# TODAY I AM THANKFUL FOR SLEEP.

When everyone sleeps, the combined weight of billions of heavy eyelids pulls the sun down, and that's why we sleep at night, or that’s why it is night while we sleep. Science doesn't know. Sleep researchers say stuff, I suppose, but I'm too lazy to look that up right now.

If everyone stayed awake at the same time, all of the open eyes would use up all the sunlight, and the sun would burn out, and no one wants that. The stars shine for those who stand the watches of the ungodly hours, and those who fret and lie awake and yearn for the solace of sleep.

I am thankful for the one thing we all agree on, besides breathing and food: sleep. CEOs and drifters are equalized for a few hours. Their material things are equally uselessness. Muslims, Christians and Jews, all believe, for a few hours, nothing, and are at peace. No one is so busy, hateful, or stupid to not sleep.

I am thankful for the death rehearsal.
I am thankful for the ultimate peace before the ultimate peace.
I am thankful for the innocence of unconsciousness.
I am thankful for temporary oblivion before permanent oblivion.
I am thankful for sleep. The universal reset. The snuggled snooze of billions of temporarily harmless souls.

When we dream, our relaxed brains pick up the thoughts of people on the other side of the planet because of gravity and earthworms, and that's how thoughts are recycled, so we do some of the stuff people ran out of time for on the other side of the earth. But what about the excess dreams? The moon acts as a sponge to soak up all the dreams. That's why there are dark spots on the moon. Those are dreams. The moon is held up by dreams, and it scoots—moved by the same force that moves Ouija board thingies—to the edge of the sky at some point because the sun is waiting to come up, and they have this awkward thing (they used to date) so she hides whenever he shows up, although everybody thinks they should get back together, but—oh, it's a whole thing, I'm not going to rehash it—so anyway, the story is that the moon goes down to make room for the sun. When you see the moon during the day, that means somebody is taking a nap and slacking off!

By now you're wondering, what does this have to do with our 34th President? Well, as you know, in the 1950s, everything was in black and white. (That's why photos from that time are black and white. duh) and we dreamed in color. Well not anymore. Not after our 34th President. Coincidence? You decide.

TODAY I AM THANKFUL FOR SALTINE CRACKERS

Saltine crackers are delicious. They are good under sardines, smoked oysters, little squares of cheese, ham, jalapeno peppers, and peanut butter. The "manna from heaven," in the bible was packages of saltines. The "ambrosia," in Greek mythology was also saltine crackers. Saltine crackers have thirteen holes in them. Saltines later went on to become our 34^th President.

TODAY I AM THANKFUL FOR THE HIVEMIND

The Hivemind is everywhere. It watches us. It connects us. It keeps us safe. It sells us products. It fixes our spelling. It forgives our bad grammar. It shortens our focus. It guesses our intentions. It predicts our actions. It helps us remember birthdays. With the Hivemind, we are never alone. We think about it when we are not participating in it, and we bask in its glow when we connect with it. It gives us a feeling of accomplishment. The Hivemind was developed in the sixties. When someone "likes" something we have done, it stimulates the nucleus accumbens,[1] and who doesn't want the nucleus accumbens stimulated? Am I right ladies? And gentlemen? lol.

It gave us "lol."

With the Hivemind, all information is accessible. Communication is instantaneous. We are all one with the Hivemind. The Hivemind is safe, non addictive, and provides accurate, non-biased information at all times. The Hivemind is the brainchild of our 34^th President. *

-------------------

1.  http://healthland.time.com/2013/08/31/this-is-your-brain-on-facebook/

* by pure coincidence, this is sort of true.

# TODAY I AM THANKFUL FOR "EVERYTHING SUBTLE, COMPLEX, ABSTRACT, AND PROFOUND"

I am thankful for a thousand forgotten Thursdays. I am thankful for unobserved dew covered spider webs on spring mornings near dilapidated barns. I am thankful for routing tables, IP addresses, the unrecorded thoughts of Shakespearean characters, the question of existence vs. non-existence, and medieval drawings of imaginary creatures. I am thankful for unheard trees falling in remote forests. I am thankful for languages I won't know, religions I won't follow, and various kinds of welding. I am thankful for engineering and medicine. I am thankful for the violins in the song "Kashmir." I am thankful for the sighs of aging strangers on distant continents. Empty sunlit afternoon sidewalks. I am thankful for untaken photographs and the airy space in the lower boughs of well formed trees. The unspoken names of all the sparrows in the world. I am thankful that somewhere, someone is being born who I will never know, who will live out a complex, unique life and never know that you or I or anyone reading this ever existed. I am thankful for the smell of library books. I am thankful for weekday waves on deserted Caribbean beaches. I am thankful for questions about free will and determinism. I am thankful for the Latin terms for rare medical conditions. I am thankful for slide rules, multiplication tables, old tide charts, almanacs, and forgotten hand-silhouette turkeys in Big Chief tablets. I am thankful for the pretentious hackwork of listing unrelated things, and the calculated cowardice of false humility. I am thankful for half remembered phrases of classical music. I am thankful for the souls of forgotten spreadsheets and the sad memories of empty filing cabinets. I am thankful for dust motes in sunbeams in for-lease office spaces. I am thankful for the forgotten chance genius of drunks and stoners. I am thankful for solitary nuns in desolate suburban afternoon churches. I am thankful for thirty-year-old copies of TV Guide in abandoned Arizona desert doublewide trailers. I am thankful for the olfactory scheme of dogs, the Dewey Decimal System, and scientific discoveries that will happen a thousand years from today. I am thankful for comedy sketches yet unwritten. I am thankful for unwanted glass knick-knacks in Goodwill and Salvation Army stores. I am thankful for new music I will never appreciate. I am thankful for changing fashion and geologic time. I am thankful for esoteric terms used by pompous wine tasters. I am thankful for Euclidean geometry and the Earth's rotation. I am thankful for tinnitus and the DNA damage theory of aging. I am thankful for the New York Stock Exchange, solar flares, and whatever is beyond observable space. I am thankful for the failures and achievements our 34^th President. I am thankful for quiet moments of contemplation happening everywhere. I am thankful for "everything subtle, complex, abstract and profound." I am thankful for the countless things and unthings for which I am unaware that I should be thankful.

-----------------------

Full disclosure: the phrase "everything subtle, complex, abstract and profound" is lifted directly from the Epilogue of a book:

Dobelli, Rolf. The Art of Thinking Clearly. New York, Harper Collins, 2013. Print 

TODAY I AM THANKFUL FOR "CALLING IT IN"

Today I am thankful for not having to be over the top every day. Sometimes you can't always bring your "A" game, you know? Sometimes you just need to take it easy and coast a little. It's a long month. Gotta pace yourself. I'm thankful for being able to "half-ass" it once in awhile, and no one really noticing. Don't want to burn out halfway through. You know who else knew this? Our 34th President.

TODAY I AM THANKFUL FOR CHICKEN

Chicken comes from stores and restaurants, and can be found in various shapes and configurations. Nugget chickens are raised at various smaller stores that sell hot food. I am thankful for chicken because chicken is the default "meat" taste. When viewing sporting events, chicken becomes naturally spicy. Chicken is an important part of the food triangle. Chicken is important to me because without chickens, we would have no eggs. Without eggs, there would be no scrambled eggs, or cake, or scrambled cake. Also, I am thankful for eggs, because without eggs, there would be no chicken, and without chicken, there wouldn't be LARGE CHICKEN (LC) otherwise known by its street name, "turkey." No turkey, no Thanksgiving. Also, chicken went on to become our 34th President.

TODAY I AM THANKFUL FOR YOU!

Why? Because you have a great need for other people to like and admire you. You have a tendency to be critical of yourself. You have a great deal of unused capacity which you have not turned to your advantage. While you have some personality weaknesses, you are generally able to compensate for them. Disciplined and self-controlled outside, you tend to be worrisome and insecure inside. At times you have serious doubts as to whether you have made the right decision or done the right thing. You prefer a certain amount of change and variety and become dissatisfied when hemmed in by restrictions and limitations. You pride yourself as an independent thinker and do not accept others' statements without satisfactory proof. You have found it unwise to be too frank in revealing yourself to others. At times you are extroverted, affable, sociable, while at other times you are introverted, wary, reserved. Some of your aspirations tend to be pretty unrealistic. Security is one of your major goals in life. You went on to become our 34th President.

I am also thankful for the Forer Effect.

War Stuff for Freedom or Whatever

This Veterans day, lets not stop at honoring Vets who have already dealt with War Bullshit; lets be sure in the fact that some asshole in a suit somewhere is cooking up some new War Bullshit, so our children and eventually, their children will get to deal with some War Bullshit. It'll probably involve getting oil or China or something. Then we'll convince ourselves it was totally worth it. And then they'll make movies about it and do ceremony stuff before sporting events. For freedom or whatever.

TODAY I AM THANKFUL FOR FIRE

Bob Newhart, our 34th
President, established
the Fire Dept. System.

"Fire Good!" Even the Frankenstein monster finally realized that fire is good. Without fire, it would be winter both outside AND inside, and no one wants that. Fire was invented in 1933 by Nikola Tesla in response to the rising threat of Communism.

Today we use fire for many useful pastimes, such as cooking, home heating, and the combustion engine. During the Fire Embargo of the 1970s, fire shortages crippled the economy, and this led the Newhart Administration to establish the Fire Department System, which endures to this day.

# TODAY I AM THANKFUL FOR AIR!

Without air, there would be no Wright Brothers, because an airplane works because of differential air pressure on a wing foil as it passes through air. No Wright Bros., no airplanes. No airplanes, no Fantasy Island. No Fantasy Island, no Hervé Villechaize saying "De Plane! De Plane!" I don't want to live in a world where that didn't happen.

Air: without air, we would all have to wear spacesuits. I wouldn't want to live in a world where we all wore spacesuits. Plus, Hervé Villechaize in a tiny spacesuit is horrifying.

Not only that, there would be no movie, "The Boy In The Plastic Bubble," (he wouldn't need a bubble, he would always be in a spacesuit) That movie in turn inspired the "Bubble Boy" episode on Seinfeld. That was hilarious! "Moops?"

None of that would have happened, and even if it had happened, it would have happened in spacesuits. Not as awesome.

And anyway, giving everyone spacesuits wouldn't even work, because there would be nothing to refill the air tanks with, so we would die.

Can you imagine? A landscape filled with spacesuits, which would in turn be filled with human skeletons? The malls filled with spacesuit-wearing skeletons, hospital nurseries with basinets filled with tiny skeletons in tiny spacesuits, lifeless old-folks' homes with wheelchairs full of lifeless spacesuit-wearing skeletons, and highways filled with wrecked cars, which in turn would contain space-suited human skeletons, mold growing on the surface of their Starbucks Lattes. Think about it. Now you're thankful for air, huh?

With no air, there would be no early sailing ships. {no wind ya'all} No early sailing ships, no pilgrims, and NO THANKGIVING!

{mind blown}

And even if we had managed to have a Thanksgiving in our rudimentary space suits, we could never have given smallpox-infected blankets to the Indians, because the smallpox would never kill them because they would always be wearing their Indian spacesuits, so they would have eventually wiped us out with their plasma rifles. (They wouldn't have arrows, because arrows are made of wood, and can a tree grow in a vacuum? I think not. Think these things through people!)

No, it would be nothing but herds of spacesuit-wearing buffalo and spacesuit-wearing Indians riding spacesuit-wearing horses.

Nope, I don't want to live in that world. So today I am thankful for Air.

A LIGHTHEARTED TAKE ON LEAF BLOWERS:

I am against the use of military drones within the borders of the United States, with one exception:

People using leaf blowers.

I know this sounds harsh, but the 2nd Amendment covers the right to keep firearms, and although thousands of people lose their lives to gun violence every year, people have the right, so whatever. It doesn't cover leaf blowers, because our founding fathers knew that leaf blowers were fucking horrible.

I'm glad I don't own a firearm, because if I did, I would walk over and shoot that motherfucker right in his fucking face.

Leaf blowers? Leaf blowers are an abomination. I hope there is a special place in hell for people who use their awful, noisy, stupid leaf blowers on what would otherwise be a peaceful, beautiful fall Saturday morning.

Guess what I'm listening to, right now, as I type this? Some lazy-ass, no good, fucked up neighbor of mine, running his god-damned leaf blower.

Use a rake you lazy-ass motherfucker.

Please NSA, please read this and put together a comprehensive security plan that would allow military drones to tomahawk missile these motherfuckers and their leaf-blowers straight to hell. Leave a god-damned smoking crater in their fucking yard, where the gently falling leaves can quietly accumulate over the years.

Motherfucker.

for the record: I would never shoot or otherwise harm in any way anybody, ever. this is a writing exercise. Jesus Christ.

doug discovers a new "feature" on his phone

"CAN YOU HEAR ME?"
"Yes, I can hear you."
"DID YOU KNOW ABOUT THIS FEATURE?"
"Yes, it's always been able to do this."
"IT'S LIKE TEXTING, BUT WITH TALKING INSTEAD OF TYPING."
"I know, it's a ph—"
"DID YOU KNOW IT COULD DO THIS THE WHOLE TIME?"
"It's a phone Doug. That's what it was designed to—"
"BUT JUST TALKING! IT'S SO EASY! OH MAN, I GOT TO GO, I'LL TEXT YOU SOME MORE."

#38 A POEM ABOUT FALLING ASLEEP

Falling asleep,
The heavy-lidded
Cotton brain
Of half-formed
Random thoughts—
The gravitational pull
Of a perfectly-sized
Planet
On half-helpless
Lazy bones.
The book
Half-fallen in slackening hands—
The flinch
Of half-dreamt stumbles
And imagined falls—
The cloistered night
Brings singing frogs
Or oscillating fans—
Invisible dogs
In distant barking
Moonlight-gilded streets—
The black-grass
Vacant front-yard distant highways—
Falling asleep—
The deathlike slumbered
Nighttime dreaming cities—
Nocturnal thoughtscapes
Loaming through the midnight—
Death's cousin nightly
Pours through sleepy eyes
Two grains apiece
The countless sands of time.

#37 Two Bathtubs

Two bathtubs,
Two bathtubs,
Why do they sit,
In two bathtubs?

Is there water in there?
Do they wear underwear?
Do they wear swimming suits?
Or hold hands in the nude?

Do they leave the tubs out,
When they aren't using them?
Does the plumbing connect,
So to fill them again?

Does the sun always set,
When they get in their tubs?
Will this marketing work,
When they're pushing their drugs?

My Short Story Collection, Free Kindle Download This Week

My short story collection, Firewood for Cannibals, is available as a free Kindle download this week.

Here's the link:  http://amzn.com/B003HS4UMQ


And here's the cover:
 

The Bizaro Beatitudes.

I can't believe we let Russia soften our Military Force Boner. As a nation, we need to threaten to bring peace to somebody, with precise Tomahawk missile surgical strikes, all the time. A virile and relevant nation must always threaten to attack other nations, always, otherwise that nation looks weak. And the one nation that can never look weak is the United States, because, hey, we aren't weak! "You want to fight? You think we're weak? I could beat you guys up. Because look at these missiles!  Look at these drones! Freedom and liberty you guys!"

There is no other way to do business, or solve problems, other than precision bombing in undeclared wars, for freedom.

It just feels kind of empty and quiet, without bellicose threatening of other countries, for freedom. It would be a shame to have all of these jets and stuff without using them on some heathen country that doesn't love Jesus.  Because remember how we interpret what Jesus said:
-----------
Blessed are the strong in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Blessed are those who win, for they will be comforted.

Blessed are the proud, for they will inherit the earth.

Blessed are those who bomb and murder after righteousness, for they will be filled.

Blessed are the merciless, for they shall be shown mercy.

Blessed are the hard of heart, for they will see God.

Blessed are the war makers, for they will be called the sons of God.

Blessed are those who persecute because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Blessed are you when people fear you, are persecuted by you and are not allowed to say all kinds of evil against you because of me.

Be wrathful and vengeful, because great is your reward in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.

(the preceding is sarcasm, just for the record)

# I CONFESS: I TOOK 16 ITEMS THROUGH THE '12 ITEM OR LESS' LINE

I did the deed with eyes downcast; I rolled my tiny cart into the 12 Items or Less line, and silently counted my items: 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16. It was Saturday morning, and the supermarket was very busy. I looked across at the other check lanes, and they were all full of carts that were all full of goods; normally I would have gone to another lane, but so busy! I wasn't about to move.

But the shame. The shame of it. All my life, I've scoffed at those who would scoff at the orderly lining up of customers. I used to count, with a glowing sense of satisfaction, as the person in front of me would put their items on the belt. I would count. "Oh, thirteen items, eh," I would think, and then I'd feel that smug sense of self-righteousness as I recounted my ten items. Well below the limit.

But today: There I was with sixteen items. Four past the limit. I could have done with two less cans of soup. That would have put me at fourteen. The bag of chips? The jar of salsa? Those weren't even on my list. I could have squeaked in at twelve items, but no.

The old man behind me had two items. I could see it in his eyes. He knew. He was judging me. I had 16 items.

And as the checkout guy beeped across my items. 1...2...3... and eventually, the twelfth  beep: thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, SIXTEEN. Each beep announcing that here was a villain who couldn't follow the rules. Here stood a proud, conceited man who thought he was too important to wait in line with everyone else.

Burning with shame, I swiped my card, unable to muster even the courage to get cash back. I put my plastic bags in the cart and fled, and then:

"Sir!"

I turned. The checkout guy held up a plastic bag, like an accusation. I had forgotten a bag. I had so many. In the express lane! So many that my greed and prideful disdain for the rule of law had made me forget. I slinked back and got the last bag.

Oh! Shall I ever show my face again? For shame! For shame!

#94 FREEDOM OIL

freedom, oil

freedom, oil

freedom, freedom, freedom

oil

war, war, lots of war,

freedomfreedomfreedom_oil

war, war, terror, war,

freedomFreedomFreedomOil

war, terror, boom, boom, boom,

freedom, oil, war.

pie.

Meatless Thursdays

"Oh, no thank you, I don't eat meat on Thursdays. It's against my religion."

"What religion is that?"

"This new one I'm making up as I go along. It changes day to day, but today I don't eat meat on Thursdays."

#36 Something Written @ 6 AM:

Hello Gremlings, Lo: the threefast gripbooks sand the furthing. All creptpast sleeps do rumble through the gloamer. Earl-morning night bugs pray-sing twighlight creepings. All dream lore whisper-crinkle echoes fading.

Past doozing-slumber, hum of distant highway, on truck stop pavement dirt-grass cricket sloaming.

All sleepy shelf-stock shambling clock-bound watchmen, all blink-red empty intersection stoplights.

New daybreak sky-glow twinkling star-sky coolness. All coffee-clasping glow-screen web page gazers, All yawning daytime sleepy-morning shavers.

Awake. Awake the earth-turned toward the center, Awake the morning traffic making travelers, Awake the lost soul idle, useless seekers, reluctant students, craftsmen, slaves, kings and beggars all. Awake, awake, awake, the morning call.

# THE CORBOMITE MANEUVER, STAR TREK 1966

Oh my God, you guys, yesterday I was watching Star Trek, and the Enterprise was just cruising along, doing star mapping, and Spock was like, "prepare to photograph," and they were just taking pictures of stars and stuff, and then all of the sudden, George Takei was like, "object approaching," and the RED ALERT went off, and then this spinning cube comes up right in their grill, and Spock was like, "Captain Kirk to the bridge," but Kirk was on this weird exercise bike in sickbay, and Dr. McCoy ignored the red light, but then Kirk saw it and he was all walking around the ship without his shirt on. Kirk was like, "does anybody know what this is?" and they were all like, "I don't know," and Scotty was like, "I have no idea how it works, it's just a cube." So then, they try to get around the cube, but it kept following them, and then it started getting closer and Mr. Spock was like, "Oh no, the radiation is really bad," and they tried to get away, and one guy, the navigator, Bailey, was freaking out, and he was like, "let's shoot it," and Kirk said, "cool it mister," and then Spock was like, "the radiation is really bad you guys!" and then Kirk says, "lock phasers," and they shot it.

So then they were like, "Do we keep going on mapping and stuff?" and then the Yeoman brings Kirk a salad, cause Dr. McCoy had put Kirk on a diet, and then there's another red alert, this time a HUGE glowing sphere is in front of them, and a voice says, "I AM BALOK, COMMANDER OF THE FESARIUS, I'M GONNA BLOW YOU GUYS UP FOR DESTROYING THAT WARNING BUOY YOU GUYS! PRAY OR WHATEVER, YOU HAVE FIFTEEN MINUTES" and then everybody's freaking out, Sulu keeps saying, like "eight minutes," and they can't move or do anything, and Bailey freaks out so bad that Kirk throws him off the bridge. Then they get "visual" contact, and Balok is a blue freaky looking alien with a giant head. I was so scared you guys! And they can't think of anything to do, Kirk asks Spock what he thinks and Spock says, "we're checkmated man, it's over," and then McCoy comes in, for some reason, even though they have five minutes to live, and starts complaining about how Kirk treated Bailey, and they argue and Kirk's like, "don't bluff me," and then he gets an idea: he says, "it isn't chess, it's poker!" and then he tells Balok that the ship is made of Carbomite, (it isn't) and the ship will reflect any energy back to Balok's ship and destroy them both if Balok blows up the ship. Then the countdown continues, but Balok doesn't blow up the ship, then Balok says, "okay, fine, I'm taking you to my planet, where you'll be prisoners," so Balok puts the Enterprise in a tractor beam with a tiny ship, but it overloads Balok's ship, and then Balok sends a distress signal, and then McCoy is like, "screw that guy, let's get out of here," but Kirk is like, "what's our mission?" and he takes Bailey with him, and they beam over to Balok's ship, and it turns out that the Balok they saw was just a puppet, but it was really a kid, played by Ron Howard's brother who says, "I was just testing you guys! HA HA HA HA!" And then they have orange juice, and Bailey stayed with him for a while as an exchange program, and then he gives them a tour of his tiny ship, and they were all friends. So anyway, it was a pretty good show. So don't give up, or whatever.

generic writing

Behind the office buildings, where Fuller meets our road, there is a copse of towering trees, cottonwoods, which sing in any breeze that might stir. The office building is brown brick, with beige rock above and below narrow windows. Two story brick cubes, with a parking lot one-quarter full. The cottonwoods are very tall. Behind and around the parking lot is all manner of crowded underbrush, bushes, ferns, trees and so forth.

There is a bit of brown wood privacy fence running across the back lot.

#35 Tigers @ Royals July 20 2013

Verlander wasn't Verlander today,
But KC's pitcher Guthrie didn't shine,
With lots of fly balls popped up into play,
And Billy Butler splitting through the pine.

Verlander had an error in the first,
They had a passed ball later in the third,
He pitched around Butler with two outs,
Against JV Butler hits really well.

By the fourth inning, it was all tied up,
Cause Salvador Perez drove in two runs.
The Royals loaded the bases in the Fourth
With no one out, Verlander needed help.

Santiago caught a hard line drive,
Caine scored, Getz beat the double play at first.
Verlander loads the bases once again,
By walking Gordon after a full count.

He walked Mustakas to walk in a run,
With bases loaded, that was not too good,
Chris Getz twisted his ankle in the fifth,
And Hosner fell and didn't make the tag.

Avila's double ties it up five-five,
Muostakas homers, making it six-five.
Billy Butler's beef was accurate,
The ball did hit the ground off his foul tip.

Smyly retired the side, like one-two-three,
But Holland, the Royals closer, was too good.
Martinez thought he had a tying homer,
But it fell short, and so the Tigers lost.

Wrote another Zen book

Hey now! I wrote another Zen book. You can order it here, if you like: http://amzn.com/1490936688

#68 Oh Beloved Coffee Maker!

Oh Beloved Coffee Maker!
You stand the watches of the night,
While stars do spectacle vast inky heavens,
And rosy-fingered dawn doth make the sky blood red,
Thou stands the watches of the night and early morn.

Oh Beloved Coffee Maker!
Loyal subject, who waits on me
With patient servitude,
Who brings me back to life,
Hence from slumbers, where I take respite.

Oh Beloved Coffee Maker!
What foul and loathsome beast
I would become, if thou did not
Redeem me to a better state,
And all the shrieking fiends of Hell
Wouldst cower before me,
If your fidelity, broken, left me bereft.

Peace! Oh growling spirit
That within my hollow form dost stir,
This is the Coffee, the Heaven's Brew
That comes from warmer climes,
That brings peace to a warlike soul,
And fosters there sweet humanity.

Bring forth thy soothing balm:
It soothes me,
It awakens me,
It opens my eyes,
And upon this haggard visage
Brings a semblance of peace.

Oh Beloved Coffee Maker,
Thou hast redeemed me.
I raise another cup.
I raise another cup.
Oh Beloved Coffee Maker.

DOG WALKING TIPS:

When walking your dog, put two Snickers bars (wrapped) in a white plastic grocery bag. It looks like you picked up dog poop, but really, they're just two snickers bars. Then if your dog poops, PRETEND to pick up the poop. It will look like you are a responsible dog owner, when really, you are inconsiderate and lazy. After the walk, enjoy a Snickers bar!

"Paunchy Mimes"

Here are some titles for bands, movies, plays, or books that will never be used, featuring "Paunchy Mimes."

1. Paunchy Mimes
2. Valley of The Paunchy Mimes
3. Attack of The Paunchy Mimes
4. Waiting Room Filled With Paunchy Mimes
5. Hairless Paunchy Mimes
6. Shirtless Paunchy Mimes
7. Pantless Paunchy Mimes
8. Rest Stop of Paunchy Mimes
9. I Was Saliva-Swabbed at The Police Checkpoint of Paunchy Mimes
10. Home Alone With Drunken Paunchy Mimes
11. Paunchy Mimes Al Qaeda Shark Attack
12. Paunchy Mimes Vaccine

#69 Cradle to Grave

Cradle to grave,
Cradle to grave,
Everyone hurries from
Cradle to grave.

Cut them some slack,
That's how they behave,
As everyone hurries
From cradle to grave.

An Evening with Ray Bradbury 2001

# THE ICE CREAM CATS OF ANTIOCH

The Ice Cream Cats of Antioch bore down on our cities in their silver ships. Merciless, clear-eyed, and silent, they were precise in their attacks on our infrastructure. They quickly took down power plants, bridges, military installations, and highways. As an extra warning, they took down exactly one hundred water towers: a demonstration of both their power, and their restraint.

How quickly mankind capitulated when faced with the overwhelming power of the Ice Cream Cats.  Then came the humiliating signing of surrender at the UN. The Ice Cream Cats said nothing. Aloof, looking bored, they collected the signatures of world leaders, and then returned to their silver ships. Thus began the reign of the Ice Cream Cats of Antioch.

Venn Diagrams

Circle of Freedom

#70 Thursdays In Heaven

When I got to the Pearly Gates
(My reward I earned as a man)
They gave me a pack of Camels,
And smoked oysters in a can.

I took the bus to the pool hall,
On the seedy side of town,
On a random Thursday morning,
I just kind of hung around.

There's a guy in a Marlboro tracksuit
Telling tales of Vietnam,
And a guy yelling into a cell phone,
Disagreements with his mom.

I lunched on convenience-store pizza
With my last five dollar bill,
But later I met a dead-beat,
We got high and watched Dr. Phil.

In the evening, I walked to the highway,
And headed out of town.
Eternity's nice on the weekends,
But the weekdays get you down.

# "NOT A STEP" MEANS NOT A STEP

These rags hang about me in sad rot, sad, unclean decay, and they steam in the fiery heat of the banks of the very river of fire, the great Styx. I am beyond worrying about my appearance. It does look ominous, however. Cowl, scythe, bony being, I.

And I am called a Monster. Death they call me. So I try not to be seen.  But they call me. The old. The sick. The unfortunate. The violent. The mad. The addicted. The suicides and fools.

They call me, so I go. To roadsides and bedsides and everywhere my little trade takes me. Almost always unwelcome. Sometimes unlooked for. Almost never embraced.

But, sometimes sought out. Those seekers of the deeper peace. Those mortal coil shufflers. Bridge Leapers and Pill Gobblers. Razor Blades and Rat Poisons. Depressed Gloomers in dark blue apartments. Dusk-sighing spurned lovers. Catatonic, medicated mules in tiny dusty offices.

Well shod bankrupts in large houses. Beautiful bulimics in smeared mascara.

So they call, and I go. But mostly, I arrive unbidden. To roadside wreckage. To chest-clutching, obese alcoholics. The occasional aneurysm at a sales conference. The backyard barbecue, the late night snack that only goes halfway, and stops up the pipes.

One minute before the paramedics, five years after the diagnosis, or, SURPRISE! On someone's birthday, or Christmas Eve, or on some random Tuesday afternoon, when no one expects me.

Sometimes the television is on, stared at by unseeing eyes. Sometimes I will sit on the sofa next to my cooling charge and we will watch together: fitness infomercials and news stories and cooking shows. Sometimes we sit for days until the concerned neighbor or adult child finally starts banging on the door.

And always, the cell phone. Sometimes still in the very cold hand, it will ring and ring, until it goes to voicemail. And after awhile, it will ring again. A corpse can get a lot of texts. I never read them, because I would be tempted to answer them.

In the silent forest, the sightless man glares up at the cold, cruel stars. And there's his cell phone. The opening strains of "The Final Countdown" echoes among the redwoods. Does it make a sound?

Fish nibbling at peaceful faces. Ants crawling across sightless eyeballs.

"Your troubles are over," I always want to say, "relax." But they never see me. They are often in no condition to relax. They only relax afterward. But before, there is always some glimmer of hope in all that fear, so I am only a hint. Only an idea. They cannot truly imagine.

I like my work piecemeal. I don't like when they die wholesale, but they do. Oh, slaughter most foul, much too often. When it is a large group, they sing a dirge as we plod slowly along, single file to . . .

To where, you ask? That is a secret. Not where you think. Not where you have been told. Oh no. If you don't know, you should ask somebody.

Yes, you. Because someday, you and I will meet. Any random Tuesday maybe. In the afternoon, or early some frosty winter morning. Could be later today, or in about a week, or a year, or a lifetime from now, but you should remember. Do that thing you were planning sooner than later. Remember me, and all arguments should cease. Say that thing to that someone now, not later.

And remember: if it says, "NOT A STEP," take heed.  You would be surprised how many people ignore that to their peril.

More Now / Less Then in 2013.

More 13 / Less 12.
More Word / Less Warcraft.
More Fiction / Less Facebook.
More Running / Less Reruns.
More Awareness / Less Angst.

2013 New Year's Catchphrases:

1. 2013: Really? We're gonna do this?
2. 2013: If you insist.
3. 2013: I got a bad feeling about this. 
4. 2013: Wait. Let's think this over before doing anything rash.
5. 2013: Didn't we just do this last year?
6. 2013: Again?
7. 2013: Do we have to?
8. 2013: This looks dubious.
9. 2013: Sure, Why not?
10. 2013: This is a bad idea.

THE MEANING OF LIFE (close enough anyway)

There is none, but there is a close, close approximation.

On this, the end of the world (?) {December 21, 2012} I am writing that yesterday, the day before the end of the world, I watched Monty Python's "The Meaning of Life" (1983).

I have watched this movie many time throughout my 46 years, because I am that way.  I think it is hilarious, and I have always thought, that at the end of the movie, they summed it up in an offhand way with this quote, which I had memorized for along time, being a Monty Python fan.  It goes like this:

M-hmm. Well, it's nothing very special. Uh, try and be nice to people, avoid eating fat, read a good book every now and then, get some walking in, and try and live together in peace and harmony with people of all creeds and nations. 

And for years, I thought this was a great summary of some good advice, but it isn't, of course the MEANING OF LIFE, as the movie title suggests, but just some sound advice, and it's funny because it is basically saying, "there isn't any meaning of life, just be nice."

But last night, watching the movie again, I finally found, after close to thirty years of loving this movie, the true nugget of the film.  It happens in a board meeting of otherwise douchebag executives.  One of them starts off asking about "item six" on the agenda.

Exec #1: Item six on the agenda: "The Meaning of Life" Now uh, Harry, you've had some thoughts on this.

Exec #2: Yeah, I've had a team working on this over the past few weeks, and what we've come up with can be reduced to two fundamental concepts. One: People aren't wearing enough hats. Two: . . . this "soul" does not exist ab initio as orthodox Christianity teaches; it has to be brought into existence by a process of guided self-observation. However, this is rarely achieved owing to man's unique ability to be distracted from spiritual matters by everyday trivia. 

Exec #3: What was that about hats again?

This is the entire crux of the movie, and I have been missing it for thirty years.

Now this isn't the "meaning of life" as there is no intrinsic "meaning of life" but it is so close, it bears discussion . . .  { there's more, but this is a book excerpt from the book I'm working on.}

here's the clip:

Simple Rules for American Problem Solving

As Americans, whenever we face dire, complicated, and urgent problems, we must remember to follow a few simple rules:

1. Slogans: Yell short, catchy slogans at anyone who might disagree with your worldview. Repeat talking points. Eye rolling should begin as soon as the other side responds with their own canned responses. 
2. Simplicity: Offer simple, easy to understand solutions that only address the symptoms of the problem.  While imperfect, this bolsters the worldview of your "side".  Use hypothetical situations to explain why these imaginary situations bolster your own arguments.Insist that there is only ONE cause, and therefore, only ONE solution.  If the problem involves many causes, it is too complicated for America to solve.  
3. Anger: Be angry. Be very angry that someone fails to see the genius of your solution, or the solution that your "side" offers.
4. Derision: Make sure to discount any idea from the other "side." Admitting that they might have good ideas is a sign of weakness.  The other "side" is full of idiots.  Obviously.  No one from the other "side" will ever have a good idea, no matter how reasonable it sounds.
5. Victory: Always make sure that your "side" wins, at all costs.
6. Stubbornness: Reject nuanced positions or complicated ideas that might require compromise.  Compromise is for the weak.
7. Emotion: Appeal to emotion when making an argument.
8. Win: Every problem is a contest that must be "won" at all cost.  The other "side" must lose.  And they are wrong. They must be reminded how wrong they are. Even if you don't know the answer to the problem, be absolutely positive that "their" answer is 100% wrong. Point out the weaknesses in their solution, demanding an absolute perfect solution.  Offer no solutions.
9. Criticism: Point out the weaknesses of the other side's arguments, while obfuscating the weaknesses of your own side.
10. Accusations: Demonize the other "side." Blame them.  Use terms like "blood on their hands."  Point out the worst examples of people on their "side," and claim that these bad examples represent the entire group, while simultaneously ignoring the lunatics on your own side.  Generalize.  Make straw-man arguments. 

I think with these simple rules in mind, America's future will be better, brighter, and more civil.  Freedom.

#71 Electric Light!

Electric Light!
Electric Light!
Without you,
It would be quite Night.

Display our Clutter
Very Bright!
Without you,
We would have no Sight!

Electric Light!
Electric Light!
Without you,
Dark would be the Night!

#72 SMALL MAN FROZEN IN BLACK AND WHITE

Edgar Allen Poe
Curled up in the street.
The winds of Baltimore
Cooping election day.
"In great Distress."
Baltimore Poet.

Threadbare ankles
Dirt and grime
An alcoholic's pounding brain
In someone else's clothes.

Fevered Baltimore Poet
Curled on the street
Beside a dingy wall.

In a stranger's clothes

Taken to hospital
Barred windows.

Dead in less than a week,
Delirious:
Talking to spirits,
To a cruel Father,
To Ravens, to Eleonora,
To The Lost Lenore,
To Death in the City in The Sea.
Dead in less than a week,
Five in the Morning.
Who was Reynolds?

Griswold was not amused.
False obituaries, false memoirs.
Defended by Baudelaire,
A Raven made famous.
Small man
Now frozen in Black and White.

concerning Facebook and "privacy":

ehem:

When you post something on the Internet, you have POSTED SOMETHING ON THE INTERNET, so it isn't private anymore, you don't own it, and you probably should have kept it on the hard drive, or in your head, or somewhere that isn't ON THE INTERNET, formerly known as THE WORLD WIDE WEB, which doesn't sound private at all, really, seeing as it is WORLD WIDE, monitored by every marketing firm, government "security" agency, corporation, troll, voyeur, plagiarist, and human with an Internet connection, which is just about everyone. So, don't post stuff. Freedom.

#73 This Turkey is Delicious

This turkey is delicious.
Did it ever fall in love?
Did it ever pray to Turkey God,
That looks down from above?

Did it hope?
Did it dream?
When they killed it,
Did it scream?

This turkey is delicious.
I wonder who it was.

#7 THREE HOLIDAY SINGULARITY

Halloween pumpkins,
On porches, Thanksgiving Eve,
And Christmas-tree sales.

Authors mentioned in Herman Wouk's novel, Aurora Dawn

"Spinoza rubbed bindings with Mark Twain, Jane Austen with La Rochefoucauld, James Joyce with Lord Chesterfield, Keats with Clarence Darrow..."

stuff

Bureaucracies and committees have a much firmer grasp on "reality" because they sometimes have expensive, authoritative looking letterhead on which to send "facts" to "citizens" (read consumers) to accept as true without question.

Bureaucrats can conceptualize things in such a way as to get around certain details that might otherwise hamper a program or initiative. (programs and initiatives which must be implemented, regardless of usefulness) They have ground away the edges of constricting parameters like logic, common sense, and practicality to such a degree that redefining the meaning of words in order to fit pliable, optional "facts" into rigid, logic-like policies is not only an option, it is the ONLY option.

Nate vs. Computer 1-0

Nakamura, Hikaru (2778) vs. Kramnik, Vladimir (2797)

MUZAK MOMENT:

Joe Jackson's 1982 hit, "Steppin' Out" at 1:08PM at the O'Reilly auto parts store while purchasing motor oil.

# 74 BOUND ONE TOWN FOR A THOUSAND YEARS

Bound one town

For a thousand years

For a thousand years

For a thousand years

Bound one spine

One heart, one head

With the only ones

That we get 'til dead

In the blue and red

Color blind instead

For a thousand years

For a thousand years

Bound one town

And then walk around

For a thousand years

For a thousand years

It's been said

That until you're dead

For a thousand years

For a thousand years

Cut the lights

And draw the shades

You're the only one 

That was ever made

For a thousand years

For a thousand years

Bound one town

For a thousand years

I just heard a voice 

In the cricket dark 

For a thousand years

For a thousand years

Pinpoint light

And the wicked moon

For a thousand years

For a thousand years

Sit and write

For a thousand years

Random monkey words

For a thousand years

Bound one town 

For a thousand years

In the cricket dark

For a thousand years

Earth, Jupiter and Venus (as seen from Mars)

Earth, Jupiter and Venus (listed from top to bottom) seen from Mars.  How cool is that? Go Science!

update: turns out this picture is fake.  not so much a hoax as a representation from some software that has been passed around (like I did at first) as real. See the comment below by Justin for a link to the explanation.

boo science that makes fake pics looks so real...

#75 SPRINKLE A MIGHTY LAWN

Trapped by our Nice Things,
We soldier on.
The indomitable spirit of a
Set Schedule.
We look at the numbers and sigh.
It must get better, if only
We soldier on.

Trapped in our Conditioned Air,
The automatic sprinklers
Mock your tiny lawns.

Trapped in our Conditioned Air,
Staring at bumpered
Tail lights.

We sit in our Churches
And pat ourselves on the back.
We hang pictures of our penniless
God
In our Mortgaged McMansions.

On the rolling lawns of our
Golf Courses, we feel the
Mob
Closing in.

We built this.
You cannot take it from us.
It is ours.
"Blessed be the meek,"
But I got MINE.

I deserve this because
My grandfather beat Hitler.
This old house belongs to
ME.

The bad luck of my brothers
Is not my problem.
My automatic sprinklers
Sprinkle a MIGHTY LAWN.
A lawn decreed by God.

That I would go to a good
College
That my job be deemed
Important enough to keep (for now).

That my evaluations would be sufficient.
Here, and in the Hereafter.

*  *  *

My father's money,
And his father's money before him,
Says I get to gamble
With your money.

My car's leather interior,
The space-aged dashboard,
My commute to work,
My eventual comfortable retirement.

Light beer.
High definition sports.
Hardwood floors.
Wife in yoga pants.
Pacified children.
Peace.

These are the promises
Made to ME by a successful
Chain of theme restaurants
That are sprinkled
Among the strip malls and
Malls Proper.

Places themselves in their
Rightful places across the
Six Lane Avenues from such places
As PF Chang's and
Applebee's.

I have earned this.
I worked in a vacuumed.
It is I who chose to be born
To a woman who chose to be married
To a rich man.
That is my wisdom.

I drink a refined combination of
Craft Beers and watch
The Right College Sports.
On magnificent, wall mounted
Screens.

My yoga panted wife
Works hard also, and
Our Children play
Video games on the biggest
Screens
And go with us on the biggest
Vacations.

And this stuff is OURS,
And one day this stuff with be
THEIRS.

How dare you blame us
For having nice stuff?
But think:
If our positions were switched,
You'd want to keep your stuff too.

Same as me.

But I would never feel like you.
Outside Looking In.
I would never want the system
Changed,
Even if it worked only
For a Lucky Few.

We all get the
SAME EXACT OPPORTUNITIES
(to spring from the loins
of the rich)
It has to be that way.

Otherwise, the story I
Tell myself
Doesn't work.

A system that works for some
But not for others
WORKS (for some).

I got mine.
Screw you.

#85 THE PISSED OFF WITH GUNS SONG

Pissed off white guys with guns,
Pissed off white guys with guns,
Pissed off white guys with guns,
Oh yeah, Oh yeah.

Pissed off Muslims with guns,
Pissed off Muslims with guns,
Pissed off Muslims with guns,
Oh yeah, Oh yeah.

Pissed off soldiers with guns,
Pissed off soldiers with guns,
Pissed off soldiers with guns,
Oh yeah Oh yeah.

Pissed off police with guns,
Pissed off police with guns,
Pissed off police with guns,
Oh yeah, Oh yeah.

Pissed off humans with guns,
Pissed off humans with guns,
Pissed off humans with guns,
Oh yeah, Oh yeah.

{repeat, ad infinitum}

The Lord of the Rings, J. R. R. Tolkien (1955)

5 out of 5, of course.  So much has already been said about this book.  I've read it 4 or 5 times now, and I won't read it again until I'm 65.

The Bell Jar, Sylvia Plath (1963)

The Bell Jar: 4 out of 5.

Well built scenes.  Tragedy with understatement.  No self-pity in it, although the subject matter calls for it.  Shock therapy is pretty shocking!

More BS about the universe

The question of the origin of the universe is simple, if you ignore one of the assumptions people seem to have:

Whenever people talk about the beginning of the universe, there always seems to be the assumption that there was a point previous to the "beginning of the universe" when there was "nothing."

What if the universe was just always there?

There is no "origin of the universe" if it simply always existed.

Why do we assume it had a "beginning" point?

*  *  *

Everything we see seems to have a beginning, middle, and end; but those things are just combinations of other things.  Things are composed of atoms and molecules for awhile, and then they decompose.  They are made of "universe" stuff.

But the universe might be a special case:

The universe itself, since it encompasses "everything" cannot be a composite thing.  It has no beginning, middle, or end.  It cannot be put together, since it is already "together" as the set of all things.

And it cannot "decompose," because where would its individual parts go?  Its parts must always be "in" the universe.

*  *  *

The things we see are all part of a subset of the set of all things; they are composed of other things, and they have beginnings, middles, and ends.

But the universe is the "set of all things."

There is only one "set of all things" so what applies to subsets may not apply to the single "set of all things."

bla bla bla-dee bla

Public discourse today seems like an endless current of stupid things said by overly serious, moneyed people. The flow of stupid is ever increasing in its frequency and amplitude.

It is polarizing, harmful, cynical, and crude. It gets us nowhere, solves nothing, and tears us apart.

There is a story about King Solomon, who, when two women were arguing over who should keep a baby (for whatever reason), King Solomon suggested cutting the baby in half. He suggested this not as an actual solution, but to find out which woman really loved the baby.

Our political sides, both of them, would not only always insist on cutting the baby in half, (they've already cut America in half) they would claim to have the better solution on HOW to cut the baby in half. Then they would fight over who gets to cut the baby in half. They would form committees to discern the most wasteful way to cut the baby in half. They would fight over who got to keep what half, and once that was decided, they would try to cheat the other side out of the other half.

All that is left is satire, irony, and the vague hope that when the wheels come off, the rich and powerful will suffer along with the rest of us.

#8 TACOS

We're making tacos.
Hamburger in the skillet,
Seasoning Packet.

#9 Distant Leaf Blower

Creeping afternoon
I feel my bones settling
Distant leaf-blower.

#76 Magnificent Portulaca Oleracea

Magnificent Purslane, 

So thick and so green 

The most flourishing plant 

In my yard to be seen. 

My yard is so brittle, 

My yard is quite dead 

But Magnificent Purslane

Will thrive in its stead. 

Magnificent Pigweed

Portulaca Oleracea

Are you Pigweed?

Are you Hogweed?

They say you're a weed

But pull you I shan't

Cause I'll grow you on purpose

And I say you're a plant.

#77 Trash Day

Some obscure Talking Heads
   track.
The pre-dawn gloaming
   Wednesday Morning.
I need to take the trash
   to the curb.
But I haven't. It is so early.
   Another weekday.

The very core of my existence
   In the pale living room walls.
Weak light, headphones, bare feet.

Guess I'll go take out the
   trash.

#78 I'LL CONTINUE PILING WORDS

Would that I could bring you here,
Saturday afternoon,
To listen to the neighbor's air
Conditioning the moon.

The distant highway murmurs
It's uninteresting way,
And a starling and a robin
Take turns bathing anyway.

I could get a pizza
Or a soda
Or some beers
But I'll sit here typing bullshit
Until something good appears.

I'll continue piling words on
Until plots and stories happen
And I'll do this while Pandora
Streams me Bach and Eric Clapton

A thousand unread words
Will filter out from whence they came
And the characters will follow
And I'll give each of them a name.

There is Benner,
He's a psycho,
There is Amy,
She's his date.
There goes Collin,
He's a homeless man
Who will pontificate.

There will be a
Wild kerfuffle
In a house
Without a phone
Even though the page
is crowded
Every writer writes alone.

#10 Sunday Morning

Potable water,
    Conditioned air.
I make the coffee.

# Amateur Philosophy (now with audio!)

The idea that there is a beginning of the universe is insane because it would have to come from somewhere else but there is nowhere else because the universe is ... everywhere.  So there's nowhere for it to "come from" in the first place.

So the idea of like, "oh, well where did it come from?" it can't "come from" anywhere because it's everywhere.

So all the things in the universe can't come from somewhere else because there IS nowhere else (is what I'm trying to say).

So the whole argument of like, "Where did the universe come from, and where did it begin" is meaningless.

Cause we can observe everything on the planet, but everything on the planet is just a subset of everything. But we don't see everything.  So when scientists claim to know the beginning of the universe, it's impossible. Cause you can't know about every thing, every object, in an infinite universe, cause it's infinite. Even if you found 99% of it, there's always 1 more percent of it, cause it's infinite.

So, (sigh) the idea that you can find the beginning of the universe,-that's another thing—if there's nowhere for everything to come from, then it can't possibly have had a beginning because it has to have always been there. Cause everything in the universe all the objects, all the matter, that makes up the things that we observe has to have always been there because there's nowhere for it to have not been.

Uh, if that doesn't make sense, then the whole beginning of time thing, that's the other thing "Oh, what's the beginning of time?" There is no beginning of time because there's always that one second right before that. No matter what point you point at and say, "Oh, there's the beginning of time," there's always ... the moment right before that. So, the whole idea of like, "Oh, well there's gotta be a God because otherwise the universe wouldn't exist," Well that doesn't make any sense; the universe always existed because it's got nowhere to go. It can't not exist. Cause it exists. At least we think it does.

So I dunno. That's my rant about all these theological and scientific questions about the beginning of time. There isn't any. You're looking for something that's not there. Because it has to have always been here because there's nowhere for it to have come from.

All right, I'm done.

And the point I forgot to make (I was driving as I babbled this into my cheesy microphone) is this:  Although everything we see seems to have a beginning, middle, and end, those things are just temporary arrangements of atoms that eventually decompose.  But nothing (observable at least) is made or unmade.  Atoms and parts (subsets of the set of all atoms and things) just temporarily arrange themselves and fall apart.  But the universe is not an observable thing; it is not a subset of anything else, so it doesn't have a beginning or an end, since it can't fall apart (there's no way for it to become separated from itself, since it is everywhere).

Since we see everything begin and end around us, we think this attribute applies to the universe, but it doesn't. 

So the "where did the universe come from" and "how did it begin" questions don't apply to the universe itself, although these questions apply to all the stuff IN the universe. 

#79 THEY TELL US WHAT TO THINK

There are photogenic, sonorous people with cameras and microphones, and they tell us what to think.
They claim to tell us what is happening, but they tell us what to think.
They might be on the Left, and they might be on the Right, but they tell us what to think.
 They tell us what to buy and wear and drink and they tell us what to think.
Right and the Left work together to tell us what to think.
 If we think for ourselves we are told we are wrong and they tell us what to think.
They "inform" us by forming us and they tell us what to think.
 The news is not the news because they tell us what to think.
 By tone of voice and innuendo and background music they hide that they are telling us what to think while they tell us what to think.

In school they tell us what to think. In church they tell us what to think.
At work they tell us what to think.
On the campaign trail and in office they tell us what to think.
Rebellious groups are still groups and they tell us what to think.
In press releases and written statements they tell us what to think.
 In history books and police reports they tell us what to think.
Our families and friends tell us what to think.
 Commercials tell us we shrink and slink and stink and they tell us what to eat and drink and think.
Everywhere you turn people tell us what to think.

# GOD'S SPECIAL PURPOSE FOR MANKIND

(Excerpt from my widely unread book of essays, Booze and News!)

One day, a little boy was saying his prayers, and he asked, "God, why did you make humans the way you did?"

And low and behold, God appeared to the boy as a glowing light outside the boy's window.

"That's a great question Timmy, and I've been waiting for someone to ask.  There seems to be some confusion down here, and I'd like to clear that up."

"Is it really you God?"

"Yes Timmy, now pay attention.  The reason I made humans is because when I created the world, I made it about ten degrees too cold.  I created humans and their hideously large brains so they could create simple tools, which would lead to more complex things, which would eventually lead to factories and cars that would affect the atmosphere in such a way that the earth would warm up to a specific temperature, give or take a couple of degrees."

"But why does the earth have to warm up?"

"Well, you see Timmy, God loves the Madagascar Hissing Cockroach (Gromphadorhina Portentosa) so much.  Much more than all the other creatures on the earth.  That's why I made the world, for this beautiful creature."

"But I thought humans--"

"Yes Timmy, I know what you are going to say, but that's a common misconception humans have, and I'd like you to clear that up right now.  No, the only reason I made you humans is for the benefit of the Hissing Cockroach.  No, you guys are slated for extinction when you have served your purpose.  The beauty of this system is that as you make the world more hospitable for the wonderful  Gromphadorhina Portentosa, you'll be making it less hospitable for your own freakish species, so you will be out of the way."

"But that's horrible!"

"Hmm? Oh, yes, I suppose for humans, but you guys are just here to pollute and spread trash all over the place.  Cockroaches love trash and high temperatures.  By the way, stop recycling."

"But--"

"Okay Timmy, I'm out.  Make sure you spread the word.  I guess this makes you a prophet or whatever.  And another thing: electric cars are the devil's work.  See ya!"

# THE NEW SPEEDWAY IS OPEN! FREEDOM!

The Speedway near our house has been closed for a couple of months.  They tore it down to build a new one.  It is just a few blocks from our house.  Oh how we took it for granted.  

So it opened today, just three hours ago, and despite the 98 degree heat, Deb and I walked there to check it out.

As we walked toward the future, to that grand spaceship that was the new Speedway, I dreamed of all the magical things that would be there: lotto, beer, meat-like things, snacks, donuts, pizza-adjacent foodlike items, candy, chips, an ATM, gasoline... everything my American Freedoms allow me to enjoy.

Old Glory flew high and proud above the car lot next to the Speedway.  The New Speedway was open! It was open! Oh the Freedom to exchange American currency for products and scratch-off tickets.  I was like Charlie, and I had a Golden Ticket to the Wonka Factory, only the tickets were green, and the Wonka Factory was a convenience store.

We strode in as though striding through the very gates of heaven.  If Elvis Presley himself was behind the counter, I would not have been shocked, for this was heaven on earth.  Lite Beer and Lotto!  Breath Mints and those brown gloves with red lining!

Wide eyed with innocent wonder, we walked the candy isles.  There were HUGE bags of sunflower seeds!

Everything was new and shiny.  The employees, yet to die from the inside out, gave the impression of actually being alive inside.  Their spirits were yet to be broken!!  There was a WALK IN BEER COOLER which I walked into. It was very cool in there.  I didn't want to leave.

They had Coca-Cola in GLASS BOTTLES.

Oh to be Free and American in this great land.  To buy lotto tickets and a 40oz. Lite Beer in the same place!  Hunting magazines and car magazines!  5 Hour Energy and Snickers bars!

My first Muzak Moment in the new Speedway?  Kansas's 1977 smash hit, "Dust in The Wind."

I stood there a moment, serenaded by a 35 year old recording of soft guitar, and pondered what this all meant as four flavors of Slushies slushed around in their American Freedom Slushy machines.

In conclusion, Freedom.

#80 THESE OLD CDs ARE STACKING UP

Windows 95 disk,
Why are you still there?
I should throw you out but for some reason, 
I don't dare.

Haiku heard on THE BUGLE podcast:

The American
Rides jet skis and eats eagles
'Cause salad is weak.

I recommend this podcast for everyone, always.  Freedom.

#81 WITH THE ANGRY SUN

Humans love their frozen treats,
As they drive along
On the sizzling streets.
Packed at the light,
Their engines run,
And they wonder what's up
With the Angry Sun.

# IMPOSSIBLE INDEX OF FORGOTTEN THINGS

I wandered the forgotten corners of foreclosed yards, where rabbit pellets whiten in the sun, and I saw a vision of these things:

The formal names of every individual crack in every for-lease parking lot, named as lovingly and thoughtfully as a mother naming her own precious children.

Book length descriptions of every telephone pole. Poles that tower unnoticed along squalid strip-malls and stand unappreciated along crowded, fume-spewing highways.

The forgotten inhabitants of abandoned Burger King Parking Lots  - each parking lot weed, indexed and numbered and registered in the timeless database of unimportant things.

Alas! The cast off ends of zip ties languishing unclaimed in the dusty gravel of convenience store construction sites. No more! Each zip tie is unique, and each has a name and history, written in marble, illuminated at all times, and revered as heroes by all!

A map of every track of every wheel of every absconded shopping cart. Records of the tracks in the dirt at the crumbled ends of sidewalks in dilapidated, half empty commercial districts. The details of the voyages of every cart that ever buoyed the worldly goods in plastic bags belonging to homeless, mumbling men.  The maps, detailed inventories of those belongings, and biographies of the men who pushed those shopping carts are stamped into plates of gold and launched into space to represent mankind.

A caligraphy scroll of the lost forgotten thoughts of slack-jawed, Kool-Aid stained children with plastic toy guns before the time of the Internet. The thoughts they had when they had thousand-mile stares with visions of half-imagined, unseen, unnamed idealized cities. All dreamt while standing motionless at the end of driveways on summer afternoons.

The indexed surnames of every individual pine needle from every discarded Christmas tree in 1972. Where is that list? Does it exist? It does now.

A ledger of the exact moment of the fifteenth rotation of every tricycle wheel in Bangladesh.

A coffee table book of every piece of school kid's artwork ever created, one picture per page, and the name and weight of every hand silhouette turkey ever made.

Every stick that was ever an imaginary weapon in the mind of a child at play (playing cops-n-robbers or playing WAR), displayed in a museum. A separate, full length motion picture (directed by Ken Burns and narrated by Morgan Freeman) about every pretend battle each stick was involved in, and a three volume hardback compendium about all the pretend wars and battles. A museum dedicated to these sticks, and a separate room in that museum dedicated exclusively to each stick and an artist's rendition (acrylic on canvas) of what the weapon looked like in the child's mind.

The tenth text sent on every Tuesday in Taiwan, each carved into an individual marble monolith planted twenty feet deep beneath the dark side of the surface of the moon.

The first, middle and last name of every blade of fescue grass that has ever existed, their dates of birth/death, their political leanings, a brief biography and a photo, and a serialized commemorative plate from the Franklin Mint for each one.

The secret dream of every hog slaughtered for its meat throughout all of history. An oil painting of each dream on a 72" x 24" canvas. The individual name of each bristle of each brush used to paint those pictures. A play by play description of every brushstroke, given by Joe Buck and Bob Costas, at the renovated Koševo Stadium in Sarajevo, where all of the homeless men from East St. Louise (1963-1992) will paint those pictures before a packed crowd of delirious spectators, and each artist is paid one-million one dollar bills for their troubles.

The serial numbers of each of the dollars mentioned above, in numerical order, each written in Roman Numerals on a single grain of rice.

#83 EAT THE CHEESE OF REASON

Eat the Cold Beans of Inequity.
Devour the Giblets of Inhumanity!
The Herniated Disk of Base Corruption!
The Cold Beans of Mephistopheles.
 We reject your Terror Blankets!
Terror Beans!
You must eat the Cheese of Reason!
HIDE THE FIVE CHIVES OF DECEPTION
The Five Chives of The Apocalypse!

Sam's First Take On War

"It was Sam's first view of a battle of Men against Men, and he did not like it much. He was glad that he could not see the dead face. He wondered what the man's name was and where he came from; and if he was really evil of heart, or what lies or threats had led him on the long march from his home; and if he would not really rather have stayed there in peace--" Sam's first view of a battle in The Lord of The Rings

somebody's gonna be happy to find a dollar

Today walking back from the bank, I found a child's wallet by the sidewalk.  I checked it for cash, of course.  There wasn't any.  So I put a dollar in it and put it where I found it.