butterfly effect

one dimension over

i chose a different college

different major

different job in different city

met a different woman

married

different kids

different travels

different grandkids

many of the same mistakes    same choices    same outcomes

the butterfly flew    out    out    out    back    back    back

 

For Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie

meander

my blood pressure was high. my mind was confused.

you’re stressed, said my doctor. reduce your stress.

you should leave the city, said my shrink. take a vacation. get away from your job. go back to your roots. meander in the countryside.

so i booked passage to southern turkey.

there I found the ancient maiandros (mαίανδρος) river, whence comes the word meander. by strolling along the banks of this winding river, i would by definition be meandering. the river’s modern name is büyük menderes, the turks having owned it these last five hundred and fifty years or so.

where to start, the river’s source (dinar, where are found the ruins of celaenae-apamea) or mouth (on the aegean near samos)? i couldn’t worry about this, as it would cause stress, which i was to avoid at any cost, so i flipped a coin (a turkish lira, 1989; atatürk’s head) and began my meander at dinar.

the river being 341 miles long, it took me some time to negotiate it at a slow pace (i never took more than ten steps without pausing to contemplate the water and my life).

by the time i was done, i felt a lot better.

 

For The Daily Post

My Core Belief

My core belief is that I’m ok.

Nobody knows me better than I do, so I’m pretty sure that I’m right.

Full disclosure: I’ve been convicted of two felonies.

In the first case, I thought she was an adult. I didn’t have a legal leg, or foot, to stand on, but I knew what I thought, so doing time did not shake my faith in myself.

If I had it to do over, I would be more careful about the warning signs, but making mistakes is how you learn. I won’t go into the warning signs, as I do look pretty foolish in retrospect, as well as in the video that went viral.

In the second case, I needed cash for an operation for my wife. I don’t fault myself for trying to take it from someone who has more than he needs. His children were not hurt in the plot. They went without food for a couple of days but I was doing them a favor with respect to their weight, in my opinion.

My heart was pure and my wife would have got her new nose if I had not been  foiled.

Who among us is without fault? Not me, but I’m ok with that. It’s in the Bible.

They say that the dumb don’t know they’re dumb and the wicked don’t know they’re wicked, but I know I’m not wicked, so that saying wouldn’t apply to me.

When I get out, if I ever do, I’m not going to change a thing.

 

For Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie

Musk’s Tesla to stay in space for millions of years

That’s what you think. I’m going up to get it. I’ve always wanted one of those things.

Have you seen The Astronaut Farmer (2006)? Billy Bob Thornton? Based on the true story of a farmer who built a dad-gummed rocket in his barn and then (spoiler alert) flew it up into space.

Well get this. I’m a farmer, I live nearish to Houston where all the space stuff is, and I own the Astronaut Farmer dvd. Done deal.

Maybe Musk will want his car back, you say. Tough ti… tough patootie. You can’t park a car in space for a million years and expect it to just sit there. Your insurance isn’t going to pay off if it’s stolen. It’s reckless driving or something. The insurance companies will always get you on some technicality or other. When I bring the car back, I’m not even going to insure it. I’ll just drive it around on the farm.

This rumor about there being a body in the trunk, one of Musk’s enemies? I doubt it’s true but if it is and I find it, I’m going to leave it up there. Not bringing it back. It’s dead weight.

I assume that Musk left the keys in the car.

I was also reading that there is a ton of “space junk” up there, but get this. It’s not junk. It’s all kinds of equipment and satellites and stuff that they can’t or won’t go up and retrieve, so they call it junk to avoid embarrassment. I might snag a thing or two in addition to the car.

I saw a picture of an astronaut sitting in the car, waving. If I find anybody in it when I get there, I’ll just politely tell them to get out. Everybody at church tells me I’m a real diplomat but I will not compromise where the car is concerned.

my socks

When I buy a pair of socks, I mark one left and one right. Either new sock could be a left or a right before I mark them! It’s like they are being born when I open the package and then I tell them which is male and which is female. I always say it out loud while I am marking. Once marked, they are male or female for life unless I decide to change the markings.

I have different feelings about left and right socks. Every so often I will put a left sock on my right foot. Once a year or so I will put a right sock on my left foot. I always mention this at confession but my priest never offers an opinion. I cannot see his socks; his cassock hangs too low.

When I was a teenager and then in my early twenties, I would have trouble finding a matching left and right pair in my sock drawers. If I found two that matched in color, they would both be right or both be left. I missed more trains that way, searching.

After the fire, when I needed all new socks, I bought only one brand (Vulvue), one type (wool, over-the-calf, ribbed), and one color (brown). I keep the lefts in one set of drawers and the rights in another set on the other side of the room. I wash lefts and rights separately. I use fewer drawers for the lefts because I like to squeeze them in together. The rights get more room but sometimes I will ball two of them up, one inside the other. Once I balled up three. I haven’t told my priest about this.

When I was thirty, I hurt my right foot and had to wear a cast. By the time it came off, the left socks were more worn than the rights. I had to get rid of all of them and start over. I packed them in a mini-fridge delivery box and put them down next to a homeless person at the station. I told him that one of the socks had a ten-dollar bill in it, so that he would not throw them all away. It was really only one dollar but I wasn’t sure that would provide sufficient motivation for him.

I have some fuzzy warm cotton socks for cold nights in bed. I keep these on a shelf in my closet, in a box I call “the harem.”

I notice socks on others. Most seem unhappy.

 

 

Can Humankind Avoid Its Biological Destiny?

Don’t like the sound of that. I know what my biological destiny is. Why would I avoid it?

I’m 28. Have not fulfilled my biological destiny yet. Came close twice but one time I said something stupid and the other time the girl’s dad banged on the wall.

What’s wrong with my destiny I ask you that. I hold no brief against those other destiny types in our time but mine is still the most popular ain’t it? It always was in my neighborhood growing up. All my mates did their destiny before they were proper adults didn’t they? In the proper way. On top I mean.

Father Sean don’t agree but he would disagree would he not? His destiny ain’t getting fulfilled any more than my own unless he would take up something like Father Jules has done devil take him.

I took a vow after getting knocked about in the destiny department by girls I fancied and there were many. I took a vow solemn as my soul that I would never pay for it. That was to be my destiny. Do not explain bloody humankind to me or the world’s oldest profession. My biological destiny is waiting for me at The Crown and Pig and I will not avoid her God willing.

I’m Back.

Just returned from Nameria on the Dark Continent. Thanks, Danny, for minding my blog.

My trip went smoothly. There was a coup but that isn’t unusual in Nameria. The businessman is treated with respect by both sides. Money is money.

The hotel has a new chef, a German woman. She works in Schnitzel vom Schwein. Wild pig is plentiful in Nameria.

I looked up Adebowale. He is in fine fettle. The Namerians are wonderfully modern where homosexuality is concerned. Once my business was concluded in the capitol, we paddled a dugout up the Okatawanga to his (all male!) village. The dugout and his village required much more of my energy than my transactions with the government did. Whew.

The country is warmer than before. The Bolanga plateau has become a desert. Who know whence the animals fled, if they have survived at all.

Favored bloggers, you’ll be receiving my postcards with their rare Namerian stamps afixed to them. Be patient, for they must come out of the country by elephant, just as I did.