American Fez

Who Cares?

Conventional physics describes the four states of matter as Solid, Liquid, Gas, and Plasma, but regular readers of this blog will be aware of another one: Doesn't Matter.

In fact, despite what those blinkered, white-coated scientists claim, Doesn't Matter is actually the most prevalent state of matter. It is all around us and observable at our every waking moment. Just glance sideways or look down and there it is.

Ironically, Doesn't Matter often manifests itself in the form of something many people consider very important. The news, for example. 

The news will drift around the Earth's atmosphere as Doesn't Matter for about a day or two before quickly vaporizing into liquid droplets of globular vacuity then disappearing altogether. Some types of Doesn't Matter news, however, such as celebrity gossip, will become a particularly noxious gas before evaporating, leaving a lingering and unpleasant odor wherever it appears. 

 Doesn't Matter can perhaps be best understood as a type of Black Hole, except Doesn't Matter usually comprises many boring photographs of jet-set movers and shakers at a party instead of being completely black.

Doesn't Matter experts like myself think that the average person has a greater chance of survival when sucked into a Black Hole than being overwhelmed by Doesn't Matter. After all, surely it is preferable to be zapped into nothingness than reduced to a goggle-eyed zombie that knows everything about what the Kardashians are up to. 

Alas, unlike a Black Hole, Doesn't Matter is impossible to avoid. So good luck with that.

Synapse From Outer Space

Trying to think of something to write about this morning, my mind could focus on nothing but the vast emptiness of space, "starless and Bible-black" as Dylan Thomas might say.

Occasionally, a small plasma bubble of theme would silently drift through this void, only to vanish again into a gaping maw of dark matter or find itself eventually eclipsed by a frozen sun.

Oxygenless astronauts, Supernova debris, rusting satellites long-since inactive, all made a brief orbit of the inner belt of my mind but disappeared into an abyss of nothingness.

Pluto had nothing to say. Venus had other places to be. The rings of Saturn merely muttered amongst themselves. Uranus coughed politely but kept its own counsel. 'Don't kill the messenger,' whispered Mercury. 'But you've got writer's block.'

But from a distant galaxy, bouncing off fogbound moons and echoing through layers of dead plasma, came the muffled tinkle of the Music of the Spheres. It sounded not unlike The Chicken Dance song.

So I sat down and wrote this while waiting for the Big Synapse Bang.

Goad To A Nightingale

My heart aches and a drowsy numbness pains, my sense as though of Fox News I had watched, or subscribed to The New York Times.

My apologies to John Keats, but that's how I feel; especially so, as there is now an absurd campaign to banish so-called "fake news" from the Internet.

What, I ask you, is fake news? Does anyone believe Fox, CNN, NPR or Breitbart are somehow real? Honestly, I think viewers and readers would be better served by an editorial monkey tapping away at a jungle telegraph. At least the monkey's sole agenda is the ripe banana that awaits the completion of his labors. Better yet, how about we employ a green-visored spiritualist to channel the hard-bitten shade of Edward R. Murrow with a 3D news ouija? 

People say you should never read the comments on a news article. But I'd suggest that the comments be the only thing you read. They are entertaining, at least, and provide useful insights into the confirmation biases and mania active in our world today. The actual article, on the other hand, will merely demonstrate the monstrous size of its author's self-righteous ego.

So I don't bother with the news. It's for the birds.

Meet The New Ozymandias. Same As The Old Ozymandias

My eyes usually roll like Edward Gibbon's second chin whenever some lazy loudmouth compares the current state of the United States to the decline of ancient Rome, yet the name 'Reince Priebus' certainly recalls that era.

Marco Rubicon, anyone?,

Mitchmcconnell, on the other hand, sounds almost Aztec.

And as for Donaldtrump, well, that has a rather pharaonic ring to it. 

If you ask me, we should require clarification from the new administration about exactly which crumbled civilization of antiquity they intend following in the fossilized footsteps of. I have a sinking feeling the reply will be 'the Atlanteans.'

So business as usual, then. 

Reasons To Be Thankful

Is the glass half full or half empty? 

Who the Hell cares? Surely the current level of its contents is less important than contemplating exactly what type of glass it is. After all, a half empty crystal goblet is probably more inspiring than a half full plastic beaker the withered remains of a lemon floating around in it like an unflushed turd. 

Similarly, a half empty souvenir champagne flute from last year's vacation to France is a lovelier object to observe than a half full promotional giveaway tumbler advertising a particular brand of nasal decongestant. (Unless you're the kind of weirdo who collects kitsch drinking vessels, I suppose).

And what if the half full glass has a chipped rim, making it dangerous to drink from? There are so may variables to take into account with this very imprecise glass half full or half empty scenario

But, regardless, we should really just be thankful that we have any kind of glassware at all; and that we have access to non-poisonous liquids with which we may consider them to be half full or half empty depending on our mood. For that is not the case in many parts of the world these days, where unfortunates are forced to sup tainted water from a rusty pipe in their own cupped hands.

So bottoms up, as they oxymoronically say.