Today is Blog Silence Day

Silence is Golden, so shut your Blog Hole, was the other contender for the title of this post. "Shut your Blog Hole" will soon be part of the English-speaking world's vernacular. I've invented other words and phrases, so it's no big thing for me; I take it totally in stride, like that guy who has won the big prize in four state lottos.

Blog Silence Day is meant to be like that, "let us observe ten seconds of silence of all those suffering from erectile dysfunction" and everyone bows their heads, except for the camera men who compete for interesting shots, mostly looking for people who don't look tearful about the horrors of ED. (ED and it's companion EM, Erectile Malfunction, are often confused with the cure, ER, Erectile Resurrection, which is a very beautiful thing.)

Blog Silence Day is in observance of 'those who died at Virginia Tech.' Please take into consideration, if you're of that bent, to remember the two aborted fetii who were sucked into oblivion that day at the behest of their 'mothers,' both of whom were undergraduates at VT.

None of the dead have had anything to say about today's observance. Their loved ones, in the majority, are irked at how the memories of the dead are being trivialized. But to me the overriding tragedy of Shut Your Blog Hole Day is that there is no post by Grammie. I shake my fists at the heavens in anger that it has come to this! Oh, the Humanity!!!

Same old, same old . . .

No doubt many of you are going through the same winnowing process right now; all the invitations pouring in, requesting that you speak at graduation/commencement and having to decide which one to accept. I have one friend who accepts as many invitations as possible, but I always pick just one school.

The first time I was the featured commencement speaker, I couldn't figure out which was better, to give them hope by telling them the story of how I made it, or to just speak generally about how school had prepared them for all the opportunities that exist in the good ol' U S of A.

I opted for speaking generally and have stuck to it ever since. After all, my particular path to success is one that doesn't have much to recommend it now, what with the changes in the predatory lending laws, and the current emphasis on fiscal honesty. But opportunities still abound, and that's what I concentrate on pointing out, in terms of their business careers.

I'm probably not the only speaker who also dwells a bit on the graduates' personal lives, and the responsibilities that come with being successful. But I bet not many speakers take the time to explain the strategic role of tattoos and body piercings in the market place of ideas and behavior. I also let them know the importance of marrying well and getting the child-spoiling out of the way as quickly as possible.

My penultimate thought, before my speech's big finale, is about failure. I always tell them that failure IS an option, that, according to the mythology, i.e., the bible, even God once had to start over.

And then we get to the big finish: The whole point to being successful in life is that when you want to play golf, you have the time and the money. There is no greater satisfaction, not to mention proof, of a life well lived than to spend the day at the golf course and then to come home to a happy family evening meal.

I never get tired of the standing ovations...

Or as Rajagopal Ananthanarayanan would say...

Cheese, anyone?

His friends are divided; some call him Raj and some call him Goopie. But without exception, they are all proud of him for getting the heck out of Calcutta and making something of himself. And as one of the three authors of "Towards Real-Time, Mouse-Scale Cortical Simulations," how could they not be?

So next time you dive under the covers and start making squeaky mouse noises starting down around her ankles, know that Raj/Goopie has written a program that can simulate how silly you are.

Primordial Booze . . .

I've never been intoxicated, even by California's relaxed standard of 0.08% BAC. I've never ingested an illegal, or illegally obtained 'recreational' drug. And no, I'm not religious. People in my past may have confused me for a religious person, but I always knew, in my heart of hearts, that I was just trying to get laid.

But I recognize that alcohol exists, ...duh, and I suspect that while there isn't a "Reason," there could be a reason. After all, it is possible for mammals to ferment-from-within, and that is just part of evolution. If getting drunk wasn't part of what being a human being is all about, evolution would have stamped it out.

So back in the dawn of time, as humans reckon it, there was a Primordial Booze, the mother's-milk of alcoholic comestibles. Of course, we'll never know what it was, but that shouldn't stop one of our larger breweries from developing and marketing it, with of course, a suitable gift to yours truly for 'reminding' you to do so.

Thanking you in advance, I remain your hump-able serpent,

Bertram H.G. Bananas, Lz.D.

Wherein I Admit Knowing No Shame . . .

I was raised by Wolfs. Ana and Roger Wolf, to be exact. Their daughter, Tracy, was instrumental in the launch of my foray into the majesty of heterosexual comedy, which never really gets the attention it deserves in coming of age movies.


But besides the Wolfs, and especially Tracy, there were John Wayne movies, Warner Bros. cartoons and Disney Comics. Also Victory At Sea and the Lawrence Welk Show. And no, I never even got to meet the Lennon Sisters. And although I probably could find and walk up to the youngest one's door, I won't. I've moved on.


I got an email the other day showing Eddie Haskell, Wally and the Beaver as they are today. I suppose that 'age' will one day strike me down similarly. I found a photo of the Lennon Sisters as they look today, but you can barely recognize them as human, what with all the air-brushing that was done.

Anyway, like most of us, I am a product of my times. Which I think is a tremendous basis on which to believe in the "Terrorist Threat" from the Middle East, because there isn't a terrorist alive who has ever heard of the Junior Woodchucks.

When we will be have the freedom to say "sh*t"?

Because I'm on double secret probation, I can't spell it out. I can only type sh*t.

I don't know about the United Kingdom, or the Canucks, but certainly in American "sh*t" is our most popular inappropriate word. In combination with "oh" or "holy," it's the most popular last words spoken by those who know they are about to die imminently and violently. In combination with "head" it's probably in the top three for describing people driving too slow in the fast lane. It's probably the first, and one of the most satisfying inappropriate words we learn. Even females seem to be comfortable using it. It isn't blasphemy. It's doesn't insult your mother. It refers to a natural process with which we are all familiar.

And we can't use it on the public airwaves. This is called hypocrisy. And I'm against it. But I still won't say it in front of my mother. Is that bull sh*t, or what?

. . . just call this number...

This is one of the coolest things I've ever heard. It's also just about the ultimate expression of what it is to be a man.

After the first Gulf War, Gen. Schwartzkopf was given a medal by the French Foreign Legion. They had served under his command and apparently they'd had a good time, so they gave him a medal.

I watched this program and it showed the general receiving the medal. And then they interviewed him. There must have been a significant passage of time. Here's the really cool thing he said, and the facial expressions were just what a Hollywood script would call for.

"After they gave me the medal, they gave me a card, the size of a business card. There was a telephone number on the card. Printed above the number, it said, 'If you are ever in trouble, call this number and we will come to your aid.' Isn't that something?"

I'm guessing that most women and all pacifists could read this a hundred times and never get that little surge of 'warriorness' that most men who have grasp of reality would naturally get.

I wonder if there are Social Scientists who interpret data and propose theories without taking our 'warriorness' into account?

Sexual Robots

Don't kid yourself... If you have any notion as to how 'popular' sexually explicit images and videos are, and you're realistic about how far people are prepared to go in any direction they have an interest, then you'll understand where I'm going here.

Thanks to HBO, I'm aware that there already are machines whose sole purpose is to give sexual pleasure. Throughout history there have been cultures which felt that this was the best role a female could serve. Because my wife is such a good cook, I'm prepared to debate against this proposition.

Money being the neat thing that it is, it will be sooner rather than later, that the different technologies involved will get together and meet the two needs, the need for money and the need for sex.

And ultimately there will come the day that you read on Drudge that some old geezer or geezerette has left a fortune to a personal sexual robot.

Okay, okay, I'll admit it... In the early 80s I had a bit of a reputation as a sexual robot. I'm not proud of it, but I'm going to keep my head held high...

Another one bites the Dust . . .

There is a sports writer for the LA Times who just made a radical announcement. He's going on vacation. His round trip tickets read Mike Penner, outbound, and Christine Daniels, inbound. So what's biting the dust is his penis.

What's radical about this is that he's a Sports Writer! For a major American newspaper! He's 40 years old and he's leaving as a man and coming back as a woman!

So he writes a column about it and now we all sit back and wait to see how the professional athletes with whom she will be interacting treat him. This will create stories within stories.

At the end of the column, in it's online version, readers can offer comments. Here's my favorite, so far:

"I think it's wrong, God does not make mistakes."
Submitted by: jeff

Who knew theologians read the Times?

Paging Dr. Wal*Mart, Paging Dr. Wal*Mart

Code Blue! (Speaking of which, whatever happened to blue balls?)

STAT! As in, get me a beer, stat.

Drudge, my favorite right wing purveyor of Truth, passed along this important information. Wal*Mart already has clinics in a few stores in test markets. They contract with local hospitals (and soon mortuaries) to provide quick, affordable service to their shoppers. They hope to expand the service nationwide, which will be handy in case a shopper "goes Cho" and starts shooting up the place with affordable Wal*Mart brand ammunition.

If our local Wal*Mart opens a clinic, I might finally go see a doctor about some of the growths on my genitalia (just some of the growths... a few of them have come in handy). If I could give a fake name and pay in cash it would be a dream come true.

I think I would prefer that Costco do this, since they already take care of my eyes and ears, and ... sell excellent toilet paper.

A complete one stop shopping destination is definitely a trend that I can support. I just hope the sex workers are cool about not unionizing.

It's So Unlike me to Beat a Dead Whorse

(Please forgive the "whorse" thingie...)

Here's another proof (as if I needed it) of the 98.3% rule: This is Tony Blair speaking:

"Bad driving kills 1.2 million people a year and is a bigger danger to the world than war or disease. A thousand young people around the globe die every day in crashes and only Aids kills more young men."

First, the above statement, working backwards, means that 'bad driving' is the LEADING cause of death of young women. Which I personally find appalling, as it is theoretically possible that I might have one day had sex with one of them had she not shuffled off the mortal coil to Buffalo. Hey, if you play the lottery, you know what I'm talking about. You gotta know how to dream!

If PM Blair's facts are correct, and I've never caught him lying about non-sexual things in the past, 'bad driving' is an immediate, genuine concern! MADD is doing it's part. My local County Sheriff is doing his part. The CHP is doing its part.
But it's obviously not enough!

American Global Warming fanatics could score a Three for One victory here. Banning personal use of automobiles would save the environment, save a potential 1.2 millions lives a year AND liberate us from the hated oil barrel over which them there A-rabs currently have us revealingly and awkwardly positioned. We can probably then get by on our own oil, North Sea oil and maybe a little South of the Border oil for our commercial and public sector oil-based transportation needs.

I expect a song by Cheryl Crow any moment now called Three for One, extolling this plan, with a hook about Squeezing One Sheet of Charmin. Sure, not having personal vehicles would take a bit of getting used to, but we could do it! And the results would be totally worthwhile! And 1.7% of us are certain to want to get on this band wagon.

If you're not one of the 1.7% (and it is virtually impossible for one of them to get through any of my entries) you know exactly what the results of this new campaign are going to be. At least this way American car manufacturers would have a good excuse for going out of business. The concept of no personal gasoline powered vehicles on the American roads is so multi-layered and complex that even following one thread of it is staggering!


What's the latin for "Leave everything alone"?

This One is Going to Shock You!

That I should be the one to explain Life on Earth! even astounds me. I would have expected that Stevie Hawkins or, before he died, Carl Sagan, would have been the one to explain this to Humanity. But that's life for you. Weirdness, in alternating shades of chromatic chords.

So here it is, ready or not:

When the earth coalesced from a cloud of swirling inert matter and formed the spinning ball we all love and adore, it was barren of life. And it remained so until that fateful day when a figurative "bus-load" of vaguely humanoid beings on their way to some type of celebration stopped to figuratively "change a tire" and while doing so, emptied the "bathroom's" holding tank. 15.6 gallons of goopy, smelly poop & piss were dumped on a patch of ground in the middle of Pangaea. Then the "bus" flew off and the rest is history...

So you genealogy fanatics, that's the point in time you're trying to back-track to. We are definitely all related and ultimately none of us is descended from royalty.

What do Scientists say...?

First, let's get this clear: There are Scientists out there saying that creationism has as good a chance of being correct as evolution does. You may have even met some of these Scientists at church. My point being that just because a person says he or she is a Scientist doesn't mean that there are truths he or she wouldn't ignore in favor of a upholding a belief system. If you can't admit that there are biased Scientists, it's silly for you to continue reading this.

No serious thinker can believe that the investigation of global weather is a waste of time. The more we know about the future of the earth's weather and weather patterns, the better. Even if all you want to know is when and where you can plan on playing golf, or going skiing. Which is why there is intense investigation into what the future holds for us, weather-wise. Some by people who want to prove a belief system, and some by people who are open-minded and genuinely curious.

But when you are talking about the future, and what it holds, the conclusions reached, no matter how you arrive at them, are predictions. Think about predictions; even the ones you have some control over aren't guaranteed to come true. The easiest thing in the world is to find predictions that never came true.

Now some people might argue that there are some predictions so dire, that even if they won't come true, we're better off preparing for them, in case they do. How can anyone argue with that premise? You can't. You just have to ignore people who talk like that.

Is there a case for ignoring people hollering about the disaster du jour? Depends. If the disaster is human-oriented, like the Jews in Germany in the mid-1930, obviously they should have gotten the hell out when they were warned. But they ignored the small minority who predicted what Hitler had in mind. With regard to ignoring impending natural disasters, it's been humanity's penchant to ignore them, even when some of the proof was staring them in the face. Both for the same reason, which I'll get to...

"Global Warming" is said to be of human origin. Making Humanity the equivalent of the Jews in Germany in the early 1930s. At least those who believe in "Global Warming" are, in effect, saying this. Take action now, they say, or stay and die. Al Gore says this. So let's call this phenomenon 'AlGoreism.' We can call the opposite point of view 'BertBananaism.'

To answer those who will ask, "Bert Bananas, you monster! How can you so blithely gamble with humanity's future by ignoring the people who only want to save your life, and the lives of your many, many, many offspring?"

Here is my answer: You are so full of yourself! 98.3% of humanity does not think about the future and they aren't impressed with people who do! Today is when they are alive and they want to be as comfortable as they possibly can. This is why so many Jews stayed! They refused to be inconvenienced and so they rationalized and made excuses until it was too late. And that's what 98.3% of humanity is doing now. Why do you think this BS of Carbon Offsets is so popular among the rich carbon dioxide producers? They don't want to stop producing carbon dioxide! And think about China, South-East Asia, India, Africa and the Americas south of the Rio Grande? Heck, you can throw 98.3% of the United States and Europe into this mix! 98.3% of us are not losing one bit of sleep over "Global Warming." Meaning that we are not going to change. And the Chicken Littles in the 1.7% group trying to force the changes on us, they'll be removed from whatever power positions they're occupying if they get close to inconveniencing the rest of us.

And that's the way it should be. Because either we, Humanity, adapt to whatever changes come, or we don't. We need to continue reinventing ourselves. And if we don't...

Did you know that genetic studies indicate the possibility that at one point in our evolutionary history the human population was reduced to just a few tens of thousand people? No one is hazarding any guesses why, it is simply being proposed that there are largely indisputable genetic indications of this being the case. I'm saying that whatever calamity Humanity survived then was probably a lot more sudden and rigorous than what we are allegedly facing now.

"Global Warming" is not Hitler. Hysteria aside, there is no need to move/change. At the very worst, we will be forced to find a way to quickly remove CO2 from the atmosphere. Piece of cake. So you 1.7%, stop stressing.

I get out too much...

This lovely vision of American elegance was photographed in Glendale, CA.

What's going on in the owner's mind? Does he or she play golf? If not, what does he or she think of golfers?

Are you aware that there has NEVER been a massacre on a golf course in America? And no, you can't count Tiger's first appearance at the Masters, when he won by 12 strokes. Although how this doesn't qualify as a massacre is certainly an argument you might eventually win.

Ted Bundy didn't play golf. Nor did Ed Gein, David Berkowitz, Dennis Rader, Jeffrey Dahmer, or John Wayne Gacy. No serial killer, ever, has been a golfer. And this is definitely not a coincidence.

By "golfer" I mean someone who has an established handicap, either with a club or within his community of golfers. This means that the golfer has applied himself to the game, both playing it and knowing it's rules. (An annotated Rules of Golf is thicker than the Bible!) You can't become a committed golfer without a modicum of patience and control. I've known some club and tantrum throwers but even they have enough commitment to rules and procedures not be the kind of person to "go Cho" and write a "rantifesto."

The inescapable conclusions are two:

1. Teach kids to play golf and build more golf courses;

2. Any non-golfer, including any you see in a mirror, are suspect and must be watched constantly.

How a non-golfer could be allowed to purchase firearms or ammunition is beyond me. No male should be allowed to breed until he's broken bogey golf. This one "rule," if implemented, would cure ALL the world's problems. There isn't a catastrophe, calamity, problem, concern, situation,worry, fret or impasse that enforcing this rule wouldn't cure.

Please, on my Noble Peace Prize, I want my name spelled Bertram 'Bertsky' Bananas. Thank you.

This contribution to peace and sanity is brought to you by Tiger Woods, Inc., The First Tee Foundation, LLC, and the, Bert Bananas Tour Golf Shoe Laces, Corp., and Chiquita Bananas, TPBTT. (The Power Behind The Throne)

There's nothing like a mass killing to stifle humor

Let this be a warning to you: Life isn't scripted; all the best laid plans of mice and men often go astray.

I'll be back after the funerals.

Try to Avoid Stress . . .

Proverbially speaking, we're all sitting in that chair. You going to try to tell me that your life is so structured and under such rigid control that fate can't manage to dump a pail of cold water on your noggin? ... Didn't think so.

As any golfer knows, there are things that happen to your golf ball after it leaves where it lay at rest that can't always be explained. And no real golfer is silly enough to expect that 'effect' always equals 'cause.' Golf is a perfect metaphor for life. I would have called it a simile, but there are those among you who would wonder what 'a smile' has to do with it... But the thing is, smiling does end up being what it's all about.

Take note in the photo that the man is smiling. He's about to have the smile wiped off his face, but then it's his choice... He can put the smile right back on his face. He can avoid a ton of stress! All he has to do is consider the facts. It's just water. There's beer in the 'frig and his wife is visiting her sister and won't be back for three more days; eventually his grandson is going to come in and go to sleep and then he can go in, undo his grandson's bottom sheet, wrap the little pecker-head in it, thus tying him up and he can, at his leisure, exact his pound, or pail, of flesh.

So the following day he'll be back in his chair, smiling, knowing that his grandson will NEVER do that again.

Stress is an ugly thing and should be avoided whenever possible.

More Snippets . . .

Nabisco is rushing to market with Nappi-Headed Ho-Ho's. There is a photo of the product on the cover. They will cost 79 cents more than regular Ho-Ho's.

The Global Warming Church of America has issued a proclamation that the record cold temperatures and snow falls are actually PROOF of Global Warming and if members don't accept this on faith, there will be consequences. Pope Albert the Gore signed the proclamation, but could not be reached at Church Headquarters. Calls to the Headquarters asking interviews have not been returned.

Don Imus has challenged Rev. Al Sharpton to a duel of integrity. But as Rev. Al is completely unarmed advisors convinced him to just keep talking. On a related note, Rev. Jesse Jackson released to the press an announcement that he is praying for Don Imus and hopes that Mr. Imus will open his heart and receive Jesus as his personal savior. That's it... no punch line...

America still cares about money. So corruption is pandemic and ethics are only considered if the price is right. The meek shall inherit the earth, but not the mineral rights, air space rights or the right to build. Amen.

Radical Democrats and Radical Islamofascists are able to intermarry and produce offspring.

How come no one went to bat for Moslems when calling them all "rag heads" and "towel heads" was the rage? And how come CBS just didn't announce, "Don Imus's opinions do not necessarily reflect the opinions of CBS Radio Network" and let the FCC do it's job of policing the air waves?

How can two American U.S. Senators propose to 'bail out' homeowners who can no longer afford to make their mortgage payments? What kind of special insanity is that?

Hope for the Future!

The photo above was taken yesterday. I was southbound on Vermont, passing by USC. The young lady in the convertible pulled up next to me, she in the S/B left turn lane, and I in the #1 S/B lane. I was heading into South Central and she was heading for the future, turning into student housing, or maybe it was the Sex Ed center?

Anyway, with the USC sign chiseled into the granite, I thought the lietmotif was clear, our youth need education but they've got to have a convertible to get it. Powerful stuff... I almost wept.

Nanogenerator Converts Tiny Movements to Electric Current

The above is a headline from a science article. The article talks about blah blah blah and hope and progress and making life blah blah blah. At leasts that's how I read it.

But what I'm looking for is reducing my electric bill right now. All the electricity that has ever existed or will ever exist is 'currently' available right now. And I want it.

TV remotes should have built in generators, so that when I'm flipping through my available 216 stations, I'm generating enough power to provide for a day's worth of electricity.

And I don't mean to be salacious or unseemly, but if there were a motion-activated generator that could be strapped to the major hand of males between the ages of 13 & 83, America could shut down all our coal powered generating plants.

Humans evolved as action figures. We are full of mechanical energy that needs to be harnessed. Although there does remain the problem of our exhalations: we are carbon producers. The ideal situation would be to alter the genetic code of... oh, say females, so that they start inhaling carbon and exhaling oxygen. Then when the bank robbers lock the hostages in the bank vault, with only two hours of oxygen, we won't have to stress out because as long as there are some female hostages, they can live in there forever.

See? This is what's called "planning ahead." (as opposed to when your remodel a house and are planning a head.)

Now go out and slease the day.

I inSincerely Apologize . . .

Blogger Command Control Center contacted my mother. The internet truly is powerful and the people who run it, in charge of all that power, can seemingly do anything they want. What else explains how they know who my mother is and how to get in touch with her?

They told my mom that I used the word "pricks" in a blog title and that unless she controls my apparent penchant for potty-mouthitness, I would be forever banned from blogging.

So she text-messaged me at work. Which is tough on me, what with me wearing gloves while I'm doing my curb painting. I had to sit there and get a dressing down from her, without a single abbreviation or short cut in her texting.

I didn't bother to try to defend myself by explaining that I had used "pricks" in an entirely appropriate matter. It's very hard to do via text messaging, what with a paint brush drying and a stencil possible sticking to the cement.

She finally gave me a telephone number to call and told me to stop being a naughty little potty-mouth and grow up and stop making trouble for her. I told her NEVER, only I just said it, I didn't text it.

Later when I had the time, I called the number. The lady who answered asked me for my user name and the name of my blog. I gave her the information. There was a pause, then she something along the lines of "ah ha!" and started to lecture me on proper usage of the internet, and how civility is the new watch word. But now that I was in touch with a human being, I was pretty sure I could turn the tables on The Internet-Powers-that-Be.

And I was right. She pulled up the post in question and quickly agreed that I was not making an unsavory reference to the male reproductive organ, or as she kept calling it, the "male member." I finally had to ask her, "Is there a female member?" She got all huffy and we parted on less than the best terms.

And I'm probation...

Which Title Pricks Your Interest More?

The Dawn of Enlightenment

or

The Don of Enlightenment


Personally, I like the second one better because it's the road less traveled. Right away you think of a Mafia Don who opens up a closed society and enriches it with new learning. He's beloved of his people and he loves them back. He has a daughter on whom he dotes and when she's kidnapped he reverts to what his people do best, get revenge. His daughter is recovered, but she's now pregnant, having had an egg "quickened" (oh man, that scene was HOT!) by the Don's mortal enemy, Giuseppe Pastrami, often referred to as the Don of the Dark Ages. From there the action crescendos to thermonucular(sic) war between gouda and weevil, their respective pet hamsters.

Now in production at Miramar Studios.

Sea Levels inexorably rising; humankind must buy waders or become extinct!

It's true. And it's not Global Warming!

Nope, it's volcanic action. Every year just one volcano in Hawaii is adding 32 acres of new land. Land that displaces sea. Meaning that nano-inch by nano-inch, the level of the sea is pushed higher. Old island volcanoes add to their land mass yearly. New volcanoes are born every year, adding more and more land mass, pushing the seas higher.

And volcanic action is not dependent on the temperature of the sun. So that when we're through the current cycle of increased solar activity and temperatures begin to cool, and Al Gore's scheme to sell carbon off-set credits finally achieves the status of the Teapot Dome scandal, humanity will still be facing rising sea levels.

Thus the need to make sure that we have enough rubber waders on hand will still be critical. I won't actually give you the NASDAQ symbols for those companies that make waders; you need to be able to learn to do things for yourself. I won't always be here to give you a fish, so it's incumbent on me to teach you HOW to play go fish.

Blogs of Personal Despair: Breaking new ground sirloin steak sandwiches, "Can I buy a vowel, Pat?"

Despair, deep & profound despair, doesn't show up much in personal blogs. Although I do read a blog by a Bankruptcy attorney in which he features stories told to him by his clients about how they came to be in their individual morbidly despairing situations. (Which is not the same as despairingly morbid situations; ask any homicide detective.)

But although there is plenty of despair in his blog, it's not the attorney's personal despair. He seems to be quite happy and talks a lot about his favorite sport, kidney punching, and his favorite pastime, collecting Canadian Impressionist bacon paintings.

What occasioned this post was stumbling across a blog in which the blogger was simply begging for money. He identified himself, provided a few broad strokes regarding his current pitiful condition, asked for money, and then provided an address. Then there was a final reflection about how what goes around comes around.

Which is what annoyed/sparked me. Because like so many supposed pearls of wisdom, the ol' 'what goes around comes around' aphorism is just so much bilge water. I'm not saying that it's not true that how you treat people is likely to be how they'll treat you, I'm saying that it's not a rule of life, or a law irrevocably established since the foundation of the world... It's more wishful thinking than anything else.

And now please, a moment of silence as you reflect upon how lucky you are that you've been able to escape paying full cost for all your follies. And if you'd like to drop a dime on yourself, I'll be happy to read all about it in your blog. It could be quite liberating! What's the worst that could happen? Oh sure, maybe people will make fun of you, forward the post to your boss, your parents, your spouse, your ex-spouse, your ex-ex-spouse, your children, your mistress, your competitors, your local District Attorney, the FBI, the IRS... What could it hurt?

Let's play Spin The Bottle !!

There is a video game in production now based on the ol' favorite, Spin the Bottle. Like most video games, it's all about the graphics, and a pumping up of the rules.

Now it will be, "Tramping Through History with Strip Spin the Bottle." The game comes with a web cam so that likenesses of you, your significant other(s) and your friends can be integrated into the game. How much of your likeness can be put into the game is entirely up to you, but it's obvious, based on the "strip" part of the game title, that the more you you photo, the more they have to work with. Supposedly the entertainment value comes in 'point of view' imaging, so that you get different views of the action, as the POV shifts from player to player.

There are built in 'avatars' who can be called on to play. So when you make that first spin of the bottle, the players in the circle around it can include you, your significant other, Abraham Lincoln, Mae West, Napoleon, Czarina Catherine the Great, Mohammad (chapped lips and all), Mother Teresa, etc. Unfortunately, the only 'live' people included in the game --in amazing anatomical detail-- are porn stars.

So there ya go. You are now in possession of information that only a very few people have. So if you've ever wanted to kiss, fondle and otherwise get to "Know" famous people from history and the world of porn, now is the time to start putting a little something aside each pay day, because this puppy won't be cheap.

Today's Crucification is brought to you by Ace Hardware...

The above photo shows the old Filipino sport of "Tie me Kangaroo down, sport..."

True story: there is a Filipino gentleman who pushed steel tubes into the wounds on his hands and feet and let them heal in place. Now the nails go through the tubes and not his flesh so he can be nailed to the cross quick as a bunny. He is sponsored by a leading Filipino car dealership.

Another favorite form of torture 'back in the day' was to impale the victim on a sharp stake. The sharp stake was inserted into the anus and the victim was secured, standing up, on his toes. As the victim tired, or rather, as his legs tired, he would slide down the stake, which increased the damage the stake was doing, which caused the legs to tire more. Blood loss, resignation, etc. ... Death was unavoidable, but constipation was never an issue.

Imagine if they had done in Jesus via this method, instead of Crucification! What would Catholics wear around their necks?

But I have heard people curse using an eerily appropriate phrase.

Attracting Customers, but sad at the end...

People are always asking me, how can you make a living painting house addresses on curbs?

My answer is always the same, by working smart. Anyone can make a living in any career if he or she will just work smart. This is right up there with 'buy low, sell high,' and 'never give an Englishman a break.'

One of the things I did to 'work smart' was to create the item you see at the right. This is my foot in the door. I load it onto a trailer and find a likely neighborhood to try plying my trade. I off load "Scootie," climb aboard and start driving up and down the street. I have all my paints, brushes, stencils, etc., in the trailer.

I invariably draw a crowd of people who want to ask me questions, get rides, take photos, etc. And then I make my pitch. And I ALWAYS get business. Because people want me hanging around, being my droll, entertaining self. I get a lot of people after a bit wanting to touch the hem of my garment. I let them. It can't really hurt and it makes them feel good. Sure, I get stories about how people have been healed, but I deprecatingly pass them all off as happy coincidences.

Anyway, I just thought you'd like a little peek into my 'real world' life.

By the way, my kids are NOT interested in following in my footsteps. Used to be they'd do ANYTHING to get rides on 'Scootie' but not anymore... not anymore.

Tagged

A fellow blogger (bloggerette?) has officially 'tagged' me. Apparently if I do not honor the 'tag' I will be covered in fungus by the morrow. I'll try to respond to the tag, but I shall not 'tag' seven others, even if as a result my nostrils turn inside out, thus allowing me to use my nasal cilia to more vividly display my emotions.

Here's the message I got: Hi Bertsky....I was recently "tagged" to post 7 songs that were either special to me, my favorites, or that I was listening to at the present time....It is called a music meme (??) and I am supposed to pass it on to 7 others when I got done.

First off... "Bertsky"?

Well, I love it! I can imagine a sultry wood nymph twisting my forelock into an intricate curly Q while whispering sweet "Bertsky Wertskys" in my cauliflower ear. Even just thinking about it has my pants in a dither.

Regarding songs I listen to, as in they come on and I listen, that's a very limited field. I could list seven Paul Shanklin parodies I've heard, from listening to Rush Limbaugh, but while this does serve as a meme of genuinely genuine genuineness, it's not what the game is looking for.

So here is a list of seven songs that are special to me:

Handel's Messiah (Not just the Hallelujah Chorus! The whole darn shootin' match! I had a four LP album and every Christmas when I was growing up, I'd listen to it and plot my revenge on Kris Kringle for what he was not going to do for me.)

Concierto de Aranjuez, by Rodrigo (Swear to god this really happened. I'm on a first date with a girl who worked in an office next to mine. We're driving home from the movie and she's flipping stations and gets to a classical station. I've been a nut about the Concierto de Aranjuez since I first heard it. I had the LP. I knew it backwards and forwards. Well, it's playing. She knew it, and figuring I was as yokel-ly as my appearance portended, she said that she would commit unspeakable acts of a fornicative nature on my person if I could name the piece that was playing before it ended. I quickly listed a number of unspeakable acts of a fornicative nature and asked if they were included and she said they were. And so I then named the song. She backed out of the deal, pleading a headache...)

The Purple People Eater, by Sheb Wooley (I lost my virginity to this little ditty.)

All Creatures of our god and king, by Francis of Assisi (I sang this in two different Christian denominations. One was a six dollar bill and the other was a four dollar bill. In other words, not denominations that really mattered. But if there were a god, which there isn't, he would be pretty sick of this song by now, since Frankie wrote it back in the 1200s. The music is what's great. There should be more songs with Alleluias sprinkled liberally in them. Why haven't the Hip-Hoppers discovered this powerful word?)

The Bristol Stomp, by the Dovells (I lost my virginity again!)

I'd do anything for Love, But I won't do that, by Meatloaf (I did not lose my virginity to this song. Hearing Meatloaf make this declaration finally helped me to find the strength within to just say no.)

Leaves that are Green by Paul Simon (This is the one that starts, "I was 21 years when I wrote this song, I'm 22 now but I won't be for long." Doesn't that just say everything there is to know about life? Plus I once again lost my virginity to this song.

CULTURE COMBAT

With only the perception necessary to chose drinking water over drinking molten lava, you can see where this is going.

Samurai House serves the best, THE BEST!, almond shrimp I've ever had. I'm a regular here whenever we play golf in the Rowland Heights area. And Saturday was one of those days. I buy my one-entree combo, steamed rice and almond shrimp, with two Diet Cokes, and sit and eat and read. I'm here enough so that they recognize me, plus I leave a tip...

So I walked in on Saturday, with the above book. It never for a second occurred to me that there would be a problem. Not one employee was born within 15 years of the end of WWII. Plus how would they ever see the cover? But half way through the meal I needed another napkin (runny nose, not untidiness) and I got up, turned the book over so I wouldn't lose my place and walked to the counter. While I was away from the table, one of the employees walked by and glanced at the book. I bet he probably was wondering why a 'See Dick Run' book could be so thick. I imagine he did a nice double take. But for sure, when I was walking back to the table, I could see that he was figuring that although I probably outweighed him, it was likely that I didn't know half the karate stuff he did. Plus I was maybe 30 years older, although obviously beautifully maintained.

As I began to sit down, he asked me what the book was about. Perhaps I was a bit cavalier in my gruff response... "If you can read, you know what it's about."

He said something in his native tongue and he was quickly joined by two other staff people. When they joined him, he picked up the book, which I thought very bold of him, and showed them the cover. I could see one of them was having trouble puzzling out all the words.

It was a mistake, but one I'd probably repeat under similar circumstances. "Hey, this is just one writer's version of historical events. He simply thinks that Hirohito was not an innocent dupe of the military, that his was the guiding hand in preparing for, fomenting and then declaring war on Korea, China, Russia and America. I haven't finished it, but I presume the author is going to offer an opinion as to why it was that we, the United States, didn't hang the little Nip emperor by his scrawny samurai neck." The last was a calculated insult, and a graphic example of how men who should know better often drown in their own testosterone.*

Now they were buzzing like angry bees in their native tongue. The next English that was spoken was by the older of the two men who'd been summoned by the first guy. "We want you to leave. You have insulted our food."

Now that was a total lie. I love their food. But he probably figured that twisting things around would serve them better should the matter escalate. And he was right. So being outnumbered, and having been outfoxed, I picked up my styrofoam container, my one remaining Diet Coke, and the book, and walked out.

As I got to the door, I looked back. The Japanese owner was looking at me from the rear of the store. I could see that he had no idea what was going on. But he must be a heck of a boss if his three Latino employees would go to bat for him like that. So I turned and bowed to him. He bowed back, a big smile on his face.

I can only imagine the confusion that must have ensued. But I'm kinda scared about going back...



* the phrase ...men drowning in their own testosterone is covered by international patents and may not be used EVER by anyone other than me.

Albeit

Here's a phrase that could have come from any 'literary' novel:

The house was warm and comfortably furnished, albeit in a style several decades out of date.*

See? It's my belief that this type of 'literary' writing is just filler. Back in the day of Dickens, novelists were paid by the word, not by the story. So for awhile using more words was more important than the story line. And if you've ever read any John Irving, you'll know what I mean.

Here's another thing about the phrase I isolated: it's for women. If you asked any 'normal' American man what this decade's furnishing look like, compared to 'several decades ago, he'd ignore the question and look over your shoulder at the Denny's commercial on TV. Furnishings are not what men EVER spend any time thinking about, assuming that you're not including the electronic contents of his media room.

Furnishing are where men move pillows and throws so they can sit down. Men sit on furnishings. The best furnishings either tilt back or you can put your feet up on them. That's pretty much all men know about furnishings.

Any surface upon a human will comfortably rest his/her butt is generally parallel to the ground, or to be more particular, at right angles to the pull of gravity, and b e positioned close to the height of the knee. That's it. That's furnishings.

Now my wife... Our old neighbor died. We'd never been in her home, what with her paranoia. The house finally sold and about a month after the new neighbors moved in, my wife finally got a look inside. 14 years we lived next door and this was her first look. She came back to tell me that she felt so sorry for the new neighbors, with everything about the house being so OLD!

I asked her if the door worked. She said yes. I asked if they had cabinets and plumbing, and did everything work. She said yes. So then I launched into a soliloquy about 'fashion' v. 'utility' and how being a slave to the first often came at the loss to the second. You already know she didn't hear a word I said. But it doesn't take away from the point I'm making: the business of business is making money and changing 'styles' is all part of it. Compare the changes in computers over the past 15 years. Now those are changes worth paying for. But if you've got a sofa, and you've either trained the cat or de-clawed it, that sofa should last you a life time. How can any intelligent person talk about changes in furnishing styles?! If your butt feels good in a chair, why would you spend money on a different style chair?

Thank you.

And albeit is a perfectly wonderful word that no one teaches anymore!



* Sight Unseen by Robert Goddard

Per AFP, whoever they are....

Top Ten Media April Fools Hoaxes: (Would any of these have taken you in? Which one was your favorite?)

1 -- In 1957, a BBC television show announced that thanks to a mild winter and the virtual elimination of the spaghetti weevil, Swiss farmers were enjoying a bumper spaghetti crop. Footage of Swiss farmers pulling strands of spaghetti from trees prompted a barrage of calls from people wanting to know how to grow their own spaghetti at home.

2 -- In 1985, Sports Illustrated magazine published a story that a rookie baseball pitcher who could reportedly throw a ball at 270 kilometers per hour (168 miles per hour) was set to join the New York Mets. Finch was said to have mastered his skill -- pitching significantly faster than anyone else has ever managed -- in a Tibetan monastery. Mets fans' celebrations were short-lived.

3 -- Sweden in 1962 had only one television channel, which broadcast in black and white. The station's technical expert appeared on the news to announce that thanks to a newly developed technology, viewers could convert their existing sets to receive color pictures by pulling a nylon stocking over the screen. In fact, they had to wait until 1970.

4 -- In 1996, American fast-food chain Taco Bell announced that it had bought Philadelphia's Liberty Bell, a historic symbol of American independence, from the federal government and was renaming it the Taco Liberty Bell.

Outraged citizens called to express their anger before Taco Bell revealed the hoax. Then-White House press secretary Mike McCurry was asked about the sale and said the Lincoln Memorial in Washington had also been sold and was to be renamed the Ford Lincoln Mercury Memorial after the automotive giant.

5 -- In 1977, British newspaper The Guardian published a seven-page supplement for the 10th anniversary of San Serriffe, a small republic located in the Indian Ocean consisting of several semicolon-shaped islands. A series of articles described the geography and culture of the two main islands, named Upper Caisse and Lower Caisse.

6 -- In 1992, US National Public Radio announced that Richard Nixon was running for president again. His new campaign slogan was, "I didn't do anything wrong, and I won't do it again." They even had clips of Nixon announcing his candidacy. Listeners flooded the show with calls expressing their outrage. Nixon's voice actually turned out to be that of impersonator Rich Little.

7 -- In 1998, a newsletter titled New Mexicans for Science and Reason carried an article that the state of Alabama had voted to change the value of pi from 3.14159 to the "Biblical value" of 3.0.

8 -- Burger King, another American fast-food chain, published a full-page advertisement in USA Today in 1998 announcing the introduction of the "Left-Handed Whopper," specially designed for the 32 million left-handed Americans. According to the advertisement, the new burger included the same ingredients as the original, but the condiments were rotated 180 degrees. The chain said it received thousands of requests for the new burger, as well as orders for the original "right-handed" version.

9 -- Discover Magazine announced in 1995 that a highly respected biologist, Aprile Pazzo (Italian for April Fool), had discovered a new species in Antarctica: the hotheaded naked ice borer. The creatures were described as having bony plates on their heads that became burning hot, allowing the animals to bore through ice at high speed -- a technique they used to hunt penguins.

10 -- Noted British astronomer Patrick Moore announced on the radio in 1976 that at 9:47 am, a once-in-a-lifetime astronomical event, in which Pluto would pass behind Jupiter, would cause a gravitational alignment that would reduce the Earth's gravity. Moore told listeners that if they jumped in the air at the exact moment of the planetary alignment, they would experience a floating sensation. Hundreds of people called in to report feeling the sensation.