This 2013 thing hasn’t worked out all that well for me. I’m considering saying Screw It and moving to 2014. Still thinking. Maybe in a month or so, if things don’t improve.
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Wahoo, Christmas season! Inflatable Santa and Frosty! Inflatable Rudolph and Snoopy! Inflatable Penguin and Husky, Scooby and Teddy and Charlie Brown! And most of all, Inflatable Snow Globe with Real Floating Snowflakes Action!
Bring ‘em on! I’m READY!!
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Just this morning, I decided the Flying Spaghetti Monster could be called Skettymon in informal usage. I hope he doesn’t take offense and strike me down, but “The Flying Spaghetti Monster” in some uses is just too much of a – ha! – mouthful.
Holy Skettymon!
Skettymon bless you!
For the love of Skettymon!
See? Skettymon, Skettymon, Skettymon. Much easier on the tongue.
Plus, the final syllable graces the Pasta with Rasta, giving it a cool Jamaican sound.
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I know we liberal-progressives are supposed to never wish anyone ill. But does that mean we have to stand by and pretend to be sad when bad stuff DOES happen to certain people?
Because, really, there are people who SUBTRACT from the goodness of the world. Wealthy, influential, famous people who make the world a worse place, just by being themselves, doing the things they do. Sure, it would be wrong to gather up in well-armed bands to pursue them and gut them like fish … but don’t we have the right to a quiet chuckle when life itself pays them their due?
Dick Cheney, Sarah Palin, Fox News execs — some of you vicious bastards, I don’t think even the Virgin Mary would shed a tear over your demise. Assuming I outlive you, I expect to someday enjoy a hearty guffaw in honor of your wasted, ugly lives.
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When Dick Cheney dies, I’m hoping technology will allow us to raise flags to one and a half times the height of the flagpole.
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I was thinking yesterday about how we view surgery. We say someone went in for a triple bypass and it was “completely successful” and that the patient will now be able to resume normal life. We have a sort of blithe picture of the seriousness of the thing, confident that surgical patients will somehow be “back on their feet again in no time, better than ever!”
But my own, relatively minor surgery – gallbladder removal – was accompanied by some noticeable side effects. I vomited for 8 hours after I got home, I passed out in the bathroom and bashed the hell out of my head while falling, and I experienced an episode of erratic heartbeat a day or so after that lasted only about half a minute but scared the hell out of me. There were (are) some long-term adjustments too; they’ve seemed minor, but they’re definitely there.
The truth is, I doubt that ANY invasive surgery is something you just sail through. Even the anesthesiologist at the hospital told me the anesthetic wasn’t good for you. (I suspect that short bout of erratic heartbeat was an after-effect of the anesthetic.)
In my own case, it was a fair trade. I had pain that was constant, long-term and debilitating. But it WAS a trade, not a free gift.
Never doubt it: Surgery is serious shit. Not something you want to just waltz into with perfect confidence and no questions.
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I’m pretty sure gay marriage destroyed Comet ISON.
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Every time you post a free picture of a kitten online, you throw a poor, starving cat photographer out of work. Every single one of them end up working in the Wal-Mart Family Portrait Studio.
You bastards.
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A reminder on merchant-specific gift cards: If you give people CASH …
1) it costs less.
2) which means, they get more benefit.
3) besides which, it can be spent anywhere.
4) meaning, they’re not locked into Dunkin Donuts coffee, when what they really want is Starbucks.
5) also besides which, CASH is the one gift that never gets returned, unused or regifted.
To heck with the colorful $10 gift card. Tuck a colorful $10 BILL in there instead.
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Ah, Friday, you bewitching wench. At last you arrive, with your spicy see-through Only 8 More Hours gown, sultry hints of Saturday and Sunday shining seductively through.
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Don’t you ever think there aren’t REAL conspiracies against environmentalists and progressives. This shit happens every damned day, at every level. They put immense amounts of money into derailing activists.
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Heh. I was just thinking: My mom taught me there’s a way to say “I love you” that sends the other person fleeing across three states. It’s cloying, grabby, demanding, guilt-projecting, and nerve-shredding.
Whew. Bad old days. One of the reasons I never did family. It’s also why I don’t often say “I love you.” —But when I do say it, I damned sure know how to mean just that, and not that other thing.
(And no, you don’t have permission to feel sorry for me. Nobody gets through life without slogging through a swamp or two.)
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I’m generally in favor of the freedom to own guns. But I’m also WAY in favor of regulation.
One definitive law I’d like to see: If you or any gun you own are involved in an accidental shooting, you lose all ownership rights, and are never allowed to own or hunt again.
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Overheard groaner: Yo mama’s so ugly that when she was a little girl she had to trick or treat by phone.
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If you haven’t read Atlas Shrugged, go easy on commenting on what it’s all about. Most of what I hear about it, both from its detractors (my side of the political-philosophical aisle) and its idiot fans (that other side) are obviously from people who haven’t read it, and don’t have any idea what’s in it (except what they’ve heard from others – jibes and praise from people who also probably haven’t read it).
Yeah, you might hate Ayn Rand with a passion, and that’s fine with me. But if you’re going to critique the BOOK, I suggest you read it.
And if your response to this suggestion is something along the lines of “I read the first chapter and just couldn’t go on,” to me that says something about YOUR attention span rather than the quality of Rand’s writing. I had no trouble at all reading it, several times, and actually thinking about it over a period of several years.
As to the philosophy detailed in it being about nothing but selfishness – no, it’s not. It’s a complex and brilliant work in which Rand got some things profoundly wrong, other things very right.
And by the way, from what I know of her from her writing, Rand would have vomited to learn that she’d become some sort of saint to the teabaggers. She would have violently despised both them and their congressional counterparts.
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Decisions, decisions. I’ve brushed my teeth already. But there’s pumpkin pie and whipped cream.
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Every morning I wake up energized, thinking “I’m going to be different and better today!” And every evening I go to bed knowing I spent the whole day still being me.
Shoot.
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If we lived in the world where Clark Kent could never be recognized as Superman, every kid with new glasses coming back to school after winter break would instantly be challenged by his schoolmates:
Who are you and why are you sitting at Billy’s desk? What have you done with him? Talk, you bastard!
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I’m sure I’m not the first person to think of this, but …
It’s funny that they named him Dexter, when he’s so Sinister.
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One of the things on my list of Life Goals is to hug a lion before I die.
Probably I should leave that one for the very last.
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If I was an acupuncturist, every day on the way to work I’d walk through crowds poking random people with pins.
Hey, it’s for their own good. Like vitamins added to bread, really.
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It’s interesting to me, in a distant way, that people care about their ancestry. Other than a family legend on my mom’s side that we’re all descended from a “full-blooded Indian chief” (a fantasy, I suspect) I don’t know much about my forbears. I actually met only ONE of my grandparents – my grandmother on my mother’s side – and have no idea what became of the others.
I attribute my good health to “mutt vigor,” and joke that I’m descended from a long line of trailer trash. “My people lived next to the train tracks and had chariots up on blocks in the driveway as far back as Ancient Egypt.” But other than the fact that some large percentage of my RECENT ancestors were Caucasian, I don’t know the least thing about them.
Would it make me feel better to know that I’m descended from Ben Franklin – or Sally Hemings! – or have royalty in my line? I don’t THINK so, but … who knows? I might find myself bragging about it, as if it somehow made ME a better person. When really, considering the remoteness of such links even if known, I might just as well brag about being a Homo sapiens, or a mammal.
Existing without preconceptions about who and what I follow, living as a genetic island, I focus on discovering and being the best ME I can be. That’s challenge enough.
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A cop friend once told me he really believed a lot of people got into crime because they were literally too stupid to do anything else.
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Seems to me it would be pretty easy to have a permanent setting on the shower that would be the EXACT temperature you want. I mean, as an engineering problem, *I* already figured an easy way to accomplish this.
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I hope those book-delivering Amazon drones also take out terrorists. There are a couple of people in my neighborhood that seem a little iffy.
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Within the broad complexities of human society, I think there’s a Man Tribe and a Woman Tribe. Neither totally understands the other, but both also have things they keep to themselves deliberately.
One of the current problems with online socializing is that the Woman Tribe doesn’t appreciate the Man Tribe’s sense of humor, and the Man Tribe forgets this fact in the midst of open discussion.
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When I was younger, I thought the toilet paper roll end should go on the inside, next to the wall, so it looked neater. Now I know the roll end should go on the outside, so it’s easier to find.
Never tell me you can’t grow smarter as you get older.
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Open-mindedness is rarer than diamonds. With any novel idea, most people approach it like bad critics go to see movies. They WORK to find something wrong with it, something bad about it. Any discussion that follows is nothing more than an argument about why they have to be right, and you wrong. Everything you might say in attempting to get them to take a broader or more progressive view of the thing, they can find some reason not to do that.
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Now I’m wondering if commercial airline pilots spend a lot of time texting.
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Hey, Hollywood! Where’s my movie of The Stars My Destination? I’m still waiting here, guys.
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As a culture, we’re too optimistic, both in our own lives and in a larger sense of the way things are going in the world. If we were a bit more pessimistic, I think we’d have a clearer view of how much is going wrong, and take a more serious look at how to fix it.
On the other hand, that clearer view of our own lives would probably bring a sharp uptick in the number of suicides in Wal-Mart parking lots.
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I think all childhood vaccinations should be given on Christmas Day. It would get the kids through the ordeal on an otherwise happy day, but it would also cut down on the little tykes demanding extra presents.
“Oh, look what Bobby got! Bobby, it’s another syringe! Let’s see what this one’s for!”
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I guess I should just go ahead and confess this. I know I seem like a science fan and all, but …
I have never once in my life held an Erlenmeyer Flask up to the light and peered intently at a mysterious blue liquid.
In my defense, I only went to college two years. Probably Blue-Liquid-Filled Erlenmeyer Flasks were covered in the third year.
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Can I just call you Hovawits? Jehovah’s Witnesses is just so looooong. And I’m not holding this door open forever, guys.
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No f*cking way I’m going shopping on THANKSGIVING DAY to join in that silly Black Friday madness. Count me out, corporate America.
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Someone brought a BABY to the freethinker’s group breakfast. I guess nobody told her there would be hungry atheists there.
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A few days ago, I watched a guy walk within 3 feet of a public trash can and casually throw a big greasy sandwich wrapper on the sidewalk. I wanted to kick his legs out from under him and pound his face into the concrete.
If there’s ever an anarchist movement that wears Mr. Clean masks, I’m in.
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“In God We Trust” was adopted by Congress in 1956. I was born in 1952! I’m older than God! (The one it talks about on our money, anyway.)
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“If you buy a $1,000 TV for $600, you haven’t ‘saved’ $400. You’ve spent $600.”
Exactly. They set the original price, which was higher than you’d pay for the thing. Then they set the “sale” price, which persuades you that you’re getting this great deal, so you part with the money.
First they set the high price and capture all the people who have money enough to spend on the thing. When sales taper off, they bump the price downward, so they capture the slightly lower socioeconomic group willing to part with THAT amount of money. Repeat as necessary.
Because those poorer people? Most of them aren’t going to buy some lesser TV. They’re not going to buy any TV at all.
But when they see that fantastic “sale” price and discover they can actually SAVE $400, they’re suddenly certain they can’t pass up this limited-time deal. They’re going to get a fantastic TV and save hundreds of dollars.
Result: The TV manufacturer offloads onto you a thing you DIDN’T ORIGINALLY WANT. It probably wasn’t on your list of future purchases, or built into any sort of budget. The made you want it.
I repeat: THEY MADE YOU WANT IT.
They trick you into buying, and you, with nobody to tell you there’s this other way to look at all these sales and special offers and coupons, fall for it.
The richer people get shanked too, though. After all, THEY bought the thing at its original inflated price. If you buy the TV for $1,000, and a day later the store drops the price to $600 … where did YOUR $400 savings go? Right: Nowhere. Into the pockets of the manipulative, lying merchandiser.
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I’m starting a new international group, Cartographers Without Borders.
We’re not quite sure what our eventual goals are, but we’re certain it involves something other than drawing lines on maps.
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Thanksgiving: On Alternate Earth, everybody ate moa. (Their ovens must be a LOT bigger!)
The cool thing about Thanksgiving on Alternate Earth is that moa drumsticks are the only known food which can also double as a lethal weapon. Even in the bad part of town, nobody messes with you on Thanksgiving.
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You non-horsey people probably can’t imagine falling asleep while riding a horse, but on a long ride in the wilderness, it’s definitely possible.
One a side note, one of the really cool things about a trail-wise horse is that he always knows the way home. If you get lost, drop the reins and relax. He’ll get you there.
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My motto is: NEVER GIVE A LIVING THING AS A SURPRISE GIFT.
Do I have to explain that? Hope not.
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One of the many great things about Canadians is that you can poke fun at them without provoking a scream of “OH MY GOD OH MY GOD, WHY DO YOU HAAAAATE CANADIANS? WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOOOOUUU???”
They just go “That’s funny, eh? Hey, how about those Maple Leafs?”
I put it down to a really solid sense of national self esteem.
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I’ve never known a teacher who did an 8-hour-a-day job. They ALL did homework.
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Haircut today! Yay!
Yes, when you get older, your life really is this boring. (I do plan to go out and hunt velociraptors later. Okay, I’m not saying I’ll catch any, but I’ll sure be looking.)
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For weeks, someone was sending me vegetables in the mail – celery, rhubarb, swiss chard and asparagus.
Finally I realized I was being stalked.
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Realized something today:
On a social platform known as FACEbook, I interact daily with hundreds of people …
… whose faces I have never actually seen.
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Just now trying to figure out why my mouse isn’t working, I finally realize I’m rubbing my cellphone around on the desktop.
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Cat food flavors conspicuous by their absence:
Mouse
Chipmunk
Songbird
Innocent Little Spider on the Wall
Cream
Unidentified Bug
Cat Ass
Human Hand
Baby Rabbit
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I keep on saying this: Atheist Groups should NEVER put up a billboard, display or monument without first putting up a number of hidden cameras around the thing, so the proud vandals can get their needed public exposure.
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Thoughts on Daylight Savings Time:
Wait, Obama’s now forcing us to SET OUR CLOCKS BACK ONE HOUR?? Hey, I voted for a president, not a dictator!
Next think you know, it’ll be that communist-inspired metric system.
You can have my pounds and inches when you pry them from my cold, dead waist!
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“If you’re not doing anything wrong, what do you have to hide?” always translates in my mind to “If I’m not doing anything wrong, why should I be treated like the people who are?”
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When I saw Disney’s Beauty and the Beast, I was actually disappointed when the big beautiful Beast changed into that wimpy prince. I was thinking “Hey, if she fell in love with the Beast, what makes anybody think she’s going to feel the same about Prince Blandington Sissyknickers?”
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Someday I want to hear a drug advertisement on TV where that fast-talking voice at the end says “Side effects may include good hair days, rock-hard buns, unaccountable social poise, and sustained periods of motivation and energy. Consult your doctor if you have the sudden desire to go on a hike lasting four hours or more.”
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If someone you know uses the words “irregardless,” or “supposably,” it’s okay to put duct tape over his mouth and slap him repeatedly.
I think it’s an actual rule.
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When I die and the universe ends, it’s going to be really rough on the rest of you. I’d like to be immortal and all, so you could go on with your lives and stuff, but being the center of everything can only take you so far.
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I still say professional golf would be a lot more edgy and exciting if one ball in every hundred was filled with a powerful explosive.
But maybe that’s just me.
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Couldn’t get on Facebook for a couple of hours. I was sure it was the Rapture, and all the Christians in tech support had gone off to Heaven.
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If YOU call ME, don’t be carrying on a conversation with someone else when I answer, and then make me wait until you’re done.
Hey, I was busy when you called. I stopped doing what I was doing so I could see what you wanted. I figured it was important, that you needed to talk to me right NOW, or you wouldn’t have called. But if you’re too busy to respect my time like I just respected yours, I’m hanging up on you instantly.
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As an atheist, my only plan for the afterlife is to have a surprised mortician say “Holy shit! This man has no tattoos!”
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When I got my German shepherd Ranger the Valiant Warrior many years ago, I had lots of people tell me “Never give a puppy a shoe to chew on. They can’t tell the difference between the shoe you give them and your other shoes, and they’ll chew up your good shoes.”
I have to believe the people who said that had some really stupid dogs. Ranger recognized his shoe, the Puppy Shoe, and never once gnawed on my others. But then again, the Puppy Shoe was FUN. I’d put it on the end of a string and swing it around. He got to chase and catch it, and I got to tell him how wonderful and smart and fast he was for catching that wily thing.
Glory Days.
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I’ve gotten an extremely unusual – for me, anyway – surge of energy and spent all day yesterday and today cleaning and organizing my room and computer files. I’m far from done, but I’m able to WALK AROUND in here, and I now know where ALL my photos, ALL my voice notes are on my hard drive. Usually I have to slither through the room, dodging this pile and that, and I’ve spent as much as three days searching for a single file on my computer.
I’m betting it’s some sort of rare brain tumor causing it all. I’ll probably get fully organized for the first time in my life, and then my head will just explode.
Later, weeping admirers will tour the site of my genius, and will say “Oh, he was so ORGANIZED and tidy! Would you look at it – every paper in its place! He’s even folded and matched the socks in his sock drawer. Organization … that must be how he accomplished it all.”
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I live in a place where the main downtown library is a 10 minute walk from my apartment.
Great, huh? But my subconscious has recalibrated so that NOW I want the library to be open all night and to have a coffee house inside.
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Back during the government shutdown, it occurred to me that the shutdown was not some unintended side-effect, but the actual goal of the Teapublicans. They INTENDED to destroy the U.S. government. Everything else is fluff.
That’s treason, that is.
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My “Glass is Half Full” haiku to closed National Parks:
Clear stream sings to self,
Mountain soars, alone, unseen.
Bear wanders in peace.
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Replying to a couple of people I deFriended over negative Richard Dawkins comments:
The problem for me is that there’s this large part of the atheist movement fixating on Dawkins, actively working to tear him down. And that pisses me off. It’s shortsighted and malignant.
I thought Hitchens was a complete idiot on Iraq. He never apologized for it, either, near as I can tell. And in that business, lots and lots of people died. But I still have immense respect and admiration for Hitchens. I still feel VASTLY grateful for what he’s done for atheism and atheists.
I feel the same way about Dawkins. But to some people, Dawkins is a target now. They’re LOOKING for reasons to hate him, to publicly denigrate him.
I don’t like that. I never will. I won’t be friends with people who do it.