those not stupid enough to hand them over without a fight….

“He who accepts evil without protesting against it is really cooperating with it.” — Martin Luther King, Jr.
___________________________________

“A modest little person, with much to be modest about.” — Winston Churchill

Churchill is one of my heroes. His devotion to the principles of curmudgeonry is legendary among those of us who believe in those principles of interaction. This little insult is what I like to call “classic” in its simplicity. No extra words, just those needed to jab the sharp point right into the eye of the beholder, while the speaker steps back to avoid the blood splatter. Not only is it a perfect insult to use in cocktail conversation when discussing anyone who isn’t there to defend themselves (always a clever way to avoid being fired on unexpectedly….), but it is quite an accurate description of many of our beloved ruling class.

A number of public figures come to mind if I consider this, and all of them are wearing a blue suit, a white shirt, a red tie, and a flag pin on their lapel. Many of them are still breathing, and giving us the dubious benefits of what passes for wisdom amongst that mystical group who are the ancient enemies of the Illuminati, the all-knowing, all powerful, and very rich, order of the Ignoramitae…. an organization so secret, so powerfully capable, that most of Mankind has never even heard of them.

Hell, I wouldn’t have known of them, if their existence weren’t a mathematical certainty. There is no other explanation for the course of human history…. only a powerful force, acting behind the scenes, could have achieved such a long-term effect on the events that shaped our culture. Ignorance HAD to exist in such a form; nothing else makes sense….

Then, someone like Winnie comes along, and provides a sure-fire way to spot them…. just think about those folks who are always around in the background when you see photos of world leaders making nice…. the powers that truly be wouldn’t let their charges get together without at least a couple of their “handlers” present…

Well, I wouldn’t, if it were me, so I’m betting that they are nearby, just in case one of the beloved ruling class gets a wild hair, and tries to say something that actually makes sense…. I guess, if nothing else, it makes for good TV….. But, don’t count on ever getting a glimpse of one of the actual rulers of this planet… they avoid the light, like the creatures of the dark they are….
___________________________________

JABBERWOCKY

And, as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!

One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.

“And thou hast slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!”
He chortled in his joy.
— Lewis Carroll, “Through the Looking-Glass”

It was time…. I haven’t used this in several months, I believe, and every once in a while it’s good to bring it out for perusal, just to give everyone that little jolt of joy that good, solid, sheer nonsense gives. I love to have this read aloud while I close my eyes and envision the Jabberwock, whuffling through the wood, the vorpal blade going snicker-snack, and the beamish boy galumphing back with the head…. absolute bliss! It is particularly effective after reading the daily news, to give one a sense of balance…. enjoy!

“Universe: All-purpose poem.” — Ray Hand
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“My girlfriend was crushed by Bambi meets Godzilla…” — Smart Bee

Well, I don’t blame her…. so was Bambi…. (You will only get this if you’ve seen the actual film short, “Bambi meets Godzilla”, which, IMNSHO, is quite possibly the best cartoon short ever made…. seriously….) (If you have seen it, well, convince me I’m wrong… ) 😉
___________________________________

“He had come to that time in his life (it varies for every man) where a human being gives himself over to his demon or to his genius, according to a mysterious law which orders him either to destroy or to surpass himself.” — Marguerite Yourcenar

Hmm…. a nicely expressed observation by Ms. Yourcenar (No, I have no idea who she is… give me a moment to commune with Google….)

It turns out she is a very interesting person, of whom I have never heard…. just goes to show we all have a lot to learn… Here is some information from Wikipedia on this literary jewel from the twentieth century….

“Marguerite Yourcenar (8 June 1903 – 17 December 1987) was a Belgian-born French novelist and essayist. Winner of the Prix Femina and the Erasmus Prize, she was the first woman elected to the Académie française, in 1980.

In 1951 she published, in France, the novel Mémoires d’Hadrien, which she had been writing with pauses for a decade. The novel was an immediate success and met with great critical acclaim. In this novel Yourcenar recreated the life and death of one of the great rulers of the ancient world, the Roman Emperor Hadrian, who writes a long letter to Marcus Aurelius, the son and heir of Antoninus Pius, his successor and adoptive son. The Emperor meditates on his past, describing both his triumphs and his failures, his love for Antinous, and his philosophy. This novel has become a modern classic, a standard against which fictional recreations of antiquity are measured. ”

Fascinating, and a whole new author to read…. Serendipity strikes again! Before I became distracted by the author, I was going to say this about her statement….

I find myself feeling both sad and glad that I have not yet come to this point in my life. Sad because it is unfilled destiny, yet glad for the same reason, as it means that it is still something that I have to look forward to experiencing, all but guaranteeing that I have enough time left on my clock to come to that point in my journey. Whether it is truth is not clear, but it is certainly a reasonable observation, insightful as it is in looking into the nature of Man, and this gives me hope…. for as long as I can keep my cynical side from looking at it too closely…. 🙂
___________________________________

Whew! Made it…. it was looking a bit chancy there for a little while, but I think it all came together pretty well. It’s a moot point, anyway, because no way in hell I’m starting over now…. This will have to fly under its own power, or not. I’m confident it will miss the ground, thus achieving its basic task…. and if not, well, there is always tomorrow…..

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

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

gigoid

Kowabunga!

Unless the Hottentot objects, we’ll have the nachos….

Posted on February 2, 2012 by gigoid

Ffolkes,
FATAL LOGIC ERROR – Engage Brain and (R)etry Click….ah, there we go. Okay, back online. Sorry, got caught in an early morning endless loop, and almost couldn’t find the kill switch. But all is well now. Well, all is as well as its gonna get, what with global warming, overpopulation, growing famine and drought, conservative reactionism, and this year’s version of the swine flu. At least the ozone layer is okay….oh, wait, that’s almost gone too. Hmmm, okay, so maybe things aren’t all that great right now. But, at least you still have your health, yes?…..
___________________________________

“Winston Churchill, the present would-be British Fuhrer, is a person with a range of ideas limited to the adventures and opportunities of British political life. He has never given evidence of thinking extensively, or of any scientific or literary capacity… His ideology, picked up in the garrison life of India, on the reefs of South Africa, the maternal home and the conversation of wealthy Conservative households, is a pitiful jumble of incoherent nonsense. A boy scout is better equipped. He has served his purpose and it is high time he retired upon his laurels before we forget the debt we owe him…” — H. G. Wells, Tribune article, December 15, 1944

History is written by the winners….and Winnie had way more than his 15 minutes in the spotlight at center stage….. which is perhaps why it seems to mean more when such a damning criticism comes from such an unimpeachable source. H.G. Wells can certainly be considered one of the most erudite and realistic of modern philosophers; certainly his imagination of the possibilities inherent in new technology certifies him as more than merely intelligent, even somewhat spookily prophetic.

As time goes on, our society continues to advance very tidily along the same pathway into the future that Mr. Wells envisioned when gripped in the powerful and creative fist of his inspiration. His condemnation of Churchill’s curmudgeonly manners and persona are perhaps justified in the main; however, how can one not appreciate the attitude needed to carry on this famous conversation by the PM at his finest: “Mr. Prime Minister!” said the outraged Duchess of Whatever, “you are a drunken boor!” “Churchill merely responded with, “Certainly, madame, but tomorrow morning I won’t be drunk, and you will still be ugly.”…. If it’s a true anecdote, (I haven’t personally tried to verify its provenance…), it’s well worth an occasional re-telling, if only to remind us of proper protocol when consorting with those who wear sable and ermine to dinner…..
___________________________________

“I may not understand what you say, but I’ll defend to your death my right to deny it.” — Albert Alligator, in Pogo, 26 September 1951

It’s an election year, and the circus has started early. Six of the eight supposed candidates for the Republican nominee who will be offered up as a sacrifice at the altar of Obama next November have already talked themselves out of the contest (such as it is…), and now we are sentenced to at least six or eight more months of only three brands of ignorance, any one of which would be a disaster in the making as President.

If any one of the three currently leading candidates should, through some form of dark magic, happen to be elected, I’d wager serious money that we would be on the brink of World War III within a matter of weeks….it’s pretty scary. Especially when one of the front runners admits to being committed to passing a law that would make it illegal to operate the government of this country using any standards but those of the conservative right.

Yes, folks, the fanatical right-wing dingbats are coming out of the closet, and we had best remember that they too are heavily armed citizens. Only our own right to bear arms has kept them under control this long; if we aren’t careful, we’ll be living under strictly religious precepts, whether we like it or not…..

“Here’s to the New Boss, same as the Old Boss…and I get on my knees and pray we don’t get fooled again.” — Pete Townshend
___________________________________

If on my theme I rightly think,
There are five reasons why men drink,–
Good wine, a friend, because I ‘m dry,
Or lest I should be by and by,
Or any other reason why.
— John Sirmond (c. 1589-1649) — Causae Bibendi

Beautifully stated! This is the type of poetry one wants on hand when some busybody asks why one is taking a drink, any time they consider it inappropriate. There’s just something about seeing a man having a drink that arouses the outrage of women (mostly of Mrs. Grundy’s ilk), preachers, reformers, and Second Lieutenants, every time. It’s getting so a man can’t sit down to a bottle of beer without some blathering idiot telling him he’s gonna get fat, or trying to make him feel like a heel for not spending that money on some charity of their choosing.

Don’t stop me now, I’m on a roll….. no, not really. I just think it’s weird that so many people feel like everyone should live by their rules, and are not shy about telling everyone they meet that they are the best judge of what (they think) should be considered acceptable behavior. Nine times out of nine, you’ll find that these moralists (a more polite way of saying bigoted, hypocritical assholes) are guilty of every act they ascribe to others, or, if not, sure wish deep down that they could be…..
___________________________________

But you shall not escape my iambics.

Soft, sinuous patterns of unearthly beauty blithely commune with sinking stars, as pale shadows of former virtue hover near, ever clean, ever tolerant. These unbidden habits are worn with age and care, ready now for dissolution, welcoming gladly the kiss of death’s handmaiden. Unknown to all, the child stands aside, and weeps for the lost days of youth, days that now shall never be, nor yearned for ever after. Only darkness shall lay upon the landscape, cold, hard, and eternal.

Such then are the signs and portents as we enter into the unknown future, and they are grave indeed. Uncertainty will be our sole companion, as the search for hope yields no result. The lamentations of the gods shall sound the elegy for Man, who never learned to see the gift that was made, so many echoes ago, in the hopeful past; thus will we pass this plane of existence as we came, baffled and afraid…..

Well, sorry….this was supposed to be a poem, but it just ran away with me there for a few minutes. I’ll have to come back later and look at it with fresh eyes….. Okay, so it’s not bad, as a not-poem goes. I’ve certainly created worse…..I’ll just have to put it out there, and let it fly or not, as it chooses… (I do tend to anthropomorphize fairly often; its a gift…..)
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Teach me to feel another’s woe,
To hide the fault I see;
That mercy I to others show,
That mercy show to me.
— Alexander Pope (1688-1744)
— The Universal Prayer, Stanza 10

Perfect poem! The Golden Rule never smelled sweeter, and could rightly be called a rose in this guise, but by no other name would it smell as sweet. Who knows what I really mean by that? I certainly don’t; it sounds good, though, eh? I’ll settle for that…
___________________________________

Having thus discharged another morning’s duty (remember, duty is a choice!), I shall now release your attention from my control, and send you on your way into the day, hopefully infused with good karma and positive attitude, our best weapons against the minions of evil that cross our paths each day. Y’all take care out there…..

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

gigoid –The *only* duly authorized Computer Curmudgeon.

Kowabunga!

Notes on a reluctant subject…..

Posted on November 12, 2011 by gigoid

Ffolkes,
The weather, having taken a turn toward nasty, compels me to huddle up close to the fire, wrap a sturdy blanket around my shoulders, and gaze into the flames seeking visions. Hence, today we go old school…..in the last couple of days, I’ve done a lot of work around this process of making Pearls of Virtual Wisdom. I went diving for a long while, building up my stash of backup Pearls, and in the process found a very good batch of lustrous new gems. Some are included for their Truth; others merely for their Beauty. At least one is there because I thought it was funny. All have something to say, even if it is something we may not like to hear. Since I’m not writing any original material for today’s piece, I will include a couple extra meaty Pearls. Having produced over a thousand words for each of the last four or five days, it will help fill in that extra space y’all have come to know and love…..see, give me just one teeny opening, and the sarcasm slips through. Oh well, it’s best to get it out early in the day so it doesn’t fester…….

“One of the oldest human needs is having someone to wonder where you are when you don’t come home at night.” — Margaret Mead

During the darkest days of World War II, when each night brought waves of Luftwaffe bombers raining death and destruction on a near-defenseless London, Prime Minister Churchill went on the air to address the British people. “I read this morning’s paper that Herr Hitler plans to wring England’s neck like that of a chicken,” he began, “and I was reminded of what the Irish poacher said as he stood on the gallows. Its seems the poor fellow was approached by a well-meaning if somewhat overzealous priest who, in horrific detail, described the unfading torments of Hades which awaited him if he did not repent of his misdeeds. The condemned man listened patiently to all that the priest had to say, and when he was done, grinned broadly and replied, ‘Eat it raw, fuzz nuts.'” (YES!!!)

Keep in mind that neither success nor failure is ever final.

“As to values, I was taught — and still believe — that a sense of honor is necessary to personal self-respect; that duty, recognizing an individual’s subordination to community welfare, is as important as rights; that loyalty, which is based on the trustworthiness of honorable men, is still a virtue; and that work and self-discipline are as essential to individual happiness as they are to a viable society. Indeed, I still believe in patriotism — not if it is limited to parades and flag-waving, but because worthy national goals and aspirations can be realized only through love of country and a desire to be a responsible citizen.” — Lewis F. Powell (Former Supreme Court Justice)

It is the little rift within the lute
That by and by will make the music mute,
And ever widening slowly silence all.
— Alfred Tennyson (1809-1892)
— Idylls of the King, Merlin and Vivien

— Bother! said Pooh, as he stomped Barney’s butt to Jello.

“Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle.” — Philo

“What embitters the world is not excess of criticism, but an absence of self-criticism.” — G. K. Chesterton, Sidelights on New London and Newer New York

Intelligence is believing only half of what you hear; Brilliance is knowing which half.

All rivers flow into the sea, for it is lower than they; Humility is what gives it its strength.

And one last thought for contemplation……

“Make no mistake: the weeds will win. Nature bats last.” — Robert Pyle

I hope you have enjoyed reading this little tour through a bed of Pearls as much as I did in putting it together. What with all the extras today, there’s probably enough potentially enlightening material to create a veritable army of Buddha’s! Well, maybe not; that would be getting a little far away from his message……..oh well……y’all take care out there……

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

gigoid

Kowabunga!

gigoid

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

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gigoid

Exploring Consensual Reality

Tag Archives: Winston Churchill

Bee balm is often useful with such wounds…

Some lessons are more painful than others….

Entirely costumed in pale green aspic….

Riding forth with the myrmidons….

Real fun begins in the burrow….

Send the teak button away for now….

Unless the Hottentot objects, we’ll have the nachos….

Notes on a reluctant subject…..

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