Resurrected Stuff & Things (Ghosts of Experiences past)

Domestication=Suffocation

6/7/2013

You know, sometimes I think I would like to go feral. But, I have been thoroughly domesticated. I no longer have the skills needed to survive in the wild. My skills are only how to survive in the "civilized" world. And, I am doing a poor job of that.

Avoiding nature, it is a difficult thing at times...
I was driving home from shopping when on a back street a family of doves decided to cross the street in front of me. You know, doves the birds, not a human family named Dove (and obviously not the candy bar.) They were just WALKING across the street. WALKING. They didn't even hurry. I had to stop my car and wait for them to cross. DOVES. BIRDS THAT CAN FLY. WALKING. They weren't even in a cross-walk. They were 'jay'-walking. They were all in a little row, like ducks (which is another experience that haunts me still, and will tell in a few minutes.) Walking. Across the street. Sheesh...

Anyway, to the duck story. I was again driving home from shopping or something, on a fairly major thoroughfare which is next to a lake, or stream or rivulet, it is called Strawbridge lake, but it is more like a creek, ANYWAY, running along the medial strip were 6 baby ducks. They almost blended in with the dark pavement. Cute little baby ducks, all by themselves, no mother to be seen, running along the inner medial strip of this four lane highway (two on each side of the strip.) I was extremely upset and wanted to turn around and go back to shoosh them out of the street but the person who was with me said that they may already have been hit and I was already a basket case concerning this, that I should not go back. I didn't. It still haunts me. Every time I must use that road now I avert my eyes in case there are little pulverized duckling bits crushed into the pavement. It was very traumatic. Those poor little ducklings. No mama, and I could have rescued them. My friend said if I had gone back I may have made them run directly in front of the traffic and surely be killed, or be hit by a car myself. My friend said it is part of nature. Things die. I said asphalt and automobiles are not part of nature. It still upsets me.

‘My Big Book of Things I’ve Observed, Touched, Sniffed, Heard, Licked...I mean liked and Imagined: The Good, the Bad and the Tasty., from the past, in the present (which immediately becomes the past, anyway) and whenever.'

5/24/2013

(which will be added to as they come to mind)
Scents #1- burnt coffee smells like skunk stink.

Observation #1- If you put your hands over your ears (to block sound, or you could play some favourite piece of music) and blink your eyes really fast, the world looks like an old fashioned silent movie (except for the colour of course.)

Observation #2- the taste of a penny is reminiscent of the taste of losing a tooth.
Probably because the copper/metallic tastes like blood.
Have you tasted any change lately?
I suggest, if you do, you wash it first as coins, well money in general, is very unsanitary.
And please do not ask what possessed me to taste a penny.
I will eventually add more. Eventurally<(that is sort of like Eventually + Adventure=Eventurally or maybe it should be Adventurally...yep, that sounds better). Maybe. And maybe not.

Observation #3- Actually just a personal thought, not an actual observation. Well, I guess it is an observation formed from my thoughts-
Maybe the brightness of active black holes in space are caused by the final screams of what it is consuming, only to be spat (or poohed) back out elsewhere to be reborn as something new in the universe?

Observation #4- I saw on boingboing where someone feels we should name ‘the moon'.
They cited, which makes sense, that other planet's moons have actual names.
I mean, it is descriptive of what it is, A moon. M-O-O-N (if you saw ‘The Stand' by Stephen King you'll understand.)
Can you imagine, if there is life out there in the universe that knows of us, what
they may think? "Huh, look at those Earthlings, they name everything else, then just call their moon, moon. How creative."
Actually, when I first read of it, I did not think of it in that way.
I didn't think of it straight off, and thought, well, let's just rename the Earth too and call it
something like Bob.
Then we would all be Boblings......until it sunk in.
After the realization that it is indeed unnamed, I thought perhaps they were going to name it Neil in honour of the firstman to set foot on it.
Of course, that would change the lyrics to a lot of songs. Think about it.
I guess, calling it ‘moon' is the same as calling your pet cat ‘cat' or your child ‘boy' or ‘girl'.
So, maybe it does need a name. Poor, sad man in the moon. We could just call it Roquefort or some type of cheese, probably something with holes would be better.
Anyway, that is hmy second observational deep thought for the day.

Deep Thought #1- I have struggled with trying to intertwine religion with science. Trying to join the two in a belief I can accept. A man with a long white beard just doesn't make sense. Maybe, what humans consider the creator exists beyond the universe? Maybe 'it', 'God' or whatever one wishes to call it, is what the universe is expanding into, or maybe the universe is actually 'it's internal organs/system and is even larger and more vast than we can ever imagine? Then everything absolute would be a part of 'it', as well as it being a part of us...of everything. Perhaps 'it' is the sentient energy, energy that is within us all that can never be destroyed, the Spiritus Mundi, if you will, that connects us all, connects everything. This, to me, is something I can believe in, my connection to the universe and to all things. That I am made of the same basic stuff as everything else, not only that which is flesh and blood, but of the earth, the sea, the universe....and perhaps even beyond. Now I need a cup of tea, which I feel particularly connected to and will become a part of me in it's sacrifice of being drunk (drank? drinked? what ever!) Felt the need to lighten the moment :-)

Alternative Deep Thought(s) #?-
How do we know this is not all a dream?
Or some scientist's or alien's simulation?
Maybe we are programmed to think we are in control?
How do we actually know we are real?
All we can do is accept that we are because we just don't know.
We could be merely a recorded time capsule, like it all has happened
already, and is just on replay?
Or we're part of a video game like The Sims.
Or merely a computer's idea of ‘human' civilization, within itself.
Or in a giant holodeck and are someone else's creation.
A fragment of someone's imagination.
Maybe kind of like Schrodinger's cat, sort of, only it is the universe
inside the box.
I guess it all doesn't really matter, which would make it anti matter, because we are what we think we are.
For now, at least.

Alternative Deep Thought #?a-
Maybe we don't die. Maybe we are just deleted.
Same difference, really.

Alternative Not So Deep Thought #1-
Maybe we are all just separate reality shows on some future's ubermodern (or, perhaps what we consider 'alien's' [and by that I do not mean like (illegal or not) Mexicans etc., who, might I add, have a very rich culture and I like their Day of the Dead stuff]) television screen.

Alternative Deep Thought #?b- (Addendum to Observation #4...I know, it gets complicated. Such is life. And Space. Sort of. At least to me.)
I have read now, that anything being sucked into a black hole is crushed when it reaches the center. Or torn to shreds, or something like that. Let's just say, something very unpleasant happens. Or so I've read.
I think Stephen Hawking (whom I only recently found out is British. Can't they make a computerized voice that sounds British? Anyway,) said the universe began, the 'big bang' (not the television show), was a black hole or something. Before, there was nothing there. I cannot wrap my brain around that.
A black hole was created out of nothingness, IN nothing? Then what, it vomited up the universe? God's innards? What? I don't understand. I like reading about this, but when I get to the equation business I think 'oh, look at the pretty numbers, like abstract art' then my brain freezes up.
I guess I have more in common with Penny, although I am interested in trying to understand this stuff.

Alternative Deep Thought #?b1 Addendum- Okay, it all has to do with Gravity (not to be mistaken for 'gravitas', at least I don't think so), Singularities (both naked, and not naked I guess) and other stuff. I read through it all once, then again, and again. Sometimes only words like 'under which' 'can form' 'must have started' are the only parts I understand *sigh*.
So, here is the thing- "While working out the conditions under which the superdense hearts of black holes can form (I actually know some people with superdense hearts, but that is more like 'oh you are so super dense and so is your heart'), Hawking realized that our Universe must have started out in a similar state."
As I read on incomprehensibly, I will share more.

Not So Deep Self-Observational Thought #1 (actually perhaps #2 would be more appropriate, but I digress)- I've made a discovery about myself!
How, like the spacetime singularity that could exist at the center of a black hole (in space, obviously), I am also at a point of infinite density....at least as far as my understanding of physics and such are concerned (and not the of cathartical type, I understand that, duh! The other should be so easy to comprehend.)
Actually, I am quite infinitely dense on many things, but that does not stop me from trying to understand...and it never will.

My Most Sincerest Deep Thought #1nfinity (and yes I meant the '1' because there will be more)- I want to believe that our soul/energy, whatever it is that makes us, who we are, never dies.
Is reincarnated, moves on throughout time.
I think, this is why you might meet someone whom you immediately like or dislike,
without really knowing why. You just have this inner feeling, a sense of them.
Maybe you knew them in a past life. They could have been your mother, father, brother,
sister, husband, wife, lover, friend, enemy.
Your family may have had some connection to their's.
Is it merely an imprint on ones genes, or is it something else?
There are new souls and old ones.
Maybe a part of our soul/energy splits away, and becomes a new soul, that of our children.
I am still working this out...

Abstract Thought #Z% (how abstract is that?)- If the future is already there, and we just haven't reached that point yet, maybe that explains Déjà vu? For instance, and I mentioned this before but probably deleted it, have you ever been someplace or had a conversation, and it is all familiar to you, even though you have never been at that place before, nor had the conversation previously? You just knew it.
Could this be kind of like having had a glance at the future beforehand? A premonition? Your future, bleeding through to the present? Is it a place you visited/conversation you had, in another lifetime? Is it some genetic ancestral memory simply imprinted on your being?
Or is it, like some scientists have said, our brain knowing seconds before we are consciously aware, of what we are about to do? Like recognition of the place/conversation those few seconds before actually being there or hearing it?
Kind of strange that our brains would/could do that. So are we controlling our brain (subconsciously), or is our brain controlling us? It is always working silently in the background, processing, making sure everything is working properly to keep us alive without us even thinking about it. Sort of like a symbiote.
Just a thought.

Minor Observation #who cares- I watched the movie ‘Frankenstein', this version starring Kenneth Branagh as Victor Frankenstein and Robert De Niro as his creation.
I have always felt sorrow for the creature, because like a child, he did not ask to be given life, as he did not ask to be repulsive to others. I think De Niro portrayed the role quite well, and believably.
What I have always found curious is why the Doctor did not simply reanimate a complete newly deceased corpse, why the necessity of sewing together parts?
The creatures final dialogue with Captain Robert Walton at the death of Victor Frankenstein-

"And do you dream?" said the daemon. "Do you think that I was then dead to agony and remorse? He," he continued, pointing to the corpse, "he suffered not in the consummation of the deed. Oh! Not the ten-thousandth portion of the anguish that was mine during the lingering detail of its execution. A frightful selfishness hurried me on, while my heart was poisoned with remorse. Think you that the groans of Clerval were music to my ears? My heart was fashioned to be susceptible of love and sympathy, and when wrenched by misery to vice and hatred, it did not endure the violence of the change without torture such as you cannot even imagine.

"After the murder of Clerval I returned to Switzerland, heart-broken and overcome. I pitied Frankenstein; my pity amounted to horror; I abhorred myself. But when I discovered that he, the author at once of my existence and of its unspeakable torments, dared to hope for happiness, that while he accumulated wretchedness and despair upon me he sought his own enjoyment in feelings and passions from the indulgence of which I was forever barred, then impotent envy and bitter indignation filled me with an insatiable thirst for vengeance. I recollected my threat and resolved that it should be accomplished. I knew that I was preparing for myself a deadly torture, but I was the slave, not the master, of an impulse which I detested yet could not disobey. Yet when she died! Nay, then I was not miserable. I had cast off all feeling, subdued all anguish, to riot in the excess of my despair. Evil thenceforth became my good. Urged thus far, I had no choice but to adapt my nature to an element which I had willingly chosen. The completion of my demoniacal design became an insatiable passion. And now it is ended; there is my last victim!"

I was at first touched by the expressions of his misery; yet, when I called to mind what Frankenstein had said of his powers of eloquence and persuasion, and when I again cast my eyes on the lifeless form of my friend, indignation was rekindled within me. "Wretch!" I said. "It is well that you come here to whine over the desolation that you have made. You throw a torch into a pile of buildings, and when they are consumed, you sit among the ruins and lament the fall. Hypocritical fiend! If he whom you mourn still lived, still would he be the object, again would he become the prey, of your accursed vengeance. It is not pity that you feel; you lament only because the victim of your malignity is withdrawn from your power."

"Oh, it is not thus—not thus," interrupted the being. "Yet such must be the impression conveyed to you by what appears to be the purport of my actions. Yet I seek not a fellow feeling in my misery. No sympathy may I ever find. When I first sought it, it was the love of virtue, the feelings of happiness and affection with which my whole being overflowed, that I wished to be participated. But now that virtue has become to me a shadow, and that happiness and affection are turned into bitter and loathing despair, in what should I seek for sympathy? I am content to suffer alone while my sufferings shall endure; when I die, I am well satisfied that abhorrence and opprobrium should load my memory. Once my fancy was soothed with dreams of virtue, of fame, and of enjoyment. Once I falsely hoped to meet with beings who, pardoning my outward form, would love me for the excellent qualities which I was capable of unfolding. I was nourished with high thoughts of honour and devotion. But now crime has degraded me beneath the meanest animal. No guilt, no mischief, no malignity, no misery, can be found comparable to mine. When I run over the frightful catalogue of my sins, I cannot believe that I am the same creature whose thoughts were once filled with sublime and transcendent visions of the beauty and the majesty of goodness. But it is even so; the fallen angel becomes a malignant devil. Yet even that enemy of God and man had friends and associates in his desolation; I am alone.

"You, who call Frankenstein your friend, seem to have a knowledge of my crimes and his misfortunes. But in the detail which he gave you of them he could not sum up the hours and months of misery which I endured wasting in impotent passions. For while I destroyed his hopes, I did not satisfy my own desires. They were forever ardent and craving; still I desired love and fellowship, and I was still spurned. Was there no injustice in this? Am I to be thought the only criminal, when all humankind sinned against me? Why do you not hate Felix, who drove his friend from his door with contumely? Why do you not execrate the rustic who sought to destroy the saviour of his child? Nay, these are virtuous and immaculate beings! I, the miserable and the abandoned, am an abortion, to be spurned at, and kicked, and trampled on. Even now my blood boils at the recollection of this injustice.

"But it is true that I am a wretch. I have murdered the lovely and the helpless; I have strangled the innocent as they slept and grasped to death his throat who never injured me or any other living thing. I have devoted my creator, the select specimen of all that is worthy of love and admiration among men, to misery; I have pursued him even to that irremediable ruin.

"There he lies, white and cold in death. You hate me, but your abhorrence cannot equal that with which I regard myself. I look on the hands which executed the deed; I think on the heart in which the imagination of it was conceived and long for the moment when these hands will meet my eyes, when that imagination will haunt my thoughts no more.

"Fear not that I shall be the instrument of future mischief. My work is nearly complete. Neither yours nor any man's death is needed to consummate the series of my being and accomplish that which must be done, but it requires my own. Do not think that I shall be slow to perform this sacrifice. I shall quit your vessel on the ice raft which brought me thither and shall seek the most northern extremity of the globe; I shall collect my funeral pile and consume to ashes this miserable frame, that its remains may afford no light to any curious and unhallowed wretch who would create such another as I have been. I shall die. I shall no longer feel the agonies which now consume me or be the prey of feelings unsatisfied, yet unquenched. He is dead who called me into being; and when I shall be no more, the very remembrance of us both will speedily vanish. I shall no longer see the sun or stars or feel the winds play on my cheeks.

"Light, feeling, and sense will pass away; and in this condition must I find my happiness. Some years ago, when the images which this world affords first opened upon me, when I felt the cheering warmth of summer and heard the rustling of the leaves and the warbling of the birds, and these were all to me, I should have wept to die; now it is my only consolation. Polluted by crimes and torn by the bitterest remorse, where can I find rest but in death?

"Farewell! I leave you, and in you the last of humankind whom these eyes will ever behold. Farewell, Frankenstein! If thou wert yet alive and yet cherished a desire of revenge against me, it would be better satiated in my life than in my destruction. But it was not so; thou didst seek my extinction, that I might not cause greater wretchedness; and if yet, in some mode to me, thou hadst not ceased to think and feel, thou wouldst not desire against me a vengeance greater than that which I feel. Blasted as thou wert, my agony was still superior to thine, for the bitter sting of remorse will not cease to rankle in my wounds until death shall close them forever.

"But soon," he cried with sad and solemn enthusiasm, "I shall die, and what I now feel be no longer felt. Soon these burning miseries will be extinct. I shall ascend my funeral pile triumphantly and exult in the agony of the torturing flames. The light of that conflagration will fade away; my ashes will be swept into the sea by the winds. My spirit will sleep in peace, or if it thinks, it will not surely think thus. Farewell."

He sprang from the cabin window as he said this, upon the ice raft which lay close to the vessel. He was soon borne away by the waves and lost in darkness and distance."

　
Thought # Zzzz? while lying awake, unable to sleep. Actually, that is when my mind works best-
I believe, or at least want to believe (*questions have been posed to me that shake my beliefs), not all is mere coincidence.
That we have a connection to everything, to the uber all, in some way, shape or form. To not only one another, I to you, you to me, but to every living thing, as well as that which is no longer, or never has, ‘lived'.
A connection to earth itself and on into the universe.
I cannot say of what lies beyond because it is hidden from us. Perhaps it is the final connection.
I don't know.

Thought #Zzzz?A (which takes us back to the beginning. Sort of :-)- If one believes in
reincarnation, as I would like to (see *above), then the preservation of the planet is a necessity not only for future generations, but for our own return.

Feelings #1- I like hugs. And embraces. Not the anaconda's type of hug/embrace. Or bear hugs/embraces for that matter, because if a bear really did hug you, you would probably end up dead.
Or maimed for life.
An anaconda's would just suffocate and crush you.
No, I like the warm, comforting type of hug. A friendly hug.
Embraces, on the other hand, are more for someone you love
very deeply.
Of course, that embrace in time could end up like an anaconda's or a bear's, but you would be dead or maimed or suffocated and crushed on the inside.
Kisses are germ carrying, at least when there is an exchange of saliva.
Bodily fluid mingling of any sort should be with someone you truly love.
I mean, if you exchange fluids, then you should be able to exchange your deepest thoughts, correct?
Anyway, I like hugs.
I even used to hug my cat, Sweetums. She never really liked hugs though. She was a dear little soul even so and persevered me. She has gone to cat heaven :-(
I think I need a hug right now...

Thought Concerning Feelings #Yes- I used to believe everyone was the same, well, I still believe we are as far as feelings/emotions go, it is just which feelings/emotions we allow to take precedence over the others. Like if we let anger, greed, selfishness, hatred and all the negative hurtful ones, override the good and positive ones like caring, kindness, thoughtfulness, love and so forth. (I know, I know, sounds nauseatingly optimistic, sort of, but not really and anyway, it is my nauseatingly trying to be optimistic thought, and I can think whatever I please and so can you and the beauty is, no one can ever stop you from it. That would actually be another thought, I think, the thought that no one can stop you from thinking thoughts, only possibly stop you from sharing them in some way [i.e. holding their ears, not reading them, overall banning of sharing them in any way, etc. but they still can't stop you from thinking them.)

Hypothetical Thought #....- if a person was to know their future completely, all that was destined to occur in their life and they were unable to change any of it, would that make their life boring? To always know what was going to happen next?
Dependant on what their future held, would it keep them in dread and fear or would they accept it and make the most out of every day given (like one should, good or bad evenso)? On the opposite side, would they eagerly anticipate the good things, or would it spoil the surprise?
Just a passing thought.

Truism Plus My Added ¢ Worth #I do not get along well with numbers- "Never judge a book by it's cover".....or a product by it's packaging. It's what's inside that counts. It's content.
Something I do not always heed. I mean, everyone can be impressed by a beautifully designed package, but does the product itself live up to it's look or claims?
Maybe it does, and maybe it doesn't. Do you take a chance with it anyway? You might be surprised that it actually is a wonderful product both outside and in, or you might be totally disappointed because what's inside is not as beautiful, and is, in fact, the complete opposite. Let alone not living up to it's claim.
Regret- a learning tool. A lesson.
But it all depends on if you are a good student, or not.
For instance, I have always been bad at math. Really, really bad.
Mostly because one and one does not always add up to two. Sometimes they add up to one, and sometimes they don't add up at all and remain single digits.
Addition is not so bad, most of my problems are with division.

Observation (and sort of a complaint) #5- I do not like the taste of wooden sticks. Like what some/most yogurt/fruit/ice cream bars are on. You savour the yumminess of the bar itself, then, when you get to the wooden stick and lick off the remaining goodness, all you are left with tasting is the stick. And it tastes rather yucky. And you could, theoretically, get splinters on your tongue. That would be very painful, I should imagine. Why do the manufacturers do that? Save a tree and use something else, environmentally friendly, of course, and that doesn't leave a residual unpleasant taste. Maybe make it a further treat, like on a candy stick or cane! Yeah! Updated thought- Pretzel Sticks!!!! Frozen yogurt or ice cream bars on pretzel sticks (maybe even chocolate covered pretzel sticks!)!! Fruit/Sorbet bars on complimentary flavoured fruit candy sticks! No more taste of wooden sticks, tree saved, only waste is the wrapper!

Curious Thoughts # I can't be bothered with these #s anymore- I subscribe to ‘The Last Word on Nothing' and today they had an article on what I assume to be a rare condition, where people feel one or more of their body parts (generally limbs) do not belong to them. It is referred to as BIID (body integrity identity disorder). This is not only tragic, and rather horrifying for the persons themselves, but for people who really have had to have amputations due to accidents, disease etc. It cited one person as saying they did not feel their soul extended into one of their legs.
Obviously it is a psychological disorder. Here is an excerpt from the article-

"Neuroscience has shown us over the past decade or so that this sense of ownership over our body parts is strangely malleable, even among normal healthy people. In 1998, cognitive scientists at Carnegie Mellon University in Pittsburgh performed a deceptively simple experiment. They sat subjects down at a table with their left hands resting on a table. A screen prevented the subjects from seeing their hands: instead, a rubber hand was placed in front of the screen. The researchers then used two small paint brushes to stroke both the real hand and the rubber hand at the same time. When questioned later, the subjects said that they eventually felt the brush not on their real hand, but on the rubber hand. More significantly, many said they felt as if the rubber hand was their own.
The rubber-hand illusion illustrates how the way we experience our body parts is a dynamic process, one that involves constant integration of various senses. And if we can feel as if we own something as inanimate as a rubber hand, can we own something that doesn't exist? Seemingly, yes. Patients who have lost a limb can sometimes sense its presence, often immediately after surgery and at times even years after the amputation - so-called "phantom limbs"."

My gramps had fingers missing due to an accident with a table/band (whatever they are called) saw, and he would say, when it was cold, he could feel it even in his missing fingers, and that sometimes they would itch. I thought maybe it was because his brain did not acknowledge the digits were missing.
Anyway, what interested me about this entire article is, just how much can we trust our own brains?
How do we even know what we see and hear is being processed correctly? IS actually what we are seeing/hearing? Not only that, how do we know it is preforming it's duties (no, I will not snicker, this is serious stuff) as it should, other than when illness of some type alerts our conscious self of it?
I am not even going to bring in anything about past lives, or genetic ancestral memories playing a part in it, just our brains alone, it's thought patterns, abilities, what it allows, what it does on it's own, etc. is one of the most amazing things ever. It really is like some symbiotic thing. Sort of.

Recent Personal Observation On Taste #today- Starbucks Green Tea Latte sort of tastes like how I imagine Lancaster county (Pa.) with it's cows and green-ness would taste.....Kinda by how it smells there....in summer....green with cows....

Observation #6- It's a darn shame how most living things, both plant and animal (their flesh, seed, ebryos etc.) have to be so tasty...

Sad Thought #sad- :-(
Maybe what separates us from other species
is that we have learned to hurt one another so well.
Not only physically,
which some do quite skillfully,
no, it is the hurt that cuts one's soul.

A Short Observational Story (sort of) #No.-
The domesticated cat walks the interior of her domain. She knows nothing of the world outside. She peers out the window as if it were a television screen. Therefore, nothing truly existed for her beyond her boundaries. She was content, until one day she ventured out when the door was left ajar. Frightened by the vastness of the unknown, she ran back inside to the safety of all she had ever known. It changed her, though.
Somewhere, deep within her now, was a yearning she could not define and it haunted her from that moment forward.
The lioness at the zoo grieved as she paced her cell, dreaming of the land she once roamed free.
Or thought she did. Was it a memory or an ancestral dream? She paused a moment in thought, then continued pacing her boundaries. It was all she had.
One, content to dream. The other, dreams to remain content.

Observation #last- Wishing on aeroplanes at night, mistaking them for stars, is not recognized as a grantable wish. Even if you had something in your eye and had to remove your contact lenses, so therefore could not distinguish a difference. Sparkly things in the sky at night pretty much look alike. If you are near-sighted. Except the moon. I wonder, if you wish on the Sun, since it is an uberStar, would your wish then be granted?

The Following Are Added Complaints, Whatnots, Mindless Meanderings and Frustrations...

Serious Thought #1- Life is really like a congested one-way highway, from which you can never turn back.
It is not a free-way. There are tolls one must pay, metaphorically speaking.
Yeah, there are off ramps to different temporary places, events, rest stops.
Everyone's rushing to one destination or another.
But every street/boulevard/road/pike/route/thoroughfare/byway etc. eventually leads back to the main, for which there is only one true exit.
Hopefully it does not lead to a complete dead end.

Complaint #1 (sort of)- I don’t know if a neighbor is burning incense along with wood in their fireplace/wood burning stove, but it sure smells like it, and it permeates into the house.
It is not necessarily a totally unpleasant smell, but it is not a pleasant one either.
I just like the smell of wood burning. And the burning of leaves in the fall. Dunno why. Maybe I was an arsonist in a past life.
Maybe just an arse. Dunno. Could’ve been. Maybe now, too. Even your best friends won’t tell you. Well, some will. And enemies are always willing to point it out. So do other arses. Takes one, to know one, as they (whoever ‘they’ are) say. I’ve always wondered about ‘them’. Maybe ‘they’ are the Illuminati.
Anyway, I probably like the smell of wood burning because I like camping.
But only the kind of camping where there are no serial killers in the woods. Or scary, inbred, hillbillies (no offense to regular hillbillies. I rather like them, and their music.)
Crystal Lake is in NJ. I live in NJ (when I am not inside my head). We also have a Haddonfield, with an Elm Street. As well as a township called Voorhees.
What does that tell you? Well, I’m gonna tell ya' anyway. Make sure you camp outside the state.

Complaint #2 (yeah, who doesn't like to complain about something, politics, the weather, someone else, etc.)-
Anyway, Spring has sprung, and so has season allergies....what, do my sinuses react on cue? Yes, they do! Stuffy nose, watery eyes and nothing major is really blooming yet! Maybe it is just a cold. They've been going around and seems hardly no one knows to cover their mouths when they sneeze anymore! Explosive germ warfare, I think. Yep, that was two, count 'em, two complaints right in a row! That is enough for today. I'm going to go have a nice steamy cup of tea, open up those nasal passages in an enjoyable way. If not, it will be Neti pot time. It's really interesting how the saline water goes in one nostril and comes out the other. You just have to remember to breath through your mouth. Unless you like to choke and sputter a lot.
And, here is a short poem, presented to you in keeping with the season, that a friend of mine from NY used to recite-

"Spring is sprung, the grass is rizzed,
I wonda’s where da boidies is?
Da boid is on da wing,
no, dat’s absoid, da wing is on da boid!"

(No offense meant [for I have lived there] to any New Yawkas, and, if so, take the rod out.)

Whatnots #1 (this, as in, what nots to do)- Share my thoughts and feelings.
Basically, if you don’t open your mouth, you won’t put your foot in it.

Whatnots #2 (still as in what nots to do)- Tell the truth.
Because you won’t be believed anyway.
It will only be thought of as scheiße
or, that you are ‘fledermaus scheiße verrückt’.
I guess that’s like having non-terminal rabies,
which one could contract from inhaling/playing in/definitely licking, guano I guess.

(Not so) Serious Thought #2 (well, it is sort of serious, hopefully in a non-offensive way if you remember to remove the rod first before reading :)- No lamb this year for Easter <(not serious at all...). Too expensive, so it will be the proverbial Easter Ham <(...or this.)
I feel sorry for Jewish people. If they had acknowledge Jesus as the Messiah, they could be eating pork products too<(a little more serious, but it all goes down hill from here on...)>
When thinking about it, Jesus being metaphorically a sacrificial lamb, eating lamb would be somewhat like the eucharist/sacrament, sort of symbolically cannibalistic. But then, so would ham (which is pink pork) if you consider the word ‘long pig’. The other white meat. ‘Nuf said about this.

Mindless Meandering #1 (past & present, from a senseless wandering mind)- 'It's raining, it's pouring, the old man is snoring'....he really needs to see a specialist as he may have sleep apnea.
At times the rain relaxes me, the sound of it, the smell of it, the feel of it. At other times it just depresses. Today's rain is a depressing one, and when stuck inside makes me contemplative (being inside, I look into myself. I study, me.)
I wonder why people put so much stock in certain things. For instance, why a person's religious beliefs should be so important to anyone other than they themselves (I consider religion a personal communion, but then again, I was never big on large group followings.) What one believes spiritually, or does not believe, should be of concern to no one other than themselves. Why people feel the need to group together in beliefs is beyond me, and to criticize another's beliefs is just sanctimonious. Following blindly (and not just in religion), and not rationalizing for oneself, seems constraining although I guess there is something to be said for having faith itself in someone or something.
It is sad that we are so solitary in this world, packed inside these organic shells, trying to communicate with things as misleading as words. It is so hard to explain ones feelings. So many opportunities pass us by because of it.

It's raining, it's pouring...
Nasty weather. Bleak. Gray.
I wish it would just go away.
Though April showers may come your way,
They bring the flowers that bloom in May
and hay fever.
March comes in like a lion
and goes out like a lamb....
(I thought they were supposed to lie down
together?
Maybe just until before the slaughter....)
March the winds gust
when storms approach,
and I've lost trust....
in myself.
My once broken foot aches when it rains.
Bone pains.
Every nerve in my body is on alert
for I always fear oncoming storms.
I think I hear the rumble of distant thunder
approaching,
or was it just an aeroplane?
My grandfather would say ‘there is nothing to fear,
for it is only dwarves
playing ten pins up in the mountains,
and when they make a strike it causes thunder,
lightning'.
So it would not be frightening.
Those storms of childhood.
There are all types of storms,
Not all are weather brought....

(Very) Serious Thought #3- Graviteheheheheheh...teee....it goes through my head like that now ever since hearing the Gorillaz Sound Check.
Gravity, sooner or later, adheres us all somewhere on the planet. Even though, every piece of the earth is owned by someone or something. A country, a state, an individual. Or at least they think they own it because they either paid for it or took/won (as in war) it from someone/something else. Of course, then boundaries must be placed (fences, walls, even if invisible), rules and laws are then created to govern the land as to who can come and who can go and who can stay and who must leave. In their belief they own the land. Just until someone else wants it, that is.
Maybe the land beneath the seas far from shore (outland waters, because I think all inland ones and just off the coasts still belong to one country or another) is still ‘unowned’. And maybe there are a few undiscovered islands, but I have my doubts. There can always be new, volcanically created ones popping up here and there eventually, I suppose. Guess they’re free until someone/something takes possession of them, too.
Of course, as the ice-caps melt from global warming or simply due to earth's own evolution, there will be even less and less land.
Maybe. Maybe not.
But for now, we are all stuck here by graviteheheheheheh..tee until our switch is turned off....then we get to float above it all, boundless and unbound....(Clause- gravity, not to be confused with gravitas. But the end is most definitely grave.)

Mindless Meandering #2- I have cousins who are half Jewish, half Gentilian <(not to be confused with 'reptilian' in any way, shape[shifting], or form) Christians. Easter must be quite conflicting for them.

When I asked them their thoughts on this, they merely shrugged.

Mindless Meandering #3- Follow-up on gravity...*ahem* Without gravity, we would not fall down. Ever.

Opinion #....well, there is no 'opinions' actually listed in the title, so this is a random, drive-by posting- It is of my opinion, that perhaps some opinions, are the cause wars.
Opinions may, in fact, be better off being kept to oneself.
But I pay no heed to my own opinions!
And neither does Phyllis. She is even worse than me!
After all, she is the brains, I am merely the comedy relief!

(Phyllis Pharaday is/was my virtual partner as a theoretical ventriloquist act at Welcome to Steampunk. She was, theoretically, a theoretical physicist.)

Frustration #new- I added this to the subject list. I have a lot of them. Frustrations. Too many to list, plus some involve certain people who frustrate me (you 'know' who you are if you are reading this, and if you aren't then you don't 'know') but this is not about people, this is about things. Presently it is about why can I not play the banjo well!?! I practice until my fingers are sore. I play it better than the violin at least (which, when I ‘play’ [and I use the word loosely] makes all living things within range, cringe. Even plants.), but not as good as the guitar. Maybe it is because I do not understand the string theory so well? Since they are all stringed. Maybe when I figure it all out, I will be in command of ALL stringed instruments! Of all string everywhere, for that matter. Even those pesky ones that you pull and then things come undone.

I need to concentrate more upon this. :)

(Very) Serious Thought/Mindless Meandering #s3 inclusive- An addendum to gravity.
Gravity makes us cling to the earth. If not, we would float
up into the atmosphere and suffocate, then probably implode
or something just as nasty.
Therefore, ‘clingy' can be a good thing.
Even in people. Maybe some feel if they do not cling,
they will float too far away and suffocate.
Metaphorically speaking.
Maybe clinging keeps them grounded .
Metaphorically speaking.

Mindless Meandering...or somethng...not sure of it's catagory....maybe I need to create a 'bat crap crazy' one... #4- Seek and you shall find (and not the indian kind. That is spelled differently
but sounds the same. I think. Maybe Sikhs do seek. Who knows.)
I have suspected some things, and have been wrong, wrong, wrong. A trilogy of wrongness. (Intuition doesn’t always work. For that matter, how do we ever know what we perceive is real? The mind plays tricks on us. Why does it do that? Is it for protection? Or just f**king with us? Maybe, our entire bodies are not really ours, just vessels, including our brain, and it is our energy that is sentient but not always in control? A symbiote. The energy that is our souls. Trapped, gaoled (like Australia was before) and just using these flesh sacks to become mobile prisons. I’ve often wondered that. )
Anyway.
I have suspected some things and have been right (notice I only said ‘right’ once because I have been wrong more often than not, so the trilogy above.)
I think I’ve grown tired of suspecting, though.
And seeking.
At least I think this is my sentient self speaking and not the
brain just trying to perform it’s quiet,
‘behind the scenes’ job in protecting it’s temporary owner from something....

Most Serious Final Thought #*insert symbol for infinity*- I’d rather be a Vulcan. Or a droid. Or any other creature not of the sentient sapien-form....anything else other than human. Then I would not love. I would not fear endings of any sort. I would not fear most things. Everything would either be logical and make perfect sense, or I would be oblivious.
Oblivion sounds awfully good. Awful and good at the same time.
I would never give in to tears, because I wouldn't have them. My heart would be impenetrable, unbreakable...

The Okay, So That Was Not the Most Serious Final Thought #Next- This is just sooooo mind numbing and the reason I wish I were a lot smarter...and didn't let my imagination run rampant at the thought of "The dark world might even be as diverse and interesting as the visible world." although there was no mention of the sinister deadly part....

http://www.space.com/21508-dark-matter-atoms-disks.html?cmpid=527257

From now on, whatever goes wrong in my life, whatever mistakes I may make I am going to blame it on (the invisible) DARK MATTER, no matter what!

Mindless Meandering #5- Wouldn't it be nice if you could rewind your life? To replay a certain event or happy moment (sure you can do so in your head as a memory, but I mean for real.)
Of course, that would just be trying to resurrect the past. Clinging to moments that are dead and gone. Zombifiying a lost happiness, and it is a well known fact zombifying anything never turns out good.
This makes me think about destiny. Is everything predestined or do we create it. Is the future a blank slate or is it already there just waiting for us to catch up to it. If so, do you get an eraser, can you edit the future?
If time travel were a possibility, if you were able to alter the past, would you also be altering the future? If you could travel back, wouldn't that mean there is a future already there? At least your future. But, are certain things predestined and cannot be changed no matter what you do?
I guess we assume the future is always there cause it is later, tomorrow, next year and so on. But, is it guaranteed to be there? Not on an individual basis, because it may not be there for someone personally, say, if they died.
Anyway, there are things I would change in my past if I could, but only if I knew what the outcome would be if those changes were made, because there are things I would not want to change as well. If you alter one you may alter the other. Guess I am not a gambler. I want to know the odds....but at the same time my curiosity kicks in, which is a difficult thing for me to control. It would be interesting to find out.
It is all speculation, though. Ifs. If the dog hadn't stopped to poop he would have caught the rabbit.<(my gramps saying.) Choices we made, bad or good, are our past. Choices are all we have. Choices we make today may affect our future. But, not if it is already there????

Mindless Meandering #3,260,000,000 (yes, I have a lot of them, too many to post and some are just way too embarrassingly inane)- If cremation (as opposed to creamation, which would be ending in a blender rather than flame) is made mandatary, there will be less
fear of any walking dead.
Perhaps, maybe, fear of dust in the wind dead (as in the ashes to ashes, stuff to dust), which would not be good to inhale, I suppose, because it may or may not cause zombyism....zombism....turning zombie. Zombifiedism.
But I’m not sure. About a lot of things.
Guess, since 99% of the people of Japan are cremated, it would be a safe place to go in case of a zombie outbreak. Depending on the type of zombie, of course.
Although, there is (especially with the radiation) a greater chance of Kaiju.
Maybe the Kaiju can fight the zombies....<*picturing this in my head*

Mindless Meandering #3,260,000,000 addendumb- It was not nice to say that about the radiation problems in Japan since the tsunami. IMHO they are a brave and noble people...and attractive, as well. Very intelligent and extremely creative (if a little uber over-the-top in strangeness.)
I like them very much.

Personal Observation #who cares, it’s not part of the blog title- My stomach has been making noise all morning. Sorta like the sound the Predator made. I know it is trying to tell me something, but I don’t speak Gastroese.
Maybe it’s really a symbiote and not my stomach at all!!!!! :o
Just so it’s not a chestburster who relocated....

Figments

5/20/2013

Not so long ago, I became aware of the Holographic Universe theory.
Of course it is with these theories that I wish I were smarter, but you work with what you’ve been given the best you can.
From what I have gotten from reading of it is, we, and all that we know of, are simply 3 dimensional projected images from the edge of the known universe (I guess by a projectionist or projection device or aliens or God or Godlien(s), who knows? [and I did not mean that offensively towards any religious beliefs]) of what in reality are actually 2 dimensional.
Hmmm, does that make us like paper dolls, or old school toons?
And what then of our 3D films? 2Ds creating 3D? Are they like, super 3D then? Are special lens built into our retinas just to be able to see ourselves and everything around us in 3D?
A gazillion questions.
I wish it were explained in laymen’s terms, because if not, I have to form my own theories which I do anyway, laymen’s terms given or not.
I think it had some relationship to the string theory as well, and of
some physicist building precise clocks to prove his theory, but I could be wrong.
Which I usually am. At least sometimes. Well, perhaps most times. In the least, many (black) holes in my theories.
Maybe we are simply figments of something else’s imagination?
Anyway, I will have to look into this more deeply so I can be even more confused about life, who we are, why we are, do we have a purpose, where are we headed (before death, after death, the future of us) and so much more.

Footwhere?

4/27/2013

always check the lost and found. if they are not there then perhaps someone else is living in them. or pretending to.
they come in pairs but everyone doesn’t always need two.
they could be outside the door, under the bed, still in the closet or a host of other places.
they come in various sizes and designs for all occasions.
when shod, we are wearing shoes. when shoddy we are not at our best.
cowboys die with theirs on.
they can symbolize wealth.
wearing them in doors or showing the bottoms of them when seated can be held offensive to some and a sign of disrespect.
they are generally not worn to bed unless one must make a quick get away.
they can be organic or synthetic.
if we never learned to walk upright we may never have needed them.
some still don’t need or want them (me).
while they protect us from stepping on or in something harmful or distasteful to us, they, in the same respect, keep us from our connection to our home and it’s energy.
in the end they are only shoes...

or are they?

They Cloud My Mind

4/24/2013

I learned some of what I know of clouds in cloud class at school, but the rest is intense personal research and observations I have made over the past several hours, er, I mean months. This is all quite technical in terminology, but I believe I have expressed it simply enough that even laymen can understand it, and appreciate how special clouds really are.

To begin with, there are several thousand types of clouds but I will discuss (briefly, so as not to bore) only a few of the most important and intriguing ones, as they constantly intermingle, mate and have smaller offspring.

First are the Cumulus, which, as it so denotes, ac’cumul’ates bacteria laden water droplets, later to be released over an unknowing populous (this was new information brought to my attention by the esteemed Professor Extreme! renown and highly acclaimed scientist, and one of Tesla's best...brahs...or is that bronies....no, not that, at least I don't think so, it's definitely bras...er...bros...pals, yes PALS, now residing at the prestigious Divergent Worlds Machine, here to wit, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera, so on and so forth.) There are also the Altocumulus, relatives of the Cumulus who love to hum but, unfortunately, it is inaudible to the human ear.
And, to complete the family are the Cirrocumulus which tend to breed with higher up clouds (in an attempt to climb the cloudorporate ladder) and give birth to nimbus.

Next are Circularnimbus, which are, of course, athletic and nimble round clouds.

Then there are the Homunculus clouds which look like little people, but sometimes transform into other things and are merely for our entertainment and have no viable reason for being in the sky other than that.

Cirrius clouds are very solemn and sometimes pensive. They are the intellectuals of the cloud world. (And it is a little know fact that they were named after Harry Potter’s Godfather, they just spell it differently in the UK.)

Next we have Insidiousnimbus. They are grumpy, angry clouds. You can recognize them by their glaring red eyes, sometimes mistaken for flashing aeroplane lights.

Last but not least, and the most important of all cloud formations, are the Incontinenttus, which are commonly known as rain clouds.
(And as an afternote, there are also the Nimbostratus, which dance across the sky trying to see how low they can go.)

Below are a few photographs I have taken of the different cloud formations. Clouds can be very illusive and must be approached with much care and respect.

An example of bacteria laden Cumulus

A very rare shot of an adult Circularnimbus just having given birth; the babe, still feebly trying to form it's circular shape

Homunculus

Cirrius, seriously.

Insidiousnimbus
(I risked life, limb and chance of electrocution for this shot!)

Incontinenttus

Nimbostratus

This concludes my study of clouds.

Cloud Atlas Adds First New “Species” in Almost 70 Years

The Beginning

4/22/2013

(This is the basis for a character I created and was carried on in an RP at the DWM website listed here under 'universe')

Even from behind closed eyes, I could sense the light.
The unknown shadows had fled.
At least, I so hoped.
Squeezing my lids tightly,
I was uncertain of whether to open them
or not.
Unsure of what lay beyond
and then there was a voice-
"How are you feeling this morning?" it inquired.
My curiosity got the better of me and
as I opened, the light entered,
streaming through my entire being.
When thoroughly adjusted, I saw, standing before me
in the stark sterile room,
a woman dressed all in white.
She smiled at me as she sat a tray containing a steaming pot, cup with saucer, and some delicate little sandwiches
on the stand next to the bed I realized I was lying in.
"Now," she began, "do you know where you are?"
I looked about the room, it somehow looked familiar.
All I could manage was "hospital?"
"Yes," she replied, then added "do you have a name?"
I thought for a moment. Name? What is my name?
I shook my head from side to side.
No name came to me.
Nothing registered.
I could read in her eyes there was compassion.
"Don''t worry," she said, "the doctor will be here shortly and explain everything.
Now eat something. You need to build up your strength."
And she left the room.

I reached over and took a small sandwich from the tray.
Cream cheese and cucumber.
It tasted fresh, and cool, and reassuring for some strange reason.
Famished, I relished it''s texture, the mix of flavors it presented to my tongue.
I wiped my lips on a napkin from the tray.
Reaching, I lifted the cup from the saucer and shakily added some cream to the tea which the woman, obviously now recognized as a nurse, had poured before leaving.
My left hand trembled as I did so, thus grasping with the other I used both to cradle the cup so as not to spill the warm, comforting brew upon myself and the bed.
As I finished, the door opened and the doctor entered.
Again a smile, but a seriousness lay behind it.
"We've listed you as one Therese de Bertole" he said holding up a tattered old book, the cover barely holding it together.
"You were carrying this" signifying said book "along with these."
He held aloft what appeared to be a raggedy old doll, and a small tin of watercolours, then laid them beside me on the bed.
"Do you recognize them?" he asked.
I picked up the doll. Not a doll, a puppet. "Puipéid" I mutter, making the little figure dance across the bedding, a little fantoccini, a poppet. It brought a smile to my lips and a tug at my heart.
My interest turned to the other articles.
I ran my fingers across the tin and gently touched the book, wondering what it would tas.....
Snapping back into reality, I again shook my head no in response to his query.
It was all gone. All that I was.
The doctor''s forehead wrinkled with worry but his words were
"Don''t fret, it will all come back to you in time."
Then an explanation.
"You were brought to us by a young lad who found you wandering in a nearby forest.
You frightened him at first. He thought you a ghost or will-o’- the-wisp, you were so pale.
Does any of this ring a bell?"
"No" I said.
"It will return. These things take time" he replied as he patted my shoulder then turned and left the room.
My mind raced.
Who am I? What had happened that caused me to lose all recollection of self?
I remembered....nothing.
The question,
did I really want to?

Fleeting memories came
and were gone
just as swiftly.
Running.
Always running.
But, was it away
or towards?
I could not recall
no matter how hard,
I tried.

It had been weeks,
or so I thought.
I was beginning to feel stronger.
At least physically.
My memories now,
if any,
were flashes of a confusing
repertoire.
Music within my head.
Tunes without lyrics.
Haunting melodies
I could not re-collect.
Faces,
places,
hazed over
with smoke and mirrors.

I knew I would have to leave the hospita(b) l (e)
eventually.
Go out into the world on my own.
Face whatever was out there.
Fearful of the unknown.
Alone.

As the days grew shorter
and nearer my departure
from one world,
to enter another,
the dread of leaving
this haven of safety
became nearly unbearable.
I trembled with trepidation
or was it rapture?
Having no set path,
no star to guide in the darkness,
not an inkling of what lay beyond
these construct walls
both within and without,
I must add venture to the uncharted.
I seek
what is hidden from me.

I count each day
as I lay deep in thought.
Three days.
A trinity of significance
known only to myself.

A hand,
my own,
instinctively takes
the tattered puppet
from beneath my pillow.
In doing so,
I swore I heard it whir
softly.
But that was impossible
it is a mere toy
a plaything.
It was surely an insect
buzzing a secret
in my ear.
A withheld truth.
Whispering
foretelling my future.

Sheer terror
of dreams
awake.
Omens.
Plague unleashed,
Pestilence unbridled,
arouse me
from this slumber
to sleep once more.
I close my mind’s eye
until a single day
has passed.
Past.

Hickroy Dickory
the clock works
away the hours.
A grey sky
blending black with white
as night’s shade
is rolled aback
once again
for it was dawning
on the mo(u)rning
of my forever after.

No more could I
nor should I
remain.

Yet I did.

Trinity passed,
the sentence postponed
a reprieve given.
An allowance
and offer was presented,
I could remain
if so I wished.
A decision required.

　

Lagniappe-
Softly lips brush
the surface
barely touching.
Just a whisper
heard
as they part.
One final embrace. as
I take my thoughts,
feelings
place them in an
impenetrable casket
bury it so
deep within my being
as to never escape again.

None enter
nothing leaves.

A dirge plays within
I thank the piper
then pay him
his due.

I Wish....

4/21/2013

I wish pigs could fly,
I wish hell would freeze over (I know, I know, Dante's 9th circle already is)
I wish every girl and boy in the entire world would have a fluffy kitten to love (or perhaps a puppy or bunny),
I wish this would be your colour,
your colour I wish,
I wish I could breath under water,
I wish I could fly,
I wish I were gifted enough to attend Professor Xavier's school for gifted youngsters
or at least magical enough to go to Hogwarts,
I wish I had opposable big toes so I could type with my hands AND feet,
I wish the moon was made of cheese and I was a moonite,
I wish we never had to wear clothes...
or shoes...
maybe only hats
and perhaps gloves,
I wish I could talk to the animals, learn their languages, chat with a chimp in chimpanzee,
I wish I had a holodeck,
I wish I could quantum leap,
I wish I knew my times tables,
I wish gumdrops grew on trees, with rivers of chocolate and mountains made of marshmallow and everyone was made of gingerbread so those I did not like I could eat,
I wish I was not allergic to chocolate.
I wish I had mental telepathy,
I wish I could snap my fingers and be invisible,
I wish I had a hoverboard, and a spaceship so I could fly above the traffic,
or maybe a bulldozer/steamroller/forklift so I could just push/lift them (traffic) out of my way or drive over them,
I wish I could shoot death-rays from my eyes,
maybe not "death"-rays but just excruciatingly painful-rays,
and lightening bolts from my arse....well, actually that sounds pretty painful so perhaps just the death-rays,
I wish I was a neutron bomb, for once I could go off
I wish I was a sacrifice but somehow still lived on
I wish I was a sentimental ornament you hung on
the christmas tree, I wish I was the star that went on top
I wish I was the evidence, I wish I was the grounds
for 50 million hands upraised and open toward the sky
I wish I was a sailor with someone who waited for me
I wish I was as fortunate, as fortunate as me
I wish I was a messenger and all the news was good
I wish I was the full moon shining off a camaro's hood
I wish I was an alien at home behind the sun
I wish I was the souvenir you kept your house key on
I wish I was the pedal brake that you depended on
I wish I was the verb 'to trust' and never let you down
I wish I was a radio song, the one that you turned up
I wish...
I wish...
I wish you were here instead of there...
I wish I were there instead of here...
I wish...
I wish...I wish...

(wishes 21 through 33 are actually Eddie Vedder's wishes, all the others are mine except perhaps for lines 4 and 5 which are my and Blixa Bargelds wishes.)

Time Travel Tips

4/18/2013

#1- Never travel with scissors or any other dangerous pointed object.

#2-Always wear clean underwear, and carry a spare (in case of an accident. Not the kind where you can’t control your bladder/bowels [although that too], but just incase you have to go to hospital if #1 was disregarded.)

#3-If your means of travel is via a quantum matter teleportation unit (or some such thingy), always make sure there are no flies (or anything else for that matter or antimatter) in the chamber with you. Disaster could result, or improvement for some people. That would negate #2, because it would be best to travel naked.)

#4-Do not form any personal relationships with those you meet, ever! (See #5, it is also a good habit to form in general.)

#5-Do not have sex with anyone under any circumstance, for obvious reasons (i.e. STDs for one, very prevalent in the past, still are and may be in the future, too. At least up until the point when we all become a single gender. Also, you could become your own grandparent etc. etc.)

#6-Do not wear deodorant, cologne or the like when traveling between 2.4 million years ago, give or take a few millennia, and 1887 Anno Domini. People will be suspicious if you smell nice and could also draw the attention of animals/dinos/first humans etc., which may eat you.

#7-Make sure you have had all of your inoculations before hand, and carry a first aide kit which includes military food rations. (Disregard if #3 is your means of travel.)

#8-Never accept candy from a stranger (which would or should be just about everyone) or enter his/her/it’s van/carriage/ship/covered wagon etc. on the ploy they have puppies or kittens in there.
(Awww, puppies and kittens you say? How can one resist that!)

#9-Never step on, touch, lick, spit on, feel, vomit (in case time travel does not agree with you...just swallow it back down...I know...eww, but what if you vomited into the original gene pool of life itself, the primeval ooze, what then huh...answer me that? No, don’t, I don’t want to know,) sneeze, cough, expel anything i.e. urinate or the other (especially not in the aforemention pool) or breathe (that includes inhalation as well as exhalation).

#12-Now this is the most important of all, if visiting the same time period of your own existence, NEVER, NEVER try to seek out yourself. Everyone knows that causes some sort of paradox, and paradoxes are NEVER a good thing!

Did I mention NEVER?

There are probably more.,,,

12 Camping Survival Tips (but there are many, many more)

4/16/2013

1. Never ever go into the woods alone for any reason whatsoever!

2. Always use the buddy system...unless, of course, your buddy wandered into the woods (forest, pines, timberland, sticks...you get the idea) alone and returns acting strange and unfamiliar (see Tip #1)

3. Beware of strangers, especially ones that say things like "I'm gonna make you squeal like a pig. Weeeeeeee!" and those who are toothless, near toothless and/or wear dirty overalls or suspenders with a belt and/or has a fetus fetish (which may or may not be a majority of people) and anyone carrying an axe or very large knife unless they have some viable reason for doing so i.e. just returned from butchering a pig...weeeeee!

4. If you hear ominous music coming from no apparent source, find a safe place to hide, preferably one you will not get stuck or cornered in.

5. Avoid pet cemeteries or unusual pumpkin patches

6. Refrain from staying at campgrounds and/or resorts that might be called Lake Placid, Crystal Lake and Camp Arawak as well as the states Texas and Georgia. There may be more as well. In fact, I hear New Jersey is very weird with all it’s midget, satan worshipping, albinos and hellmouths.

7. Do not touch any wildlife (neither flora nor fauna) you may encounter. Poison. Poison. Poison. Nuff said.

8. Lights in the sky that move rapidly and erratic are not stars. Do not wish on them. If they approach, avoid first contact unless you enjoy anal probes and the like.

9. Also, if a meteor should land in the nearby woods or farm DO NOT INVESTIGATE IT and, if a large (perhaps gigantic depending on what, who or whom it has ingested or osmosisized <(yes, I made that word up) pink (colour can be questionable as I am only familiar with the pink variety) bubble-gum like globule slowly undulates towards you, RUN! (In the opposite direction, of course, duh! Fortunately, as with most zombies, mummies, amorphous blobs etc., some unlikeables move very, very slowly.)

10. Always carry garlic, a cross (or other religious item...I am not totally sure if the Star of David or the Hand of Fatima or such works, or if it is only Christian relics...this has perplexed me many times) holy water (preferably in a squirtable device...a super soaker would be excellent), silver bullets, salt, fire (most things, like zombies and frankenstein's monster, are afraid of fire, in fact set the forest on fire to be on the safe side...no, only joking, remember what Smokey the Bear says..."Only you can prevent forest fires".)

11. Bigfoot is your friend regardless of what you may or may not have seen or heard. Embrace him and make him feel welcome. If he seems a tad irate just tell him you know his friend Harry and to please not rip you limb from limb. I’m am sure he will be understanding and hugs are then in order (if your arms are still attached.)
Oh, and whatever you do, don't call him 'squatch'. He hates that. They like to be called Sir or Mister Bigfoot, sir (or Madam, obviously, depending on gender.) It is greatly advised that you do so.

12. And last but not least, avoid mayonnaise.

-Just in passing, it may be wise not to sleep or make too much noise. Actually, it would be best to just sit quietly around a campfire and softly sing Kumbaya while eating Smores...here are the lyrics, you can just sort of improvise the tune:

Kumbaya my Lord (or the diety of your choice), kumbaya
Kumbaya my Lord (or the diety of your choice) , kumbaya
Kumbaya my Lord (or the diety of your choice) , kumbaya
Oh Lord (or the diety of your choice), kumbaya

Someone's singing Lord (or the diety of your choice), kumbaya
Someone's singing Lord (or the diety of your choice), kumbaya
Someone's singing Lord (or the diety of your choice), kumbaya
(Note- Shhhh...sing quietly so as not to attract unwanted things)
Oh Lord (or the diety of your choice), kumbaya

Someone's laughing, Lord (or the diety of your choice), kumbaya
Someone's laughing, Lord (or the diety of your choice), kumbaya
Someone's laughing, Lord (or the diety of your choice), kumbaya
(Note- camping is not a laughing matter. It is extremely
serious. He who laughs last may be the only one left alive.)
Oh Lord (or the diety of your choice), kumbaya

Someone's crying, Lord (or the diety of your choice), kumbaya
Someone's crying, Lord (or the diety of your choice), kumbaya
Someone's crying, Lord (or the diety of your choice), kumbaya
(Note- possibly the only one left alive.)
Oh Lord (or the diety of your choice) , kumbaya

Someone's praying, Lord (or the diety of your choice), kumbaya
Someone's praying, Lord (or the diety of your choice) , kumbaya
Someone's praying, Lord (or the diety of your choice), kumbaya
(Note- the one left alive praying he/she makes it until sun up.)
Oh Lord , (or the diety of your choice) kumbaya

Someone's sleeping, Lord (or the diety of your choice), kumbaya
Someone's sleeping, Lord (or the diety of your choice) , kumbaya
Someone's sleeping, Lord (or the diety of your choice), kumbaya
(Note- let’s face it, they are not "sleeping" per se
apparently he/she did not make it until morning.)
Oh Lord (or the diety of your choice), kumbaya
Oh Lordy, Lord! (or the diety of your choice), kum...ba...ya!!!!!

(PS- Kumbaya means "Save me Jesus [or the diety of your choice] Save me!!!!)

PSS- Do not sing the words located in the brackets, you must insert what or whomever you worship or revere...you could even use Spiderman or the like.
Also do not sing the bracketed "Notes-". These are just comments by me and not, in reality, part of the traditional song. I am just adding my two cents worth.

Some explanations....

4/16/2013

I feel the need to explain a few things concerning my "12 Camping Survival Tips".

First of all, Smores.
It is important to know what "Smore" or in the plural "Smores" represents. I assume the general populace just assumes it is a camping treat and is short for "can I have somemore, please" (notice the politeness, this is not only a girl/boy scout trait and credo, but should be used by everyone and not just the Japanese, who, in my opinion are the epitome of politeness...except during wars but that is another matter altogether because lets face it, war is war and there is nothing polite about it. You would think after the years and years of conflict amongst peoples we would have learned that war is not a good thing, but this is not one of my rants about humankind and it's many, many faults, nay, this is about Smores.)

Now where was I...oh yes, the true meaning of Smores.
Actually it should be S.M.O.R.E. (and 's' if it is pluralized) which is short for Scare Monsters Off (&) Repel Evil. Adding the 's' makes it much more powerful. This is why it is so important to have these on camping trips where everyone knows monsters (both the human and inhuman kind) and evil abound.

So, in conclusion, always have S.M.O.R.E.s while at camp and singing Kumbaya will enhance it's protective properties.

Now, on to 12 Avoiding Mayonnaise. I'd like to tell you a little story about this.
Once upon a time (as all good stories go) there lived a young girl named May O'Nnaise. She may or may not have been of Irish or perhaps French descent (not in the deodorizing sense of descent but in the lineage sense, or perhaps a little of both, but I digress). She met a young man name Sal Monella, he being of possible Italian or Spanish blood, and they fell in love. Sort of condiment/microorgasmic-crossed lovers (I know, I know, that sounds slightly perverse.) Anyhow, the O'Nnaises and the Monellas did not get along. They were a feudin' bunch, most likely from some southern state where the climate is always hot and sticky and family members only marry family members (our beloved southern members of the DWM excluded, of course).
Well, when old Pa O'Nnaise found out about May's romance he was infuriated and swore an oath to make Sal pay. He made May sit out in the hot sun waiting for Sal to come to her rescue while he waited inside with a shotgun poised and ready....
I guess I need not tell the ending, just the fact that when May O'Nnaise is left out in the hot sun for any amount of time, Sal Monella will always appear (in a ghostly and invisible to the naked or clad eye way) and sickness and/or worse is bound to occur to anyone foolhardy enough to allow this to happen.

The end.

I believe that has been enough ‘splainin for today.

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