The Illimitable Ocean of Inexplicability

Month: July, 2015

The Powers that be won’t let us celebrate the year of The Varmint Trap

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New ideas pass through three periods: 1) It can’t be done. 2) It probably can be done, but it’s not worth doing. 3) I knew it was a good idea all along!

– Arthur C. Clarke

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Oh, Arthur. Arthur, Arthur, Arthur, what have I told you about misleading the folks?

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“Hell’s Bells, man”!

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The bells of hell go ting-a-ling-a-ling,
For you but not for me,
And the little devils how they sing-a-ling-a-ling,
For you but not for me.
Oh death, where is thy sting-a-ling-a-ling,
Oh grave, thy victory?
The bells of hell go ting-a-ling-a-ling
For you but not for me.

 

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“Hell’s Bells”

I exclaimed, followed quickly with, “man”, in reference to myself who was the only one there, which is, if one is familiar with the rules of this place, not at all surprising.

Why this should be I have asked myself, quietly, of course, for though no one else may be apparent there is always just outside the door, or below the window, but I cannot be bothered to look, so whispering is only prudent.

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“Social media is called social media for a reason. It lends itself to sharing rather than horn-tooting.”*

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.*Margaret Atwood

The President and Founder’s Assistant Snaps Pic of The Evil One’s Automobile!

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Here is wisdom. Let him that hath understanding count the number of the beast: for it is the number of a man; and his number is Six hundred threescore and six.

Revelation 13:18

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The Beast has a personal parking space, and he’s driving a gas guzzler!

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Ladies and Gentlemen: The Mighty Dragon of Uragudrar* is no more

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There is something feeble and a little contemptible about a man who cannot face the perils of life without the help of comfortable myths.

– Bertrand Russell

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babeArtist’s conception of Baby vanquishing The Mighty Dragon of Uragudrar

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Then ‘feeble’ I am and always shall be, Mr. Russell, if that be the handicap I must endure for believing the great hero, ‘Jack’, did destroy that cursed Dragon of Uragudrar. Happy shall I go along in the face of life’s perils when I can at will look upon the depiction above and with complete confidence say to myself and to those I love,

THE MIGHTY DRAGON OF URAGUDRAR IS NO MORE!

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* Pronounced: ‘Yer-uh-good-drawr’

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Give me that old time religion (it’s good enough for me)

 

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“Art is not a pastime but a priesthood”

– Jean Cocteau

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Jean sure wasn’t just whistlin’ Dixie!

And, as such (seeing as I am the High Priest of The Society for The Contemplative Process) I will be busy today meditating on ancient texts, so, if you’re going to ‘Like’ this post (which if you know what’s what you will) and then go rifling through the rest of the fabulous offerings to be enjoyed here within the Illimitable Ocean I’d appreciate it if you were quiet about it.

Thank you,

The President and Founder

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If you’re happy and you know it

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Do the basic clap. Open your hands and clap your palms against each other, with the fingers held up towards the sky. Do it hard enough to get a good loud smacking sound out of it, but not so hard you turn your hand red.

  • Some people clap more by clapping the fingers of one hand against the palm of the other. Do whatever feels most comfortable for you.

How to Clap Your Hands

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At the conclusion of the conference, a tribute to Comrade Stalin was called for. Of course, everyone stood up. … For three minutes, four minutes, five minutes, “the stormy applause, rising to an ovation,” continued. But palms were getting sore and raised arms were already aching. And the older people were panting from exhaustion. It was becoming insufferably silly even to those who really adored Stalin.

However, who would dare to be the first to stop? … After all, NKVD men were standing in the hall applauding and watching to see who would quit first! …

[The comrades] couldn’t stop now till they collapsed with heart attacks! At the rear of the hall, which was crowded, they could of course cheat a bit, clap less frequently, less vigorously, not so eagerly — but up there with the presidium where everyone could see them?

The director of the local paper factory, an independent and strong-minded man, stood with the presidium. Aware of all the falsity and all the impossibility of the situation, he still kept on applauding! Nine minutes! Ten! In anguish he watched the secretary of the District Party Committee, but the latter dared not stop. Insanity! To the last man! With make-believe enthusiasm on their faces, looking at each other with faint hope, the district leaders were just going to go on and on applauding till they fell where they stood, till they were carried out of the hall on stretchers! …

Then, after eleven minutes, the director of the paper factory assumed a businesslike expression and sat down in his seat. And, oh, a miracle took place! … To a man, everyone else stopped dead and sat down. They had been saved!

That same night the factory director was arrested. They easily pasted ten years on him. … After he had signed Form 206, the final document of the interrogation, his interrogator reminded him:

“Don’t ever be the first to stop applauding.”

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-Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn

The Gulag Archipelago (pp. 60-70)

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Could you?

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You can kill ten of our men for every one we kill of yours. But even at those odds, you will lose and we will win.

– Ho Chi Mihn

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Could you deal with the slope?

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Maybe you could, maybe you couldn’t, honestly, I have my doubts. No offense, not many could. Perhaps a handful. A specially chosen and well trained handful. They probably could, like I most definitely did. Got a T-shirt to prove it, motherfuckers.

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Sittin’ on the steps in the summertime

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I am (painfully) aware that there are some who cannot find the time to sit on the steps no matter what season it may be. This, of course, is unacceptable, and I would appreciate my acknowledgement of this be recorded in case I find myself in need of mentioning it later.

Below you will find a short bit of ‘free verse’ poetry I composed on the very steps pictured (obscurely, I admit) in the accompanying photo illustration.

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Swing swang swung

swung swang swing swung

swing swing swang

swang swing swung swing

swung swang swung swing swang

swing swang swung

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As it has been, as it shall always be (said the wizened elder)

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That which is hath been already; and that which is to be hath already been: and God seeketh again that which is passed away.

– Ecclisiastes 3:15

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I don’t know about you, but

I used to, not so long ago (in the grand scheme of things¹), have no time for anything anyone who could even remotely be thought of as a ‘wizened elder’ had to say on any given subject. Most of my revulsion (estimates range from anywhere between 60 and 90 percent) was based solely on the descriptor ‘wizened elder’ being easily used in reference to the one saying whatever it was they were saying. In other words, if someone was describing to me a situation in which they received, let’s say, some advice about some thing that was troubling them, and, quite rudely I admit, I interrupted them with the question, “Could you describe the person who offered this advice as a ‘wizened elder”?, and, though somewhat puzzled as well as wearing a most ridiculous expression upon their face, the person responded, “Why, yes, I do believe he (or her. Hers can be wizened elders, too!) was as you describe”, I would, without explanation, make a loud ‘harumph‘ and leave the company of this person swearing never to speak with them again.

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¹ ‘The Grand Scheme of Things’ is the title of an upcoming series of posts which will be sure to enlighten and entertain those willing to be subjected to that sort of thing. Keep your eyes peeled, it is coming soon, real soon.

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