Ormuz D.

Bahnbrecher

CONTENTS

July 2007 ........................................................................ 1 August 2007 ................................................................. 33 September 2007 ........................................................... 65

JULY 2007

J U LY 1

While pondering the idea of the Noble Lie, the term No-Bull Truth popped to mind. Just to be sure I hadnt accidentally concocted a neologism, I Googled No-Bull Truth to see how many results I would get. With or without the hyphen, I got only 308 results. One of the results was from Padre G, who started his September 12, 2003, entry with The first no bull truth is nothing is ever what you think it is. For what it may be worth, Google found 47,500 results for Noble Lie. Thats probably a good measure of the Truth/Lie ratio today.

J U LY 2

Strictly speaking, Padre G is right to say nothing is ever what you think it is. Quantum physicists tell us what we see is never real because our observation of it changes it. At the sub-atomic level, they say, we know with certainty that we cannot know certain things at all. On the other hand, at least one thing is always what you think it is: Noble Lies, Nasty Lies, and Not-onpurpose Lies are, as Nietzsche said, a condition of life. Thats one No-Bull Truth we all know. Another is that we cant even believe our own senses. So what?

J U LY 3

We know we cant know everything. Those who believe in an omniscient (and therefore omnipotent) deity would say only God knows everything. But we obviously dont need to know everything. One wag said, All we ever need to know is what to do next. Another said, All we ever need to know is what we want. As a general rule, we need to know more than that, but we dont need to know everything. By definition, all we need is adequate knowledge and adequate certainty. So the question is how much do we need to know. Is enough ever enough?

J U LY 4

This morning I thought In Depends Day might be an original concoction on my part. But, no surprise, Google found 100 results. So its not new, but its sometimes nice to know we are not alone in our creativity. Being unique is, after all, quite similar to being alone and isolated. Many patriotic citizens of The United States of God Bless America will celebrate The Birth of a Nation. Few will mention the 1915 film because today is like Xmas, a day on which even curmudgeons should probably keep their cynicism to themselves. But too much shit has happened. Merde!

J U LY 5

Paul Harvey, the wannabe heir to Will Rogers, said In times like these, it helps to recall that there have always been times like these. To which we are supposed to respond with something like, Ah, how true. Harveys dictum is Bible-Belt for Plus a change, plus c'est la mme chose. Or just plain Bible for there is nothing new under the sun, with the implication that in much wisdom is much vexation and those who increase knowledge increase sorrow. Truth be told, there have never been times like these. recalled as the Good Old Days. These aint gonna be

J U LY 6

Near the end of his life, Kurt Vonnegut made a speech at Albion College. At one point he said roughly, Tonight, write a six-line poem, rhymed, no fair tennis without a net. Make it as good as you possibly can, for you, dont tell anyone, dont show it to anybody. Tear it up, scatter the pieces in widely separated trash receptacles. And youll find out you have been rewarded big time. I cant say I did as he suggested (of course), but I can say this: most so-called poets cant play tennis with a net. Kurts up in heaven now.

J U LY 7

Forster asked, How can I know what I think till I see what I say? Talk about a rhetorical question! The case can be made that theres no way to know what one thinks except to see what one says, but, as they say, talk is cheap. As a practical matter, the only way to know what one thinks is to see what one writes, and only when one writes with what should be called the threat (not hope) that somebody, especially some stranger, might read it. The corollary is that not writing with that As If is not thinking.

J U LY 8

Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr. said, Why can't somebody give us a list of things that everybody thinks and nobody says, and another list of things that everybody says and nobody thinks. He apparently didnt even bother to punctuate that statement with a question mark. He was merely saying something that everybody thinks and nobody (else) says. The reason nobody has given us such lists would seem to be that doing so would take too long. But both potential lists get shorter with each passing day or so, especially the first one. Soon nobody will say anything except what everybody thinks.

J U LY 9

One of the adventitious benefits of writing doggerel (which is what my poet friend calls any poetry that rhymes) is that the discipline of finding words that sound like other words can sometimes expand ones vocabulary. For instance, suppose you want to find a euphonic counterpart for the term wishful thinking. You might stumble across the word blink and discover one of its meanings, albeit rather obscure, is to refuse to recognize or face. And, voila! Wishful thinking leads to or produces Willful blinking. But, come to think of it, willful blinking is more often the cause than the effect.

10

J U LY 1 0

About forty years ago, long before having a mentor was cool, I had one. He once told me, way back then, that all books should be written in 800-word sections because, according to him, the first books we read as children are almost always of that length. The creator(s) of this site might consider offering an exactly 800-word option here. Blaise Pascal apologized for the length of his 16th Provincial letter because he didnt have time to make it shorter. And he would surely say writing 100 words takes longer than writing 800 words. Hard to believe? Try it sometime.

11

J U LY 1 1

John Steinbeck said, In writing, your audience is one single reader. I have found that sometimes it helps to pick out one persona real person you know, or an imagined personand write to that one. Picking a real person you know works great, until you use them up, after which you will become Spam. Thats the time to create a reader, the same way one might create a character in a novel. I write to a fellow I named Noah Montgomery Vale. He lives in the made-up town of Vane, Oregon. His best quality is his short memory.

12

J U LY 1 2

Atman.

In Buddhism, it means self, but it is

sometimes translated as soul or ego. Belief in Atman is, they say, the primary result of ignorance and the cause of all misery. It is the essence of Samsara, the cycle of birth, decay, and death. Yada, damn yada. Buddhists, they say, need to understand Atman. All of which is a kind of Budd-Shit for anyone who has spent, say, twelve years with a German Shepherd dog named Atman. For what it may be worth, Atman, also known as Wolf, was born on the date Vonnegut died, and passed on today.

13

J U LY 1 3

Some famous writer (whose name I cant recall) wrote that somebody had advised, When you sit down to write, dont think about what to write, write what you have been thinking about. The problem with that advice is that most of us write in order to think about something else, something other than what we have been thinking about. For instance, Ive been thinking how glad I am that nobody knows what I have been thinking about, in the so-called privacy of my own mind. But, as they say, Use it, or lose it. All work and no play

14

J U LY 1 4

Le quatorze Juillet. Le jour de gloire est arriv. Most days the pendulum swings to and fro between Schmerz and Langeweile, but today it swings between Douleur and Ennui (smiley face winking). Uncle Alex used to say, If this isnt nice, I dont know what is. And his nephew used to say, We are here on Earth to fart around. Dont let anybody tell you any different. Mohatma Mahoney still says, If youre not in pain, you cant complain. Nobody believes the Mohatma either. Maybe in France, but not here. Nothing is more un-American than a satisfied customer, nest-ce pas?

15

J U LY 1 5

She asked, Does this dress make me look fat? I was pretty sure she didnt want the truth. She had not wanted the truth for a long time, especially not my version of it. So, sure, I knew better. But sometimes what we want is to feel better instead. Thats what she wanted at the time. She wanted me to tell one of themthere little white fibs. I, however, wanted to discuss the pros and cons of Noble Lies. That would have made me feel better. In the end I compromised and simply said, Yes, honey, its an honest dress.

16

J U LY 1 6

E. H. White once wrote: I awake in the morning, torn between a desire to save the world, and a desire to savor the world. That makes it hard to plan the day. We may infer that it was a recurring problem. The term paralysis by analysis pops to mind. Sometimes the opportunity cost of decision analysis exceeds the benefits. One thing leads to another, but one thing usually leads to more than one other thing, often leading to what are called wicked problems. Savior it. No analysis, no paralysis. The solution locally is simple: to save the wicked world,

17

J U LY 1 7

One of the vacations offered by Rekall Inc. is called Hubby-Daddy Halcyon. Its not nearly as exciting as Blue Skies on Mars, but there was a time when it was quite popular. The scenario is roughly the same as Father Knows Best, but, come to find out, HubbyDaddy Halcyon has a surprise ending. For what seems to be thirty years, you are married to Lori, you raise two children, then she goes nuts and suddenly dumps you. At which time you meet Melina, who tells you your real name is Schopenhauser, and you wake up. Cool, but not for everybody.

18

J U LY 1 8

Mighty Casey struck out.

Somewhere men were

laughing, children were shouting, and a band was playing, but there was no joy in Mudville. Really? No joy in Mudville? We know better. There were several people who were delighted with the outcome. At least nine. And anyone who has ever been a pitcher can tell you there was one who was about as happy as a hurler can be. Eventually Caseys failure led to what we now know as the Mudville Maxim, which states: One mans whiff is another mans whoop. (Casey retired after the game, and therefore became a philanthropist.)

19

J U LY 1 9

Sean says, I dont know a lot, Will. But let me tell you one thing. All this history, this shit Look here, son. This is not your fault. Will, nonchalant, says, Oh, I know. Sean says, Its not your fault. Will, smiling, says, I know. Sean says, Its not your fault. Will says, I know. Sean says, Its not your fault. Will, dead serious, says, I know. Sean says, Its not your fault. Will says, Dont fuck with me. Sean says, Its not your fault. Will says, I know. That can make you want to be a better man.

20

J U LY 2 0

Don was born in Tacoma, white, with all his parts in good working order, to parents who were above average in social rank, got the best education money could buy, etc. Now look: he has been a colossal underachiever. There he is driving a fork-truck in a warehouse in Oregon. Uhuru was born in Zimbabwe, black, with several parts that didnt work, so her parents left her on the side of a road. She survived, learned some English, stowed away, etc. Now look: she has been a colossal overachiever. There she is driving a fork-truck in a warehouse in Oregon.

21

J U LY 2 1

We begin to chat, sorta chatting each other up, but it is clear this is not one of those resume-submission episodes. For some mystical reason, we start to exchange the stories of our lives, mostly memories, hardly anything about the future. She talks about her childhood, back in Michigan, about what fun it was to build a snowman. She remembers all sorts of things in amazing detail. I mention I dont recall much at all of my childhood, that I envy her in that regard. Times up. She says her name is Rachael, but she doesnt remember her last name.

22

J U LY 2 2

Old joke: When asked Whats the difference between ignorance and indifference? he said, I dont know, and I dont care. We often hear ignorance is bliss, but rarely bliss is ignorance. Is indifference bliss? I dont know. Indifference, a.k.a. apathy, is more like wisdom. Most sages have said or implied: dont concern yourself with things over which you have no control. The stoic is serene, but hardly enthusiastic. Aggressive apathy is oxymoronic. Those who know dont speak; those who speak dont know. Everybody knows that. Indifference is ignorance, but ignoring reality is tough. Its, like, everywhere, all the time. Relentless.

23

J U LY 2 3

One of the great moments in movie history came when the Emperor said, My dear young man, dont take it too hard. Your work is ingenious. Its quality work. There are simply too many notes, thats all. Just cut a few, and it will be perfect. To which Mozart replied, Which few did you have in mind, Majesty? The problem with the world is that there are too many Mozarts, and too many writers like Peter Shaffer. Just about the time we are ready to give up on humankind, along comes another glaring exception to the rule. Lifes a tease.

24

J U LY 2 4

Mohatma Mahoney says, When people lie to you, they hate you for it. This was his impromptu exegesis on something Honest Abe Lincoln said, No man (or woman) has a good enough memory to be a successful liar. For example, when Jill lies to Jack, especially when she lies to him about several things, she is required to keep track of what she has told him in order to avoid the potential embarrassment of being caught. Gradually over time, it becomes too much trouble. The Mohatmas advice to Jack: Dont make Jill lie to you in the first place. Duh.

25

J U LY 2 5

The epigraph of a book I read had two famous quotes: Les gens les plus valables dans nos vies sont ceux qui nous font rire et nous disent la vrit. Blaise Pascal (1623 1662) Les gens les plus valables dans nos vies sont ceux qui rient nos plaisanteries et qui nous disons la vrit. Voltaire (1694 1778) Translated: The most valuable people in our lives are those who make us laugh and tell us the truth. The most valuable people in our lives are those who laugh at our jokes and to whom we tell the truth. Funny.

26

J U LY 2 6

The difference between a Stoic and a Lama: the Lama celebrates what the Stoic tolerates. One of things the Stoic must put up with is the Lamas unflappable optimism. When the Stoic finds a pile of crap on the hood of his car, the Lama smiles, thinking about how the pony managed to do it. A little-known fact about the typical statues of the Buddha: he is not wearing a hat, nor is that stuff on his head some sort of monkish coif. Avian excrement. Tolerate or celebrate it. Several days meditating under a tree resulted in a shit-eatin grin.

27

J U LY 2 7

Somebody in the audience asked Professor Corey, the worlds leading authority (period), Why are you here? Corey replied, A good question, but a two-part question. He answered the first part, at length, by saying things like, For thousands of years, great thinkers have been asking Why, Why, Why? your question, Am I here? Yes. Next question. He might have regarded it as a two-pronged question by considering the two meanings of here (on Earth, on this patch of Earth). A good question, because there is no authoritative answer. Period. After which he abruptly concluded: As for the second part of

28

J U LY 2 8

Sometimes a thing is so obvious, we say Its as plain as the nose on your face. But, upon reflection, its obvious that the nose on ones own face cannot be seen without a mirror. Likewise, when we say, I know it like the back of my hand, the implication is we know it very well. But its as plain as the noses on our faces that few of us could ever pick out our own hands in a lineup. One thing we know for sure: its tough to trust important, personal truth without the mirror of a second opinion.

29

J U LY 2 9

Called Jack and, of course, had to leave a message. I left I need your help. Then added, Its not urgent." The next day he returned my call. After I explained what I needed, he told me he would get right on it. But, alas, his wife was signaling him to get off the phone. A disadvantage of living alone is that you cant signal to anyone to signal to you that you need to get off the phone. A spouse can be a real time-saver. Hell get back to me, but it takes time to formulate a credible Sorry.

30

J U LY 3 0

According to one theory of the Psychology of Creativity, some of the better work people do is done because, at the time they begin, they have nothing better to do. But, as a rule, their very best work comes when they have nothing else to do. The problem is theres always something else to do, and usually something better. Hans Metterling suggests that something better is, as he put it, the self-inflicted illusion of the terminally imaginative. His much-debated culling cure requires the patient to accept the fact that he or she has only one life-sustaining idea at a time.

31

J U LY 3 1

berdummheit is not yet in the dictionary. (Note to lexicographers: the first should be umlauted.) Its principal meaning: a mysterious force in the universe which drives otherwise rational people to fuck over others even though, and only when, the one doing the screwing has no self-interest in so doing. berdummheit is obvious when Jack says to Jill, I dont know why Im doing this to you, of all people, and hes not kidding. Hes as confused as she is. Jills life is thoroughly disrupted. The mystical explanation: she was ineffectively comfortable, needed a change. A.k.a. Capricious (cosmic) tough love.

32

AUGUST 2007

AU GU S T 1

Chapter 1. Agathon was losing his mind in much the same way that many men lose their hair. Slowly but surely. From day to day the change was imperceptible, but his old friend Monk noticed. Monk had not seen Agathon for nearly twenty years, but they had kept in touch. Birthdays and Christmas mostly. During the Happy Sixty-Fourth call, Monk actually asked, Are you okay? What Agathon wanted to say was Im losing my grip on reality, but reality is also losing its grip on me. As if by mutual consent. Instead he said, Im great, how are you doing?

34

AU GU ST 2

Knowledge is power.

Everybody knows that.

But

another thing everybody knows is power corrupts. The syllogistic conclusion would be ergo (drum roll please): knowledge corrupts. But everybody knows that cant be true. There must be some fallacy in the logic. Surely some knowledge does not lead to the kind of power that corrupts. But, when you think about it, the more you know, the less likely you are to be entertained. To some extent, ignorance is bliss. The last thing we want is for some smart-ass to tell us the surprise ending. Those who care dont speak, and vice versa.

35

AU GU S T 3

Another memorable (mostly to men), metaphysical moment in movie history: Bond looks from Goldfinger to a spot between his legs. The laser beam keeps cutting upwards toward his crotch. Bond says, Do you expect me to talk? Goldfinger says, No, Mr. Bond! I expect you to die! When youre flat on your back, time is like the finger of God. Those who have old-fashioned clocks can hear the tick and the tock cutting more than counting. Sometimes, in spite of our knowing better, we ask, Do you expect me to write? And sometimes, in our imagination, we hear God-Fingers reply.

36

AU GU ST 4

Suppose the data is two and three. If ones purpose is to multiply, the correct response to the data is six. But if ones purpose is to add, the correct response is five. Same data, different responses, and both are correct. Suppose the data is two and two. The multiplier and the adder both respond with four. Same data, same responses, and both are correct. But if the one who is responding to the data is an accountant, the correct response is How much do you want it to be? The data is out there, but the answer is within.

37

AU GU S T 5

The law, in its majestic equality, forbids the rich as well as the poor to sleep under bridges, to beg in the streets, and to steal bread. The copyright law forbids one and all to steal ideas. But, when a thing has been said and well said, have no scruple; take it and copy it. Give references? Why should you? Either your readers know where you have taken the passage and the precaution is needless, or they do not know and you humiliate them, assuming you dont try to sell what you have plagiarized. Besides, giving references is showing off.

38

AU GU ST 6

The hottest places in Hell are reserved for those who remain neutral in time of great moral crisis may have motivated a few people during the Renaissance, but if Dante were here today hed use the devolved vernacular: Get off your ass and do something. Same idea. We are constantly told we should be ashamed to be content to cruise through life in a well-appointed handbasket. But, when we muster the gumption to do something about the moral crisis, we are directed to a website: $19.95 plus S/H brings the important DVD we can view while seated on the couch.

39

AU GU S T 7

From time to time, all men (and women) stumble across Winston Churchills claim that From time to time, all men stumble across the truth, but most pick themselves up and hurry off as if nothing happened. After stumbling across his observation, most pick themselves up and hurry off as if nothing happened. For perfectly good reasons. Whatever the truth happens to be, it is almost always the sort of thing about which one says It cant be true. In the same way so many good things are too good to be true, the truth is usually too obvious, therefore unacceptable.

40

AU GU ST 8

Decisions. Decisions. According to Mohatma Mahoney, You dont really decide what to do. What you decide is how you will explain why you did what youre gonna do. In other words, the so-called decision comes first, after which the reasoning ensues. A tough decision is tough only because its hard to justify. The trick is not to find good, sound reasons, but rather to find reasons that sound good. Its like what the late Richard Rorty said about truth: (Its) what ones peers will let one get away with (saying). But, more often than not, youve just gotta say WTF.

41

AU GU S T 9

In this inherently uncertain universe, one thing we know for sure: we cant know what would have happened, or even if anything else could have happened. Were pretty sure nobody can predict the future because anythings possible, but were quite sure nobody can predict the past that would have occurred if we had made different choices, assuming we could have made different choices. A choice seems to have been good or bad depending on the result. In retrospect. Trouble is, good results could have been better, and bad results could have been worse. We cant know the path not taken.

42

AU GU ST 10

The First No-Bull Truth: Human beings do not have a rational self-interest in the Far Future of Humankind. Plenty of people have a perfectly rational self-interest in talking about it, but usually thats camouflage for an immediate self-interest. Many people have an irrational self-interest in the Far Future, but eternal judgment or reincarnation are not rational concepts. Some people, however, have a rational self-interest in fucking the Future. They view life the way many men regard a urinal at a rest-stop; if nobodys looking and you wont be using the stall again, why bother? They piss on posterity for profit.

43

AU GU S T 11

Tiger brought his woods, irons, and putter(s) to the city where life has consigned me. My apartment is closer to Bushwood than many spots where people pay to park, but Im not even tempted. Never mind the triple-digit temperatures and triple-digit tickets. I just dont care to watch millionaires compete for more money than Carl Spackler ever dreamed of. I admit, however, I cant Updates of the resist the local news coverage.

leaderboard are followed by updates of the number of rich white folks who were hauled away for heat-related problems. Ive got that going for me, which is nice.

44

AU GU ST 12

In The World as Will and Testament we are reminded of those Think and Do workbooks that were once (still?) part of the elementary curriculum. The title Think and Do can be regarded as an imperative, roughly equivalent to Look before you leap. But thats backwards. A better, more propaedeutic, title would be Do and Think. But Just do it has long since replaced First live, then philosophize. For many people the three Rs are: Rearing, Realization, and Retirement. When rearing is religious, realization is retarded, and retirement is resignation. The undisclosed subtitle of most memoirs is Silk Purse. (Smiley-face).

45

AU GU S T 13

Winter dreams of Spring, And Summer dreads the Fall. Hope is cold, and Fear is hot. Things change, people change, Too quickly, too slowly, Too little, too late, Too much, too soon. We wait. But the wait is heavy. Gratification is always delayed. Theres no way to schedule it, No way to postpone it, No way to hasten it. No way. Here it comes, Here it is, and, whoops, There it went. It wasnt good enough to hope for, It wasnt bad enough to fear. It was lukewarm in April, And it will be lukecool in October. Back in line.

46

AU GU ST 14

Another Tuesday afternoon, but Im not just beginning to see, nor am I hearing gentle voices explaining it all with a sigh. I must admit, however, that something is calling to me. Ill probably compose another one of those White Satin emails. Sometimes it helps to write down what you would say if you didnt know better than to bore the crap out of the recipient. Todays letter (never meaning to send) could be an exegesis on something Kalidasa said: People are sometimes bugged, but bugs are never peopled. What bugs most people most of the time is other people.

47

AU GU S T 15

You cant always get what you want, of course, but the problem is that you cant always want what you get. Granted, if you try, sometimes, you might find you get what you need. The sobering thought is that you might always get what you need, in which case the trick is to figure out why you needed whatever you got. In my case, what I apparently needed was somebody who was practiced at the art of deception. And my guess is thats what everybody wants and needs: credible prevarications, competent prevaricators. Thats why we go to the Chelsea drugstore.

48

AU GU ST 16

Been here, done this, and my Zeno tee-shirt is tattered. Im not in pain, so I cant complain. But if there werent so much no-doubt-about-it physical pain in this world, Id have a higher standard for what is personally acceptable. Mohatma Mahoney said, long before it became common knowledge, Anger is self-pity. Feeling sorry for oneself is embarrassing, beneath ones dignity, and thoroughly unbecoming of a grownup. Yada, yada. Truth be told (accepted), youve gotta be a sucker not to think life sucks if, when pissed on, youre not pissed off. Mad as hell, Im not gonna fake it anymore.

49

AU GU S T 17

Another one of those days. Bewitched, bothered, and bewildered. discombobulated. Disconcerted, discomfited, and An ongoing, self-inflicted, tedious A hundred visions,

argument of insidious intent.

revisions, and indecisions come and go like those women who talked of Michelangelo. The overwhelming question is what, not how, should I presume. Wondering what to do with the rest of ones life is okay, but not day after day. Its only a matter of time before you run out of coffee spoons and afternoons. Anticipating a soft October night is hard during the dog days of summer. Its a Sirius dilemma. Thus spake J. Alfred.

50

AU GU ST 18

If I had known then what I know now, I would probably not be sitting here thinking about what I know now but didnt know then. But if I had not known then what I knew at the time, I would probably not be sitting here thinking. The way I figure it, the problem is that, in spite of knowing better, we cant help but act prefiguratively, as if what we know now will not change much in the foreseeable future. In the meantime, between any then and every now, we live and learn: we usually have no freaking clue.

51

AU GU S T 19

Robert Recorde, a Welsh mathematician, invented the equal sign in 1557. It makes one wonder how 2 + 2 = 4 was expressed before his contribution, but, regardless, the issue here is the symbolic value of his symbol. This morning, for some reason, it struck me that the equal sign is like a fence, at least in the sense of a separator. The following equation popped to mind: Blue + Yellow = Green When the other side of the fence seems green, the viewer is probably both blue and yellow. Theres no fence when youre happy and brave. dauntlessly. Grinning

52

AU GU ST 20

If your medium of communication is smoke signals, its tough to convey ones thinking about the Copernican Revolution. They say anythings possible, but theres surely no way to discuss the difference between the geocentric and heliocentric worldviews by waving a blanket over a fire. (No offense to my Comanche and Chinese friends.) Much the same is true of any attempt to express a thought in a readbite. Some things cannot be done quickly, just as some things cannot be done slowly. The trick is to plant ideas that linger, perchance to gestate. A puff is enough. No need to huff.

53

AU GU S T 21

Those who would impact others by state-of-the-lingo wordsmithing seem to be particularly fond of verbified, gerundized, and adjectified nouns. Objections to such fonding can be dismissed as Thistlebottoming. (Bertha Thistlebottoms is an English teacher, terminally hobgoblined, constantly big-dealing grammatical mole hills.) Aurelius learned from Alexander the Grammarian never to chide those who utter solecistic expressions, but rather dexterously to introduce the correct expression. This is the sort of English up with which I will not put is Thistlebottomly as all get out, but, just between you and I, the master wordsmiths are those whose correctness goes undetected. Grammar up, cowpersons.

54

AU GU ST 22

The last thing we discover is that theres nothing else to discover. Strictly speaking, theres no end to what can be discovered by telescope or microscope. But there are discoveries, and then there are Discoveries! Searchers become addicted to searching. No matter how many black crows are found, the white crow could still be out there. Absence is not evidence. But bird got to land, and Bokonon got to tell himself he understand. The marble wastes, the statue grows, and eventually the chiseling should cease. We each get only one stone. Dave or Davina must be released from the rock.

55

AU GU S T 23

Mohatma Mahoneys Scatological Imperative is Fuck it. Do it anyway. Etymologically speaking, its not scatological. But who gives a shit about etymological precision? (Note: scatological and eschatological are sometimes confused, but any such confusion is hardly the end of the world.) The Mohatmas point is that the antecedent of the first it is whatever stands in the way of the antecedent of the second, both of which antecedents are unstated but fairly obvious. The key term is anyway, not to be confused with any which way. The best stuff is done regardless. In spite of common sense. Almost always never-the-less.

56

AU GU ST 24

Jorge Luis Borges: It is a laborious madness ... (composing vast books) setting out in five hundred pages an idea that can be perfectly related orally in five minutes. on them. In one such book, The Ninety-Day Novel, the author said the first draft should be a transcript of what one would tell a credulous friend over a cup of coffee the whole story quickly, as if it happened, never mentioning the book youre working on. Pretty good advice when Dear Diary drops off. The better procedure is to pretend those books already exist, and offer a summary, a commentary

57

AU GU S T 25

Live alone, on his own? Solo dance? Resist romance? He poured himself another beer, And shed himself another tear, The past was gone, the dog was dead, But The woof had clearly warped his head. He popped another can of brew, The only thing he knew to do, The future loomed, a pup was there, But Should he start a new affair? All we ever know for sure, (Assuming that our hearts are pure): Truth is beauty, beauty truth, And Tolls are due at each new booth. Live alone, on his own? Solo dance? Not a chance.

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AU GU ST 26

In the Library of Babel, sometimes referred to as the universe, theres a large section of fiction about utopian and dystopian futures that never happened. Just to the right of that section are similar novels about a future that might still happen. Occasionally, the librarian updates the shelves, moving a few books to the left. For instance, in 1984 the librarian moved that famous Orwell book, and there it sat for nearly twenty years. Recently some smart-aleck vandal changed Orwells title to DHCMRLCHTDJ, then stuck it into the nearly-bare section of future-fiction that did happen. shame. Sincerely grinning, Borges. Shame,

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AU GU S T 27

The best part of each day is the time spent staring at the blinking cursor, pondering what to submit to this site, waiting for the excogitation process to conjure something up from sub-where. During that time, the backspace and delete keys are the most frequently pressed. Writing, unlike speaking, allows ordinary thinkers to edit themselves into something that seems extraordinary, and allows the daft to impersonate the sane. But, verily, all writers grow up in Lake Wobegon, above average, especially gullible, forever refusing to give up on the noble lies that drove us nuts in that first place, our hometown.

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AU GU ST 28

If it aint free, dont buy it.

So said Mohatma

Mahoney, sometimes adding, Dont even try it. Even when theres a money-back guarantee, theres never a time-back guarantee. If it worked (whatever it may be), it wouldnt be offered for sale at three oclock in the morning. Anybody who knew how to get rich quick would be slow to reveal the secret. (The secret is to claim to know how to get something for nothing.) But theres a hoper born every minute. What springs eternal in the human breast is almost always best suppressed until weve had a little rest.

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AU GU S T 29

Although Ive seen it many times in other places since, the first time was on the wall of a restroom stall. Amidst crude drawings of genitalia and numbers to call for a good time, I found the now-famous observation: We are alone in the universe. We are not alone in the universe. Either way, the thought is staggering. Gratuitous, gratis graffiti. Same goes here: I will be alone the rest of my life. I will not be alone the rest of my life. Either way, you know what. Trouble is, I dont. persistently pesky. The illusion of free will is

62

AU GU ST 30

Once upon a time, the most beautiful sound we ever heard was the oh-so-euphonic onceuponatime. Its hard to say which side of the blanket was better when the Pokey Little Puppy boarded the nightly express, about to be pulled by The Little Engine That Could. When that train left the station on its way to dreamland, it had two lights on behind. The blue light was my baby, and the red light was my mind. Sometimes it seems our loves in vain. Its hard to tell. Ten billion neurons in the brain, but the best ones are fired by onceuponatime.

63

AU GU S T 31

What sort of day was it? A day like all days, filled with those events that alter and illuminate our times ... and you were there. Yesterdays hot story on the evening news was about some Senator from Idaho who was under fire because he had reached for a piece of toilet paper on the floor of an airport restroom, inadvertently signaling by hand and by foot that he wanted to get lewd with the dude in the next stall. Just another example of how no good deed goes unpunished. And that's the way it was (the way it is).

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SEPTEMBER 2007

SEPTEMBER 1

The rocky road of life is hard: birthstone, grindstone, gravestone, and (optionally) brimstone. Robert Allen Zimmerman said everybody must get stoned. But weve come a long ways since the Dylan days. In May a teenage girl in Iraq was stoned to death because she loved a boy of the wrong religion. More recently a man in Iran was similarly dispatched for committing adultery. They say, about many things, It cant happen here. But there are a helluva lot more lapidators than stoners nowadays. Sapiens. Theres no doubt that brimstone, so to speak, is the millstone around the neck of Simian

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SEPTEMBER 2

At roughly the age of fifty, precocious people see Ma Nature and Pa Time conspire to require a paradigm shift. Fifty may be proclaimed the new forty or even thirty, but all thought-provoked quinquagenarians, be they fit or fat, know the Big Five-O is like midfield on the gridiron of life. According to the current actuarial tables, life expectancy is not yet a triple digit, but, assuming humankind survives, its only a matter of time before fifty will be exactly halftime. The distance to the goal line may change, but the first fifty will always conclude the second time around.

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SEPTEMBER 3

A long time ago, I knew a guy named Paul Maul. He said his name had been the source of a lot of irritation. Like a tall person hearing Hows the weather up there? Paul was constantly asked, Got a smoke? About the time he turned thirty he wrote what he described as his first autobiography. The title was Traveling the Smoke Farther, in which he explained how important grammar had been in his life. He said, Even if you accept the idea that something can travel smoke, theres no way anything can travel smoke further. Like a cigarette should.

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SEPTEMBER 4

Xanthippe heartily recommended marriage. She once said, If you get a good husband, youll be happy. If you get a bad one, youll become a philosopher. Her husband-to-be, upon hearing what she said, was so impressed by her insight that he proposed marriage. And, even though by all accounts he was a bit on the ugly side and had what we now describe as a few extra pounds, she accepted his proposal. They made babies and history together. He came to be known as a gadfly, and she came to be known as a shrew. stoically ever after. They lived

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SEPTEMBER 5

Woodys Speech to the Graduates begins: "More than any other time in history, mankind faces a crossroads. One path leads to despair and utter hopelessness. The other, to total extinction. Let us pray we have the wisdom to choose correctly. Thistlebottoms points out that he meant at any other time. And she added that he meant fork in the road not crossroads. We can disregard the facetious exhortation to pray, but not the gist of the jest. Yogi said, When you come to a fork in the road, take it. We probably will. Apparently nobody gets mad as hell anymore.

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SEPTEMBER 6

In a world where so much shit happens, its hard to spot dogs not crapping. With so many authority-wielders known to be morons and nuts, its hard to believe there havent been any nucular accidents in the sixty-odd years since Little Boy and Fat Man. Edwin Corley, in The Jesus Factor (1971), provided a fictional explanation (plot summary deliberately withheld here). Breaking News: General J.D. Ripper was fired because, a few days ago, his boys lost track of six Bigger Boys for more than three hours. At no time was the public in danger. Thanks to our purity of essence.

71

SEPTEMBER 7

On September 7, 1927, Philo Farnsworth transmitted the first ever all-electronic television picture. He got the idea while he and a horse were tilling a potato field in Idaho. The back and forth process inspired his vision of a machine that could transmit an image line by line. He eventually came to feel he had created a monster. Exactly twenty-three years later, the quiz show Truth or Consequences had its television debut. Television. Truth. Consequences. Hmmm. Today, exactly eighty years after Philos creation, other news about Idaho is on television. Some guy, fudging the truth, trying to avoid consequences. Hmmm.

72

SEPTEMBER 8

They are out there. No doubt about it. One of them is or was R. W. OBryan, Perrysburg, Ohio. About twenty years ago he or she wrote one great sentence: Mary looked up from playing with the basket of kittens to hear her instructor repeat, Remember, kitten in the left hand, skinning knife in the right! That instructor is out there, but, thanks to folks like R. W. OBryan and Scott Rice (the genius who started the Bulwer-Lytton contest), more and more cats exit the bag of the authoritarian conditioning that would, otherwise, drown out the playfulness in our souls.

73

SEPTEMBER 9

Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way. Blah, blah for 800+ pages. And the light by which she had read the book filled with troubles, falsehoods, sorrow, and evil, flared up more brightly than ever before, lighted up for her all that had been in darkness, flickered, began to grow dim, and was quenched forever. Like Woody, I took a speed reading course and read Anna Karenina in twenty minutes. It involves some Russian women named Dolly, Kitty, and (no surprise) Anna. At one point somebody said boredom is the desire for desires.

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SEPTEMBER 10

Big-Fat-Hen Day. Memo to John, Luke, and Matt: Mark my words. The end is near. Ever since Prometheus stole the fire, Humankind has been chained to a rock, And, curiously enough, It seems the Eagle will be Merely the ultimate culprit. Its been only a matter of time, For ages. Whimper, bang, fire, ice? Do we have to perish twice? Hollow women, hollow men, Hollering how they know the When. But nobody knows the Wherefore, Anymore. As before, Just above my chamber door, Quoth the eagle, Nevermore. What the world needs now Is a Rock-and-Roll Requiem. Rock on! Sincerely yours.

75

SEPTEMBER 11

I know a young woman who had a baby, her first child, in June of 2002. Come to find out, she knew exactly when and where that child was conceived. And come to find out more, the conception occurred the tenth of September 2001, the day before everybody-knows-what. I had to ask, If you had waited one more day, would you have wanted to start a family anyway? She replied Sure, as if to say Why not? or What difference did it make? I had to ask, Would you have disregarded you-knowwhat?" She more or less had to reply, Sure.

76

SEPTEMBER 12

Today, and hereby, I submit my two-week notice, a few days premature. After this, only eighteen more 100word-plays. Assuming I finish the month, and assuming the muse has nothing up her sleeve, I will, at least temporarily, suspend this daily exercise of consciousness. The willing suspension of disbelief has had its moment on the beach of serendipity. What Coleridge said was to transfer from our inward nature a human interest and a semblance of truth to procure for these shadows of imagination that willing suspension of disbelief for the moment, which constitutes poetic faith. Quid (semi) pro (status) quo.

77

SEPTEMBER 13

Breakfast at IHOP. Unexpurgated Version Waitress: What do you want, little boy? Son: Bring me some them fucking pancakes. Dad smacks Son, You know better than that. Waitress: What do you want, little girl? Daughter: I sure dont want any of them fucking pancakes. Bowdlerized Version Waitress: What do you want, little boy? Son: Bring me some of them fucking pancakes. Dad chides Son, You know better than that. Son to Dad, Shit! Excuse my solecism. Son to Waitress: Bring me some of those fucking pancakes. Dad, Son, Daughter exchange High Fives, triumphantly. Waitress gets the pancakes, but not it.

78

SEPTEMBER 14

Strictly speaking, theres no such thing as a waste of time. Time cannot be wasted. People sometimes get wasted, and what they do while wasted is usually a waste of time. But the claim that somethings a waste of time implies that something else wouldnt be. Time spent vexed about the total inches around the narrowing of ones body between the rib cage and the pelvis (what should be called the waist-oval) is probably a good example of time wasted. Another example would be time spent vexed about the quality of a note to be beer-bottled and properly disposed (of).

79

SEPTEMBER 15

A guy goes into a bar. Hes got a parrot on his shoulder. The guy sits down next to a nun. The nun is sipping on a martini. The bartender asks the guy, Whatll you have? The guy looks at the nuns martini. Ill have what shes having. The bartender brings him a martini. Another guy walks into the bar. This second guy is carrying a duck. Guy One says, Nice duck. Guy Two says, Thanks. About this time, a third guy walks in, whistling a tune. But, just when things were getting good, the nun got up and left.

80

SEPTEMBER 16

On the About page we see: This exercise in disciplined creativity exactly 100 words isnt as easy as it sounds to borrow from Proust. In the Overture of Swanns Way, Marcel managed to extract from the restriction itself a further refinement of thought, as great poets do when the tyranny of rhyme forces them into the discovery of their finest lines. Eliza, sick of words, burst into song. Read me no rhyme. Dont waste my time. Attaboy to Jeff and Roy. Hear, hear! Read, write! On. Where else, why else, Merde like this. Encore, Merci!

81

SEPTEMBER 17

People who grew up in the Fifties may recall the prognostication that we would soon see the four-hour workweek. Although that sounded too good to be true, the sci-fi writers were quick to point out that the future might be downright dystopian because of too much free time. Another forecast of the Future in the Fifties was that science might advance to the point where we became virtually immortal. Sci-fi writers warned that the combination of long life and excessive leisure might be like the typical deal with the devil. Now we hope those futurists were wrong about both portents.

82

SEPTEMBER 18

A social studies teacher once distributed a handout to her class of thirty students. On the handout was a somewhat famous statement. Fifteen of the handouts had, at the bottom, Abraham Lincoln. fifteen had Adolf Hitler. A discussion ensued. was malevolent. A low-profile, guru-yogi guy once said, The sunset is no less beautiful because a Philistine points to it. What he meant was that, while its usually wise to consider the source, there are times when what counts is the point, rather than the pointer. Half the class thought the The other

statement was magnificent, the other half thought it

83

SEPTEMBER 19

Miss Muffet, young and small in stature, While seated on an ottoman. While consuming a coagulated dairy product, Noticed the arrival of a predatory eight-legged arachnid. It got a little too close for comfort, So Miss Muffet got the heck out of there. After which, the annoying, alarming arachnid Made its way up a drainage device, Only to be an unfortunate victim Of adventitious precipitation. Fortunately, the heat of a nearby star Evaporated all the residual moisture, And the intrepid invertebrate Tried again, this time successfully. Without the rhythmic rhyme, Muffet wouldnt resonate, And terms like eensy-teensy Never would ingratiate.

84

SEPTEMBER 20

In order to have a dream come true, youve got to have a dream. Likewise, in order to be out of ones element, one must have an elementa most favorable environment, a situation in which one is happiest, most effective. Watson? Human beings are now like fish out of water, and only partly because of the so-called ecological crisis. The coolest analogy nowadays is How to cook a frog: Stick him in a pot of cold water, set the heating element on low, and Froggys twanger will lose its magic before he jumps. An element would seem elementary, eh

85

SEPTEMBER 21

How do you do? he asked rhetorically. How do I do what? And who the hell are you to be questioning my methods? Who do you think you are anyway? she replied sedately. Sorry I asked, he said nonchalantly. You should be. You oughta be ashamed of yourself. You oughta know better than to interrupt a persons life with irritating questions. Youre just like every other man Ive ever known, and all men are pigs, she said patiently. Have a nice day, he said triumphantly. Dont tell me what to do. I might prefer a nasty day, she cooed warmly.

86

SEPTEMBER 22

Next month, instead of sending 100-word mind-bytes to this site, Im considering the alternative. alternative. The alternative to this is to take advantage of the dirtcheap-to-poor-folks psychological therapy services offered locally. Through AARP, I should be able to get a pretty hefty Senior Citizen discount, but even a low-low price would be too much. Im negotiating with Dr. Soand-So to see how much she is willing to pay me to visit her, say, twice a week for a month. Im plenty sure I could help her plenty. Ive seen The Sopranos. Note: Thistlebottom reminds us there is only one other

87

SEPTEMBER 23

I think Im starting to get it. I think I am on the verge of an epiphany. Very exciting, being on that verge. Epiphanies are suddenly there and slam-bam-thankyou-mama gone. The verge: foreplay of the soul. What, I have wondered, are we doing here at this site, day after day? Why do people come here, stay for a while, soon leave, or worse never leave? If we were in an office setting, each exeunt would have the concomitant exit interview to satisfy the conscience of some human re-sorcerer. By this time tomorrow, I think Ill know why stage left appeals.

88

SEPTEMBER 24

As has often been my personal experience, here I have been playing a game by self-imposed, self-inflicted rules. Other than the century stipulation, there are no rules. But everybody brings there own booklet of regulations here. Personal prescripts, well redacted before a word is written. And, par for my course, I hooked and sliced, never once took a mulligan, and managed to land myself smack dab in the middle of the same old trap. And, were I playing by my own rules here, I would explain what I mean. But, with the clubhouse in sight, no more Fore. No more.

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SEPTEMBER 25

Schopenhauer

was,

hands

down,

the

funniest

philosopher ever.

Never mind, for the nonce, his

Philosopher of Pessimism sobriquet. In his essay On Style, he vented his frustration with some popular writers of his time. He said their style indicated, to him, their objective might have been to go crazy altogether. Then, in one of the great observations ever made by a great observer, he said: They write down words, nay, even whole sentences, without attaching any meaning to them themselves, but in the hope that someone else will get sense out of them. I chortled, then had a good laugh.

90

SEPTEMBER 26

Kindness, the average-run-of-the-mill milk of human kindness, is now as suspect as politeness. Its almost against the common law of everyday society now. It has become an Ulterior behavior. More and more people believe that deliberate, let alone random, acts of kindness come with a catch. Nice people get their sleeves examined. Whats up, doc? I sent her flowers for her birthday, out of the blue, but only after spending most of a morning trying to convince myself that there was no way it could be interpreted as stalking. Criminy. She was sixty-three. Doesnt that statute of limitations expire eventually?

91

SEPTEMBER 27

I havent had an ulterior motive since puberty. But thats like most of my memories of fifty years ago. Subject to change. Agathon, the famous one, said, Even God cannot change the past. Thats a classic example of strictly speaking. Truth be told, most of the important features of the past, ones personal past, not only can be changed but are changed as time goes by. Nobody has or wants Total Recall. What we want and get is valueadded reminiscence. About forty years ago, an inveterate fabricator described his prevarications as creative recollection. Fond memories are a matter of will.

92

SEPTEMBER 28

Ask me no questions, Ill tell you no lies. Good old song. A popular variation is Dont ask, dont tell. But that is rarely put to music. The important part of both expressions, however, is the first bit: Dont question me. That imperative comes from just about everybody nowadays. Dont question authority. Dont question reality. Dont ask me where I was until three oclock in the morning. Dont ask me if your outfit reveals too much of what you prefer not to expose. What I sing is this: If you ask me no questions, I wont tell you anything. Period.

93

SEPTEMBER 29

Penultimate entry. Some people slip an extra t into that word. Adding the extra t results in Pentultimate, which may be a potentially revealing parapraxis per se. But, allowing orthographic license, its only a short jump to Pent-Up-IMate, a neologism that may provide something of an explanation for a wide range of behaviors, from speed dating to matrimony itself. I think many people settle (in) with a significant other because they get fed up with the insignificant everybody-else, all those insignificant others, signifying nothing but furious, fulsome sounds. But thats just an idiots tale, about to be heard no more.

94

SEPTEMBER 30

Epitome: Still and all, why bother? Here or anywhere. Kurt said many people need desperately to receive this message: I feel and think much as you do You are not alone. (He, however, was inimitable.) Epigraph: The Second World War was over, and there I was at high noon, crossing Times Square with a Purple Heart on. Epithet: God does not play dice; the dice play God. Epigram: The best reason to write is the same reason Menckens cow gave milk. Epitaph: Excuse My Dust. Epilogue: Why such a short epitaph? fucking busy, or vice versa. She was too

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