Wednesday, January 17, 2018

Bill and Mary

Bill: Do I have any clean underwear?
Mary: I washed them and put them back on the floor where you left them.

Mary: Does this necklace go with these earrings?
Bill: I guess so. They’re both the same color.

Bill: Can we have Beef Wellington, garlic mashed potatoes and Caesar salad for supper tonight.
Mary: Sure, I’ll go get dressed.

Mary: Do you think Donald Trump would pay $10,000 to have sex with me?

Bill:

Tuesday, January 16, 2018

To truly love

To truly love someone, you must love them from the inside out.

Monday, January 15, 2018

Mysterious you

I’ve heard it said that each human being is as complex as the universe itself, and I’ve come to believe that.
Just try to figure yourself out. The evidence you have is memory, experience and images, all of which are extremely unreliable as they get lost in the fog of the past. Whatever does get figured out, when it gets figured out, is old news because you’ve moved, changing your way into the future.
Who you are also depends on all the people you got connected to. They are no more reliable than you are in unraveling your story.
So what to do? You are constantly making and remaking yourself in the moment, so be present in that moment. Leave a worthy mark. Be content with the fact that this simply means you are a mystery, a puzzle of thousands of pieces with some inevitably missing.

Sunday, January 14, 2018

The high-rise and the church

The highrise office buildings dwarf the church spires in any major American city. The office buildings get taller and taller in competition with one another. Church congregations get smaller as do their budgets, and for efficiency church buildings flatten out like pancakes. This is the reality, but what is the message?
As Joseph Campbell points out, in each age, the tallest buildings indicate who’s really in charge of the society. The temple, the monument, the government building, the church, the office building. The Pyramids, the Mayan temple, the Medieval cathedral, the Eiffel Tower, the Empire State Building.
In our time, it’s obviously the office building. Floor after floor of workers stacked on top of one another in little cubicles. At the top the expansive executive suites, proportionately larger than the cubicles as executive salaries are proportionately than worker salaries. The buildings, with their high atriums, reek of wealth, as do the entries to the tenant suites. They are all about competition and wealth. And the workers can’t wait to leave them.
The churches, with their spires, invite not competition, but aspiration. Their sooty interiors are filled with stories and symbols and smells and light scattering all over, pointing to enlightenment. Though fewer in number, those who enter want to be there, where the vertical trip requires no elevator and can actually get you where you need to go.

Saturday, January 13, 2018

Self-revelation #2 Underwear

Self-revelation #2 Underwear

Jockey shorts, speedo underwear, thongs are all too uncomfortable, and besides they would reveal too many of my sculpted body contours.
No over-priced Calvin Klein billboards on my nether regions. 

Colors and patterns are the most fun, and it’s boxers all the way.
If I anticipate being shot, stabbed, needing an appendectomy, getting hit by a car or otherwise ending up in the hospital, I wear a pair of my best. Reputation counts.
Cotton definitely, since they make the best paint rags in their second life.

The fuck screen

There are many people I know, especially young people, who don’t use their intelligence enough to realize what intelligence they have. One of the signs of this to me is what I call hiding behind the “fuck screen.” The fuck screen is something you consciously or unconsciously you employ by using fuck or its many derivatives in place of words that would be much more interesting, articulate, meaningful or provocative.
Take a conversation like this:
-How did you like that movie?
-It was fucking awesome.
-Yeah, fucking awesome man.
-That one scene blew my fucking mind.
-You mean the one where they fucked in the grass?
-Fuckin’ right, dude.
This is just a dirty-word, chit-chat, superficial conversation. Nothing intrinsically wrong with it, but it can too easily become habitual speech. The other thing is that it saps the power from “fuck,” which “fuck” truly deserves and was meant to have. And that’s a disservice to a word with real credentials.
If you suffer from fuck screen, my suggestion: Get out from behind it; go cold turkey for a week. No fucks (the word) for a week. See what you think. See if its power won’t be restored.

Friday, January 12, 2018

Oprah

With the “Oprah for President” discussion being bandied about, I thought it was important for me to start paying attention to the Oprah phenomenon. I happened to be waiting to meet some friends and saw a copy of the Oprah magazine on the table near me. So I picked it up and gave it a quick (admittedly rather superficial) look.
First, she is on every cover. On this one she was lounging in the sun. Every time her name was mentioned in the magazine, there was a picture of her. (She must spend a great deal of time preparing for and having photo shoots.) There were self-image and self-help articles, and some articles on social issues. No disturbing images related to those social issues, but nice pictures of the writers of the articles.
Advertising was, to me anyway, for products that would be expensive for the ordinary person—clothes, beauty products, d├ęcor items. Also noticeable was that the models in the ads were your standard, stare you down thin ladies. No body variety at all.
My observations. Admittedly quick. Just sayin’.