drivers side heat blender 2011 impala

got a new job

 that was easy.

"life: to some it's a miracle, to others, a curse, to most, somewhere in between."

I quit.

 Quit my job. 

reading notes

From The Razor's Edge, by W. Somerset Maugham

Masterlink, Ruysbroek, 

Plotinus, Denis the Areopagite, Jacob Boehme, Meister Eckhart, "Eleven Thousand Virgins," Cologne

"The Alone to The Alone","Dark Night of The Soul", "The Ineffable", Brague (painter), Gaugin, Renoir, "God tempers the wind to the shorn lamb", Rastignac, Andre Breton, Guillaume Apollinaire, "A play of Masterlinck's", "Paolo and Francesca", Berenice(play), Tacitus, Racine (poet? playwrite?), Houdon's Voltaire, Spinoza, Aeschylus, lumbago, Goethe, Schiller, Heine, Holderlin, Rilke, Rolla, Valasquez, El Greco, Veronal, "Seven veils of Ingorance", Spinoza, Valery (writer), Baudelaire, Rimibaud;

General:

thalassocracy, The Winged Victory of Samothrace, Pindar, Rabelaisian

"The void awaits surely all them that weave the wind."

Notes from The Secret History, by Donna Tartt

Things I jotted down while reading "The Secret History, by Donna Tartt, 1992

Benjamin Jowett 

Periclean Athens

Balliol Rymme

Doggerals

Clerihew

stereopticon

bilous

Hesiod's primordal chaos

Josephine Baker

Liddell and Scott

Kouroi

London, by Pennant

Byron's Marino Faliero

"A mock thalos, Doric by way of Pomeii"

Elizabeth and Leicester

Emma Bovary

Alexander Pope

Duc de Saint-Simon

piquet (card game)

Vanity Fair (book

"Twelve Great Cultures"

Constable (writer? book?)

John Donne

Izaak Walton

Rupert Brook (poet)

"The Gautama"

Brian Eno

the Pantheon

Hegel

The Sitwells

Pindar

"Borges, the writer"

Martin Bormann

Artaud

The Fleshtones

"Traumerei"

telestic madness

"Bakcheia"

"To escape cognative mode of expression"

chiton

Pythia

oreibasia

Khairei

Carracci

Pyrrhic

"epigram of Callimachus"

Ilion

Mrs. Gamp

hoi polloi

Pliny

Comun, Tifernum

Malacca Chair

bibelot

Arthur Rimbaud

The Greeks and the Irrational Dodos

Ray Milland The Lost Weekend

Howdah

Attic vases, Meissen Porcelain, Alma-Tadema, Frith 

Jean Cocteau

dado

"Philistine" in context of a modern person

exordium, Palinurus

Theophile Gautier

Vigny's Chatterton

Schliemanns, Ilios

excavation of Hissarlik

antelion

Morris Lee Harden

Anwar Sadat

Golda Meir

garrulous

ecumenical, bravura

A.E.Houseman (poet)

"With rue my love is laden 

Lycidas, gladiola

Morphia

Phaedo

Marcel Proust

George Sand

ebullient

Cortes, Gregory of Tours 

"Mycenaean inscriptions from Knossos"

Spleenwort

Davy Balfour from Kidnapped

P.G. Wodehouse

Pluto and Persephone

Harold Acton

"duty, piety, loyalty, sacrifice"

Proust

"Jacobian dramatists:" Webster, Middleton, Tourngur and Ford

    The Malcontent, The White Devil, The Broken Heart

Christopher Marlowe,

        Raleigh and Nashe

"But ture, I cried too much /
the dawns are heartbreaking

Our Mutual Friend

"Dust thou art, to dust thou shalt return>"

Hagin Sophia

Orpheus

St. Basil's in Moscow

Chartres

Salisbury and Amiens

Weekend

 Brutus killed a vole

finally played 10,000 games

huff park. saw a deer up close. Went to see Alex's new place. 

deb paints kitchen

read a good portion of "The Secret History" 

9,999 Chess Games!

 

A Timeline of People and Things.

Ancient Greeks

Pericles                         495-429 BC

Existentialists

 Søren Kierkegaard     1813-1855

Friedrich Nietzsche     1844-1900

Jean-Paul Sartre     1905-1980

Poets

John Keats                        1798-1821

Alfred, Lord Tennyson     1809-1892

Authors

Jane Austen                 1775-1817

Virginia Woolf             1882-1941

Firewood weekend

 760 logs, 26 trips from the pile to the stack using my hand cart. Took about two hours to stack. 

Saugatuck: We did not get eaten by a bear.

Also, I pulled all the weeds in the driveway. 

 

i made another tiny zen garden.

 

I made a tiny zen garden.

I made a tiny zen garden. Also this weekend: cleaned sink trap, went to Horrock's and got pickled quail's eggs. Also, got a new pillow.  

weekend accomplished!

Painted the house, fixed the switch in the upstairs bathroom, and made a tiny fountain. Weekend accomplished!

The Best Two Paragraphs from The Island of Dr. Moreau (spoiler)

From the last chapter. The narrator has returned to London.

My trouble took the strangest form. I could not persuade myself that the men and women I met were not also another Beast People, animals half wrought into the outward image of human souls, and that they would presently begin to revert,—to show first this bestial mark and then that. But I have confided my case to a strangely able man,—a man who had known Moreau, and seemed half to credit my story; a mental specialist,—and he has helped me mightily, though I do not expect that the terror of that island will ever altogether leave me. At most times it lies far in the back of my mind, a mere distant cloud, a memory, and a faint distrust; but there are times when the little cloud spreads until it obscures the whole sky. Then I look about me at my fellow-men; and I go in fear. I see faces, keen and bright; others dull or dangerous; others, unsteady, insincere,—none that have the calm authority of a reasonable soul. I feel as though the animal was surging up through them; that presently the degradation of the Islanders will be played over again on a larger scale. I know this is an illusion; that these seeming men and women about me are indeed men and women,—men and women for ever, perfectly reasonable creatures, full of human desires and tender solicitude, emancipated from instinct and the slaves of no fantastic Law,—beings altogether different from the Beast Folk. Yet I shrink from them, from their curious glances, their inquiries and assistance, and long to be away from them and alone. For that reason I live near the broad free downland, and can escape thither when this shadow is over my soul; and very sweet is the empty downland then, under the wind-swept sky.

When I lived in London the horror was well-nigh insupportable. I could not get away from men: their voices came through windows; locked doors were flimsy safeguards. I would go out into the streets to fight with my delusion, and prowling women would mew after me; furtive, craving men glance jealously at me; weary, pale workers go coughing by me with tired eyes and eager paces, like wounded deer dripping blood; old people, bent and dull, pass murmuring to themselves; and, all unheeding, a ragged tail of gibing children. Then I would turn aside into some chapel,—and even there, such was my disturbance, it seemed that the preacher gibbered “Big Thinks,” even as the Ape-man had done; or into some library, and there the intent faces over the books seemed but patient creatures waiting for prey. Particularly nauseous were the blank, expressionless faces of people in trains and omnibuses; they seemed no more my fellow-creatures than dead bodies would be, so that I did not dare to travel unless I was assured of being alone. And even it seemed that I too was not a reasonable creature, but only an animal tormented with some strange disorder in its brain which sent it to wander alone, like a sheep stricken with gid.

OLIVE LOAF NONSENSE

I have learned of [maledicite oliva tortam,] the curse of the Olive Loaf, but only too late. My sleep at night is banished, and my waking sleep day everlasting. Woe is the day I chose Olive Loaf. What hubris was there, that I would choose this accursed deli-meat, challenging the gods that I too was worthy of such ambrosia. 

A malignant gloom lurks over all my proceedings. Dark figures peer at me at every corner. The commute is darker, the trucks and cars more threatening, swerving in my lane and riding my bumper, they are like an army of well-coordinated enemies, seeking my life by their bad driving. 

Or is it my imagination? Perhaps I am only sick in the mind, but are those little green worms wriggling about up there? Those olive loaf green circles, excreting paranoia into my brain noodles? What difference, fancy or reality? To me they are the same! O cursed deli-meat! I cast thee out!

Oh Olive Loaf! Why did I not shun thee as I have in the past. Oh deli-meats! Why didn’t I choose a less exotic foodstuff? My life is in the balance. I must return to the market and choose a less offensive meat-stuff to appease the gods! Woe! Woe is me!

all is right in the world again... TP

At the grocery store this morning -- we were out of cat food -- I went to get a few things. And of course, I had to check the toilet paper aisle, just in case they finally had TP. And they DID have TP. Lots of it.

I almost took out my phone to take a picture of it. To post it to Instagram, as if to say, "Look how much TP we have at our supermarket!" But I didn't. I just stood there as a feeling of relief and hope washed over me.

We don't even need toilet paper. We never ran out. We were well stocked. A few weeks ago, I caught a stocker putting out a box, and I got a huge package of Charmin, and we've been good since then.

So today, I thought, "Should I get a pack just in case?" and I didn't. There was no need.

So I left the store relieved. I mentioned it to the cashier on my way out. "You have so much toilet paper," and she told me they had hand sanitizer too. "Huge bottles," she said.  Indicating the size of the bottles with her blue-gloved hands, behind the Plexiglas shield.

"All is well in the world,"  I thought as I left the store, morning glowing over the smattering of parked cars.

weekend

Saw "Joker"

Ran 3 miles

Black Rock restaurant

Saw "Knives Out"

weekend

Started reading Other Voices Other Rooms by Truman Capote. Started reading Civil Disobedience by Thoreau. Finished "The IT Crowd"

Put up towel racks. 

Started <The Casual Guild>

Started the Timon of Athens app.

Yield not...

"Yield not thy neck to Fortune's yoke, but let thy dauntless mind still ride in triumph over all mischance." -- Henry VI, Part III, 3.3

this weekend's chess

(+9=0-4) put up Christmas tree.

quote

"Even the gods cannot strive against necessity." -- Diogenes Laertius

FIRECRACKERS

FIRECRACKERS

1 lb unsalted saltine crackers (4 sleeves)
1 cup canola oil
1 (1 ounce) packet ranch dressing mix
2 tablespoons crushed red pepper flakes
1⁄2 teaspoon garlic powder

Line crackers on ends (like dominoes) in an air-tight container.
In a small bowl, mix oil, dressing mix, peppers, and garlic powder.
Stir until all ingredients are well mixed.
Continue to stir to prevent the pepper from settling on the bottom of the bowl.
Spoon mixture evenly over crackers, like drizzling icing on a cake.
Close lid tightly and flip the container over every 5 minutes for about 20 minutes. Lightly shake back and forth to make sure all the crackers are coated.
Store in a ziplock bag. Will keep for about a week.

5 DAY WEEKEND!

5 DAY WEEKEND!

Working on Romeo and Juliet. Find other plays by searching "The Tiny Stage Shakespeare Company", on Google Play (and start scrolling!). Find them there or find links at www.danmanning.com. 

don't lose your bearings.

Don't lose your bearings.

bookmark on your head!

"There was a bookmark on your head!"

this weekend's chess

I played 21 games: (+11=0-10)  https://lichess.org/@/danmanning

sunday: what happened

raked leaves.
did some programming, working on Romeo and Juliet for The Tiny Stage Shakespeare Company.
played some chess.
played some world of warcraft.

Books I Might Read

Some books I might read, as opposed to 

some books I have read

The Castle of Crossed Destinies

Beowulf Michael Alexander version (prose) Seamus Heaney (verse)

Shahnameh: The Persian Book of Kings, Ferdowsi

Storm of Steel, Junger

Heraclitus

Discourses, The Social Contract, Confessions, Rousseau

The Private Memoirs...James Hogg

Ghost Stories, Uncle Silas, Sheridan Le Fanu

Collected Ghost Stories, M.R. James

Satyricon, Petronius

The Anatomy of Melancholy, Burton

The Golden Bough, Frazer

The House of Mirth Edith Wharton

Castle of Otranto by Walpole

White Wine Wednesday + Lightning Storm

It's Wednesday, Deb's off work, and it's payday.

Strong lightning storm, tornado sirens, the works.

Four Black Crows

There were four huge black crows in the backyard when I got home from work today. Omens and Portents.

Also, I'm reading Tartuffe, or The Impostor, or The Hypocrite , by Molière .

Also, also, I' m almost finished with The Taming of The Shrew, writing the app for the Tiny Stage Shakespeare Company.  If you've got an android phone, check it out. 

Motor Scooter on fire.

Firemen hosing down a motor scooter. I'm trying to sleep damnit.

Two cats.

Got two cats yesterday. Brutus and Gus.

Let Them Loiter on The Screen Awhile

A chasm has yawned between myself and my writing. I find it difficult to write as I used; it seems an idle pastime of my recent slightly less-old days. My conceit that no one would ever read my words, as if that matters, seems, irrationally, to matter. No one will read my books, it seems. I have no head for self-promotions. The uncounted keyboards of the world, matched with minds yearning to express that inner-world of subjective thought has flooded the Internet with garbage words, these included. These words, spewing forth from my brain like an overflowing sewer, typed off-hand on some Sunday morning, unsolicited by an uninterested world, flow nonetheless. Not edited, no reverse, just typing forth rubbish into the Internet. Howling into the void, an aging man types on the Chromebook of his dead father. Yet here I sit, starting another sentence that might lead anywhere, as this stream-of-consciousness thing, this aging brain attempting to convey its subjective existence, unable to wrestle down its own thoughts, cannot fathom that there is no reason to continue. The sun shines on half the backyard, shade and bright green grass share a plot of land behind the house I pay the bank to let me use. There is a great tree back there, which for a long time I mistook for a Honey Locust, and maybe it is some species of that line, but it is large, and it is there every day, immobile, but more importantly, unthinking, unworried about the purpose of life or the cost of the mortgage. It will be there, if left unmolested, for years to come, yet I will, restless and malcontent, move about in various circles, getting, spending, worrying and finding distraction, all the while approaching a certain and immobile grave. Then I will be as content as the tree in my backyard, immobile, unthinking, unworried about "the purpose of life or the cost of the mortgage." So. A chasm has yawned between myself and my writing. But maybe not. Because here is a cluster of words, more stuffing for the great Internet, read yet unread, loitering on a screen.

two midnight trifles harvested from dreams.

i.

A titan of such savage grace,
That all who see him genuflect in awe
Or stand aloof,
It matters none to him.
For such is his security
That opinions pass unnoticed,
Like shadows scattered
In the wind.

ii.

Long the sweet sweet
Slumber of the night.
Low murmurs crowd
The echoed canyons
Of the mind.
Crisp sheets and
Darkness sanctify
Death's twin . . .
And morning,
Tardy with indifference,
Charms the starry welkin
With a sigh.

Saturday post

Watched regatta. Read Shakespeare in 1599. Girls went to see Lion King. Played chess. Watched Sinquefield Cup.

R.I.P Lilly

Our cat, Lilly, died.

Saturday Post

Ran three miles. Company is moving this month, very odd this week. Started working on 'THE TAMING OF THE SHREW' as part of my collection of Shakespeare plays.  I am the director of The Tiny Stage Shakespeare Company.  

Friday. It isn't raining. For once.

Worked on an app I'm developing. Shakespeare-adjacent stuff.

Mowed lawn.

Going to buy paint.  Silver Leaf 4006-1A and Roadster Blue 4006-6B

It's finally nice out.

back to writing

After a few changes of workplace, a hiatus, and a chess-distraction, I'm back to writing. Bing-watched Game of Thrones with Deb. After watching the series, I got depressed, and wondered to myself, "Why am I not writing? I should be writing."

So now I'm working on something again, and reading all the Hugo-award winning books I can get my hands on, for inspiration.

It feels good to be writing again. I'm creating something. Not much at first, but every paragraph counts.

Junk-mail Credit card offers are nothing new

"and there were several very courteously worded communications from Jermyn Street money-lenders offering to advance any sum of money at a moment’s notice and at the most reasonable rates of interest."

From The Picture of Dorian Gray, by Oscar Wilde, first published in 1890.

Cold today

Made fire. Bought steak. Programmed. Played chess. Shaved.

A Post on Friday

Replaced license plate. Planted books. Chess at Common Ground. Ran. Read Shakespeare and Programming book. Moderate whisky.

Four Minutes.

It took four minutes to watch an inch of incense burn.  Later, I ate oysters and saltines on the patio.

My feet are cold.

I'm wearing two pairs of socks, but my feet are still cold. Doing chess puzzles and drinking coffee.

A good time had by all.

Winter lingers...just cold enough to stay indoors. Visited old friends yesterday. A great March Madness gathering, our generous host made food and drink abundant, there were games and conversation, and a good time had by all.

A Post on Friday.

Got a crown put in today. They didn't have laughing gas, but I went through with it anyway. My dentist is good about no pain, but I am a fan of the laughing gas. All went well.

Installing Python 3.7.2

Rain. 37 degrees. 

"dice, Venus, and the tavern!"

'"Poor purse ... How cruelly thou hast been gutted by dice, Venus, and the tavern!"'

-- The Hunchback of Notre Dame book VI chapter IV

Android Down, serialized, Chapter 7

Android Down, serialized, Chapter 7 http://www.danmanning.com/androidWeb/chapter7.asp

Android Down, serialized, Chapter Five

Android Down, serialized, Chapter Five

http://www.danmanning.com/androidWeb/chapter5.asp

wrong number

Went to microwave a cup of coffee: punched in the last four of my SSN.

Read more poetry

Emily Dickinson or GTFO.

Reading

Reading Why Buddhism is True, by Robin Wright

2018 in Review

This year that thing happened and we were all like, NO WAY! And some people wore suits or pant-suits and spoke into microphones. Then some political stuff happened, and we were like, NO WAY! ARGUE ARGUE ARGUE! But then something new happened, probably on television or in the news.

Some good TV series ended or began, and some people were like, THIS IS SO AWESOME, and others were like, "Meh."

There were some award shows, where men wore tuxedos and women showed off their fancy dresses, and everyone was like, "She looked this way or that!"

Then some science stuff happened, and robots. Just last year, we were all thinking, I can't believe 2016 is already over with, there was so much bullshit. What bullshit is going to happen next? And bullshit DID happen. This year we are all thinking, I can't believe 2017 is over with, there was so much bullshit, What bullshit is going to happen next?

Sports and award shows, and weather happened. There were some emergencies. Some people got all shot up and we were all sad for a few days, but then sports happened.

And economy. Gas prices were one price, and then another. There were jobs and stuff, or no jobs, and men in ties stood at microphones and said some stuff.

So anyway. Freedom 2018.

Puzzle

http://lichess.org/training/69448

description of "Resting Bitch Face" found in classic literature

Here is Nathaniel Hawthorne, in the mid 1850s, describing Resting Bitch Face (alternatively known as Bitchy Resting Face) in his book, The House of the Seven Gables

"Face to face with this picture, on entering the apartment, Miss Hepzibah Pyncheon came to a pause;regarding it with a singular scowl, a strange contortion of the brow, which, by people who did not know her, would probably have been interpreted as an expression of bitter anger and ill-will.  But it was no such thing.  She, in fact, felt a reverence for the pictured visage, of which only a far-descended and time-stricken virgin could be susceptible; and this forbidding scowl was the innocent result of her near-sightedness, and an effort so to concentrate her powers of vision as to substitute a firm outline of the object instead of a vague one.

We must linger a moment on this unfortunate expression of poor Hepzibah's brow.  Her scowl,--as the world, or such part of it as sometimes caught a transitory glimpse of her at the window, wickedly persisted in calling it,--her scowl had done Miss Hepzibah a very ill office, in establishing her character as an ill-tempered old maid; nor does it appear improbable that, by often gazing at herself in a dim looking-glass, and perpetually encountering her own frown with its ghostly sphere, she had been led to interpret the expression almost as unjustly as the world did.  "How miserably cross I look!" she must often have whispered to herself; and ultimately have fancied herself so, by a sense of inevitable doom.  But her heart never frowned.  It was naturally tender, sensitive, and full of little tremors and palpitations; all of which weaknesses it retained, while her visage was growing so perversely stern, and even fierce."

Haiku171107

Thundering silence
The public restroom
Too quiet

Haiku 171104

"Clever as a gizzard"
The Scarecrow
Makes no sense

Haiku171103

Stairway to Heaven
At memorial service
Turn off your cell phones

Haiku171102

Anything is possible
Except folding clothes
While eating Cheetos

Haiku 171101

The panicked
Old woman
Sees a message
On her screen

Ars longa est

Ars longa est; vita brevis est." A Latin expression roughly meaning "art is long; life is short."

Dentist

Got my tooth fixed. My dentist is really good about making sure I don't feel a thing.

Raining today.

Yesterday a possum played possum.

2016 In Review

This year that thing happened and we were all like, NO WAY! And some people were naked too much, and others were wearing suits and they spoke into microphones. Then some political stuff happened, and we were like, NO WAY! ARGUE ARGUE ARGUE! But then something new happened, probably on television or in the news.

Some good TV series ended or began, and some people were like, THIS IS SO AWESOME, and others were like, "Meh."

There were some award shows, where men wore tuxedos and women showed off their boobies, and everyone was like, "She looked this way or that!"

Then some science stuff happened, and robots. Just last year, we were all thinking, I can't believe 2015 is already over with, there was so much bullshit. What bullshit is going to happen next? And bullshit DID happen. This year we are all thinking, I can't believe 2016 is over with, there was so much bullshit, What bullshit is going to happen next?

Sports and award shows, and weather happened. There were some emergencies. Some people got all shot up and we were all sad for a few days, but then sports happened.

And economy. Gas prices were one price, and then another. There were jobs and stuff, or no jobs, and men in ties stood at microphones and said some stuff.

So anyway. Freedom 2017.

ACTUAL-REALITY ORBS (A-RO)

Virtual Reality is all the rage, and will soon be everywhere. But I'd like to tell you about something even better.

Actual-Reality Orbs are biologic devices that use light waves to transmit signals DIRECTLY INTO THE BRAIN. Using light refraction technology, if you move your arm, you can actually SEE your arm move. (H.A.N.D.S.) can be used to pick up actual objects in the real world. Audio collectors are located on the sides of the cranium, to deliver High-Fidelity sound directly to the brain.

Physics and gravity aren't only simulated, but actuated by unseen forces that work automatically. Set an object down, it stays there! Momentum, velocity, mass and energy are all synthesized using seamless physics that seem to work all by themselves! It's REAL!

The detail is amazing. Just look around. There are buildings, landscapes, rooms, and weather patterns! Rotate your head left or right, and your perspective rotates as well. Now you can see MORE real objects in the real world. So many objects! Maybe too many. Move them away from yourself if you feel crowded. You might feel crowded. Arrange them any way you want! Use in-game credits to accumulate more objects, or get rid of objects. The choice is yours!

Move around this actual world using (F.E.E.T.) ambulatory technology.

Other players look so real! The people you see in the game are other people, who are also playing in a realistic ACTUAL world. Communicate and interact with other players to unlock various secrets and bonus activities. You could spend a literal lifetime with your new friends (and rivals!). EVERYONE is into actual reality, whether they like it or not!

Experience is earned by repetitive activity. There are different levels. The game starts with the player having almost no abilities, but as the game goes on, the player collects experiences and develops skills. These skills can be used to earn CREDITS, which can be used as actual money. Money can be traded with other players for actual goods and services. It's an imperfect conceptual fabrication, but it works well enough!

There are lots of activities in this ACTUAL WORLD available while using your A.R.O. technology. Literally BILLIONS of players are already playing, collecting credits based on performing lots of tasks, like cooking actual food for others, selling vehicles or household items, or arranging symbols by tapping little squares. There are various rules and limitations put in place to make things interesting.

The game seems to be based on various boxes. Get lucky, or play the game right, you get to spend your time in a FANCY box. Break the rules, and you get put into a PENALTY box, (unless you have lots of credits.) You will probably end up in a AVERAGE box. Make sure you have some kind of box, because weather.

At the end of the game, you are placed in a TINY box.

Surprise! You're already playing. Good luck, play nice. For a limited time only. Act now! Actual reality: try it today!

I wrote you another book. You can order it at Amazon.com

Cheese Bus

...What biblical scholars are wrestling with is how to inform the public and theological leaders that interpretations of ancient scripture must be re-examined after a mistake in translation, dating back to antiquity, has revealed that what has always been taken for the Lord's name, "Jesus," is really a mistaken translation for the two words, "Cheese Bus."

"It isn't figurative," Professor ______ of the _______ institute said on Friday. "An actual bus made of cheese, according to these new, more accurate translations, will ferry souls to the afterlife."

The type of cheese is unknown at this time. "We're working on newly discovered texts, but it may take several months to decipher."

In the meantime, the official announcement is proving difficult to make.

"People will not be happy about this," the professor said. "Believers around the world have been praying to a anthropomorphic deity, when really, it seems as if it is some sort of school bus made of cheese. There's no mention of a driver. I guess it drives itself."

When someone overshares:

"This has been fascinating. You know, a journal is a great, great place for private thoughts."

Stolen from the "Lady Dynamite" series (Netflix)

the price is too high

They say that if you listen to the song "Stayin' Alive" ten times in a row, the ghost of Maurice Gibb will materialize in your kitchen and make you a sandwich. But the price is too high.

My Commute was So Awesome, You Guys.

Yesterday when I was politely sharing the road with my fellow motorists, a miracle happened.
It had been raining all. damn. day.

But then the sun came out! The radio station played the following songs: "My Sharona," "Down Under," "Dancing Queen,*" and "I'm Alright."

And I thought, while sitting at a light with my polite, reasonable, undistracted fellow motorists, "God damn, this is Freedom. America is so awesome right now."
______________________________________________________

*The song "Dancing Queen" is a compositional masterpiece. It starts with the chorus, a hook that in itself has two parts, then goes to the verses. Other songs do that, even "I'm Alright," by musician and Jesus impersonator Kenny Loggins, but “I’m Alright” is no “Dancing Queen.” so anyway, Freedom, or whatever.

This is my travel coffee mug. There are many like it, but this one is mine.

This is my travel coffee mug. There are many like it, but this one is mine.

My travel coffee mug is my best friend. It is my life. I must master it as I must master my life.

Without me, my travel coffee mug is useless. Without my travel coffee mug, I am useless. I must fill my travel coffee mug true.

My travel coffee mug and I know that what counts at work is not the rounds we fire, the noise of our burst, nor the smoke we make. We know that it is the hits that count. We will hit...

My travel coffee mug is human, even as I, because it is my life. Thus, I will learn it as a brother. I will learn its weaknesses, its strength, its parts, its accessories, its sights and its barrel. I will keep my travel coffee mug full and ready, even as I am ready. We will become part of each other. We will...

Before God, I swear this creed. My travel coffee mug and I are the defenders of my country. We are the masters of our enemy. We are the saviors of my life.

So be it, until victory is America's and there is no enemy, but peace!

2015 In Review

This year that thing happened and we were all like, NO WAY! And some people were naked too much, and others were wearing suits and they spoke into microphones. Then some political stuff happened, and we were like, NO WAY! ARGUE ARGUE ARGUE! But then something new happened, probably on television or in the news.

Some good TV series ended or began, and some people were like, THIS IS SO AWESOME, and others were like, "Meh."

There were some award shows, where men wore tuxedos and women showed off their boobies, and everyone was like, "She looked this way or that!"

Then some science stuff happened, and robots. Just last year, we were all thinking, I can't believe 2014 is already over with, there was so much bullshit. What bullshit is going to happen next? And bullshit DID happen. This year we are all thinking, I can't believe 2015 is over with, there was so much bullshit, What bullshit is going to happen next?

Sports and award shows, and weather happened. There were some emergencies. Some people got all shot up and we were all sad for a few days, but then sports happened.

And economy. Gas prices were one price, and then another. There were jobs and stuff, or no jobs, and men in ties stood at microphones and said some stuff.

So anyway. Freedom 2016.

#67 HALF ASLEEP NONSENSE JOTTED DOWN

If I can find
Five things
That have never been—
I'll see them, then I'll know.

The customary
Things
That never were.

Down to the left
And down two rows
Is the place where the thing
With two noses goes.

Paul

FOUR CONTEXT- FREE POSSIBILITIES:

This clever-adjacent list has no meaning without context, but it occurred to me, so I'm provisionally adding it to the Internets. Perhaps you can provide some context for yourself:

1. You hate it and know you hate it.
2. You hate it but think you enjoy it.
3. You enjoy it but think you hate it.
4. You enjoy it and know you enjoy it.

#66 SUGAR HIGH ON HALLOWEEN CANDY!!!

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The Limits of Science

Science has taught us many things: There's water on mars, the human genome is really big, time and space are all bendy, and a golf ball hit on the surface of the moon will go really far.

But what has science told us about the sandwich? I have two specific questions:

1. Why does a sandwich taste better when someone else makes it?
2. Why does a sandwich taste better when cut in half diagonally?

Get on it, science!

Tonight, on DUMBSHOW . . .

"Tonight on a very special episode of DUMBSHOW, we explore the hidden relationship between cable repair trucks and orange cones. What is the hidden meaning of their symbiotic existence?"

OPINION TIME

What is your opinion about OPINION TIME?

Here is where we will have a frank and open discussion about our opinions about OPINION TIME.

If someone disagrees with you about OPINION TIME, make sure to let them know; tell them your opinion about them disagreeing with your opinion about OPINION TIME. This is constructive.

Do not change your opinion about OPINION TIME under any circumstances, but be certain that with a reasonable argument, you can change another person's opinion about OPINION TIME.

Remember, if someone disagrees with your opinion about OPINION TIME, they are wrong, and their disagreement with your opinion about OPINION TIME is a personal attack. It is best to respond in kind with a personal attack. Insult their character, heredity, or intelligence. This is a sound persuasive tactic that always works, and brings those of differing opinions around to your way of thinking.

OPINION TIME. What is your opinion?

RECEIPT DESIRED?

Today I stopped at a gas station I don't normally frequent because road construction. I filled the tank, replaced the nozzle, replaced the gas cap, and the fuel pump screen said:

RECEIPT DESIRED?

Desired? That's a strong word. It's creepy. It is amazing they were able to cram bad, passive writing into that tiny space. Just give me the receipt. It isn't like:

"Oh Gas Receipt, ever since I first saw you, I had to have you. You are so beautiful Gas Receipt. Run away with me, I must make love to you."

No. It isn't like that at all.

"Da-yum Gas Receipt, you're tight. I would very much like to hit that."

No. I think PRINT RECEIPT? would be the appropriate message.

SMART ANSWERS TO DUMB QUESTIONS

Q: "What's your favorite color?"
A: "Depends on the object."

I FORGOT MY SUNGLASSES

Man it's bright. Jesus, this sun is killing me. Oh man, I forgot my sunglasses. Why? I surf like, every day, and here I am without my friggin' sunglasses. Oh well, can't go back now. Ashley's in there doing that thing in the bathroom. I gotta tell her it's over. How am I gonna do that? Jesus, this sun is like, melting the side of that building. What the hell is going on up there? A crap, a text. Already with the texts. I left the apartment five minutes ago. She can't even spell it out? Three exclamation marks? I'm suffocated. Suffocated. I better text back. If I don't text back, she's gonna send another one. Christ. Terran was right. She's bad news. God, the way she screamed at Luke last night. One drink makes her insane. And that thing in the bathroom. That noise. Crap, another text. What does that even mean? Is she just putting random emojis in texts now? The sun is so friggin' bright. I got to stop drinking. I have to stop drinking, and I have to break up with Ashley right now. I'll text her. God, need some shade, can't see this friggin' phone. Okay, lemme see. crap, caps lock. Lemme try again. God, no. I can't break up with her by text. What's that lady looking at? "I'm just sending a text." Suspicious old woman. Look at that dog. I bet she doesn't pick up the poop when it goes. Probably just buries it in the sand. Jesus, this friggin sun. I wish I had my sunglasses. 

# DOG SKELETONS

And then people started seeing dog skeletons walking around at night. First there were reports of single skeletons, and then packs of ghastly animated skeletal dogs. No one believed the reports at first, but then the sightings were reported nationwide. Each skeleton walking in its own unique way, a permanent toothy snarl on each skull, heads down, as if the habit of sniffing persisted in ghoulish phantasms with no possible olfactory sense. The empty eye sockets were wide and expressionless.

Occasionally a dog collar was spotted, dangling off a short span of spinal chord between the skull and shoulders.

At first people were alarmed, claiming it was a portent of the "end times," but biblical scholars had to admit that packs of dog skeletons fit into no known prophetic writings, old testament or new.  Others conjectured that it was pollution, or radiation, but scientists had to admit they to could find no explanation.

As they passed through the streets at night, the dry, fleshless paws sounded like dry leaves skittering across the pavement, wind or no wind.

Motorists would see them crossing the street. Some would stop and watch the horrifying parade of dog skeletons cross the headlight beams, while others would hit the gas, scattering the bones everywhere, the satisfying crunch of bones sometimes costing them a chipped windshield if a particularly large skull impacted the glass. Later no bones would be found, as the skeletons, animated by some unknown supernatural force, would recombine and continue on toward whatever mysterious destination draws packs of dog skeletons.

CELESTIAL EMPORIUM OF BENEVOLENT KNOWLEDGE

Supposedly taken from an ancient Chinese encyclopædia entitled Celestial Emporium of Benevolent Knowledge.

The list divides all animals into one of 14 categories:

1. Those that belong to the emperor
2. Embalmed ones
3. Those that are trained
4. Suckling pigs
5. Mermaids (or Sirens)
6. Fabulous ones
7. Stray dogs
8. Those that are included in this classification
9. Those that tremble as if they were mad
10. Innumerable ones
11. Those drawn with a very fine camel hair brush
12. Et cetera
13. Those that have just broken the flower vase
14. Those that, at a distance, resemble flies

source: wikipedia

You're perfect.

#61 THE TWISTED TREE

If there's no "us and them"
Then all that's left is one big "we."
And this of course means that
We're "we" in everyone we see.

We're black and white and thin and fat
And freaked-out xenophobes.
We're grandmas with arthritis
We have hoops in our earlobes.

We're crotchety vets from foreign wars
We're kids of meager means.
We're jerks with lanyard keycards,
We're flamboyant painted queens.

We go to church and carry guns
And pray to God above.
We get tattoos and drink
And want equality in love.

We worship Allah, God, or trees
Or aliens in volcanoes.
We worship nothing, drive big cars,
And pick the avocados.

If there's no "us and them"
Then all that's left is one big "we."
And we are all the leaves on
On an enormous family tree.

If you believe in "us and them,"
And need to make a fuss,
Then we'll all be here waiting
Till you realize it's just us.

We're shrill acerbic soccer moms
In tragic yoga pants.
We're homeless bearded mystics
On the sidewalk mumbling rants.

We're all the people in the cars
That ruin your commute.
We're crazy people on the news
That cause you to press "mute."

We're gay and straight and in between
We're from another state.
We're from another country,
And we think our country's great.

We're seven billion people
We're all scrambling for food,
We're all a little frazzled and
And we're often very rude.

We're all in this together,
And we'll sometimes disagree,
But we are one big family
On one twisted family tree.

the annoying

That person at work, or on the news, or on the street, or at the party, or wherever, who is so annoying is not annoying by virtue of their age, or their race, or their gender, or their nationality, or their class, or their politics or their whatever. They are annoying by virtue of being human.  Some people are simply annoying. They are not annoying because of some artificial classification. It is their character, or their circumstance, which is unique to them.

Grouping large numbers of individuals by superficial similarities is a mistake of logic. It is lazy thinking to paint millions of people a certain way in the mind simply by virtue of a few annoying people with whom they share a superficial characteristic.

E.B. White, from his essay, "Here is New York," 1948

RIPOST: FOR USE IN THE PUBLIC DOMAIN:

"I was only trying to be friendly."

"Perhaps you should reexamine your methodology."

WALKING IN A LAKE

The first time I heard the song "Walking in L.A." (1984, Missing Persons) I thought they were saying,

"Walking in a lake / Nobody walks in a lake"

And I found that puzzling. No one walks in the bottom of a lake, but if you go to the beach, you have to walk out to where it is deep enough to swim, usually, if it is a public access beach.

So it seemed inaccurate.

Also, did you know that the lead singer from Missing Persons also played the "Mary" character in Frank Zappa's album, "Joe's Garage?"

# THERE'S A PROBLEM WITH THAT THING

"There's a problem with that thing."

"No there isn't."

"Yes there is. That thing is happening all the time. We could fix the problem. It would take a lot of work, but..."

"No. There isn't a problem. I do not see a problem."

"But what about X, Y, and Z? We need to fix this stuff. Something needs to change."

"Those are isolated incidents. They are not connected in any way. All circumstances and events exist in a vacuum."

"They are a trend. They are a symptom of a bigger issue."

"No they aren't. Can you give me a specific example?"

"A couple, but there are so many..."

"If you can't give me twenty specific examples, right now, off the top of your head, there isn't a problem. If you give me twenty examples, I'll ask for twenty-one examples."

"This Thing is a problem. It's complicated and involves..."

"I don't see it. It isn't affecting me, so it isn't a problem..."

"It's a problem."

"Do you have a specific solution, that you can describe completely, right now? Is it foolproof and perfect, as all plans are foolproof and perfect?"

"Well no..."

"See? Then there is no problem, and even if there was a problem, which there isn't, it can't be fixed because there is no perfect solution that is easy, and involves no sacrifice. No problem."

"But..."

"Nope. End of discussion. I have to go do things now. Also, booze now. I do not have time for this. Things are going well for me, so there is no problem. Booze now, and sports. Booze now?"

"Yes, booze I suppose."

~~~  LATER ~~~

"Can you believe that thing that happened on the news!? It is awful and terrible! This will briefly make me somewhat sad, for a few days, or hours!!"

"Yes. I can believe it. I don't see why you are surprised. It is part of the thing we were talking about the other day, these things are connected."

"No. There is no problem. That is not a real problem. We don't need to fix it, it isn't a problem."

"You don't see how that led to this?"

"No. It is another isolated incident. I have to go do things now that are important to me. Work stuff now. Booze later, and also, sports."

cargo shorts

HEAD DOWN (look at the phone)

MUSICIANS! I have just composed this masterpiece, which I give to the public domain, for use in performances etc, etc. YOU ARE WELCOME!

downloadable .pdf of this masterpiece found here: http://www.danmanning.com/music/phonehead.pdf

it's a bit silly

AN AMAZING DISCOVERY!

OH MY GOD YOU GUYS!

I was just listening to the 1973 Steve Miller Band song, "The Joker," and I think I've stumbled across something in the lyrics.

I suspect that the line, "really love your peaches / wanna shake your tree" may have NOTHING to do with the peach tree (prunus persica), or the harvesting of the fruit from that tree, but something altogether different.  (I think it is a reference to sex stuff.)

I'm going to investigate this further, and keep you posted.

Just thought you'd want to know. 

# LET'S FOCUS ON DUMB, SUPERFICIAL THINGS, FOR FREEDOM

An old guy who won a track-and-field event 39 years ago got a sex-change operation.

Unless there's some potential for romantic involvement, for a mature, thinking person, another person's gender should be one of the least interesting and least important attributes about that person.

If the winner of the men's decathlon event at the 1976 Summer Olympics in Montreal wants to change genders, then good for him, that's his business.

If an annoying professional "exister" on an annoying reality show wants to change genders, then good for him. That's his business.

That annoying person on that annoying reality show will probably still be annoying, because, for most situations, gender does not matter.

Unless there's some potential for romantic involvement, for a mature, thinking person, another person's gender should be one of the least interesting and least important attributes about that person.

It might be important to that other person, and that’s fine. Respect that.

But really, for most situations, when interacting with other humans in non-romantic things, gender is unimportant.
People who make a big deal about superficial things are like large, dumb children.

The only person who should be concerned about the gender of the winner of the men's decathlon event at the 1976 Summer Olympics in Montreal is the winner of the men's decathlon event at the 1976 Summer Olympics, or somebody who is trying to fuck the winner of the men's decathlon event at the 1976 Summer Olympics in Montreal.

Are you hoping to be romantically involved with the winner of the men's decathlon event at the 1976 Summer Olympics? Are you currently romantically involved with the winner of the men's decathlon event at the 1976 Summer Olympics?

No? Then the gender of the winner of the men's decathlon event at the 1976 Summer Olympics doesn't matter.

An old guy who won a track-and-field event 39 years ago got a sex-change operation.

#58 ODE TO NYQUIL

Sweet nectar of the Lotus Flower
Purveyor of uneven dreams
Ferryman to Lovecraftian ScreamScapes
Sweet vapory drops of Mind-Twisting visions

Dropper of Heavy-Lidded slumbers

So careful do I approach
The doors of your subterranean grumbles
The mangled half-understood phrases
Overheard in uneasy dreams.

Oh Bringer of Deathlike Lethe—
The blue-tinged landscapes of
Unspeakable Horror and Impossible Dares
Beyond Euclidian Space and Linear Time

Strike down these cloggy bellows—
Sick with the weakness
Of traitorous health

Lower me slowly
To your undersea realm—
Where illogical thoughts skip
Wildly through unfamiliar
Copper-Sunlit towns

{Groggy jaunts to the
Midnight toilet
Bleary-eyed and eager to return
To Blissful Vapor-Sleep}

Oh NyQuil!
Key to the
Forbidden Unholy Bacchanal!
Of haunted Seventies Discos
And Parallel movie sets!
Conversations with the Dead
Skydiving with Manatees and
Oscar Wilde

Having a sandwich
With Sally Struthers
In World War One trenches
Half-caught visions in
Unnamed haunted regions.

Soothed,
Murmur-rocked smoothed
In a cool roof—lumbering
Feather-drift easy—like decent
Into dewy fluid sway,
Wavy vapor shady
With a gradual casual stir
To the demur.
Apostle castle
Namaste taste vanilla flavor
Navel gaze raze to the vapor haze.
Groovy chode toad
In a mellow abode.

Oh Nyquil! Thou has shown me
The Face of God

My balloon-like limbs
Sway in your reedy-whispered
Willow Gardens—

To traverse desert landscapes
Under star-strewn nights
Warm vaporous sleep to ancient cities
To find the texts
Of dark philosophies

Oh NyQuil! This mild sickness
Is my excuse—to travel with you
To alternate realities—
You are the doorway—the key.

Odd voices give ill advice
And shadowy figures move
At impossible angles.
Judgmental angels give sidelong glances
As they drink coffee.

I would awake from this,
But I have yet to fall asleep—
And then it will begin.
And in that dream, I'll dream.

In that dream, I'll find pen and paper
And write again this very page
And drop the notebook there
And fall asleep again, within a dream.

# AN INSIDIOUS TYPE OF BLOG POST

I want to warn you all about an insidious type of blog post. These posts are ironically self-referential, disguised as warnings about ironically self-referential blog posts. They are pointless and lead nowhere, but the goal of these posts is to entice the reader (you) into reading further, although the sentences, using apparently interesting multisyllabic, technical sounding words, lead nowhere. These posts often repeat themselves. They frequently say the same thing over and over again, but using different phrasing. Posts of this kind often describe themselves using the very characteristics of the blog posts they claim to be warning others to avoid. In fact, the posts are those very posts to be avoided, but by the time this is revealed, the reader has invested enough time on the blog post to continue reading, hoping for some payoff. Perhaps there is some insight hidden within the somewhat scientific-sounding jargon. It seems quite possible, that later in the blog post, the reader will find some comment on social-awareness, or some information regarding the psychology of ironically self-referencing posts. This is an illusion; the reader will gain no benefit from continuing to read this type of post, but even after several warnings, they continue to read. It is as if the blog post is physically pulling the eye across the meaningless symbols, forcing the mind to strive to combine the words into some coherent message, where none exists. It is a type of symbiotic madness, shared between the writer of the blog post, and the reader. For as the post is both written and read, the reader and writer are locked, however briefly in the same blog post. It is a type of suspended animation, because really, neither of us are doing anything useful, are we? The blog post will sometimes try to insinuate some connection between the reader and the post itself. They have been together a long time. It would be heartbreaking if there were no payoff, no point to any of this. Why did we read this?

So anyway, I just wanted to let you guys know that these types of posts are out there, and to be aware of them. If you run across one, don't read it! But perhaps it is too late.

I made a new chess set.