Something Frank Davis wrote, in reply to a commenter at his blog this morning, got Clicky disappearing, tout suite…
I once met Richard Peto, long before he got knighted. We shared a mutual friend, and I spent quite a long time talking to him in a large and fairly empty pub in London. I was smoking, of course, and he wasn’t, of course. I think we were talking about something vaguely health-related. And as we talked we moved further and further apart, until our conversation was being conducted at a distance of 20 or 30 feet. It was as if some force of mutual repulsion was pushing us apart. Now, of course, I regard him as a repulsive antismoker – one of those who have been using mathematics to dress bigotry in fine garments. But it seems that the force of repulsion was present long before the smoking ban.
‘Ah!’ I thought, ‘he’s off to find out who Dicky Peto is.’ Or ‘He’ll bring back something about Replusive Force.‘ No, what he did was to bring back a Song…
*Knot even Hans Christian Andersen, Clicky…/rolls eyes…*
At that stage I wasn’t aware of a missive, from the Okie Devil residing in Texas, waiting for me in my inbox… */squints… Bloody dolphin helper, reading my mail before I do…* But then Cade’s missives aren’t just for me, Dear Reader. They’re also for you…
Miss me? That much eh?
Don’t worry honey. I’m kinda fond of that end of the female anatomy too. You appear to be a tad more eager than I usually am. But I gotta know…
Q: Other than perhaps a paycheck or some money…what are you trying to get at?
Just asking, cause if you wait long enough, you may not have to work so hard to get at it.
It may come to you.
Just…tryin to help a sister out.
Not that I’m asking to help you out.
Would you mind? (lol)
Roob calls these things “missives”…whatever in the fuck that is.
Not that I mind what she calls “this shit.”
She can call this shit “I ain’t gonna miss these missives” for all I care. 😉
I’ve gotten a pretty good giggle or two, and some warm fuzzies from her additions and observations of my wordy bullshit observations-ish types of things or whatever in the fuck they are.
And actually, it kinda makes me feel good that someone has a quasi-bead on whatever in the fuck it is that I am doing.
God knows I don’t.
But…that’s just me.
I’m weird like that.
Lemme hit cha wif dis real quix b4 I goes any much furtherz…
Q: Is direct, or indirect, more subversive?
A: SAY FUCKING WHAT?!?!?!?
…you may have said that to yourself anyway. But maybe not.
Thinking in terms of “inspiration”…what inspires you? I know that me personally? I usually do not give a shit what inspires me. “That I am inspired”…is usually what is most important to me. I tend to work very hard to cite my sources and give credit where credit is due. That said, when I am inspired, and tend to remember what inspires me. Unless I forgot or forget. But on the topic and or topics of inspiration, how can we grow if we have no ideas of our own? Or worse…are not allowed to have any ideas of our own? Now…at this point, you might be saying to yourself…
Q: DUDE!!! What in the motherfucking FUCK is this really all about?
Hmmmmm…I dunno. What IS this all about?
But I’ll give you a hint as to what I am “thinking”…<hint>…<hint>…
Q: What is “the final frontier?”
A: <think contextually here>…as in…”where” is “the last frontier?”
The one between your ears?
Let’s go with THAT!!! K?
Speaking of “inspiration”…suck on this…
Q: What is the best way to “hide” information?
Don’t ask me. I’ve got nothing to hide. No more than anyone else anyway.
For all intents and purposes…I’m on open book.
So yesterday, I watched this new Werner Herzog documentary called…
It was very interesting on many levels. A lot to think about. What I really think surprises me, is the zealous nature of many of these big thinkers and doers and movers and shakers. One of the resounding themes that I personally picked up on, was/is…there are those that are trying to get “into away from”…and those that are trying to “get into into.” Those trying to get into our heads and our bodies at our own peril, and those who are trying to into getting away from this planet all together…also, at our own peril. Sorry, but I cannot imagine that “we” are destined to escape Earth/Terra, all under the aspices of “just so the human species can survive.” You are forgetting a FUCKTON of other shit there. If we can’t take care of ourselves here, what in the FUCK makes you think that “we” can take care of ourselves “out there” somewhere else. To me, it is this kind of thinking that is going to lead to only two probable outcomes…
1) Oh! You humans are leaving? Good…Fucking…Riddance!!!
2) Oh! You humans are leaving? Good…Fucking…Luck!!!
Poor stewardship is no more of an excuse for running from damnation, than it is the logical conclusion that we are running to damnation.
That said, your pet projects are yours…not mine.
Stop thinking you speak for me, because you don’t.
I’m fully capable of speaking for myself.
I’m sick and fucking tired of “The Industrial Military Complex” and the associated private business encroaching on the public.
Yeah…those “private sectors” of the public.
Suck on THAT brainiacs.
Yeah…the overtones of the space programs around the world are representative of the best and the worst in our species. Especially the “manned” programs. See how sideways we are already? “Manned Space Travel.” Man…talk about your metaphors for masturbation and phallic jerking off fest type circle-jerks. You send a bunch of men into space alone on a long mission, and that spacecraft is gonna be so fucking covered in spoo, it’ll be like a flying male DNA sample. And this has nothing to do with the “fucking in space” concept. I fuck in space all the time. If there wasn’t a space there, we wouldn’t be fucking. It’s been done. Many times. Dunno bout choo guys and gals.
Mystery = SOLVED! Next!
There is no escaping the fact that there is no escape.
How do I know this?
Q: Where ya runnin to?
Gonna be haulin a metric fuckton or twenty of history books and shit like that with ya?
Not to mention, who is goin with ya and why.
Ever hear of Noah’s Ark?
Might wanna give U-Haul or some other moving company a call.
“Um…do you have any moving trucks available? Um…how many do I need? All of em!”
I mean…here we come as a species…or what is left of it…carrying a fucking freight train of cargo with us…barreling in on some other planet like we fucking own the place. What do you think the natives are gonna think about that?
Gort: OH! Come right on in shitbags! Make yourself right at fucking home! You must the trash that we’ve been listening to blast us with your indiscreet signals for the last few hundred (thousand) years. And I see the trash has brought their trash and their baggage with them! Not that we can tell the difference. Oh! And did I mention that we are allergic to humans? Sorry, we gotta blast you asses to death with death lasers. Sorry, but you shoulda answered our call when we tried to contact you. We offered help. Woulda saved you a trip. But you didn’t return our calls. Sorry…you gotta die now so we can save ourselves from you.
Sorry. But I still believe that we are more likely to receive a visit from some neighbors willing to lend a hand, than we are likely to be able to help ourselves to helping ourselves. Meaning: Helping ourselves to more real-estate, when we treated our own home like shit just as an excuse to throw our hands up, leave it, and leave what was left to fend for itself.
And also…regarding “fending for itself”…
Q: Can anyone show me a single species on this planet that is incapable of the aforementioned?
A: (I’m doubting it)
Unless of course, mirrors are available for reflection.
Contextually speaking of course.
That last one sounds like me alright. I think there is even a picture lurking around somewhere of me in some graveyard where some alien is buried, and I’m laying on top of an empty gave that says something about “Null” or something like that. There’s even an angel nearby giving me a “WTF?!?!?” kind of look. I can’t remember the name of that town or it’s graveyard that I was visiting. I do remember some of my relatives being buried there, but I don’t recall their name(s).
Meh…they prolly don’t know me either, nor would even care to know me.
I dunno…the longer that we seem divided by “the penis” and “the vagina” with respect to “the brain”…the more I think that people are simply looking for something that isn’t there. Prolly all under the auspices of…”WELL!!! IF THERE IS NOTHING THERE…THERE MUST BE SOMETHING THERE!!!” Yeah…ya think? For example, when I was watching that documentary yesterday, and they were showing these doctors “peering into the brain” using this multi-million dollar 16,000 lb. machine or whatever it was…all under the precept of “looking for this or that”…all while it is staring them right in the fucking face? I have no choice…but to wonder. Wander, even.
Is it the fact that “it is?”
Or is it “why it is, that it is?”
Because you can’t get away from the fact that “it is” under either of those. Nor would you be able to get away from it irrespective of an infinite amount of conditionals that you place on “it.” You did not live every moment in the person’s life that you are examining. Therefore, how can you really expect to “fix” or “find a fix” in a moment? Even if it starts at “finding the problem.” Have you considered that “finding the problem” may in fact be the problem itself? And don’t quickly dismiss my quickly dismissing your diagnosis. Diag-nosis. Di-ag-nosis. Dia-gnosis. Yes. I realize words mean things. Sometimes many things. Contextually anyway. Do you?
Q: When looking at “fuzzy logic” do you really not realize what you are looking at?
A: SAY FUCKING WHAT?!?!?!?
On the documentary, the researchers were looking at medical scans of “subjects” watching a video of elephants while the person is hooked up to this machine, and there is a fuzzy display that resembles on the computer display of “what is happening in the brain” that sorta quasi-resembles what is being shown on the video. What’s that you say? You want a clearer picture of what is happening on your machine via the subject? May I make a suggestion?
WATCH THE FUCKING VIDEO!!!
Hows that for clarity?
One more question tho…regarding your analysis(es) of “the brain”…
Q: What is the brain connected to?
A: All, if all, is all, if at all.
I can’t tell you why I am on the journey I am on prolly anymore than you can tell me as to why you are on the journey that you are on. I can except that. What I cannot accept…is when you can. When you have so reduced your quest into a finite vision of purpose and intent, that it can be summed up in a single sentence or phrase or even a word. To me? That’s dangerous. About as dangerous as it gets. I know this, because that’s where I operate. But there is and are all kinds of finite singularities that are not really finite at all. Fuzzy, even. So tangible and easily understandable, that only awe can describe them…whether using words or not. Something like…a smile…sometimes is the only way to describe what you are seeing/feeling/experiencing. Irrespective of senses or how sensed…it’s much bigger than that. So big in fact, that it noticed something so small and irrelevant such as yourself, and dropped by just to say “howdy”…and let you know just how important and non-insignificant you really are.
Afterall…if you weren’t here? Nothing else would be here either.
You are important.
I don’t know you…but you are important to me.
For no other reason than, you are.
❤ – – -NOW FUCK THE FUCK OFF!!!- – – ❤
*Yep… that’s a definite “WTF?!?!?” look the little cherub is casting… /wipes tear from eye… Hmm… Nice legs… /shakes head… Oh Clicky, where in the hell did you find that?*
*Huh! …Supercreep… And what’s happened to the YT links again?*