Blog number 349 **** 30 November 2009
In a very interesting book by Elizabeth Thomas called, "The Old Way" about the pygmies of central Africa, and where the three tales about the effect the rising and setting sun has on animals that I wrote about three or four Blogs ago entitled, "Father, Sun and Holy Ghost", she tells of the use these people had with poisoned arrows, which I will try to summarize here.
In this Blog.
Now.
They poisoned the arrow heads on the shafts of the head, not the tip - for protection against getting accidentally poisoned by being stuck with the sharp point. The arrow heads were not as we commonly know them - like the American Indian arrow heads, but more like darts, commonly made from porcupine quills.The poison is made from the grub of a beetle that lives on the Baobab tree The grub buries itself in the dirt by the tree and is dug out by the pygmies. They pound on the body of the grub until it is mush, then remove the head and smear the innards onto the arrow head and Viola! Poisoned arrow.
One drop of the poison will kill a full grown man.
When they are done with making the arrowhead poisonous, they burn the leavings, being very careful to stand away from the smoke made by the fire.
Elizabeth says that she was standing downwind from such a burning with a tiny scratch on her hand, preferring to stand in smoke because of its warmth. Almost immediately the wound started hurting so much that she got a little worried, so she told someone about it. He smelled the wound (evidently flesh infected with the poison has a definite smell) and immediately started sucking on it. She said that she started feeling the effects up to her elbow and wondered how much farther it would have gone if left alone. She said she must have gotten only two or three molecules of the stuff from standing in the smoke from the fire.
Kinda makes one wonder how they found out that the innards of a grub was poisonous when injected into the flesh. Probably a pretty interesting story back of that.
By the way, they get their knowledge of the environment from experience and also much of it from what the older ones tell them. If you ask a question about something and they don't know the answer, they will say, "I don't know. The old ones didn't tell us that."
I guess the old ones didn't tell them how they come to be making poison from grubs, more's the pity.
Monday, November 30, 2009
Sunday, November 29, 2009
POTPOURRI PARA TI
Blog number 348 **** 29 November 2009
Yesterday I was watching a documentary about a killer whale catching a great white shark off the coast of California in 1997 . The story itself was interesting, with the people telling of what they saw and the film of the whale carrying the shark around in its mouth and the comments from the biologists about different pods of killer whales eating different foods, and the supposition that this whale learned how to kill great whites from a pod off the coast of Australia, or else he learned it on his own.
One thing curious to me was that none of the whale watching captains, the killer whale expert biologists, the narrator - none of them, ever referred to the whales as, "Orcas" but always as "killer whales." Wonder what that's all about.
Anyhow, the main curious thing to me was that a crew of fish biologists were at a group of barren islands off the coast of California - the Fallon or the Farron islands - I don't know which and I'm too lazy to look it up and it doesn't make any difference to my story anyhow, studying a group of about one hundred great white sharks that came there every year in October to feast on the sea lions that gathered there.
After the whale killed that shark - evidently a very unusual thing - never before seen anywhere outside of the Australian waters, no great white was ever seen that October in their gathering place in the Fallon or Farron islands. Over a hundred great whites disappeared immediately from the area after the killing of one of their own by a predator in that area. Think about that.
*******************************
On another program I watched that same day - a program called "Alaskan Patrol," one of the cops was saying that of the fourteen villages in that area, twelve of them were voted dry because alcohol caused so many problems. He said that there was a lot of unemployment in the villages so the villagers tended to drink out of despair and boredom.
Later on he says that the people could make an alcoholic beverage out of yeast, sugar and water, and it was ready to drink in 24 hours. (yech!) He then went on to say that a gallon of this stuff sold for $7. Then later he's talking about people buying a fifth of whisky in Nome for six dollars and then selling it in the villages for two hundred and fifty to three hundred dollars a fifth.
Now I'm thinking, "these people are unemployed, so they buy whisky at three hundred dollars a fifth to get drunk so they don't have to think about not having any money."
Neat trick!
Yesterday I was watching a documentary about a killer whale catching a great white shark off the coast of California in 1997 . The story itself was interesting, with the people telling of what they saw and the film of the whale carrying the shark around in its mouth and the comments from the biologists about different pods of killer whales eating different foods, and the supposition that this whale learned how to kill great whites from a pod off the coast of Australia, or else he learned it on his own.
One thing curious to me was that none of the whale watching captains, the killer whale expert biologists, the narrator - none of them, ever referred to the whales as, "Orcas" but always as "killer whales." Wonder what that's all about.
Anyhow, the main curious thing to me was that a crew of fish biologists were at a group of barren islands off the coast of California - the Fallon or the Farron islands - I don't know which and I'm too lazy to look it up and it doesn't make any difference to my story anyhow, studying a group of about one hundred great white sharks that came there every year in October to feast on the sea lions that gathered there.
After the whale killed that shark - evidently a very unusual thing - never before seen anywhere outside of the Australian waters, no great white was ever seen that October in their gathering place in the Fallon or Farron islands. Over a hundred great whites disappeared immediately from the area after the killing of one of their own by a predator in that area. Think about that.
*******************************
On another program I watched that same day - a program called "Alaskan Patrol," one of the cops was saying that of the fourteen villages in that area, twelve of them were voted dry because alcohol caused so many problems. He said that there was a lot of unemployment in the villages so the villagers tended to drink out of despair and boredom.
Later on he says that the people could make an alcoholic beverage out of yeast, sugar and water, and it was ready to drink in 24 hours. (yech!) He then went on to say that a gallon of this stuff sold for $7. Then later he's talking about people buying a fifth of whisky in Nome for six dollars and then selling it in the villages for two hundred and fifty to three hundred dollars a fifth.
Now I'm thinking, "these people are unemployed, so they buy whisky at three hundred dollars a fifth to get drunk so they don't have to think about not having any money."
Neat trick!
Monday, November 23, 2009
BOOoooo! HiSSSSSSSSSsss
Blog number 347 **** 23 November 2009
I found a place where one could "fly" using giant air fans to keep you in the air. The movies I saw of it made it look like one could fly fifty feet into the air. Kinda scary. Excitement scary. Great! I was so excited about going. My favorite dreams are about flying, so I had visions of having that same feeling of flying while awake. Fifty feet in the air, doing summersaults, Yay!
This morning we took a trip over to see what it was like. In the distance we could see this large white "building" which consisted of a building and shooting into the air, four white funnel-like things. We headed there.There were a lot of mobile homes, several large buildings, since they also hosted sky diving events - a drinking establishment called, "The Bent Prop," young men and women walking around shirtless (except for the females), some wearing sky diving clothes. Lots of activity, lots of people. On a weekday yet.
We stopped at a building that had signs advertising free-fall sky diving and asked directions to the indoor flying. We were shown the road to take and were told to watch out for sky divers coming down. On the road driving there, we saw a sign that said, "Watch out for canopy traffic." I told my wife, "Look at that sign." She responded, "What's canopy traffic?"
I looked up, and sure enough, it was raining men. Since we weren't in a convertible and therefore wouldn't be able to see those coming down on top of us, I thought it would probably be better if canopy traffic watched out for us.
Maybe not.
We got to the right building. I walked up the stairs, my wife walked up the ramp. Somebody was smoking in that clear desert air. It did not compute. Without thinking about it, I never expected smokers. Why, I dunno. I didn't really expect young people, although I should have, and once I would think of young people, I would have thought, "Uh oh. There's gonna be smokers."
That was the first unpleasant incident. Actually, the sight of all those bare chested youngsters reminded me of spring break at Lake Havasu that I watch on the telly. That was really the first unpleasantness I felt. People that age are nuts, especially around alcohol and mixed sexes. The Bent Prop carried new significance for me.
So we get to where the blowing fans keep the flyers in the air. I watched a "flyer" in a glass enclosed room with a trainer, lying on his back, held up by the air from the fans to a grand height of three and four feet. I asked a woman how high one could go. She said not above the glass enclosure - a height of about eight feet. It was impossible to go higher than about fifteen feet - the top of the room. Not scary at all. Not exciting at all. Boooooooring!
"What a crock," I thought.
We left.
We won't be back.
Phooey.
Phooey.
Bleh.
I found a place where one could "fly" using giant air fans to keep you in the air. The movies I saw of it made it look like one could fly fifty feet into the air. Kinda scary. Excitement scary. Great! I was so excited about going. My favorite dreams are about flying, so I had visions of having that same feeling of flying while awake. Fifty feet in the air, doing summersaults, Yay!
This morning we took a trip over to see what it was like. In the distance we could see this large white "building" which consisted of a building and shooting into the air, four white funnel-like things. We headed there.There were a lot of mobile homes, several large buildings, since they also hosted sky diving events - a drinking establishment called, "The Bent Prop," young men and women walking around shirtless (except for the females), some wearing sky diving clothes. Lots of activity, lots of people. On a weekday yet.
We stopped at a building that had signs advertising free-fall sky diving and asked directions to the indoor flying. We were shown the road to take and were told to watch out for sky divers coming down. On the road driving there, we saw a sign that said, "Watch out for canopy traffic." I told my wife, "Look at that sign." She responded, "What's canopy traffic?"
I looked up, and sure enough, it was raining men. Since we weren't in a convertible and therefore wouldn't be able to see those coming down on top of us, I thought it would probably be better if canopy traffic watched out for us.
Maybe not.
We got to the right building. I walked up the stairs, my wife walked up the ramp. Somebody was smoking in that clear desert air. It did not compute. Without thinking about it, I never expected smokers. Why, I dunno. I didn't really expect young people, although I should have, and once I would think of young people, I would have thought, "Uh oh. There's gonna be smokers."
That was the first unpleasant incident. Actually, the sight of all those bare chested youngsters reminded me of spring break at Lake Havasu that I watch on the telly. That was really the first unpleasantness I felt. People that age are nuts, especially around alcohol and mixed sexes. The Bent Prop carried new significance for me.
So we get to where the blowing fans keep the flyers in the air. I watched a "flyer" in a glass enclosed room with a trainer, lying on his back, held up by the air from the fans to a grand height of three and four feet. I asked a woman how high one could go. She said not above the glass enclosure - a height of about eight feet. It was impossible to go higher than about fifteen feet - the top of the room. Not scary at all. Not exciting at all. Boooooooring!
"What a crock," I thought.
We left.
We won't be back.
Phooey.
Phooey.
Bleh.
Friday, November 20, 2009
FATHER, SUN, HOLY GHOST
Blog number 346 **** 20 November 2009
Now this is strange.
Most of us know of the yoga position, "Salute to the sun" that is given at sunrise, and also of the many different ancient religions that worshipped the sun as a god.
In the book, "The Old Way," Elizabeth Thomas writes, "flocks of ducks, geese and other water birds who swam there would wait for the last red flare of the sun to vanish below the horizon, and at exactly that moment they would all fly off as if at a gunshot, all together, in a rush of wings. On cloudy days, when the sun could not be seen, they flew off more or less as dusk gathered, one flock at a time.
Equally impressive were two captive wolves whom I met years later in the United states who would crowd together at a window and wait for the sun to rise, and as soon as its first bright ray came into view, they would howl together, each voice singing a different part in a breathtaking song that set on end the hair of all who heard it. But, like the birds, if the wolves didn't actually see the sun, they took no special action. On cloudy mornings, they paced around below the window without howling. They did this every morning until [their deaths].
As a third example of an animal responding to the sun, I offer an observation of a lion in Etosha Park in Namibia whom I watched one evening. When we first saw the lion he was all alone on an open plain near a natural spring, lying propped on his elbows with his head raised, apparently watching the sun set. At least he was facing the sun, which was sinking toward the horizon. He seemed patient but alert, as if he were waiting for something. As the sun touched the horizon, he began to roar. He continued to roar as the sun sank out of sight, and fell silent the moment it vanished. His mission seemingly accomplished, he then stood up, turned his rump to the gorgeous western sky, and slowly walked east across the plain."
Early one morning just before sunrise by a lake in Denver Colorado, I witnessed tens of thousands of bullhead fish suddenly churn the whole surface of a placid lake. Just as suddenly it stopped. Then it happened again. And again stopped. This continued every few seconds - six or seven more times, until the sun's rays hit the lake, then it stopped, never to be resumed - at least in my presence. I have never seen this before or since. (ed. note)
When I am ruminating on the magic which surrounds us, I sometimes imagine the sun being the physical manifestation of God, and that "fact" accounts for the reverence shown the sun by so many creatures. The sun does give life to all creatures, yes?
Elizabeth's story of the wolves reminds me of something I read in a book about General Grant of civil war fame. This one soldier is telling a story of traveling with Grant (now here, I am not sure of my footing. It might not have been General Grant, but rather some other fellow soldier) anyhow, they heard wolves howling. The other soldier (Grant?) asked if the story teller knew how many wolves were howling. The story teller knew the other soldier came from Indiana (I think) where there were wolves. He also had heard that wolves howling always sounded like many more wolves than were actually there. He thought it sounded like twenty or thirty wolves, So he said, "ten."When they came around a bend, they saw two wolves standing in the road - evidently the only two howlers.
Now this is strange.
Most of us know of the yoga position, "Salute to the sun" that is given at sunrise, and also of the many different ancient religions that worshipped the sun as a god.
In the book, "The Old Way," Elizabeth Thomas writes, "flocks of ducks, geese and other water birds who swam there would wait for the last red flare of the sun to vanish below the horizon, and at exactly that moment they would all fly off as if at a gunshot, all together, in a rush of wings. On cloudy days, when the sun could not be seen, they flew off more or less as dusk gathered, one flock at a time.
Equally impressive were two captive wolves whom I met years later in the United states who would crowd together at a window and wait for the sun to rise, and as soon as its first bright ray came into view, they would howl together, each voice singing a different part in a breathtaking song that set on end the hair of all who heard it. But, like the birds, if the wolves didn't actually see the sun, they took no special action. On cloudy mornings, they paced around below the window without howling. They did this every morning until [their deaths].
As a third example of an animal responding to the sun, I offer an observation of a lion in Etosha Park in Namibia whom I watched one evening. When we first saw the lion he was all alone on an open plain near a natural spring, lying propped on his elbows with his head raised, apparently watching the sun set. At least he was facing the sun, which was sinking toward the horizon. He seemed patient but alert, as if he were waiting for something. As the sun touched the horizon, he began to roar. He continued to roar as the sun sank out of sight, and fell silent the moment it vanished. His mission seemingly accomplished, he then stood up, turned his rump to the gorgeous western sky, and slowly walked east across the plain."
Early one morning just before sunrise by a lake in Denver Colorado, I witnessed tens of thousands of bullhead fish suddenly churn the whole surface of a placid lake. Just as suddenly it stopped. Then it happened again. And again stopped. This continued every few seconds - six or seven more times, until the sun's rays hit the lake, then it stopped, never to be resumed - at least in my presence. I have never seen this before or since. (ed. note)
When I am ruminating on the magic which surrounds us, I sometimes imagine the sun being the physical manifestation of God, and that "fact" accounts for the reverence shown the sun by so many creatures. The sun does give life to all creatures, yes?
Elizabeth's story of the wolves reminds me of something I read in a book about General Grant of civil war fame. This one soldier is telling a story of traveling with Grant (now here, I am not sure of my footing. It might not have been General Grant, but rather some other fellow soldier) anyhow, they heard wolves howling. The other soldier (Grant?) asked if the story teller knew how many wolves were howling. The story teller knew the other soldier came from Indiana (I think) where there were wolves. He also had heard that wolves howling always sounded like many more wolves than were actually there. He thought it sounded like twenty or thirty wolves, So he said, "ten."When they came around a bend, they saw two wolves standing in the road - evidently the only two howlers.
CHICKEN LITTLE MY ASS
Blog number 345 **** 20 November 2009
Two days ago I saw on a newscast that a big ball of ice fell from the sky and tore up the roof of a house. The ball was about eight inches in diameter. One explanation was that it must have come from an airplane. I didn't buy that for a minute.
Teresa read this Blog entry and says that the ball of ice was eight to twelve inches in diameter. I thought that myself, but I like to err on the side of conservatism. My wife doesn't. So now we have two interpretations of a news event.
Two days ago I saw on a newscast that a big ball of ice fell from the sky and tore up the roof of a house. The ball was about eight inches in diameter. One explanation was that it must have come from an airplane. I didn't buy that for a minute.
Teresa read this Blog entry and says that the ball of ice was eight to twelve inches in diameter. I thought that myself, but I like to err on the side of conservatism. My wife doesn't. So now we have two interpretations of a news event.
I really love that girl.
Then today I'm reading in my book Stranger Than Science, of chunks of ice falling upon cars in a car lot, "... I looked up and I could see the sun shining on big pieces coming from 2000 feet up... I looked for a plane, but there weren't any."
The meteorologists promptly dismissed the whole thing as chunks of ice from a plane; but their explanation is dismissed as worthless by aviation authorities who point out that it is impossible for ice in such massive chunks to form on any plane.
"We have hardly scratched the surface of the astounding list of things that have fallen from the skies... Unable to explain them, science does the next best thing... it ignores them."
Thursday, November 19, 2009
BAH! HUMBUG!
Blog number 344 **** 19 November 2009
Just got back from the movies. Mom drug me to see "A Christmas Carol." I really didn't want to see it, having seen many different renditions of it. I know the story - it never changes. I thought it would be a waste of time, but in order to please my lovely, I consented to go see it.
It was magnificent. The artwork was unbelievable. Terrific. Outstanding. The story had just the right amount of new touches, making it a much more interesting story. The comedic touches fit right in, none of them were forced. Scary parts were scary. Damn good movie.
I was very pleasantly surprised
Just got back from the movies. Mom drug me to see "A Christmas Carol." I really didn't want to see it, having seen many different renditions of it. I know the story - it never changes. I thought it would be a waste of time, but in order to please my lovely, I consented to go see it.
It was magnificent. The artwork was unbelievable. Terrific. Outstanding. The story had just the right amount of new touches, making it a much more interesting story. The comedic touches fit right in, none of them were forced. Scary parts were scary. Damn good movie.
I was very pleasantly surprised
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
CURB YOUR ENTHUSIASM, DAMMIT!
Blog number 343 **** 18 November 2009
One of my favorite TV shows that I look forward to every week is, "Curb Your Enthusiasm." This is not a show for everyone. You have to acquire a taste for it and many people never do acquire that taste. Kinda like anchovies on pizza, I guess.
The reason I am entering this entry on my Blog will become clear later on, but first I have to report a puzzling aspect of last Sunday's episode.
Larry David - the star of the show and one of the creators of the Seinfeld show, along with Jerry Seinfeld, is producing a "return" episode of the Seinfeld show. During the rehearsal, a friend of Larry's comes to watch and tells a very long, not at all funny to me, obscene joke which the character Jerry finds extremely funny.
The puzzling aspect of this scene is that all writers agree that only something that furthers the plot or illuminates a character's character, or furthers some other explanation is written into a story. You don't put anything in that you, the writer, wish to perpetuate - such as a moral or political code. Or soft porn, which is very commonly put into stories for reasons known only by the producers.
You don't use the story to tell anything except the story. So what was this joke so long, so unfunny, so obscene, doing in here? The character telling the joke is a minor character, appearing every forth or fifth episode, and only for a short time. Why did Jerry's character find it so funny? Did Larry David find the joke funny and wanted it in the show for the humor?
Couldn't a shorter, funnier, not obscene joke be found - like the one about the Priest, the Rabbi and the whale going into a bar?
So that's the puzzling aspect. Now, to me, the interesting aspect of that show was that Kramer is worried because his doctor told him that he had Groats' disease, from which people usually die. I Googled Groats' disease and first it says that it is not a disease, it is a symptom, and not only that, it is not a real symptom, but rather one that is imaginary, created on the "Curb Your Enthusiasm" show.
The symptom is akin to drinking five cups of coffee.
One of my favorite TV shows that I look forward to every week is, "Curb Your Enthusiasm." This is not a show for everyone. You have to acquire a taste for it and many people never do acquire that taste. Kinda like anchovies on pizza, I guess.
The reason I am entering this entry on my Blog will become clear later on, but first I have to report a puzzling aspect of last Sunday's episode.
Larry David - the star of the show and one of the creators of the Seinfeld show, along with Jerry Seinfeld, is producing a "return" episode of the Seinfeld show. During the rehearsal, a friend of Larry's comes to watch and tells a very long, not at all funny to me, obscene joke which the character Jerry finds extremely funny.
The puzzling aspect of this scene is that all writers agree that only something that furthers the plot or illuminates a character's character, or furthers some other explanation is written into a story. You don't put anything in that you, the writer, wish to perpetuate - such as a moral or political code. Or soft porn, which is very commonly put into stories for reasons known only by the producers.
You don't use the story to tell anything except the story. So what was this joke so long, so unfunny, so obscene, doing in here? The character telling the joke is a minor character, appearing every forth or fifth episode, and only for a short time. Why did Jerry's character find it so funny? Did Larry David find the joke funny and wanted it in the show for the humor?
Couldn't a shorter, funnier, not obscene joke be found - like the one about the Priest, the Rabbi and the whale going into a bar?
So that's the puzzling aspect. Now, to me, the interesting aspect of that show was that Kramer is worried because his doctor told him that he had Groats' disease, from which people usually die. I Googled Groats' disease and first it says that it is not a disease, it is a symptom, and not only that, it is not a real symptom, but rather one that is imaginary, created on the "Curb Your Enthusiasm" show.
The symptom is akin to drinking five cups of coffee.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
LIFE IS A HIGHWAY
Blog number 342 **** 17 November 2009
Three days ago I was waiting in the middle of the road waiting to make a left turn - exactly like it says to do in the driver's manual, and when the oncoming traffic slowed because the light turned yellow, ready to turn red, I started to make my left turn. But then I noticed the first oncoming car was speeding up, so I stopped, and as he drew next to me, he slowed way down. I didn't look at the driver, but I am sure he slowed down in order to glare at me for trying to cut in front of him. He ran through a red light in order to do this.
Later that day I legally parked in a handicap parking at Fry's at the same time this car pulled up in front of me and the driver got out and said, "You didn't pull in far enough. Someone's going to hit the back of your car." I thought he was talking to someone else because I had pulled in far enough. He said it again, so I said, "What?" - checking to see if it was me that he was talking to. He told me that again, so I looked at the back of my car, saw that it was pulled in far enough, but in order not to piss the guy off, I said, "Thanks," got in, started the car up, pulled up about two feet, stopped the engine, got out and started to go into the store. Then I noticed that where the guy had parked, which I had assumed was a parking spot and he was indeed trying to be helpful, was NOT a parking place.
Let's see now. This guy pulled into a non-parking place in front of a handicap parking spot, got out of his car in order to accost me to tell me I should pull further in. I thought, "What the hell?"
Now that's two "funny" drivers, so all that day and the next two, I kept looking for my "third" funny driver because those things usually happen in threes. I gave up looking today.
Funny thing, though - and this may well be that thirdie I was looking for. There is a chance that both cars and both drivers are the same car and driver. Same color cars, same "big" cars, same aggressive "I'm entitled" attitude.
The parking guy, I think what he was doing was expecting to cut through the parking lot until I pulled in front of him and stopped that. Why he got out of the car and gave me that strange warning, I have no idea. Dork.
Three days ago I was waiting in the middle of the road waiting to make a left turn - exactly like it says to do in the driver's manual, and when the oncoming traffic slowed because the light turned yellow, ready to turn red, I started to make my left turn. But then I noticed the first oncoming car was speeding up, so I stopped, and as he drew next to me, he slowed way down. I didn't look at the driver, but I am sure he slowed down in order to glare at me for trying to cut in front of him. He ran through a red light in order to do this.
Later that day I legally parked in a handicap parking at Fry's at the same time this car pulled up in front of me and the driver got out and said, "You didn't pull in far enough. Someone's going to hit the back of your car." I thought he was talking to someone else because I had pulled in far enough. He said it again, so I said, "What?" - checking to see if it was me that he was talking to. He told me that again, so I looked at the back of my car, saw that it was pulled in far enough, but in order not to piss the guy off, I said, "Thanks," got in, started the car up, pulled up about two feet, stopped the engine, got out and started to go into the store. Then I noticed that where the guy had parked, which I had assumed was a parking spot and he was indeed trying to be helpful, was NOT a parking place.
Let's see now. This guy pulled into a non-parking place in front of a handicap parking spot, got out of his car in order to accost me to tell me I should pull further in. I thought, "What the hell?"
Now that's two "funny" drivers, so all that day and the next two, I kept looking for my "third" funny driver because those things usually happen in threes. I gave up looking today.
Funny thing, though - and this may well be that thirdie I was looking for. There is a chance that both cars and both drivers are the same car and driver. Same color cars, same "big" cars, same aggressive "I'm entitled" attitude.
The parking guy, I think what he was doing was expecting to cut through the parking lot until I pulled in front of him and stopped that. Why he got out of the car and gave me that strange warning, I have no idea. Dork.
Monday, November 16, 2009
LET'S GET REASONABLE
Blog number 341 **** 16 November 2009
I came across a statement that always kinda bothers me, in this book of oddities that I am currently reading. It goes, "Science has learned a great deal about the mind in the past three decades thanks to new instruments and new techniques; but, reduced to its fundamentals, it becomes a program of the mind studying the mind, and that complicates the problem."
The mind studying the mind does not COMPLICATE the problem! What it does is make it IMPOSSIBLE.
The eye cannot see itself, the finger cannot touch itself, the ear cannot hear itself, the nose cannot smell itself, the mind cannot know itself. It ALWAYS takes an outside agent to investigate anything. That should be obvious to everybody, and especially to purported scientists.
With these newfangled instruments and techniques, scientists have learned about some of the things Mind can DO, but of Mind itself, nothing.
Think, Dammit! Don't make me come out there.
I came across a statement that always kinda bothers me, in this book of oddities that I am currently reading. It goes, "Science has learned a great deal about the mind in the past three decades thanks to new instruments and new techniques; but, reduced to its fundamentals, it becomes a program of the mind studying the mind, and that complicates the problem."
The mind studying the mind does not COMPLICATE the problem! What it does is make it IMPOSSIBLE.
The eye cannot see itself, the finger cannot touch itself, the ear cannot hear itself, the nose cannot smell itself, the mind cannot know itself. It ALWAYS takes an outside agent to investigate anything. That should be obvious to everybody, and especially to purported scientists.
With these newfangled instruments and techniques, scientists have learned about some of the things Mind can DO, but of Mind itself, nothing.
Think, Dammit! Don't make me come out there.
I AIN'T ODD. YOU'RE ODD!
Blog number 340 **** 16 November 2009
I'm reading this book, see. Stories about weird happenings. I was going to write some excerpts from it, but upon reflection, what good are oddities that can't be explained, except to realize that Existence is a really, really odd experience? And one can realize that, just by pondering on how a group of cells can let another group of cells see hear and feel, for instance. One doesn't need stories about oddities. One can use ordinary happenings, because if we look deep enough into anything, we will always find that "THAT CAN'T BE!"
I loved the stories about people, ships, airplanes, armies and whole villages disappearing.
Never to be seen again.
The first story was about a man on a farm in Tennessee in 1880 disappearing in front of his two children, his wife, and two men who happened to be passing by in a buggy. But what good is it to know about that incident? Pleasure from reading about it is all one gets from it, I guess. I like to share pleasures I receive, in the expectation that I can also share the pleasure another gets from experiencing what I experience. I get pleasure doubled, tripled, quadrupled, in that way - depending upon how many get pleasure from reading what gave me pleasure reading. Like telling a joke I enjoyed so that others can get the same enjoyment, which gives me a further enjoyment.
Too much explanation?
Too bad.
I'm reading this book, see. Stories about weird happenings. I was going to write some excerpts from it, but upon reflection, what good are oddities that can't be explained, except to realize that Existence is a really, really odd experience? And one can realize that, just by pondering on how a group of cells can let another group of cells see hear and feel, for instance. One doesn't need stories about oddities. One can use ordinary happenings, because if we look deep enough into anything, we will always find that "THAT CAN'T BE!"
I loved the stories about people, ships, airplanes, armies and whole villages disappearing.
Never to be seen again.
The first story was about a man on a farm in Tennessee in 1880 disappearing in front of his two children, his wife, and two men who happened to be passing by in a buggy. But what good is it to know about that incident? Pleasure from reading about it is all one gets from it, I guess. I like to share pleasures I receive, in the expectation that I can also share the pleasure another gets from experiencing what I experience. I get pleasure doubled, tripled, quadrupled, in that way - depending upon how many get pleasure from reading what gave me pleasure reading. Like telling a joke I enjoyed so that others can get the same enjoyment, which gives me a further enjoyment.
Too much explanation?
Too bad.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
AND WE KNOW THAT HOW?
Blog number 339 **** 10 November 2009
"Conditioning" is a term coined to denote cultural myths disguised as truths. "Dogs, cats and horses are pets, never food," is one of the common myths in our culture. We have been conditioned by our culture to see these animals in this way. It is not logical that these animals not be food while cows, for instance, are. It makes no logical sense. It is an emotional sense. A conditioned sense. It is not a fact that horses are not food.
Another myth disguised as truth in our culture is the "fact" that everyone by law is innocent until found guilty. I am not a lawyer, so I don't know if this is a law or not, but if it is, I have heard Judge Judy - a lawyer, say to defendants and plaintiffs, "being found not guilty does not mean that you are innocent or have been found innocent." So how does this jibe with innocent until found guilty? Is a person not found guilty, innocent or not? Let's be consistent.
And are not tens of thousands of "innocent" people in the United States jailed every day even thought they have not yet been found "guilty" of anything? Do we jail the innocent? Of course not. Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain.
The means of this conditioning is very subtly done. Someone tells us something, or we read it, or it is insinuated, or we interpret something to mean something, and it goes into our "belief basket." We never think to check the "fact" out. We simply accept it. And it has to be that way, for if we checked everything that came to us as fact, we would never get anything else done.
Buddhists say that life is suffering.
A recent song lyric says, "I am pain. You belong to me. You'll be with me for a hundred and ninety four years. I am pain. You are all I want."
That last about the number of years might not be exactly correct.
So sue me.
No, please don't.
I don't want to go much further with this, but it is my personal opinion that people take way too much umbrage at death, and those whom I feel take that umbrage is to whom this Blog entry is pointed. I don't think it is too far from the truth to state that the afore-mentioned umbrage comes from cultural conditioning and not from looking at facts. Facts such as the ones insinuated in the five and six lines above this one.
And of course, I am right.
"Conditioning" is a term coined to denote cultural myths disguised as truths. "Dogs, cats and horses are pets, never food," is one of the common myths in our culture. We have been conditioned by our culture to see these animals in this way. It is not logical that these animals not be food while cows, for instance, are. It makes no logical sense. It is an emotional sense. A conditioned sense. It is not a fact that horses are not food.
Another myth disguised as truth in our culture is the "fact" that everyone by law is innocent until found guilty. I am not a lawyer, so I don't know if this is a law or not, but if it is, I have heard Judge Judy - a lawyer, say to defendants and plaintiffs, "being found not guilty does not mean that you are innocent or have been found innocent." So how does this jibe with innocent until found guilty? Is a person not found guilty, innocent or not? Let's be consistent.
And are not tens of thousands of "innocent" people in the United States jailed every day even thought they have not yet been found "guilty" of anything? Do we jail the innocent? Of course not. Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain.
The means of this conditioning is very subtly done. Someone tells us something, or we read it, or it is insinuated, or we interpret something to mean something, and it goes into our "belief basket." We never think to check the "fact" out. We simply accept it. And it has to be that way, for if we checked everything that came to us as fact, we would never get anything else done.
Buddhists say that life is suffering.
A recent song lyric says, "I am pain. You belong to me. You'll be with me for a hundred and ninety four years. I am pain. You are all I want."
That last about the number of years might not be exactly correct.
So sue me.
No, please don't.
I don't want to go much further with this, but it is my personal opinion that people take way too much umbrage at death, and those whom I feel take that umbrage is to whom this Blog entry is pointed. I don't think it is too far from the truth to state that the afore-mentioned umbrage comes from cultural conditioning and not from looking at facts. Facts such as the ones insinuated in the five and six lines above this one.
And of course, I am right.
SILLY QUESTIONS NUMBER ONE
Blog number 337 **** 10 November 2009
We (Teresa and I) went to Mimi's this morn. Teresa ordered a cup of coffee and it was sitting there when a server came over with something - I don't know what - I was reading, when I heard the waitress say, "Do you want me to bring a napkin for that?"
I looked and Teresa's coffee had been spilled - Teresa says by the waitress. It ran under the plastic covering the table cloth, on to Teresa's book, and on the newspaper we had brought with us. Looked like almost a quarter cup or so of coffee.
"Maybe a mop," I said.
No I didn't.
We (Teresa and I) went to Mimi's this morn. Teresa ordered a cup of coffee and it was sitting there when a server came over with something - I don't know what - I was reading, when I heard the waitress say, "Do you want me to bring a napkin for that?"
I looked and Teresa's coffee had been spilled - Teresa says by the waitress. It ran under the plastic covering the table cloth, on to Teresa's book, and on the newspaper we had brought with us. Looked like almost a quarter cup or so of coffee.
"Maybe a mop," I said.
No I didn't.
Sunday, November 8, 2009
PEOPLE CAN CHANGE. CAN TOO!
Blog number 336 **** 08 November 2009
The author of the book I'm reading (see Blog number 335 below) seems to me to suffer from a bit of naivety. He seems like such an intelligent and thoughtful scientist that it surprised me no end to find that out. I can't get over it. What's the matter with that man?
Let me explain.
After WW II, and after the Germans had invaded the peaceful kingdom of The Netherlands and killed many innocent civilians and destroyed much of their property - all without provocation, much as has been done by another country to another country in our present time, the author states that since that time the Dutch have been less than enamored of their neighbors to the east (the Germans).
As an undergraduate of at the University of Nijmegen, he was taught by several German professors who spoke Dutch with a heavy German accent. One of these professors was a grumpy old man who was rumored to have been a concentration camp guard. Then the author goes on to say, "Obviously this couldn't be true, since he would now have been in jail or worse."
Well, that's good enough proof for me. How about you? O. J. didn't go to jail when he killed his ex, so he must have been innocent too. Right?
But wait. Besides being old and grumpy, was there anything else about that man that might make one suspicious of the truth of that rumor? Well, let's see.
"To make matters worse, this professor manually killed the mice needed for our anatomy practicum. He didn't believe in death by ether, and would simply take a box with live mice and stand with his back turned to us. A few minutes later, a pile of dead mice with cracked necks lay on the counter... you can imagine we found this professor a bit scary."
The author of the book I'm reading (see Blog number 335 below) seems to me to suffer from a bit of naivety. He seems like such an intelligent and thoughtful scientist that it surprised me no end to find that out. I can't get over it. What's the matter with that man?
Let me explain.
After WW II, and after the Germans had invaded the peaceful kingdom of The Netherlands and killed many innocent civilians and destroyed much of their property - all without provocation, much as has been done by another country to another country in our present time, the author states that since that time the Dutch have been less than enamored of their neighbors to the east (the Germans).
As an undergraduate of at the University of Nijmegen, he was taught by several German professors who spoke Dutch with a heavy German accent. One of these professors was a grumpy old man who was rumored to have been a concentration camp guard. Then the author goes on to say, "Obviously this couldn't be true, since he would now have been in jail or worse."
Well, that's good enough proof for me. How about you? O. J. didn't go to jail when he killed his ex, so he must have been innocent too. Right?
But wait. Besides being old and grumpy, was there anything else about that man that might make one suspicious of the truth of that rumor? Well, let's see.
"To make matters worse, this professor manually killed the mice needed for our anatomy practicum. He didn't believe in death by ether, and would simply take a box with live mice and stand with his back turned to us. A few minutes later, a pile of dead mice with cracked necks lay on the counter... you can imagine we found this professor a bit scary."
YEAH! WHAT'S THE MATTER WITH YOU?
Blog number 335 **** 08 November 2009
I'm reading, "The Age of Empathy" by Frans De Waal.
Talking about the difference of opinion about social bonding amongst social biologists "recalls that famous dinner conversation between a Russian literary critic and the writer Ivan Turgenev: ' We haven't yet solved the problem of God,' the critic yelled, 'and you want to eat!' "
I'm reading, "The Age of Empathy" by Frans De Waal.
Talking about the difference of opinion about social bonding amongst social biologists "recalls that famous dinner conversation between a Russian literary critic and the writer Ivan Turgenev: ' We haven't yet solved the problem of God,' the critic yelled, 'and you want to eat!' "
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
CAN WE GET AN AMEN FOR REASONABLE LEADERS?
Blog number 334 **** 03 November 2009
I'm reading a history of The Simpsons. One story contains a remark by the first President Bush's Drug Czar, William Bennett.
Willie admitted that he had never seen [an episode of The Simpsons] adding, "I'll sit down with the little spike head [Bart Simpson], we'll straighten this out ...there's nothing that a Catholic school, a paper route and a couple soap sandwiches wouldn't straighten out."
The Simpson writers responded, "If our Drug Czar thinks he can sit down and talk this over with a cartoon character, he must be on something."
I'm reading a history of The Simpsons. One story contains a remark by the first President Bush's Drug Czar, William Bennett.
Willie admitted that he had never seen [an episode of The Simpsons] adding, "I'll sit down with the little spike head [Bart Simpson], we'll straighten this out ...there's nothing that a Catholic school, a paper route and a couple soap sandwiches wouldn't straighten out."
The Simpson writers responded, "If our Drug Czar thinks he can sit down and talk this over with a cartoon character, he must be on something."
Sunday, November 1, 2009
WISH I COULD WRITE LIKE THAT
Blog number 333 **** 01 November 2009
I'm reading a kind of a biography by James Lipton - the "Inside the Actor's Studio" guy?
James was an actor when he met Harold Curman - the name's not important. Harold was a greatly respected acting teacher. Harold would talk with the students after classes, telling stories, One night James asked him, "Weren't you a play reader for the Theatre Guild in the Twenties?"
When he said that he was, one of the other students asked him what were the greatest plays he ever read.
He said the best was one that he never went beyond the title page because nothing could equal it.
"It said, Act one, Scene one; Ten million years before the first living creature crept out of the primordial ooze.
Act one Scene two; Two weeks later. "
Hah! Delicious!
I'm reading a kind of a biography by James Lipton - the "Inside the Actor's Studio" guy?
James was an actor when he met Harold Curman - the name's not important. Harold was a greatly respected acting teacher. Harold would talk with the students after classes, telling stories, One night James asked him, "Weren't you a play reader for the Theatre Guild in the Twenties?"
When he said that he was, one of the other students asked him what were the greatest plays he ever read.
He said the best was one that he never went beyond the title page because nothing could equal it.
"It said, Act one, Scene one; Ten million years before the first living creature crept out of the primordial ooze.
Act one Scene two; Two weeks later. "
Hah! Delicious!
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