What was once an almost imperceptible rumble may or may not have been there all along. To those paying attention to rumbles, those scratchings were already on the wall. It’s just a matter what attention is given. Many things are a concern. All the usual accoutrements of the American Scheme. Both purveyors and consumers. Some more than. Some less than. The claw of complicity claws rampant o’er the land. Once noticed, the volume of rumblings continues to climb. It fills every silence with it’s sticky content. That content grew bigger teeth. Fiercer talons. Now content is clawing at the door. At the window. Leaving marks on once impervious sensibilities. Ramparts of rationality. The claw of opinions. Things influencing both happy and sad events. Highly unlikely conspiracies. Rabbit holes that have no more bunnies to give and yet do. Claw back attention to things that influence circle encompasses. Ignore the outrage industrial complex. Try to do good where it can be done. Be kind or just be.
“Participate joyfully in the sorrows of the world. We cannot cure the world of sorrows, but we can choose to live in joy. The warrior’s approach is to say “yes” to life: “yea” to it all.”
History is filled with examples of one Alien Nation accumulating and acquiring the stuff of another Alien Nation by any means necessary. (i.e. by hook or by crook) When everybody is an Alien, nobody is. The coagulation of Aliens into Nations is where the real mischief commenced. One bunch of Aliens would begin to alienate another bunch of Aliens. So instead of unum ad unum alienation, it became a “We’re not the aliens, you are.” assignation alienation. So it has been and will continue to be until the Space Invaders arrive, or when us Aliens become the Space Invaders elsewhere. That’s when the real results on this alienation algorithm will reveal itself to all who can or care to see. In the meantime….
She seemed to embody empowerment. Queen of all she surveyed. Her professional name was Terra Cotta. She dominated the realm of reality entertainments. The public set their internal compasses with Terra being their true north. Whatever whim she chose at whatever moment she chose would set trends spiraling towards her fancy. But Terra never acknowledged she had feet of clay. One fateful day she decided that clay shoes would be the fashion statement of the decade. But when she placed her feet of clay into her shoes of clay and added heat she became stagnant and unable to motivate. In motion or influence. Her once adoring fans began to drift away leaving her alone on her terracotta pedestal. No longer adored. Just ignored like a lump of clay.
A few of the time things I have blogged about in the past. They seemed to make sense to me in the past. But at this time I am not so sure. One thing is for sure. Times Up!
me
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OVER TIME
¯\_(☯෴☯)_/¯
I would no doubt use it as I have used time in the past. Extra time for making a to-do-list of things I want to get done but never seem to do. Stacking things that used to be stacked there and stack them “ober by der” as we say here in Chiraq. Consuming more things than I need to consume. More still now that I have this extra sixty minutes. Maybe watch “60 Minutes”. That hasn’t made it back onto my endless television consumption regatta. Extra time to not eliminating enough of the things I should have been eliminating for years but never did. I did get them off my to-do-list. Speaking of getting off, I would not reproduce anymore. I have reproduced enough, but may fill those sixty minutes doing what we humans do to reproduce without fear of the base fruit result of my burning lust. All the sixty minutes I have accumulated over my life span has allowed me that benefit of being chronologically adept.
I hope.
But mostly I would spend those sixty minutes being suspicious that there really hasn’t been an additional sixty minutes added to the earths rotation. Just a re-sizing of the unit of measurement. Kind of like the fun size candy bar. So I would spend that interminable perceived added time searching conspiracy sites on the internets to see just how we had been fooled again.
Note: The crux of the biscuit is the missing apostrophe
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THE CEMENT SHOES OF TIME
I have a friend I have known since childhood. Our bond is the bond that only time can bind
The likelihood that our paths would even cross today is highly unlikely. I have no doubt our first encounter would be cordial, jocular, and entertaining. But it could never be the same relationship shared experiences have wrought.
I would have it no other way.
You can thank the brevity of this post on being typed on my phone.
Even though this post is a retrospective on past musings, it still took me some time to put this post together so I hope I get some here and now points for this. But if you walk away feeling….
Why yes. Yes I am a cereal offender. Worse yet I was a cereal eater. I confess. I have mixed Coco Puffs with Fruity Pebbles. I’ve cut Fruit Loops with Rice Krinkles. I’ve snapped crackled and popped into my bowl Sugar Smacks on street corners and dank alleyways of my town. Even licked the frog for an extra jolt. It was GREAT!!!!. That was until I got Apple Jacked one cold and rainy night in an gangway So I sailed with Captain Crunch to Toucan Sam’s tropical island and have even stolen a leprechaun’s magically delicious Lucky Charms.
I am a serial cereal offender.
But I have seen the light. Now I resided on Keto Island, where Keto and I fight crime. Well Keto fights crime. I just sus things out and he drives. I am The Green Honey Comb. Bwah Ha Ha
A Scroll Threw Life 