A HAIR TRIGGER

devil-2 BOPTEMPER

has always been a major with me.

I know:  pathetic.

But them’s the breaks and if The Fates see fit to treat me so, kismet. Or not.

After generations of effort I’ve finally subdued the raging beast—mind overcomes; and when red mists rise before the eyes I squash ’em right back to where they belong. In the pit.

EXCEPT ON SATURDAY

as I was driving The Spouse to town; a scruffy red-brown car damn near broadsided us, swerved across my bows and forced reflexes to hit the anchors while my mind was still absorbing the recent changes in our circumstances and thinking WTF?

A short-fuse ignited.

I accelerated and was about to to—without actually making contact—become as a second coat of paint on his rear. (It annoys idiots at first, then scares the snot out of them; and I have excellent brakes.)

He swerved back to the left where he belonged—as fast as they’d arisen I subdued the red mists. (Spouse’s delicate little whimper helped too …)

We got his number, make, colour and such stuff which Spouse wrote down, and then I allowed my speed and hormones to die away. Man is master of The Beast, no?

UNTIL WE PULLED

into the shopping park where we abandoned our car and walked to the entry … and there was that very same car. Right alongside the entry doors. Bingo.

Spouse hauled me inside where I grabbed us a table—and saw by the window, that very same face that had peered oafishly at me as I manoeuvred to avoid disaster. Spouse wasn’t here …

… I went over …

… the guy just sat staring as I made my case (all in good English); namely that I’d got his details and was going to report him to the Police for dangerous driving. And then—

—then completely matter-of-fact in a slow voice he said that he’d come into town to pick up his missus. Only then I noticed the heavy black metal walking stick. And the fact that there was something a little … different … about him.

And then he said he’d had three strokes (medical)—and I realised that I was in the presence of quality, not an ignorant buffoon. A man who’d taken a broadsides and was still afloat; in damage-control mode but quietly doing the best he could with what was left. He glanced across the room. Following his gaze I saw the troubled eyes of a woman who was obviously the missus, and had scored them a decent table.

I deflated. No option …

I advised him to please be more careful in future. I also made sure he understood that I was NOT going to take the matter any furtherand feeling humbled I watched as with a dignity I could never hope to achieve he semi-stumbled through the throng to Wifey.

So I’m a wimp.

Sue me—despite the scruffy clothes and old car that looked even more like mine than mine does, that guy had CLASS.  When The Spouse arrived with our coffees she spoke first, words to the effect of “That was the guy? Looks like he’s had a stroke—”

SOMETIMES

it pays to remember that some folks have (and as best they can, cope with) real problems.

If it’s true what my ‘psychic medium’ sister tells me, that angels walk amongst us, I just hope that I didn’t lose too many points—certainly I got the lesson.

dodo

 

Ram left

Advertisements

OLD NICK’s HOUSE?

The Satanic Temple

has seven fundamental tenets: down finger

  1. One should strive to act with compassion and empathy towards all creatures in accordance with reason.
  2. The struggle for justice is an ongoing and necessary pursuit that should prevail over laws and institutions.
  3. One’s body is inviolable, subject to one’s own will alone.
  4. The freedoms of others should be respected, including the freedom to offend. To willfully and unjustly encroach upon the freedoms of another is to forgo your own.
  5. Beliefs should conform to our best scientific understanding of the world. We should take care never to distort scientific facts to fit our beliefs.
  6. People are fallible. If we make a mistake, we should do our best to rectify it and resolve any harm that may have been caused.
  7. Every tenet is a guiding principle designed to inspire nobility in action and thought. The spirit of compassion, wisdom, and justice should always prevail over the written or spoken word.[20]

sourced:  CLICKETH HEREWITH

Despite the rather appealing name I could almost go to bat for a bunch like this. Really. Even if the average punter these days has to look up words like ‘nobility’ and (horrors!) … thought. (And demonstrates fallibility by being unable to spel, even in a good cause.)

devil

So there’s hope yet, Argie?

 

AND WHO CAN BLAME

THEM?

Simple survival of the ignorantest? The fittest, or those with the moral turpitude to ‘mañana’ themselves to a morally smug self-destruction?

I’M NOT GOD

sadly. If I were I’d be waving my magic wand with mad abandonment … or: is what He is doing the divine equivalent of pulling the wings off flies?

God, apparently (~obviously!) is right into it (sorry, flies).

With no apologies to anyone’s sensitivities:

I think God is a colossal sadist*

Any takers?

Oh … yes … the item that made me have a quiet ponder this morning, from Spiegel—

down there

In the 1950s, Lagos was home to just 300,000 people. Today, around 20 million live here. And by 2050, that number is likely to double to 40 million. According to projections by the United Nations, Nigeria could have a population of 400 million people by then, which would make it the third most populous country in the world.

Lagos is a prime place to observe the effects of population growth in many developing and threshold countries. Unable to survive in the countryside do to the lack of work and shortages of food and water, people are flocking to the cities. And it isn’t difficult to guess that some of them will continue onward to a place where hunger isn’t a problem, where it is peaceful and where prosperity is at least a possibility. To Europe. In 2017, migrants from Nigeria represented the fourth-largest group of asylum-seekers in the European Union, after refuges from Syria, Iraq and Afghanistan. In 2018, they were in seventh place.

henpecked

* And I’ve never (R) NEVER been refuted. Or challenged. (Or even scored an indignant religious squawk … a bit disappointing, but there ya go—unarguable points, best leave ’em alone to die in silent solitude, alone and unnoticed.)

SO FAR INTO IT

AND~

screen shot 2019-01-06 at 01.14.21I’m in love!!!

Decision time:

do I watch the rest of the show and risk my newest GUP* falling from her pedestal, or do I risk all on one throw of pitch and toss?

I vote throw …

BOOM BOOMShe may hold out.

Perhaps even gain in stature?

I’ll watch first, and comment later.

If you’re stuck for time, this next is only 4 minutes (and more basic)—

down there

AND NOW A

confession/apology … I’m using her to add a bit of credibility to some of the ‘Multiple Dimensions’ aspects of Reality—to help introduce Graham Hancock’s reasonings behind his frequent imbibing of ayahuasca. (I have no desire for any drug myself—living in NZ’s Southland is the biggest escape from Reality anyone could ever wish for, and it’s free.)

Do I look worried?

“Hey~! I’m working here … zzzzznorp …”

 

3 gerbils*  GUP = Grand Unrequited Passion

THE MILL GRINDS ON

THE STARS WHEEL WELL

in their heavens,Screen Shot 2019-01-08 at 08.23.20.png

the sun also rises, and hope springs eternal. But this is diversion—my observation is on the progress being made by stalwart cranks flying their flags in the face of entrenched stalwart reluctant Academia.

The reluctance is—as ever—on the part of the entrenched fighting desperately to retain income, power, prestige and privilege; despite advances in the knowledge they purport to purvey.

Trite comment, moot point?

For objective observers the issue is actually settled: delete ‘trite’ (and query ‘moot’).

THE PROBLEM LIES IN RELIGIOUS

belief. Not conventional so-called ‘religions’ but the unacknowledged unconventional … where absolute faith is placed in priests with parchments.

ONLY IN RELIGIONs

may the priesthoods be unchallenged—to challenge a priest/dogma is indeed a risky business.

Why is that?

Think Hee Hoo—

Hee Hoo holds the biggest gun

calls the shots. Amen.

—a given that needs no further proof than history:

  • past,
  • present,
  • and future.

OCCASIONALLY

a maverick struggles clear of the swamp and despite all odds rocks the boat sufficiently that a priest is dislodged—

—and so as a breed we progress, one baby step at a time along a bloodstained path littered with the corpses of unsung genius.

SOMETIMES

the Maverick may be a wild-eyed unkempt foaming lunatic—other times just another anonymous sacrificed martyr who plants a seed of doubt nurtured by others to eventually re-establish the Establishment by toppling it.

Yesterday’s ‘fact’ becomes today’s guffaw … and a new breed of Priests is born.

Minds close around successful new doctrines, cults consolidate (often infighting like fury until the dents are hammered out and the new facts en-bible-ised).

BUT DESPITE ALL

efforts by the Entrenched to maintain their stranglehold the Truth will sometimes out. For a few brief moments the torch is held high and we bask in glory—

Screen Shot 2019-01-08 at 08.22.52.png

—and sometimes Truth is a bit indignant. Justifiably heads roll. (One can but wish … as painful as it might be, I vote ‘Truth’, no?)

How about you?

But don’t ask me just now—

Do I look worried?

—I’m busy researching. Old dogs become spectators …

Kismet

FORGIVE ME

FOR I HAVE SUN

dodosinneth?

Sinned?

Aaaaah, that reads better:

FOR I HAVE SUN SINNED~!

in that being an absent-minded old poop with the retention span these days of a wet noodle I made a mental note to follow up … and forgot. (Bugger.)*

SO NOW I’VE PULLED IN

the Wiki entry on’The Wedge Document‘ and shall give it the full blast of a penetrating brilliant analytical—

giphy.gif

(you know, I almost got through that with a straight face~!) —mind.

BOOM BOOMLine, black

* I use the term in the British sense, as a mild and (sometimes even affectionate) expletive.