daily scratchpad

(3)
More Halloween stuff:

The Science of Spooks.
Nightmares.
AAP takes sudden interest in neonatal well-being.
Mushroom cloud. This seems to be one of those tests in the Pacific after WWII. Awesome. You must see Radio Bikini and similar videos before next Halloween, if it comes. And don't forget to order Mondo Cane too. The next 'Mondo Cane' film should include the cultural practices of male and female circumcision: Fuck Judeo-Muslim-South Korean penile 'sensibilities!' (if any).
We had three trick-or-treaters tonight (2135) for a total of 5 kids. Typical. Kootch and I get to eat the rest of the goodies, which are typical Halloween candy treats. Diet looms as usual...
2216L and way past TOT time. I can relax.
Watching NBC News just now I see that there is a question concerning the efficacy of (tap) 'lethal injection' as the official method of state-sponsored execution. Apparently the current procedure is too complicated, resulting in occasional suffering. We need to borrow a time-honored method guaranteed to be painless (at least to the executee): a bullet behind the ear. Here is my suggestion:
1. Shave the head of the Executee (E).
2. Draw a small circle on E's head one inch behind the ear at about the level of the top of the ear. This circle represents the aiming point.
3. Select a marksman from among the local guard population.
4. Equip said guard with a double-barrelled shotgun.
5. Instruct the sucker to pull both triggers simultaneously at the sound of the gong while aiming for the geographical center of the sphere represented by the head in question.
6. Sound a very loud gong.
There is a downside, of course: The guard might have slow reflexes resulting in the case that E actually hears the gong, based on a real-time brain scan. Some courts might conclude that that fact amounts to cruel and unusual punishment. Perhaps the entire procedure would best be automated.
Nighty-night!

(2)
ABC News had a few interesting Halloween tidbits tonight:
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Head stab
MRSA
Adult Halloween Dress
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The Head stab piece was about some guy who got stabbed in the head and lost some sensation in his face as a result. This clicked with my awareness of the Judeo/Muslim practice of infant circumcision which stabs you in the 'other head' and removes sensation from your future sex life. Supposed to be very pleasing to god, the practice is widespread, especially in America. The vast majority of the world's males remain uncircumcised, and this fact no doubt irritates god constantly as he attends to each and every case of male masturbation personally, the ultimate witness to a grievous sin, punishable in Hell.
Then there is MRSA, a staph infection which has evolved to resist modern antibiotics. This problem can be by-passed with older cures (for example, Isodine) which you apply to the infection site immediately upon noticing redness following a skin break. Isodine also works well against adult diaper rash (eheh) but if you find yourself resorting often to Isodine in the absense of a bladder control problem you may be well advised to consult the services of a sex counselor. Avoid psychiatrists: they don't know doggie-doo. Really.
Bringing us to my Halloween Dress. Seeing the piece on ABC tonight it dawned on me immediately that I was wearing nothing very 'Halloweenie.' So I came up (thump) with a pair of size 12 orange cotton (JMS) panties. These pants have been around for a long time now and the elastic in the leg openings has lost flexibility, leaving me with a case of 'knickers that don't knick.' Oh well, it's my secret.
Speaking of (tap) 'Weenies,' I saw on 'Millionaire' today that 'Consumer Reports recommends Hebrew National brand as the best hot dogs.' Unable to believe that I looked it up. Sure enough!

(4)
It's past 0300L and I need to wrap this up. Jimmy Kimmel can wait. Kootch woke up recently. We gabbed. Soon I will hit the sack. Kootch will wake me around 7AM so that I can let her out. She has absolutely no idea what I do on booze nights. Just as well, I suppose...
I leave you with Mozart piano concerto 21-2 by Citlalli Guevara.

(3)

Can you imagine that Heidi Collins, well-known CNN yum-yum is descended from Neanderthals? And Maureen Dowd? Difficult to believe. I have in mind other female yum-yums too, who shall remain nameless for the moment. Conan O'brien might be... Hmm... But he's male. I can see neanderthal genes in Conan. Really.
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Warning: Some of the following music might be unforgettable... Proceed at your exclusive risk.
This is what I am doing tonight. But my medium is mostly beer...
The International Masturbation Melody. I have named it as such, and the name sticks, so far as I know.
Sloop John B. I made the mistake of playing this on the juke box at the Goose NCO Club just before I asked Eleanor to dance. It slowly dawned on me as we danced that she was not amused. I don't recall the original artists, but it was very popular on The Goose at the time.
Mozart and Salieri. I love that movie. The musical 'punch line' appears at the end.
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(2)
You will never even hear the click of the trigger pull. The bullet will outrace all nerve impulses. Furthermore, the passage of the bullet will create a shock wave which will propagate throughout the brain in a millisecond, far outpacing the slower nerve impulses. This shock wave will destroy the entire brain instantly. Game over.
Hemingway had the right idea.
But death is a part of life, and you can drag it out with the aid of modern medicine. There are even Hospices - which are really dying hospitals - for those who want to experience their own deaths, which, from what I have gathered, can sometimes be glorious events.
I doubt the pop-culture interpretation of Near Death Experiences. I think that these memories are only dreams manufactured by brains which have had their nutrient supply unexpectedly reinstated. The brain knew beforehand that it was in jepoardy, and, upon being 'rescued' concocted a plausible scenerio. No doubt these incidents contributed to the religious notion of a 'next life.'
Which brings us to 'the afterlife.' There is no afterlife. Sorry.
But this raises a fascinating question: Am I actually Life Itself? Will my awareness never end? And is that a good idea? There are two possible answers: Yes. No. Buddhists say 'Yes.'
Algernon Charles Swinburn puts the 'no' option elegantly in his poem, The Garden of Proserpine:
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From too much love of living
From hope and fear set free
We thank with brief thanksgiving
Whatever gods may be
That no life lives forever
That dead men rise up never
That even the weariest river
winds somewhere safe to sea
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Great poem. I learned it in a Catholic high school along with Chemistry. What were they thinking?!

(1)
It goes almost without saying that I agree with Bush infrequently. I think Bush and Cheney are a disaster and should be impeached. PBS recently had an interesting piece titled, 'Cheney's Law' which outlined how the Current Administration seeks to concentrate power in the Presidency using the excuse of 'The Global War on Terrorism.' And there is this.
Bill Moyers scored again last Friday with his interview of Jeremy Scahill, author of 'Blackwater.'
Apparently, there are more 'mercenaries' in Iraq than American military! Very interesting. American public opinion is being circumvented by way of a shadow army which does not register on the wounded/killed statistics. The author sees this as a threat to Democracy.


On less serious notes:
A complex joke. I can't imagine that I would be taken in by this.
Shift Happens, describes the consequences of Globalization and the Information Age.
Mars Photographs.
How does it feel to die? Very intere(thump)sting. We will all do it eventually unless Jesus or the Madhi or the Messiah (or all three!) shows up and we are Raptured (or otherwise) right out of our underpants - an unlikely scenerio. The fear of death no doubt creates and sustains these cultural illusions. The most merciful death described seems to be 'the ten second death:' blood supply to the brain is cut off. The brain uses up its reserves in about ten seconds and loses its ability to 'produce us.' We are no more. We die along with our brains, in about five minutes. Even if we are revived, 'apoptosis' might still do us in. Our brains turn to mush. We will never return. Ten seconds can be an eternity, of course, 'And in that sleep of death what dreams may come must give us pause.' The 'Near Death Experience' is well known and has no doubt contributed to the rise of the human concept of 'next life' since antiquity. But not all NDEs are Heavenly. Some can be Hellish.
Do you want to avoid that last ten seconds? Yes? Then here is my prescription(tap): blow your brains out with shotgun. A handgun will work just as well. Put the gun into your mouth. Aim for the top/back of your head. Pull the trigger.

(6)
This leaves us with the short list:
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Fareed Zacharia - The Seige of Mecca
Richard Roberts, Fundamentalist Failure
Dalai Lama - ultimate religion
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Fareed Zacharia scored again this week with his interview with the author of The Siege of Mecca, Yaroslav Trofinov. I must say that this subject caused me to re-evaluate my concepts of why Arab Muslims hate America so much. I'd thought it was all about Israel. Maybe not.

Richard Roberts has stepped down in the face of looming scandal. I love it! What a story!

The Dalai Lama seems to have impressed Bush with his religious attitude. Bush, Christian Idiot that he is, was stunned by DL's fundamental emotional position of, 'compassion,' a supposed trait of Jesus which we don't much see nowadays among Christians (or Jews). Compassion: Very interesting idea. I must say that I agree with Bush here.
I also agree with Bush that the Jewish Idiot in California - Tom Lantos - is wrong to bring up ancient war in order to feel good morally. Precisely the opposite is the case: Lantos' resolution would kill many people who otherwise would not have died. Lantos is a Jew who - like many other Jews - would sacrifice America to save Israel. That idea is widespread among Jews. It needs to be denounced openly. It is a bad idea. We need to make peace with the Muslims. We need to attack Islam with Modernity. Islam has been cooking for some time but is not yet done. Christianity reached target temperature during the French Revolution. Christianity was done by then. We took it out of the oven. Islam needs another hundred years to cook. Islam has not yet reached its 'Revolution Temperature.' We need to encourage the Islamic Revolution. Islam needs to be embarrassed by Modernity. We need to cook that unfortunate religion at high Modern temperatures.
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(5)
I've had three recent encounters with bugs. There was the case of the spider who ventured into the bathtub and could not get out. I didn't want to roast the spider in hot water as I took a shower. So I got a sheaf of paper and scooped the spider out. The ungrateful spider disappeared into the closet under the closet door. Then there was the case of the little green thing. I have forgot the details, but I got rid of it out of the patio door. Lastly there was the case of the little insect with pincers on its tail. Kootch found it inside a bag of brown rice when she cooked up the latest batch of fried rice. She passed it on to me. I dropped it into the latest batch of 'Panko' (Japanese style bread crumbs) which I feed to the birds every day in a little green bowl (which used to be a rat food bowl). The insect seemed to be incapable of climbing out. I figured it would be eaten by the birds. I placed the panko with the insect in the bowl outside on the patio railing. The birds came. I figured the insect for a goner. Wrong. That was three days ago. Today I found a much fatter insect hiding under the bowl when I retreived it for the next refill. The bug climbed down into a seam in the wood construction. Apparently the bug survived and ate the panko while escaping the birds, and presumably enters the panko dish every night and pigs out. During the day the bug hides under the bowl.
That bug is a survivor. So am I. So far...

(4)
Wow. I can hardly wait to talk to my KP yum-yum again! Naturally I will keep you informed.
Meanwhile I may have to redo the Chess Life article about the faggot Walter Gerash. I published a photograph of that pathetic old Jewish sonofabitch some time ago but I can't find it anywhere in my blogs. If you really want to see it you will need to procure a copy of Chess Life, April 1998. Meanwhile you can look it up (boom). You can find related (boom) text here. I will republish that photograph of Gerash (boom) next time. Suck on it, Faggot! Sue me if you dare! You're a fucking lawyer...
Which brings us to the idea of 'reputation.' Interesting idea. 'Reputation' can be quite a complex concept. The fundamental thing about 'reputation' is that you don't own it. Others own it. You have very little control of your reputation, expecially when you become a 'public figure.' Gerash, a 'public figure,' has that problem. I am not a 'public figure' (yet) (tap) and so I do not suffer (boom) from 'reputational anxiety' (to coin a phrase). I have no reputation problem whatsoever. I see my reputation - such as it may be - as none of my business. My reputation belongs to you entirely. I am content to leave it at that. What you think of me is literally none of my business. I couldn't care less. Fuck you and your opinions whatever they are.
This important freedom results from (boom) having no personal friends. I have no personal friends (except Kootch, and Kootch expresses her opinions quite freely to me. Nor am I afraid of Kootch's opinions.) I have no one to please or impress. Not even god. And so I roam our lovely and glorious world quite free of the psychological hindrance of 'reputation.' You should be so free. But you are not.

(3)
Another possible manifestation of DPR is cardiac arrythmia in the form of PVCs (Premature Ventricular Contractions). I have suffered from intermittent and unpredictable PVCs since about 1970. I remember the first one: I was sitting in the briefing room at Cole's Avaition. I was a flight instructor. We were having an employee meeting. Suddenly my chest seemed to explode slightly. Nobody noticed it but me. I didn't mention it to the flight surgeon on my next visit. This was about the same time I developed a voice problem called, 'spasmotic dysphonia.' Whenever I would try to talk on the airplane radio (tap) my vocal chords would 'seize up' and I would be unable to speak. The problem spread. Eventually I was unable to speak normally in any kind of a tense situation (boom). This doomed me as a flight instructor, but I was able to make-do by adopting a highly unusual form of speech which makes me sound as if I am terrified. My credibility suffered as a result. I quit flying and became a computer repairman. Bad idea: computer rooms were noisy too back in those days. Meanwhile my PVC problem was judged to be non life-threatening, but I never recovered. I still suffer from an inability to sound normal under pressure, but I can manage it from time to time especially while drunk. And I could go on and on about this but suffice it to say that when you meet me you will notice that there is something strange about my voice. I sound stressed. I am totally unable to hide that from you. I am not as bad as that Robert F. Kennedy jr. (thump) dude, but I am close. (Whoa! This link suggests that my problem can be improved by Botox injections! I'll try it!)
Getting back to the PVC problem, I notice lots of PVCs during times of DPRC. I don't know whether it is a result of DPRC stress or a direct result of DPRC inter(boom)fering with normal electrical activity in the heart. In any case I appear to be able to withstand that particular attack so far.
I am convinced that both the PVC problem and the Dysphonia problem were a direct (tap) result of the unconscious realization that somebody was listening to everything I said. It was the first indication that the ugly old Jewish faggot Walter Gerash had invaded my life. And if I am correct it would tend to suggest that Spasmotic Dysphonia can be psychologic in nature.

(2)
I noticed both the white van and the brown van when the current occupants moved in. I remember the driver of the brown van very well. He was standing beside it below our patio, on the grass. I was observing them from inside. He looked up at me. We made mutual eye contact for about 4 secounds before he broke off. During that time we exchanged quite a bit of information. His message to me was, "So, you're the mark. Hmm." My message to him was, "I am going (boom) to nail your ugly Judeo-faggot ass to the wall." And he was ugly. He looked like a typical Israeli settler with a huge beard. The other guy was tall, skinny, and handsome. He seemed to be totally unaware of my existence. I didn't see the kid until days later. He's tall like his daddy. I would not have known of his existence but for a sign in one of the apartment windows which proclaimed (boom) that a "(?) High School football player lives here" (and interestingly, a similar sign appeared at 7152 S. Franklin st. near the same time.) The sign was removed a few days later.
Concerning the newest form of radiation, DPR: Deep Penetration Radiation (if it exists) presents as a mild dull pain in the middle of the chest. Feels like it might be either heart pain or esophagus pain. It can also appear (tap) in the abdomen (boom), and other parts of the body like hands, feet, arms, and legs. Unlike the tingling, muscle-twitching, skin-crawling, pin-pricking, stinging radiations which are all surface phenomenon, this radiation is felt deeply only.
I first noticed DPRC (chest) more than a month ago, and it was always accompanied by a tap from above. Night after night there would be a tap, followed by DPRC. At first I thought it was a gas. But moving my body immediately removed the feeling (as it does with arms and legs). I concluded that it was a new form of attack. I thought it would kill me, eventually. When I felt it I would move. Soon I noticed that their aim was off: sometimes it was right of center; sometimes left. In order to eliminate heart problems I went for a strenuous (tap) bike ride. No heart problem presented itself. I tried just laying there to see if it would kill me. No joy. It was only somewhat uncomfortable, and intermittent. Another feature of DPR was that it appeared only in the absense of skin symptoms: no skin symptoms plus tap from above equaled DPR. I concluded that they had to change frequency to do DPR. But I have noticed within the last week that they can do DPR simultaneously with skin symptoms. I conclude that they have added new hardware.

(1)

I've heard her 'tinkle' many times of course, but she doesn't do that whizzing sound.
This is being written early due to Kaiser Permanente's flu shot schedule next Saturday (tap). I could never do a flu shot hungover.
EMR (ElectroMagnetic Radiation) reached obscene levels last night. They 'did' me from 8:45 PM (tap) until 3:45 AM. It was solid radiation of all types, including DPR (tap). I had gone to bed early because the previous night was also filled with heavy radiation. I managed to drift off from time to (thump) time, but not for long. Finally, at 0345 I got out of bed, got dressed, grabbed my camera and a flashlight and surprised Kootch at her computer. I told her, "If I'm not back in (boom) 30 minutes, call the cops." I then went outside to observe the building. Lights appeared (tap) off in both the apartment above and the apartment below. I then (tap) walked out to the parking lot and made my way to the far end. My target was a brownish van, one of the two vans used by the occupants who moved in downstairs (tap). The white van with rusted-out wheel wells disappeared immediately (thump) after I mentioned in my blog that the new occupants appeared to have been homeless. And since I am convinced that those folks are 'in on' these radiation attacks (thump) I thought I'd better get a photograph of the brown van before it, too 'disappeared.' I inspected it with the flashlight. Sure enough, it was obviously rigged to be lived in. I then took some photographs and made my way back to the apartment. Amazingly (boom), as I walked toward the East end of (tap) the building my attention was drawn to the apartment next to ours, 203. Somebody on the patio was making sounds apparently designed to attract my attention. I recognized her in the dim light: the woman next door. I said, "Good morning!" She said something like, "Yes, what a beautiful morning!" My tone was sarcastic but she apparently missed that. Four AM and she is out on the patio attracting my attention?! Very suspicious indeed.
I went back to bed in an attempt to get some sleep. The radiation continued until about 0600. Kootch woke me at 0700 as usual (tap), so that I could let her out, then secure the locks behind her. She listened, as usual, to the procedure in order to be sure I did it correctly. I woke up again at about 1030 in the midst of a TCR attack, which continued (tap) until about 1100 when I got out of bed. (I wake up very often in the midst of a TCR attack in the morning.)

(6)

Before leaving you tonight I need to commit (boom-boom) to some sort of visual (tap) follow-up next week (boom). I need to (tap) remind myself to do it. So this is my reminder to me when I read this again next week.
In the meantime, you need to blot out the following links both physically and spiritually (unless, of course, Jesus' death has already saved your dumb Jewish asses):
Wheeezzz! This woman pees outrageously while swinging on a rope. I must admit at this point that I never knew exactly where a woman's pee-hole was located before I looked it up on The Web. I was even too shy (boom) to ask Kootch. I became 'sexually aggressive' only after doing booze. In my old age I have learned to call attractive women, 'sweetie,' or 'honey,' but it's too late now. I should have learned that in my teens. Where were you when I needed you, uncle John?
Milk! I love that pic!
Do it like a man! Unless I am wrong, women envy the male ability to pee while standing. And concerning women peeing, I remember the unique sound of a woman peeing. My mother sounded like that. So did my sister(s). So did my girlfriend, Anne Bellinger! But I have never heard Kootch pee! That amazes me as I think about it now...

(5)
I see that you like me in spite of my philosophy. It is a sexual thing, believe me. You have given birth: You feel connected to god in a way not available to us males. You know something we don't know. Emotion precedes logic.
But us males know! We have examined the question in minute detail over the last 300 years or so. We admire you for your reproductive talents but we doubt your dedication to emotion over reason in the current context. It is a sexual thing, a sexual question: girls believe because they create, whereas boys can only initiate. Girls love the idea that they are like g-d in some sense, and we can't blame them. Boys enjoy the concept of cause and effect: they cause; you effect. This results in a disparate epistemology which is difficult to reconcile, but which is fascinating.
I explore this existential sexual difference every day when I decide which pair of panties to put on in the morning.

(4)

Kootch and I ate the leftover weenies yesterday. We had some leftover spaghetti sauce and so we baked (thump) the little suckers, then dipped them in the sauce before consuming them. Yuck. Even the very strong spaghetti sauce could not drown out the taste of those infernal Jewish weenies. Do not taste that dish!
I've discovered something new about radiation: there is soft radiation and then there is hard radiation. I was showing Kootch the ZC-185 reaction to our environment. Numerous hot spots impressed her, as she followed me around the apartment observing the device as it reacted to the environment.
I then put the ZC-185 into our 'colander' (a kitchen sieve used for draining pasta, among other recently cooked foods). Then I took the device on the same tour as she followed behind me. The device measured nothing when shielded by the colander. I claimed that the colander deflected microwave energy away from the device. Wrong.
She wondered what the device measured, exactly. I explained that the device measured the kind of radiation produced in her microwave oven. I then set up an experiment: I proposed to measure the radiation escaping from her microwave oven. I put a 'load' into the oven (a glass of water) then turned on the oven while we both watched the ZC-185. Nothing happened for the first second or two, then the needle almost pegged and the red LED lit up: EMR was escaping from the oven! Kootch was impressed.
I then explained that we were doing science here, and so we needed to repeat the experiment while we shielded the ZC-185 with the colander (being gassed here (tap). The colander failed to shield the device! The ZC-185 again responded as if there were no shield! The fucking colander did not deflect the radiation per my theory!
This result totally blew my credibility with Kootch, who immediately lost interest.
But I formed a new hypothesis!

(3)
That seems to be the meaning of Jesus' death. What is the meaning of Jesus' life? Hmm...
(I recently tried to research Fareed Zacharias' info using Google and was attacked by a Trojan which took my browser down. I had to do a 'system restore' to bring it back. For a while there I thought it would be a short night, and I was ready to abandon you all. Naughty me.)
I thought I had invented VOOT, but apparently not.
Do you pee in the shower? Congratulations, you're normal.
Do you feel guilty about it? Uh-oh, you're waaaaaay over-potty-trained.
Apparently, 'peeing in the shower' is the number one secret received at postsecret.blogspot.com (TODAY). I see this as proof that potty training creates conservatives of all stripes, all over the world: liberals pee freely; conservatives pee eventually.
The conservative mentality is necessary, of course, in order to limit the cultural chaos which would result from ordinary progress. It's a balance (between Liberal and Conservative) which serves our species well.
(Congratulations to Al Gore for winning the Nobel Peace Prize!)

(2)
Bill Moyers recently did a fascinating (tap) piece on the unholy Zionist alliance between Christians and Jews regarding Israel. (On his weekly PBS show, Bill Moyers Journal.) This is a must-view if you are at all a friend of humanity.

The Death of Chemistry is part of a new feature on PBS called, Wired Science. Apparently, the current zietgiest has killed the old fashioned chemistry set, and as a result Chemistry majors are down by two thirds in the US.

I love Jimmy Carter! He has recently called Dick Cheny, 'a disaster' and Giuliani, 'foolish.' I agree wholeheartedly with both pronouncements. Carter the Maverick?!

Fareed Zacharia (Foreign Exchange, PBS) recently did a brilliant piece with Selig Harrison on the possible coming attack on Iran. What a tragedy that would be.

Tom Lantos, Holocaust Survivor, recently discovered the Armenian Genocide, and has introduced a resolution condemning Turkey (our only Muslim NATO ally) for that historical event. So far so good. Problem is, Turkey, embarrassed at an inopportune moment in history, has recalled its ambassador for 'consultations' and Turkish troops are poised on the border with Iraq ready to invade our ally, Kurdistan, in order to punish Kurdish terrorists. Whew. Morality is more complex than I thought it was.


Ann Coulter never fails to entertain. I enjoyed her recent notoriety concerning her appearance on the 'Donny Deutsch show' where she proposed that Jews need to be 'perfected.' Eheh. That has been my impression too. Coulter and I differ concerning exactly how that process should be implemented, of course. Coulter sees Judaism as, 'Christianity 1.0.0' (I can go along with that, but my criticism of Judaism has more to do with personal history.) Coulter apparently tried to explain to Deutsch that C was an iteration of J, which made J obsolete. D interpreted C's explanation as A-S. So it goes. My impression of C's argument is this: 'You dumb-ass Jews had a bunch of commandments to follow and you failed, resulting in diaspora from the Promised Land.
Jesus came to your rescue, but you killed Jesus, idiots that you are. Jesus then saved us Christians instead. What does that mean? It means that we Christians can sin all we want, while you dumb Jewish bastards still have to follow all those stupid little rules in the Old Testament. You can't possibly do that, therefore you will all burn in Hell, while us Christians will bask in Heaven because of Jesus' death on the cross. Furthermore we will be able to watch you burn. Suck on that, Deutsch!'

(1)

Lots of notes tonight. I'll never get to all of them so I'll at least list them:
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Bill Moyers on CUFI
The death of chemistry
Jimmy Carter unleashed
Fareed Zacharia - Selig Harrison
Tom Lantos stumbles upon an embarrassing genocide
Ann Coulter incarnate
VOOT suit
Who doesn't pee in the shower?
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Then there's tonight's Link Dump:
The Smoking Gun. This is tragic, of course, butt at the same time hilarious. A Christian reverend becomes involved in 'an auto-erotic mishap' and dies as a result of 'accidential mechanical asphyxia.' My reading of the report indicates to me that there must have been an accomplice, but none is suggested in the report. Did he really do it all by himself!? Whoa! Fetishes can be dangerous...
Interesting maps of Europe (via The Presurfer)

(4)

Music Box Dancer, by The Wiggles. Awesome.

(3)

I love that question: is immortality a good idea? Maybe not! We don't know yet. We need to do further investigations.
I've discovered YouTube. A recent feature on PBS (The War) reminded me of an old favorite: Lili Marlene. The German version reminds me of my illicit love affair with a German woman while I was stationed on 'The Goose' (Goose Bay, Labrador). She was as beautiful as Kootch. We discussed a possible merger. The idea failed when I weighed the two (plus offspring) against each other. Her name was (tap) Eleanor Lainer and she was from Munich. I loved her also.
I had another affair with a yum-yum from philadelphia back in 1966 or 1967. She was a twenty year old virgin who wanted desparately to get fucked, and had recently lost 30 pounds or so toward that objective. I gave her a proper introduction to sex, which she appreciated very much. She was a cutie. But she eventually began to phantasize that she could move to Denver and become my illicit lover. I knew that would not be good for her and I rejected her idea in a most straightforward way. She cried. But she baked me a cake before I left Philadelphia. I don't remember her name. I am sure that I launched her into the sexual world in a most appropriate sexual manner. My most intense memory of sex with her was when we did it in her home while her parents were asleep. Afraid of impregnating her I pulled out at the moment of orgasm. She 'took over' with her hand and I ejaculated all over her belly. She was amazed as I squirted it all over her. Our song was 'Doctor Zhivago' (tap): I had told her (while she was still a virgin) to 'wear pink nylon panties' on our next date. She did. In fact, when we met somewhere in the city for that date, she looked around, then pulled her dress up above her waist: she was wearing pink nylon panties! She lost her virginity that night. We were dancing. I said, 'Let's go out to the car and make love!'
She immediately headed for our table, grabbed her purse, then led me outside. We did it in the back seat in the parking lot.

(2)

I love the idea that we are composed of elements, which elements were created many years ago in the bowels of ancient stars. I love it that we now know (stomp) our 'composition.' We are a complex mess, element-wise. But we are much, much more.
Elements explain the surface (much stomping or wall-banging above) of our Humanity very well: we are composed of Hydrogen, Carbon, Calcium, Iron... And I could go on and on. Elements explain our 'materiality.'
We are what we are, physically (stomp). But what are we 'mentally?' Can the interaction of elements become so complex as to result in a new order of reality? A higher order? Consciousness? Obviously. This is astonishing but unavoidable: We are beings composed of elemental stuff, but our internal experience demands that complex chemical interactions - such as we understand them - produces... us. We would not be here otherwise. We understand how Nature produces our bodies. It's very clear. But How does Nature produce US? That is the mystery.
Many hints convince us that 'who we are' depends on how well our brains perform. We are our brains. Our brains manufacture us. We are the product of our brains. But our brains are composed of the above elements. Therefore we are ultimately elemental but somehow transcendent. How is that possible?
More important, does our 'transcendence' equal immortality?
The answer is, 'No.' Or, 'Yes.'
(Depending on what you mean. What do you mean by 'immortality?' Furthermore, is it really a good idea to be 'immortal?')

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Radiation update: Itching hands occur in the BR too, as was demonstrated this week. Also new, (tap) 'radiation welts' appear on the backs of both hands (BR only), not just the right hand. These 'welts' are small circular (approx. 1/4 inch diam.) swollen areas that itch while being irradiated. Both the swelling and the itching subside soon after (tap) radiation ceases. Interestingly, 'palm itch' can suddenly disappear in both hands simultaneously over a period of less than a minute. Abrupt changes in radiation intensity are unusual, but do happen occasionally. I've noticed the effect especially during TCR (teeth chattering radiation) where the TC effect can suddenly start or stop instantly, as if a switch were turned on or off. This has happened many times (tap).
Radiationwise, a new (tap) phenomenon is emerging: deep penetration radiation. I've been studying it for two or three weeks, now. It will be a while before I have enough confidence to do a description. (Presuming I survive!) (boom)

On that note (tap) here is this week's Link Dump:

This site predicts your personal life expectancy. (Seems, in my case, to be waaay optimistic.)
God talks to Bush. No doubt, G-d learned that particular form of expression from me.
The Abyss. Reminds me of a recent movie on TV: Memento. I saw part of it a few years ago in a local 'multi-theater' and recorded it on TiVo recently and watched the entire movie. The movie (and expecially the cited article) points out the value of memory. Memory is invaluable. We are memory. But it is possible to abuse memory by living in the past. Memory can also be oppressive. Sometimes it is better to forget.
Rhodiola Rosea: Healthful Herb.
Blog Action Day. I propose a new subject for next year: Acid Day!
You are made of this. But apparently there is much more to it.
Blogger Play (tap). Did my little Jewish weenies make the cut? Click on any image that you might want to explore further.
Speaking of which, tonight is the next iteration of spaghetti, and Kootch forgot to include them. It's just as well, I suppose, but I can't imagine either of us eating them in any other gastronomical context.