Classified
Wanted: a new Muse. Conventionalists need not apply.
Candid Soup for the Soul: Chapter Tree
“Call this war by whatever name you may, only call it not an American rebellion; it is nothing more or less than a Scotch Irish Prebyterian rebellion.” — Anonymous Hessian officer, 1778
The past is behind us is a phrase that’s behind us.
Birds drink and bathe in the shallow plastic bowl on the glass topped table on the back deck.
Chickadees and tufted titmouses together, always alert to predators.
The goldfinch looks for seed and flies on.
Late afternoon sun.
The cats asleep in the bedroom.
My wife surfing TV channels for mind-numbing programmi to watch while she handmakes greeting cards.
For how many of us are blogs flat files, containing every outburst of thought, organised,disjointed, observations, grocery lists, book chapters, lyrics, travelogues, critiques, DIY instructions, secret codes, adverts, ASCII art,…?
In 2020, as in 2100, as in now, life is familiar.
Surface features change.
One-hit wonders fill the airwaves and thought patterns of the idle young/old.
Peace and war are abstract terms at odds with each other.
Fossils fascinate us.
Wrens call out from the top of deck umbrellas.
Life goes on.
Spiders are spiders.
The sun shines.
We perceive change because this part of the universe doesn’t sit at absolute zero or below.
And I, carrier of thousands of years of wisdom, carry on.
Traditional values are always relative to the environment in which they were conceived and carried out.
Today’s radical, you know, is tomorrow’s traditional value.
We use solar power the old-fashioned way – trees – to cool our house.
No need for fancy automated heat exchange units, solar panels or electric air conditioners.
The pure, unregulated essence of nature/God/gods in action.
States of energy changing shape.
(And sometimes changing states!)
We can’t imagine ourselves as a temporary species giving rise to som thing/one else.
The wind blows in the galaxy, not a single coyote’s voice calling out.
The thing about holding the past and future in your hands is seeing how little any one moment is but how ultimately important a moment becomes.
We lost our last fearless leader so I have picked up the pieces and am moving us forward (as if we have anytime else to go!).
The last leader was under the influence of the god of comedy.
I don’t yet know who influences me.
However, I am much more serious in advancing our revolution, using the people for and against themselves as it suits me to achieve our ends.
Wrath and love are just words to me.
The means justify the end.
All for the sake of the cross-species entities that will wipe us all out on their way into the galaxy and beyond.
I am but a temporary vessel.
I do not exist.
I carry the traditions, memories, desires, disappointments and dreams of our ancestors to compute the futures for our descendants, direct or derived.
You read these phrases translated into your language.
My language you cannot understand because your bodies have not been modified for such.
Some with neuroenhancing accelerants might barely understand me in the nanosecond it took to compose this letter to you in your century.
Time travel is an illusion between a simple and complex society.
I am you, the person you imagine is watching yourself from an omnipotent position.
Your Friendly Hackers Speak
While they try to revivify our fearless leader, we want you to know we’re still around.
For those of you who don’t get it, governments are dead.
Nongovernment digital money and forced government bankruptcies are your future.
A word to you wizeazzes should be sufficient, but it won’t be.
Private ownership, dudes and dudesses, is the only future.
The new era of dead governments is here. Long live the new era.
This blog entry is hacked to you by the inventors of the Uprising, an underground movement to collapse currencies and futures markets at the touch of a button until very government leader bows to our command.
The only true way to remove fraud and waste in a systemis to eliminate the system.
You have been warned…that is, advised.
How you leaders choose to respond determines the future for your people – let’s see how selfish you really are.
Not a chapter: staying married for the sake of my mother in-law?
[Personal note]
I’m approaching 25 years of marriage.
A double-digit number.
No kids.
A kind, nondeceitful mother in-law.
In good health at 93+.
I won’t live forever.
Of my dreams, wishes, goals and ambitions for the rest of my life, which ones do not include my wife and/or her family?
I am only a temporary set of states of energy, born into a subculture that preaches “until death do us part” and “thou shall not kill” inside a culture that promotes divorce and abortion.
Caught in a current current that evaluates the validity of multiculturalism.
Do business owners want a monoculture with fewer overall sales or a multicultural clientele with higher profits?
Depends on what they’re selling.
A few years ago, I might be repeating, I planned to check into the Old Ground Inn in Ennis. A colleague told me to make sure I asked for the American suite.
That night, a maid walked in to fold down the sheets of the bed.
She turned off the overhead light, turned on the bedside lamp, closed the drapes, turned on the radio and asked if I wanted her to “dance.”
All while I was working to complete a spreadsheet I needed to email to my boss in the States before he walked in to an important meeting.
Who was dancing for whom?
I dug out my wallet, handed the maid one euro, sixty, and pushed her out the door. I didn’t need a DSK special to further my career.
Do I worry I’ll see more brown people wearing saris and burqas in a former sleepy cotton town of north Alabama than white farmers and their wives with beehive hairdos?
I grew up with the latter, not the former.
My best friends in first and second grade were black but I attended a high school with no black/African-American students (not completely white Christian, though; some Jewish, some Japanese, some Filipino, and some I don’t remember at this moment).
Who is trying to build fear in me by pointing out population changes that I can observe but, being childless, don’t care about?
Some days, I’d rather be dead than listen to the fearmongers and multiculturalists.
The rest of the time, I meditate, pray and pick where to fight the good fight.
I’ll be dead soon enough, if the periodic numbness alternating between my left and right sides, or the dizziness I feel when I turn my head to either side is any indication.
I lived a life.
I set an example of myself to myself.
Everything else was an illusion to entertain me while I…
[We close this entry announcing that funeral arrangement are being made at this time.]
Vellum Velorum: Chapter Rusticated
Here at Gulla Bull Connect-a-Life, we work hard to make sure our e-dating site records all the minutiae about your life that no one else cares about.
Using an electronic calculator cobbled together with some old RCA 1802 microprocessors we found in one of our attics, we compute the odds of you matching anyone anywhere, in our database or otherwise.
“The odds are good, but the goods are odd.”
Most importantly, we do our best to connect the 95% of women to the 5% of men who want to get married, knowing in reality that we’re matching the 95% of men to the 5% of women who just want to have sex.
Sorry, we don’t deal in fantasies.
And if you aren’t interested in an old-fashioned heterosexual relationship, don’t worry. Most of the other people who think they can’t find the perfect mate aren’t, either. [Shh, it’s a secret!]
Dress Up Your Browser: Chapter of Sensibility
Hail to the chief: Fuel efficiency, a legacy worth leaving.
The Available Spoon: Chapter Horselover Fat
“Mon Dieu, Lee!”
“Yes, humble worshipper. You called?”
“Lee, you are noy my god…”
“And yet, you put my name in a sentence as if I am.”
“Like the short painter, you have nothing, Toulouse.”
“And I suppose you pretend to be Camille or Adriana…”
“Polyangle.”
“I see. So this is a word game on ‘Midnight in Paris’?”
“Non.”
“Aussi.”
“Oui. These americains. They…uh, their Pure-rhetoricalisms…it is…how do you…”
“Puritanism, perhaps?”
“Huh?”
“Do you mean they have strict religious beliefs like their founding peres et meres?”
“Pourquoi? Qu’est-ce que c’est, pears and mares?”
“You are impossible. Did you hear the American government, always dominating the foreign news service by blowing a lot of hot air, has decided students are like food crops and must file a five-year university plan with their application for a student loan?”
“Non!”
“Oui. Any deviation from their studies results in jail time. No more Apples or facebooks without government approval.”
“Theze is a miracle. Next, they shall make the UN charter all over again, declaring countries cannot join the UN if they are tax shelters, forfeiting their sovereignty if they do not join.”
“Oui?”
“Bitte. Hai! Mon petit doigt me l’a dit.”
“Peu importe.”
“La, vous touchez du doigt le problème essentiel.”
“Mais, ce vieux reglement est toujours en vigeur?”
“Nn…oui.”
“C’est un peu violent!”
“Non, c’est dommage.”
“Then next we will see a virtual takeover of Norway by right-wing ‘protectors’ to prevent the very violence they never officially approved nor disapproved.”
“Oui, no different than americains electing a man with a Muslim name after Muslims were blamed for 9/11. A saudi conspiracy, no doubt, with one man in mind.”
“Il connait tous les dessous?”
“Oui. La nouvelle s’est répandue comme une traînée de poudre.”
“Ne faites pas trainer votre histoire en longueur; venez-en au fait.”
“Shall I spill the beans, or the peas, as it were?”
“Oui. Il faut absolument le faire dans les formes.”
“Le plus fort, c’est qu’ils croient avoir gagné!”
“Non!”
“Oui!”
“Ses anciens associés le faisaient chanter.”
“Ha ha. ‘Qu’est-ce que vous me chantez la?'”
“C’est du propre et du joli!”
“Il à pris le décision de partir de son propre chef.”
“Non?!”
“Oui. Il à avale sa bière s’un trait.”
“Ses camarades lui ont bourré le crâne et il ne voit plus ses limites.”
“Boucle-la!”
“Il est bouché à l’émeri!”
“Vous avez le front de me dire cela?”
“Oui. Mais, il faut que nous fassions front ensemble aux critiques.”
“Voilà le hic.”
Avouant son impuissance, il à levé les bras au ciel.
Ils se disposent déjà a partir.
Vous pouvez disposer.
“Au revoir, Docteur Marron.”
“Non, non. Say, ‘Docteur Brown.’ Less meaning but with meaning, all the same.”
“D’accord!”
Il se retournait constamment pour voir s’il était suivi.
“Cette seule erreur ne doit pas mettre en cause dix ans de travail!”
Au moment des élections, plusieurs des députés ont tourné casaque. Leurs projets grandioses ont tourné court.
Il se recueillit un moment avant de donner sa réponse.
“Ils sont en réclame pendant toute la semaine.”
“Non. Maintenant! Cesse de faire le veau et met-toi au travail!”
“Okay. Mais, la droite faisant ses choux gras du désarroi de la gauche.”
“À la guerre comme à la guerre.”
En posant une question innocente, il est tombe dans la gueule du loup.
“Oui. En fin de compte, cela m’est égal.”
On n’a jamais su le fin mot de cette histoire.
“C’est seulement grâce a son argent qu’il a voix au chapitre.”
“Il fait du volume pour masquer son insignifiance.”
“‘Au voleur!'”
“Tu es grand maintenant; tu peux voler de tes propres ailes.”
“Mais, il n’en fiche pas la rame.”
“…mmm, c’est mon dernier mot.”
“Oui. Au revoir.”
“A demain matin!”
“A même temps?”
“Oui.”
Read Between the Lions: Chapter Fuzzy Math
While we arrange the second preschooler behavioural test results report for release, in order to change education as we know it forever, eliminating liberal arts completely (except for trust fund kids, of course), we have found a small line item in the upcoming legislation package.
All corporations will be required to reduce their cash holdings to a percent, on an individual level determined by the Treasury Department, generally in reverse proportion to lobbying efforts. Any excess cash above that amount must be distributed as dividends by the end of the fiscal year or become payments toward reducing the national debt.
More as it is unveiled to us by our crafty interns wandering the halls of your clueless leaders.
The Event Horizon Around the Black Hole Called the Petrol Tank Fill Tube: Chapter Darkened Energy
News you can use: black holes, truth or friction?
treetrunkdings 