Saturday, March 31, 2007
Pussy Delayed
(6)
Uh-oh. It seemed to me as I read the previous posts that I intended a political message. Not! Forget that dubious interpretation. Ain't so.
Which brings us to the end of this week's drunken ruminations: Pope Benedict (PB) announced recently that Hell is a real place (state?) and not just a religious metaphor. This is bad news. PB is obviously a fundamentalist hardliner. It was this announcement which attracted my attention to the question. Don't get me wrong: I like PB even though he has a smile somewhat resembling that of an SS official from the Hitler era.
Really. I like this new pope, if not his smile.
So I was a bit disappointed (but at the same time delighted!) to see in the news recently that he endorsed the idea of Eternal Punishment. What a gloriously bizarre idea! Here is the leader of a billion or more idiots who subscribes to the old and odius idea that you will burn forever unless you do the will of an ancient tribal god. Wow. And this is 2007!
Please believe me when I say I believe that PB's smile is most certainly genetic, not idiological: Some Germans tend to smile that way. Indeed the whole question is unfair, and I apologize for that to my German friends if any.
And not that PB and I necessarilly disagree in other matters: I like his idea of bringing back the Latin Mass, for example. Really. I have always loved Latin for its incomprehensibility. What a language! It always seemed to me during my altar boy days that Latin was... esoteric, which is to say that the language was well suited to the subject at hand (The Mass). I flunked high school Latin time and again. I could never get beyond, 'amo, amas, amat...' I never passed. Father Manning flunked me consistently not only in Latin but in Apologetics. We apparently had a 'thing' going. I eventually graduated at the end of my thirteenth year of school when I passed the apologetics test too late to go to the prom. No pussy for me that year but I would get plenty of pussy after arriving in Japan a year or two later.
I think that Father Manning was hoping I would become a priest. Uh-uh.
Nofuckingwayhofuckingzay!
Uh-oh. It seemed to me as I read the previous posts that I intended a political message. Not! Forget that dubious interpretation. Ain't so.
Which brings us to the end of this week's drunken ruminations: Pope Benedict (PB) announced recently that Hell is a real place (state?) and not just a religious metaphor. This is bad news. PB is obviously a fundamentalist hardliner. It was this announcement which attracted my attention to the question. Don't get me wrong: I like PB even though he has a smile somewhat resembling that of an SS official from the Hitler era.
Really. I like this new pope, if not his smile.
So I was a bit disappointed (but at the same time delighted!) to see in the news recently that he endorsed the idea of Eternal Punishment. What a gloriously bizarre idea! Here is the leader of a billion or more idiots who subscribes to the old and odius idea that you will burn forever unless you do the will of an ancient tribal god. Wow. And this is 2007!
Please believe me when I say I believe that PB's smile is most certainly genetic, not idiological: Some Germans tend to smile that way. Indeed the whole question is unfair, and I apologize for that to my German friends if any.
And not that PB and I necessarilly disagree in other matters: I like his idea of bringing back the Latin Mass, for example. Really. I have always loved Latin for its incomprehensibility. What a language! It always seemed to me during my altar boy days that Latin was... esoteric, which is to say that the language was well suited to the subject at hand (The Mass). I flunked high school Latin time and again. I could never get beyond, 'amo, amas, amat...' I never passed. Father Manning flunked me consistently not only in Latin but in Apologetics. We apparently had a 'thing' going. I eventually graduated at the end of my thirteenth year of school when I passed the apologetics test too late to go to the prom. No pussy for me that year but I would get plenty of pussy after arriving in Japan a year or two later.
I think that Father Manning was hoping I would become a priest. Uh-uh.
Nofuckingwayhofuckingzay!
Friday, March 30, 2007
Found Ideas
(5)
This might be a good time to come up with one or two 'found sentences' from the two books previously mentioned. Standby... OK. I found this one in a few seconds as I thumbed through I Say Onto You: 'Remember, the higher you go the more alone you are.'
And here is one from The Mustard Seed. It is not exactly a 'sentence' but a series expressing an idea: 'Death happens near you but never to you. It happens in the neighborhood, but never at the center; it happens at the circumference. You have never died, you cannot die... the nature of the self is just like the space: empty, infinitely empty, formless. Everything happens within it, nothing happens to it. This is what Jesus means.'
Well, maybe.
Concerning this theme, here is a quote from Castaneda's, A Separate Reality: '...death is the whisper of mescalito in your ears... death is nothing. Nothing!'
And from Finite and Infinite Games: 'Rules are not valid because The Senate passed them, or because heroes once played by them, or because God pronounced them through Moses or Muhammad. They are valid only if and when players freely play by them. There are no rules that require us to obey rules...
I could go on and on but you get the idea.
This might be a good time to come up with one or two 'found sentences' from the two books previously mentioned. Standby... OK. I found this one in a few seconds as I thumbed through I Say Onto You: 'Remember, the higher you go the more alone you are.'
And here is one from The Mustard Seed. It is not exactly a 'sentence' but a series expressing an idea: 'Death happens near you but never to you. It happens in the neighborhood, but never at the center; it happens at the circumference. You have never died, you cannot die... the nature of the self is just like the space: empty, infinitely empty, formless. Everything happens within it, nothing happens to it. This is what Jesus means.'
Well, maybe.
Concerning this theme, here is a quote from Castaneda's, A Separate Reality: '...death is the whisper of mescalito in your ears... death is nothing. Nothing!'
And from Finite and Infinite Games: 'Rules are not valid because The Senate passed them, or because heroes once played by them, or because God pronounced them through Moses or Muhammad. They are valid only if and when players freely play by them. There are no rules that require us to obey rules...
I could go on and on but you get the idea.
The VOOT
(4)
Here is one of the reasons I don't allow comments on my blogs. In fact I am used to getting 'death threats' from above (upstairs). These 'threats' were never so explicit, but were conveyed in such a way that they could not be mis-interpreted. I called them, VSDTs (very subtle death threats). They began in the early '90s. They were the kind of death threats a lawyer might issue. Basically, these VSDTs came in the form of stomps above as I watched some reference to violence on tv. These VSDTs continued for years and I eventually got used to them. I still get them from time to time.
Feeling generous before tax time?
The Chocolate Jesus is making news today, as is the miraculous healing of a French nun (of Parkinson's Disease, the affliction which tortured John Paul II during his last years). I usually like the idea of being a 'wet blanket,' but in this case I don't. Could this be a case of 'sympathetic symptom' (I don't know the official psychological term for it) which was relieved by the death of the beloved? It's a juicy psychological theory. Isn't it? Yes? No? Should The Church take that into consideration?
Don't get me wrong: JPII was a saint. That is obvious. No need for technicalities in that regard. The Vatican should declare JPII a saint living in heaven without further ado.
Jesus chocolat (actually, 'My sweet Lord) 'is an interesting scupture which made the news today. It depicts Jesus on the cross (cross deleted- not enough chocolate?) naked. From what I have seen on tv, Jesus has a dick (bigger than mine, by the way). Naughty comments include the question of which part of that gigantic chocolate bar you would nibble on first. Catholics are outraged of course.
I am torn. I like Jesus. But I also like the cultural processes which demystify (bust) ancient religious myths. Needless to say I glory in the controversy. By the way: If you like Jesus and would like to expand your understanding of Jesus I recommend these two books which interpret Jesus from an Eastern point of view: I Say Onto You, and The Mustard Seed. These two books will show you why 'modern televangelists' rarely make reference to the New Testament, prefering to remain safely within the Very Old and Odius Testament version - or Revelations.
Here is one of the reasons I don't allow comments on my blogs. In fact I am used to getting 'death threats' from above (upstairs). These 'threats' were never so explicit, but were conveyed in such a way that they could not be mis-interpreted. I called them, VSDTs (very subtle death threats). They began in the early '90s. They were the kind of death threats a lawyer might issue. Basically, these VSDTs came in the form of stomps above as I watched some reference to violence on tv. These VSDTs continued for years and I eventually got used to them. I still get them from time to time.
Feeling generous before tax time?
The Chocolate Jesus is making news today, as is the miraculous healing of a French nun (of Parkinson's Disease, the affliction which tortured John Paul II during his last years). I usually like the idea of being a 'wet blanket,' but in this case I don't. Could this be a case of 'sympathetic symptom' (I don't know the official psychological term for it) which was relieved by the death of the beloved? It's a juicy psychological theory. Isn't it? Yes? No? Should The Church take that into consideration?
Don't get me wrong: JPII was a saint. That is obvious. No need for technicalities in that regard. The Vatican should declare JPII a saint living in heaven without further ado.
Jesus chocolat (actually, 'My sweet Lord) 'is an interesting scupture which made the news today. It depicts Jesus on the cross (cross deleted- not enough chocolate?) naked. From what I have seen on tv, Jesus has a dick (bigger than mine, by the way). Naughty comments include the question of which part of that gigantic chocolate bar you would nibble on first. Catholics are outraged of course.
I am torn. I like Jesus. But I also like the cultural processes which demystify (bust) ancient religious myths. Needless to say I glory in the controversy. By the way: If you like Jesus and would like to expand your understanding of Jesus I recommend these two books which interpret Jesus from an Eastern point of view: I Say Onto You, and The Mustard Seed. These two books will show you why 'modern televangelists' rarely make reference to the New Testament, prefering to remain safely within the Very Old and Odius Testament version - or Revelations.
Myth Busted!
(3)
Whew. I am soooo happy I never became a lawyer.
K and I were somewhat surprised, of course, by how fast OP became TGD'sP. Wow. What a transition. Not only could OP not fix the problem, he had turned off the water to our bathtub, and unless we turned it back on we could not take a bath or a shower. Indefinitely. We saw it as a challenge: K had previously noticed that too-frequent showers had tended to dry out her skin, and so she had almost welcomed this sudden prohibition: she could go indefinitely without a shower. No problem.
I, on the other hand, saw it as an opportunity to test a pet theory of mine to the effect that my left underarm smelled differen(stomp)tly or more strongly than my right underarm. Here was the perfect opportunity to test that theory! Things went well until yesterday so far as Kootch was concerned: her Japan skin definitely benefitted from infrequent bathing in Colorado's dry climate. (She caved in yesterday and took a shower at her exercise club.) Meanwhile my experiment went equally well as I tested the smell of each underarm several times a day. My test procedure was to smear the three fingers (beginning with the index finger) of my right hand across the left armpit and sniff the result. I followed this by smearing the same fingers of the left hand across my right armpit and smelling the result, looking for any difference in smell or smell intensity. The experiment proved conclusively that my claim that my armpits smelled differently was something of a 'personal legend.' Both armpits smelled the same after many tests. I also discovered the reason for the apparent discrepancy: sweat. Seems that I had done most of my previous smell tests while watching tv. But when I watch tv my right arm is not so close to my body as my left arm. Therefore my left armpit sweats more than my right armpit. When the test was performed at the computer where both armpits were equally smothered and therefore sweated at about the same rate, there was no discernable difference in either smell or smell intensity. Myth busted!
Whew. I am soooo happy I never became a lawyer.
K and I were somewhat surprised, of course, by how fast OP became TGD'sP. Wow. What a transition. Not only could OP not fix the problem, he had turned off the water to our bathtub, and unless we turned it back on we could not take a bath or a shower. Indefinitely. We saw it as a challenge: K had previously noticed that too-frequent showers had tended to dry out her skin, and so she had almost welcomed this sudden prohibition: she could go indefinitely without a shower. No problem.
I, on the other hand, saw it as an opportunity to test a pet theory of mine to the effect that my left underarm smelled differen(stomp)tly or more strongly than my right underarm. Here was the perfect opportunity to test that theory! Things went well until yesterday so far as Kootch was concerned: her Japan skin definitely benefitted from infrequent bathing in Colorado's dry climate. (She caved in yesterday and took a shower at her exercise club.) Meanwhile my experiment went equally well as I tested the smell of each underarm several times a day. My test procedure was to smear the three fingers (beginning with the index finger) of my right hand across the left armpit and sniff the result. I followed this by smearing the same fingers of the left hand across my right armpit and smelling the result, looking for any difference in smell or smell intensity. The experiment proved conclusively that my claim that my armpits smelled differently was something of a 'personal legend.' Both armpits smelled the same after many tests. I also discovered the reason for the apparent discrepancy: sweat. Seems that I had done most of my previous smell tests while watching tv. But when I watch tv my right arm is not so close to my body as my left arm. Therefore my left armpit sweats more than my right armpit. When the test was performed at the computer where both armpits were equally smothered and therefore sweated at about the same rate, there was no discernable difference in either smell or smell intensity. Myth busted!
Interesting Logic
(2)
In case you are wondering where I managed to pick up my Christian Compassion, Here is the story: I was born in Charleston, SC at Saint Francis Hospital waaay back in the mid '30s, of Catholic parents. I am convinced that I owe many, many orgasms through the years to the happy fact that I was not circumcised. I was educated mostly at Cathedral grade school and Bishop England high school. I spent several years in the Catholic Orphanage 'under the care of nuns.' I was an (inept) altar boy for several years. Nowadays I consider myself to be a recovered Catholic. Although I dropped most all of Catholic theology I retained much of Catholic morality. I am repulsed by torture (thump), among other sins. BTW I should mention that I gave my blog address to TO even before I gave it to TGD, and I did it for the same reason.
Oops. I forgot to mention the reason TGD gave for refusing OP access: money. OP would not be given access to repair the leak until Kootch had paid the restoration bill. Interesting logic.
In view of the implication that TO was strapped, Kootch called our insurance company (American Family) requesting information on the status of our claim and also informing same of the latest developments in the case. AF responded with a request for our copy of the rules sent to us by TMMC (the management company hired by the HOA (Home Owner's Association)). We complied. NEI: AF needed by-laws (I think) before it could come to a decision regarding our liability. (Sheeeit. Katrina must have hit AF pretty hard!) Both TMMC and TO have not returned our calls in the matter, but TFD did slip yet another bill under our door wednesday or thursday. No note accompanied the bill, so we don't know whether this is a lower offer or an addition to the previous bill.
But we shall see.
In case you are wondering where I managed to pick up my Christian Compassion, Here is the story: I was born in Charleston, SC at Saint Francis Hospital waaay back in the mid '30s, of Catholic parents. I am convinced that I owe many, many orgasms through the years to the happy fact that I was not circumcised. I was educated mostly at Cathedral grade school and Bishop England high school. I spent several years in the Catholic Orphanage 'under the care of nuns.' I was an (inept) altar boy for several years. Nowadays I consider myself to be a recovered Catholic. Although I dropped most all of Catholic theology I retained much of Catholic morality. I am repulsed by torture (thump), among other sins. BTW I should mention that I gave my blog address to TO even before I gave it to TGD, and I did it for the same reason.
Oops. I forgot to mention the reason TGD gave for refusing OP access: money. OP would not be given access to repair the leak until Kootch had paid the restoration bill. Interesting logic.
In view of the implication that TO was strapped, Kootch called our insurance company (American Family) requesting information on the status of our claim and also informing same of the latest developments in the case. AF responded with a request for our copy of the rules sent to us by TMMC (the management company hired by the HOA (Home Owner's Association)). We complied. NEI: AF needed by-laws (I think) before it could come to a decision regarding our liability. (Sheeeit. Katrina must have hit AF pretty hard!) Both TMMC and TO have not returned our calls in the matter, but TFD did slip yet another bill under our door wednesday or thursday. No note accompanied the bill, so we don't know whether this is a lower offer or an addition to the previous bill.
But we shall see.
WTF?!
(1)
Looks like I will, after all, have to torment the fella downstairs once again, but I will do so as briefly as possible out of Christian compassion, then move on to more interesting matters. Here's the story:
Kootch and I decided to repair the leaky tub using our own plumber. I drove over to a place on Broadway and got a rough estimate. It seemed 'reasonable' (plumbers make damn near as much as lawyers nowadays! About time!). The plumber would arrive on monday morning around 8:30 prepared to fix the leak. Kootch notified the guy downstairs. TGD said he would notify the owner (TO). That was friday afternoon. Our plumber (OP) showed up around 8:10. We put him to work immediately (94 dollars an hour!) and after about 20 minutes he had removed the ring connecting the drain to the tub. Meanwhile, the TGD arrived. I sent K and OP downstairs to talk to TGD who was acting on behalf of TO. We expected that within an hour or two the tub drain would be repaired, allowing TGD to get on with the restoration. Wrong. TGD refused to allow access to OP, but did request OP to turn off the water to our tub in order to stop a dribble of water from above. The DOW was news to us, but I could see it from the access hole. OP dutifully complied after he came back upstairs. OP then wrote us a bill for 147.50. K paid OP by C. OP left the scene with the cautionary words, 'I am now out of the loop.'
Whew. That was about as fast as I could do it. Hopefully TGD did not suffer too much.
Looks like I will, after all, have to torment the fella downstairs once again, but I will do so as briefly as possible out of Christian compassion, then move on to more interesting matters. Here's the story:
Kootch and I decided to repair the leaky tub using our own plumber. I drove over to a place on Broadway and got a rough estimate. It seemed 'reasonable' (plumbers make damn near as much as lawyers nowadays! About time!). The plumber would arrive on monday morning around 8:30 prepared to fix the leak. Kootch notified the guy downstairs. TGD said he would notify the owner (TO). That was friday afternoon. Our plumber (OP) showed up around 8:10. We put him to work immediately (94 dollars an hour!) and after about 20 minutes he had removed the ring connecting the drain to the tub. Meanwhile, the TGD arrived. I sent K and OP downstairs to talk to TGD who was acting on behalf of TO. We expected that within an hour or two the tub drain would be repaired, allowing TGD to get on with the restoration. Wrong. TGD refused to allow access to OP, but did request OP to turn off the water to our tub in order to stop a dribble of water from above. The DOW was news to us, but I could see it from the access hole. OP dutifully complied after he came back upstairs. OP then wrote us a bill for 147.50. K paid OP by C. OP left the scene with the cautionary words, 'I am now out of the loop.'
Whew. That was about as fast as I could do it. Hopefully TGD did not suffer too much.
Friday, March 23, 2007
Millions of Feet
(3)
Before leaving today's proceedings I want to mention that the cop who visited me today was - unlike Kelso - an excellent representative of the ACSD. He had the usual (and understandable) 'cop paranoia' but he conducted himself impecably. We need more such cops.
Concerning the missing credit card bill: I called the company in question and they confirmed that they had issued a bill on the 9th of march, and that a payment was due on the 29th. I opted to pay the entire bill (over 300 dollars as I recall - the Kaiser procedures alone were 250 dollars) over the phone. It was an agonizing decision because 'they' were listening as I gave (tap) my mother's maiden name, and the 'routing number' followed by the 'account number' of my checking account.
Before making the call I had talked to the mailman. I had explained that one of my credit card bills was late (tap). I wondered whether it had been misdelivered. After searching for it amid the current mail he explained that such mail was sorted by machine and that if there was indeed a misdelivery (am I spelling that right?) it was probably delivered to 'an adjacent apartment.' That was useful information: somebody in the building probably got my mail. But nobody slipped it under my door. Naughty-naughty.
I love the concept of the 'found sentence.' I learned it from a favorite blog. It seems to me that here is a way to send out a significant message inside a small capsule. So I will incorporate the idea in my posts beginning with this one: 'Millions long for immortality who do not know what to do with themselves on a rainy sunday afternoon.' I am worried about Anne. What a beautiful woman. We do not want to lose her.
My god it's after midnight and I am only in the third post! Here is yet another found sentence: A closed mouth gathers no feet.
So true. And I would paraphrase that by substituting 'idle fingertips' in place of 'a closed mouth.'
Before leaving today's proceedings I want to mention that the cop who visited me today was - unlike Kelso - an excellent representative of the ACSD. He had the usual (and understandable) 'cop paranoia' but he conducted himself impecably. We need more such cops.
Concerning the missing credit card bill: I called the company in question and they confirmed that they had issued a bill on the 9th of march, and that a payment was due on the 29th. I opted to pay the entire bill (over 300 dollars as I recall - the Kaiser procedures alone were 250 dollars) over the phone. It was an agonizing decision because 'they' were listening as I gave (tap) my mother's maiden name, and the 'routing number' followed by the 'account number' of my checking account.
Before making the call I had talked to the mailman. I had explained that one of my credit card bills was late (tap). I wondered whether it had been misdelivered. After searching for it amid the current mail he explained that such mail was sorted by machine and that if there was indeed a misdelivery (am I spelling that right?) it was probably delivered to 'an adjacent apartment.' That was useful information: somebody in the building probably got my mail. But nobody slipped it under my door. Naughty-naughty.
I love the concept of the 'found sentence.' I learned it from a favorite blog. It seems to me that here is a way to send out a significant message inside a small capsule. So I will incorporate the idea in my posts beginning with this one: 'Millions long for immortality who do not know what to do with themselves on a rainy sunday afternoon.' I am worried about Anne. What a beautiful woman. We do not want to lose her.
My god it's after midnight and I am only in the third post! Here is yet another found sentence: A closed mouth gathers no feet.
So true. And I would paraphrase that by substituting 'idle fingertips' in place of 'a closed mouth.'
What Good Are They?
(2)
Kootch had been with me when the fella downstairs had knocked on our door the other day. We both talked to him. We discussed the question of water damage liability. The fella then brought up the question of my blog: he had typed in the blog address but nothing showed up. That seemed strange. Usually (boom), the browser will add the 'http://www stuff to the address you type in. I suggested that he preceed the address with, 'www.'
The fella then launched into a tirade, warning me (tap) to be careful what I wrote about him in my blog, or he would 'come after me.' I felt threatened. Kootch felt threatened. We did not call the ACSD because... what good are they?
As you know, I think that it is only fair that anyone mentioned in my blog should have the blog address. It is true that I have not always followed that policy, but I intend to do so in the future. I had given the address to the fella because it seemed to me to be the Christian thing to do: if he was involved in any sort of dubious activity downstairs my blog would serve as warning: 'Don't do it. I know more than you think I know.' My intention was to keep us both out of trouble.
That plan obviously backfired in a sense, but there was a favorable outcome after all: the ACSD now has my blog address(es)! Yes! The delicious thing about it is that I did not (tap) give that address to them. I did not have to actually e-mail the address to the Chief of Police! You may recall that I attempted to interest the ACSD in my problem some time ago. A visit to Headquarters in search of an interview with a detective turned up only a suggestion to call the cops preferably on a thursday. I did that and Kelso showed up, followed by a pathetic excuse of a psychologist whose name escapes me at the moment. (Yes, I gave the dumb bastard one of my blog addresses - though I did not give any of them to Kelso.)
Kootch had been with me when the fella downstairs had knocked on our door the other day. We both talked to him. We discussed the question of water damage liability. The fella then brought up the question of my blog: he had typed in the blog address but nothing showed up. That seemed strange. Usually (boom), the browser will add the 'http://www stuff to the address you type in. I suggested that he preceed the address with, 'www.'
The fella then launched into a tirade, warning me (tap) to be careful what I wrote about him in my blog, or he would 'come after me.' I felt threatened. Kootch felt threatened. We did not call the ACSD because... what good are they?
As you know, I think that it is only fair that anyone mentioned in my blog should have the blog address. It is true that I have not always followed that policy, but I intend to do so in the future. I had given the address to the fella because it seemed to me to be the Christian thing to do: if he was involved in any sort of dubious activity downstairs my blog would serve as warning: 'Don't do it. I know more than you think I know.' My intention was to keep us both out of trouble.
That plan obviously backfired in a sense, but there was a favorable outcome after all: the ACSD now has my blog address(es)! Yes! The delicious thing about it is that I did not (tap) give that address to them. I did not have to actually e-mail the address to the Chief of Police! You may recall that I attempted to interest the ACSD in my problem some time ago. A visit to Headquarters in search of an interview with a detective turned up only a suggestion to call the cops preferably on a thursday. I did that and Kelso showed up, followed by a pathetic excuse of a psychologist whose name escapes me at the moment. (Yes, I gave the dumb bastard one of my blog addresses - though I did not give any of them to Kelso.)
A Significant Encounter
(1)
There was an interesting encounter today with (tap) the ACSD. Kootch was in her room and I was at the computer when I heard a knock on the door. I opened Kootch's bedroom door and advised her that somebody was knocking on our door. I thought it was the fella downstairs, and, based on recent history (which I shall relate later) I thought it best that Kootch answer the door while I acted as a sort of backup in case things got suddenly out of hand. Kootch answered the door while I watched and listened... The knocker wanted to speak to me. Kootch asked why. The knocker explained that it was about the guy downstairs (another tap). It turned out that the knocker was an ACSD cop. Whew! I was never so glad to see an ACSD cop! Kootch told him that I would speak to him.
I put the 357 back where it belongs and put on a shirt. I opened the door. The cop looked familiar. He wanted to speak to me outside. I told him that I would join him soon as I had put on some shoes. He was waiting for me just outside the building. The cop then explained that he was there at the request of the fella downstairs. Seems the fella doing the work downstairs had some serious objections to my blog (this blog). The fella had called the ACSD and complained, requesting that I stop writing about him in my blog. The cop had a fistful of (tap) printed paper (this blog!) which had apparently been given to him by the guy downstairs. Wow. The cops had my blog! Finally!
I assured the cop that I would (tap) not further torment the poor fella with my blog. He seemed satisfied. I then questioned the cop concerning whether he had any objection to my mentioning this encounter with him in that same blog. He preferred that our encounter not be mentioned. I explained to him that my blog was a sort of quasi-diary and that it seemed to me that our encounter was a legitimate subject ( I had the right to write). I promised not to identify him.
He seemed satisfied with that, and left soon thereafter, explaining that he had another call.
There was an interesting encounter today with (tap) the ACSD. Kootch was in her room and I was at the computer when I heard a knock on the door. I opened Kootch's bedroom door and advised her that somebody was knocking on our door. I thought it was the fella downstairs, and, based on recent history (which I shall relate later) I thought it best that Kootch answer the door while I acted as a sort of backup in case things got suddenly out of hand. Kootch answered the door while I watched and listened... The knocker wanted to speak to me. Kootch asked why. The knocker explained that it was about the guy downstairs (another tap). It turned out that the knocker was an ACSD cop. Whew! I was never so glad to see an ACSD cop! Kootch told him that I would speak to him.
I put the 357 back where it belongs and put on a shirt. I opened the door. The cop looked familiar. He wanted to speak to me outside. I told him that I would join him soon as I had put on some shoes. He was waiting for me just outside the building. The cop then explained that he was there at the request of the fella downstairs. Seems the fella doing the work downstairs had some serious objections to my blog (this blog). The fella had called the ACSD and complained, requesting that I stop writing about him in my blog. The cop had a fistful of (tap) printed paper (this blog!) which had apparently been given to him by the guy downstairs. Wow. The cops had my blog! Finally!
I assured the cop that I would (tap) not further torment the poor fella with my blog. He seemed satisfied. I then questioned the cop concerning whether he had any objection to my mentioning this encounter with him in that same blog. He preferred that our encounter not be mentioned. I explained to him that my blog was a sort of quasi-diary and that it seemed to me that our encounter was a legitimate subject ( I had the right to write). I promised not to identify him.
He seemed satisfied with that, and left soon thereafter, explaining that he had another call.
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
The Nearest Star
(4)
Which brings us to my current religious duty: informing God of the good news concerning Jesus. I have just now dialed 666 on the Brown Telephone and am waiting for an answer:
----------
gd: Hello?
me: Good news concerning Jesus!
gd: Thank you!
me: Jesus is not a chimp.
gd: Jesus is a corpse?
me: No. Jesus is not a chimp.
gd: How do you know that?
me: News reports. DNA evidence has pinned fatherhood on Conan, a male chimp residing in the group.
gd. Oh...
me: Forgive me, but You don't seem impressed. Is there a problem with Jesus?
gd: Are you recording this?
me: No. Should I be?
gd: No. May I be candid with you?
me: Please.
gd: Jesus is missing. We don't know where He is. For a while We thought He was a chimp, but now We are as much in the dark as ever. It has been over 2000 years and We are worried sick.
me: Are you saying that Jesus never returned after His crucifiction?
gd: Exactly. But We Know that He is on the way. We know that for an absolute fact.
me: Could it be a travel-time issue?
gd: Could be.
me: Where are you now?
gd: Without revealing too much I can tell you that We are in the general vicinity of Alpha Centauri.
me: Proxima Centauri?
gd: How did you know that?
me: What is Jesus' speed?
gd: 200 mph. The max.
me: Jesus will arrive in 12 million years.
gd: (hangs up)
Which brings us to my current religious duty: informing God of the good news concerning Jesus. I have just now dialed 666 on the Brown Telephone and am waiting for an answer:
----------
gd: Hello?
me: Good news concerning Jesus!
gd: Thank you!
me: Jesus is not a chimp.
gd: Jesus is a corpse?
me: No. Jesus is not a chimp.
gd: How do you know that?
me: News reports. DNA evidence has pinned fatherhood on Conan, a male chimp residing in the group.
gd. Oh...
me: Forgive me, but You don't seem impressed. Is there a problem with Jesus?
gd: Are you recording this?
me: No. Should I be?
gd: No. May I be candid with you?
me: Please.
gd: Jesus is missing. We don't know where He is. For a while We thought He was a chimp, but now We are as much in the dark as ever. It has been over 2000 years and We are worried sick.
me: Are you saying that Jesus never returned after His crucifiction?
gd: Exactly. But We Know that He is on the way. We know that for an absolute fact.
me: Could it be a travel-time issue?
gd: Could be.
me: Where are you now?
gd: Without revealing too much I can tell you that We are in the general vicinity of Alpha Centauri.
me: Proxima Centauri?
gd: How did you know that?
me: What is Jesus' speed?
gd: 200 mph. The max.
me: Jesus will arrive in 12 million years.
gd: (hangs up)
Modern Politics
(3)
Politicwise, I like Bill Richardson's attitude toward medical marijuana. My years of experience with that substance indicate that it is at most 'habituating.' The laws against it are much too harsh. Richardson is very low in the polls and therefore has little to lose. Go for it! I like Richardson based on the many interviews I have seen on modern media. He seems to have his head screwed on straight, unlike George Bush. I predict that potheads will rally to Richardson.
I like many other candidates, mostly in the Democratic Party. I like none of the declared Republicans except Hagel. I like Hagel. I think that the eventual winner will be the one who promises most fervently to undo the international and economic disaster wreaked upon us by the infamous 'Bush Administration.' America is uncomfortable engaging in religious warefare. Europe learned the lesson during the French Revolution, and now it's our turn. Sooner is better.
It's much too soon to rate the candidates, of course. So far as I am concerned they are all in the running - even Obama (who recently paid his many outstanding parking tickets).
Meanwhile, year five begins in Iraq, and we are divided on where to send our last reserves of troops: Iraq? Afghanistan? It seems to me that we now face the same problem Hitler faced in WWII: an unnecessary two-front war.
Am I a fan of Hitler? Sheeit. Is The Pope Atheist?
Politicwise, I like Bill Richardson's attitude toward medical marijuana. My years of experience with that substance indicate that it is at most 'habituating.' The laws against it are much too harsh. Richardson is very low in the polls and therefore has little to lose. Go for it! I like Richardson based on the many interviews I have seen on modern media. He seems to have his head screwed on straight, unlike George Bush. I predict that potheads will rally to Richardson.
I like many other candidates, mostly in the Democratic Party. I like none of the declared Republicans except Hagel. I like Hagel. I think that the eventual winner will be the one who promises most fervently to undo the international and economic disaster wreaked upon us by the infamous 'Bush Administration.' America is uncomfortable engaging in religious warefare. Europe learned the lesson during the French Revolution, and now it's our turn. Sooner is better.
It's much too soon to rate the candidates, of course. So far as I am concerned they are all in the running - even Obama (who recently paid his many outstanding parking tickets).
Meanwhile, year five begins in Iraq, and we are divided on where to send our last reserves of troops: Iraq? Afghanistan? It seems to me that we now face the same problem Hitler faced in WWII: an unnecessary two-front war.
Am I a fan of Hitler? Sheeit. Is The Pope Atheist?
Better Late Than Never
(2)
Believe it or not, I am still reading The God Delusion. Just today I began the chapter titled, 'The Good Book and the Moral Zeitgeist.' Sounds fascinating (but what means, 'zeitgeist'? Better look it up... and after reading the article I still don't know what the fuck it means). Anyway... I continue to be impressed with this book. Chapter 5 was concerned with The Roots of Religion, and chapter 6 was concerned with The Roots of Morality. Chapter 5 clearly equated 'modern' (eheh) religion with modern cargo cults. I loved it, of course. Chapter 6 wondered, 'Why are we good?' The answer was essentially pragmatic: we are good because it works. Not all of us are good, of course, but enough of us are good. Some of us are bad, but most of us are good. Good, works. Bad only works in special rare circumstances.
Alexander The Great, for example, was bad. He killed many people. But he was also good in that he created pathways of cultural and economic exchange which eventually benefitted all of the affected cultures. Alexander was eventually promoted to God, but death demoted him. George Bush is as clearly bad as Alexander was, but George Bush hopes to be eventually declared good by history in the manner of Alexander. It's a long shot. (Oh, don't look for this in the book.) I give Bush credit for eliminating 'sanctions' against Iraq. Nothing else.
In other news it appears that Jesus' daddy has been identified using DNA evidence: Conan. Conan is a chimp presumably not related to Conan O'brien. I will telephone God with this good news later.
I have been neglecting the modern practice of sexual mutilation known as circumcision. (The link does not quite work. To see what I meant, do a search on, 'circumcision' after you arrive there.)
Got my hair cut today by a beautiful young woman. I told her that she had an interesting face. I eventually asked her ethnicity. It was Hispanic. I thought so. I told her that her (asian) eyes were what prompted the question. I gave her a four dollar tip (haircut was 11 dollars). I resisted further flirtations mostly because the contrast between her classic young face and my old fat face was simply too much to overcome. I couldn't justify it.
My other encounter with a glorious young woman today was at the Kaiser blood unit. I 'gave blood' for my periodic coagulation test. The woman was African-American. She was never impressed by me, as I recall, but I knew from experience that she had a great butt (walking away). I called her 'honey' or 'sweetie.' I told her that her penetration of my vein (being gassed here) was 'Done like a pro!' I was sucking up to her of course. She smiled.
It seems to me that I am now learning something I should have learned before the age of 16.
Believe it or not, I am still reading The God Delusion. Just today I began the chapter titled, 'The Good Book and the Moral Zeitgeist.' Sounds fascinating (but what means, 'zeitgeist'? Better look it up... and after reading the article I still don't know what the fuck it means). Anyway... I continue to be impressed with this book. Chapter 5 was concerned with The Roots of Religion, and chapter 6 was concerned with The Roots of Morality. Chapter 5 clearly equated 'modern' (eheh) religion with modern cargo cults. I loved it, of course. Chapter 6 wondered, 'Why are we good?' The answer was essentially pragmatic: we are good because it works. Not all of us are good, of course, but enough of us are good. Some of us are bad, but most of us are good. Good, works. Bad only works in special rare circumstances.
Alexander The Great, for example, was bad. He killed many people. But he was also good in that he created pathways of cultural and economic exchange which eventually benefitted all of the affected cultures. Alexander was eventually promoted to God, but death demoted him. George Bush is as clearly bad as Alexander was, but George Bush hopes to be eventually declared good by history in the manner of Alexander. It's a long shot. (Oh, don't look for this in the book.) I give Bush credit for eliminating 'sanctions' against Iraq. Nothing else.
In other news it appears that Jesus' daddy has been identified using DNA evidence: Conan. Conan is a chimp presumably not related to Conan O'brien. I will telephone God with this good news later.
I have been neglecting the modern practice of sexual mutilation known as circumcision. (The link does not quite work. To see what I meant, do a search on, 'circumcision' after you arrive there.)
Got my hair cut today by a beautiful young woman. I told her that she had an interesting face. I eventually asked her ethnicity. It was Hispanic. I thought so. I told her that her (asian) eyes were what prompted the question. I gave her a four dollar tip (haircut was 11 dollars). I resisted further flirtations mostly because the contrast between her classic young face and my old fat face was simply too much to overcome. I couldn't justify it.
My other encounter with a glorious young woman today was at the Kaiser blood unit. I 'gave blood' for my periodic coagulation test. The woman was African-American. She was never impressed by me, as I recall, but I knew from experience that she had a great butt (walking away). I called her 'honey' or 'sweetie.' I told her that her penetration of my vein (being gassed here) was 'Done like a pro!' I was sucking up to her of course. She smiled.
It seems to me that I am now learning something I should have learned before the age of 16.
News About Downstairs
(1)
I went downstairs today and talked to Don, the fella who is doing the remodeling work down there. The walls appeared to be all done. I was curious about whether Don had used any insulating foam sealant inside the walls to prevent gas from 304 from finding its way down between the walls to 104. Don appeared to have no clue about what I meant and I believed him. If sealant was used for that purpose it was probably done by somebody else before Don began his work. My curiosity about this possibility was raised recently by a huge increase in their gassing attack, actually a 'spike' which happened on 3-17 and continued at a reduced level on 3-18 and 3-19. I thought that they might be testing the effectiveness of that hypothetical sealant. 3-17 was also Saint Paddy's Day, so maybe that occasion was the trigger. By the way, Don is obviously much better at drywalling than he is at spelling. And during the course of our conversation today Don revealed that he is a member of the Colorado National Guard and is elligible for service in Iraq. I shook his hand and wished him luck.
Kootch tells me that our insurance company has denied the claim of water damage to the apartment below based on their negligence: they failed to inform us of the leak in time to prevent extensive damage. I concur. In fact, when I first talked to Jim I pointed out this fact, but Jim went ahead with his claim anyway, possibly hoping to scam the insurance company. Jim wont get his money from us either. We will refuse to pay. (Suck on that, Jim-boy.) I told Kootch as we discussed the subject today that she might offer to pay for the ceiling damage to their bathroom. I see that as a reasonable claim.
And yet another water-off period is scheduled from 0900-1300 tomorrow. I plan to be hungover.
One last possibly-related development: Two or three weeks ago there was a problem with our mailbox - the key would not turn. It was as if somebody had inserted part of a paper clip in the works. Kooth called the post office and complained. But next day the key worked perfectly. Hmm. At least one expected letter did not show up (from the Kaiser coag unit). And today my credit card bill is way past due, which is to say that it has not arrived. Most interesting. Are they about to destroy my credit rating? We shall see...
I went downstairs today and talked to Don, the fella who is doing the remodeling work down there. The walls appeared to be all done. I was curious about whether Don had used any insulating foam sealant inside the walls to prevent gas from 304 from finding its way down between the walls to 104. Don appeared to have no clue about what I meant and I believed him. If sealant was used for that purpose it was probably done by somebody else before Don began his work. My curiosity about this possibility was raised recently by a huge increase in their gassing attack, actually a 'spike' which happened on 3-17 and continued at a reduced level on 3-18 and 3-19. I thought that they might be testing the effectiveness of that hypothetical sealant. 3-17 was also Saint Paddy's Day, so maybe that occasion was the trigger. By the way, Don is obviously much better at drywalling than he is at spelling. And during the course of our conversation today Don revealed that he is a member of the Colorado National Guard and is elligible for service in Iraq. I shook his hand and wished him luck.
Kootch tells me that our insurance company has denied the claim of water damage to the apartment below based on their negligence: they failed to inform us of the leak in time to prevent extensive damage. I concur. In fact, when I first talked to Jim I pointed out this fact, but Jim went ahead with his claim anyway, possibly hoping to scam the insurance company. Jim wont get his money from us either. We will refuse to pay. (Suck on that, Jim-boy.) I told Kootch as we discussed the subject today that she might offer to pay for the ceiling damage to their bathroom. I see that as a reasonable claim.
And yet another water-off period is scheduled from 0900-1300 tomorrow. I plan to be hungover.
One last possibly-related development: Two or three weeks ago there was a problem with our mailbox - the key would not turn. It was as if somebody had inserted part of a paper clip in the works. Kooth called the post office and complained. But next day the key worked perfectly. Hmm. At least one expected letter did not show up (from the Kaiser coag unit). And today my credit card bill is way past due, which is to say that it has not arrived. Most interesting. Are they about to destroy my credit rating? We shall see...
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
I am Alive!
(5)
In my 'Drog' I used to tell of how I practiced the art of 'self-remembering:' Before going for my daily walk in the Southglenn Maul I would put on an outrageous pair of panties (under my clothes, of course). The feeling of my underwear would aid my self-remembering (stomp above me) and I would be able to do it for the entire 30 minutes or so - unless an unusual situation presented itself, in which case the feel of my underwear would soon remind me of what I had forgot. (Later I would learn to use those unusual events themselves as tools for self-remembering.)
For the first (stomp) few years I would usually experience a return to the state of self- remembering with a shock. But as the years wore on the sense of shock disappeared. I am still not sure whether that was because I got used to the idea of failure or whether I managed to achieve the desired state. In any case it is no longer an issue with me. (I just returned from the living room where I saw a commercial ending with the words, '...living in the moment: priceless.' Hmm...)
Few people ever become interested in this sort of stuff. They were indoctrinated as children and that indoctrination sufficed to limit interest in the esoteric. I was like that too, despite my knowlege of philosophy and my resulting rejection of my childhood religion, but LSD changed my mind.
Which brings us to my final cult recommendation: psychedelic drugs. Strickly speaking, psychedelic drugs are not in themselves any sort of cult, but they are a means by which you can shatter your certainty. Drugs are means, not ends. (Oh by the way: I picked up a new supply of Warfarin today. The woman who served me at the pharmaceutical counter took my order and retrieved the drug prescription, but needed to do a 'Warfarin Verication.' She called a much younger assistant over for that purpose. I saw the occasion as the perfect setup for an Acid Joke. As she approached I put my hand on the empty plastic bag (the Warfarin was already out of the bag) and said, 'But you forgot the LSD!' Being a hip young lady who got the joke immediately she replied with something appropriate and we laughed. But the much older lady seemed somewhat put off by the incident. Only after I smiled at her super sweetly did she regain her former demeanor. I can tell you this much, folks: my new dentures have already paid for themselves.)
Certainty is the enemy.
In my 'Drog' I used to tell of how I practiced the art of 'self-remembering:' Before going for my daily walk in the Southglenn Maul I would put on an outrageous pair of panties (under my clothes, of course). The feeling of my underwear would aid my self-remembering (stomp above me) and I would be able to do it for the entire 30 minutes or so - unless an unusual situation presented itself, in which case the feel of my underwear would soon remind me of what I had forgot. (Later I would learn to use those unusual events themselves as tools for self-remembering.)
For the first (stomp) few years I would usually experience a return to the state of self- remembering with a shock. But as the years wore on the sense of shock disappeared. I am still not sure whether that was because I got used to the idea of failure or whether I managed to achieve the desired state. In any case it is no longer an issue with me. (I just returned from the living room where I saw a commercial ending with the words, '...living in the moment: priceless.' Hmm...)
Few people ever become interested in this sort of stuff. They were indoctrinated as children and that indoctrination sufficed to limit interest in the esoteric. I was like that too, despite my knowlege of philosophy and my resulting rejection of my childhood religion, but LSD changed my mind.
Which brings us to my final cult recommendation: psychedelic drugs. Strickly speaking, psychedelic drugs are not in themselves any sort of cult, but they are a means by which you can shatter your certainty. Drugs are means, not ends. (Oh by the way: I picked up a new supply of Warfarin today. The woman who served me at the pharmaceutical counter took my order and retrieved the drug prescription, but needed to do a 'Warfarin Verication.' She called a much younger assistant over for that purpose. I saw the occasion as the perfect setup for an Acid Joke. As she approached I put my hand on the empty plastic bag (the Warfarin was already out of the bag) and said, 'But you forgot the LSD!' Being a hip young lady who got the joke immediately she replied with something appropriate and we laughed. But the much older lady seemed somewhat put off by the incident. Only after I smiled at her super sweetly did she regain her former demeanor. I can tell you this much, folks: my new dentures have already paid for themselves.)
Certainty is the enemy.
Self-Remembering
(4)
How well can you 'divide your attention?' And is the 'division of attention' a desirable cognitive skill? Here is a simple test of your ability to divide your attention. Congratulations if you can pass it:
Next time you do your shopping, you must remember all the while that you are alive. You must not only remember the shopping list you must remember that you are alive. You must not only remember the location of the items on your list you must remember that you are alive. As you pay for the items you have collected you must remember that you are alive. And so on. If you meet an acquaintance and have a conversation you must remember that you are alive. This remembering is called, 'self-remembering,' and it is a basic cult skill. This 'self-remembering' must be continuous, not episodic. If you suddenly realize that in the course of concentrating on 'what you were doing' or 'what you were saying' you forgot to remember that you are alive, you flunk the test.
Division of attention is the opposite of concentration. Nature demands concentration as a prerequisite of survival. Can't concentrate? Die. It would seem, then, that Nature fails to reward the particular skill in question. But that is an illusion. Self-remembering has powerful advantages leading to stable relationships with not only Nature but The Other. The Self also benefits, obviously.
How well can you 'divide your attention?' And is the 'division of attention' a desirable cognitive skill? Here is a simple test of your ability to divide your attention. Congratulations if you can pass it:
Next time you do your shopping, you must remember all the while that you are alive. You must not only remember the shopping list you must remember that you are alive. You must not only remember the location of the items on your list you must remember that you are alive. As you pay for the items you have collected you must remember that you are alive. And so on. If you meet an acquaintance and have a conversation you must remember that you are alive. This remembering is called, 'self-remembering,' and it is a basic cult skill. This 'self-remembering' must be continuous, not episodic. If you suddenly realize that in the course of concentrating on 'what you were doing' or 'what you were saying' you forgot to remember that you are alive, you flunk the test.
Division of attention is the opposite of concentration. Nature demands concentration as a prerequisite of survival. Can't concentrate? Die. It would seem, then, that Nature fails to reward the particular skill in question. But that is an illusion. Self-remembering has powerful advantages leading to stable relationships with not only Nature but The Other. The Self also benefits, obviously.
You are Asleep
(3)
The Cult of Pi is a fun cult, but unless you like to memorize and recite sequences of numbers or solve geometry problems it is not for you. A more useful cult, in my opinion, is The Fourth Way cult. This cult produces cargo immediately in the form of self-knowlege. It is the original 'cult of cognition,' and has eclectic roots in various ancient religions. Increased awareness is the immediate form of cargo produced by this cult, but as usual there is the sort of 'after death cargo' promised in other religions. This cult claims that you were born without a soul and that when you die you will 'die like a dog,' but that you can create a soul while you are still alive, in which case your soul will live on after your body dies.
Well maybe.
This cult somewhat resembles Christianity in that it promises not only earthly rewards but an eternal reward. Compared to Christianity this is a much kinder-gentler cult: there is no hell in this cult. The very worse (worst?) you can do is to 'die like a dog' when your time comes. I recommend this cult (along with the Pi Cult), but be aware that - as in all cults - there is a certain amount of associated bullshit.
A very useful bit of cargo emerges immediately you begin practice in this cult: you realize that you are 'asleep,' that you go through your life on 'autopilot.' You will realize this as you approach your death but it will be too late because there is no time left for you to create your soul. You will die like a dog. Too late. So solly. (taps have morphed into stomps)
The possibility that you may be asleep in some sense may induce you to try the practice of 'division of attention.' It will be at that point that you will confirm your unfortunate cognitive state.
The Cult of Pi is a fun cult, but unless you like to memorize and recite sequences of numbers or solve geometry problems it is not for you. A more useful cult, in my opinion, is The Fourth Way cult. This cult produces cargo immediately in the form of self-knowlege. It is the original 'cult of cognition,' and has eclectic roots in various ancient religions. Increased awareness is the immediate form of cargo produced by this cult, but as usual there is the sort of 'after death cargo' promised in other religions. This cult claims that you were born without a soul and that when you die you will 'die like a dog,' but that you can create a soul while you are still alive, in which case your soul will live on after your body dies.
Well maybe.
This cult somewhat resembles Christianity in that it promises not only earthly rewards but an eternal reward. Compared to Christianity this is a much kinder-gentler cult: there is no hell in this cult. The very worse (worst?) you can do is to 'die like a dog' when your time comes. I recommend this cult (along with the Pi Cult), but be aware that - as in all cults - there is a certain amount of associated bullshit.
A very useful bit of cargo emerges immediately you begin practice in this cult: you realize that you are 'asleep,' that you go through your life on 'autopilot.' You will realize this as you approach your death but it will be too late because there is no time left for you to create your soul. You will die like a dog. Too late. So solly. (taps have morphed into stomps)
The possibility that you may be asleep in some sense may induce you to try the practice of 'division of attention.' It will be at that point that you will confirm your unfortunate cognitive state.
The Cult of Pi
(2)
I'm learning to vet this stuff from a more sober point of view before publishing. Thus, the previous post (#1) below was written last week but did not make the cut at sober review time. I've made slight modifications and published it tonight, now that I have a follow-up. The advantage of this procedure is obvious: I don't sound so nutty. But the downside is that it is a form of self-censorship verging almost on deception: (I was drunk but I cleaned it up.)(taps)
To continue with the theme of the previous post:
Today (3-14) is Pi day, and 1:59 pm this afternoon was Pi minute. Pi second occured 3 point 15926... seconds later. Welcome to the Cult of Pi. I have Cosmic Log to thank for the associated links. ABC News also had a fun blurb commemorating today's event. Fittingly enough, today is also Einstein's birthday.
Does the Pi sequence contain your favorite number? Of course it does, because it is an infinite sequence. Or does it? How long is your favorite number? Does an infinite irrational sequence contain within itself all possible number sequences? I doubt it but you would be better served by consulting a mathematician on this question. It seems to me as I write this that the question tends to refute the very notion of Infinity. But I've had four+ beers already. Beer can refute anything!
Do you want to play with Pi? Go for it. I looked up my favorite telephone number, of course (666). Yep, it's there. If yours is not there, take heart: the site contains only the first 200 million digits.
I'm learning to vet this stuff from a more sober point of view before publishing. Thus, the previous post (#1) below was written last week but did not make the cut at sober review time. I've made slight modifications and published it tonight, now that I have a follow-up. The advantage of this procedure is obvious: I don't sound so nutty. But the downside is that it is a form of self-censorship verging almost on deception: (I was drunk but I cleaned it up.)(taps)
To continue with the theme of the previous post:
Today (3-14) is Pi day, and 1:59 pm this afternoon was Pi minute. Pi second occured 3 point 15926... seconds later. Welcome to the Cult of Pi. I have Cosmic Log to thank for the associated links. ABC News also had a fun blurb commemorating today's event. Fittingly enough, today is also Einstein's birthday.
Does the Pi sequence contain your favorite number? Of course it does, because it is an infinite sequence. Or does it? How long is your favorite number? Does an infinite irrational sequence contain within itself all possible number sequences? I doubt it but you would be better served by consulting a mathematician on this question. It seems to me as I write this that the question tends to refute the very notion of Infinity. But I've had four+ beers already. Beer can refute anything!
Do you want to play with Pi? Go for it. I looked up my favorite telephone number, of course (666). Yep, it's there. If yours is not there, take heart: the site contains only the first 200 million digits.
A Game Worth Playing
(1)
Cargo cults promise but never deliver. Performance never enters the equation. You are born; you are indoctrinated; you practice; you die, believing. Meanwhile nothing happened, cargowise. Your life passed. You died and forgot everything. You never existed.
Which brings up the question of whether there ever was a cult worth following; whether there ever was a game worth playing. Is every cult a cargo cult?
The answer is in the cargo. Does the cult actually deliver cargo? Furthermore, is the cargo detectable while you are still alive? There can be no other criterion. And it would follow that the cargo must be detectable immediately. No waiting, especially no waiting until after death. Cargo must be delivered immediately after you begin practice: you practice, you get cargo Immediately. No waiting, no delay, no 'achieving proficiency,' only Cause and effect.
The natives of Borneo built 'airfields' complete with 'control towers' hoping to lure airplanes bearing cargo from the gods (Mondo Cane). No airplanes ever landed there. No airplanes ever will land there on those small hilltop 'airfields,' but the Cargo Cults still exist, hoping, believing in vain. The children of the original believers will go on manning the 'control towers' while other children of the original believers will go on cutting the grass, all waiting for The Arrival. Such is the nature of belief. Christians have been waiting 2000 years for Jesus to return. No doubt they will wait another 2000.
Which brings us back to the original question, above. I claim that the answer to the question above is, 'Yes. There is indeed a cult worth following, a game worth playing.' Stay tuned.
Cargo cults promise but never deliver. Performance never enters the equation. You are born; you are indoctrinated; you practice; you die, believing. Meanwhile nothing happened, cargowise. Your life passed. You died and forgot everything. You never existed.
Which brings up the question of whether there ever was a cult worth following; whether there ever was a game worth playing. Is every cult a cargo cult?
The answer is in the cargo. Does the cult actually deliver cargo? Furthermore, is the cargo detectable while you are still alive? There can be no other criterion. And it would follow that the cargo must be detectable immediately. No waiting, especially no waiting until after death. Cargo must be delivered immediately after you begin practice: you practice, you get cargo Immediately. No waiting, no delay, no 'achieving proficiency,' only Cause and effect.
The natives of Borneo built 'airfields' complete with 'control towers' hoping to lure airplanes bearing cargo from the gods (Mondo Cane). No airplanes ever landed there. No airplanes ever will land there on those small hilltop 'airfields,' but the Cargo Cults still exist, hoping, believing in vain. The children of the original believers will go on manning the 'control towers' while other children of the original believers will go on cutting the grass, all waiting for The Arrival. Such is the nature of belief. Christians have been waiting 2000 years for Jesus to return. No doubt they will wait another 2000.
Which brings us back to the original question, above. I claim that the answer to the question above is, 'Yes. There is indeed a cult worth following, a game worth playing.' Stay tuned.
Thursday, March 08, 2007
The Ultimate Cargo
(6)
A Cargo Cult by definition is a belief system based on false premises, passed down from generation to generation, promising rewards contingent on belief and practice. The most original Cargo Cult must certainly be Judaism, which teaches that sexual mutilation of infant males is pleasing to God, somehow, and that God will reward the new inductee later in life, somehow: Jewish newborns are sexually mutilated, resulting in a lifetime of reduced sexual pleasure, and this is somehow pleasing to the Jewish God, somehow. In the Jewish case, the 'Cargo' is tribal membership, a minimal return considering the heavy lifetime investment. Another possible benefit is that, deprived of normal sexual pleasure, Jewish males will concentrate their sexual energies on becoming superior lawyers and pediatritians. Procreation will suffer, of course, but no matter. This is a marginal cult, offering little, and this cult has suffered for at least 3000 years as a result.
Take a more esoteric Cargo Cult: Buddhism. Buddhism promises a next life. Furthermore Buddhism promises a happier current life if you understand and apply Buddhist principles. Buddhism even offers a happier next life for adept practicioners based on the concept of 'Karma.' I see Buddhism as a vast improvement over Judaism and its derivatives. Interestingly, Buddhism sees 'Nirvana' (absorbtion of the individual soul into The One) as the ultimate goal. But whereas this far-fetched idea assures the individual Buddhist that while there is a next life for him or her providing he or she does not become tooooo good at Buddhist practice, the default is obviously dubious: observe, yes, but don't get too good at it, otherwise your chain of lives will end. I love that little twist! The Buddha was a genius of psychology!
Contrasting with the Jewish cargo cult is the Christian cargo cult which promises two alternatives: eternal happiness or eternal torment. Mohammedanism is a related cult offering the same alternatives. Those two cults dominate our world because they offer the ultimate cargo: eternal life vs eternal damnation.
A Cargo Cult by definition is a belief system based on false premises, passed down from generation to generation, promising rewards contingent on belief and practice. The most original Cargo Cult must certainly be Judaism, which teaches that sexual mutilation of infant males is pleasing to God, somehow, and that God will reward the new inductee later in life, somehow: Jewish newborns are sexually mutilated, resulting in a lifetime of reduced sexual pleasure, and this is somehow pleasing to the Jewish God, somehow. In the Jewish case, the 'Cargo' is tribal membership, a minimal return considering the heavy lifetime investment. Another possible benefit is that, deprived of normal sexual pleasure, Jewish males will concentrate their sexual energies on becoming superior lawyers and pediatritians. Procreation will suffer, of course, but no matter. This is a marginal cult, offering little, and this cult has suffered for at least 3000 years as a result.
Take a more esoteric Cargo Cult: Buddhism. Buddhism promises a next life. Furthermore Buddhism promises a happier current life if you understand and apply Buddhist principles. Buddhism even offers a happier next life for adept practicioners based on the concept of 'Karma.' I see Buddhism as a vast improvement over Judaism and its derivatives. Interestingly, Buddhism sees 'Nirvana' (absorbtion of the individual soul into The One) as the ultimate goal. But whereas this far-fetched idea assures the individual Buddhist that while there is a next life for him or her providing he or she does not become tooooo good at Buddhist practice, the default is obviously dubious: observe, yes, but don't get too good at it, otherwise your chain of lives will end. I love that little twist! The Buddha was a genius of psychology!
Contrasting with the Jewish cargo cult is the Christian cargo cult which promises two alternatives: eternal happiness or eternal torment. Mohammedanism is a related cult offering the same alternatives. Those two cults dominate our world because they offer the ultimate cargo: eternal life vs eternal damnation.
Jesus' Cargo Cult
(5)
Well folks, I finally got around to watching The Lost Tomb. It took me at least three sessions to get through it but I finally got the job done. I found it fairly interesting as well as fairly informative. I didn't know, for example, that the type of 'ossuary' presumed to contain Jesus' remains was in use only from about 30 BC to about 70 AD.
This guy was unimpressed with the two hour piece, but I am convinced, pending a competent rebuttal. This Newsweek piece is the best summary I have read so far.
There were apparently no bones, only 'residue' on the floors on the ossuaries. Enough DNA was extracted to show that Jesus and Mary Magdalene were not brother and sister. The map on the Discovery Channel web site shows four skulls, but the site was hopelessly incompetent. What happened to Jesus' bones? 'Dust onto dust?' Or were they 'assumed into Heaven?' Then what about the other bones? Did they get sucked up too? One wonders.
I mention this because I am not at all curious about Jesus' remains. I am not a 'believer.' I see the entire Jewish Myth as incoherent, beginning in the Garden of Eden. Jesus may have been an actual historical figure - may not - but the religion he spawned is as bogus as an Indonesian Cargo Cult. Jesus stood on the quicksand of Judaism... and sank.
But I wonder: is every 'religion' necessarily a Cargo Cult? Is it possible to have a 'religion' which is without 'cargo?' A cargo-less religion? And if so, what might that attribute of cargo-lessness imply? What is a Cargo Cult anyway?
Well folks, I finally got around to watching The Lost Tomb. It took me at least three sessions to get through it but I finally got the job done. I found it fairly interesting as well as fairly informative. I didn't know, for example, that the type of 'ossuary' presumed to contain Jesus' remains was in use only from about 30 BC to about 70 AD.
This guy was unimpressed with the two hour piece, but I am convinced, pending a competent rebuttal. This Newsweek piece is the best summary I have read so far.
There were apparently no bones, only 'residue' on the floors on the ossuaries. Enough DNA was extracted to show that Jesus and Mary Magdalene were not brother and sister. The map on the Discovery Channel web site shows four skulls, but the site was hopelessly incompetent. What happened to Jesus' bones? 'Dust onto dust?' Or were they 'assumed into Heaven?' Then what about the other bones? Did they get sucked up too? One wonders.
I mention this because I am not at all curious about Jesus' remains. I am not a 'believer.' I see the entire Jewish Myth as incoherent, beginning in the Garden of Eden. Jesus may have been an actual historical figure - may not - but the religion he spawned is as bogus as an Indonesian Cargo Cult. Jesus stood on the quicksand of Judaism... and sank.
But I wonder: is every 'religion' necessarily a Cargo Cult? Is it possible to have a 'religion' which is without 'cargo?' A cargo-less religion? And if so, what might that attribute of cargo-lessness imply? What is a Cargo Cult anyway?
A Telling Tap
(4)
It seems to me that something is afoot with the Jewish faggot Walter Gerash vis our 'relationship.' Gerash obviously intends to change that 'relationship' in a major way. And not only have I noticed the aformentioned indicators, I have noticed others as well. Pardon me while I check my records because I do not quite recall... ah yes: EMR took a sudden nose dive beginning 3-4-7 (last sunday). Daytime EMR has remained low during daylight hours. SCRAD (scrotum) has virtually disappeared. Nighttime EMR has retained potency but diminished in duration. My general impression is that Gerash is winding down his EMR attack. Why?
One possibility is that Gerash does not want Don (downstairs) wondering why the skin on his scrotum is crawling. But this brings up the question: Why Don in the first place? And why Jim? Why has Jim suddenly come to realize that apartment 104 is an asset which has been going to waste for much too long?
Your guess is as good as mine. The best I can come up with at the moment is that Walter L Gerash - obsessed faggot - does not want to run me out of my home just yet. And what would that reason be? I suppose it must have something to do with Gerash's idea of being married to his 'soulmate:' Gerash has achieved the ultimate stalker's dream: living in the same building with the beloved/behated, able to see and hear everything in the life of the same. Furthermore he can torture the beloved/behated day and night at will. This is the best he can hope for. He does not want this relationship to end. He wants me to stay here with Kootch (tap).
I have only one thing to say to you, faggot: Sayonara!
It seems to me that something is afoot with the Jewish faggot Walter Gerash vis our 'relationship.' Gerash obviously intends to change that 'relationship' in a major way. And not only have I noticed the aformentioned indicators, I have noticed others as well. Pardon me while I check my records because I do not quite recall... ah yes: EMR took a sudden nose dive beginning 3-4-7 (last sunday). Daytime EMR has remained low during daylight hours. SCRAD (scrotum) has virtually disappeared. Nighttime EMR has retained potency but diminished in duration. My general impression is that Gerash is winding down his EMR attack. Why?
One possibility is that Gerash does not want Don (downstairs) wondering why the skin on his scrotum is crawling. But this brings up the question: Why Don in the first place? And why Jim? Why has Jim suddenly come to realize that apartment 104 is an asset which has been going to waste for much too long?
Your guess is as good as mine. The best I can come up with at the moment is that Walter L Gerash - obsessed faggot - does not want to run me out of my home just yet. And what would that reason be? I suppose it must have something to do with Gerash's idea of being married to his 'soulmate:' Gerash has achieved the ultimate stalker's dream: living in the same building with the beloved/behated, able to see and hear everything in the life of the same. Furthermore he can torture the beloved/behated day and night at will. This is the best he can hope for. He does not want this relationship to end. He wants me to stay here with Kootch (tap).
I have only one thing to say to you, faggot: Sayonara!
History
(3)
Several years ago there was a flood in 104. water poured out into the hallway and soaked the carpet. Apparently 'nobody was home' at the time and the flooding went unnoticed until the hallway rug near 104 was soaked. Rumor was that a pipe had ruptured somewhere above 104 and had flooded the apartment. (Indeed, there was much associated ceiling work done in the hallway between 104 and 108 at the time.) The flooding process may have taken days or longer. This event coincided with the period when the mailbox to 104 was 'blocked:' no mail was to be delivered to 104. No tenant! My conjecture: the apartment was deserted at the time due to an 'unlivable condition' probably connected to the extremely heavy gassing process then being directed against me in 204 by the folks in 304. My readings of electrical energy consumption by 104 at the time confirmed my suspicion that the apartment was vacant.
Back to current events: yesterday the worker downstairs (Don) presented us with a bill for $1347.00 to repair the water damage done to the apartment below by our bathtub leak. When Don first informed me of the fact that he would soon present us with a bill I got the distinct impression that he was leaving open the possibility that together we might work out a deal of some sort at the expense of the insurance company. He was quite subtle about it and I don't remember the details but I do remember my reply: 'No. You give me the bill first, then I'll give you the name of our insurance company.' I could be wrong about Don's intentions.
Don and Jim (the owner) turned out to be magnanimous. There was a note at the bottom of the bill to the effect that, 'This est is being generouse , because no tile work was added. Owner of 104 is covering some lost to help out only to get this done. Tile work would have been another $750.00.'
Several years ago there was a flood in 104. water poured out into the hallway and soaked the carpet. Apparently 'nobody was home' at the time and the flooding went unnoticed until the hallway rug near 104 was soaked. Rumor was that a pipe had ruptured somewhere above 104 and had flooded the apartment. (Indeed, there was much associated ceiling work done in the hallway between 104 and 108 at the time.) The flooding process may have taken days or longer. This event coincided with the period when the mailbox to 104 was 'blocked:' no mail was to be delivered to 104. No tenant! My conjecture: the apartment was deserted at the time due to an 'unlivable condition' probably connected to the extremely heavy gassing process then being directed against me in 204 by the folks in 304. My readings of electrical energy consumption by 104 at the time confirmed my suspicion that the apartment was vacant.
Back to current events: yesterday the worker downstairs (Don) presented us with a bill for $1347.00 to repair the water damage done to the apartment below by our bathtub leak. When Don first informed me of the fact that he would soon present us with a bill I got the distinct impression that he was leaving open the possibility that together we might work out a deal of some sort at the expense of the insurance company. He was quite subtle about it and I don't remember the details but I do remember my reply: 'No. You give me the bill first, then I'll give you the name of our insurance company.' I could be wrong about Don's intentions.
Don and Jim (the owner) turned out to be magnanimous. There was a note at the bottom of the bill to the effect that, 'This est is being generouse , because no tile work was added. Owner of 104 is covering some lost to help out only to get this done. Tile work would have been another $750.00.'
Cover Story
(2)
It was all a lie, of course, a 'cover story.'
I asked him how many years the apartment had been 'unproductive.' He could not recall that. He needed to check his records. I got the impression that this fella was being extremely deceptive and uncooperative. Recalling that he had a Jewish-sounding last name I asked him whether he was Jewish. The question appeared to irritate him. He replied, 'No. Are you?' I might as well have asked him whether he was queer. In the course of the conversation he volunteered that he had owned the apartment since 1983. He wanted me to know that. I found the information interesting because that was the year Kootch bought hers. This was on monday, 3-5-7.
Yesterday the water was turned off from 9 am - 12 pm in order to allow the fella doing the work down there to solder the pipes back together. ((You may remember that I conjectured some time ago that in order to remove 'ground' from our apartment they cut the supply pipes and inserted plastic sections. I conjectured that this was done to render my makeshift 'Faraday shield' against electromagnetic radiation, ineffective.) Kootch came home yesterday around noon and turned on the cold water tap. The water was still off. Soon thereafter we got a query from below about leaking water. I went downstairs and saw that water was dripping from one of the copper pipes leading upstairs from the kitchen. The plumber was in the process of soldering in a new section and the water was interfering with what he was doing. I told him what had happened and he resumed. I also got to view the problem with our bathtub: water was leaking from the tub drain pipe into the tub below.)
So what really happened down there to flood the apartment to the point that everything below waist level had to be removed?
It was all a lie, of course, a 'cover story.'
I asked him how many years the apartment had been 'unproductive.' He could not recall that. He needed to check his records. I got the impression that this fella was being extremely deceptive and uncooperative. Recalling that he had a Jewish-sounding last name I asked him whether he was Jewish. The question appeared to irritate him. He replied, 'No. Are you?' I might as well have asked him whether he was queer. In the course of the conversation he volunteered that he had owned the apartment since 1983. He wanted me to know that. I found the information interesting because that was the year Kootch bought hers. This was on monday, 3-5-7.
Yesterday the water was turned off from 9 am - 12 pm in order to allow the fella doing the work down there to solder the pipes back together. ((You may remember that I conjectured some time ago that in order to remove 'ground' from our apartment they cut the supply pipes and inserted plastic sections. I conjectured that this was done to render my makeshift 'Faraday shield' against electromagnetic radiation, ineffective.) Kootch came home yesterday around noon and turned on the cold water tap. The water was still off. Soon thereafter we got a query from below about leaking water. I went downstairs and saw that water was dripping from one of the copper pipes leading upstairs from the kitchen. The plumber was in the process of soldering in a new section and the water was interfering with what he was doing. I told him what had happened and he resumed. I also got to view the problem with our bathtub: water was leaking from the tub drain pipe into the tub below.)
So what really happened down there to flood the apartment to the point that everything below waist level had to be removed?
The Lost Apartment
(1)
Boy, that was weird. I remember thinking after the initial post last week that in my sleep-deprived state I could use a double shot of booze to get me rolling, and it worked for a while, but went rapidly downhill after another double, and another... I also drank all the beer. Saturday's hangover was worse than usual, as you might guess.
Loud banging from the downstairs area just now reminds me to address a very interesting development: the owner of the uninhabited apartment downstairs has suddenly discovered that he has a valuable asset down there which has been going to waste for years. Apparently he guessed somehow that Kootch might be the owner of the 204, and when he saw her on the sidewalk outside the building last monday, asked whether she lived there. Kootch replied in the affirmative. He then advised her that our bathtub was leaking into his apartment. Kootch told me.
I then went downstairs to talk to him. Sure enough! I offered to turn on the water upstairs so that I could confirm the leak. He was not interested. I asked him whether I could look around. He had no objection. I found that all of the lower (about waist-down) dry wall had been removed from the apartment. The ceiling had been removed from the bathroom (I already knew that because I could see into the bathroom from the plumbing access opening in our own bathroom). There were no appliances in the kitchen area. The entire apartment had been stripped. No cabinets, nothing. Even the floor tiles had been stripped down to the cement. The apartment was gutted except for the ceilings in the other rooms.
He explained that the most recent renter had neglected the place, allowing it to go downhill. The sewer eventually backed up flooding the place. The renter skipped town. That was his 'story.'
Boy, that was weird. I remember thinking after the initial post last week that in my sleep-deprived state I could use a double shot of booze to get me rolling, and it worked for a while, but went rapidly downhill after another double, and another... I also drank all the beer. Saturday's hangover was worse than usual, as you might guess.
Loud banging from the downstairs area just now reminds me to address a very interesting development: the owner of the uninhabited apartment downstairs has suddenly discovered that he has a valuable asset down there which has been going to waste for years. Apparently he guessed somehow that Kootch might be the owner of the 204, and when he saw her on the sidewalk outside the building last monday, asked whether she lived there. Kootch replied in the affirmative. He then advised her that our bathtub was leaking into his apartment. Kootch told me.
I then went downstairs to talk to him. Sure enough! I offered to turn on the water upstairs so that I could confirm the leak. He was not interested. I asked him whether I could look around. He had no objection. I found that all of the lower (about waist-down) dry wall had been removed from the apartment. The ceiling had been removed from the bathroom (I already knew that because I could see into the bathroom from the plumbing access opening in our own bathroom). There were no appliances in the kitchen area. The entire apartment had been stripped. No cabinets, nothing. Even the floor tiles had been stripped down to the cement. The apartment was gutted except for the ceilings in the other rooms.
He explained that the most recent renter had neglected the place, allowing it to go downhill. The sewer eventually backed up flooding the place. The renter skipped town. That was his 'story.'
Saturday, March 03, 2007
Modern TV
(7)
Which brings us to my most recent interview with God. What does God think about the latest revelations concerning Jesus? Toward the answer to this question I picked up the Brown Telephone and dialed 666:
----------
gd: Hello?
me: I have news about Jesus.
gd: Thank you!
me: The good news is that Jesus is not dead. Yet.
gd: Howso? And so what?
me: First of all, I wish to speak for the record that I have never contemplated killing Jesus.
gd: (silence)
me: Nevertheless I have been interested in Jesus.
gd: (silence)
me: Modern Media claims that Jesus' bones have been found recently.
gd: (silence)
me: It has been all over modern TV.
gd: TV?
Which brings us to my most recent interview with God. What does God think about the latest revelations concerning Jesus? Toward the answer to this question I picked up the Brown Telephone and dialed 666:
----------
gd: Hello?
me: I have news about Jesus.
gd: Thank you!
me: The good news is that Jesus is not dead. Yet.
gd: Howso? And so what?
me: First of all, I wish to speak for the record that I have never contemplated killing Jesus.
gd: (silence)
me: Nevertheless I have been interested in Jesus.
gd: (silence)
me: Modern Media claims that Jesus' bones have been found recently.
gd: (silence)
me: It has been all over modern TV.
gd: TV?
Friday, March 02, 2007
My Next Adventure
(6)
Kootch lives in her world. I live in my world. You would think that (tap) over the span of fifty years (tap) we would have somehow managed to integrate those disparate worlds into a mutually agreeable common world. You would be wrong about that. After 50 years of marriage we still live in different worlds. Never the twain shall meet. Kootch and I will never agree about the Nature of our Common World. Never, ever.
And so I am making preperations to leave Kootch forever. Little does she know that we will never celebrate our 50th anniversary. She expects that we will, but she is mistaken. I would never agree to such a celebration. Little does she know.
So I am making (tap) preparations to leave her. I remember the old days when, on The Goose, I was fucking a German yum-yum while writing to Kootch of normalcy, marriagewise. In the same fashion I will not advise her. I will leave her without warning. Let her come to terms with that. I think that '50 years' is only a cultural number, meaningless: as meaningless as the length of our pathetic marriage.
At the age of 72 I am more than ready to die: let my next adventure begin!
Kootch lives in her world. I live in my world. You would think that (tap) over the span of fifty years (tap) we would have somehow managed to integrate those disparate worlds into a mutually agreeable common world. You would be wrong about that. After 50 years of marriage we still live in different worlds. Never the twain shall meet. Kootch and I will never agree about the Nature of our Common World. Never, ever.
And so I am making preperations to leave Kootch forever. Little does she know that we will never celebrate our 50th anniversary. She expects that we will, but she is mistaken. I would never agree to such a celebration. Little does she know.
So I am making (tap) preparations to leave her. I remember the old days when, on The Goose, I was fucking a German yum-yum while writing to Kootch of normalcy, marriagewise. In the same fashion I will not advise her. I will leave her without warning. Let her come to terms with that. I think that '50 years' is only a cultural number, meaningless: as meaningless as the length of our pathetic marriage.
At the age of 72 I am more than ready to die: let my next adventure begin!
Living Insane
(5)
But I like the idea of 'Jesus as figment.' I see Jesus as 'wishful thinking.' I see Jesus as, Desire.
I see 'Jesus' as the common word-substitute for 'pussy' or 'penis.' So far, so good.
But 'words resemble angels.' Our notions of 'reality' are essentially history, spoken to The Other. We live our history, but we cannot quite convey it to The Other because we fail to understand that there is no common ground.
Thus, when I speak to Kootch of 'electromagnetic radiation,' she smiles condescendingly. She knows that I am insane in the most benign manner. But I am only a little bit insane. A tiny bit. Otherwise I am acceptably sane. This allows her to be at ease in my presence. The fact that she knows the location of my 357 buttresses her attitude.
But I like the idea of 'Jesus as figment.' I see Jesus as 'wishful thinking.' I see Jesus as, Desire.
I see 'Jesus' as the common word-substitute for 'pussy' or 'penis.' So far, so good.
But 'words resemble angels.' Our notions of 'reality' are essentially history, spoken to The Other. We live our history, but we cannot quite convey it to The Other because we fail to understand that there is no common ground.
Thus, when I speak to Kootch of 'electromagnetic radiation,' she smiles condescendingly. She knows that I am insane in the most benign manner. But I am only a little bit insane. A tiny bit. Otherwise I am acceptably sane. This allows her to be at ease in my presence. The fact that she knows the location of my 357 buttresses her attitude.
Nature is Mysterious
(4)
Can you imagine 800 million godless people? If so, can you imagine what might be their priorities? Let me be very clear about this: you have 800 million people who know that there is no god. What follows from that? It is a question worth considering.
It seems to me that in such a case Humanity has taken a sudden jump quite uncharasteristic in terms of Darwin's Theory. Obviously (in this case) there has been a catastrophic event in the General Human Process: something is amiss. There has been some sort of a catastrophe. Furthermore, the said catastrophe can not be sociological. There are no sociological catastrophes in the absense of physical catastrophes. Yet here is a catastrophe. What was the trigger? There must be a trigger.
The discovery of Jesus' bones (tap) might qualify, which is why I raise the question. But the sequence seems to be circular, and 'circular events' are illogical, therefore implausible: Nature would end should She allow circularity: there is no natural circularity, only mathematical circularity. Nature is essentially, at bottom, random, which allows us, You and me, to exist.
Prove me wrong if you can.
Can you imagine 800 million godless people? If so, can you imagine what might be their priorities? Let me be very clear about this: you have 800 million people who know that there is no god. What follows from that? It is a question worth considering.
It seems to me that in such a case Humanity has taken a sudden jump quite uncharasteristic in terms of Darwin's Theory. Obviously (in this case) there has been a catastrophic event in the General Human Process: something is amiss. There has been some sort of a catastrophe. Furthermore, the said catastrophe can not be sociological. There are no sociological catastrophes in the absense of physical catastrophes. Yet here is a catastrophe. What was the trigger? There must be a trigger.
The discovery of Jesus' bones (tap) might qualify, which is why I raise the question. But the sequence seems to be circular, and 'circular events' are illogical, therefore implausible: Nature would end should She allow circularity: there is no natural circularity, only mathematical circularity. Nature is essentially, at bottom, random, which allows us, You and me, to exist.
Prove me wrong if you can.
God is a Dubious Idea
(3)
(Religious underpants. Do you know what I mean?)
(Don't get me wrong: I LOVE underpants (tap). I can do without men's underpants but I absolutely LOVE women's underpants: I wear them all the time. I even wear them in the shower. I would never take a shower naked, and I would never wear men's underpants in the shower. Indeed, I do not even own even a single pair of men's underpants. Never will.)
So where were we? Ah: Convert global Pandemonium: 800 million folks would suddenly be up for grabs by the Global Religious Community. What would such a situation produce in the Sociological sense? It is a fascinating question given modern media's cultural influence.
The worldwide religious reaction would be impressive: Jews would renounce circumcision. Muslims would follow suit in hopes of attracting converts. Buddhists would meditate more intensely. It would be a wild time on Planet Earth as various religions sought to increase membership in an unprecedented, perhaps unique, environment. But would the New Emancipes be impressed by all the religious hoopla? I think not. I think that after their initial horror they would eventually become adjusted to the new paradigm: God is a dubious idea.
They would become Godless.
(Religious underpants. Do you know what I mean?)
(Don't get me wrong: I LOVE underpants (tap). I can do without men's underpants but I absolutely LOVE women's underpants: I wear them all the time. I even wear them in the shower. I would never take a shower naked, and I would never wear men's underpants in the shower. Indeed, I do not even own even a single pair of men's underpants. Never will.)
So where were we? Ah: Convert global Pandemonium: 800 million folks would suddenly be up for grabs by the Global Religious Community. What would such a situation produce in the Sociological sense? It is a fascinating question given modern media's cultural influence.
The worldwide religious reaction would be impressive: Jews would renounce circumcision. Muslims would follow suit in hopes of attracting converts. Buddhists would meditate more intensely. It would be a wild time on Planet Earth as various religions sought to increase membership in an unprecedented, perhaps unique, environment. But would the New Emancipes be impressed by all the religious hoopla? I think not. I think that after their initial horror they would eventually become adjusted to the new paradigm: God is a dubious idea.
They would become Godless.
Religious Underpants
(2)
You will quickly discover that - as in most everything - there are upsides and downsides. For example, aging men will welcome the little Jewish beenie which covers the bald spot on the rear of their heads. That is the upside. The downside concerns your penis which must be ceremoniously mutilated on the eighth day to signify to God that you intend to remain faithful to your new religion. (And by the way: you might as well remain faithful as 'promised,' because your penis will not revert to its original condition if you become an apostate. If such was the case there would be no such thing as a Jew Or a Muslim. Those religions would have died soon after birth. Indeed, both would have become stillborn.)
On the upside you will only be hated by Muslims, Christians having become passe'. This is a definite plus. And certainly America will rush to declare Israel the 51st state. That much is certain, given the new American demographic.
Would Islam be intimidated by this new religious arrangement? Probably not, but there is absolutely no question that Israel would be much safer in such a less hostile world, Christian hatred of Jews having been poofed out of existence for the most part.
There would be mass suicide, of course, by Christians who are unable to accept their default religious status. This 'demonstration' would be led by William Donohue, Pat Robertson, and Mel Gibson. I estimate that about 200 million Christians will partake, leaving about 800 million Christians up for religious grab, so to say. Of those 800 million I estimate that about 30 thousand will wholeheartedly become circumcised voluntarily. This leaves about 800 million former Christians non religio mentos, a significant number. Where will they go?
I figure that about another 30 thousand will become Animists, leaving almost 800 million ex-Christians sans underpants.
You will quickly discover that - as in most everything - there are upsides and downsides. For example, aging men will welcome the little Jewish beenie which covers the bald spot on the rear of their heads. That is the upside. The downside concerns your penis which must be ceremoniously mutilated on the eighth day to signify to God that you intend to remain faithful to your new religion. (And by the way: you might as well remain faithful as 'promised,' because your penis will not revert to its original condition if you become an apostate. If such was the case there would be no such thing as a Jew Or a Muslim. Those religions would have died soon after birth. Indeed, both would have become stillborn.)
On the upside you will only be hated by Muslims, Christians having become passe'. This is a definite plus. And certainly America will rush to declare Israel the 51st state. That much is certain, given the new American demographic.
Would Islam be intimidated by this new religious arrangement? Probably not, but there is absolutely no question that Israel would be much safer in such a less hostile world, Christian hatred of Jews having been poofed out of existence for the most part.
There would be mass suicide, of course, by Christians who are unable to accept their default religious status. This 'demonstration' would be led by William Donohue, Pat Robertson, and Mel Gibson. I estimate that about 200 million Christians will partake, leaving about 800 million Christians up for religious grab, so to say. Of those 800 million I estimate that about 30 thousand will wholeheartedly become circumcised voluntarily. This leaves about 800 million former Christians non religio mentos, a significant number. Where will they go?
I figure that about another 30 thousand will become Animists, leaving almost 800 million ex-Christians sans underpants.
All Your Churches Are Belong to Us
(1)
The really big news this week is the upcoming documentary about the 'discovery' of Jesus' family tomb. It is due to be aired on the Discovery Channel, sunday. (I have TiVo'd it, and will publish my impressions of it here next week.) Meanwhile the news media has produced many previews, most which I found interesting, even titillating. Suppose those really are the bones of Jesus and His family? What are the implications? (tap) Did they find Jesus' skull? If so, can experts 'reconstruct' His facial features? (Being gassed here - time to watch Millionaire as Kootch eats lunch.) Here is one take. Here is another.
And in a related development one wonders what effect a positive outcome might have on sheep futures in the western world. Time to buy?
Kidding aside, it is fascinating to contemplate the possibility that the bones of Jesus and family have been actually discovered. Christianity would in that case be instantly falsified, leaving about a billion or so Christians with their religious panties down, so to say. Which way would they flop? Consider: Your belief in The Messiah has been proved to have been in error, leaving you with no Messiah (tap). You are Messiahless. God does not love you unconditionally. What, therefore, are you?
You are a Jew. Argh. Double argh. Tripple argh! You are a fucking Jew! (boom) You need to buy a new bible. From fucking Jews! But on second thought you could just keep the one you have and ignore the 'new' part of it. That would work... wouldn't it? But how do you then save your eternal ass? And is it really eternal? And is that a good thing or a bad thing?
And much of modern religious compassion would then disappear, would it not? No more preaching about the Sermon on the Mount? (being gassed here, LLG) Ouspensky would become fatuous, at least insofar as chapter IV of A New Model of the Universe is concerned. No rising from the dead, either. You die, and Heaven and Hell are problematical. (thump)
You are now a Jew, and God allowed Hitler to gas and burn six million of you, recently. Welcome to your new religion.
The really big news this week is the upcoming documentary about the 'discovery' of Jesus' family tomb. It is due to be aired on the Discovery Channel, sunday. (I have TiVo'd it, and will publish my impressions of it here next week.) Meanwhile the news media has produced many previews, most which I found interesting, even titillating. Suppose those really are the bones of Jesus and His family? What are the implications? (tap) Did they find Jesus' skull? If so, can experts 'reconstruct' His facial features? (Being gassed here - time to watch Millionaire as Kootch eats lunch.) Here is one take. Here is another.
And in a related development one wonders what effect a positive outcome might have on sheep futures in the western world. Time to buy?
Kidding aside, it is fascinating to contemplate the possibility that the bones of Jesus and family have been actually discovered. Christianity would in that case be instantly falsified, leaving about a billion or so Christians with their religious panties down, so to say. Which way would they flop? Consider: Your belief in The Messiah has been proved to have been in error, leaving you with no Messiah (tap). You are Messiahless. God does not love you unconditionally. What, therefore, are you?
You are a Jew. Argh. Double argh. Tripple argh! You are a fucking Jew! (boom) You need to buy a new bible. From fucking Jews! But on second thought you could just keep the one you have and ignore the 'new' part of it. That would work... wouldn't it? But how do you then save your eternal ass? And is it really eternal? And is that a good thing or a bad thing?
And much of modern religious compassion would then disappear, would it not? No more preaching about the Sermon on the Mount? (being gassed here, LLG) Ouspensky would become fatuous, at least insofar as chapter IV of A New Model of the Universe is concerned. No rising from the dead, either. You die, and Heaven and Hell are problematical. (thump)
You are now a Jew, and God allowed Hitler to gas and burn six million of you, recently. Welcome to your new religion.
