Antisocial Media - Learn how to get with it, stop being a loser obsessed with your online "personality" (as if you had one) and kill your social media NOW. You might get a job even:
I walked into a thrift store, walked to the used books and opened a Gunter Grass book called "Flounder." The page I opened to had a paragraph that was marked in the exact same way I would mark it (with a line on the side, not highlighted, or underlined), thus what I said in the last post is not pun. There is a real word or phrase where people live by that philosophy of read and it is their life. Here it is:
His disquisition, which was bolstered by quotations of poetry from the troubadours to the Beatles and anticipated the latest in pop songs and advertising slogans, concluded with the programmatic sentence: "Only if we succeed in persuading woman by subtle suggestion that love is a saving power and the certainty of being loved the supreme happiness, and if concomitantly man, even though loved to the point of adulation, steadfastly refuses to love or to guarantee the longevity of his little love affairs, so that the woman's dependence on the never-attained certainty that he loves her, still loves her, loves her and nobody else, becomes a lifelong anxiety, a humiliating torment, and an oppressive servitude-then alone will matriarchy be defeated will the conquering phallic symbol overturn all vulvar idols, will man illuminate the prehistoric darkness of the womb and perpetuate himself forever and ever as father and as master.
From "Flounder" by Gunter Grass
There is a word or phrase which I can not find no matter how hard I search. I thought I had it written in this blog. For practical sakes we can call it Bibliophilophic. A Bibliophilophic is a person who will randomly enter a location take the first book or readable document and determine their next choice to make or if they are on their life's path. They determine what they must do with their life by the random (not seen as random by Bibliophilopics) selection and finding of a segment within a book that is considered critical to to determining your path.
Another reason to be careful with your privacy. First off read the fiction book called "The Circle" by Dave Eggers and you will have a good idea on where we are headed as a country, people, world. Aside from that here is a a small article confirming this at least on the retail side of things:
You signed up for all those social media sites to connect with old friends NOT have your personal information tracked, marketed too, monitored, stored, stolen, and overall used to control your behavior. I am looking for solutions to keep our privacy as we move forward and use the good aspects that technology brings. One such app apparently will save you from the store's invading your phone: AVG PrivacyFix
I don't know how well it works but it may be worth looking into.
Another area of privacy that is critical on many levels is getting clean search. Now, with Google's new search engine updates users are getting targeted from what they search. In other words if a user searches for something, then the next time Google delivers search results it is going to factor that in (as well as where you live, your profile on social sites, your cell information, your friends interests--i'm not kidding).
I need clean search results for the SEO work I do. To get un-targeted, uncooked, untampered with, un-fettered, clean search data, then you will need to find a Tor enabled browser. It is the only way you can browse the web anonymously, and in the case of SEO, getting good clean general results (like we used to) - not fused with google's new targeted, relational search. Tor can be used with a number of different browsers and you will be amazed when you enable it on one of your browsers(and/or use a search tool like https://duckduckgo.com/) and compare the results with a browser you have running all willey nilly with Google's new search algo.
The more we are connected on the internet the more our right to privacy is at risk. Here is a link I found that may be helpful to ungoogle yourself. More and more people are taking up the mission to minimize their online presence but that is not always easy...take a look:
and click on the justdelete.me site to see services and how they keep your data, some forever!
Another indication that Facebook is going down, or at the least becoming less important (i hope):
The great poet Seamus Heaney died today. I will never get used to death, so natural, so unavoidable. I don't know why exactly, but I named my only son after Seamus. Only my son goes by Shea. It was as though his name was sent across the the misty Irish bog from one island to another that day. Transmitted by cirrus clouds of gas and pits of paper. Some people always are afraid to call my son by name because it so like my own, Shawn. And my son says he doesn't like his name because he knows some girls go by the name Shea. That must be, has to be, because my sons inspired namesake was a man of dwelled in the wilderness of male and female. Seamus Heaney embodies this duality in poems like "Act of Union," and I would guess he knew so.
Now, today, who chooses to become a poet. Why in this day and age is a poet needed? How is a poet created? I believe the secret mixture to be of substances becoming increasingly more rare. Was Seamus Heaney one of the last?
Twitter is our unconstructed, unculled poem of the great thundering masses. It will be the absolute most enormous poem the world has ever seen. But it may be a bone pile where, if your lucky, you might find a tin ring, possibly a dented crown. Will there ever be another poet to rise up to such fame as Heaney in a world where money is god, nature is manufactured and the spark of love comes through a key stroke.
Maybe it is not all that bad. Maybe it is not the death of the last great poet, but the dawn of a new kind of poet. One that must slog through the muck and frog filled slim of some far off dream of nature to find the right words to make a difference.
My son is now 14 but when he was 4 he said: "Dad, that over there is like light blue kisses. Light blue kisses, I like light blue kisses." From one island to another.
My son refuses to read or write. He hates the smell of musty old books and the library. He doesn't read magazines, only looks at the pictures and if there is an ipad then video is read with unending appetite. So what of this new budding poet, where will his words come from. I think I know the answer: far away across the sea, from the low deep mist of an earthy bog, down around the bend, past the sheep and the moss covered stone walls crumbling from the wind, salt, and grass of Ireland.
Poetry is emancipation of words. Poetry is no rules and string bindings. it is of mashups and a visual portmanteau. Possibly it is of things we sense and can't put into words. My next book of poetry will be a book of blank pages. Possibly it is a spring in one's soul waiting for the right time to come forth and fill empty vessels. Possibly poetry is possibility.
Thank you Seamus Heaney for giving my son his name. His words will come from the earth and roots and bits of time passing and words hidden in crags and caught like a light blue kiss on a laurel branch. Thank you Seamus Heaney for your courage and devotion to give us back our lost heritance of woods and marsh, bog and stone, bones and lavender, many and one. Thank you for keeping the crack in the fence to the wilderness on the other side, and the wind turned down to a whisper, and the song of the river rocks in tune, and the snow mythic white now - indeed a great forrest of weeping trees.
The first underwater photographer Louis Boutan took his first image in 1893. At the time there was no high speed film so it took him 30 minutes!!! to expose an image. Incredible!
Ferdinand Cheval was a French postman who upon tripping on a stone began to build a "temple" cared and cemented from stones he found on his route. It took him 30 years to complete and Cheval called it Le Palais ideal or The Ideal Palace. Here is the Wikipedia entry: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ferdinand_Cheval
Malthusian controversy - is a rather draconian theory that overpopulation will lead to diminished resources and consequently will cause a reduction in population as resources put humanity in check. Or a better way to put it is from Wikipedia:
A Malthusian catastrophe (also known as Malthusian check) was originally foreseen to be a forced return to subsistence-level conditions once population growth had outpaced agricultural production.
The power of population is so superior to the power of the earth to produce subsistence for man, that premature death must in some shape or other visit the human race. The vices of mankind are active and able ministers of depopulation. They are the precursors in the great army of destruction, and often finish the dreadful work themselves. But should they fail in this war of extermination, sickly seasons, epidemics, pestilence, and plague advance in terrific array, and sweep off their thousands and tens of thousands. Should success be still incomplete, gigantic inevitable famine stalks in the rear, and with one mighty blow levels the population with the food of the world.—Malthus T.R. 1798. An essay on the principle of population. Chapter VII, p61
Notwithstanding the apocalyptic image conveyed by this particular paragraph, Malthus himself did not subscribe to the notion that mankind was fated for a "catastrophe" due to population overshooting resources. Rather, he believed that population growth was generally restricted by available resources:
The passion between the sexes has appeared in every age to be so nearly the same that it may always be considered, in algebraic language, as a given quantity. The great law of necessity which prevents population from increasing in any country beyond the food which it can either produce or acquire, is a law so open to our view...that we cannot for a moment doubt it. The different modes which nature takes to prevent or repress a redundant population do not appear, indeed, to us so certain and regular, but though we cannot always predict the mode we may with certainty predict the fact.—Malthus, 1798, Chapter IV.
my first bday wish was just everyone coming out the other side of this crazy hard time. My second bday wish was getting beat with a stick. Yeah, that didn't come through this year but I'm hopeful for next. This bday was one of those years that is like who cares, after 40 kind of thing for me. BUT, my new bday wish is for all of us to get piss ass drunk on something expensive, someplace outside...beach maybe, mountains, Sri Lanka, you know... whatever. That is now what I want. It can happen. B for getting blasted day. for the fuck of it.
I was thinking about changing all my "days." Such as my anniversary day, xmas, quanza, mothers day, bdays (not the kids bdays), and every other "day" just because it would be a cleanse. Purge the holidays and ring in the new years when ever you want, I like it.
"I always wanted to be somebody but I should have been more specific"
"Take care of the down time and the up time will take care of itself." - Doonesbury Comic Strip Genius
"Enjoy every sandwich" last words from Warren Zevon
After hearing a short KKCR interview with the writer of the new book The Words of Others prompted this smattering of quotes:
Duke Ellington last words: "kisses, kisses, more kisses"
JFK: "Liberty without learning is always in peril learning without liberty is always in vain"
Herman Melville in Moby Dick: "Who ain't a slave, tell me that?"
Muddy Waters: "I ain't dying, but I ain't doing so good."
A mother telling her young daughter when she is in an argument with her husband says: "See honey, inside every handsome young man is and ugly old poop."
Lastly, referring to a promiscuous actress after she had recently passed away: "She sleeps at last."
I normally just build my site recommendations in the links area on the left. They are site that I find who are doing good in the world by informing us of important issues relating to something as small as your personal health to something as big as healing the planet. Here is a new link I just found and the name kind of says it all: http://www.goodguide.com/
A man with many hats doesn't like to wear a hat - This quote means that a man who has many interests, or businesses, is one who doesn't fit into one position. The many hats is the many interests or skills and the hat is the 9 to 5 singular job with no diversity, so don't wear the hat at all. Follow your bliss, or in this case, follow your blisses.
Aside from pedophile priests, denial to scientific facts, and other hideous things we see with the Catholic church, we still seem to think that organized religion is relatively harmless in modern terms. We all know about the conquests of past, like Cortez the killer, the slaughter of any indigenous peoples that don't conform to the Christian ideology but even in modern times religion has been used to kill huge amounts of innocents. This is a rather proving place to back up this very general claim:http://www.nobeliefs.com/Hitler1.htm
So the answer is to get yourself un-baptised and become pagan or a secular humanist as soon as possible.
#1 on Soul Mate Factoid:
Trust. How would you know you have trust. Send your wife into a bar full of Don Juans, Silver tonge devils, Casanovas and see her come home because she wants to tell you all about what a bunch of sad fools they are, hop into bed and make sweet love to you alone(or just talk the night away). Send your husband into a party of young college girls, some virgins, some strategic Jessibles, and let him come home and walk in with his rooster feathers standing proud, and say to you: he has eyes only for you. Then make love or talk. Simple soul mate love rule #1
This is not just rule #1 but rather it is the cardinal rule, the firs tamendment, the nucleusto your atom of true love. Without it you have some other form of human connection-not Soul Mate Love.
More on the way rule #2 coming soon------
BLISSTAP POETRY SECTION:
Sometimes things can be expressed in a quote or a slice of prose, but other times poetry is humankind's most exacting way of writing what is ineffable and natural. I like the way William Carlos Williams puts it:
“It is difficult to get the news from poems, yet men die miserably every day for lack of what is found there.”
This was said to be Abraham Lincoln's favorite poem. Upon reading it I am starting to feel that is is now my favorite poem:
Oh, why should the spirit of mortal be proud?
Like a swift-fleeting meteor, a fast-flying cloud,
A flash of the lightning, a break of the wave,
He passes from life to his rest in the grave.
The leaves of the oak and the willow shall fade,
Be scattered around, and together be laid;
And the young and the old, the low and the high,
Shall molder to dust, and together shall lie.
The infant a mother attended and loved;
The mother that infant's affection who proved;
The husband, that mother and infant who blessed;
Each, all, are away to their dwelling of rest.
The maid on whose cheek, on whose brow, in whose eye,
Shone beauty and pleasure - her triumphs are by;
And the memory of those who loved her and praised,
Are alike from the minds of the living erased.
The hand of the king that the sceptre hath borne,
The brow of the priest that the mitre hath worn,
The eye of the sage, and the heart of the brave,
Are hidden and lost in the depths of the grave.
The peasant, whose lot was to sow and to reap,
The herdsman, who climbed with his goats up the steep,
The beggar, who wandered in search of his bread,
Have faded away like the grass that we tread.
The saint, who enjoyed the communion of Heaven,
The sinner, who dared to remain unforgiven,
The wise and the foolish, the guilty and just,
Have quietly mingled their bones in the dust.
So the multitude goes - like the flower or the weed
That withers away to let others succeed;
So the multitude comes - even those we behold,
To repeat every tale that has often been told.
For we are the same that our fathers have been;
We see the same sights that our fathers have seen;
We drink the same stream, we feel the same sun,
And run the same course that our fathers have run.
The thoughts we are thinking, our fathers would think;
From the death we are shrinking, our fathers would shrink;
To the life we are clinging, they also would cling -
But it speeds from us all like a bird on the wing.
They loved - but the story we cannot unfold;
They scorned - but the heart of the haughty is cold;
They grieved - but no wail from their slumber will come;
They joyed - but the tongue of their gladness is dumb.
They died - aye, they died - we things that are now,
That walk on the turf that lies over their brow,
And make in their dwellings a transient abode,
Meet the things that they met on their pilgrimage road.
Yea, hope and despondency, pleasure and pain,
Are mingled together in sunshine and rain;
And the smile and the tear, the song and the dirge,
Still follow each other, like surge upon surge.
'Tis the wink of an eye - 'tis the draught of a breath -
From the blossom of health to the paleness of death,
From the gilded saloon to the bier and the shroud
Oh, why should the spirit of mortal be proud?
|Written by Administrator|
There are no translations available.
For those lucky enough to make it to the bottom of this page here is a smattering of some of my fav quotes from a random cast of characters. Please notify me if any normal people slipped in without me noticing.
I can believe that there's no heaven, but it kills me to think there's no he'll. -James Riley
I've always felt the "holy land" is the LARGEST outdoor lunatic asylum in the world. - Jonathan Miller, from his film A Brief History of Disbelief
The whole religious complexion of the modern world is due to the absence, from Jerusalem, of a lunatic asylum. - Havelock Ellis
Children today are tyrants, they contradict their parents, gobble their food, and tyrannize their teachers. - Socrates (470 BC)
outside every thin woman is a fat man trying to get in - Katherine Whitehorn
Living with a saint is more grueling then being one. - Robert Neville
Hemingway was a jerk - Harold Robbins(1916-1997)