The saga of global management continues…

The Committee revealed today that it had convinced U.S. military leaders to show a soft side, a sympathetic position in its support of our species.

The military will soon divert resources to stop global warming by strategically triggering bombs and other military-grade devices underground, causing magma pockets to combine into giant high-pressure chambers under volcanoes around the globe.

Then, in a series of timed explosions, the military will set off volcanic eruptions that will spew ash plumes tens of kilometres into the atmosphere, blocking the Sun’s overheating power, thus reducing the greenhouse effect for several decades, allowing our species to maintain the status quo in current crop allocation ratios.

Negotiations with the airline industries over disrupted flight paths are ongoing at this time.

Meanwhile, the Committee is trying to address population growth issues, and may resort to taking “excess” babies from overproductive families and training the children to become future workers on offworld farms, easily expendable in the big picture, in other words.

The sooner the babies can be launched, the less fuel used and the better they will acclimate to the gravitational forces and emotional stresses of life on our Moon, Mars, and other celestial bodies.

The Committee is soliciting ideas for the perfect surrogate mothers to tend to these babies as they reach prime working age, around six or seven, and then will not need “formation years” nurturing any longer, converting the surrogate mothers to worker bots on the farms.

Flashback, courtesy of my father, Dad

Real football -- no pads!

What do you see in a photo?

My father sees his 1966 Chrysler station wagon.

I see my racing bike which could leap over dirt ramps.

A doctor sees my broken wrist and cast.

Who sees the fashionable pants?

Who sees the helmet and cleated shoes?

The brick wall?

The potted plant?

The cracked sidewalk?

The jersey?

The window shutter?

The type of photo paper?

The date?

What else do you see in this nine-year old boy staring back at you, unable to play football because of a plaster-of-paris cast?

Found items under the watchful eyes of the scanner…

While my wife and I sorted between keepsakes and donation-worthy material in her mother’s house, we created a pile of items that fell somewhere in-between — interesting to look at but not worth adding to the piles of curiosities collecting dust in our house.

What to do with them…hmm…

What else?  Scan ’em and then give ’em away.

Examples below — more to follow, as time permits.

Levity in today’s hotly-debated political climate

An online email sent to my local national legislative member (a/k/a MC, Member of Congress, Congressman), named the 2011 Fighting Freshman of the Year

Congressman Brooks:

Recently, a dance instruction studio — Kinesthetic Cue Dance Club, located at 8006 Old Madison Pike in Madison, Alabama — celebrated its 13th birthday.

As customers, my wife and I would like, with the consent of the owner, Harold Renneberg III, to recognize this achievement.

Harold is a military veteran with a good sense of humor.

In today’s climate of political polarity, we would like you to sponsor a motion to declare the 1st of April “Male Pattern Baldness Awareness Day,” to which Harold Renneberg, going bald himself, is quite fond of saying he’s fully aware is much needed.

Not only would this give us men growing bald patches a moment to reflect on our shiny domed pates, it would show that military veterans ARE finding viable ways to be productive members of society by opening local businesses and creating much-needed jobs.

We thank you in advance for your assistance in promoting this day and honoring Harold on his business milestone.

We wish you well in the upcoming election and are glad you have represented our district with dignity and dedication.

Sincerely,
Richard L. Hill, II

P.S. For a recent magazine article about the dance studio, read here: http://www.kinestheticcue.com/misc/strictlyballroom.htm

A magnified view

Can you believe this is a magnified view of a subterranean (actually, submartiansurface? [ 😉 ]) ecosystem captured in a photograph by a secret Mars exploratory mission sent by the Committee several years ago and just now returning to Earth with valuable data for us to get started on negotiating mining operations that’ll destroy life on Mars we never got to know personally?:

Just wait until we try to sell you underground warm mineral springs timeshares on the red planet!

And if you can’t/won’t visit our celestial sister, we’ll rent our virtual Martian surrogates to give you the experience of living there in hourly/daily/weekly slots, able to print 3D surrogate versions of you in no time flat!

Give us a call!  Availability is limited!  The first 50 callers get a special bonus just by mentioning this advert!

Usted es un colombiano experto en SEO, ¿no? Por lo tanto, hermanos, os encomiendo.

Here lies an outlier

As we get to know more and more about each other, we will grow more comfortable accepting each other’s subcultural differences, appreciating how the definition of success can vary so widely that it almost seems impossible seven billion varieties point to the same thing: our species’ survival and growth.

Yes, it includes fear, crime, ecosystem disasters, economic failures and myriad ways in which the universe we live does not always point toward our survival and growth.

Dust particles — small fibers, short hair, unidentifiable tiny, twisted objects — seemingly oblivious to gravity, float through a beam of sunshine propped up between the writing desk and the dirty window.

A few days ago, I visited with some friends whose father recently died.  My friends and I had spent a few years together in primary and secondary school over 30 years ago.  One friend I hadn’t seen in at least 35 years.

Needless to say, we knew little about one another except what we have seen in the past couple of years while sharing space on a computer server farm spread across data centers around the world dedicated to an online social media website called facebook.

In other words, we had little to say to each other in person that we didn’t already know, or should have remembered seeing in our online personality profile.

The moment was there for comfort at the time of loss of the family patriarch.

Soothing words.

Fond memories of our youth spent under the guidance of a chemical research/sales engineer and literal/figurative father figure.

I cough, sending dust particles on a swirling dance out of and back into the sunlight, which then disappears with clouds passing overhead, reappearing a few minutes later at a new angle, attached to the bright, yellow glob amidst the blue-painted dome high above.

An airplane swoops and circles the patch of sky nearby, making the sounds of the television playing a movie called “The Longest Day” seem live and in real 3D viewing/listening closeness.

After visiting with the friends, my wife and I returned to her mother’s house, continued our sorting through physical reminders of my wife’s mother, father and brother, all deceased.

My wife’s nuclear family is no more, except in her memories.

Her brother’s widow and children still live.  She has cousins spread around the globe.  And her family by marriage — my blood relatives, including nuclear family (father, mother, sister), as well as extended family (nieces, nephew, cousins, aunt, uncle, etc.).

My friends’ father lived for 84 365-day, 24-hour cycles around our local star.

As the planet spun, my friends’ family influenced those they met, all of them tied to Earth by gravity, the curvature of spacetime, we surmise.

We can see the familial influence through the eyes of the intersection of sets of states of energy, adding meme upon meme, including the word “meme,” to build physical representations of ideas like “idea,” to arrive at the point where schoolmates meet 30+ years later to reminisce about a few years spent in growing up together toward adulthood.

Did any of the dust particles floating in the air at the church where, due to one death, we met to talk about good times in childhood attach themselves to me and then re-enter the airspace in the sunbeam not far from this computer?

What about the particles I can’t readily see, such as water molecules, bacteria, dead skin cells or other microscopically miniscule minutiae?

We are connected in ways we rarely take time to notice, if we can see the connections at all.

How do I explain a blog post composed only of pictures to a blind person who uses a Braille keyboard and automatic audible reader?

How do I explain wireless radio pathways between a notebook computer and wireless router to people who can’t feel or don’t communicate signals at a wavelength of 0.125 m or about 5 inches?

Although… you know, some people say they can feel 2.4 GHz radio waves and other phenomena they claim causes them radiowave/EMF sickness.

But let’s get back to the global story of our lives, where financial gurus want to prop up a system that is no longer a viable connection between the macro and microeconomic levels…