Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Random Notes XVIII
Did you know that your hair is growing at a rate of 8.6465 billionths of a meter PER SECOND? That's a lot of billionths.
WHY, not WHAT is Twitter?
Is it for people with extremely short attention spans? What, can't read more than 30 words at a time? Can't TYPE more than 30 words at a time? Keyboard too tough, huh? When was the last time you actually WROTE anything longer than your name? You know, with a PEN?
In my (as-usual)-measured, balanced opinion, it's a perverse waste of the Internet, just like Facebook is.
Hey, DOOODS, remember Friendster? No? DON'T REMEMBER THAT PIECE OF SHIT?
Twitter is a ludicrous application for people who barely grazed through high school, so sorry. Facebook is just one step above that. GET A GODDAMN BLOG OR AN EMAIL ACCOUNT and stop wasting all this bandwidth on your pathetic trivial observations of the moment.
Just a thought.
I ate some cheese today.
In my (as-usual)-measured, balanced opinion, it's a perverse waste of the Internet, just like Facebook is.
Hey, DOOODS, remember Friendster? No? DON'T REMEMBER THAT PIECE OF SHIT?
Twitter is a ludicrous application for people who barely grazed through high school, so sorry. Facebook is just one step above that. GET A GODDAMN BLOG OR AN EMAIL ACCOUNT and stop wasting all this bandwidth on your pathetic trivial observations of the moment.
Just a thought.
I ate some cheese today.
The Future is Here
If you can believe it -- wait for it, and this is not a joke -- these stools were printed. I kid you not, my flock. Printed .
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Endlessness
Why is it that I saw this headline in the Herald Tribune in 1970?:
Israel and Palestinian Leaders Extend Egypt Talks
What the fuck is wrong with these people? It's like the feuding neighbours, the McCoys and the Hatfields . . . just out for a fight every time they walk the street.
WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH THESE PEOPLE? Does Sweden constantly bicker with Denmark?
WHY THE FUCK NOT?
Does Belgium have a huge problem with China? WHY THE FUCK NOT???
What is mentally wrong with these people that they have to be SO FUCKED UP?
Fucking soccer hoodlums make more sense to me.
Israel and Palestinian Leaders Extend Egypt Talks
What the fuck is wrong with these people? It's like the feuding neighbours, the McCoys and the Hatfields . . . just out for a fight every time they walk the street.
WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH THESE PEOPLE? Does Sweden constantly bicker with Denmark?
WHY THE FUCK NOT?
Does Belgium have a huge problem with China? WHY THE FUCK NOT???
What is mentally wrong with these people that they have to be SO FUCKED UP?
Fucking soccer hoodlums make more sense to me.
New Novel!
And you can be a part of it! Just post a comment to continue the story! As usual, it's a Thriller. Here's the first paragraph:
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Reinhard, despite his initial distaste, took to this job of gravedigging with eventual enthusiasm. What’s good for the muscles is good for the mind, he murmured to himself as his spade dug into the the dark, rich Bavarian earth.
Roots are your future, he told the corpse silently, and worms your new best friends.
Finally, much later, he staggered backwards and looked at his handiwork. Six feet is so much more than just six feet! he marveled with not a little pride.
Then he rolled the corpse of Lieutenant Messner into the grave.
“Bye, Fritzie,” Reinhard muttered, “We’re going to miss you.” Messner fell face up and his sightless eye, the one that had not been shot, stared into the deepening twilight of the wooded grove, not at Reinhard.
Reinhard found it hard to look at and immediately emptied a shovelful of moist, root entangled soil onto Messner’s reproachful face.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
Reinhard, despite his initial distaste, took to this job of gravedigging with eventual enthusiasm. What’s good for the muscles is good for the mind, he murmured to himself as his spade dug into the the dark, rich Bavarian earth.
Roots are your future, he told the corpse silently, and worms your new best friends.
Finally, much later, he staggered backwards and looked at his handiwork. Six feet is so much more than just six feet! he marveled with not a little pride.
Then he rolled the corpse of Lieutenant Messner into the grave.
“Bye, Fritzie,” Reinhard muttered, “We’re going to miss you.” Messner fell face up and his sightless eye, the one that had not been shot, stared into the deepening twilight of the wooded grove, not at Reinhard.
Reinhard found it hard to look at and immediately emptied a shovelful of moist, root entangled soil onto Messner’s reproachful face.
Friday, September 10, 2010
Holy Moses
Sorry. Just pulled the subject line from the song I'm listening to by Elton John.
But it probably describes my past 5 or so days.
As I write I'm pretty incoherent . . . PTSD if you will. So forgive me if passages don't make sense sometimes.
I'm in a half-world at the moment. Quarter world?
But I did Japan and it was the worst, worst ever. When I go to pick up Taishi I kind of get a candy at the end of of the 40-hour trip when I see him and he says "I love you, Daddy," but when I drop him back off it's just such a desolate feeling that you just can't imagine.
I try to medicate and sometimes it doesn't work so well. "You're not boarding this flight, sir." But all I want to go is to my seat and go to sleep, not fondle flight attendants' ample asses and insult the fellow passengers.
No-can do. 7-hour prolongation. I made the flight in first class but they denied me "alcohol services.' Yep, as you can imagine, I was a raving, crazed idiot bashing flight attendants right and left.
I just went to sleep and refused their "Top sirloin entrée." Fuck them. First class these days is like Greyhound 50 years ago.
But what made it so positive was all the sweet and interesting people I encountered. The bartender that made me the most bizarre Bloody Mary I've ever had . . . includes a block of cheddar on a toothpick! I am simply going to have to remember that one! Made my fucking day.
Such a sweetie. And in Japan,, I went to a sushi shop in the airport and I was the only customer. I had a namazake (cold saké) and a helping of maguro and unagi and it was the FUCKING BEST MEAL I HAVE EVER HAD!
Then I get to Detroit and make my 6 a.m. white wine stop at a place I've never been and she makes a nice pour, the dear, and I see a jar in the cabinet. Are those dill pickles? No, they're olives.
Umm, could you make me a dill pickle? What, like . . . like a spear? YES!
That white wine and that dill pickle were the BEST FUCKING MEAL I HAVE EVER HAD. Yeah, okay, so I have pretty competing BEST FUCKING MEALS. They're all equal.
So last leg, Detroit-Metro>; Montreal. I could barely stand, I was so tired. This young attendant gently roused me and said, "Can I get you something?" I said, yes, darling, a can of Bloody Mary mix would be good.
At the risk of offending my dearest and most beautiful wife, at the end, as I managed to somehow stagger off the plan (NOT DRUNK!!!!!! TIRED) I said to her in front of the cockpit door, ,"You know, I hate to be cheesy and steal from Elton John, but you have the sweetest eyes I've ever seen."
The fucking pilots laughed me off the plane. "Nice one, dude! A Player! Diidja hear that, Don? Gotta perfect my schtick from now on! Hey, nice tie, dude!"
It was all fun and I'm so glad to be home with my darlimg Brigitte.
But it probably describes my past 5 or so days.
As I write I'm pretty incoherent . . . PTSD if you will. So forgive me if passages don't make sense sometimes.
I'm in a half-world at the moment. Quarter world?
But I did Japan and it was the worst, worst ever. When I go to pick up Taishi I kind of get a candy at the end of of the 40-hour trip when I see him and he says "I love you, Daddy," but when I drop him back off it's just such a desolate feeling that you just can't imagine.
I try to medicate and sometimes it doesn't work so well. "You're not boarding this flight, sir." But all I want to go is to my seat and go to sleep, not fondle flight attendants' ample asses and insult the fellow passengers.
No-can do. 7-hour prolongation. I made the flight in first class but they denied me "alcohol services.' Yep, as you can imagine, I was a raving, crazed idiot bashing flight attendants right and left.
I just went to sleep and refused their "Top sirloin entrée." Fuck them. First class these days is like Greyhound 50 years ago.
But what made it so positive was all the sweet and interesting people I encountered. The bartender that made me the most bizarre Bloody Mary I've ever had . . . includes a block of cheddar on a toothpick! I am simply going to have to remember that one! Made my fucking day.
Such a sweetie. And in Japan,, I went to a sushi shop in the airport and I was the only customer. I had a namazake (cold saké) and a helping of maguro and unagi and it was the FUCKING BEST MEAL I HAVE EVER HAD!
Then I get to Detroit and make my 6 a.m. white wine stop at a place I've never been and she makes a nice pour, the dear, and I see a jar in the cabinet. Are those dill pickles? No, they're olives.
Umm, could you make me a dill pickle? What, like . . . like a spear? YES!
That white wine and that dill pickle were the BEST FUCKING MEAL I HAVE EVER HAD. Yeah, okay, so I have pretty competing BEST FUCKING MEALS. They're all equal.
So last leg, Detroit-Metro>; Montreal. I could barely stand, I was so tired. This young attendant gently roused me and said, "Can I get you something?" I said, yes, darling, a can of Bloody Mary mix would be good.
At the risk of offending my dearest and most beautiful wife, at the end, as I managed to somehow stagger off the plan (NOT DRUNK!!!!!! TIRED) I said to her in front of the cockpit door, ,"You know, I hate to be cheesy and steal from Elton John, but you have the sweetest eyes I've ever seen."
The fucking pilots laughed me off the plane. "Nice one, dude! A Player! Diidja hear that, Don? Gotta perfect my schtick from now on! Hey, nice tie, dude!"
It was all fun and I'm so glad to be home with my darlimg Brigitte.
Friday, September 3, 2010
Pain
An animal can't feel pain. Let me rephrase that. IT MOST TERRIBLY CAN feel pain.
But the pain that it feels cannot be thought about, at least in the realm of our senses. We, as humans, have the extraordinary capacity to not only feel pain, but question WHY we feel pain.Do you think the cat that has just been run over by a car says to itself. "Oh my God? I might die! This hurts so much."
Believe me, it doesn't.
And believe me, it applies to humans as well. When two-year-old Robin plunged off a two-floor fire escape, blood pooling four feet from her little head in front of my astonished eyes on the tarmac, she felt no real pain. She just lived a little, and then died.
But sometimes the pain is worse; it's in OUR HEADS. A bird dying of agrifungus AF has no idea why it feels so bad. It just feels bad.
But WE know why we feel bad.
Too bad.
Sorry. Bad mood.
But the pain that it feels cannot be thought about, at least in the realm of our senses. We, as humans, have the extraordinary capacity to not only feel pain, but question WHY we feel pain.Do you think the cat that has just been run over by a car says to itself. "Oh my God? I might die! This hurts so much."
Believe me, it doesn't.
And believe me, it applies to humans as well. When two-year-old Robin plunged off a two-floor fire escape, blood pooling four feet from her little head in front of my astonished eyes on the tarmac, she felt no real pain. She just lived a little, and then died.
But sometimes the pain is worse; it's in OUR HEADS. A bird dying of agrifungus AF has no idea why it feels so bad. It just feels bad.
But WE know why we feel bad.
Too bad.
Sorry. Bad mood.
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