General Interest

Coke, dope, and the NFL

Posted on December 14, 2017. Filed under: General Interest, Humor | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , |

For 50 years it was my favorite cold drink.

Then they changed the flavor and it became my least favored drink. They called it “new” Coke. To me, it was Pepsi-Coke. Only, I don’t care for Pepsi.

Then they changed it back to Old Coke, and, I resumed my adherence to that flavor.

I changed, so, I had to reduce my carb intake, and the switch to diet drinks was less than satisfying – including Diet Coke.

Then, they came out with Coke ZERO. Now we’re talking.  For years, it was my almost exclusive cold drink.

What do the dopes in the Coke-a-Cola Central Committee for the Criminally Insane go and do? RIGHT! Turned ZERO into New Coke which was Old Pepsi, which I did not, and STILL do not, care for.

I just gotta ask ya, Coca Cola Big Dogs: Are you still employing the very same egg-heads of the NEW COKE fiasco, or have you employed a completely new group of bone-heads?

FYI, Big Dogs: I DO NOT BUY YOUR PRODUCTS ANY MORE. Locally,  Kroger and Wal-Mart have put out their versions of COKE ZERO and I now buy their products as substitutes for your abandoned formula.

As for the NFL (a.k.a., the ‘Neeling Football League – who are probably glad I inserted the “dope and coke” thing into my Coca Cola diatribe), I can’t thank that bone-head, Kaspernack, and his sensationalist yellow-press media lackeys for sending me cold turkey into football withdrawal. I tune in for a sports event, and I get a political rally?

FU, NFL and the Yellow Press broadcast networks, for dis-addicting me from professional sports watching.  I watched one NFL game at the start of the 2017 season.  I have no compulsion to watch any game at all, now.

Since I couldn’t stand all that announcer drivel during football games, I frequently turned the TV to “mute” anyway. Now, I don’t even have to make that adjustment for self-satisfaction.


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Digital Vendetta

Posted on August 1, 2014. Filed under: General Interest, Technology | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , |

and I am not just paranoid.  They ARE out to get me!

Something old and nothing new.  I rough-drafted this article about 6 months ago, but, I’m still chaffed by those events, so I am completing it now as ointment on my nagging hot spots.

Your words for the day (my definitions, so there):

  • ‘pooned = harpooned; grievously wounded; irked to the max
  • lampooned = made fun of; grievously wounded; irked to the max
  • dissed = see lampooned

Apple:  The computer maker, not the fruit.  I can’t complain much about their products, since I have yet to own one.  “Why not?,” you may ask.  When I first started thinking about getting a computer about 15 years ago, I thought the iMacs had the most stylish appearance.  The price tag was stylish, too — about 3 times the cost of a PC, which I could also not afford.  I immediately wrote iMac off my present and future Christmas lists, since I knew the hardware was  almost identical to that of the less expensive (and less stylish) PC.  I mean, Apple didn’t use precious metals exclusively in the iMac, or they would have been the only computers thieves would have targeted.  And over the years, I have not bought Apple’s gimmick of marketing a “great” product as they start the clock and the hype for a better (albeit the same) “much-anticipated and improved” product — annually.

Microsoft:  Deleted my Starter Word 2010 program that came with their Jim-dandy new Win7 with a “critical” update that told me I had to buy the full Win7 Word at full price if I ever wanted to see my documents again.  Let’s hear a round of applause for the system reset option.  The critical update was persistent, though.  I had to go through the system reset routine 3 times before it gave up.

Microsoft (or maybe Hewlett/Packard):  My Jim-dandy new Win7 laptop by HP came complete with a jack rabbit cursor that jumps somewhere else on the document while I am typing, and sometimes when I just look at the screen.  My typing point jumps to wherever the idle mouse cursor is resting.

Microsoft:  Though happy with Windows XP, I finally gave in and got a Win7 laptop.  The price was right.  A few months later, Win8 made the scene.  The salt in that wound?  Win7 (which sucks) deep-sixed a number of features I liked on XP, while Win8 has features that resemble those in XP that I had become friends with, such as that floating portfolio that clicked so neatly when opened or closed.  I never learned to use it, but, I loved its being there, and it looked a lot more professional than all those “post-its” on my Win7 desktop.

MicrosoftLong suppressed irks.  Around year Y2K, this pioneering software developer went beyond Windows 98 with new programs.  Windows 2000, followed by Vista, and — in their dust — the finally-got-it-right-almost Windows XP.  There were more satisfied buyers of the XP than the one-night-stand Win2000 and Vista. Wave bye-bye to 2000 and Vista.

Microsoft:  Deja vu…   all…   over…   again.  All you purchasers of 2000, Vista, and XP, get your checkbooks over to that retail outlet and buy Windows 7…   no, Windows 8…   uh, no, Windows 8.1…   shatspah!  Reserve one of those Windows 9 units I am hearing about.

Quick question to MS:  Are you using Steve Jobs’ and Apple’s marketing ruse of designing a product then producing incomplete versions of it with a promise to add “new” (wink, wink) features (that you already designed into it) as an upgrade in each of the next 3 years?  If you do as good a job as Apple of hyping your much-anticipated “upgrade,” you can get the same schmucks to buy the same piece of hardware they already own next year with an “extra” in the software…   which could have been added to the unit in-hand electronically at no extra cost to the customer.

Kudos to the marketing masters at Apple for taking the Cabbage Patch Doll generation to the cleaners year after year.  They were ripe for it.

T-Mobile Electronic upgrade is what T-Mobile did to the “My Touch” unit I liked so much several years ago.  On a quiet Sunday night around 2:00 a.m., the screen message said — in effect — “Don’t touch nuthin’.  Your Android Ver. 2.0 is being upgraded to a newer version of Android.  We are in control.  You can have your new and improved phone back when we are done with it.”  …sigh!  If only that had been the case.  The brain enhancement they gave my little phone was a lobotomy.  T-Mobile techs worked with it for a week and finally decided it was brain-dead.  I had the sad duty of boxing it up in a casket and sending it back to T-Mobile, while greeting its less-than-acceptable free replacement, a Samsung Galaxy S.

There is more of this digital dissing of my horse-and-buggy mind-set, but, this is depressing me.  Soon, I will be heading over to the electronics store and see if the Windows 8.1 units are on sale.  That’s what will happen just before the next “newer and so much more improved” version comes out.  (Maybe they will throw in a vintage Cabbage Patch Doll that I can adopt.)




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Ignorance Got Me To 99

Posted on January 12, 2014. Filed under: General Interest, Nezza at Hella | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , |

This is my blog post number 99, and, who needs a stupid navigational chart anyway?

Your proverb for the dayIgnorance is bliss.

Captain Jack Sparrow (Disney fictional commander, Pirates of the Caribbean franchise) was a drunken sailor.  At first take, it appeared that his compass was afflicted with that very same character flaw — it spun wildly and never indicated geographic North.  When you finally realize that its erratic behavior was tied to a special property, it adds to Sparrow’s character:  the compass pointed only to what its possessor wanted most, which — in Sparrow’s case — was the lead female character.  Sparrow was not a mere 2-dimensional drunken sailor…   he was a multi-dimensional lecherous drunken sailor.

I am the fictional commander of this literary vessel, Words according to Dean (a.k.a., The Queen Mary), possessing little literacy in internet navigation.  My erratic course through the past 2 years and 98 articles has been guided by a compass that seems to point only to “poetic license.”  It doesn’t add any dimensions to my character, but, Sparrow-like, I have relied on its navigational irrelevance to steer my headings.  Hmmm!  …that implies that I had a charted heading in the first place

which I did not.  I did, however, set out to accomplish one thing:  remember how to write.  That mission, I think, has been accomplished, even though I do not see Ernest Hemingway when I look in the mirror…   nor Stephen King or Tom Clancy.

But, not important, since I have pleased my biggest fan:  ME!  That is not an inflated ego speaking, simply acknowledgement that the entire workings of the Cosmos are ultimately important to only one entity — the one perceiving those workings in relation to itself.  While garnered with little premeditation, these ramblings do form a platform of sorts from which to launch my second 100 postings…   those wishing to jump ship now, please line up in orderly fashion at the life boat stations.  Don’t want to panic the other passenger.

An essay collection would best describe these presentations — some facts, some references to events, often exaggerated or minimized to accommodate my curious, but, essentially cynical, quest for the big ANSWER.  Yes, Neo, I too, want to know the nature of the Matrix (a reference to the Matrix movie trilogy), but, there is no reason NOT to have fun along the way.

I have not attempted to monetize or advertise this blog or make it more visible on the web.  Mostly, because I  r-e-a-l-l-y don’t know how.  To put it in a more personally flattering light, I have passively and actively hidden my work because of personal motivation.  Either way, that begs the question…

HOW AND WHY HAVE SO MANY (…more than 10…) FOUND THE SITE AND HIT THE “FOLLOW” BUTTON?  Was it just late nights with Red Bull, Folgers, Earl Grey, or “Auntie” Sophie’s special brownies guiding such questionable choices?   …maybe even a game of “truth or dare” gone horribly wrong?  I ask, but, I don’t really want to know.

Ignorance in this matter is bliss, since it allows me to fantasize that there are discerning denizens out there who have fought their way through the internet jungle to sample my insightful, inspirational, spot on, even amusing offerings…   ohhh, yeahIgnorance is bliss.

Special mention to a trio of commenters:

  • Nezza, quite the global gad-about from Sydney, Australia, by way of San Francisco, simply because she blew me away with her impeccable use of English and her self-deprecating style of getting a chuckle…   okay, it was her picture that grabbed my attention firstNezza@Hella Sydney is the pixie dust that will take you to her Neverland.
  • John and Tanya Voorhees, folk musicians, who felt that my article The Story is Everything resonated with their own lyrics titled also “The Story Is Everything.”
  • gave me a total surprise by re-blogging my English:  Gerunds, Fantasy, and the Splits.  mssheilasu, I owe you a re-blog…   as soon as I figure out where those buttons are.
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Smoke and Mirrors

Posted on February 18, 2013. Filed under: General Interest, Journalism | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , |

2nd in the series The Manipulators

Your old saw for the day:

  • What’s good for the goose is good for the gander

Your words for the day (definitions my way):

  • migrate = the tendency of life forms to follow a repeating pattern of movement
  • immigrate = the regulated movement of life forms from one area to another
  • invade = the unregulated movement of life forms from one area to another
  • bias = to display partiality toward one thing over another
  • favoritism = obvious bias
  • The Big Pee = The Press (all news media)

Now, we gotta play catch up.  Last post, I left you skulking at the border trying to catch a break.  To draw a clear parallel between the treatment of US citizen criminals and non-citizen criminals, here is a list of the crimes illegal entrants are willing to commit:

  1. Violate United States immigration law.
  2. Violate United States customs law.
  3. Falsify official identity documents.
  4. Falsify government documents whenever necessary to look legal.
  5. Engage in criminal conspiracies to evade US authorities at the point of entry and in the ongoing tenure of illegal occupancy.
  6. Endanger minors (children) by transporting them through dangerous terrain and situations in this illicit search for a better life.
  7. Criminally trespass onto the private property of bona fide US citizens, using it as though it were theirs, vandalizing and stealing the unattended personal property of the land owner.
  8. Falsify United States federal and state documents to acquire government benefits illegally.
  9. Criminally conspire with friends or relatives to assist in their efforts to evade detection and ejection and to acquire benefits that they are not entitled to have.  Those friends or relatives are co-conspirators in the criminal lifestyle of the illegal entrant, whether US citizen or previous legal immigrant or illegal entrant.

This list is very similar to that for which US citizens get excoriated (previous post).

But, it’s alright, Brazen Criminal.  Your advocate has your back.  The Big Pee will cover (up) your criminal acts as though they are simply incidental occurrences in your quest for a better quality of life.  It will gloss over your persistent, daily acts of criminal conspiracy to defraud the US government, and your criminal falsification of government documents in your quest for a better quality of life (that phrase has a humanitarian and oh-we-do-so-understand-you ring to it).  It will focus on the cruelty “to undocumented immigrants” by human smugglers who pack 30 adults and 10 children into a locked cargo container, but fail to call attention to the illegal 30 adults’ disregard for the safety of children while dragging them across hundreds of miles of dangerous terrain in the presence of dangerous criminals.  It will categorize your tendency to grab 13-year olds for sex (you call it “marriage”) as excusable on the grounds that “it is a custom prevalent where you came from.”

Conversely, The Pee rains vehemence on US citizens for unavoidable child endangerment, marginal statutory rape, shading the truth to get government benefits, alleged sexual assault of a minor, then perfunctorily signs off on the resultant PRISON TERMS for these heinous US citizens…   they had it coming!

Can anyone out there define “double standard?”  If you need refreshment on that, it is a lot like “speaking with fork-ed tongue.”   (Hmmmm…   How about “sleight of tine?”  Sorry.  Just wandering a little.)  Why would The Big Pee practice that?   …just simply playing to the audience (that be us)…   and the panel of judges overseeing the in-house self-lauding Pulitzer committee.  And, let’s not leave out the watchful eyes of judges in a slew of local and national media “ain’t we the living end” contests.  Out here in the land of irrelevance, we all fancy ourselves as possessing moral superiority over our neighbor.  We just have to have a cause to rally around, either mentally or actively.  The Big Pee‘s got causes down to a science.

Do you need an example of my assertions?  No problem.  Let’s look at Jenny Stonebottom’s story (The Houston Chronicle, January 16, 2013) of a callous bureaucracy and a victimized illegal occupant.

Next up:  If it looks like a duck…

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I Lost A Penny

Posted on August 30, 2012. Filed under: Alzheimer's, General Interest, Memories | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , |

Drat!  I know it was here.  I tossed all those coins on top of the dresser when I came in.  A penny.  Something different about it caught my eye.  Wanted to examine it a bit closer when I got home.  Was it the date?  The color?  Some surface damage?  Was it even a penny?  Can’t remember which.  Ah, check the pants’ pockets; maybe it’s still in there.  Nope!  But, there is a worn spot in the pocket fabric.  Crap!  A hole big enough for it to fall through — and, the two dimes that I got with it.  Checked around the dresser; nothing.  Back-tracked my trail through the house to the car in the driveway.  Nothing.  Oh, well.  Just another memory that slipped away.  There’ll be other pennies and dimes.

Just another memory that slipped away.  Later, my mind  played with that thought.  One memory lost; others to be gained.  And, I thought of my Aunt J.

Years ago, in an “in-progress” manuscript (alluded to in a previous posting) I was considering the nature of SELF.  My conclusion, that the concept of “self” was the MIND’s answer to that persistent problem of MEMORY, should be no surprise to anyone.  We are what we remember we were.  And, I thought of my Aunt J.

The concept of SELF is a sense of personal continuity.  But, how can there be a sense of continuity when there is only one moment in TIME of which we are ever aware, that little slice of EXISTENCE that we call NOW?  Where is continuity?

The sentient MIND is a creative organizer, and its answer to quantifying the clutter of “NOW piled on NOW” is…   YESTERDAY.  In that folder, all things past could be sequenced by event chronology, and, their impact on the NOW being experienced could be assessed.  Except that…   assaying creates another problem:  projections.  Having a continuous file of YESTERDAY to compare to NOW requires someplace to put the possible answers.  MIND then created a speculative file of projections labeled TOMORROW.

Yesterday.  Now.  Tomorrow.  The chain of continuity of “self.”  We don’t have to think about it; it’s all automatic.  In an instant, the MIND experiences, records, compares and projects events and their implications to our own fragile existences.  We accept it as a complete whole, a story with a beginning, middle, and an ending.  Yet, the only part of it that is real is NOW.  Everything else is fabricated

Life, whether real or fabricated, is the realm in which we exist, and MEMORY is the coin of that realm.  Our senses collect information, and short-term memory mints a shiny new coin to record the data, even installing hyperlinks to connect it to previously minted coins.  Then, it is carefully stored in a cyber-pocket wove on a warp of reality into a wondrous fabric — the biological neural net.  Through Life we stroll, listening to the jingle of those coins as they jostle about in our pockets, often reaching into the pocket, pulling out a coin, and considering it within its context as if it were NOW.  And, I thought of my Aunt J.

Some of us reach into the pocket in search of a coin that we know just has to be there, but, we can’t put our fingers on it.  We can find coins we know were acquired with it, but, the one we want cannot be located…   and, it never will be found, because that wondrous neural net has a tear in it, one that will grow ever larger.  One by one, the coinage of SELF will trickle away, leaving neither the certainty that is YESTERDAY nor the hope that is TOMORROW.  What is left is one lonely, confused entity trapped in NOW with neither identity nor landmarks, and destitute of the coinage that will buy fare to…   somewhere…???

I have known only three persons in my life who suffered through Alzheimer’s:  my best friend’s mother, a sister-in-law’s mother, and my Aunt J.  By way of that last sentence, they remain just as anonymous to you as they became to themselves.  As circumstance and distance would have it, I was not privy to their suffering; yet, just knowing of their journeys into that twilight is disconcerting.  How awful it must be for those who are designated to escort loved ones from a full, complete existence into that shadow world of confusion, self-doubt, anger, and — eventually — personal oblivion.

What point, this article?  None, really.  Just an observation about the fragility of personal existence and how that existence is often defined by creative illusion…

…and the unspoken beauty of those whose existences have defined each of us.  And I think of my Aunt J.

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Reverence For Life

Posted on August 27, 2012. Filed under: General Interest, Philosophy | Tags: , , , , , , , |

“Flower in the crannied wall, I pluck you out of the crannies…”  Alfred, Lord Tennyson (c) 1849   All rights reserved.

Yeah, that was a long time ago, so I guess that copyright has expired by now.  So, I’m not going to ask for written permission from the author to use it.

I was only reminded of the verse because I thought about taking some pictures of flowers (specifically, orchids) to spice up my, heretofore, rather bland presentations.  Refreshing myself on the wording of that little ditty, I checked on my smart phone (at least something associated with me is smart) and saw the question “what does that poem mean?” queried on  The answer that posted was, “The poem is about depression and disconnect of oneself.”

to which my unsophisticated approach to life queried, “Huh?  Say what?  Didn’t they even read the thing?

So, we got this dude out for a stroll, and he scopes a flower growing out of a brick or stone wall.  In one of the shallow, dirt-filled cracks, I gather.  It entrances him.  Moves in for a better look, he  does.

Eyeball-to-petal-and-stem, he considers this wonder before him.  “Wow!” he is thinking.  “The existence of such a thing as this is totally amazing.”  Oh, sure, you see plants growing everywhere all the time;  it is all so commonplace.  But, this one former seed has taken root in a nutrient-starved, precarious spot and made a life for itself in defiance of all the odds.  And, in triumphant bloom, it announces to a hostile world, “I WILL SURVIVE.”

How can you get “depression” and “disconnect” from all that?  From the perspective of the strolling dude, reverence for such a thing of beauty would seem to be the poem’s theme…   wait a minute.  What is that fool doing?  No.  NO!   …he   …he   …he just ripped that tiny success story out of that crack by its roots.  It’s going to die before it can realize its dream!  What is he saying now?   “…if I could understand what you are, root and all, all in all, I should know what God and man is.”

Why do I suddenly feel depressed and disconnected?


Next up:  We’ll play it by ear (but, I warn you, I’m tone deaf)

Just in case anyone is interested, I still have a few more posts on  The Great Cluster Fu…   I just need a short break to regroup.

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Digressions: MIM4.5a – A Very Special Lady

Posted on July 8, 2012. Filed under: General Interest, MIM4.5a | Tags: , , , , |

Your word for the dayetch = to leave a clear and distinct impression

Water, one drop at a time, striking a rock in the same place over an extended period, will etch a pattern into it.  The water, though soft, is persistent; the rock, though hard, must acquiesce.

With my inner sanctum closed for business, I permitted only superficial relationships or contacts with others.  No more need for spiritual anesthetics and bandages.  And, then

At my new day job (one that paid) some years ago, I and two colleagues (also new) were in the building lobby when one of the veteran employees came in.  I supposed she was waiting to meet someone, but, after a bit, I spoke to her.  She responded with a smile and a twinkle in her eye.  My colleagues joined in, and, for about 5 minutes, we interrogated our cornered quarry without letup.  But, she was genial, catching every volley and returning each with that twinkle and (…amused?) smile.

That encounter left me with an enduring picture.  This Lady of the Lobby was at ease, and in no way intimidated by our persistence.  Her easy demeanor and steady gaze shouted self-assurance.  That got my attention, but, I think that first drop of MIM landed on me, right there in that lobby, the instant I learned that she was the adventurer that I had always dreamed I would be — a major part of her duties took her to exotic destinations around the world.  The best I could muster in the exotic travel circuit was a stint in Bangkok, Thailand, and the most in commonality I could offer was knowledge of the big traffic circle in the middle of that city.  She was strong of character, and living my dream.  From the get-go, I was going to be an easy target for that slow drip.   

Wonder no further about my frequent references to wines from Georgia (the country, not the state);  it’s because she expressed a liking for them.

In the several years since the lobby event, my interactions with this Lady were very sparse, consisting mostly of “good mornings” and a brief update on where she had traveled, and there was a running joke on my rainmaking “skills.”  For the most part, her movements through my field of awareness were like a vagrant ray of sunshine on a partly cloudy day, appearing when and where it deigned.  When the ray moved on, I never chased it; I knew, without a doubt, it would find me again in its own time and share its warmth, even if it was, typically, for only a couple of minutes once a week.  The best things are worth waiting for.

WOE IS ME!  Social isolation and the avoidance of my traitorous emotions failed to protect me — I became addicted to the certainty of my sun ray’s very brief appearances.  But, business is dynamic; it changes.  Workplace convenience removed my sunshine.  Break out the Ronstadt CD.

I consoled my loss with a little research, which shed a different light on that first lobby encounter.  In the big, corporate scheme of things, those three nosy interrogators were at the bottom of the corporate food chain — field mice, as it were.  I had seen a couple of my pay stubs, so, I already knew that, but, I didn’t know that our “cornered” quarry was, in comparison, a corporate eagle.  A daunting disparity.

That research pointed out just how special this Lady is.  Neither in that lobby nor any conversation she ever had with me, did she talk down to any of us.  SHE RESPECTED US.   The other kicker is, I never knew just what her job duties entailed.  I knew her title, just not how it was applied.  Turns out, she has considerable responsibility for corporate assets, a responsibility that is ever-present and entailed an absolutely killer travel schedule.  And, the part that makes me really proud to have known her?  She doesn’t report to an “office” office.  The best description would be shark tank.  That easy smiling, lady-in-the-lobby-with-a-twinkle-in-the-eye, is a corporate shark handler…   business sharks, legal sharks, government sharks.  Equal opportunity handling.  Judging from her tenure, a damn good one, too.  There is no doubt that she found those three little field mice quite amusing.  My Lady of the Lobby, “special” doesn’t begin to describe you.

Elan.  Strength.  Endurance.  Of such is the motivator that I call MIM.

Through no action from either of us, she is etched into me in that deep recess where I will not allow anyone to be.  Not even myself.  There are emotions in there that can totally overwhelm.  So, I’ll just pull up a chair here, outside that forbidden room…   just in case a random ray of sunshine escapes…   I sure don’t want to miss that.   Hmmmmm…   maybe just a little closer…

Yeah, I know.  I’m a pathetic mess.  But, somehow, I’ve never felt better.

Next up:  Resuming The Great Cluster Fu…

Stand by, Sparky!  Comin’ your way.  Oh, and when you’re done with Doyle’s boots, could you do mine?  Good boot-licks are hard to find.

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Digressions: Where No Foot Has Trod

Posted on July 2, 2012. Filed under: General Interest, MIM4.5a, Philosophy | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , |

Your word for th daymuse = someone who is a source of inspiration

The old Greeks had them. Muses, I mean.  In earlier posts, I touched on them, even if somewhat irreverently.  For the Ancients, they explained what moved that most remote recess of Self, the mysterious Psyche, to elicit from it the creative urges and even the dark manifestations that we call the  human spirit.

For most of my life, I didn’t have a Muse.  But, I had a love of poetry, so I guess you could say that Erato was my nominal, default Muse.  In verse, I could take “the road less traveled,” and “rise with eagles” to “touch the face of God.”  By finding reflections of my own inexpressible feelings toward this torture we call Life, it gave comfort that I had fellow travelers on a journey I just knew would, somehow, end badly.  But, what the heck…   eat, drink, and be merry…   right?

In spite of the Muses, in spite of the poetry, not all that emanates from the Psyche is definable.  There is the unexplained, a pathos that darkens the soul, a heaviness that ensconces the heart making its every beat a Herculean task.  An aching that surges to unbearable fullness, then ebbs, only to surge again; a vast emptiness that hovers just beyond feeling, where echoes fade like  diaphanous whispers into infinite nothingness. 

A poem I memorized decades just a few years ago often surfaces during my own musings.  The third verse of Each in His Own Tongue by William Herbert Carruth (1859-1924) captures that feeling; at least, it has for me:                     

Like tides on a crescent sea beach, when the moon is new and thin, into our hearts high yearnings come welling and surging in;  come from the mystic ocean, whose rim no foot has trod.  Some call it longing, and others call it God.

Yearning.  Longing.  A deep, aching feeling devoid of anything that could define it.  When all is said and done, is this the total eulogy that Life will intone for each of us?

Next up:  MIM4.5a

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I Was Getting Worried, Sydney

Posted on May 31, 2012. Filed under: General Interest |

Your man fan, Dylan, summed it up nicely, as I, too, was becoming concerned by your absence.   In those days since you ruined my smart-phone (didn’t do me a lot of good, either), I’ve been checking in to see what delight you had crafted just for me.   Okay!   …for me and all those others who found you before I did.   You weren’t posting every day, but that was just great, ’cause that made every new visit tingle with anticipation of diligence rewarded.   I just marvel at how you manipulate the King’s English.   ?Maybe that should be the Queen’s English?

Needles!  Really?  Voluntarily?  For 25 days?  Your words are hurtful, but, your offering of that blue bikini pic (J-Wowww) I accept as your sincere apology. 

Your contribution to the enjoyment of life is a real treasure.  Thank you for being you (whoever the heck that is), and, the best of success in keeping all the other aspects of your life on track.  A happy Nezza is a writing Nezza.  And, a writing Nezza is a happy me.  (She’s still at nezza@hella Sydney.)

Next up:  Prelude to The Great Cluster Fu…

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Cynicism Redux

Posted on March 25, 2012. Filed under: General Interest, History, language | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , |

All hands on deck…   All hands on deck…   All hands on deck!

What we got here is an OFFICIAL COMPLAINT from a (gasp!) bona fide reader.  She is Mary**** @ some college.  Mary****, who found the RSS and Comments feeds before I did, checked “follow future comments,” an action she now deeply regrets.  Seems she is now innundated with multiple emails of the same comment.  She wishes to “unfollow” them, but, I don’t know how that is done.  Thus, this appeal to blog spammers.  (I know this doesn’t help you, Mary****, but, I have over 300 such comments to winnow through and delete, all arriving in the last two weeks.)

Geeze, people, didn’t you see my post where I said I’m highly skeptical of everything?  For example:  There is a recent television ad about quitting something-or-other, and the happy convalescent brags, “I quit something-or-other in just 2 weeks on this program.”  The Program Voice cheerfully chimes in and says, “Yes!  We’ll send you a free 30-day supply just so you can try our successful program.  If you like your results, we’ll sell you more of this stuff.”  See, right there, doubts creep in.  Look at the time-line:  2 weeks after starting that free program, I am cured of my malady.  I now have 2-weeks’ worth of free snake oil left.  The seller has given me a month’s supply, and I’m not going to buy any more because I am cured.   How is the seller going to make money to pay for that television ad?  Surely, the advertiser is not lying about quick results.

Look, all you virtual stowaways, I read that book on blogging for money tips.  I know about back-links.  I know you can do them manually, as in an honest reply to WHAT YOU ACTUALLY READ, or you can get a plug-in to your blog to mass produce “relevant comments” to other blogs.  It’s okay, I mean a few of them sounded genuine, but, I got wise when I read the identical comment three times in succession with only slightly different URLs.  Also, thanking ME for the USEFUL information in the OMG postings was another give away:  those two postings contain NO information, useful or otherwise.  I know, because I WROTE THEM.  Please, for mine and Mary****’s sakes, take your comment blaster and set it to SEMI automatic.  And, take aim before you fire so your comment sorta matches the “awesome” posting your spam machine detected. 

Can’t hurt either to set your timer to about 100 seconds before your “new post” detector detects a new post.  Really, it’s just another clue to spamming when, 45 seconds after I hit “publish” my smart phone alerts me to an e-mail that Yo-Yo Spin liked my post and thought it was awesome.  (I hope there is no one out there calling him-/herself “Yo-Yo Spin.“) 

Next up:  To Be Announced (That’s not the subject, just a note that I haven’t decided yet.)

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