daily scratchpad

(8)

As you might have guessed, it seemed to me that in view of recent developments it might not be inappropriate to call God on the Brown Telephone. I was obviously not about to die in the near future of colon cancer or stomach cancer. Would God have any comments on the subject? Would it be presumptive of me to brag to God concerning my apparent odds of living another ten years or so? I decided to give God a call. And remember that I am not above 'contempt as emotion!'

Not at all. I picked up the Brown Telephone and dialed 666:

gd: Hello?
me: It's me. Have You been following my recent excretory history?
gd: Is The Pope Catholic?
me: I thought so. Then You know the good news that I am not scheduled to die of colon cancer or stomach cancer in the near future.
gd: Apparently not. What is your point?
me: Just checking.
gd: Are you suggesting that I am interested in the grosser aspects of my beloved creations?
me: Not exactly. I only suggest that You might be interested in my bowel movements, not to mention my bladder contractions.
gd: I Am. You know I Am. As we both well know you have cultural excretory problems.
me: Celestial urinary problems?
gd: No such thing.
me Celestial doo-doo problems?
gd: Don't be silly. What is the purpose of this call? Do not call me again until you have new news of Jesus.
me: Do you follow Jesus' potty adventures?
gd: (hangs up)

(7)

And I could go on and on about the preparations the day before the procedures. Suffice it to say that I spent a lot of time on the potty, and as a result I finished the chapter, 'Why there is almost certainly no God' (The God Delusion). For your information the chapter was devoted almost exclusively to Acquinas' (Aristotle's?) 'Argument From Design.' The argument goes as follows:

'The universe is so gloriously complex that it could not have arisen by chance. Therefore it must have had a Master Designer. We call that Master Designer, God.'

The rebuttal to that argument is that it only pushes the argument back one step: 'Then who designed God? Another God? If so, then who designed that God, and so on. The 'argument,' such as it is, involves an infinite regress, which is to say that it solves nothing: the argument is logically baseless. I would say furthermore that the argument is emotionally baseless: once it is clear that the 'designer of the universe' needs to have been Itself (Himself - Herself) designed by a preexisting enty the emotional brain freezes: 'Which God shall I then worship? Exactly which Celestial Ass should I be kissing?'

(6)

Demerol is a downer. Demerol has no redeeming euphoric value whatsoever. None. As such, Demerol is well suited as the Judeo-Christian sedative drug of choice. Demerol is Morphine circumcised. You do not want to do Demerol if you can possibly avoid it. Stay away from Demerol. Insist on Morphine, if you can. Even booze is preferable to Demerol. Demerol sucks.

And not that I have ever done Morphine that I know of. In fact I would never do it unless the medical situation suggested it. Morphine is (stomp) not a 'recreational drug' but it seems to me that if you are in a very bad situation you should not be denied a little bit of recreation. Given the choice, insist on Morphine. Fuck the Judeo-Christian establishment and their pathetic Demerol.

The UE went quickly, consuming about five minutes or so. I saw none of it but Kootch was there, looking at it for me. I later asked her what it looked like and she replied that it sort of resembled a colon until the first valve, which opened and closed. Then there was total pink until the second valve, which again opened and closed. I would have loved to have seen it for myself.

Note to Doctor Bill: Your bedside manner sucks. You are fired.

(5)

Monday's appointment began with the new nurse (Evelyn was gone) saying that Kootch would not be allowed to view the procedures. Not acceptable. I said to her, 'I insist.' She allowed that 'If the doctor has no objection (tap) neither do I.' The doctor had no objection and Kootch was allowed to view the procedures (otherwise there would have been no 'procedures.' I trust Kaiser physicians about as far as I can shit horizontally, which is not very far: Recall the Jewish Bitch Deborah Presken.)

But it (boom) seemed to me that they were rushing me. I wanted to view both of the procedures on their video screens (the nurse said, when I (tap) used the phrase, 'video screens,' 'We do not take videos of these proceedings.' It struck me at the time that she was 'protesting too (boom) much.' But I am paranoid, as you know.) I had been allowed to view all previous colonoscopys and I found them fascinating, and I was especially interested in viewing the upper endoscopy: I wanted to see the actual situation in a stomach which had been warning me painfully for many years. I wanted to know the inner truth. But that truth was denied to me.

Just as it became clear to me that they intended to do the upper endoscopy out of my viewing range Doctor Bill said, 'Open.' I opened my mouth and he sprayed something down my throat (tap) and told me to swallow. At the same time I began to feel dizzy. The procedure had begun. I had not been warned.

As my throat became numb from the spray I suspected I was being drugged through the IV in my right hand. I asked Doctor Bill what they were using. He replied (I think), 'Demerol.'

(4)

The big news for me this week (tap) was another colonoscopy plus an upper endoscopy. Kaiser had bugged me to do the colonoscopy in a registered letter, warning that I faced 'serious health problems' if I failed to do so. But I put it off for a year or so in view of a more immediate concern (my DVT (boom) and the blood thinner regimen: I wanted to get to a stable state before introducing complications: I am the boss because I am the patient. It is my way or the hi-way.)

But I am such a nice guy. That is my problem.

So when I finally went for the procedure last Monday at 1330 I protested too little. My appointment was with my favorite Gastro-Enterologist, Doctor Bill. He had discovered my colon cancer (tap) back in 1999 and had advised me even before the bioposy that, 'This is cancer. I know it.' So did I. Doctor Bill (unfortunately I did not get permission to use his real name (thump)) eventually did two other colonoscopys, snipping out at least a handful of 'polyps' which might eventually have become cancerous. He was good. Real good.)

But at the time I saw no need to rush the operation: 'It's been there for years. Can't you give me a week or two to adjust to the reality? No?'

No. Kaiser insisted, and they ressected the tumor the next day. I became known locally as 'the splenic flexure.' It was literally terrifying to be totally at the mercy of (small stomp above me) other people. But it worked, and I survived, and Monday Doctor Bill pronounced me 'cured.' I knew it too, of course. But the honeymoon ended there.

(3)

The new occupant(s) moved in 2-10-07, a Saturday, under cover of darkness. There is at least one of them, a male 20-35. But meanwhile nothing has changed: whether there (tap) were 'occupants above' or not, the daily and nightly routine remained the same. That is to say, the same people who harrassed me (tap) before the previous occupants moved out, did not move out. Nothing has changed. There was only the appearance of change. Time for the news. I'll publish this now.

(2)

Is it possible that I am becoming too influential for Jewish comfort? Hmm.

Regarding last week's rant I am curious concerning how most Jews would rate it in terms of its 'Antis(tap)emitic content.' I imagine that the average Jew would be horrified, having become used to the idea that, in America Jews have been beyond criticism since WWII. (But, 'the times, they are a-changin'. Check your dick.)

As to the motivation (tap) for that spectacular rant, I credit Judeo-faggot ElectroMagnetic Radiation (EMR) from the uninhabited (and uninhabitable) apartment downstairs. I think the antennas are mounted in the ceiling. Nobody would live there under the conditions I endure. Not even here (boom)! But for me it is a matter of living here or being homeless.

Speaking of which, Thursday night seems to have become the most agonizing night, and certainly accounts for the anger apparent in last Friday's blog posts. Last night was no exception: out of ten hours and fifteen minutes spent in bed last night I got about four hours sleep, the rest having been spent enduring the torture of EMR. All the while, the demented inhabitant above me would tap every time I moved my leg(tap)s. (Moving my feet out of the current EMR field affords a temporary relief from the tingling, stinging, muscle-twitching, but they apparently have the means of repositioning the radiating antenna.)

I don't know how they 'image me' but clearly they can: when I move, they tap. I suspect infra-red, but it could be something else.

(1)

Baghdad Burning. Don't fail to read the summary at the end. I saw this woman on american tv. She has beautiful eyes. (The system crashed, apparently due to Windows Media Player, but I am not sure yet. This seems ominous given that C-III has been acting strangely recently. We shall see... In view of these events I will publish this now as is. If I don't return tonight it will be due to 'technical problems.')

(4)

There are those who think that The Magic of Democracy can still take hold in Iraq. They do not understand the situation. Iraq is Northern Ireland raised to the third power. Only one thing will quell the tribal/sectarian/etc problems in Iraq: money: the rest of the world must buy Iraq. Literally. But can we afford it?

Here is what I mean: we must make this life more attractive to Iraqis than the next life. There are two ways to do that.
1. We need to bring Iraqi employment up to 90 percent or more.
2. We need to ridicule Muslim religion to the point that few Iraqis will take it seriously. And not that we need to prohibit circumcision! Not just yet. Not at all, in fact. But we need to enforce a scientific attitude in Iraqi citizens to the point that they will begin to doubt that Jewish sexual mutilation is pleasing to God. We need to make it clear to the average Iraqi citizen that circumcision equals desensitation equals sexual numbness, and that furthermore orgasm is equated with cultural stability: more orgasms, more cultural stability. We should begin an orgasm offensive in Iraq as soon as possible. That is to say that we should use our current military assets in Iraq to produce as many Iraqi orgasms as possible.

Bottom line is we need to introduce Just My Size panties to both Iraqi women and Iraqi men. You laugh.

But I am serious: economic certainty and sexual certainty are the two primary certainties. Metaphysical certainties lag far behind. Lacking the two primary certainties normal people tend to fall back on the more dubious certainties including religious certainty. We must avoid this in Iraq.

Saddam provided political certainty. That is not an option for us, or for the Iraqis nowadays. Iraqi political certainty has come and gone. Iraqis need to learn how to live in a new world of political uncertainty based on mutual respect and national awareness.

(3)

The Jews knew the nature of the political landscape even before Bush was elected. American Jews are preeminent in national politics. They knew the nature of this naive Christian 'born again' Texas politician. They knew they had a Friend of Israel in George W Bush, and a Friend of Israel is a friend of American Jews.

Nowadays we call them 'Neocons.' (Neo=new; con=conservative. Jews are traditionally liberal democrats, but Bush apparently tempted large numbers of them with his Christian naivete. They saw an opportunity to commit America irrevocably to the Israeli cause, especially after 9-11. They voted Bush. And in fact that election was the ultimate sweet spot for American Jewry: On the right was a really dumbass Christian fundamentalist who could be endlessly manipulated, while on the left was a classic liberal who could be influenced to choose a Jew as VP in hopes of winning the substantial 'Jewish vote.' It was a win-win situation for American Jews and for Israel: are you an Antisemite? vote Bush. Love Israel? vote Gore.

The result is obvious nowadays: America is virtually alone in a war with Islam itself.

Bad idea.

(2)

It should be mentioned, of course, that we broke it under the direction of George W Bush, C- student. (Harvard, was it? One wonders how much influence a rich father has on his son's grades at Harvard. Can you be a total fucking idiot and still get a passing grade at Harvard because your daddy is a rich ex-president? One wonders.)

So anyway, Bush needed to let the real culprit in the 9-11 tragedy escape: if Osama had been caught or killed at Tora Bora there would have been much less support for invading Iraq. So Osama was allowed to escape. Bush wanted Saddam, not Osama. Why?

It was a family matter (thump). Furthermore it was a Texas matter. 'Don't mess with Texas' is a familiar saying. Texan politicians are likely to be truculent. Remember Johnson? He invaded Vietnam in a similar situation. America has suffered immensely from that Truculent Texan Tendency. In Bush's case we see not only Texas Truculence but Oedipal Imperitive. And the idiot Bush no doubt never even heard of Oedipus (being gassed here).

And don't forget that 'war presidents' are never defeated. Bush needed another war to be sure of being reelected in case Afghanistan collapsed totally - another Oedipal connection: he would do anything to avoid a family repeat of his daddy's failure. Anything. History would not record that that the Bush Family had had two consecutive one term presidents. No fucking way.

And don't forget that Saddam had tried to kill his daddy. So it was personal. The Iraq war was a personal family matter so long as Bush was concerned. But there was much more to it: The Jews.

(1)

Well, that was fun but some of it may not have made a lot of sense. Not a good sign when your reaction to something you yourself wrote is, 'Huh?!' The recipe was ok. I should mention that I cook this in a covered casserole dish to prevent evaporation. Kootch ate all the watermellon.

Peering into the Pillars of Creation. The 16 second video places the pillars inside M-16 (The Eagle Nebula) and adds x-ray sources. You might remember 'the pillars' as the astonishing cosmic phallus symbols from Hubble some years ago. Curious about the Chandra x-ray observatory I brought up the 2006 images and found this amazing representation of The Cartwheel Galaxy. Can you figure out which of the small galaxies in the lower left was the probable culprit in the formation of the Cartwheel?

Today the House voted to rebuke the prez's most recent attempt to deny the undeniable. It is an interesting situation. Recall that 'Dubya' made the decision to spend the political capital from 9-11 - the immense political capital - on Iraq instead of Afghanistan. We were all with him on Afghanistan. Even most of the rest of the world including many Muslim Nations were with him, and us.

But unfortunately Afghanistan had no proven oil reserves, and the prez chose to expend that political capital on Iraq which did have such oil reserves. Afghanistan went begging, along with Pakistan. We focused on Saddam Hussein and Iraq in the most spectactular sleight-of-hand political play in all of history. The result was that we destroyed the very government that was best for the pathetic 'Iraqi people.' It was the very government they needed and deserved. And we broke it. We fuckin' broke it!

(5)

But not yet! Tonight's recipe:

White rice.
Chopped green onions.
Pork ribs smeared with garlic, salt and pepper.

Bake ribs at 325 until just done. Douse with soy sauce (very important). Cook five more minutes. Remove from oven.

Serve one rib per consumant. 'Juice' from the pork/soy sauce product should be poured discretely over the rice. Chopped green onions should be sprinkled over that.

Boy, they good!

(4)

But it seems to me that love - the mystery of love - is mysterious because of complexity. There is apparently an infinite spectrum of 'love' in the same sense that the electromagnetic spectrum is 'infinite.' There is no practical end to it. Love is in that same sense incomprehensible. Love belongs on a scale somewhere, and you can find it anywhere. You are compelled to accept love as a variable quality to which the 'right brain' is tuned somehow. The left brain is tuned to logic. Love's spectrum is continuous, whereas logic understands discrete units.

Logic is, therefore, not incomprehensible. Logic is understandable because Nature obeys the rule of logic. Nature is 'either-or' except at the quantum level. At that level Nature rolls the dice. But in ordinary everyday matters Nature provides guidance which allows us left brainers to deduce the nature of Nature. And so we arrive at Quantum Mechanics eventually. But that realization seems to invalidate the method by which we arrived.

Welcome to the Philosophy of Science.

My solution to the problem is what I call 'the law of scale:' Beyond a certain scale Nature is ultimately mysterious. Always has been, always will be. It follows that unless there is a compelling reason to explore Nature below a certain 'size,' then why bother?

But I am wrong. The conclusion is wrong.

Viva Science!

I am also drunk. Nighty-night.

(3)

Which brings us to 'lo(boom)ve.' What is 'love?' Love is mysterious.

For example, when I did my shopping at KSS today (I do most of the grocery shopping) I was faced with the problem of how to treat tomorrow, Valentine's Day (tap). Should I buy her flowers? As usual? KSS had a selection based on price. And I am cheap (sorry). You can get some cheap roses at KSS.

But our marriage has not been exactly stellar recently. Roses would be overstatement to the point of being mendatious, an intolerable demonstration. So what to do? I could not ignore Valentine's Day insofar as I had been married to this woman for 49 years. Certainly she would have understood my neglect in that regard given current circumstances, but it seemed to me that 49 years could not be ignored. Ostentation was out of the question, of course. Subtlty was needed.

And here is where the lessons of my (?) paid off: I went with the truth of the moment. As I passed by the fruit section I noticed the pinkness of the fresh cut watermellon wrapped in cellophane. I made the associations: pink, fruit, watermellon, yummy. At that point I knew I had my Valentine's gift. I bought her a section of watermellon wrapped in cellophane. Two dollars max. (I had taken my clue from a previous direction from her to the effect to buy 'something sweet.' On that occasion I had bought her a section of cellophane-wrapped watermellon. She loved it.)

Viola! And it had been some time since she had tasted watermellon! No-brainer!

Suffice it to say that that when she removed the watermellon from the shopping bag she said, delightedly, 'Watermellon!?' I said, 'Valentine gift.'

Labels: love, watermellon

(2)

But after finishing six 3.2 beers I was only warming up. The whiskey was waaay too strong. I needed more 3.2 beer. Kootch was asleep. I decided I was not so drunk that I would pose a danger to my fellow Coloradoans. Therefore I got dressed. Then I woke up Kootch and informed her of my intentions (I never leave the apartment unless Kootch is awake and able to secure the door with the sliding bolt and the chain bolt. She also knows the exact location of the 357). Kootch volunteered to get the beer. I assured her I would be ok. I misled her (tap) (and whomever might be listening) with the implication that I would be going to the booze shop. But my destination was KSS. I wanted 3.2 beer.

The mission was accomplished on schedule with no problem. Kootch was waiting as I approached the door: 'What took you so long?' I explained that I had driven to KSS, not the booze shop (virtually across the street). And it turned out that I had just enough cash to buy an 18-wheeler, which is not only enough for (tap) tonight but friday night too.

So here I am again. I should mention that I wore a pair of JMS grey cotton panties just in case I was busted and had to spend the night in jail. (You do not want to go to jail wearing hot pink panties, even on Valentine's Eve. Not if you are male.)

Did I violate the Social Contract tonight? Maybe. Maybe not.

Labels: drunk driving, the social contract

(1)

Tonight is Tuesday night, making this a possible booze night. And tomorrow is Valentine's Day. But the clin(tap)cher was Kootch announcing this afternoon that she would be late returning with the car tomorrow due to an obligation (tap) to one of her girl friends. You know me: all (boom) I need is an excuse. (stomp) So here (boom) I am again. Before hitting the sack Kootch worried about my booze supply. Only six beers left over from last time. Would I ask her to make another booze run tonight? No? Good. She bid me nighty night and closed the door (thump).

(Mister Tap-Thump-Boom-Stomp above would have you take a dimmer view of the events related above than is warranted (nothing new there). In other words he seeks to 'spin' what I write here (tap) to both you and me. In this case the spin is emotional (most spin is emotional spin. Logic is difficult to spin. In fact, logic - rigorous logic - is impossible to spin. Only the emotional brain can be 'spun.' There is no such thing as 'logical spin.')).

Our exchange was purely business as usual. Kootch did not relish being awakened for a booze run. In any case I had no cash. We sealed the matter.

Labels: spin, valentine's day

(5)

Before continuing I should mention that at about 2300L I am reasonably well toasted. Plenty of beer left, plus a huge cache of whiskey. I am ready to wrap it up (thump) for the night. Chinese bean noodle sphagetti beckons, the allure of which is intensified by the fact that my last meal was about 2300 the previous evening. I am hungry.

I am listening to Mozart Pi(thump)ano Concerto #21 again. This might be my favorite Mozart concerto. I have been playing this concerto recently because I have finally memorized (more or less) Beethoven's piano concerto #1 in spite of being mostly drunk when I heard it. It has taken me at least a year to accomplish that task, drunk as a skunk. But I did it: If you persist you can do unlikely things.

I only mention this because as I was driving home from KSS today (tap) I heard a haunting version of #21 (actually the middle movement - 'Elvira Madigan'). I was totally entranced by the sheer beauty of what I was hearing. I was stunned, in fact that this version was so much more beautiful than the version I had on CD. There was no 3rd movement. KVOD explained why, later. But as I listened to the piece I was struck by the sheer beauty of the music which exceeded anything I had ever heard. I was in awe. The solo was done by a beautiful violin. I thought, 'So sweet! Must be a Strad!' (several stomps above me.)

(Another HUGE noise above me at 0006L. Sounded like somebody dropped a heavy object.)

Only after the piece was over and (thump) the young lady acting as MC advised us that this version was in fact a violin rendition in place of piano did I come to realize that I had heard a new version of Sheer Beauty.

'Of course! What was I thinking!'

Labels: beauty, Beethoven, KVOD, Mozart

(4)

Which brings us to the latest quotation of Thomas Jefferson as quoted in The God Delusion. Jefferson was apparently concerned about his nephew's culturally limited access to the 'truth' of Christian 'history:'

'I forgot to observe, when speaking of the New Testament, that you should read all the histories of Christ, as well as that of those whom a council of ecclesiastics have decided for us, to be psuedo-evangelists. Because these psuedo-evangelists pretended to inspiration, as much as the others, (and?) you are to judge their pretentions by your own reason, and not by the reason of those ecclesiastics.'

Personal Reason is a wonderful thing - but scarey! When you resort to 'personal reason' you risk eternal damnation. Personal Reason is not to be undertaken lightly. All of ancient religion depends on that scarey quality of personal reason. Ancient religion thrives or dies on the phenomenon of modern courage - a courage buttressed and supported by modern science.

There is no higher aspiration than 'personal reason.' Less than that equals 'personal slavery:' Eternal Personal Slavery.

(3)

Well, I could go on and on but you get the idea: Fundamentalist Islam is an ugly mob. So is fundamentalist Christianity. So is Fundamentalist Judaism. In fact, Abrahamic Religion is an ugly mob, perhaps the largest and ugliest of them all (Check your dick: can you skin it back? No? Then check your dog's dick. Compare dicks. Who has the most desirable dick?).

Which brings us to the Google Search for a human penis being skinned back (retracted). I challenge you to find a video which shows a human penis being retracted (skinned back). I am not into male porn, and am not willing to spend much time looking for video of dicks being skinned back, but I am sure you can manage that task if you dare. And should you competent readers come up with nada in the skinback department - should there be absolutely no videos available at all showing human penises being skinned back - then I hereby offer my services in that regard.

But be aware that at my age (72) my penis is somewhat out of practice. The good news is that a penis can be skinned back in any state whatsoever, and I would be willing to illustrate that process in an exclusive video in all possible states (with the assistance of Viagra if necessary, or a suitable yum-yum). (By the way, I recently discovered that it is possible to masturbate to orgasm in the absense of a hardon. Who would have thought...!)

(2)

I'm usually disappointed to see that my drunken alter ego of last week has saddled me with some or other task, and tonight is no exception. Or is it? I like the idea of being 'hired by God as a consultant.' God obviously needs a modern consultant in a modern world, and I am well qualified. The job does not pay well, but what most matters to me is that I enjoy it. And it isn't just that I get to advise God - an ego reward - but that I might be able to make a difference. And God unfortunately neglected to (tap) include a 'non-disclosure clause' in our agreement, which makes it even more interesting. So: I now have an ironclad contract with God to be His Personal Consultant with no strings attached. Lucky you. I will follow up on this thread in due time. Stay tuned.

Then there's the concept of 'mob religion.' I claim that 'mob religion' is a bad idea.

In the first place there is nothing pretty about a mob. Mobs are ugly. One thing which makes mob A uglier than mob B is what I call 'mob purity.' That is to say, 'the purer your mob the uglier.' Pure mobs are uglier than impure mobs. For example, mobs which are segrated by sex are uglier than mobs which are not so segregated. Sexually integrated mobs are less ugly. Sexual diversity tends to beautify a mob. This fundamental aspect of mob esthetics applies in other ways, for example, race. Racial mobs are ugly. The ugliness of such mobs tends to be undermined by ethnic diversity. Ugly racial mobs tend to become less ugly as racial diversity increases.

Religious Mobs are ugly. Even though such mobs might contain appropriate sexual and racial diversity they remain ugly because they are mobs which otherwise lack redeeming social value.

I should mention that Religious mobs are really a subset of Cultural Mobs (not mentioned above), but since Religion is usually the most prominent aspect of Culture - on a par with Language - and since Culture is a much broader human category, I have bypassed that broad category and gone directly to one of the most defining aspects of culture. Which brings us back to the subject, 'ugly religious mobs.'

(1)

Are you a liberal AntiSemite? perports to test your liberal flavor in regard to Jews and Israel. Well, maybe. I squeaked by with a 16. My answers are at the bottom (tap). Take the test before reading them, because you might be a total nutcase and not realize it.

Make your own word puzzle. A few of the examples are quite funny.

Spent the week doing the usual stuff: watching TiVo, playing chess on Comcast, 'surfing the net,' and playing C-III. I did ok at chess, as usual, even managing (tap) to checkmate an unsuspecting Invincibilis in about 15 moves. And although I spend a lot of time mating strangers on Comcast (several thumps) I have problems with the Comcast chess program: there is a lot of malicious programming written into it.

I came up with the above term while playing C-III. Malicious Programming in C-III rears its ugly head with the advisory which begins with, 'Terrible news, sire...' and the news is sometimes terrible indeed. The fix is to cheat: save every iteration, then redo any that are unsatisfactory. (You should also disable fixed events in favor of random events (forgot the terms for this) right at the beginning of the game.) Anyway, here is a short list of MP on the Comcast chess program:

• The final position is obscured by the notification of the final result. Both the winner and the loser are denied a view of the final position. Bad idea! In the winner's case this could be a position filled with existential beauty. In the losers case it could be a position filled with existential truth. Malice obscures both (thump).
• When the opponent resigns there is a loud (if you have the volume turned up) noise which tends to evoke the 'startle response' in the unsuspecting winner.

And I could go on and on but those are the most objectional. I draw the conclusion that the creators of this program were chess losers, in it for the money.

(my answers: a b b a a b a b b b)

Labels: anti-semitism, chess

(5)

Time to wrap this up. There are two items in my notes for tonight which interest me and which I have not yet covered: 1. The religious spectrum; 2. Consultant to God.

The second item is, of course, related to my unique access to God, such as it is. God obviously needs a consultant in the modern age and He has offered me the job.

But the first item is much more important and concerns the subject of 'individual religion' versus 'group religion.' I will claim that 'Mob Religion' is by nature, evil. I will furthermore claim that Private Religion is good.

Nighty-night!

(4)

Which brings us to my most recent interview with God. I dialed 666 on the Brown Telephone only after I knew I had real news (I never bother God on the telephone frivilously). I was certain that God would be interested in my new information. God answered immediately.
----------
gd: Hello?
me: Good news!
gd: Thank you.
me: Jesus is a female.
gd: ...
me: You may not realize yet that Jesus will not be videotaped masturbating endlessly!
gd: ...
me: Which is good imagewise!
gd: ...
me: Hello?
gd: Jesus is a girl? You sure?
me: Exactly.
gd: Are you in a position to ignore or otherwise minimize this information?
me: Of course.
gd: Then do it. The one thing Jesus needs at this moment is privacy.
me: Your wish is my command.
----------

(3)

Currenteventswise I have reached the beginning of chapter three of The God Delusion, 'Arguments For God's Existence.' Whew. The chapter begins with a quote from Thomas Jefferson - "A professorship of theology should have no place in our institution."

I am looking forward to reading this chapter. I imagine that Jefferson had in mind Public Schools, in which case I agree: America is not a 'Christian Nation.' Indeed, when I was a child in the 1940s the 'Pledge of Allegiance' did not contain the words, 'under God.' I never uttered those words. Nor would I utter them today. Those words are ludicrous. Those words should be removed from The Pledge, stricken forever. The Constitution should be amended to emphasize the 'no establishment clause,' which seems to have been bypassed in so-called 'modern' times. Dumb-Ass 'Gods' have no place in a modern political culture. DAGs should be limited to folk lore. DAGs have absolutely no place in modern politics.

And not only American politics, all politics. Dumb Ass Gods do not exist and as such do not deserve to be represented in Human decisions. Dumb Ass Gods only serve to pervert Human Ideas into grotesque charicatures. Nothing good has ever come of Dumb Ass Gods. Dumb Ass Gods are evil.

I propose the following amendment to the constitution: America is a nation which serves no God. America serves The People and the abode of The People.

(2)

I am (tap) somewhat later than usual tonight because I enjoyed a much-needed nap this afternoon which lasted from about 1330 to 1530 (minus gas/EMR time). When I went to bed I was dubious that I would get any sleep at all considering that I had drunk about four or five Diet Pepsis since getting out of bed. But my brain was so dull that - although I won all my games on Comcast (tap) - (tap) I felt I needed a nap. Gas and EMR greeted me for the first 30 minutes, but I woke up dreaming about peeing in my pants. Have you ever had that (tap) (tap) dream?

I am happy to report that I resisted peeing to the point of becoming fully conscious, whenupon I did the culturally expected thing. And I was indeed refreshed by the much-needed (and surprising, given my caffine intoxication level) sleep.

But when I began drinking beer within an hour of awakening, mindful that I had a long night ahead, nothing. So I wondered: 'Too soon after waking up?' Or... 'Too soon (tap) since my last (Tuesday night) boozing?' Whatever.

Really, the question does not much interest me now. What interests me now is my psychological state and what I need to do in order to steer it in the desired direction. It seems to me at the moment that I should continue the usual prescription for a Friday Night.

Cheers.

Labels: booze, self awareness

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This is actually a snapshot of a process at work in the modern world. 'Modernization' is not quite the right word for it. Keep Hope alive.

Pot lovers, rejoice... I think.

Oh dear. Did I inspire this joke gone wrong? Naw. Couldn't be. But still, the character (tap) depicted in the light matrix appears to be flipping somebody off using the stinkfinger mudra, left hand and all. Seems the Boston Police took it seriously.

I should mention that in a recent moment of boredom I Googled 'chimpanzee virgin birth' and discovered that Jesus is a female, not a male. My mistake. This new fact concerning Jesus means that Jesus is not likely to be videotaped masturbating endlessly. Good news! But on the other hand Jesus is a member of the opposite sex. Bad News. Considering that WHTZSNM and Associates (tap) are males - only the Holy Spirit Itself being sexually incognito - I will later, if time and sobriety permit, give God a call and break the good news concerning Jesus, then pose the obvious question.

Labels: jesus, Terrorism, Virgin Birth