I Could Have Danced All Night

A friendly dietician I danced with, attempting, I suspect, to waltz her way even closer to the area of terpsichorean certainty, confided to my nearest ear that, “The words most commonly misspelled and mispronounced are seldom those words seldomly used.”  (I could have dan-n-ced all night, dan-n-ced all night).

Those who hate the gods, mistrust the kings, and the anti-royalists are everywhere the spine of the revolution.

A real dummy will always hire his brother-in-law.

When plague hit, all who were not dying from it were talking about it, (except for a few who could see beyond the horizon of the clock).

Only the simplistic think that they should be where their brain is at all times.

J.

When Reason Fails

Few can see beyond the time when all reason fails, and space is destroyed.

Each time
you mock,
you cauterize
a neural input.

Remember this:  Anything you think impossible – the words are here to prove it.

If the question
is feminine
the answer
is masculine.

Well, one good thing, by god, about being ordinary is that you ALWAYS know what to do next…(even if you say you don’t and even if you don’t like it.)

J.

No Reasonable Offer

If the “totally new” still seems too distant, consider for now that, “Revision is the name of the game.”

The current motto of this one exorbitant world is, “No Reasonable Offer Considered Reasonable.”

One of the cuter aspects of humans is that they, without exception, and without hesitation, all believe that to “work on oneself” means to be “down on oneself.”  (I guess it’s just…but it’s still cute.)

Whilst lunching the other Saturday, I was seated next to a welder who had tattooed on his forehead, “Shake Well Before Using.”

After being continually urged not to talk about it, one novice Revolutionist retorted that talking about it was “half the fun,” and was quickly told that if he DID talk about it, half the fun is about all he’ll ever have.

J.

Bullets Can't Remember

A certain intergalactic gadabout, sotto voce, told me that in his desire to remain widely welcome in his travels, and true to his allegiance to progress, that in the many conflicts that arise here and everywhere, between “bullets and the flesh” he always sides with flesh, inasmuch as bullets can’t remember and the flesh never forgets.

While accidentally attending an unfitted seminar over near the Zone Seven landfill, a gentleman cornered me in the hall, between the unscheduled lectures, and told me that he was almost “certainly certain that god is trying to communicate with man through human speech.”

Allegory Alert Code Beta-Green:

Or, Can Similitudes Ever Be Safely Predicted In Reference To Their Obese, One Legged, Hunch-backed, and Otherwise, Generally Unattractive Ruler.  One of the mistresses said to her sister, “You haven’t lived until you’ve seen him naked, and then you no longer want to.”

Another deity I met, (whose family coat-of-arms bears the epigram, “We Don’t Mind Being Devine”), said he would have heard of my other recorded notations regarding his particular undertaking, and he said he wanted to go on record by stating that what he liked best about being a god is that “every day is pay day.”  (Oh, and he also adds, “Plus, you can’t be fired.”)

A certain burly green grocer, obviously miscomprehending the intent of the phrase, has, upon hearing the axiom, “Looks can kill,” studiously avoided all mirrors.

J.

DoItYourSelfer

To do well in the ordinary world, at ordinary things, you would do well to just be ordinary. (This advice comes to you free of all charges and encumbrances.)

Those who feel they simply must justify themselves, ultimately, cannot.

Upon hearing the axiom, “Having the right tools is having the job half done,” one enterprising chap mused to himself, “My gawd, what might be the commercial implications of this in the intellectual, do-it-your-selfer market?!”

In what I suppose was a fit of well meaning allegory, a certain father told his sapling, “Son, if your name’s Natty Bumppo, get thee to a place of fiction – quick!”

While recently out of the galaxy on an important, non-existent, business trip, I ran into a gang of inter-stellar, out-law accountant bikers, who recognized me and swore of their interest in matters “out of the galaxy, important, and non-existent,” (just as I mentioned) and to evidence their claim, several of them rolled up their eye lids and showed me their team tattoo which read, “Plurality of thought, singularity of purpose.”

J.

Fixer-Upper

A sailor I was drinking with had this to say, “With intelligence as my principal, I will expect its ensuing interest to be phenomenal.”

On yet another little planet I recently visited, they have this service available to intellectually “match people up,” and one guy, (apparently I say, apparently), confusing it with real estate sales, listed himself as a, “great little fixer-upper,” and “a do-it-yourselfers delight.”

There’s certain privilege in not being any particular sort of thing.

The leader of a band of loose woven revolutionists, with a history of erratically realized, proposed meeting schedules, announced that instead of each person being contacted on a Monday regarding a tentative Tuesday meeting, hence forth each member would call a number where through they would hear one or two possible recorded musical tones, either a B-sharp, or a double-flatted-C, to signify whether the meeting was “on or off.”  In their opinion, some found this confusing, some found it annoying, while others found it unnecessary, but they ALL found their pay checks docked for having an opinion.

Since the old man had no material wealth to pass on from his dying bed, he offered this advice, “Regarding men in all matters non-lethal, never take the serious seriously.”

J.

The Game Theory

One semi-retired sore-head, upon first hearing the term, “The Game Theory,” snorted, “Hah! It ain’t no theory.”

One listener told me tha, although he did have some understanding of the revolution “having no name,” that to himself he still oftimes thought of it as being, “The Increasing Ability To Tell Friend From Foe.”  (I did kinda like that, and almost told him what would be the natural extension of it, to wit, “And The Ultimate Blurring Of The Two.")

While firmly in his favorite chair, this typesetter announced, “You can shave your head, you can shave some points in the game, but you can’t make a ‘clean sweep’ if the Sahara has the home field advantage.”  To wit, his mate’s voice replied, “At times, you enunciate some of the most profound ideas subject to human comprehension, and at other times, what you say is incongruity writ-large and in neon, and the problem has now become that I have increasing difficulty distinguishing between the two.”  (Three to one, she will eventually write me a letter about this.)

This other little guy tugged at my sleeve and told me, “My trick is that I always try to think in over my head.”

Last month I stumbled across this little young planet, (its name started with an “S”…I don’t really recall, but it was something like either the “Safe Planet,” or the “Sluggish Planet,” or something there-abouts...at any rate), what was interesting was that there, you even receive detailed user directions with pencils and toilet paper.

J.

I See

One up-and-coming sore-head confidently confided to moi that he considers the odds of ordinary people ever becoming “truly intelligent,” about the same as that of Sisyphus dreaming of downhill racing.

When it came to the exported expansion, and passionate proselytization of new knowledge, one rather self-contained chap said, “I am a missionary to myself.”

A plumber recently graced me with the following thought-faucet (sez he): “What is the most important call of words?  Well, consider this:  We would not have our modern storehouse of knowledge without books; we would not have books without titles, and, we would not have titles without prepositions – go figure.”  (That’s what he sez, alright.)

When on a provocative and productive intellectual roll, this one guy would acknowledge his neural processors by referring to them as, “That Inner Gang Of Hot Shots.”

No matter the force of certainty, no matter the sincerity of purpose, and no matter even the validity of the words, saying you “see something” is never the same as seeing it.

J.

In a Land of No Restrictions...

At those times when some about him moved to wax philosophically about the trials and travails of life, this one guy would always nod knowingly and comment, “Indeed, it is a hard row we all must plow,” until one day he thought, off to himself, “Hey, just what is my crop?”

During a discussion regarding the nature of fame, a farmer noted that, as opposed to the usual situation of a person being identified by the two parts of his given and his family name, that somebody’s really become important when, like a Moses, a Shakespeare, or Picasso, the world knows you by just “one name,” and his hired hand stopped and thought, “Wow! Just consider the implications then of being known by NO NAME!”

Casanova’s great-granddaughter tells me that a distinctly pleasurable part of her childhood was in growing up hearing the “unenlightened discuss enlightenment.”

Another fairly local deity added his two centimeters worth by saying that the best thing he liked about being a god was that you “don’t HAVE to play-it-as-it-lays.”

In a land of no restrictions, what you know, ARE predictions.

J.

Where Else?

One part-time salesman, part-time thinker, recently posed the following question: “In the overall scheme of things, specifically regarding questions of origins, and ‘first causes,’ I have one question: How does a bus driver get to work?

An ambassador lunched with me last Thursday and confided to me that in these later years in his life he had truly bloomed, and that he felt specifically fulfilled now that he possessed a ’39 Bugatti once owned by the Duke of Waverly in the afternoon.

Over in the more commercial precinct, I ran across a fellow who was on a quest to find THE Religion – just right for him,” and in his extensive travels, whenever he would meet with an adherent to a particular belief, he had but one test question he presented to them one and all; he queried them as to whether they, “Pictured their god in boxers or jacket shorts?”

During that recent, unfortunate lull, a dentist told me that the names you see on books are not actually who wrote them, and that none of the publishers, public, or writers are aware of this fact…(he also claims that no one seems harmed by this).

Some more of my correspondence that you may enjoy:

“Where do you find all of those people who tell you such interesting stuff?

Sincerely,"
R.T.W.”
Dear R.T.:
Where else!

J.

If Your Father Is Bach

The most unforgettable advice one lad received from his retreating Pater was, “Never invite a one eyed hyena to a buffet.”  (And to think, today, this lad is a father himself.)

In-the-future it’s not enough to “say you’re sorry,” you must also kill the person you say it to.

When they showed this one guy the tumor they had removed from his brain he became very upset in that he realized they had removed his brain, and left the tumor.

Okay, “Expansion Alert”:
If you father is Bach,
TELL them you want
to play the drums.

The first voice said, “Without man there is no humor.” Second voice responds, “Without man there is no NEED for humor.”

J.

Looking into Causes

If the question’s on the right, the answer’s on the left.

While
“looking into causes”
many people
become them.

Question:  What could be better than knowing you could do better than you do?
Answer:     Nothing.  Aye, wait, you didn’t think I was gonna say…naw, surely you didn’t think that.

Inasmuch as you haven’t been invited to do so recently, herein, you may confidently, “Trust me on this one,” a guy that “knows it all,” never “tells it all.”

One pandemic sore-head holds his head, swaying with perverse pleasure while telling me that a sure “sign of our times" – of ALL times, is the intergalactic proliferation of the old question, "Is stupid spelled with one, or two E’s?”

J.

What's New?

A certain revolutionist biker had this to say, “One thing I truly enjoy about my-kinda-info is that you can turn it inside out, shrink it, bleach it, lend it out to a friend, never have it returned, and it’s STILL yours, useful and “just right.”

One son would always say, “Hey, it’s not as hard as it looks,” and his brother would always say, “Things are not as easy as they appear,” and their mother, who has some aspirations of “pulling herself together,” one day called them both together and set them on fire.

In the throes of some sort of fit or another, a man cried out, “If the4 gods be with us, who can be against us?”  And another voice, apparently un-throed, cried back, “Their in-laws!”  (Case closed.)

If it’s not initially
impossible,
unwarranted,
or frightening –
it’s not new.

The literate nephew of one of the old sore-heads recently remarked, “Should our reasonable concern really be over the question of whether ‘machines are becoming too smart,’ or whether men are becoming too dumb.”  (Hey, do we see a future for the lad, or what?)

J.

Story Time

Over their aperitifs, Plato mused, “It’s hard to be original in your own home town,” to which Mendelssohn added, “Palaces built on landfills will always smell of garbage.”  And the Greek said, “That’s what I meant.”

An old wise man (he was actually more verbose than wise, but at certain stages in a wise man’s career it’s hard to tell the difference, well, at any rate...) early one morning gathered a group of youngsters and said he had an important story to tell them as their initial “grown-up lesson.”  And after they had settled down he began, “There was once a man who liked to think, and do other interesting things alone.  So he decided he would begin to arise an hour earlier each morning so as to have more free time for himself.  But soon this just became another part of his unnoticed daily routine, and so, to give himself some fresh impetus, he moved his wake up time up another hour earlier, but quite soon this too just another creature in his zoo of habit.  So then, after much careful thought and deliberation, do you know what the man decided to do?"  And after it became obvious that none of his little listeners could conceive of the proper response, the old man said, “Well, settle down again, and I’ll tell you what he did.  Every day for the rest of his life, he set his alarm to go off one minute earlier than it did the morning before.”  And the tykes were so smitten by the implications of the tale that several had milk, while the rest wet their pants.

In a circumstantial world, it’s hard to prove anything conclusively.

J.

No Repeats

You’ve heard the admonition, “Don’t make the same mistake twice,” and you’ve heard my caveat, “Don’t repeat yourself.”  Now, let me tell you – if you do the latter, you’ve done the former.

This is probably as opportune a time as any to clear up one matter for good, to wit, note:

There are
two kinds of humor –
funny humor, and
that which ain’t.

Over in one of our semi-parallel, in-law solar systems, I recently overheard a guy vociferously complaining about how “prejudiced” life was toward him and I also heard another voice respond, “Normally you think of someone being singled out and scorned because of their variation from the prevailing majority and norm, but you – you appear to be just as common and everyday as possible.”  And the guy says, “I know, that’s just what I’m talking about.”

His dreams of death were described by a certain hombre thusly: It was like going into a deep sleep, but when he first awoke he couldn’t tell if he was in a place of favor, or punishment.  But after a short walk around, there was no longer any doubt as to where he was when he saw St. Francis in a new pair of golden sandals and a Lakers jacket.

In sending his son off to the wars, a father gave his final advice, “Don’t worry so much about getting a communicable disease, be concerned more about becoming one.”

J.

Double Digits

The theme song of this one planet seemed to be, “It’s Never Too Soon To Say You’re Sorry,” until all of their brothers came for a visit, and then it became, “Hey, Who Left The Door Open?”

One fellow said, “If I could do in public, what I think in private, I would be perceived as truly outstanding.”  And his wifely voice thought, “If you think in private, what you say you can in public, you would be truly outstanding.”

You remember that particular zone I’ve mentioned before, that sometimes runs in parallel with yours, and sometimes doesn’t?  Well dig this.  Number one this week on their best seller list is a book entitled, “New Hope For The Past.”

During flurries of existential-economic excitement, this one suited person would ofttimes call out, “Double digits is what we’re talking here, double digits!”  Until one day, another voice slyly noted, “No large deal, double digits is the minimal you can talk about anyway.”  (He started to say to himself, “Think about it,” then realized he didn’t have to.)

This one little wet person just about wrapped it up for many of the creatures of his world when he noted, “Hey, I’ve forgotten more than I’ll ever know.”

J.

A Future vs The Future

A certain young Viscount viscerally exclaimed, “I cannot be intellectually bribed!”  And his sidecar cerebellum thought, “So? Who’d pay to be robbed?”

The more you’re entangled with the general requirements of life, the less time you have to see to your own specific potential.

One fellow, not too far from here, in fact, used to love to sing out, “I’m singing in the rain, just singing in the rain,” even when it wasn’t raining.  And to counteract this factual imbalance, sometimes when he’d be singing, “I’m singing in the rain…,” he wouldn’t actually be singing. (In certain ways, a more limited area, such as a three dimensional world, is easier to keep tidy.)

Whilst perusing and otherwise reading a flashy article, this guy came across the following comment, to wit:  “Certain fictional characters have almost taken on a life of their own.”  And he snorted, “Big deal, I almost have too.”

There is “a” future, and “the” future, and where the latter prevails, the former is not present.

J.

Two Places to Look

One somewhat diminished fellow described for me new heights to be scaled in living a life of little consequence when, as he put it, you could commit suicide in a place most public, in a manner most extreme, and the news accounts of your demise fail to mention the “cause of death.”

In a strictly revolutionist sense, even a blind man has two places to look.

Fuses by the dozen, fuses by the gross, such were the purchases by one awkward fellow who seemed to be forever “blowing them out” in minor household accidents.  And then one day, his wife, wearing clear eyes and a cold voice, confronted him by saying, “Being as inept as you are in certain regards, I do believe that you purposefully cause these shorts just so you can replace the fuses and thus appear to have some talents as a handy-man.”  And after three to seven seconds of being startled, the man pulled her close up, cupped his hand to her ear and said, “Okay, so you go me, but I’ve been carrying this on so as to teach my son an important lesson,” which was a little curious inasmuch as they were childless.

The closer you go to the end of the sentence, the more people begin to suffer, “period phobia.”

You can extend the essence of your existence by going faster, or going slower. (Maintaining present speed will be forbidden to those in-the-future.)

J.

Count on Me

In some parts of some solar systems, lack of competence can be at least partially addressed by simply changing the description of resultant failures.  (I did say in parts of some nervous systems, didn’t I?)

This one trial-size guy, whenever he wanted to make his dog happy, would take him for a ride.  And whenever he wanted to make his brain all perky and smiley, would say to it, “I knew I could count on you.”

(The guy that did the following told me I should label it as, “A Pregnant Message From The Front,” and to this I for one will not add the ticking of the sarcasm meter, so here goes.)

Once, after a temporary lull in the fighting, a scout returned from a previous leaving and announced, “I have been here and I have been there.  I have looked high and I have looked low, and I am prepared to state unequivocally that everything is firmly in its place.”

Dig this.  I was sitting next to this fellow in a faraway diner and heard him say to his no-one-in-particular-partner that just “having him along,” was almost like having him along.  (Hey, with friends like that, who needs friends?)

J.

Conversational Fractions

Over in that other world where the sky sometimes catches fire, there’s this guy, a would-be dominant force, who is so enamored and impressed with himself that he believes he is himself reincarnated.

More Helpful Hints Hiding Amidst Conversational Fractions:

(A):  “The trick is in how you say it.”

(B):  “No, the trick is in how you do it.”

(A):  “But, if you pull the verbal trick ‘just right,’ you don’t even have to bother with doing it.”:

During his commencement remarks, at Sorehead U., a recent speaker pronounced, “When you get right down to it, the best deal Life has to offer can be summed up in the sales slogan, ‘Get two for the price of two!’”

If you know just how to do it (and assuming you were interested in doing it), there is a place that can be found wherein listening and talking aren’t all that different.

In this one out-of-state time zone, their final fascination is in the contemplation of, “The Mysterious Whole” – that’s w-h-o-l-e.

J.