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Ffolkes,

“What is food to one man may be fierce poison to others.”

~~ Lucretius (95-55 BC) — De Rerum Natura, iv, 637 ~~

Day 5 015

    The choice of whether to write about the opening quote, or the picture that comes below it, can be a true conundrum, one I generally ignore in favor of my own silliness, or the random blather that so often marks these introductions. Today, I will choose the picture, one of my own, because of the thought that occurred to me as I viewed it this morning….

That thought centered on the church in the picture, surrounded, as it is, by the seemingly limitless row houses, each with its complement of flats and apartments, and each of those filled with a number of low-income Irish folks, who probably work in or around the water, attending the church on Sunday. I am struck, each time I look at these pictures of Cobh, the port town near the city of Cork, in Ireland, at the sheer opulence of the church, as opposed to the shabby houses that dot the hills all around it…

It makes a perfect example of what is wrong in our world, a place where the minds and efforts of the general run of men are focused more on the rewards they expect in the next life, and not on the problems we have in this one…. It makes a perfect visual metaphor for how we continue to have the same issues dog us, year after year, century after century, while we insist there is nothing wrong at all. The Asininnies and the Dogma Dogs have the population of the Earth so bamboozled, they will believe almost anything told to them, if it has the proper provenance, and is uttered by a talking head, either at the podium in church, or on a TV with a national flag behind them….

Ah me, I’ve stumbled again, haven’t I? Ranting before my coffee has settled in my tummy…. With nary a joke, nor a helpful cliche to smooth the way, I’ve no doubt already driven half my potential readers to another blog, without ever getting out of the intro section…. I must be an idiot, which would put me right into the same category with everyone else in the world wouldn’t it? Oh well, at least we didn’t sustain any serious injuries (unless y’all aren’t sharing with us….), or, for that matter, leave a trail of body parts behind us…. not yet, anyway. Nor do we plan to do so, unless, of course, we can’t avoid it…. Sometimes, the sight of the vehicle can cause a bit of panic among the denizens, and they’ll riot, but, as long as we maintain altitude, it won’t bother us….

I’ve about gotten to the desired point; in fact, we’re here. Since we have become more ruthless in our approach to these intros, it has made it easier, mostly, to get us where we need to go…. Well, mostly it just keeps us from getting off the track so far, but, that helps, too. For now, it’s enough to know, and to say, here we are, so, please hang on, while we navigate this rather tricky turn, right around the herd of peacefully grazing metaphorical logic bombs…. A beautiful sight, eh, what?…. Oops, better duck, ffolkes, low bridge a’comin’!….

Shall we Pearl?

“But the only way of discovering the limits of the possible is to venture a little way past them into the impossible.” — Arthur C. Clarke (1917- 2008) — Profiles of the Future (1962; rev. 1973) — “Hazards of Prophecy: The Failure of Imagination”

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Today’s video selection is another comic; this one is also a special kind of guy, like George Carlin. His approach is similar, but, entirely different, if you know what I mean…. If not, that’s okay. You’re gonna laugh anyway, because he’s funny as hell…. Enjoy, ffolkes….

Eddie Izzard – Dress to Kill

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“Time has only a relative existence.” — Carlyle (1795-1881)

I’m afraid a fresh rant is out of the question today…. I spent most of yesterday, right up until arising today, buried in intermittent, damn-near=intolerable pain, mostly in my hands, and shoulder joints, with some help from the hips and lower back, just to keep it interesting for me, I guess… It pretty well shot the whole day, after posting in the morning, an event made more difficult by the pain, for sure…. The act of typing has become a struggle, to get my thoughts down on the screen, while nursing the fingers through the aching to get it done…. Not as easy to do as to say/type, trust me….

So, nothing fresh today, but, I have time, so I’ll try to find something not too long…. Ah, perfect…. ‘Tis not a rant, for sure. ‘Tis just an old-school pearl, actually a Pearl, taken whole from the post for the listed day….. This was the original format of the Pearls of Virtual Wisdom (they have gone through at least three format transformations over the three-plus years on this site…); what you see here was the entire post for the date…. It isn’t a rant but it’s not bad, and it takes up the appropriate amount of space and time…. so be it…

From 8/22/2011, entitled, “A Different Sort of Hermaphrodite“:

Ffolkes,

This is definitely a different sort….it floats. Of course if it didn’t we’d just have to find one, of fix one, that would show the same characteristics. It’s a dirty, lonely job, but, somebody has to hate it, so why not us? It’s not as if they aren’t paying us well, right?…..And if it was so bad we couldn’t take it, it would just fall to someone who didn’t know the right way to hold one. So let’s have no more nonsense; just get in there and grab it by the toe and start twisting…..right? Alrighty then…..

The foregoing was brought to you with support from a grant by a local drug dealer with delusions of adequacy. He’s trying to buy his way into respectable society; we don’t think he’ll ever be accepted, but that is no reason we can’t take his money, since we’re doing something about all the lost souls he creates. We turn them into body slaves for sick old men and women who have never been treated for their bipolar disorder. It’s just another public service that we don’t much talk about, because it’s embarrassing to have everyone fawning over us. People sometimes have no dignity…….

Okay, enough fooling around, let’s get down to some serious literature……well, I guess we would, if I could think of something serious. Somehow this morning my brain is refusing to wrap itself around anything too heavy; hence the above two short paragraphs of…….hmm, well of whatever they are. Can’t seem to come up with a description, which isn’t surprising; it’s pretty far out in left field. I suppose we should come in out of the cold now, so with no further ado, I give you today’s Pearls of Virtual Wisdom. Remember to wash up afterward…..

“I once wanted to save the world. Now I just want to leave the room with dignity.” — Lotus Weinstock  (I can definitely relate…..)

“Cogito cogito ergo cogito sum — “I think that I think, therefore I think that I am.” — Ambrose Bierce, “The Devil’s Dictionary”

“He who has a WHY to live for can bear with almost any HOW.” — F. Nietzsche

“Just as a cautious businessman avoids investing all his capital in one concern, so wisdom would probably admonish us also not to anticipate all our happiness from one quarter alone.” — Sigmund Freud

“Genius is not a possession of the limited few, but exists in some degree in everyone. Where there is natural growth, a full and free play of faculties,  genius will manifest itself.” — Robert Henri

” — Bother!” said Pooh.  “Eyeore, ready two photon torpedoes and lock phasers on the Heffalump; Piglet, meet me in transporter room three.” — Smart Bee

So, I’m going to end on that note, so I can head down to the transporter room to see them off. Y’all take care out there……

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Once again, to avoid splashing on anyone else, here is one of my older poems…. Since it’s raining again today, we’ll go with this one…. It’s a bit early, since winter won’t officially begin for three more weeks, but, it’s appropriate to the day, and the way I feel about it…. or, hope to, at some point during the day….

An Old Man, Snoring….

Winter arrives with gusts of wind and rain,
  clover spreads green amongst the hedges.
Urban gardens quiver, and dream of spring again,
  gargoyles stoically crouch on corniced ledges.

Umbrellas sprout over heads shrouded and hatted,
  dotting the sidewalks in colorful profusion.
Urban denizens pose sketches, framed and matted,
  adding casual beauty to fill the illusion.

Hissing tires, swishing along with the wipers
  join nature’s orchestra smoothly, as percussion.
Dripping gutters sound gong tones, true pipers,
  a sudden roar of wind hushes all discussion.

Dreams of summer heat form the crux of desire
  as winter chills our souls from without.
Sitting in warmth, gazing into an imaginary fire;
  content to know spring will come, no doubt.

~~ gigoid ~~


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Sometimes, putting together a pearl of virtual wisdom becomes an exercise in patience, as well as a perfect real-time example of the old saw, that speaks of how the journey is often more illuminating, and/or satisfying, than the destination…. This took forfuckingever to get done; it’s fortunate that a) I’m retired, and b) I’m stubborn. Otherwise, it wouldn’t have come out as well as it did….

Of course, such a value judgments are perfectly useless, but, nonetheless remain inevitable; we’re all humans here, nothing of which we should be ashamed. In fact, that might just be a good summary of our destination today…. You tell me, if you feel you should; don’t let any subsequent guilt keep you from indulging yourself…. It’s all in good fun, right?…. Well, I’m having fun, so, y’all can do as you like… First, though, read this, and let yourself flow with it to its proper conclusion, whatever form that may take for you….

“To conduct great matters and never commit a fault is above the force of human nature.” — Plutarch (46-120 AD) — Life of Fabius

“Most people would rather give than get affection.” — Aristotle

“No man is rich enough to buy back his past.” — Oscar Wilde (1854-1900)

“What the meaning of human life may be I don’t know; I incline to suspect that it has none.” — H. L. Mencken

“Blessed are the forgetful:  for they get the better even of their blunders.” — Friedrich Nietzsche (1844-1900)

FRIENDLESS, adj.  Having no favors to bestow.  Destitute of fortune. Addicted to utterance of truth and common sense. — Ambrose Bierce, “The Devil’s Dictionary”

“If possible, try to find a way to come downstairs that doesn’t involve going bump, bump, bump, on the back of your head.” — Pooh in Winnie the Pooh A.A. Milne, English author (1882-1956)

Well, there you go…. I don’t think I could have said it better myself…. But, then, how can one not admire a man who wrote both Winnie the Pooh, and the world’s first, and perhaps ultimately, best, murder mystery? (The Red House Mystery)…. He also was a playwright, and poet….  Gotta love those polymaths, eh?….

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I think I’ll stop now; I don’t think I’ve got any more in me today. I will apologize in advance if I seem to disappear; I have a feeling I’ll be down and out much of the day, under the influence of copious quantities of pain relieving medicines…. SIGH…. Another day down the tubes, so to speak, though what the tubes may be, I haven’t a clue…. Ah well, that’s nothing new….. See y’all tomorrow, ffolkes…..

Y’all take care out there,
and May the Metaphorse be with you;
Blessed Be, dearest  Carole, Mark, and Theresa…
and everyone else, too…

When I works, I works hard.
When I sits, I sits loose.
When I thinks, I falls asleep.

Which is Why….

Sometimes I sits and thinks,
   and sometimes,
I just sits.

gigoid, the dubious

PLEASE STOP READING THIS MESSAGE NOW.

Kowabunga!


À bientôt, mon cherí….



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