Unsung Songs

Several years ago I wrote a blog about how sound moves not only through the air and aether, but also through our bodies, our eardrums, and our hearts, and deep into your memory. Since even before recorded history on stone tablets, humanity has had an intimate relationship with sound, notes, melodies and harmonies, and rhythm. It should come as no surprise that vibrations resonate through every one of us.

We live on a planet of rhythm and time.  A planet that completes its cycle around the sun every 365 days, with a moon that cycles around us every 28 days, and we rotate around our own axis every 24 hours.  These cosmic cycles and our bodily ones, all connected to the circadian dance of day and night.  The mystery of rhythm and time found for a moment in the soul’s drum.  When it is right, you feel it with all your senses, every thread of your being.  It is the ‘sweet spot’ of connection.

If the rhythm is right, if the translation between inner mood and the drum membrane are perfect, then you know it instantly. “Ah, this goes with my body tempo, this connects how I feel today, how fast my heart is beating, what my thoughts are, what my hands feel like.”

When the rhythm is right you feel it with all your senses, every corner of your soul and being. You don’t fight it, but instead allow yourself to be propelled and consumed by its insistent yet familiar feeling.  All sense of the present moment disappears, the normal categories of time become meaningless. —— Mickey Hart, Drumming At the Edge Of Magic – A Journey Into the Spirit of Percussion

I’d imagine that most species on this magnificent planet experience the same thing as we do with sound, vibrations, and music. In some ways it is how we navigate through life. Imagine the endless beauty of all the world’s songbirds, whales and dolphins in the oceans, herds of mammals guiding their young, and all of humanity’s greatest concertos, bands of every genre, instruments from many cultures, and the powerful significance it all brings to life on Earth.

Now, imagine a world, a life, with no sound.

This is very hard for me to do. I can’t frankly. Sound, rhythm, and music are so deeply woven and engrained in my family heritage and my DNA it will never be silenced! At least for several generations or more; both my kids are crazy about their music, much of it they fell in love with from their parents. But imagine a life where none of these sounds, vibrations, or rhythms exist. How would our human bodies react? How would others react to us?

There is also a paradox here. Or maybe not a paradox, but a potential paradox, or a limit. Overkill. Excessive sound or noise. Is silence better than noise, interference?

Hello darkness, my old friend
I’ve come to talk with you again
Because a vision softly creeping
Left its seeds while I was sleeping
And the vision that was planted in my brain
Still remains
Within the sound of silence…
—— Simon & Garfunkel

When a human being expresses their feelings, right or wrong it doesn’t matter at the time, is it better than silence, than omission? Are feelings typically honest and raw? From Paulo Coelho:

Telling the truth and making someone cry
is better than telling a lie and making someone smile.

What sort of perceived reality is achieved when one is fed half-truths, half-lies, or full-blown lies, or a more common form of silence:  omission. Is it human nature to express these forms of non-reality or blurry reality? Is it human nature to trust, or trust too much too easily? How often do we practice these techniques?

I’m in the dark, I’d like to read his mind
but I’m frightened of the things I might find
Oh, there must be something he’s thinking of
to tear him away
when I tell him that I’m falling in love
why does he say…

If we deny other humans — our dear friends, family, lovers, partners, spouses — OUR sounds, vibrations, words, feelings, rhythms, and “music” is it fair to expect or demand THEIR free expressions of sounds, vibrations, words, feelings, rhythms, and “music”? Where does silence, hush-hush leave us?

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Live Well — Love Much — Laugh Often — Learn Always — Listen to Songs Unsung

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Muskets and Machine Guns

In this extraordinary life we find ourselves and on this endlessly mysterious, riveting, and dazzling planet we call home, we can often recognize similarities, patterns between different events, different objects, different species and humans if we observe closely in earnest. If we observe it equitably and honestly.

For example, the musket or flintlock, as Wikipedia explains, is a muzzle-loaded, smoothbore long gun that appeared in early 16th century Europe, at first as a heavier variant of the arquebus, capable of penetrating heavy armor. For some time the musket was the common weapon in use. Other than cannons and mortars they served pretty well their intended designed purpose. However, by the time the 19th-century approached they were quickly becoming obsolete. Their rate-of-fire simply could not keep up with repeating rifles, followed decades later by the faster, more sophisticated, more lethal machine guns. The musket had become a dinosaur on the fields of battle.

The machine gun, unlike the antiquated slow-loaded musket, could fire at a rate of 300 rounds per minute or higher. During World War II Mauser Werke manufactured one of the most feared machine guns Allied forces had ever faced to date, the MG-42 which could fire an average of 1,200 rounds per minute. For the two World Wars and beyond, the machine gun completely revolutionized modern warfare and tactics.

And then BOOM, it hit me! This history is also profoundly representative of another dynamic, another similar relationship.

Men’s penises and their performance are just like muskets! They are pretty much single fire until “hours” later, muzzle-loaded after some gun-powder (air-pumping? surgery? drugs?), and unless updated or refined, kept impeccably (not pecker you pervs!) maintained, then highly and properly trained, they are pretty much outdated, limp, and with a very shitty rate-of-fire.

Women’s sexual organs are quite sophisticated, quite advanced, with more than one arousal-barrel/spot and have a most IMPRESSIVE (and lethal?) rate-of-fire. Women are truly a beautiful work of art (not machinery) that honestly puts us musket-carrying Neanderthals to shame. There’s simply no denying it gentlemen. Sorry. This is why they are truly Earth’s most mesmerizing, most needed creatures. And looking back over history and how utterly crappy we males have progressed and developed, the women deserve so much MORE than just equality and unfettered respect.

Besides, guys… come on! We have muskets, they have machine guns for f*ck sake. 🙄

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Live Well — Love Much — Respect Her Lethality — Laugh Often — Learn Always

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Does Size Matter?

My intelligence officer frantically bursts through my plastic door, salutes with the wrong hand and reports to me in broken sentences and insufficient oxygen-intake THE terrible crisis which has befallen us:

Highly General! We’ve been hit by a surprise attack that is of the scale and deadly precision of… yes… Dec. 7th, 1941… “A date which will live in INFAMY!

Stunned and not sure whether I left the refrigerator door open this morning or not, and whether I remembered to apply my under-arm deodorant, I asked my IO Alright, so how bad is it? What’s the damage report?”

Sir of Highlyness, the reports are still preliminary, but all sectors are fighting gallantly in all directions! But there is just TOO MANY of them. We are being overrun!

I scramble to find somewhere on my big desk in front of my BIG chair underneath all my “kinky surveillance photos” and questionable magazines, Where is that file? I know it’s here somewhere!” Shuffle, shuffle, push, push… HAH! There it is!” My IO with the utmost attentiveness of a feline inside a pet-bird store snaps WHAT!? What is it your Highlyness!?”

I open up the top-secret file labelled “Top Secret” to read valuable national security data for kitchens:

If you have been seeing small flies or gnats in your kitchen, they’re probably fruit flies. Fruit flies can be a problem year round, but are especially common during late summer/fall because they are attracted to ripened or fermenting fruits and vegetables.

There it is. The Coup d’état of preemptive covert preparations in early to mid-April. Yes, APRIL! What good does that do us in June under piles of kinky photos and unconventional magazine… research!? The extensive report continues:

Adults are about 1/8 inch long and usually have red eyes. The front portion of the body is tan and the rear portion is black. Fruit flies lay their eggs near the surface of fermenting foods or other moist, organic materials. Upon emerging, the tiny larvae continue to feed near the surface of the fermenting mass. This surface-feeding characteristic of the larvae is significant in that damaged or over-ripened portions of fruits and vegetables can be cut away without having to discard the remainder for fear of retaining any developing larvae. The reproductive potential of fruit flies is enormous; given the opportunity, they will lay about 500 eggs. The entire life-cycle from egg to adult can be completed in about a week. 

Obviously I cannot confirm the red eyes because the little f*ckers never stay still, especially when I try to look up close directly at their eyes! Tan bodies? What!? Are they migrating here from Caribbean beaches of UV-coconut lotion? Wow, what a life!

Eggs on fermenting foods or organic materials? That is unequivocally wrong! I have nothing fermenting within my zone-of-defense and most grocers don’t sell anything organic, at least not at reasonable prices! Damn, these little pecker-pests have figured out another method of infiltration and penetration! And I am NOT talking about Karen McDougal or Stormy Daniels. HOLY SHIT! 500 eggs!? The entire life-cycle from egg to adult can be completed in about [30-seconds].” Well, at least that’s much much longer than Donnie T’s endurance.

As I am reading this Top Secret file I have three enemy flies/gnats buzz me. One tries entry into my nostril the other tries my ear like my skull is the Death Star and they have delusions of Luke Skywalker grandeur! OH HELL NO!” I’m swatting my hands everywhere like M.C. Hammer on steroids firing laser-machine-guns! BAAM! BOOM! gnatty-ness carnage everywhere!

But within minutes there’s another wave of horny-for-500-more fruity flies flying to my kitchen and to every orifice on my body… I presume because I do not have enough organic produce! Hence, I am the fruiter’s target. I must read the rest of the Top Secret fruit-fly files FAST… EEER!

ERADICATION – or Counter-attacks:
Once a structure is infested with fruit flies, all potential breeding areas must be located and eliminated. Unless the breeding sites are removed or cleaned, the problem will continue no matter how often insecticides are applied to control the adults. Finding the source(s) of attraction and breeding can be very challenging and often will require much thought and persistence. Potential breeding sites which are inaccessible (e.g., garbage disposals and drains) can be inspected by taping a clear plastic food storage bag over the opening overnight. If flies are breeding in these areas, the adults will emerge and be caught in the bag.

Are you fuckin’ kidding me? I have to find areas with 500 eggs? And we thought Easter was fun!?

I scream at my IO, Corporal Klinger! It is time to call-in SEAL Team D-O. We have no choice, no hope of clean orifices if we do not call-in the Specialized DO-ers.”

Cpl Klinger

Cpl. Klinger, Intelligence Officer

Cpl. Klinger stares forward and stares forward… KLINGER!” He jumps to attention, SIR!?” I give him the piercing reprimand-stare, This is no time for daydream believers and homecoming Queens! Make the call!” He salutes proudly, “Yes sir. Right away sir! I’m sure the Black-Ops of Drain-O squad will see to it that Operation Orifice is a resounding success!”

“Well, it better be or we will become the 30-second breeding ground of eggs-galore! Can you imagine being violated like that in 30-seconds?” Both of us pause a few seconds and remember the long, long history of patriarchal plunder. Cpl. Klinger begins to open his mouth to respond. STOP! Do not answer that.”

“Right now we have a formidable fruit-fly foray requiring our finest feats of ferocity! Are you fit for this forthcoming fatal function of fracas fruit-fly…” I must pause to wipe my lip and chin… FARNAGE! the Cpl. blurts out! You are indeed my fashionable Intelligence Officer. Go call SEAL team DO-ers!”

The Battle-Smoke Slowly Clears, the Smell of Apple Vinegar Lingers with Fly-Bodies Floating Lifeless Everywhere

💀  💀  💀  💀  💀

It was near disaster. There were so many. They just kept coming and coming and coming. Three bottles of apple-cider vinegar (squirted with Dawn dishsoap) gone, strategically dispersed throughout our fortress defenses, precision counter-attacks by the SEAL DO-ers, and orifices brilliantly booby-trapped… the war had been won, but at what cost? Would we be able to withstand the next attack? Unless we breed like our fruity enemy do we have a chance? Yes, we were victors, for now. Like the dinosaurs we are big and mighty, for now. But can we last?

Do numbers matter? Scary still, does size matter? We face an uncertain future with those levels of reproduction and libidos. I don’t think we hetero males will keep up. Have we been deluding ourselves over the millenia with dreams of superiority?

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Live Well — Make Love Much More? — Laugh Often at our Arrogance — Learn Always from the Tiny Details

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Tiptop Improv Returns!

When I had heard that one of my all-time favorite comedy shows was returning for at least one more, maybe two more seasons, my jaw dropped and I let go the screaming SHUT THA FRONT DOOR!!!! shoving my friend over the side of the couch. From years gone by… back to my prim-ier years (Drew Carey hosted), even to my days right out of college (Clive Anderson hosted) when my Dad and I watching religiously, laughing non-stop! Was it really happening? Could it be? It was indeed a dream come true, reborn.

Whose Line Is It Anyway was back on the air with the usual suspects Colin Mochrie, Ryan Stiles, Wayne Brady, a special guest, and hosted by Aisha Tyler. I frackin’ frickin’ fruitin’ LOVE this show! Let the predictable unpredictable rib-breaking commence!

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Pure unadulterated laughter, the best medicine. If you used to watch this entertaining hyper-ventilating 30-mins of hilarity and have any favorite scenes, share them below if you can! All are welcomed!

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Live Well — Love Much — Laugh Often — Learn Always

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Tears Required

Perception. Deception. Human gullibility. Swiss and American marketing equals tears.

In Texas there are many days throughout the seasons where the gusty winds blow around high levels of pollen, cedar, weed, and other allergenic particles. For those with sinus issues or dry eyes, this can make certain days wiping your eyes and nose until you turn into Rudolph the reindeer and other days like you just departed a showing of Old Yeller or The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas. When you try and speak you sound as if the only orifice functioning is your conflicted retarded mouth that desperately wants more air rather than bellowing out moose mating calls. Mariah the Allergy Queen comes hunting eyes and noses we bawl a song for thee…

Mariah makes the moosy sounds
So folks out here are dyin’
Mariah, O, Mariah
There ain’t no words a lyin’
I’m snotty can’t you see
Please blow my nose for me!

Get the picture?

Time for relief and an immediate trip to the pharmacy and/or grocery store, right? For contact lens wearers like myself, we require specialized eye-drops suitable for our high-tech lenses. It can’t be just any drops. It’s very technical ophthalmology. It is the difference between beautiful soothed eyes or swollen, bloodshot zombie eyes. Despite the urgency for the best correct solution, the selection demands careful decision-making skills.

You enter the store and THIS is what your screaming eyes see and snorty nose sniffles at:

eyecare shelf

Hell or paradise? America loves choices! This is a parade and epitome of American capitalism, marketing, and consumerism at its best. Everything imaginable for what you need and don’t need! They should put up a sign:  Hope you have a full afternoon to READ everything! Thank you for your business!” Aww, the store and product manufacturers want me to stay and spend hours perusing their packaged cornucopia layers. How nice.

But beware! Clever mischief is afoot.

Things are not always as they seem… or presented. On the shelf. Of eye-catching vistas. For your examination, Exhibit A:

Exhibit A

Exhibit A — notice the number of ounces

When searching for a product’s volume, or weight, or item numbers within, for the best buy for your buck, many times (all the time?) a shopper must be equally an expert in forensic sleuthing and a brilliant mathematician in conversions. And this is why, Exhibit B:

Exhibit B

Exhibit B — notice the length of the cap

One particular component of these pictures you cannot detect — because a customer cannot open the box without buying the product first — is the thickness of the plastic bottle compared to the perceived volume for the package/box and height of the bottle. Now, for all this show and pomp and circumstance for an enormously spectacular allergenic eye-relief, here is what 0.5 fluid ounces really looks like:

Exhibit C

Exhibit C — 0.5 fluid ounces next to a U.S. quarter

Now for the price of these eye-relief drops packaged in an oversized box, in a distorted container with a gargantuan cap and thick plastic bottle. Drum roll please… $8.25 to $10.50!

I wonder, what is the breakdown of that price for packaging, containing, for the Swiss parent-company Novartis, and the maker Alcon, let alone the retail store? Do I want to know?

Please hand me the crate of tissues. Here is truly where my tears of pain are required!

(paragraph break)

Live Well — Love Much — Laugh Often — Learn Always

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