Life in Blabberville

You can’t throw away glue…(and even if you can it wasn’t real good glue to start with.)

And now another exciting episode in the continuing day-time, and part-time drama of, “Life in Blabberville”:  Our hero, recalling the subversive idea regarding the “ultimate triumph of talk,” suddenly realizes the futility of being mechanically taciturn, but understands the benefit of remembering the above very, very, very, very often.

Can you see that in intellectual worlds wherein power is perceived to be divided between good, supreme gods, and evil, subordinate anti-gods, that men apparently serving the former are, perforce, unknowingly toiling for the lesser force.  (By now, some of you should clearly realize that such as this is indicative of worlds far beyond any ideas of irony, past any sense of justice, and outside the orbit even, of truth and reality.)

In a world of limited, that is, known, dimensions, no envelope can ever expand enough to hold itself.  Even as knowledge increases, man’s need equally expands, and thus the needs are never filled.

Whilst conversing with a neighbor, this one guy says, “Frogmyer, if indeed that is your real name, Frogmyer, there are three kinds of talk: motor, limbic and cerebral,”…and his son broke in saying, “You forgot liquor.”  And the ole man realized that he himself was at least ninety proof, proof of the kid’s observation.

J.