And now, the Dr. Suess Bible!

One day God said
This is what I will do
I’ll send down my son
I’ll send him to you
To clear up this humpity
Bumpity hulabaloo

His name will be Christ
And he’ll never wear shoes
And his pals will all call
Him the King of the Jews

He didn’t come in a plane
He didn’t come in a jeep
He didn’t come in the pouch
Of a high jumping vo veep

He rode on the back of a black sasatoo
Which is the blackiest creature
You ever could view

He rode to Jerusalem
Home of the grumpity Jews
Where false prophets are worshipped
Some even in two’s

There was Murrary Von Mer
And Genghis Vo Vooze
The one you could worship
By taking a snooze

Christ spoke from a mound
Which is a pile of ground
And people gathered around
Without making a sound
And thus he spake

Sin in socks
Socks full of sin
How do we quiet this
Jehoviadin din

Do unto others as
They do unto you
That includes you
Young Timothy Foo

One pharisee said to another he knew
What do we do with this upitty jew
We can wash him in wine
And make him all clean
And into Sam Zittle’s
Crucifixtion Machine

Twirl the gawhril
And relase the gavlease
And in go the nails
As fast as you please

And it is said that he
Said as he bled:

Forgive them Father
For they know not what they do

For they walk through this life
In toe crampity shoes.

Do you?

Amen.

If I was stranded on a desert island, and I could only have one person, one book, and one record with me,

I’d probably die of exposure.

Something you might not know about me is that .. I have a good attitude towards menstruation. That’s right, I’m the guy! The guy with a good attitude towards menstruation! Oh, I know a lot of men are made uncomfortable by this monthly miracle. But not me. No, I embrace it. Embrace it the way the way some men embrace the weekend! Why I anticipate it the way a child anticipates Christmas!

Did you know that, uh, in a lot of native Indian cultures, menstruating woman were forced to leave the village, lest their *powerful* magic should overwhelm the Shaman? If I were Shaman, I wouldn’t be so competitive. I’d be more open and giving. I’d be a shaman with…a good attitude towards menstruation!

‘Cause after all, what is it? a cluster of blood vessels, awaiting a fertilized egg. Providing a safe warm place for that egg to grow. And if a life does not occur, the whole thing is flushed away, and the cycle begins again. Now is that anything to be ashamed of or disgusted by? No, this is the nesting stuff of Humanity!

That’s why the woman I shall love will be able to menstruate as fully and freely as she desires. Even if her monthly flow should build in intensity to a raging rust colored torrent! An unbridled river of life giving blood flowing from between her legs! An awesome cataract plunging off the edge of our couch. I wouldn’t be fazed! No, no, even if coureur de bois would come up stream, battling the rapids, and singing a ‘jaunty song’! I would take no offense, rather I would ford across that mighty womanly river, and fetch herbal tea and Pamprin. And then I would mop her brow and admire her fecundity. For I…Have A Good Attitude….Towards MENSTRUATION!

I’m home.

actually got to leave early.

now I have nothing to do.

Where is my dearest one? Must be off non-computing somewhere.

Very strange, semi-biblical flash of dream at the end of sleep.

In the desert at night, walking alone, I came across a burning bush, its stubby trunk a core of fire, molten twigs snapping and bursting brilliantly into flame, sharp cracking sound, the sound of light. And all the leaves fell like stars, shooting down with faint seared firework traces of light in the darkness, burning for a second then fading away, leaving their ghosts in ashes behind them to sink to the ground slowly, lighter than air, and disappear. The heat haze shimmers and shifts in the sand, which appears to be moving as the shadows spread in waves across it. And if I stare at these shadows, and then into the heart of the fire, my eyes start to see something almost like a face, speaking, and the crackling and hissing of the flames are a message, which I could decipher if only I could make it out..
Wait. And watch. And listen.
And then dawn comes swiftly over the desert, the horizon all around me. The whole sky is on fire, and the light is blinding, and I fall down in the sand to hide my eyes, still desperately trying – to listen – and, when I look up again, the fire has gone out. Flakes of ash settle and disappear, all burnt up to nothing. The silence is as heavy as the weight of the sand in the desert, a silence in which no sound could possibly be imagined.

Woke up wondering if there was a message. But there was only tea, and toast.

In love there is but happiness,
No frowns or tears,
Only the warm glow of another.

I wish all could feel such bliss.
I wish all could see such light.
I wish all could enjoy such warmth.

The world could truly be,
Happiness as all can see,
My love for thee.

“Love is an overwhelming concern for the well-being of another without any regard for what you receive in return.”

Life’s Rewards

Mothman.
“Scientific explanations” in old sci-fi films.
30s pulp heroes.
Carillons.
The Prisoner TV series
Old maps.
Armillary spheres.
Krispy Kreme glazed doughnuts, hot from the fryer.(Darktrain reminded me! yum!)
Typhoon’s Penang-style Char Kway Teow over rice.
Hayao Miyazaki
Hong Kong movies.
That part in The Shadow when he says “To the Sanctum!”
Boing Boing magazine.
Oingo Boingo
The word “boing”.
Outdated slang, like “jeepers” and “criminy”.
Call of the West by Wall of Voodoo.
Boiled peanuts.

I have no Idea how ODB pulled it off. how to hide from the police

Sheesh… I imagine that there’d be lots of donors…Poop Transfusion!

Smokin’ on a night train, chewin’ on a jelly roll,
Smokin’ on a night train, chewin’ on a jelly roll,
I’m runnin’ up a flag without a pole,
I’m walkin’ on a shoe without a sole,
Smokin’ on a night train, chewin’ on a jelly roll.
(OK here i’ comes, lesson one.)
You can’t cook an egg unless you got yourself a frying pan.
(You know it’s the truth.)
You can’t cook an egg unless you got yourself a frying pan.
You shouldn’t rob a bank without a plan,
You shouldn’t use your tongue to stop a fan.
Smokin’ on a night train, chewin’ on a jelly roll.

(Now here come lesson number two.)
Shouldn’t wanna do it if you don’t want to not do it right.
Eba-dabba-dooba-daba-deba-daba-do, all right.
(I ain’t makin’ this up.)
You don’t go dancin’ in the day,
You don’t golfin’ in the night.
Smokin’ on a night train, chewin’ on a jelly roll.
(Yeah.)
Smokin’ on a night train, chewin’ on a jelly roll.