Aye have just finished watching a sceptical u-toobe vid after a non-sceptical “I was employed doing it~!” vid. (So my own stance hasn’t been shifted towards either pole.)

Here, a nice saint—

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—if you don’t see the lady in this imagery, here’s our same saint but not wearing her bun:

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—and as may be expected the of the nice (energetic, wow) Mr Shermer he even gives us the two side-by-side—

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And better, he explained about people seeing saints in buns. (Hell, I remember when everyone was seeing Elvises …)

Shermer was quite a contrast to the guy I’d watched earlier, one Russell Targ who put forward his entertaining (but probably not easily verifiable) anecdotes about “Remote Viewing for the US government” (is that spooky or what?)*.

That’s him  finger down   (32 minutes worth)

Intriguingly I can’t dismiss either. Shermer offers an excellent case and I’m with him completely.


it’s hard to debunk your own self when you yourself have done things above and beyond the call of coincidence; and trust me (I hate it when they say that) I’ve applied all the tests. And invented a few … so I have foot in each boat. My decision? I’d rather get wet than commit to either.


explain my (limited) experiences of telepathy and precognition? A toughie with a very simple answer:

I can’t.

There, don’t you feel a bit let down? But I can pass along the advice I received many years ago: don’t try. Just do it, or not do it

Oops, nearly forgot, here’s the vibrant Mt Shermer—

—all of 14 minutes worth, make of him what you will. Actually I enjoyed both of those guys …

BOOM BOOM!* Yes, pun intentional. I love them.


WOW~! Give that Dog a


Bop(Poor ol’ mutt deserves it.)

Read on … or even more better, go there and gag gasp for yourself. I made it all the way to one minute twelve seconds, and decided at that point there was a post coming on …

… this one …

… for you to see for yourself.

Be reminded:  I made it to a minute twelve. If you can do better, please let me know how … and for that matter: why?

AND if by flagging it away so soon I goofed (damned gagging reflex … mutter mutter mutter) please let me know, and why.

And now, back to pondering the great medieval conundrum that tied up the hierarchy of the Church for ages:

How Many Angels Can

Dance On The Head Of a Pin?

From memory the answer was ten thousand, but don’t quote me on that. I could be wrong and really don’t want to have to count ’em all again …

     chimp rocks.gif




Screen Shot 2018-03-01 at 10.48.46Eek!

But who in his (oops, gotta be PC here—) her right mind would murder the “lungs of the planet”? Virgin rainforest, jungle, zillions of trees all frantically gobbling CO2 and socking it away and thereby saving us from heat-death; and here we* are, wilfully destroying all of that? Trees that have been there forever, keeping us cool, now off to the arboreal abattoir?

Or have they were they are they …


much … recently a schoolboy somewhere (or other) playing with his google found to everyone’s great amazement a lost city under the forest over there. Wow. But wait, it gets better—a LIDAR survey found lots of ’em. Some quite big, and all the discoveries when added up tend to rock the ol’ boat of expert thinking a bit.

Perhaps them ancient pyramid things weren’t really built way out in the jungle after all; thereby confuting all the experts who were thinking exactly that and have been for generations. Wait—scientists wrong? Never …

It’s all too much for this old dog, so while I wander off to find some fleas to scratch take a look at this—

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—which I pulled in this evening and snup from—

—this vid here. Less than four minutes (try it, as the actress said to the bishop, you’ll like it) in duration and well worth the expense.


It doesn’t even scratch the surface …

gast me flabbers!




* Speak for yourself, dammit. (I certainly never signed that page …)



Bopor maybe not.

But on the subject of PCness (and all who sail in her)—to be Politically Correct is to abdicate responsibility.

PC means one word, and one word only—and that is Coward.

And the other one word is Opportunist.

And survivalist …

Oh dear. Our word is becoming a lexicon … ’twas ever thus. So again I offer my personal contribution to the lingo:


—such a cute little word; but no-one could ever challenge it on PC grounds. Per is neutral, even more neutral than any other pronoun (noun, adjective, thing) word in English.



using ‘equality’ as a weapon (a bloody good one too) deride the established his/hers, he/she, him, her, son, daughter, bride, groom, husband, wife, master, mistress* etc etc ad hysterium (as in hysteria) etc etc …


favoured word ‘person’ is in itself sexist. In spades!

(Think about it … look again at the last three letters there; s-o-n … which refer to a (hoick, spit!) male offspring. Aaaaargghhh, that such wickedness could be!


to resonate with the vacuum-minded we must drop the ‘son’ syllable and opt in future to use the gender neutral ‘per’ only.


     chimp rocks.gif

Raining here now … how could you tell?


* Mistress:  between ‘mister’ and ‘mattress’


devil-29973__340 copyTHOR POINT

for me. Being a dog I have only a small brain yet sometimes even I like to learn.

But whereas some folks are natural instructors, teachers, tutors … others leave me frantically scrabbling for fleas to scratch, holes to dig, anything that makes sense and/or might even remotely be considered productive—

finger down
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So there I was, cheerfully pursuing a new word into the ol’ Mac’s onboard dictionary (which I suspect isn’t onboard at all but actually socked away behind closed doors in California somewhere) when it came up with the the above. Hah! I know this game:  innocently I go to DERACINE and it directs me to deracinated—I could spend the rest of my life in a back and forth time-warp.


you pursue the link by clinking the above snippet/image you’ll be able to see the context and maybe you will be able to figure things out. For yourself. In the meantime I’ll just carry on with me fleas and pile of ripe bones and hope that I never meet Mr Thor, especially on a dark night …

… and I still have no idea whose side he is on. Or for that matter what the Hades he’s on about*; or the (s)ignificance of doing (t)his to the (i)nitial letters of most (w)ords.


the same bin as other great unanswered questions of religion, such as “If Jesus really was God (incarnate) then He’d have to have pooped at least a few times every week, and given that Godly stuff is incorruptible and if a Holy Sh*t is the same size/shape as a mortals, and given that each holy turd must be about four to six inches long and Jesus lived to age 35 (plus or minus a few bits) …


… then there must be about a mile of Holy poop still awaiting collection by the Pope’s merry minions for turning into sacred relics (for sale to the gullib  devout)?”

Has Rome missed a trick here?

Can we expect armies of ‘pilgrims’ armed with shovels and sacks to descend on the Holy Lands with avariciou altruistic intent?


and recover sufficient they can save a whole heap of Peter’s Pence by using them in Communion—instead of munching the blood and Holy guts of Christ the penitents can kiss the sacred poop, and thereby save everyone a mint? (An everlasting wear-proof on-the-spot miracle: what could possibly bring more believers into the church, hmmm?)

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“Hey, you! Argus!”

(Uh oh)“Yes, your Divinity-ship?”

“Cool it, Dog! I don’t want ’em to think I was quite THAT human!”

Brrrrr …

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* if anything …




not merely a cynic

but a double-damned dubious damned doubting damnable cynic (the very worst kind) (yeuch~!) I love it when I come across nice well intentioned folks like this finger down

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‘cos they always press my a-grade cynic button hard through the floor.


I know nothing about the guy and/or his beliefs, and/or his lovely new systems of ‘worship’. (Actually, given that it is often better to travel hopefully than to get there and find your optimisms dashed I’d rather not know.)

It appears that the guy is trying to open a new franchise of the Christian Church. Good on him, sheep are there for the shearing (more often skinning alive); and any cow will earnestly tell you that mutton broth is far better than roast beef.


before, you know.

A Guy in New Zealand founded the Destiny Church, and look where it got him! (Extremely bloody wealthy with an unending Fountain Of Cash, that’s where…)

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Do it right and you too can found not merely a dynasty but an empire.

So, Bishop Andstep, go visit their site (the pic above is the link) and bone up on how they did it—save yourself a lot of unnecessary angst.

And don’t fret, for you shepherds there’s never no shortage of ripe sheep.

Go gett’um, Tiger!