This is a very special post, my Tender Lumplings, for a couple of reasons. The first of which is that this is the first installment of A Night In The Kingsbury Run to be composed and posted on a Mac. Yes, I have joined the dark side and bought an Apple. It's not that bad really. Actually, it is pretty darn cool. I'm digging it a lot. I bought it for one specific reason, to make music. Everyone said if you want to record music you should have a Mac so I broke down and got a used one. But now I'm digging it so much I might just switch to it for everything. Maybe. We will see.
The second thing that makes this post so special is that it is post number 42. And I shouldn't have to tell you why that is important. But I will explain anyway just in case some of you are not in on the secret.
You see, 42 is the most important number in the galaxy. It isn't the funniest number, that is 37. And it isn't the loneliest number, that is the number one, or so I've heard. No, 42 is the most important number because it is the answer. The answer to what? Well, everything. It is the answer to the ultimate question of life, the universe and everything. The only problem is... we don't know the question. You see, when the great computer Deep Thought was created they asked it what the answer was. So it did as it was asked and found the answer: 42. But without the question, the answer was a little hard to understand. So another computer had to be built to figure out the question. But it was destroyed before it could complete it's program.
So I think we should help. What do you think the question might be? Let's play the ultimate game of Jeopardy. We have the answer, now let's find the question.
You may, and should, recognize all this as the work of the late Douglas Adams. The author of the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy series and other wonderful works would have been 60 years old this year on March 11. He passed away on May 11, 2001. And each year he is celebrated on May 25 with a holiday known as Towel Day. He was a visionary writer, a charitable man dedicated to preserving disappearing species, and a guitar player. And it is fitting that this post be written on a Mac, Douglas was an aficionado.
So, don't panic, just grab a towel and have a good day. Until we see each other again my Tender Lumplings.
Sunday, May 27, 2012
Tuesday, May 22, 2012
Underwater Wine Making
OK, here is the deal. I have stated here on several occasions the fact that I have the most vivid, unconventional, strange and amazing dreams. They are weird. They are complex. They are in color (I don't care what wikipedia says). Now I don't want to sound like a broken record and I hate to keep bringing up the dream thing but every now and then I endure a night of unsurpassed mental imagery that I simply cannot ignore. So please bare with me for a few minutes, my Tender Lumplings and I will try not to freak you out too much.
First a quick review of the night. It began with a visit to a friend of mine and his wife. Simple enough, but in this dream version his wife was Hispanic and her entire family, none of whom spoke English, lived in the house with them. They didn't like me much judging from the tone of their voices and the few Spanish insults I understand. Then I walked down the street to where my grandmothers house had just burned down. I knocked over a tree and it smashed my Dad's garage with him in it. He wasn't hurt, just pissed. After that I found myself in a post apocalyptic setting where most of the world had been destroyed and covered by water. The water was very thick because of all the people that had died dissolved in the ocean and made it thick. What little ground was left was soggy and radioactive. There was however a farmer's market selling what seemed to be fruits and vegetables. There was some guy who wanted to make wine with the "grapes" they were selling even though everyone said not too. He planted a vineyard in the radioactive ground at the bottom of the ocean and started making wine. Meanwhile there was a museum to show what the fish of the old world were like but the examples that were left started dying off. So we had to close the museum and get everyone out before they realized what was happening. Then I woke up.
I have given up a long time ago trying to figure out what my dreams mean. I would go nuts trying to superimpose some sort of symbolism onto these messed up images. They really mean nothing. But I am very curious about just what kind of fucked up mental chemistry produces this stuff. Where does it come from? I could never think up this stuff in my waking hours yet every night my slumbering mind can produce hours of the junk. There must be something seriously wrong in there.
I know how to fix it. But I can't tell you what it is. In the meantime I'm just gonna get my brain really drunk before bed. I hear you, "no, no that's a terrible idea." And you are right. So I'm not gonna do that every night... just Monday through Sunday. Until next time, Dearies.
First a quick review of the night. It began with a visit to a friend of mine and his wife. Simple enough, but in this dream version his wife was Hispanic and her entire family, none of whom spoke English, lived in the house with them. They didn't like me much judging from the tone of their voices and the few Spanish insults I understand. Then I walked down the street to where my grandmothers house had just burned down. I knocked over a tree and it smashed my Dad's garage with him in it. He wasn't hurt, just pissed. After that I found myself in a post apocalyptic setting where most of the world had been destroyed and covered by water. The water was very thick because of all the people that had died dissolved in the ocean and made it thick. What little ground was left was soggy and radioactive. There was however a farmer's market selling what seemed to be fruits and vegetables. There was some guy who wanted to make wine with the "grapes" they were selling even though everyone said not too. He planted a vineyard in the radioactive ground at the bottom of the ocean and started making wine. Meanwhile there was a museum to show what the fish of the old world were like but the examples that were left started dying off. So we had to close the museum and get everyone out before they realized what was happening. Then I woke up.
I have given up a long time ago trying to figure out what my dreams mean. I would go nuts trying to superimpose some sort of symbolism onto these messed up images. They really mean nothing. But I am very curious about just what kind of fucked up mental chemistry produces this stuff. Where does it come from? I could never think up this stuff in my waking hours yet every night my slumbering mind can produce hours of the junk. There must be something seriously wrong in there.
I know how to fix it. But I can't tell you what it is. In the meantime I'm just gonna get my brain really drunk before bed. I hear you, "no, no that's a terrible idea." And you are right. So I'm not gonna do that every night... just Monday through Sunday. Until next time, Dearies.
Tuesday, May 8, 2012
These Are A Few Of My Favorite Things
The time has come once again my Tender Lumplings to acknowledge the anniversary of my birth. I didn't, you will notice, say celebrate. I do celebrate my birthday in my own way but I try not to make a big deal of it. I don't want a bunch of fuss and hoopla. On my birthday, as with every other day in the year, I only want to be with my wife and my animals. The main difference being I may get some cake, or pie. Oh, and there are usually some gifts.
I don't get gifts like I did as a kid. Back then there were presents with wrapping and ribbon and all that sort of things and it was great. But as we get older the gifts get less elaborate. Usually there is no fancy wrapping and ribbon. Often there is not even a gift bag. Somebody just hands you something and that is that. And that is fine with me. I don't need all that stuff. Heck I don't even need gifts. Having grown older and wiser and having studied for some time now various theological and mystical ideologies, I have progressed passed the need for and pursuit of material things. I require only the meekest of physical objects to sustain myself. My intellectual and spiritual possessions are far more important.
And that is all crap. I have studied various theological and mystical ideologies and I still don't get the whole "renounce possessions" stuff. I like my stuff and I don't want to throw it all away and see no reason why I should. The late Guru Maharishi Mahesh Yogi was once asked why he surrounded himself with flowers when you were not supposed to want for physical things. He responded by saying why not surround yourself with beautiful things? God made all the flowers of the world and they are beautiful so why not admire them. The same goes for anything as far as I am concerned. If God is everyone and everything then why do all the so-called "holy" people keep saying "renounce all worldly objects". And if possessions and money and such are to be considered worthless, why are the streets of Heaven paved with Gold. A: that would make a lousy paving surface for a street and 2: who needs gold in Heaven. I was kind of hoping Heaven would be like an all-inclusive vacation: everything is paid for and you only have to have cash for like liquor.
The point of this is simply I like my stuff. I even admit to loving some of my stuff. I have some books I actually love. I have some signed copies of some Iain Banks that I really treasure. I have several first editions that are really cool. I also love my car and my guitars. I really love my guitars. I don't play that well but I do love those chunks of wood. I do not love my TV or my DVDs. They are cool but I don't love them. And as much as I treasure music, (it really is probably the biggest joy of my life), I don't love my compact discs. Maybe if I collected old vinyl LPs? They have a very romanticised culture around them but I don't go for that.
So, with my birth anniversary looming in the headlights I am embracing my materialistic side and saying "come on with the pressies". And I would also like to acknowledge the dates exactly one and two weeks prior to my birthday, the 3rd and 10th of May, which are the birthdays of two of the greatest ladies to ever grace the surface of this ball of mud. They are loved and missed dearly. Take care my dearies, until we meet again...
I don't get gifts like I did as a kid. Back then there were presents with wrapping and ribbon and all that sort of things and it was great. But as we get older the gifts get less elaborate. Usually there is no fancy wrapping and ribbon. Often there is not even a gift bag. Somebody just hands you something and that is that. And that is fine with me. I don't need all that stuff. Heck I don't even need gifts. Having grown older and wiser and having studied for some time now various theological and mystical ideologies, I have progressed passed the need for and pursuit of material things. I require only the meekest of physical objects to sustain myself. My intellectual and spiritual possessions are far more important.
And that is all crap. I have studied various theological and mystical ideologies and I still don't get the whole "renounce possessions" stuff. I like my stuff and I don't want to throw it all away and see no reason why I should. The late Guru Maharishi Mahesh Yogi was once asked why he surrounded himself with flowers when you were not supposed to want for physical things. He responded by saying why not surround yourself with beautiful things? God made all the flowers of the world and they are beautiful so why not admire them. The same goes for anything as far as I am concerned. If God is everyone and everything then why do all the so-called "holy" people keep saying "renounce all worldly objects". And if possessions and money and such are to be considered worthless, why are the streets of Heaven paved with Gold. A: that would make a lousy paving surface for a street and 2: who needs gold in Heaven. I was kind of hoping Heaven would be like an all-inclusive vacation: everything is paid for and you only have to have cash for like liquor.
The point of this is simply I like my stuff. I even admit to loving some of my stuff. I have some books I actually love. I have some signed copies of some Iain Banks that I really treasure. I have several first editions that are really cool. I also love my car and my guitars. I really love my guitars. I don't play that well but I do love those chunks of wood. I do not love my TV or my DVDs. They are cool but I don't love them. And as much as I treasure music, (it really is probably the biggest joy of my life), I don't love my compact discs. Maybe if I collected old vinyl LPs? They have a very romanticised culture around them but I don't go for that.
So, with my birth anniversary looming in the headlights I am embracing my materialistic side and saying "come on with the pressies". And I would also like to acknowledge the dates exactly one and two weeks prior to my birthday, the 3rd and 10th of May, which are the birthdays of two of the greatest ladies to ever grace the surface of this ball of mud. They are loved and missed dearly. Take care my dearies, until we meet again...
Thursday, April 12, 2012
Humane Bean
Spring has sprung, my Tender Lumplings, and so of course things are beginning to be crazy. Projects long planned and dreams long dreamed are once again brought out and dusted off and attempted. I say "attempted" because I know from past experience that they usually don't make it too much further than the "attempted" stage. But this time it will be different. Really. In fact several of the projects in progress have already gone further than I had expected. So it all may really happen this time. I'll keep you informed.
But what I really want to talk a little bit about are humans. More specifically the blatant stupidity and unsurpassed uselessness of them. If it weren't for needing a few of them around to do the nasty stuff I don't want to do, I could quite happily do without humans. And recently I have been reminded of this on many occasions. Yesterday, for example, every human I came in contact with was extra dumb. When you find yourself explaining the same very simple concept to someone over and over, both verbally and in writing, and they still cannot "get it", then something is very wrong. Let's not even go into the completely ridiculous questions they were asking me.
I hear you now. I know what you are saying. "But surely you must like someone? Not all people are so pointless?" You are right. And also wrong. I do like some people. Quite a lot of them really but I have a theory that they, like myself, are not human. We are something else, something more. Not the next step in human evolution, no I think humans have just about run their course. We are beyond human. We are a separate, though physically similar, species. It is the mental and emotional characteristics that set us apart mostly. We are smarter and more emotionally attune to ourselves and one another. We have a much better understanding of our place in the world and how we and it react to each other. Our common sense is vastly more developed than your garden variety human. And, if I may say so, we are more attractive as a whole than humans. (However I do admit that there are some humans that, though they may be dumber than a bag of hammers, are freaking gorgeous.)
I believe it may have something to do with the idea of the "old soul". Most religions believe that the "soul" or "life force" or whatever term they use, is eternal. It exists beyond our physical bodies. It is timeless and endless. In the Bhagavad Gita the Lord Krishna says "there has never been a time when I did not exist. And there will never be a time when I do not exist." Some cultures believe we are born over and over again in a process called Re-incarnation. Others, like Buddhist and Hindus think we are re-incarnated in hopes that after a while we will "get it right" and live a life so pure and selfless that we can earn or achieve peace and release from the cycle of rebirth.
Perhaps we, the special ones, are the "old souls". We have been around for a very long time and have lived these lives countless times and now we are learning. Perhaps this time around will be when we "get it right". We may all be close to our Nirvana. A time when we are free of suffering and will join completely in Brahman for good.
As for me personally, I don't think I'm quite there yet. I may need another trip or two on this mud ball. But I dearly hope you, my Tender Lumplings will have peace now and beyond.
But what I really want to talk a little bit about are humans. More specifically the blatant stupidity and unsurpassed uselessness of them. If it weren't for needing a few of them around to do the nasty stuff I don't want to do, I could quite happily do without humans. And recently I have been reminded of this on many occasions. Yesterday, for example, every human I came in contact with was extra dumb. When you find yourself explaining the same very simple concept to someone over and over, both verbally and in writing, and they still cannot "get it", then something is very wrong. Let's not even go into the completely ridiculous questions they were asking me.
I hear you now. I know what you are saying. "But surely you must like someone? Not all people are so pointless?" You are right. And also wrong. I do like some people. Quite a lot of them really but I have a theory that they, like myself, are not human. We are something else, something more. Not the next step in human evolution, no I think humans have just about run their course. We are beyond human. We are a separate, though physically similar, species. It is the mental and emotional characteristics that set us apart mostly. We are smarter and more emotionally attune to ourselves and one another. We have a much better understanding of our place in the world and how we and it react to each other. Our common sense is vastly more developed than your garden variety human. And, if I may say so, we are more attractive as a whole than humans. (However I do admit that there are some humans that, though they may be dumber than a bag of hammers, are freaking gorgeous.)
I believe it may have something to do with the idea of the "old soul". Most religions believe that the "soul" or "life force" or whatever term they use, is eternal. It exists beyond our physical bodies. It is timeless and endless. In the Bhagavad Gita the Lord Krishna says "there has never been a time when I did not exist. And there will never be a time when I do not exist." Some cultures believe we are born over and over again in a process called Re-incarnation. Others, like Buddhist and Hindus think we are re-incarnated in hopes that after a while we will "get it right" and live a life so pure and selfless that we can earn or achieve peace and release from the cycle of rebirth.
Perhaps we, the special ones, are the "old souls". We have been around for a very long time and have lived these lives countless times and now we are learning. Perhaps this time around will be when we "get it right". We may all be close to our Nirvana. A time when we are free of suffering and will join completely in Brahman for good.
As for me personally, I don't think I'm quite there yet. I may need another trip or two on this mud ball. But I dearly hope you, my Tender Lumplings will have peace now and beyond.
Thursday, March 22, 2012
I Have A Cunning Plan...
Well, my Tender Lumplings, I have to confess I am quite pleased with my amount of posting I've managed so far this year. My goal is to post as much as I can and hopefully match or surpass my best year which I believe is about 18 posts. But I have not and will not compromise my rule of only posting when I have something specific to talk about. This is one of the things that causes the long silences. I don't want this page to become just a outlet for meaningless meanderings. I can't just tell you about my day and what I had for lunch. That would be worse than boring. But it would make it much easier to post more often.
For example, I have several projects in the works right now that I would like to tell you all about. But I won't. That is not for this blog. This is not a journal or a diary. How sad and pointless would that be to write about such things. "Today I went to the store for some chocolate milk. But all they had was a jug of non-dairy chocolate drink. I didn't buy it." Of course I didn't buy it. Who the fuck would buy non-dairy chocolate drink? And why would I write about it? And why would you read about it?
This is not to say that things that happen in my daily trip on this spinning ball of mud don't influence what I discuss here. Of course it would work that way. Like when I have one of those crazy dreams or that whole poison ivy debacle a few years back. But I didn't just relate an account of the happening. These events spark questions that feed ideas that turn into ponderings that I share with you, my dearies. And I hope you gain a little something from them. I hope they make you think and question. I want you to have your own spark and maybe even nurture it into a flame of inquisition that consumes you and all around you until knowledge and truth and a greater understanding of the universe and all of us and everything is drawn out into the light of that conflagration so that we can all see it and learn and live free from worry and hypocrisy.
And that, my Tender Lumplings, is one of the longest sentences I ever wrote.
As you may have guess, when I began to compose this post I had no clear idea of what I wanted to talk about. I usually always have at least some idea before I start and it is waiting for those ideas that cause me to not post for long periods. Starting a post without a clue as to its topic is something I avoided on purpose until today. This was an experiment to see what would happen. Now we know. I think I need to go back to making sure I have an idea first. Or else I, your humble Narrator, will have to change my name to the Rambling Random Babbler. Until next time.
For example, I have several projects in the works right now that I would like to tell you all about. But I won't. That is not for this blog. This is not a journal or a diary. How sad and pointless would that be to write about such things. "Today I went to the store for some chocolate milk. But all they had was a jug of non-dairy chocolate drink. I didn't buy it." Of course I didn't buy it. Who the fuck would buy non-dairy chocolate drink? And why would I write about it? And why would you read about it?
This is not to say that things that happen in my daily trip on this spinning ball of mud don't influence what I discuss here. Of course it would work that way. Like when I have one of those crazy dreams or that whole poison ivy debacle a few years back. But I didn't just relate an account of the happening. These events spark questions that feed ideas that turn into ponderings that I share with you, my dearies. And I hope you gain a little something from them. I hope they make you think and question. I want you to have your own spark and maybe even nurture it into a flame of inquisition that consumes you and all around you until knowledge and truth and a greater understanding of the universe and all of us and everything is drawn out into the light of that conflagration so that we can all see it and learn and live free from worry and hypocrisy.
And that, my Tender Lumplings, is one of the longest sentences I ever wrote.
As you may have guess, when I began to compose this post I had no clear idea of what I wanted to talk about. I usually always have at least some idea before I start and it is waiting for those ideas that cause me to not post for long periods. Starting a post without a clue as to its topic is something I avoided on purpose until today. This was an experiment to see what would happen. Now we know. I think I need to go back to making sure I have an idea first. Or else I, your humble Narrator, will have to change my name to the Rambling Random Babbler. Until next time.
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
Who the hell is Niblik?
Your humble Narrator is perplexed my Tender Lumplings. I have been presented with some information that has me ponder many things. You see, this blog provides me with some data on how many times people view my posts and where those people are. Most of the page views have been from the US and Canada. But then I have 23 views from Russia. Ok, that is odd. And then a few from Japan. Ok, that's cool. But then it gets strange. I have a single view from Latvia and India. I haven't a clue where Latvia is. And a view from, get this, Nepal. What? Really? I can just picture a little Sherpa guy up to his nether region in snow, guiding some white dudes up the Himalayas and stopping to check out what I have to say on his laptop.
I know that is probably not what happened. It was probably just somebody who came by my ramblings quite by accident. That is how I explain all the single views I have had \from various countries. The 23 views from Russia are a little more puzzling. That is a big place so it isn't inconceivable to think 23 people have accidentally ended up on my site. But what if it isn't that? Could there be somebody over there who has actually stopped by my blog repeatedly? That would be cool.
So, this is what I'm gonna do. I would like to appeal to my international readers, if they indeed exist, to leave a comment the next time to stop by. Just say hi. And to my friends whom I know read this, you do not have to leave any comments. I get enough of you people's comments in person.
Anywho, it is fun to think I've gone international. I'm taking my message to the streets all over the world. I'm gonna let the people know the truth. I'm gonna bring the people what they need. Then we will rise up and... on second thought, nah. Revolution is too much work. Let's just veg out in front of the TV. Until next time my dear ones.
I know that is probably not what happened. It was probably just somebody who came by my ramblings quite by accident. That is how I explain all the single views I have had \from various countries. The 23 views from Russia are a little more puzzling. That is a big place so it isn't inconceivable to think 23 people have accidentally ended up on my site. But what if it isn't that? Could there be somebody over there who has actually stopped by my blog repeatedly? That would be cool.
So, this is what I'm gonna do. I would like to appeal to my international readers, if they indeed exist, to leave a comment the next time to stop by. Just say hi. And to my friends whom I know read this, you do not have to leave any comments. I get enough of you people's comments in person.
Anywho, it is fun to think I've gone international. I'm taking my message to the streets all over the world. I'm gonna let the people know the truth. I'm gonna bring the people what they need. Then we will rise up and... on second thought, nah. Revolution is too much work. Let's just veg out in front of the TV. Until next time my dear ones.
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Take a flying Leap Day!
It seems my Tender Lumplings that another Leap Year has arrived and today, Leap Day, is what the fuss is all about. So once every four years we get to have a February 29. As if February wasn't a screwed up month already. It usually only has 28 days while all other months have at least 30. It is stuck in winter, in this hemisphere, and starts off with a holiday that nearly always predicts more winter. I think they stuck Valentine's Day in February just so the month wouldn't be a complete waste.
All of this fuss over Leap Year is due to one simple fact: the measuring of the passage of time is not an exact science. The search for an accurate time measurement system has been going on since time began, or since time began to be noticed. Early man realized the passage of time and has been trying to measure it ever since. Animals don't care about time and neither did the first vaguely humanoid things that fell out of the trees. After he stood upright and looked up at the sky he noticed something. The first most obvious clue was the rising and setting of the sun. Then there was the way the moon and stars didn't appear in the sky in the same place or for the same amount of time each night. Of course all this was first attributed to the Gods and their whims. But then patterns began to emerge and someone started taking notes.
Calenders began to appear pretty early on. And through history there have been countless versions. Lunar calendars and Lunisolar, Sidereal, forced synchronization called "intercalation". There are Julian, Gregorian, Hebrew, Iranian, Islamic calenders. And they are all different some how. Some differ by thousands of years. The comic Jackie Mason noted how the Hebrew calendar dated back nearly a thousand years further than the Chinese one. Which made him ask the question: "How did the Jews survive a thousand years with out Chinese takeout?"
It is fairly widely recognized that some of these other old calendars are more accurate than today's. Most of the world has now settled on using one calender, a modified Gregorian based system. They figured out how many days each month should have and decided a year was 365 (ish) days. And so we have to add one day every four years to make up for the math. Leap Day. Today.
What does all this really mean. Simple, once every four years we have to wait and extra day to get to Christmas. Leap Year sucks.
All of this fuss over Leap Year is due to one simple fact: the measuring of the passage of time is not an exact science. The search for an accurate time measurement system has been going on since time began, or since time began to be noticed. Early man realized the passage of time and has been trying to measure it ever since. Animals don't care about time and neither did the first vaguely humanoid things that fell out of the trees. After he stood upright and looked up at the sky he noticed something. The first most obvious clue was the rising and setting of the sun. Then there was the way the moon and stars didn't appear in the sky in the same place or for the same amount of time each night. Of course all this was first attributed to the Gods and their whims. But then patterns began to emerge and someone started taking notes.
Calenders began to appear pretty early on. And through history there have been countless versions. Lunar calendars and Lunisolar, Sidereal, forced synchronization called "intercalation". There are Julian, Gregorian, Hebrew, Iranian, Islamic calenders. And they are all different some how. Some differ by thousands of years. The comic Jackie Mason noted how the Hebrew calendar dated back nearly a thousand years further than the Chinese one. Which made him ask the question: "How did the Jews survive a thousand years with out Chinese takeout?"
It is fairly widely recognized that some of these other old calendars are more accurate than today's. Most of the world has now settled on using one calender, a modified Gregorian based system. They figured out how many days each month should have and decided a year was 365 (ish) days. And so we have to add one day every four years to make up for the math. Leap Day. Today.
What does all this really mean. Simple, once every four years we have to wait and extra day to get to Christmas. Leap Year sucks.
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