Glitterati

The Tree of Knowledge has sprouted and is flourishing quite well now.

Knowledge, facts, and information without the proper parallel of growth in morality leads to Chaos. Chaos is a trendy city where all one's desires can be fulfilled. A place where the void in one's soul can be saturated with things. Things that make you feel good, and medicated, and ease the mind. For when one's mind is ill at ease, what better to medicate it with than pleasure?

But soon the mind craves more sugar and sweets, and honey after awhile loses it's effect. So more things arrive in tan new packages, and are applied differently, and these dull the senses to bearable levels. But alas! Reality rears it's ugly head (once again) so, what does one do now?

Change Reality.

Or pay people to change reality for us. At least until the sun sets and night arrives with it's comforting shadows that veil those mean nasty Principles.

Ahh. . .the Night. Everybody loves the Knight and the masks. For who can stand the sight of old rotting bodies. Nobody really. But with knowledge comes botox to make us smile again. Of course, now we cannot stop smiling as our faces are set in permanent grins.

Are they grins though? Or are they leers?

Haunting leers of cadaverous jokers wandering the dark streets of plenty in the metropolis of Chaos. . .but happy because they've never met Joy. Is not happiness Joy?

Perhaps we should ask Wiki and the Televiserati. They know. They know everything.

Sign of the Times

Something I saw the other day.

Heircuts: $12

I promised to keep it in mind next time somebody asks me a good place to get the little prince circumcised.

Wonton Mechanics

This is the science of eating Chinese food and popcorn with chopsticks. . .in case you're interested.

I have not blogged in a week because I'm working nearly 70 hours/week and am working on a book project involving obsequious bourgeois proletarians, fast-food, tv, human evolution, and unidentified soaring objects. I can assure you I am eating healthy, getting plenty of rest, and spending more money at Exxon than is right.

to be continued. . .

The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly

There are good things in Life. There are bad things in Life. But rest assured,

Life Is For Everyone.

The Atkin's Diet: A bad thing in life. This is the diet where one eats meat, meat-like substances (Spam), cheese, pork rinds, grease, lard, and bacon.

All bad things.

After a few months your large intestines resemble an off-shore oil derrick and turns into a greasy slip-N-slide, which explains why you're always running to the porcelain goddess to make obeisance, thus committing idolatry-the most heinous of sins.

I tell people the Atkin's Diet is unhealthy, but for some reason they don't listen to me.

Does this make me a mean person? What can I say?

I step on kittens, turn right on red without signalling, drive an SUV, and voted for Bush in the last 2 elections.

A good thing in Life is hugging, though this seems to be somewhat a problem for men.

Some guys just can't do it-like two grizzly bears-they mosey on close to one another, snuffle around a bit. . .usually there's some coughing involved. . .then the creatures make contact for exactly 2 seconds (I timed them) and break.

Now. Observe.

When men hug, they imperceptibly tap one another on the back 3 times.

For all you female readers out there, this is man-speak. Translated-this means-this tapping.

Count em' 1. . .2. . .3. . .means. . .

I'm. Not. Gay.

Break.

Low Gas

Sometimes not passing gas is bad.

Today, the technician refilled the heat pump with freon, and that is cool with me.


When it is 3 AM, and you've drunk more coffee that is good for you, and have a mysterious compulsion to read St. Augustine's City of God, or the Book of Enoch, or Flavius Josephus' Antiquities of the Jews.

Click here.

The Food of the Gods

(Note: not my actual backyard)

At 8 AM, the squirrels wake up and crawl along the tree limbs. Slowly, they make their way down the big Oak in my backyard-looking for cats, dogs, foxes, lawnmowers, and other dark creatures. . .and walnuts.

At 815 AM, they arrive at the base of the tree, face down, and slightly woozy. They look to the right, the left, the right again, left once more, and then after looking to the right yet again, carefully make their way into the grass in their daily pilgrimage for food.

The squirrels always keep an eye out for the mysterious two-legged god of the white building, who (rumor has it) is responsible for the strange salty hard objects on the concrete altar beside the black nylon throne.

The squirrels have no name for the salty objects. The great white god produces it from a metal can with a tuxedo-wearing peanut-a great mystery-but it tastes better than anything else.

If it only didn't make them so thirsty.