Part 2 of II: Randomised email pingbacks

Do you ever receive email messages that show someone has tried to use your website’s email system to send email?

Here is the second part of two unplanned blog entries about randomised messages on the Internet — who says computer don’t talk to us semicoherently?  Can you imagine an off-Broadway minimalist play, “Waiting for G@dhelpme.plz,” where the players read these random messages to each other?  Have they already done so?:

Hi. This is the qmail-send program at .
I’m afraid I wasn’t able to deliver your message to the following addresses.
This is a permanent error; I’ve given up. Sorry it didn’t work out.

<>:
Sorry, no mailbox here by that name. (#5.1.1)

The following message to <> was undeliverable.
The reason for the problem:
5.1.0 – Unknown address error 553-‘sorry, this recipient is in my badrecipientto list (#5.7.1)’

The following message to <> was undeliverable.
The reason for the problem:
5.1.0 – Unknown address error 550-‘Invalid recipient: <>’

Delivery to the following recipient failed permanently:

—– Original message —–

Received: by  with SMTP id ;
Thu, 18 Oct 2012 00:14:01 -0700 (PDT)
Return-Path: <>
Received: from [] ([)
by  with ESMTP id ;
Thu, 18 Oct 2012 00:14:01 -0700 (PDT)
Received-SPF: neutral :  is neither permitted nor denied by best guess record for domain of ) client-ip=;
Authentication-Results: ; spf=neutral ( is neither permitted nor denied by best guess record for domain of ) smtp.mail=
From: “LinkedIn.Invitations” <>
To: >
Date: Thu, 18 Oct 2012 10:43:59 +0430
Subject: New invitation
Message-ID: <>
Accept-Language: en-US
Content-Language: en-US
x-linkedin-template: inv_exp_member_02
x-linkedin-class: INVITE-MBR
Content-Type: text/html; charset=”utf-8″
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit
MIME-Version: 1.0

—– End of message —–

Delivery has failed to these recipients or distribution lists:
The recipient’s e-mail address was not found in the recipient’s e-mail system. Microsoft Exchange will not try to redeliver this message for you. Please check the e-mail address and try resending this message, or provide the following diagnostic text to your system administrator.

The following email account(s) do not exist. Please check the address(es) and send the message again. Thanks:

Hi. This is the qmail-send program at .
I’m afraid I wasn’t able to deliver your message to the following addresses.
This is a permanent error; I’ve given up. Sorry it didn’t work out.

<>:
This mailbox does not have enough space to receive your message.

<>… User unknown

Failed to deliver to ”
mail loop: too many hops (too many ‘Received:’ header fields)

Hello ,

We’re writing to let you know that the group you tried to contact () may not exist, or you may not have permission to post messages to the group. A few more details on why you weren’t able to post:

* You might have spelled or formatted the group name incorrectly.
* The owner of the group may have removed this group.
* You may need to join the group before receiving permission to post.
* This group may not be open to posting.

If you have questions related to this or any other Google Group, visit the Help Center at .

Thanks,

admins

This is an automatically generated Delivery Status Notification.

Delivery to the following recipients failed.

This report relates to a message you sent with the following header fields:

Message-id: <>
Date: Thu, 11 Oct 2012 09:22:02 -0200
From: “” <>
To:
Subject: eFax: You have received new fax

Your message cannot be delivered to the following recipients:

Recipient address:
Reason: Remote SMTP server has rejected address
Diagnostic code: smtp;550-Mailbox unknown. Either there is no mailbox associated with this you do not have authorization to see it. User unknown
Remote system: dns;. (TCP|) ( server ready)

The original message was received at Thu, 11 Oct 2012 00:24:38 -0400 (EDT)
from []

—– The following addresses had permanent fatal errors —–
<>
(reason: 550 5.1.1 <>… User unknown)
(expanded from: <>)

—– Transcript of session follows —–
… while talking to .:
>>> DATA
<<< 550 5.1.1 ><>… User unknown
550 5.1.1 <>… User unknown
<<< 503 5.0.0 Need RCPT (recipient)

Hi. This is the qmail-send program at .
I’m afraid I wasn’t able to deliver your message to the following addresses.
This is a permanent error; I’ve given up. Sorry it didn’t work out.

<>:
Unable to write /dev/null: invalid argument. (#4.3.0)
I’m not going to try again; this message has been in the queue too long.

Time for a randomised blog entry

Despite promises of spam filtering, my blog comments section is prefilled with spam.

Presented to you below for your reading pleasure is a compilation of random spam in the order I received the comments, which has a symmetry about it that I can hardly describe without laughing at the seriousness of it all, like recording snippets of conversation in a public place and expecting to figure out the mystery of life…

=======+====++========+===+++======

I must say, as a good deal as I enjoyed reading what you had to say, I couldnt aid but lose interest following a even though. Its as in case you had a amazing grasp on the subject matter.

The following time I read a weblog, I hope that it doesnt disappoint me as much as this one. I mean, I know it was my option to learn, but I really thought youd have something fascinating to say. All I hear is a bunch of whining about one thing that you might fix in the event you werent too busy looking for attention.

The subsequent time I learn a weblog, I hope that it doesnt disappoint me as much as this one. I mean, I know it was my option to read, but I truly thought youd have one thing attention-grabbing to say. All I hear is a bunch of whining about something that you may fix in the event you werent too busy looking for attention.

i love your posts, but i like this one more than the others, so i read it all over again

hoe versier ik een man

All my best memories come back clearly to me, some can even make me cry.Someone is ringing the bell.The figure seems all Right.Had it not been for the alarm clock she wouldn’t have been late.He led them down the mountain.There are mice next to the refrigerator, under the sink and inside the cupboard!There are mice next to the refrigerator, under the sink and inside the cupboard!He fell behind with his work.The wall has ears.The weight is too much for my height.

How to Make an Easy as well as Flavorful Brown rice

This place is in key Spain southern region of The city renowned worldwide for the escapades of Put on Quixote tilting with windmills. It’s a region associated with extremes using bitterly cold really winds blowing across an enormous large plateau in the extremely freezing winters as well as blisteringly hot dry out summers.

To find to know more in relation to saffron, read the portion below. You can be amazed at what you thought you actually knew, and the wonderful you did not.

Interestingly, this kind of place had been flourishing just as one art middle from the best time. Perhaps till some time ago, this position enjoyed excellent patronage of residents who treasured art and it also still proceeds to do so.

After harvest time, the farmers independent the reddish stigma as well as roast these on a sieve – this produces the saffron many of us use intended for food preparation, fabric coloring as well as medicinal purposes. In the city of Consuegra, the Fiesta de are generally Rosa del Azafran commemorates the end of harvesting season. Every year at the end of October, music as well as dancing populate the roadways to celebrate a very good season. Azafran would be the Spanish phrase for saffron.

Peel and carefully chop the onion. Warmth the butter as well as oil within frying pan as well as fry the peeled and killed garlic as well as onion until golden. Create curry and cumin as well as cook intended for 2-3 minutes.

Grading of saffron [] is done according to coloration, floral waste content as well as foreign matter. There are a few grades associated with saffron: Mongra contains top most aspects of dried stigmas. Lacha is a component of preconception with type. Gucchi contains total stigmas with type tied within bundles.

The reason why saffron is so much will that it is the stamen of a flower that requires to be chosen by hand. This stamen is part in the central aspects of a flower. Namely the spot that the plant pollen is placed on to fertilise the flower. Just about every flower simply contains a few of these stamens which can be 5 to 2 cm extended and a few associated with millimetres wide. If they’re dried they can be even smaller and lighter!

Saffron Crocus belongs to the fall-blooming group. This flowers and leaves begin to seem at the same time, usually around October. The grass-like foliage eventually achieve a length associated with 1-1 1/2 feet, though the 1 1/2-2 inch wide flowers increase barely in excess of an inches above the soil. The aromatic flowers are lavender or perhaps reddish-purple with dispersing petals. This styles currently have three extended blood-red, drooping, preconception lobes, from which the yellow saffron spruce is gathered. The anthers are also bright yellow-colored but are not a source of the spruce.

Turmeric acidic tomatoes taste awesome. I modified this formula from a formula in the late great Barbara Tropp’s guide ‘China Moon’. If you like Chinese food have a copy associated with her guide as the tasty recipes are out of this world. Barbara Tropp offered this formula a Chinese twist even so replaced the woman Chinese substances with things that are used within Indian cooking. The result is a fresh tasting salad that really is among my in history favourites.

Some people believe that saffron has many health benefits. You’ll find claims of which digestion might be greatly enhanced and that the spice is often a tremendous detoxing agent. It has also been confirmed as a highly effective aphrodisiac in many china cultures.

This can be due to it is powerful odor.

The rabbit ran to the woods and did not come back any more.He was not a little tired.She has been collecting stamps.Where did you learn to speak English?I am afraid that l have to go.The constitution guards the liberty of the people.The constitution guards the liberty of the people.He grasped both my hands.It sounds great!I appreciate John’s helping in time.

Subjects and Objects

In domestic news lately, political candidates have, in the course of speaking, in the cause of getting elected, voiced personal opinions about rape.

Most of the time, men rape women.

Some of the time, women rape men.

But, for the sake of this blog entry, let us consider only the first case.

I have a personal stake in this discussion.

Quite possibly, I exist because my grandmother was raped by my biological grandfather.

Certainly, family lore says that my biological grandfather abused both my grandmother and my father before he abandoned them (or was forced to leave them).

Every day on this planet, without a doubt, a man forces himself upon a woman for sexual pleasure.

He may pay for the privilege or take his pleasure for free.

Men, for the most part, are physically stronger than women and rarely sexually engage a woman stronger than them.

I agree that rape is a terrible injustice for the raped as well as for the institute of marriage and against the joys of consensual sex.

But, in the eyes of an omniscient being (or Being), am I a gift of/to God because of rape?

Am I, instead, merely the lucky offspring of a man who was the unfortunate result of a rape?

I do not exist in the public eye as a celebrity who feels driven to share opinions constantly or an expert authority who must answer questions about the validity of abortion.

However, I have an opinion about myself.

I like me, for the most part.

I have enjoyed my life.

I can understand my father wanted nothing to do with his father and all but forbid me to contact his father’s family until after my father was dead and buried, especially if he was the result of a rape and subsequently abused physically/mentally.

It’s tough for me to believe my grandmother could have aborted my father if she was raped.

Being a staunch member of the main (Central) Baptist Church in her community, she probably never considered abortion, but I have no way of knowing her thoughts/opinions on the matter, other than through her general opinions/actions in relation to her Christian faith.

I only know I exist.

I like existing.

I suppose most of us do.

Those who were aborted or will be aborted never get to know if they do or do not like existing.

Those who choose abortion have made and make that decision for their offspring.

A mighty BIG decision I never have to make.

I exist.

I hope you like existing.

If you don’t like existing, I can understand why you wouldn’t want the fertilised egg in your womb to exist.

If you do like existing, I can’t understand why you wouldn’t want the fertilised egg in your womb to exist.

We exist and choose to accept the legal/moral/social/religious issues surrounding our decisions.

To say one wants the freedom to abort a fetus is as grave a desire as there is in this world, more important than any words that can be assembled together in one blog entry.

I can’t change the circumstances of my father’s conception but I’m just glad my grandmother didn’t abort my father, no matter whether she was raped or abused before/during/after sexual intercourse.

Love is a many-fickled thing

The smartphone and the tablet PC tell me today is the 24th of October in the year 2012.

I’m trying to fathom what that means.

Locally, while I sit in the sunroom area of an Arby’s restaurant that used to house a Dairy Queen franchise, American country and western music plays through an overhead speaker — “You’re listening to WDRM,” a disembodied voice tells me.

Cars and trucks pass by on Highway 431. I use the open WiFi hotspot of the Lowe’s store across the highway to write/post this blog entry.

A couple of jet contrails colour white stripes on the blue sky.

A restaurant manager greets customers and picks dead leaves from the potted plants, talking to them as much as she talks to her employees like Philip and Gavin.

Politicians want my vote very soon.

Last night, my wife and I talked to a young lady, 28 years young, a former classmate of my nephew.

She faces the dilemma of whether to marry her 40-year old boyfriend, an FBI agent who likes dangerous situations and will probably rise in the ranks of management one day.

He, like many I know in law enforcement and the military, leads a very well-regimented personal life — eats the same breakfast, same snacks, same lunch, same dinner; washes clothes at the same time on the same day every week; cleans the toilet a specific way with a specific cleaning solution.

He is what I call a B&W Man — everything has its place, sharp contrasts between light and shadow.

There are no gray ambiguities.

She wonders, “Is he just looking for a baby machine, no room in his life for me except to give him children to fill what little open time he has allocated in his daily regimen for interruptions to his FBI-centred lifestyle?”

The young woman is slim, trim and fit.

She could easily model clothes for a department store catalog.

In other words, she has the looks and the personality to charm any man, if she wanted.

She is 28, though, no longer 21, 22, 23, 24…

She wants to bear and raise four children.

She has an adult life of her own and questions how much she would have to compromise her life, go against her father’s wishes to marry a stable “company” man (no, not that company, the other one), a boyfriend who has little more than a late-night, long-distance phone call relationship with her now.

Good question.

Would her marriage, her husband, be as regimented as her long-distance relationship is now, or might as well be long-distance in emotional support after their matrimonial ceremony is complete and they’re sharing the same house while achieving the same shared dream/goal of four kids?

At 28, it’s not too late to start a family.

But the biological clock is ticking.

The boyfriend asked her father for her hand in marriage and the father did not give it.

They’ve dated four years.

The boyfriend was more of a courting gentleman until he won her heart.

Now…?

She’s become part of his regimen, same breakfast/snack/lunch/dinner/girlfriend, in that order.

How long do they string this out until she says yes to him and opposes her father’s wishes?

Many of us have had long-distance relationships, absence making the heart grow fonder…for a while.

And then…?

Is the love of your life a key part of your detox after a rough spell, or a hindrance/annoyance to your recovery?

How important is your family’s blessing?

Are you willing to face the known (he’s stable but he’s not like your father) unknown (he’s stable but he’s not like your father) in order to have four children?

What kind of family life do you want your kids to have?

Do you want a husband who’s willing to fling himself into harm’s way to protect his B&W Man worldview?

If your kids’ father died during a SWAT raid, then what?

Would they have received enough of their father’s love?

What, exactly, is love?

All of us die, eventually.

If your spouse dedicates himself to his job, no matter what it is, giving more time to his kids than to his wife (his kids’ mother), is that a bad thing if your domestic life is safe and secure from harm the spouse is willing to face on their behalf?

Can this young woman see that marrying the B&W man will not end her parents’ love for her, even if it now becomes a long-distance one?

She can have her own life with kids, like many a parent does, in a strange town with new friends to make, while the other spouse works long hours and travels when duty calls.

At 28, does she want to?

Can she thrive when her beloved father, mother, siblings and childhood friends are just a phone call away?

What assurances, besides her boyfriend’s declaration of love (if not a willingness to meet her halfway (in her eyes)), will give her the strength to commit?

What is love? Love is faith that you’re making the right decision in the moment and willing to admit you made a mistake later on.

Marriage is like that, too, if you’re willing to nurture the relationship, given the obstinacy of most personalities after the vows are exchanged, putting the bigger goals ahead of the smaller squabbles, allowing each spouse the space one needs, the space that expands and contracts with the daily stresses we face inside and outside of marriage.

Some relationships, whether in the privacy of a phone call or the bedroom, are long-distance in nature.

Love is recognising the distance, respecting the boundaries and facing the consequences with open arms.

What are four children worth to you?

How about a B&W Man who keeps a pretty tight leash on his emotions protected by a thick Kevlar shell against on-the-job harm never far away?

Can your open, loving emotions accept the difference?

Bottom line: not every father is a law enforcement/military B&W Man, but you’re not marrying your father, are you?

Are you?

An Incomplete Blog Entry

[saving info here for safekeeping until offline storage is available]

Sorry, this may be a little confusing, let alone incomplete, in its current form

From familysearch.org:

James Horace Capps, born 17 Sep 1914 , Union Co., TN, died 1985

Parents

father: George Sterling Capps (AFN: 3XV3-CDH )
mother: Mary Alice Rucker (AFN: 3XV3-CZ1 )

Submission

submitter: sbradley2729907
submission date: 12 Feb 2001

(615) 687-6809. Graduated from the University of Tennessee as an electrical engineer. Later worked for General Electric.

Source Citation

“Pedigree Resource File,” database, FamilySearch (http://familysearch.org/pal:/MM9.2.1/93LQ-V52 : accessed 24 October 2012), entry for James Horace Capps.

 

1940 census, Davidson County, Nashville, Tennessee, Ellen Avenue

–          Sara (Sam?) Bradley, age 33, head of household, superintendant of construction, , born in TN, both parents born in TN

–          Estle (Estelle?), wife (m. 1927), age 33, born in TN, both parents born in TN

–          George Capps, father in-law, age 63, married, resided in Knoxville in 1935, laborer, construction co.

1930 census, Union County, Tennessee

–          George S[terling] Capps, age 53, head of household, farmer , born in TN, both parents born in TN

–          Alice, wife, age 47, born in TN, both parents born in TN

–          Daughter, Effie, age 17, born in TN, both parents born in TN

–          Son, Harace (Horace?), age 15, born in TN, both parents born in TN

–          Son, Charlie, age 13, born in TN, both parents born in TN

–          Daughter, Gertrude, age 10, born in TN, both parents born in TN

1920 census, Union County, Tennessee, part of 4th district, Maynardville, TN

–          George [Sterling] Capps, age 43, head of household, farmer, born in TN, both parents born in TN [born about 27 June 1876], [second spouse: Roda] ((d. 27 May 1957) Had blonde hair and blue eyes. Lived on farm in Hickory Valley in Union County, TN. Farm currently owned by Herman Smith Family. Farm on Hickory Valley Road off Norris Highway between Knoxville and Oak Ridge., buried Lynnhurst Cemetery, Knox Co., TN)

–          Alice (Mary Alice Rucker (Rollins?)) Capps, wife, age 35, born in TN, both parents born in TN [born 27 Feb 1883, Union/Claiborne Co., TN], d. 10 Jan 1963 (Mary Alice had black hair and black eyes , buried Lynnhurst Cemetery, Knox Co., TN)

–          Son, John, age 17, born in TN, both parents born in TN

–          Son, Paris, age 16, born in TN, both parents born in TN

–          Daughter, Estelle, age 12, born in TN, both parents born in TN

–          Daughter, Ethel, age 10, born in TN, both parents born in TN

–          Daughter, Effie, age 7, born in TN, both parents born in TN

–          Son, Horace, age 5, born in TN, both parents born in TN

–          Son, Carley, age 2, born in TN, both parents born in TN

–          Daughter, Gertrude, age 8/12, born in TN, both parents born in TN

1910 census, Campbell County, Tennessee, Civil District 2

–          George Capps, age 33, head of household, farmer, born [27 June 1875 (1873?)] in TN, both parents born in TN

–          Alice Rucker Capps, wife, age 25, [m. 10 April 1901] born [about 1885] in TN, both parents born in TN

–          John Rollins, grandfather, age 86 [born about 1824], born in TN, both parents born in TN

1900 census, Claiborne County, Tennessee , Civil District No. 13

–          [Sterling] Jacob Capps, age 52, born June 1847, head of household, farmer, born in TN, both parents born in TN [d. 6 June 1934]

–          Rachel M[anervy] Capps, wife, born July 1851, age 48, keeping house, born in TN, both parents born in TN, [d. 13 Dec 1922]

–          Son, George S. Capps, age 24, born 1877 (or June 1875 [same as one born 27 June 1875 (1873?), died 3 Jun 1975, Knox Co., TN? Father: Jake Capps, Mother: Minerva Caldwell?]), farm laborer, born in TN, both parents born in TN

–          Son, William M., age 20, born July 1879, farm laborer, born in TN, both parents born in TN

–          Daughter, Mary F, age 17, born Dec 1882, born in TN, both parents born in TN

–          Son, John, age 15, born Apr 1885, farm laborer, born in TN, both parents born in TN

–          Daughter, Cora D., age 12, born Apr 1888, born in TN, both parents born in TN

–          Daughter, Bertha A., age 9, born Feb 1891, born in TN, both parents born in TN

1880 census,

–          Jacop Capps, age 29 [born about 1851, died 6 Jun 1937], head of household, farmer, born in TN, both parents born in TN

–          Rachal M. Cardwell, age 29, wife (born about 1851, m. 19 Jun 1870, d. 1922), keeping house, born in TN, both parents born in TN

–          Daughter, Sarah E., age 9 (born about 1871), born in TN, both parents born in TN

–          Son, Benjamin J., age 7 (born about 1873), born in TN, both parents born in TN

–          Son, George S., age 5 (born about 1875), born in TN, both parents born in TN

–          Son, William M., age 1 (born about 1879), born in TN, both parents born in TN

1870 census, Claiborne County, Tennessee , 12th Civil District

–          John Capps, age 55, born about 1816, farmer, cannot read/write, born in TN

–          Catharine [Catherine “Cassa” Snuffer, m. 12 Dec 1834] Capps, age 46, keeping house, cannot read/write, born in TN

–          Rachel Capps, age 32, cannot write, born in TN

–          Son, Jacob, age 19, cannot read/write, born in TN [born 23 Jun 1850, Grainger Co., TN, d. 6 Jun 1937]

–          Daughter, Rachel, age 18, born in TN

–          Daughter, Esther, age 13, born in TN

1850 census, Claiborne County, 7th Subdivision

–          John Capps, age 34, farmer, born in TN

–          Cassa [Catherine “Cassa” Snuffer, m. 12 Dec 1834] Capps, age 29, born 1824 (Claiborne Co., TN), d. 5 Aug 1886, Claiborne Co., TN

–          Daughter, Rachael, age 13, born about 1837, born in TN

–          Son, Michael, age 11, born about 1839, born in TN

–          Son, John, age 8, born about 1842, born in TN

1840 census, Grainger County, Tennessee

–          John Capps, head of household, [born 1816, d. 1880, Claiborne Co., TN]

–          1 free white male under 5

–          2 free white males 15-19

–          1 free white male 20-20

–          1 free white male 50-59

–          1 free white female 10-14

–          1 free white female 15-19

–          1 free white female 50-59

–          1 person employed in agriculture

–          2 white persons over 20 who cannot read/write

–          5 free white persons under 20

–          1 free white person 20-49

–          8 total free white persons

–          8 total all persons – free white, free colored, slaves

John’s parents:

–          Williams Capps Jr. 1788-1840, Grainger Co., TN

–          Mary Botts (m. 1830), 1795-1850, Grainger Co., TN

William’s parents:

–          William Capps, Sr., born 1762 (Hickory Valley, Union Co., TN Colonial era), died 1840 (homestead on Black Fox Creek, Union Co., TN)

–          Rachel Smith (m. 3 Feb 1781, Union Co., TN), born 1765 (Orange, Chatham Co., No. Carolina, Colonial era) d. 1840 (homestead on Black Fox Creek, Union Co., TN)

William’s parents:

–          Thomas William Capps, born 1762 (Mecklenburg Co., No. Carolina, Colonial era), [marriage to Lovy Barrington, 5 Feb 1784], d. 1785 (Thorney, Thorn Hill, Union Co., TN)

–          Elizabeth Jane Wagstaffe (m. 10 Apr 1748, Dean, Bedfordshire, England), 1723-1783

Thomas’ parents:

–          Thomas Cave Capps,  born 1700 (England), d. 1731 (North Carolina, Colonial era)

–          Elizabeth Lucas, born 1699 (Bedfordshire, England), d. 1766 (North Carolina, Colonial era)

The Yellow Leaves of Autumn

Looking through the dusty bedroom window in the late morning sunlight, I saw yellow, lots of yellow…

Dirt and dust from Plains’ states, a plain state of dirt and dust, plane wood, plane wings, stated simply, plainly, mainly.

A hunter’s paradise, a Halloween scene, a setting for a Sorcerer soundtrack, a story tinged with subplots from “Special/RX.”

What about Collins by Samuel Johnson?

Do you agree SNL jokes are older than ever?

Many say that the American late-night TV satire called “Saturday Night Live” has a rather geriatric feeling to it.

Well, recent evidence points out why.

The lead writer, Seth Meyers, is actually an old Catskills “Borscht Belt” entertainer trying to pass himself off as a hipcat daddio of a comic, thanks to modern CGI effects:

An alien or just a regular NYC citizen with multiple personalities?

Apparently, as we age, we gain more digits in addition to lengthening noses and ears?

Or is Seth an alien unfamiliar with, but trying to understand, our culture?

More as it develops…

The Feeling is Mutual

Dust and skin oil collect in the rounded corners of the touchpad.

Tiredness fights for the right to take this body to bed and slumberland.

One brief moment, where a sole statistic, the number of teen/young adult suicides, helps decide an election.

A prime minister clicks her heels and ends up sprawled in front of the Gandhi memorial — she’s not in Kansas, that’s certain — why does she wear high(er) heels to walk on grass?

A tree faces the wind without a face.

How does schooling teach teamwork rather than individual test score achievement?

A nephew has a private discussion with a Supreme Court Associate Justice (Scalia), (con)firming his decision to pursue a law(ful) career, setting political beliefs/opinions aside.

Sleep is a stronger attraction than sighting/siting/citing the future.

The next chapter races dreams for a place in this blog…

Making the Obvious even more Obvious

Notice the man in the newspaper article below.

He’s smiling, almost smirking.  Could he be addicted to prescription medication?

See yellow arrow: is this the reason?  Most likely!

Could his smile use a makeover?  Probably!  Now that he’s in jail!

Dentist Angela R. Cameron has a market she never dreamed of — getting the state legislature to mandate full dental benefits for prison inmates, with her as sole provider for making over the smiles and changing the lives of convicts.

Never miss a market opportunity staring you in the face with an open mouth!

Who says you shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth?!

Cleverer than most unusual cleavers!

In the old days, we would use sages, oracles, fortunetellers and technological/economic forecast analysis experts to pin future bad news on our perceived enemies.

A new type of consciousness emerged, however, and turned us away from creating enemies out of one another.

To be sure, we can’t stop the impediment of history where subcultures, unwilling to fully merge with the growing consensus, form those side pools and eddies that spin off of pebbles we dropped in the pond eons ago and start to sour rancidly.

C’est lava, as the vulcanologists like to say to earthquake predictionists.

Share and steal alike — no matter, mon!

The crystal ball was made of 79.5618003% pure cocoa, inviting hungry card readers to the table for a séance with the ghosts of vanilla beans past.

It was a monstrous mash of fermenting corn.

All of a sudden, the future was so shaded, we had to invite the Brights to explain the cost-benefit ratio of secularism to moral imperatives at the imperial palace of executive privileges.

But we’re cool with that.

A cup of tea with dice while throwing rice stalks to read the divination tables was more comforting to the picotrading subroutines than algorithmic hanging chads in the deserted Saharan mountains of Chad.

We decided our fates were written in the stars already.

Cast words to the wind and let the weighty wheat separate from the fluffy chaff.

We sew blankets and quilts of symbols every day for your warmth and security.

Some of you will eat our words.

The spoils of war are no more.

These days, we’ve joined forces to compete against the harshness of outer space, where the only indication of winning is being alive another day to observe and report the changes we’ve forgotten we documented before the last time we documented that we forgot to forget that we documented our good fortune in continuous cycles of bliss.

Happiness is contagious — pass it on!