Posts
Recently it had occurred to me that other than work and reading when I have time I do not have any hobbies. I do eat and watch TV but I don't really consider those as hobbies. I considered collecting coins and stamps but I found the idea of doing so boring. Besides my reading vision is constantly getting worse and these hobbies would cause a great deal of eye strain.
I remembered when my wife, Ilana, used to crochet she was very happy, calm and relaxed. She would take her little wicker basket, grab her little crochet needle, unroll her little project and start to crochet. Yes. she was very happy indeed. She crochetted (I don't know if this is grammatically correct) bear rugs for the kids, scarves, hats, toilet paper covers, mittens, tapestries and blankets.
That is the kind of hobby I need. If Rosie Greer could knit, I could crochet. If anyone reading this does not know who Rosie Greer was, he was one of the greatest linemen who had played for the New York Jets in the 60's. Rosie was not the robot maid of the Jetsons. If you don't know who the Jetsons will be (they won't be born for another 1000 years), look it up. I got a skein of yarn, a needle and started to crochet. After twenty minutes what I had was an unrecognizable ball of knotted up yarn. Ilana said I could take a class but I vowed never to go back to school so that was a dead issue.
I thought deep. I thought hard. After weeks of thinking I glanced over at an empty box that had some items I received from Amazon and I came up with the perfect hobby. Bubble Wrap.
So now, I come home from work, eat dinner and then when I relax I take out my basket of bubble wrap, seek out a particular sheet that inspires me, unroll and start popping the bubbles. At first I popped them lineally vertical and then horizontal. After a few weeks I became proficient enough to do them diagonally. After a month or two I was able to pop out portraits of presidents. I was so happy. It brought my blood pressure down and it had elevated me to a level of karmic bliss. I could even do it in the bathroom and if it got soiled it is easy to clean!
Unfortunately my hobby did not sit well with my family members. My daughter ripped the bubble wrap out of my hands and said that the constant sound of the bursting bubbles was annoying. Ilana raised the volume of the television, my son made it a point not to come home until he was sure I was asleep and my dog urinated on my basket od bubble wrap. I think it was the dog but I would not put this past my son.
I came home one night and found my entire collection of bubble wrap and my bubble wrap version of Picasso's Guernica missing. I searched the garbage pails but alas I could not find it. The masses had spoke. They were not happy with my choice of hobby. Now I am back to square one and have to devise a new hobby. I am currently trying to combine a Tuba with a bubble solution reservoir and bought a collection of Lawrence Welk CDs. Who knows. I have a little less than four more years before I retire. I think that this can turn into a second career.
Saturday, November 19, 2011
Monday, October 10, 2011
Resistance is Futile
One of the great moments in television history was when the Starship Voyager met the Borg for the first time in the episode "Q Who?". The ultimate outcome of machine/human integration was not presented as an appealing forecast of the future. The six million dollar man showed the benefits of such integration, but left unchecked Lee Majors could have had metal projections and wires sticking out of his face and bodily cavities. But the 1960's was an ominous time with a nuclear threat over our heads. Hiroshima was only 20 years earlier and we didn't believe we would live to see the next millenium. We all wanted to see a rosy outlook for the future and believed that technology was a good thing and held the seeds for world peace and an end to starvation and disease. We wanted to forget the horrors and evils that technology could bring if left to it's own course.
While not quite the visionary that Steve Jobs was (see note), I do predict the integration of computer chips into our neural network which will allow us to communicate and surf the web without any external equipment and this will be very evident within the next ten years. We will be bluetoothed!
I have done my part to keep this integration with the world wide web at bay by not getting a cell phone when they were marketed to the general public. What's wrong with using public phones? I caved due to peer pressure and bought an Omnipoint phone manufactured by Ericcson. My fight had escalated to the next level and I had vowed to not buying a smart phone. What's wrong with a phone that just makes phone calls? Who needs a phone that can socially network with other people, hold 5000 albums of music, your entire life story in photos and film clips and allow you to effortlessly send and receive email and text messages? No not me, I do not need to be that connected.
It started so innocently. I was at home bored to death and I put myself on Facebook. This was pretty cool. Instantly I am connected to dozens of people I know. I am now aware of where they are, what they ate for dinner, what they're doing, and who they are doing it to. I was amazed at how easy it is to socialize through this method. Before I knew it I was connected to hundreds or people and if I wanted I could connect to thousands of people.
Not being satisfied with the limitations of telling everyone what I am doing on Facebook, I took the next step and started to write a blog which is what your are currently reading, If you're not reading this you are not missing much, at least that's what some people tell me. Now I have unlimited space to express my beliefs and opinions and to write things that can be deep or incoherent, or both. So here I am baring my inner most throughts and secrets to all (except for the stuff that can get me in trouble), by the way I really enjoy my job and my bosses and must admit they are doing wonderful work and are excellent leaders.
Both of my children moved up to iphones and this has turned out to be a wonderful thing. They spend so much time being connected to the cyber-social world (the collective) that they have been a pleasure to live with. They do not have the time to find fault with me and criticize the choices I have made in life. They are happy. Everyone is happy!
Something's wrong. I am not as happy as I should be. Given that I am a depressed introvert, only have a number of friends that I can count on half a hand (if I had a finger amputated) and generally do not like other people, I can't understand why I am not happy living in my little house, in my little world consisting of three million people within an area of 70 square miles (I had to throw something in about Brooklyn after all Brooklyn is the basis of my blog). What is making my kids happy that I don't have? Youth? Good looks? Cheap room and board? Then it occurred to me. I do not have a smart phone.
Four weeks ago I bought an HTC Trophy Windows 7 phone. My kids had iphones but I couldn't cave in completely by getting the same phone they had. I chose the Windows phone. It was also $25.00 extra as opposed to the $199.99 to $249.99 Verizon charges for the iphone with a two year contract (I prefer to be called frugal instead of cheap). I did my research. The reviews for the phone where overwhelmingly positive. I am also positive that Bill Gates is using one instead of an iphone.
The first two weeks I had the phone I was adding apps, surfing the web, perusing Facebook, sending text messages and watching Netflix until 2:00 AM in the morning. It has occurred to me that the combined knowledge of every person alive or who has ever lived is now at my fingertips. The WWW makes the legendary Library of Alexandria look like a 1st grade primer. I can convert fahrenheit to celsius, acres to hectares, ounces to drams, see a satellite view of Toldedo, Ohio or Toledo, Spain from the comfort of my mattress. I can see the entire cast of Star Trek and read their resumes and see their head shots whenever I get a notion to do so, wherever I am.
Resistance is futile. As Matthew Broderick said in The Producers, "Stop the world! I want to get on". I can't wait to get implanted and join the collective. Typing on a virtual keyboard is so limiting. The Borg may have lousy complexions and have hardware and attennas sticking out of their bodies (which probably gets in the way of sex but with virtual pornography available who needs physical sex?) but you can tell they are as happy as a bug in a rug.
Note: This blog is dedicated to Steve Jobs, CEO of Apple, who passed away this week at too young of an age. He was a brilliant visionary and will go down in history as one of the greatest innovators who has ever lived. My comparison of myself to Steve Jobs as a visionary was satirical in nature. Imagine what he would have brought to being if he had lived another 40 years.
While not quite the visionary that Steve Jobs was (see note), I do predict the integration of computer chips into our neural network which will allow us to communicate and surf the web without any external equipment and this will be very evident within the next ten years. We will be bluetoothed!
I have done my part to keep this integration with the world wide web at bay by not getting a cell phone when they were marketed to the general public. What's wrong with using public phones? I caved due to peer pressure and bought an Omnipoint phone manufactured by Ericcson. My fight had escalated to the next level and I had vowed to not buying a smart phone. What's wrong with a phone that just makes phone calls? Who needs a phone that can socially network with other people, hold 5000 albums of music, your entire life story in photos and film clips and allow you to effortlessly send and receive email and text messages? No not me, I do not need to be that connected.
It started so innocently. I was at home bored to death and I put myself on Facebook. This was pretty cool. Instantly I am connected to dozens of people I know. I am now aware of where they are, what they ate for dinner, what they're doing, and who they are doing it to. I was amazed at how easy it is to socialize through this method. Before I knew it I was connected to hundreds or people and if I wanted I could connect to thousands of people.
Not being satisfied with the limitations of telling everyone what I am doing on Facebook, I took the next step and started to write a blog which is what your are currently reading, If you're not reading this you are not missing much, at least that's what some people tell me. Now I have unlimited space to express my beliefs and opinions and to write things that can be deep or incoherent, or both. So here I am baring my inner most throughts and secrets to all (except for the stuff that can get me in trouble), by the way I really enjoy my job and my bosses and must admit they are doing wonderful work and are excellent leaders.
Both of my children moved up to iphones and this has turned out to be a wonderful thing. They spend so much time being connected to the cyber-social world (the collective) that they have been a pleasure to live with. They do not have the time to find fault with me and criticize the choices I have made in life. They are happy. Everyone is happy!
Something's wrong. I am not as happy as I should be. Given that I am a depressed introvert, only have a number of friends that I can count on half a hand (if I had a finger amputated) and generally do not like other people, I can't understand why I am not happy living in my little house, in my little world consisting of three million people within an area of 70 square miles (I had to throw something in about Brooklyn after all Brooklyn is the basis of my blog). What is making my kids happy that I don't have? Youth? Good looks? Cheap room and board? Then it occurred to me. I do not have a smart phone.
Four weeks ago I bought an HTC Trophy Windows 7 phone. My kids had iphones but I couldn't cave in completely by getting the same phone they had. I chose the Windows phone. It was also $25.00 extra as opposed to the $199.99 to $249.99 Verizon charges for the iphone with a two year contract (I prefer to be called frugal instead of cheap). I did my research. The reviews for the phone where overwhelmingly positive. I am also positive that Bill Gates is using one instead of an iphone.
The first two weeks I had the phone I was adding apps, surfing the web, perusing Facebook, sending text messages and watching Netflix until 2:00 AM in the morning. It has occurred to me that the combined knowledge of every person alive or who has ever lived is now at my fingertips. The WWW makes the legendary Library of Alexandria look like a 1st grade primer. I can convert fahrenheit to celsius, acres to hectares, ounces to drams, see a satellite view of Toldedo, Ohio or Toledo, Spain from the comfort of my mattress. I can see the entire cast of Star Trek and read their resumes and see their head shots whenever I get a notion to do so, wherever I am.
Resistance is futile. As Matthew Broderick said in The Producers, "Stop the world! I want to get on". I can't wait to get implanted and join the collective. Typing on a virtual keyboard is so limiting. The Borg may have lousy complexions and have hardware and attennas sticking out of their bodies (which probably gets in the way of sex but with virtual pornography available who needs physical sex?) but you can tell they are as happy as a bug in a rug.
Note: This blog is dedicated to Steve Jobs, CEO of Apple, who passed away this week at too young of an age. He was a brilliant visionary and will go down in history as one of the greatest innovators who has ever lived. My comparison of myself to Steve Jobs as a visionary was satirical in nature. Imagine what he would have brought to being if he had lived another 40 years.
Sunday, July 17, 2011
The World is a Stage
In 1099 Will Shakespeare and William the Conqueror took the chunnel from Normandy invading England with their corpulent wit and charm and co-penned many plays, novels and television scripts. England was never the same again. Until that point the main form of entertainment in the British Isles were Druid human sacrifices and an occasional Roman orgy.
In 1664 John Smith and his brother came to the New World selling cough drops when Jeremiah Smith was inspired by the beauty of John's sixteen year old girl friend, Pocohontas, and decided to start a theater troupe in Virginia. Their success quickly became a national phenomena among the colonists and native americans. The troupe soon moved to Provincetown, Massachussetts and then on to the great white man way... Plymouth in late November. At the Plymouth Plantation Theater the Smith brothers introduced a new innovation, a show and a turkey dinner. Dinner theater was born.
Since then New York City has become the theater capital of the western world (at least on this side of the Pond) showing dozens of formula musicals and comedies requiring families to take second mortgages to see a show and treat the kiddies to McDonald's. Fortunately, NYC is also home to hundreds of off Broadway, off-off Broadway and so far off Broadway that you are in Brooklyn shows. I frequently find shows through the Smarttix website which is the sales venue for many of these theatrical troupes. The ticket prices are very often cheaper than a movie ticket and usually more entertaining and substantial.
There are many talented playwrights, actors and innovators who call NYC home and due to this you will usually see an outstanding individual performance even if the total performance is mediocre. Over the last few years we saw a marvelous drama set in Ireland (The Pagans), a musical set around the final years of Mark Twain (where the cast of four almost outnumbered the audience), A greek tragedy set in the antebellum south (Medea/Ma Deah), a Korean percussion performance set as a kitchen comedy (think Three Stooges meets Hells Kitchen with drums) and Broadway's Next Big Hit (an outstanding improvisational group that creates a Broadway Musical from audience song suggestions).
Last night we saw a performance at the Under St. Mark's theater of a radio reading of two of H.P. Lovecraft's stories The Call of Cthulhu and Reanimator. The performance included two very talented actor/readers, smoke and lights going on and off. I enjoy Mr. Lovecraft's stories and was looking forward to watching a re-creation (or should I say a re-animation) of an old time radio broadcast. Both actors were wonderful but I was dissappointed that Radio Theater did not manually re-create the sound effects that were employed in creating the radio dramas of yesteryear. The sound effects and music were sadly pre-recorded.
I wanted to name the two actors but unforunately I cannot find the program to do so. As there are only five or six readers of my blog I don't believe this omission will have any profound impact on their careers. All in all I enjoyed the reading anyway (as a reading and not as a radio show). Ilana fought to stay awake. It may have been better if they threw in a turkey dinner.
In 1664 John Smith and his brother came to the New World selling cough drops when Jeremiah Smith was inspired by the beauty of John's sixteen year old girl friend, Pocohontas, and decided to start a theater troupe in Virginia. Their success quickly became a national phenomena among the colonists and native americans. The troupe soon moved to Provincetown, Massachussetts and then on to the great white man way... Plymouth in late November. At the Plymouth Plantation Theater the Smith brothers introduced a new innovation, a show and a turkey dinner. Dinner theater was born.
Since then New York City has become the theater capital of the western world (at least on this side of the Pond) showing dozens of formula musicals and comedies requiring families to take second mortgages to see a show and treat the kiddies to McDonald's. Fortunately, NYC is also home to hundreds of off Broadway, off-off Broadway and so far off Broadway that you are in Brooklyn shows. I frequently find shows through the Smarttix website which is the sales venue for many of these theatrical troupes. The ticket prices are very often cheaper than a movie ticket and usually more entertaining and substantial.
There are many talented playwrights, actors and innovators who call NYC home and due to this you will usually see an outstanding individual performance even if the total performance is mediocre. Over the last few years we saw a marvelous drama set in Ireland (The Pagans), a musical set around the final years of Mark Twain (where the cast of four almost outnumbered the audience), A greek tragedy set in the antebellum south (Medea/Ma Deah), a Korean percussion performance set as a kitchen comedy (think Three Stooges meets Hells Kitchen with drums) and Broadway's Next Big Hit (an outstanding improvisational group that creates a Broadway Musical from audience song suggestions).
Last night we saw a performance at the Under St. Mark's theater of a radio reading of two of H.P. Lovecraft's stories The Call of Cthulhu and Reanimator. The performance included two very talented actor/readers, smoke and lights going on and off. I enjoy Mr. Lovecraft's stories and was looking forward to watching a re-creation (or should I say a re-animation) of an old time radio broadcast. Both actors were wonderful but I was dissappointed that Radio Theater did not manually re-create the sound effects that were employed in creating the radio dramas of yesteryear. The sound effects and music were sadly pre-recorded.
I wanted to name the two actors but unforunately I cannot find the program to do so. As there are only five or six readers of my blog I don't believe this omission will have any profound impact on their careers. All in all I enjoyed the reading anyway (as a reading and not as a radio show). Ilana fought to stay awake. It may have been better if they threw in a turkey dinner.
Saturday, April 16, 2011
On Being Faithful
When I look at myself in my mirror I am disgusted at what I see. I have heard this from others but this feeling of disgust comes from a different place. The face that stares back at me reminds me of my indiscretion. I believe it will take a month or two to get over this feeling but I am also sure that my wonderful wife will always wonder if she can ever trust me again.
After nearly 30 years of marriage to the most wonderful person I had ever known, my lover, best friend, trusted confidant, mother of my children. I had strayed. It happened so innocently I can hardly beilieve it had happened at all.
Last Thursday, I was home from work due to a morning appointment for me and a veterinarian appointment (for Lady, my cute little pooch) in the afternoon. I was driving home from the first appointment and had four hours to kill before the next appointment when I had passed Ariel. I couldn't resist the temptation, pulled into the nearest parking space and proceeded to commit the act that had changed the face of my relationship with Ilana.
I had let someone cut my hair other than my wife.
I walked into the barber shop, Ariel's, smelled the hair product, shaving cream, aftershave, hair spray, disinfectant and the other manly vapors that permeated the atmosphere of this manly lair. My hormones went ballistic and I was hooked. I had asked if they could fit me in and they invited me to sit in a chair that goes up and down and swivels. I stripped down to my underwear and the stylist said "Why are you taking off your clothes?"
I said "Doesn't everybody?" I always strip down to my civies so as not to get hair spinters on my clothes and then I could jump right into the shower. He said "Put your clothes back on. What the hell is wrong with you? There are children here! Look, that kid over there is crying". The kid was crying to his mother "Damn my eyes! Mommy please take me home. NOW!"
I put back on the clothes and explained that I had my hair cut at home for nearly 30 years and thought that it was requisite practice to remove your clothes before getting a hair cut. He rolled his eyes and mumbled something in Hebrew as I sat down in the chair. I twirled the chair around twice. It doesn't get more fun than that!.
When I first married Ilana, I was working for the Welbilt Stove Company as a service technician and traveled through the Bronx and Westchester on my usual route. My vehicle did not have air conditioning and that summer my hair was always a sweaty, oily mess by the time I had got home. One afternoon on a particularly hot and humid day I came home utterly distressed and said that I was going to shave my hair off completely.
Ilana's green eyes lit up and she said, "Can I cut it?" At first I had said, "No way! What if you do a poor job and leave some bald spots?" She responded, "You're going to shave it off anyway. If I mess it up you can always go that route". Impeccable logic. I married a pretty smart woman!
She cut my hair and left three bald spots but the haircut was otherwise pretty, pretty good. The next time she had cut my hair there was only two bald spots. With each succesive hair cut she got really good at it and only drew blood from my ears three or four times after that. Yes, those where happy times. Everything was alright in the world.
Until I strayed.
As I left Ariel's it had occurred to me that I will not be able to hide this betrayal when I pick up Ilana from work. Should I wear a hat? No, that will only postpone the inevitable. Maybe she won't notice and my hair will grow out and she will never find out. I was waiting in front of Ilana's work place and saw her walking to the car with a lovely smile on her face. She sat in the car, gave me a hello kiss and asked how the Vet appointment went. I started to drive off. She didn't notice. Alright I am home free!
Five minutes went by. "YOU CUT YOUR HAIR!" she yelled. "After 30 years you went to someone else!" Busted. What could I do now? Do I lie? Do I try to place the blame on her? I decided not to make up a flimsy lie like, "No. It must be your imagination" or follow the other strategy, "What did you expect? I had asked you last week and you said you had a headache."
No, I couldn't do that to her. Knowing I had strayed placed a heavy toll on my heart I could never compound that by further hurting her feelings or making her doubt her hair cutting skills.
I will have to live with this. Like it or not and I will make amends to restore her trust in me. Before I go to a dentist I will clear it with her first. Maybe that home dental kit I had bought for her 27 years ago was not a great idea.
After nearly 30 years of marriage to the most wonderful person I had ever known, my lover, best friend, trusted confidant, mother of my children. I had strayed. It happened so innocently I can hardly beilieve it had happened at all.
Last Thursday, I was home from work due to a morning appointment for me and a veterinarian appointment (for Lady, my cute little pooch) in the afternoon. I was driving home from the first appointment and had four hours to kill before the next appointment when I had passed Ariel. I couldn't resist the temptation, pulled into the nearest parking space and proceeded to commit the act that had changed the face of my relationship with Ilana.
I had let someone cut my hair other than my wife.
I walked into the barber shop, Ariel's, smelled the hair product, shaving cream, aftershave, hair spray, disinfectant and the other manly vapors that permeated the atmosphere of this manly lair. My hormones went ballistic and I was hooked. I had asked if they could fit me in and they invited me to sit in a chair that goes up and down and swivels. I stripped down to my underwear and the stylist said "Why are you taking off your clothes?"
I said "Doesn't everybody?" I always strip down to my civies so as not to get hair spinters on my clothes and then I could jump right into the shower. He said "Put your clothes back on. What the hell is wrong with you? There are children here! Look, that kid over there is crying". The kid was crying to his mother "Damn my eyes! Mommy please take me home. NOW!"
I put back on the clothes and explained that I had my hair cut at home for nearly 30 years and thought that it was requisite practice to remove your clothes before getting a hair cut. He rolled his eyes and mumbled something in Hebrew as I sat down in the chair. I twirled the chair around twice. It doesn't get more fun than that!.
When I first married Ilana, I was working for the Welbilt Stove Company as a service technician and traveled through the Bronx and Westchester on my usual route. My vehicle did not have air conditioning and that summer my hair was always a sweaty, oily mess by the time I had got home. One afternoon on a particularly hot and humid day I came home utterly distressed and said that I was going to shave my hair off completely.
Ilana's green eyes lit up and she said, "Can I cut it?" At first I had said, "No way! What if you do a poor job and leave some bald spots?" She responded, "You're going to shave it off anyway. If I mess it up you can always go that route". Impeccable logic. I married a pretty smart woman!
She cut my hair and left three bald spots but the haircut was otherwise pretty, pretty good. The next time she had cut my hair there was only two bald spots. With each succesive hair cut she got really good at it and only drew blood from my ears three or four times after that. Yes, those where happy times. Everything was alright in the world.
Until I strayed.
As I left Ariel's it had occurred to me that I will not be able to hide this betrayal when I pick up Ilana from work. Should I wear a hat? No, that will only postpone the inevitable. Maybe she won't notice and my hair will grow out and she will never find out. I was waiting in front of Ilana's work place and saw her walking to the car with a lovely smile on her face. She sat in the car, gave me a hello kiss and asked how the Vet appointment went. I started to drive off. She didn't notice. Alright I am home free!
Five minutes went by. "YOU CUT YOUR HAIR!" she yelled. "After 30 years you went to someone else!" Busted. What could I do now? Do I lie? Do I try to place the blame on her? I decided not to make up a flimsy lie like, "No. It must be your imagination" or follow the other strategy, "What did you expect? I had asked you last week and you said you had a headache."
No, I couldn't do that to her. Knowing I had strayed placed a heavy toll on my heart I could never compound that by further hurting her feelings or making her doubt her hair cutting skills.
I will have to live with this. Like it or not and I will make amends to restore her trust in me. Before I go to a dentist I will clear it with her first. Maybe that home dental kit I had bought for her 27 years ago was not a great idea.
Saturday, January 1, 2011
My Philosophy Revisited
Philosphy, a word originating in ancient Greece, meaning the "love of reasoning".
When I attended Brooklyn College one of the required courses was an introduction to philosphy. Our final project was to write a ten page term paper detailing our personal philosophy and beliefs. Professor Taylor returned my paper a week later with a big red D and wrote that my philosophy was bullshit.
"Bullshit" is the academic term used by highly educated people who do not have the ability to comprehend the views of other people that are believed to be their intellectual inferiors. I have had many discussions with people who have PhDs who believe they are experts in every single facet of life. The degree of PhD means that the person who was awarded that degree is highly proficient in the field that the PhD was awarded in. This means that they are as stupid as the rest of us in every other field.
Okay, enough of the preliminary stuff. I will now get back to my philosophy and I will begin with a question ... What is the largest living organism on this planet? You may say the largest organism on this planet is the mighty blue whale. Or you may not. Unless you said mushroom, you would be wrong. The mushroom cap that you see sprouting from the forest floor is only the reproductive organ of the fungus organism. The entire organism includes the fileal network attaching the mushrooms caps to the entire "network".
Scientists have concluded through genetic testing that the mushroom caps in one part of the forest whose name does not come to mind, was genetically identical to the caps in another part of the forest several miles away. Therefore the cap was part of the same organism that sprouted the cap in the other part of the forest. In conclusion, this was one organism that spreads out many miles and with further analysis it was estimated that the entire organism actually weighed several hundred tons.
Now that I have laid the framework for the basis of my philosphy; and yes, I love mushrooms sauteed with onions (which has actually no relation with my philosophy, unless these were hallucinogenic mushrooms); I will proceed with explaining my philosophy and when I conclude with this I am hoping to start the next scientology cult. Donations will be accepted. Make the checks out to Cash.
Through the study of quantuum mechanics, and I do believe that all mechanics overcharge, the nature of reality is starting to be questioned. When those of us 40 years of age and over, went to school there was matter and there was energy. It now appears that matter is only a phase of energy and energy can be a particle or a wave and the same particle can exist here and across the universe or in another dimension at the same time. We grew up in a universe with three dimensions and were dumbfounded when they said Time was the fourth dimension. In the last 40 years we are now up to eleven. Holy crap! No wonder the generation of our children and grandchildren is so screwed up. We were all on drugs in the 60's and 70's and even under a hallucinogenic, LSD induced stupor, our existence was more comprehendable.
I actually believe in this stuff. The Shroedinger's cat theory was kind of cool. Essentially what Schroedinger theorized was that when the cat is in the box, it is neither alive or dead. It may exist or it may not. I still don't know what this has to do with a kid from the Charlie Brown comic strip, but this is a dynamic kick in the head! This leaves us to question what existence really is.
I know.
There is only one intelligence in this universe and it is not a man or a woman with a long white beard that smites people just for the hell of it. This is a universal intelligence that everything in the universe is a part of. There is no reality. Reality is what the intelligence percieves.
We do not actually exist. We are not only manufactures of that intelligence, we are that intelligence. There is no YOU and there is no ME. There is only I. This intelligence has always existed and has always been alone. Just as a person placed in an isolation tank for several weeks begins to hallucinate and create an alternate reality, this intelligence has had much time to create it's own delusions and realities. We are all one and part of this universal intelligence. I call this the FORCE on steroids. This also explains why the world is so screwed up.
So, in reality, as per my philosophy, Professor Taylor did not give me a grade of D. I gave it to myself. I am writing this blog for me because you do not actually exist and are not really reading this blog. When my keys are not on the table and suddenly they are, it is because they did not actually exist before I brought them into being again. This has some serious emotional overtones and I would seek the help of a therapist if only one really existed.
I am much happier now. I no longer pay my mortgage or any other bills, I can eat whatever I want because my physical body does not actually exist. I love my philosopy and I know you will too!
I wonder if there are any side effects of these new pills the doctor gave me.
Getting back to those donations, even though you do not exist, send them anyway in case I am wrong.
When I attended Brooklyn College one of the required courses was an introduction to philosphy. Our final project was to write a ten page term paper detailing our personal philosophy and beliefs. Professor Taylor returned my paper a week later with a big red D and wrote that my philosophy was bullshit.
"Bullshit" is the academic term used by highly educated people who do not have the ability to comprehend the views of other people that are believed to be their intellectual inferiors. I have had many discussions with people who have PhDs who believe they are experts in every single facet of life. The degree of PhD means that the person who was awarded that degree is highly proficient in the field that the PhD was awarded in. This means that they are as stupid as the rest of us in every other field.
Okay, enough of the preliminary stuff. I will now get back to my philosophy and I will begin with a question ... What is the largest living organism on this planet? You may say the largest organism on this planet is the mighty blue whale. Or you may not. Unless you said mushroom, you would be wrong. The mushroom cap that you see sprouting from the forest floor is only the reproductive organ of the fungus organism. The entire organism includes the fileal network attaching the mushrooms caps to the entire "network".
Scientists have concluded through genetic testing that the mushroom caps in one part of the forest whose name does not come to mind, was genetically identical to the caps in another part of the forest several miles away. Therefore the cap was part of the same organism that sprouted the cap in the other part of the forest. In conclusion, this was one organism that spreads out many miles and with further analysis it was estimated that the entire organism actually weighed several hundred tons.
Now that I have laid the framework for the basis of my philosphy; and yes, I love mushrooms sauteed with onions (which has actually no relation with my philosophy, unless these were hallucinogenic mushrooms); I will proceed with explaining my philosophy and when I conclude with this I am hoping to start the next scientology cult. Donations will be accepted. Make the checks out to Cash.
Through the study of quantuum mechanics, and I do believe that all mechanics overcharge, the nature of reality is starting to be questioned. When those of us 40 years of age and over, went to school there was matter and there was energy. It now appears that matter is only a phase of energy and energy can be a particle or a wave and the same particle can exist here and across the universe or in another dimension at the same time. We grew up in a universe with three dimensions and were dumbfounded when they said Time was the fourth dimension. In the last 40 years we are now up to eleven. Holy crap! No wonder the generation of our children and grandchildren is so screwed up. We were all on drugs in the 60's and 70's and even under a hallucinogenic, LSD induced stupor, our existence was more comprehendable.
I actually believe in this stuff. The Shroedinger's cat theory was kind of cool. Essentially what Schroedinger theorized was that when the cat is in the box, it is neither alive or dead. It may exist or it may not. I still don't know what this has to do with a kid from the Charlie Brown comic strip, but this is a dynamic kick in the head! This leaves us to question what existence really is.
I know.
There is only one intelligence in this universe and it is not a man or a woman with a long white beard that smites people just for the hell of it. This is a universal intelligence that everything in the universe is a part of. There is no reality. Reality is what the intelligence percieves.
We do not actually exist. We are not only manufactures of that intelligence, we are that intelligence. There is no YOU and there is no ME. There is only I. This intelligence has always existed and has always been alone. Just as a person placed in an isolation tank for several weeks begins to hallucinate and create an alternate reality, this intelligence has had much time to create it's own delusions and realities. We are all one and part of this universal intelligence. I call this the FORCE on steroids. This also explains why the world is so screwed up.
So, in reality, as per my philosophy, Professor Taylor did not give me a grade of D. I gave it to myself. I am writing this blog for me because you do not actually exist and are not really reading this blog. When my keys are not on the table and suddenly they are, it is because they did not actually exist before I brought them into being again. This has some serious emotional overtones and I would seek the help of a therapist if only one really existed.
I am much happier now. I no longer pay my mortgage or any other bills, I can eat whatever I want because my physical body does not actually exist. I love my philosopy and I know you will too!
I wonder if there are any side effects of these new pills the doctor gave me.
Getting back to those donations, even though you do not exist, send them anyway in case I am wrong.
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