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Work on what has been spoiled

The irony about the above piece from sept 2004 is that by then the enn-essay may have already been doing just what I described, but said took too much band-width to do.

Bad Jokes . . .

the old standby joke: what to do in case of a nuclear attack: put your head between your legs and kiss your . . . goodbye.

Worry about such things doesn't help you or anyone.

Work on what has been spoiled. But what about those who pretend that there isn't a problem?

If the forest service gives you fair warning about the impending erruption of the nearby volcano (Mt St Helens, was it 1980?) then who is at fault if the worst that can happen does? It's not about the government or authority. It's about the actuality of nature and how it really behaves. One volcano will destroy you suddenly. Or you will live through it and mourn for the dead. Let's hope for a third case, which should be for most things, adn the result of most events: the third case, the most importan6t and constant case: everyone lives through it and thus no one needs to mourn for any victims of the non-event. Like what happened in Hawaii. It was a not-happening. Maybe it was someone thinking 'hey, this is funny'. Or it was some psychotic finger on the button guy (unlikely) who 'pushed' the tizzy-switch. Everyone, OK, tell that old stock joke about kissing your . . . good bye. The punchline that was a non-punchline back in the early 1980's when that nuclear thing was a-hanging low: what are we all going to do, get in our cars and get on rt 3 north to New Hampshire? No, it wasn't going to matter. If it ever got that far, being 36th, we were told, on the 'this place is going to be destoryed -o- mometor' our town, not in a wilder way, was going to be 'blown up to hell and gone'. But that ended up being one of the third choice: that no , it didn't actually happened. We never had a nuclear event of that sort back in the early 1980s.

There were two nuclear events that did happen, and they were rather dire, back in the 1970's and 1980s: Three Mile Island, in Harrisberg, PA area. Cherynobel, a reactor of the old Soviet (and that's not an old-timesy folk-rockabilly band).

Work on what has been spoiled. The first thing a hotelier needs to do to get his staff to make a place sanitary for public inspection and eventual guests is to identify the problem. Permission to speak freely ought to be the rule for bosses and head directors, presidons, and other strange creatures of upper management. We ought not censor the one who is acessing the fate of things at that hotel chain, club Hell? Or something else? If it's a hellhole, then they say it's a hellhole, or a different type of hole it be, the other kinds. A house of that. A mouth like that. A person with that as their main feature: to give out the hell for anyone with whom they disagree. Instead of hearing the message, they pretend to a fowl message. This does not help.

The first step is to recognize that it is something that has been spoiled. It has become a hellhouse (not a hell house but a s__thouse). If you don't see it that way, then you don't rush for the bleach and the hazmatt suit. If governance is at the point of being so poison as to need a hazmat suit, then we are in a sad situation indeed. If you disagree with his choice of words, at least you can understand his emphatic request for a mop and bucket, a cup of bleach and a few gallons of water. Or how about cleanup robots, that spray the sidewalks with bleach like they have to do in San Diego now because it's turned into a hellhouse. Well, not a hellhouse, a s__thouse. It's Choloric. antiseptic activity is required.

Or the place should be abandoned. You can't do that to a whole country? The reason that you would 'take in' people from such countries is simple: to help them. But is it better to do something else instead? to give them the bleach and the mops? But then maybe someone says 'oh you busy bodies, imposing your theories on antiseptic livestyle upon a foreign nation. What if we say 'you can come and visit but only after you clean up your own room. But they are not our children ad we are not their parents and the interaction doesn't have a sitcom quality parent child explanation of events. We live in the real world.

Let's choose the third case

The third case is the boring non-click-bait story. In the third case story there are not casualties. There is no sense that anyone ever felt any sesne of peril. Whatever harmful event might have occured was mitigated quickly, if any such possibility even existed in the first place. Management will be notified. The situation will be handled. And if it were somethign caused by some unknown players, or whatever (whateva?) then they will be added to the watch list, and life will go on as normal.

The third boring case, about which no spy movie is ever made. The giant icecle of doom hanging over the heads of the citizens is removed before it ever became an issue. threats are noticed. Most of the times it is found to be nothing, but just caution of the watchers. If real peril is possible, the third solutin says 'this is a nothing.' It is not even a burger. It isn't even a burghar. Well, if it is a scoffing burghar, as novelettically this kind of creature is possible in a story, if not in the real world (like the Barrymoore character in Its a Wonderful Life), if such a creature is possible, and such a creature is out to do harm, the third solution is that they do not succeed. And they are known. And they are not allowed to keep being creeps and stealing. But that kind of person is a fiction, correct? I say yes such a person is actually a fiction and no such ultimately evil person even does exist but if they did . . . and there were heroes of the unknown who fight for the comic book ending of everyone is safe and supermensch catches all the fallacies before they ever get published, and there are no misspellings, and there are so many edits that its all perfect, and all inequality is solved forever just from the words. How far fetched.

So the better solution: if the road is icey, it is salted and made safe before anyone gets hurt. If the icecle hangs above the halls of governnace, it is removed safely so that non of the halls and walkways that the people need to be safe ever come under any kind of architectural distress from falling ice.

Jan 14, 2018

Montecito

And a stadium sized fuel-cell bubble-house that floats off towards New Brunswick.

Space Ship snowman, 
beaming back from outside the known realms of space time
and sending you greetings from the future!
and gifts for everyone.

An old proverb:

Winter
is cold
colder
coldest
morning
waking
getting
that window shade
open

 
 Don't build your house in an arroyo
 The planning board denied it
 but the geologists knew.
 They don't build in a flood plane
 so why should you?
 

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Give me a totally rocking G
dance like a fool on the lawn
for all to see
sweeping wind and rain
comes blowing in from across the mountains.
the lake is lit up, insane,
and they've turned on
the glowing fountains.

Drink up
Drink up
Saratoga says
'hello'
Lake Champlain say 'come in July'.
But I'd rather be there in June.

  Praise     Praise     Praise
   the        the        the
   Lord       Lord       Lord!
  for    because    
 Easter  He's so awesome! 
  welcome to The Message Column!

      🖐♥♥Love♥♥🖑
      ♥♥🖑Cops🖐♥♥

      

Is it obvious parody or News or both?

 

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🖐♥♥Love♥♥🖑
♥♥🖑Cops🖐♥♥

      

     
Vote Once
One Vote
here is a fresh link, a new path to some older content:
   
   
 

 
 
 Ah ewe ah ewe ah ewe ah ewe ah ewe
 dunt dum dum daum
 
 Badda ba
 badda butt
 badda ba
 badda da da 
        da da 
         da da
             da
Dunt Da

Ah ewe a who ah who ah ewe a ewe?

Da Dunt da da
 

   
The second dream
is the lake in May
a big bay window
where does the time go?
I wish I could say
but I never really know.

It's so dumb, though
they say they love you
the storm is coming
now they say you can't stay.
Pick up the phone.
Isn't anybody home?
I'm here alone
and the car won't start.

The third dream is the one she'll tell
scented candles and a 
big bay window
where does the time go
she says she know
but she just can't say.

Pick up the phone
isn't any body home
I'm here alone.
and I'm locked out side.

The next thing I'm driving away.
I'd charged up the car and drove down the long drive way
the car slid and slided along
but I was alright
just singing this song.

It's so dumb though.
He pretends to be humble
He doesn't know what
he just won't say.
He'd pick up the phone
but he's not there alone
He's not just high, not just stoned on a bone.

If you're going up
to forgiveness farm
better not go
if you're going to carry on.
If you've got all
kinds of mean thngs to say 
don't go there
any day.

In Wicked Need of an Edit

🚛 🎓 🎔 🌀

Political and Media Inanity

Truck-u-later

in this column Truck-u-later steps in deeper . . .

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Work on what has been spoiled.

If you have to spray bleach, you have to spray bleach.

have to?

Or have unsanitary areas.

Read the hexegram.

蠱 work on what has been spoiled

Jan 14, 2018

delight in the delete.




Dude
you wrecked my truck!
you got it stuck
on a highland sholder
perched atop a bolder
at a mountain pass
you'd stomped on the gas
and went rolling over
the mountain clover
in a mountian pass
stomping on the gas
at three AM
in the blizzarding wind
in the blizzarding wind
in the bilzzrding wind

At 3:15 the cell phone rang
it was your boss telling you you've gotta come in
the storm took down at least 33 polls, 
and that's the story, just how it goes.
You said no way I'm stuck up here
my green bean buddy is full of fear
he says I got him stuck by jamming a gear
So we can't be coming anywhere near.

Dude
you wrecked my truck!
you got it stuck!
perched atop a blouder
near the mountain clover
by the mountain pass
you'd stomped on the gass
and popped the gear
which we had to hear
the tires chirpping loud
the metal scraped the ice
and it shrieked out loud
and then you hollared thrice
"Dude, you wrecked my truck! . . . "

At 4 AM the cell phone rang again
it was the boss saying we gotta come in
how much sooner or longer will it be?
Did you get my call at quarter past three?

In twenty minutes he was calling again
You said what's his problem, he's been phoning it in.

At 3 Am
in the blizzarding wind
in the blizzarding wind
in the blizzarding wind

Remember the Sultana!

April 27, 1865

  Praise     Praise     Praise
   the        the        the
   Lord       Lord       Lord
  for his    for his    for his
 unfailing  unfailing  unfailing
   love!      love!      love!



  well, little else now.