Death?

D E A T H ' S     L A S T     B R E A T H

In the end each is alone.

Another one? Another lachrymose article? When is he going to pullout of it? It really is getting repetitive. It moves from death to dying, to the end of life with nothing in-between. I'll bet that ...

Okay. Okay, I'm sorry. I admit it again, I have been writing downer article after downer article. But don't worry, I'll pullout of it, someday …

The end is a funny thought. What does "The End" mean? Are there different types of ends? Can there be a new beginning after… All right. All right. That's it! I'm going to pullout of it now! I'm done (for a while anyways) contemplating things such as "To be or not to be, that is the question…"

Speaking of that famous line written by Shakespeare, did you know that William R. Bent, Jr., a Yale Professor, once used a computer to show that a trillion imaginary monkeys, all typing rapidly, would take more than a trillion times the age of the Universe to come up with that line from hamlet,

"To be or not to be, that is the question."

It seems to be that Mr. Bent might have put the computer to better use, even if it was to play video games… But then as Mack McGinnis hit the nail on the monkey’s head when he said,

"Progress isn't always for the best. Smoke signals never got an Indian out of bed at 3 a.m. to answer a wrong number."

Speaking of computers, we all think of storing bits of information when we think of computers. But then brain isn't too bad at computer-like tasks. Human memory is roughly estimated to be capable of retaining 100 billion bits of information, which means that a typical adult brain holds 500 times the information in a complete set of the Encyclopedia Britannica.

That's some computer! It would seem that we don't need computers if we just used the natural tools we have. But we do need science and progress because like Bill Vaugham said,

 "Thanks to science you can fly almost anywhere in half the time it will take for you to wait for your luggage after you get there."

How about contributions from people like Californian William McLellen who built the world's smallest motor? It weighs one half-millionth of a pound and is smaller than the head of a pin, measuring a sixty-fourth of an inch on all sides. It has 13 parts and generates one-millionth of a horsepower. It can be seen in operation only through a microscope. It was built using a toothpick, a microscope, and a watchmaker’s lathe.

What can this motor be used for? What would one-millionth of a horsepower drive? It could probably move a nose hair. It could probably drive a turntable made for fleas. It could possibly pass undetected through an airport metal detector, that way, in case the plane has engine failure in mid-flight you could replace it with Mr. McLellan's motor.

The only drawback to this wondrous device is that it probably takes 500 volts to power it. What type of power cord would it have? How many quarts of oil would it need? Would it take only lightweight oil?

What is the source of the most power available to man in the known Universe? It is static electricity from rubbing your shoe across a rug and touching someone's neck. A close second is a transistor battery when touched to the tip of your tongue. How about the jolt of a first kiss? All these rate high above a wall socket for delivered volts. Did you ever go swimming? Hopefully, not during an electrical storm. Nor near an electric eel, as they can deliver a shock with more than four times the voltage of a wall socket. That's a hot fish!

Did you know that the temperature at the center of the earth is nearly as hot as the sun (5,000 - 6,000 degrees Celsius)? Sunshine bears down upon the daylight side of the earth with a pressure of two pounds for every square mile, but the earth only receives 1/2 of one-billionth of the run's radiant energy. In a few days that's the heat and light equivalent to burning all the oil, coal, and wood on the planet. But we can get much hotter than then sun and the center of the earth. A lightning bolt generates temperatures five times hotter than the surface of the sun. If we could only use the power around us in nature there would never be an energy shortage, for the energy equivalent of just one ounce of anything is enough to keep a 100-watt light bulb burning for almost one million years.

I think I'm personally going through an energy shortage. It's a real possibility that I'm getting senile. Symptoms of aging can appear early. By the time we're twenty we may already display an age related drop in intellectual ability. The brain of an eight-month-old human fetus is actually estimated to have two to three times more nerve cells than an adult brain does. Just before birth, there is a massive death of unnecessary brain cells, a process that continues through early childhood and then levels off. So no wonder I've been complaining of headaches the last few years.

I take 200 vitamin pills a day, and people wonder why I look so unhealthy. But after my stomach is filled with these vitamins there is no more room for food. So unwillingly I am on a diet of 50 calories a day.

Truth is the bitterest of pills to swallow, and now that I have rambled on, from one subject to another I have lost all the readers before the finish once again.

In the end each one of us is alone.

'nother one,

èim  Uhr

P.S. Progress is relative. When a person becomes a millionaire he moves from his modern downtown apartment with all the latest contraptions to a nice older home in the country for a bit of the simple living, and calls it progress. Progress is what brought television to even the lowest income families. Research has shown that watching T.V. causes rats to become listless and apathetic. Thus they are less prone to biting the children.

Sometimes it just feels like death...

Have you ever had a near death experience?

Let me know.

Boring is Bad

B O R I N G     I S      B A D

One has to be a pupil before one can teach. But that doesn’t mean that once one becomes a teacher they stop learning. These processes usually go hand in hand. Show me a teacher that has stopped learning, and I would recommend for one of his pupils to take his pulse, I assume it would be found that he has been dead for the last few years. If he were a music teacher, I would ask his students to restrain from making any deadbeat remarks, or if he runs the school paper the journalist better not make any deadline comments. The teacher is always learning because of outside influences; books, newspapers, T.V., radio, and also people smarter than the teacher. The process of teacher-pupil is a two-way thing. The teacher can actually learn something from his students? Of course! It doesn't necessarily have to be about the subject he teaches, but about behavior and attitudes at the very least. But does it stop here? Of course not! There are many things a teacher can learn from his students. He soon finds out that a homework paper is a dog’s favorite food. He learns that it was much more fun to be a student than it is to be a teacher. He learns many things. Sometimes even about his own specialty. Of course not! (Oh, sorry…  I was getting sort of used to saying that…)

Some of us will never learn. Some seem to never lose hope. There are still people who have never heard of Murphy's Law. Others, though they have heard of it either don't believe it, or don't see the sense in it. These people are lawbreakers.

It’s not a good idea to make Mr. Murphy unhappy by breaking his law. This is a very serious crime. Lack of negative thinking is an epidemic that is ruining our society. Although when there is a lot of negativeness around, it makes me almost look positive, and I wouldn’t want to be known as a Pollyannist. Still, I think it’s an obligation to be firm with these laws.

We should have separate jails for Murphy's Law breakers. Or maybe we can stuff them on the shuttle and leave them on the moon.

If this becomes practice (and it probably will since I mentioned it), I think I'm going to break the law of Mr. Murphy so that I can ride aboard the shuttle. While a ride on the shuttle is not worth the sacrifice of having to spend the rest of my life on the desolate moon, I figure it is worth the chance of trying to take over the flight and change courses. Success would mean spending the rest of my life on one of the sunny Venusian beaches.

I really do need to take a trip. A long trip. Maybe around the world; or at least around the block. Maybe if I just walked around the room a few times.

I need change… I have a dollar, but I want a gumball. That's the way life is; you can have more or less than you want, but never exactly what you want. Like that old ancient saying goes:

"You can't always get what you want, but if you try sometime, you get what you need."

Was it John Wayne or Mick Jaeger who said that?

"The grass is always greener on the side of the fence without the dogs…"

"A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush, unless you're a bird watcher."

                — Sayings from the book of Rhumit.

Actually I could never leave my humble abode (be it ever so humble.) I am truly a homebody, or is that a homely body?...

Change can be upsetting, disorienting, and yet unavoidable. In school I hated changing classes between periods, even when I was leaving classes I hated. I like my moods evened out throughout the course of a day. If I start out feeling miserable at the start of a day I would just as soon stay miserable throughout the rest of the day. I hate up and down days, like school used to be — good class, bad class, good class… I hate that! Why can't the educators even things out by making everything either all good or all bad. I would prefer not to have them all be somewhere in-between, because that would be too boring. It's fun to cry about how much you hate something, or even, once in awhile, exclaim how you enjoy something. But what's there to say about something that's average? And I don't mean average in the way the critics use the term, when they say a movie or play was average, they really mean to say it was bad. Because after almost every movie a critic rates as average, he or she strings out a long list of shortcomings. Now you know, that after so much interjection and thought going onto ways to tear someone apart, he or she must have had fun.

The way you can really tell a movie is average is when it is just called "average," and there is nothing else. There is nothing to say about something that is really average. So average is boring, worse than bad, and even worse than good. It leaves you with nothing to reminisce upon. Nothing to sharpen your claws, and polish your verbal expletives on.

How about the average teacher? Does the average teacher really do more harm than good? The average teacher bores his students and leaves them with nothing to say, so they go away empty, which many of our children do today. This empty is bad. Sometimes empty can be good, because it is usually the want of mankind to fill anything that's empty. Empty is incompleteness. As the young person steps out into the world, empty of experience, sometimes this rawness, this emptiness, leads to bold intentions and radical conclusions. Before the mind is shaped in conventional ways, this is the time when all great geniuses make their most significant gifts to mankind. When the mind is full of traditional rationale, no new abstract thinking will tend to enter. It's in the process of filling that mind when all the great revelations occur. In this manner, it is usually the young mind, the empty mind, which is the best. The young mind cannot fall back on past experiences and so does not readily fall into the ruts of conventional thinking. If that young mind happens to be that of a genius, then it can lead to uncharted territory and break-through for the enlightenment of all mankind.

But a bored mind, empty or full, can only lead to stagnation. Education is not a joy to the student of an average teacher, so although that student may possess the potential skills to make that bold step to a level higher than the typical person, he never feels the urge to, that hungry desire that is so necessary has not been honed. If a hungry child, bored with the daily feedings of oatmeal, had a choice between eating oatmeal or going to bed hungry, I would pick a short bedtime story. Bored minds lose their hunger for knowledge.

You might say a bad teacher can only be worse. He leaves students with a bitter taste in their mouths. But herein lies the difference between bad and average; when something has left you with no taste, you don't search for that experience again. In this same way, the bored mind no longer searches for more knowledge. But how long would that same person leave a bad taste in their mouth? Most likely they will search for something to eradicate that bad taste. A pupil who has had a bad experience in class is left frustrated, angry – with a bad taste in his mouth. After a while he looks for something to change that frustration, search for something to rid his mouth of that bitter taste. The only thing that can change his distorted or misguided knowledge is clear insight into more reliable knowledge. Truth as opposed to lies, but the teacher doesn't have to lie to be unfit, better yet-- enlightenment as opposed to confusion. When the mind is confused it searches for logical paths to sort out the confusion and make sense of small parts of the total picture, even if the picture, as a whole, is incomprehensible. The student might take it a bit slower the next time around, sorting information bit by bit, instead of in confusing lumps. But for him there will be a next time.

Most people, when turned off by a religion or even diocese will go find another and not just give up on God, knowing that it’s the frailties of man that can distort the views of the big picture, even when the big picture itself has never changed.

The divorcee is always most vulnerable to another romance right after the separation. Is that because the divorcee is looking for another bad experience? Of course not, but they are looking to right a wrong. When you've had a bad love affair you search desperately for a good one.

But wouldn't it be best to have that original love be good? Isn't the same true for teachers?

Teachers are all-important. Even when they are on strike they are teaching... They have a direct hand upon our future. Teaching is more important for us than anything else, for it is what separates us from the insects. It is what led us to the present day, modern world. The building of knowledge through teaching. I don't need to be an Einstein to use his equations, because they were taught to me. I didn't have to try to work them out myself with an inferior mind to that of Mr. Einstein. I didn't have to invent and design my typewriter to be able to make use of it, either did the company who made it. That knowledge was passed down to them, leaving room and time for them to make improvements on the original and thus making a better product. The automobile is the classic example of an accumulation of many individual inventions all put together into one package that without any one of the many would not lead to the same final product.

Teaching doesn't start in the classroom (At least not in Strongsville.) From the moment a child is born he is learning and being taught and influenced by everyone around him. His brain is forming and growing from the start. Even the best teacher can only do so much when there is no cooperation from home. Parents should be aware of what

goes on inside their children's school and classes. Parents should take heed in pointing out the fact that they believe a teacher to be bad. This doesn’t mean that they should automatically take the child’s side, because many times today I see the parents defending their child’s bad behavior and this only teaches their child that bad behavior is acceptable. The parents have much more influence over their children than can one “bad” teacher can have. Let them know that there are good teachers out there, and help guide them when they most need to have a good experience in education. I think a good teacher is delighted to have parents take a constructive interest in their children's learning.

And if a teacher is boring your child, rescue him from the sea of tranquility (No – Don’t send him to the moon!) but show him that learning can be a wonderful, almost magical, experience. Learning can be fun. Otherwise mankind would have never made it this far.

Teach your children well …   (Please don’t Nash your teeth Mr. Graham)

Sincerely,   

èim  Uhr

P.S. A single cell in the brain may have

        direct contact with 1,000 others. A

        single teacher reaches 1,000's of

        young minds …

What are we teaching???

School Daze

Answers to life's questions

I Thought I would take a moment to answer a few Emails here.

(Keep in mind my email is static – I’m not always sure if the email response is to my Blog or my Website… or it’s just spam that I like to keep as personal mail just so I have think I have more than I really do.)

Question: How many words are in Moby Dick?

Answer: Well, I got to the end of the book and was at 212,002 when I hiccupped and lost my place… so maybe it’s just a little more than that. And no, don’t worry, I’ll never write anything that long. Just remember War and Peace is more than 550,000 words.

Q: How long have you been crazy?

A: I have never officially been diagnosed as being crazy. It’s just a place I sometimes like to go, especially in my writing. It’s a nice place to visit but I ….

Q: How much of this stuff is the truth you write?

A: What really is truth?  All my writing is totally true – most of it is just based in an alternate reality that has nothing to do with this one.

Q: My husband is divorcing his wife – do I still have to have contact with her?

A: Huh? That doesn’t seem to make any sense. Let me think for a moment.

(One moment later…) The answer is no. I think if she’s divorcing, then she has to leave the harem.

Q: I went to your website and on your favorite page –the music – are you kidding me? It’s dizzying! What is really your favorite style or artist?

A: Well, actually you should be a little more dizzy. I really don’t have much Classical or Jazz there, and those are two areas of music that I have embraced in the past (as well as New Age and Spirituality).

But as far as my ultimate favorite style, it would have to be alternative. And my favorite group would be The Cure.

But I grew up on early Elton John and I still think he is the King( ), even if his more recent stuff feels so watered down.

Of course it goes without saying that the Beatles are the ultimate group and an influence on everything else.

Then groups like Supertramp, Alan Parsons, the Moody Blues, and Klaatu raised me to levels that made everyday life seem mundane by comparison. While, at times, Klaatu can be a bit campy – that is part of their fun and their message. I still think that Klaatu’s second album “Hope” is one of the best ever. Abby Road (Beatles), Captain Fantastic (Elton John), Wish (Cure), 1^st Album (Jars of Clay), Crime of the Century (Supertramp) are some more off the top of my head. There are many I am leaving out…

Lately I’ve been listening to “Minus the Bear” from a recommendation from the great Alternative Press.

I believe that music is the backdrop to life…

Q: All your links! I never know what to click on or where they’re going. It drives me crazy! How about a better idea of where the links are and what’s going to come up when I click on something?

A: I love to be the driving force of your craziness. I just hope to provide a scenic journey.

\We all need to be a little more crazy/

Crazy

Craziness

Crazed

Crazily

CRAZY

Crazy

Crazy 

Crazy

crazy...

If you want me to keep updating you on your questions here just keep sending me more Email.

Feel free to follow me, although I realize that you have to be nuts to follow a blind squirrel.  (Maybe that’s why he never finds any nuts, because they’re always following behind him)

Questions?????????????

.

Penmanship of fools

This is  a rough continuation of last months piece...

Costly Pen

What did one balloon say to the other balloon?

"The rising cost of living is killing me!"

Ha, Hal But inflation is no laughing matter. I can’t believe the way prices have been rising. Even yeast keeps going up and up.

Inflation is out of hand, I know. I was just into this discount store, which used to be a little dime store the last time I was there. I went to purchase some pens. Five or so years ago I bought ten pens in this same store, when it was a dime store.

We used to have dime stores, and now our “big discount” stores are dollar stores. That’s an inflation rate of 1000%!

So after running low on ink I took some money and entered the store expecting to buy more pens. But I couldn’t find that ten pen for a dollar special they had last time. And this time I was smart enough to bring a dollar and five cents, the five cents extra for tax, which I managed not to have the last time. Then I had gotten past by telling the counter girl I would bring the five cents next time. But this time I still ran into trouble again. My ten pens for a dollar special was nowhere to be found. So I looked around for six or so pens, anticipating paying fifty cents, hence enabling me to buy two sets. But the cheapest bargain I could find was one pen for fifty-three cents, and even these pens had ink seeping out their backs and were half out of ink. Subtract from this the half of the ink that always ends up on my hands and I would be getting a quarter of pen’s ink to put to use. This didn’t sound like a deal to me. So I went up to the stock boy, who was marking prices, and asked him about the ten pen special. I don’t know if I forgot to wipe the toothpaste off of my mouth that morning or what, because he just laughed at me. 1 was not in a humorous mood.

In my anger I finally found a decent pen for a buck and stormed up to the checkout line. I placed the pen down and handed my dollar and five cents to the lady, somewhat older than the girl who was here last time, I would guess by about five or so years.

She reached out for my money, gazing deeply into my eyes, and for a minute I thought it was love at first sight when she said, "Haven't I seen you before?"

I got all choked up, but before I could say something witty like, "Um… no, I don't think so, I usually dress with my shades pulled down," she barked out "That'll be One dollar and seven cents!"

I handed her my dollar and nickel, not fully in control of my senses. I was busy contemplating what style wedding ring she would prefer, as her voice rang in my head, and I did not hear the words, just the melody.

"You’re two cents short," she said as I started to come back to reality.

I managed a muffled, "Wha ... " as the ring for her finger seemed to be growing in size.

She looked somewhat upset. "That's One dollar and seven cents — seven cents tax, and you only gave me One Dollar and five cents!" she spat out, her enunciation very clear even through her spittle. “I need another two cents.”

I could see the ring I planned to give her in my dreams WAS growing. It was taking the shape of a noose and coming for my head, I knew that only quick talking and a little luck could save me now.

"Bu… But I don't… " I stammered in my most suave turn of phrase, as my hands dug deep into my empty pockets, feeling only the lint there. I prayed for a lot of luck.

"Wait a minute... " she said with an air of recognition, "Now I remember. Five years ago you were short five cents on a pack of ten pens special."

She reached over the cash register and pushed buttons for what seemed to be an eternity. "That'll be seven more cents please." she smiled.

I carefully reached my hand up to the counter…

"And you can't get away this time by saying you'll bring the money tomorrow because today is my last day ... " she rambled on…

...1 grabbed hold of the pen with trembling fingers and took off in a full sprint for the exit. I ran through three security guards and a cop in the street as a crazed lady screamed bloody murder behind me.

"Stop thief! Help! Police! A robbery, help!” she wailed on.

I gave the policeman a straight-arm as I headed out the door, kicking the gun from his hand as he pulled it from his belt. I shoved the pen into my pocket and ran off down the street. People were chasing and hollering, dogs were barking and sirens were wailing as I made a clean get-a-way.

I never stopped running until I was into my house and safe from pursuers. I plopped down on the nearest chair and pulled out my "hot" pen. I had paid A dollar and five cents for a pen that had let-loose during the chase, and now my pocket was stained with wet ink. Well, black goes with anything. Good thing it wasn’t a blue pen. Even the drops that fell upon my white pants really don’t look too bad. 

This was a pen that I had risked life and limb for as I ran from the law in a narrow escape. I made it, but the pen didn't.

And to think now I had to go back to that store to demand a refund for the defective pen.

I tried the pen anyways and it at least writes (as you can see), though most of its insides are still in my pocket.

So not knowing how long this pen will last will force me to keep my hands clean and save and scrape until I can gather together enough money to be able to go back to that store to purchase another pen (the lady did say it was her last day). So I keep my fingers crossed, hoping the pen will hold out, and I'll make my articles as short as possible to try to save ink. So I would end it here ... but I still have so much to say. The story goes on, how I wish it did end here.

I went to bed that night dreaming of murderers and car thieves. I hardly was able to get any sleep what with all that running.

And it wasn't until late this morning, after I was up for over an hour, that I finally got fully awoke when I opened up my mail. I found a letter from "that" store with a credit card in it.

A pamphlet also came with the letter, describing all the great uses of my new "Super Card" and ways to spend more money with it.

The smile faded, rather quickly, from my face when a small piece of paper fell from the envelope. As I bent to pick it up I could see that it was a bill.

Yes, seven cents was charged to my account. But then I noticed the total due at the bottom and that smile that left me before came back… upside down.

"There must be some mistake!" I thought aloud.

I waited for an answer, but didn’t know what to say…

I owed three dollars and fifty-eight cents! I went for my coat, psyching myself up to go back to that store to demand an explanation for that extra three dollars and fifty-one cents.

Then I noticed that the total did add up to three dollars and fifty-eight cents! It was a good thing I had noticed this before I marched back down to that store and made a fool of myself.

Sure, they were only charging me seven cents from the other day. But then there is the tax on that seven cents, which brings the total up to eight cents. The other three dollars and fifty cents is for the service charge.

                                                  A credit to be yours,

èim  Uhr

P.S:

Now I don't have to worry about having the correct change when I go to that          store. I can always charge my pens. 

Credit???    

           Are pens a Major purchase?

My bill is small...

If I can't pay my bill maybe I'll give Jack a call

Is there a Reason To Write?

Reason To Write

Is my writing all in vain?

Well, it is true that writing makes my heart beat. But does anyone else really care? Probably not…

But does that stop me?

Should it?

…Yes – But will it?

If you see more writing following, you can assume that it didn’t. But let’s analyze whether or not it should stop me. Then I will decide if it will.

If I have one, or maybe even two, readers who have read at least one article before without gagging, then, surely it would be reason enough to go on. But at this point we are assuming that this isn’t so – and we are probably safe in making this assumption. Even if we aren’t totally safe in drawing this conclusion that I have no readers, let’s just do so to make it more fun.

So now that we (?) have established the fact that I have no readers we are one step closer to determining whether I should go on or give up right here.

So maybe it should be assumed that I should’ve already lost my will to go on. After all what is the sense in a writer writing if a reader isn’t reading what the writer has been writing in hopes to have readers read what he has written. Am I right in writing believing that the only reason a writer writes is to have readers read him? Maybe not in all cases. Because in certain circumstances the casual consensus is that curtain calls are considered contrary to the conventional caliber of cases where cheering can cheapen cherished classics.

I think the main reason I write is for therapy of the soul. Writing focuses my cosmic illusions of space and the vacuums of the mind into forms none telepathic, and through sensations in my temples and in ways to guide my fingers, thus enabling me to control said fingers to place these transmissions down on paper in the two dimensional world of common folk, enabling them to somewhat relate to the though processes of a much higher form.

It would also really be nice to have one or, getting really wild, two readers. I mean, so what if the whole world could understand the complex workings of an advanced mind if there is nobody there to read them. Although writing is a form of self-expression, what good is it if there is nobody there to see my expressions?

So strike down that last (and only) reason to write.

Is there another reason I write that I can dig up from the recesses of my mind? This should be easy to find because my mind is always on recess.

So as I brush back the cobwebs to search for other meanings to my methods, I remember the thing that started me writing in the first place. The local Dime Store was running a sale, and amidst a table of junk with wrappers torn, and boxes bruised and faded, I came across a pack of ten pens. Ten Papermates for Fifty cents. I reached into my pocket to find two quarters, and I knew, from that moment on, that something cosmic was happening in the fabric of time. The Universe would never be the same!

With ten pens sitting on my nightstand I eventually took to making scribbles on paper to waste some of the ink on hand. But my advanced mind soon grew bored of the simplistic subtleties of common swirls and masses of stickmen armies. Circles only went backwards or forwards, and upon completion it was hard to tell a forward one from a backward one, even though I spent much time alkalizing them. Stick figures can only have a smile, a frown, or a straight line across their faces. And their bodies are all skinny. I’ve never seen a fat stick man. Sure, use a magic marker and you may get one that’s well-built, but you still would be stretching things to call him fat. A stout stickman is rare. When you go past the point of stout stickmen you’re getting into abstract art, and I lose interest and patience.

So after a few years I grew bored with scribbles. But when I finally reached a point where I could not tolerate one more scribble nor coordinate one more stick man, I found that I still had one more pen on hand. Most of the ink from all the pens was actually still on hand, for I tend to get more ink on my hand than the paper. But eventually it washes off.

Could I let this last pen go to waste? Did I waste my hard earned money when I could have settled for nine pens? Did I waste someone else’s precious time and effort in creating this pen? Would the manufacturer, whose product was going to waste, seek personal revenge on me? Would that last, lonely pen throw it’s insides all over my drawer in frustration? Would I wake one morning dead, the police finding the pen thrust through my heart? Who would the main suspect be – the pen, the manufacturer, or my future readers?

I took that pen, fearing all of the above, and scratched meaningless words onto a paper in straight lines all the way across it and continued for the whole length of the page. I called myself a Writer, because I don’t want to be known as a wrong Uhr.

So there you have it. That is the reason for my writing. The facts are all in – now, should I quit or continue? Seeing that my pen is almost out of ink… I think that it’s time to quit.

Ultimately the decision comes down, not to a lack of thoughts and subjects, nor to a lack of readers… but a lack of ink.

Entropy wins out in the end.

Yes, this is my last article…

                                                                       Farwellingly Yours,

       èim  Uhr

P.S.   I’m going to take a trip down to that dime store,

          if it’s still around. I’m bringing fifty-three cents.

Last Song              No, Actually this is the last song

Wait a minute maybe...

 Quitter!!!

Jerks are only human

Jerks Are Only Human

"The trouble ain't that people are ignorant: it's just that they know so much that ain't so." – Josh Billings.

I'm sure that everyone has had an encounter with a jerk. Just to clarify things, a jerk is someone who is dumber than you. If you don't know very many jerks that means that many people consider you to be a jerk. To be a jerk is not necessarily bad, everyone is someone else's jerk. A jerk is neither good nor bad. A jerk just is.

Did you ever take the time to get to know a jerk? I mean, did you realize that they're people too. Dumbness is not necessarily a qualification for one fitting the jerkism category. I have known some very intelligent jerks in my day.

It is common to have, at one time or another, said or thought, "Hey, that persons a jerk!" But have you ever thought about whether or not that person can help it? Maybe he was born that way. No one knows for sure if jerkism is hereditary or not. Is it in their genes? Should a person be ridiculed and condemned for something that they have no control over?

Is it fair? Doesn't anyone care? Do people have to stare? Do they always get into innocent beings hair? Do they really foul the air? Do they come only as a pair? A jerk! – where?

In honor of those afraid to stand up and admit to jerkism I officially declare that for one week a year, from this day forward, all will celebrate a National Jerk Week. Parades and festivities will be forthcoming.

There are many ways to celebrate this grand occasion, and I'm sure that many more will surface once word hits Wall Street and People Magazine.

So take a jerk to dinner without laughing as food drips down his chin. Smile at a jerk (Don't Laugh!) when she does something dumb. When a mechanic works on your car, who you find later to be a jerk because your car runs worse than when you brought it to him, don't say anything about the problems, just pay with a smile. When you listen to a jerk weatherman and have a picnic on a "beautiful day", just keep quiet and eat the soggy, rain soaked, sandwiches. Please remember, at least for this one week, if a jerk smiles – try to refrain from knocking out all his teeth.

If a jerk is crying for no reason – don't give him one.

If a jerk is dying of laughter – don't tell your favorite joke to him, he probably wouldn't understand it anyway.

If you see a jerk pounding on the chest of your mother, who is suffering, not from a heart attack, but from sunburn – calmly point out what he is doing wrong.

If a jerk puts out his cigarette on your waterbed-- don't suffocate him with your pillow.

If a jerk criticizes your writing – don't stab him with your pen.

If a jerk is driving his car in the wrong direction on an exit ramp on interstate 999 – please don't honk at him, it will only add to his problems.

Even though a jerk is calling your mother names as he hangs from a 2,000 foot ledge – help him.

If a jerk is taking you to lunch this week – offer to pay half the bill.

But how does one spot a jerk if he wishes to take one to lunch as part of one’s civic duty?

 You can usually tell that it's a jerk when …

He stops you, just short of electrocuting yourself as you reach for a light switch, because he remembers that he screwed the bulb in backwards.

When he tells you not to worry as you see your car start to roll, because he cut the wheel toward a brick wall so it wouldn't roll out into the street.

When he heaves rocks through your window to see if you are up before he knocks on your door because he doesn't want to make you mad by waking you.

When he won't answer his ringing phone knowing that it doesn't work, because every time he dials his own number it's busy.

He is the biggest fan of a team that is a rival of your favorite team,

When you ask him for the keys to your car and he tells you not to worry because they are locked safely in the car.

When he takes an umbrella into the swimming pool because of the 100% chance of rain today.

When you realize he was going to take you to dinner this week…

How can you tell if you are a jerk – so you can know to skip food shopping this week?

When you are constantly lending your car to jerks.

When people are calling you weeks in advance to reserve a dinner date with you this week.

When you step into the shower before adjusting the temperature.

When you can't tell the time because the little  “ : ”  burned out on your digital watch.

You throw out your pens when the wax runs out.

You can't tell the eminent from the facetious.

You are in charge of blindfolding the condemned man in front of a firing squad, and when the handkerchief rips you curse by saying, "Shoot!"

You find a ten-dollar bill in front of an apartment complex and spend the rest of the day looking at all the mailboxes for the name Hamilton.

You wear a windbreaker because you’re feeling gaseous.

You have a solar lighting system installed inside your house.

You read in the dark because bright lights give you eyestrain.

You want to wear glasses because they make you look intelligent.

You try to fall asleep, but your vivid dreams keep waking you.

You want to wear contacts because you want to change your eye color.

You have at select times proved that it is possible to trip up stairs.

You read articles by people who write about dumb things…

                                                              Leaving you Dumbfounded,

                                                            èim  Uhr

                   P.s.      To all my readers —                 

   Eat a light breakfast all week. 

Some Smart People(my readers???)

Dating Stupidity (caution - watch at own risk!)

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