soylent chartreuse

spoyler alert… it’s people…  and kinda stupid… ((as are some people, like, for example, those who write about it 35 years later… and those who read about it… and those who, when they write, excessively use ellipses as a smooth and default-type of punctuation…)) happened in a movie a long time ago with a story set in a future still eleven years in…  the future, as in, from now. I decided to watch this quasi classic film again a few days ago, what with Thanksgiving and all. This was only the second time I had watched it since seeing the first time. Duh. Continue reading “soylent chartreuse”

Tiger Tiger pants on fire

Source: Reuters

Now, wasn’t that fun?

First saw this on Twitter about 12 hours after the fact. One must wonder what is up with that. And so I do. First one tweet, then another….    Tiger Woods had a wreck, he’s in the hospital… links to some news sources… most news sources fragmentary at best. Word is that his injuries are serious.. that it is a single-vehicle accident. Who knows, at this point. U.S. News – Headlines, Stories and Video from No matter. I’m amazed, absolutely astonished at the instant out pouring of concern, sympathy and acknowledgement of prayer on his behalf. No mention of the family. But, hey, they are not Tiger Wood. To other amazement, his name is not showing up in Google Trends as of this writing. Give it a few minutes. Wow.


The nature of this venue does not put a premium on research. This is no publication of record. It’s the Internet. Worse, it’s a blog. A web log. A log on the web. It is a log of blurbs and nonverbal verbiage because it has not been verbalized, actually uttered other than through these fingers upon this keyboard, and then, if you are a tormented with cognition, the voice you are hearing as you read this. The difference is that I don’t talk this way, the way these words are coming out here on this screen, unless I am writing. Or do I? I don’t really know. Sometimes and not.

Source: Wikipedia

I remember very little of what I say when I say a thing or two verbally, using the articulation tools from my guts to the end of my nose.  ((Some would include body movements, facial expressions and gestures often accompanying my speech.))  So, I’m discovering as these words accumulate on this log, I do not remember them as I thought I should or would. But that’s okay. They are here. That’s where the log part of blog comes in. That’s for what logs are. And the web, it’s for convenience, I suppose. Otherwise I probably would not have written here what I have written. But I did. I wrote them on this day, the 5th of November.

Upon hearing this date I’m reminded of it, of hearing the date spoken, verbalized, written about, cataloged, sung even. The singing part was what I couldn’t get out of my head. Instantly John Lennon’s song surfaced amidst the chemical flora and fauna playing with each other in the forest that is my gray matter. Some call it memory. I remembered the song, but not the title. Irony blesses my life again. This called for action on which the nature of this venue does not put a premium. ((Research. Remember? NOTE: First mentioned in the first sentence, first paragraph of this post.))
What I remembered most about the song was its finish, the last line. I dug a bit and found quite a few sites offered lyrics to all of John Lennon’s song catalog. To my amazement the first few sites showed different versions of the same song, different from each other, and certainly varied from what I remembered. The thing is, I don’t trust my memory as once I did. This is probably a mistake. I’ve discovered that I’ve remembered incorrectly far fewer times than not, even with younger, fresher minds at hand. Nevertheless, I could have sworn that Mr. Lennon ended the song Remember with “the 5th of November.” But the versions of lyrics I beheld through my “research” had omitted those words. ((Forgive me when I say that I felt like somebody was playing mind games.))  Anyway, I looked around until I found a couple of sites that did indeed agree with my memory. And so, I felt a lot better about a few things. Just couldn’t remember what.


Remember when you were young
How the hero was never hung
Always got away
Remember how the man
Used to leave you empty handed
Always, always let you down
If you ever change your mind
About leaving it all behind
Remember, remember, today
And don’t feel sorry
The way it’s gone
And don’t you worry
‘Bout what you’ve done
Remember when you were small
How people seemed so tall
Always had their way
Remember your ma and pa
Just wishing for movie stardom
Always, always playing a part
If you ever feel so sad
And the whole world is
driving you mad
Remember, remember, today
And don’t feel sorry
‘Bout the way it’s gone
And don’t you worry
‘Bout what you’ve done
o, no, remember, remember
The fifth of November.

John Lennon

Oh, and something about a Guy named Fawkes…


the crack of dawn

and so, why not invest in your new possible ocean-front property. This amounts to some seriously aggressive real estate speculation, certainly. So far, we’ve got a 36-mile-long crack, 20-feet-wide at its broadest, opening from seismic activity in 2005. This is the stuff of doomsday movies. Afar, Ethiopia, the Red Sea, parting without Noah’s request  ((though a case could be made, I’m sure, and it was Moses, anyway))  leading to who knows what and the kicker, who knows when. Projected time-lines strongly suggest the ocean formation will occur “eventually.”
Thanks for the heads up, guys. Exactly how eventual are we talking? Couldn’t some enterprising government real estate tycoon, dictator, tyrant, benevolent tribal entity entrepreneur type come up with a plan to market this stuff… futures? Nah, couldn’t be legal in any part of the world. Surely someone could develop an industry toward touring this amazing geological site. Its newness is its novelty. The Grand Canyon is how old? This thing, this new hole, is spanking brand shiny smelling of plastic new by any measurable geological terms.
I want to see it. I would pay good money to see it. Could I please have a show of hands from all who witnessed the birth of any other oceans of which we might be aware? That’s what I thought.
Okay, let’s charter the flights. Let’s get our passports ready. Let’s take a look at this hole while it’s still so tiny we can tell our grandchildren and they won’t believe a word.