Don’t shoot the messenger

subtitled: Billy clubs, Batman and Barney Fife.

In his continuing effort to take guns off the street, Mayor Bloomberg today announced what the press has dubbed the “Barney Fife” rule — all officers on the street will be issued a single bullet, some getting a silver slug in case of vampires, werewolves, ghouls, zombies or other creatures that the masked crusaders cannot reach in time.

Officers who tend to shoot off at the mouth, if not their weapons, will receive what the press has drubbed the “Bobby sox” tool — a billy club, having their revolvers or other handguns turned in and melted to make a statue of the right, honourable mayor Hisself.

Further, Bloomberg issued an edict that a film, “The Dark Knight Rises,” and other mass media that encourages the large gathering of police officers for the sole purpose of firing on citizens, all of whom are presumed to be innocent until proven guilty, are banned from the bouroughs of New York City.

The NRA and the ACLU have banded together to protest these drastic moves by a man who believes he has the power of God Donald Trump.

The UN General-Secretary canceled the rest of his visit to the future site of the UN, Iran, to address this issue and calm the nerves of diplomats used to having police cover as they violate every law of common decency in the abuse of their diplomatic immunity  throughout Manhattan and other areas of New York, especially its servants’ sectors of New Jersey and commuter bedroom communities of Connecticut.

The Police Benevolence Society has lit up every phone in the country, seeking funds to start a campaign to boot Bloomberg from office and put in a man who likes guns, shooting and dead thugs, necessarily in that order.

The Sicilian Mafia, Chinese Triad, Black Panthers, Real NY IRA and other alleged members of organised crime have called a truce while they consider the effects of these new announcements on their business of bribing corrupt police officers to look the other way as they intimidate and fill victims full of lead — maybe billy clubs and the threat of a single silver bullet are more efficient means of controlling their turf.

What is lambda over pi?

In the part of the world where I burn fossil fuel to push a four-wheeled vehicle over paved roads, I often encounter math geeks proudly displaying an unusual symbol that I can only describe as lowercase lambda over pi.

These geeks refer to themselves by a moniker that makes even less sense than the symbol — the Crimson Tide — expressing their sheer delight that math equations equate to broken bodies on a field of play, preferably of young men on the other side of the line, some on “offense,” some on “defense,” and some on “special teams.”

Where did this mathematical symbol originate and what does it mean, precisely:

Beware Greeks geeks bearing gifts — that’s all I have to say!

Finally, a quiet nod to a humble man who preferred anonymity for taking one step on behalf of his species in appreciation for the math, engineering, science and technology that allowed him to put his bootprints on a natural satellite circling our planet.

Thanks to the kind folks at the Main Dish in Meridianville, Alabama, who served up a delectable meal for my wife and me and told us about a show on the tellie called Restaurant Impossible which features the family and decor changes that transformed an old ice cream parlour interiour into an elegant roadside steakhouse.  Casey — blonde hair or brunette — your service was perfect.

POV

Wow!  What a controversy!

The World Health Organisation, the World Trade Organisation, People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals and the National Labour Relations Board ruled today that television broadcast of children’s games, including the Little League World Series and high school football, directly violates international child labour laws.

The UN Security Council reached an impasse, with the U.S. and China both agreeing that exploiting children in order to sell junk food and advertising is a basic tenet of the UN charter and should be respected as such.  The Ad Council supported the agreement, as did former world leaders Tony Blair and Taro Aso (麻生 太郎).

The technology company, Apple, denies any involvement in exploiting child labour — it only employs adults whose labours, by happenchance, might have been exploited when they were youngsters.

More as it develops.

There once was a dog named Vetch

While the Venezuelan government decides whether to threaten the U.S. and/or British intelligence agencies for the recent destruction of vital equipment meant to scare Central and South American countries into submission, the Association for the Assertion of Ascension assessed the accuracy of counterterrorism techniques taught in typing pools.

Very cool.

Now, a word from our sponsor:

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As you’re probably aware, we’ve provided surveillance data to governments around the world for years.

Why, just this week we were asked by your government to plant a person in each showing of a film about what the world will be like if your current chief executive is reelected.  These casual observers have been capturing facial snapshots of all the audience members, evaluating emotions displayed during specific scenes in the film, and recording private conversations they carry on while entering the theatre, watching the film and exiting in order to ascertain the range of voice intonations that indicate shock, surprise, agreement and/or controlled rage.

In other words, does a documentary like this simply serve to reinforce beliefs, strongly or weakly held?  Can it actually change voting patterns?

In addition, we use DMV data of the audience’s vehicles to gather property ownership, tax history and election data captured in private voting booths.

Select members of the audience were tagged with waterproof audiovisual and GPS data collection devices that send information on an hourly basis for up to 48 hours and then self-destruct, resembling bird droppings, splattered food and other innocuous substances often found on clothing and motor vehicles.

By determining the film’s effect on the actual voting and shopping behaviours of our government’s “customers,” we help keep the local economy running at its current level of inefficiency in order to destroy the economies of rival governments in other parts of the world.

As you can see, we have our fingers on the pulse and our probes on the thoughts of any and every customer you can imagine, from pet spiders to neglected great-aunts.

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We return you to the limerick contest currently in progress:

There once was a dog named Vetch
Who played a mean game of Fetch;
His owner, though blind
Was not very kind —
Ordered his dog to catch, then retch.

A laptop computer hiccups

Having sampled life, I have a taste of, if not for, many lifestyles.

My freshman year at Georgia Tech, I mentioned at least once before I was part of a fundamentalist Christian organisation that insisted young coeds should not mingle except in group situations, in order to prevent immoral thinking or become seduced into devilish acts.

The organisation was run by a nice, married couple, who taught that music could be uplifting and right for the mind as long as it didn’t contain heavy, thumping beats or reached a climax, both of which implied sexual acts which are private matters in the bedroom between two people married to each other to procreate children as a blessing of God.

Otherwise, music should be calming, meditative and glorifying God.

In the same year when I participated in that group, I went to dance clubs, listened to my roommate playing in a jazz trio, marched in the Georgia Tech band, played baritone horn in the Ga. Tech Navy ROTC band (enjoying an enlightening week at Mardi Gras with them) and attended fraternity parties.

Thirty-two years later, I see myself agreeing with the one statement of that nice couple, that if one is going to feel one with the universe (or connect with one’s religious teachings), one should listen to calming, meditative music.

The changing of the guard in religious music, the transition from choirs and organs to rock bands and electric guitars, indicates the church of my youth is not the church of the youth of today.

Of course, I don’t step inside churches very often but that’s a horse of a different colour crossing a creek that it won’t drink water from.

Regardless of one’s belief in or practice of origin stories, one finds a way to affirm one’s self image.

My self image is that of a funhouse mirror, a multisided magnifying glass or crystal ball, which reflects and distorts photons and other particles/states of energy.

Meditating on the self image is, for me, the sounds of nature, a Bach cantata or an E. Power Biggs organ recital.

To go into a church and listen to loud electric guitars and thumping drumbeats is pure entertainment, not meditation.

I still enjoy jazz.  I listen to punk rock.

But they are my concentration on the affirmation of others’ expression of their self images.

It is interesting, sitting here putting these words and sentences together, rereading their implications and asking myself why I wrote this blog entry.

Why?

Because the block of time that defined the subculture of my youth is a museum of sounds and images, a museum I can visit only in my thoughts and can share most easily with the peers of my youth who understand oblique, obscure subculture references without explanation or looking up on the Internet.

The next generation decides what the definition of self image affirmation will be, taking into account the previous generation’s input but creating their own mix of sounds and images.

In my museum, quiet meditation is a basic part of who I am at 50 years of age.

Or, to repeat the maxim, “if the music is too loud, I am too old.”

Back to the storyline currently taking place in the unmapped borough of Progress, Ecuador

An insider inside the insidious secret buildings of an unnamed organisation shared secret inside information with me secretly inside a restaurant where the old-fashioned switcherooski trick of placing a USB stick inside the secret sauce of a sweet dish delivered a soothing sensation.

In other words, I learned why children in certain neighbourhoods are encouraged to open the valves on fire hydrants.

For years, the unnamed organisation has tracked vehicles by placing pedestrian tracking devices on them — namely, fluorescent dyes and radiative markers — that allowed surveillance personnel to follow a quickly-fading trail of vehicles passing through these uncertain, certain neighbourhoods.

With GPS trackers, the ability to tail a suspect has changed.

However, the pedestrian methods still work.

So, yesterday, in cooperation with local unnamed authorities, I placed a few untraceable chemicals in my power washer fluid so that vehicles passing through my neighbourhood and driving through the liquid crossing the road in front of my house can provide backup data for the GPS trackers.

Also, some parents who have signed on for “Track my kids at any cost” program will be given the appropriate data to approach their children about their unregulated behaviour patterns.

Needless to say, military institutes for the improvement of teenagers have, as usual, tapped into the database to refine their prediction algorithms for future enrollment preparation.

Meanwhile, Central and South American countries are deciding whether to prove once and for all that the UK, with its depraved and decadent royal family members, is ripe for a full-scale invasion, aided by years of secret infiltration of British organisations through liberal immigration policies.

In the old days, invasions were carried out by a large armada.

Those days are behind us.

These days, invasions are decades-long in implementation, ensuring that the invaded country never sees what happened to it.

“Divide and conquer” is meticulously carried out in excruciating detail, through propaganda campaigns delivered by organisations within the invaded country itself, by using subliminal messaging of the highest order (disguised in the lowest common denominator).

Common courtesy requires that I tell you no more.

Besides, I accidentally swallowed the USB stick in the styrofoam container of delicious leftovers.

Nothing like a normal bodily function to delay the release of more data, such as what you were doing taking a shortcut through a specific neighbourhood and why Ecuador has more positive press than a country that should be basking in the warmth of Olympic fever but, instead, was brought to its virtual international knees by the simple act of diplomatic immunity for a simple whistleblower.

Horatio Hornblower would be proud.

When you have a whole species dangling from your fingers like marionettes on the small stage of the theatre of life, for your sole soul entertainment, life is good.

Laura lost 45 pounds and Jenn continues to celebrate her good health after a debilitating accident.  Life is better.