Bogus Lies (and) Ordinary Greatness

I started, what I call, articlulate writing years and years ago. Some of it was free associate writing, automatic writing, or what ever you chose to call it. It was, and still is, a fun outlet for me. Some of it, no one has ever read before. A lot of it .... maybe nobody should...


Showing posts with label death. Show all posts
Showing posts with label death. Show all posts

Saturday, April 18, 2015

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.





Wednesday, September 4, 2013

Endings


E n d i n g s
                                                                                  By «im Uhr


She sat alone in the gazebo.
            The wind blew her hair. But there was no one there to see the rumpled mess it was becoming. She didn’t try to brush it, for she had no brush even if she wanted to. The wind blew hair into her eyes, causing tears. But there was no one there to wipe them.
She starred off into nothingness, for there was no one else to look at.
She was alone.
A cold breeze blew past her. The weather was changing. Summer was ending. Autumn was creeping in, like a thief in the night. One day it was summer, but sometime in the middle of the night, while no one was watching, the leaves started to turn, birds got ready for their long flights, and cool breezes sunk up on you. Now at night it was wise to carry a jacket, an extra layer of protection.
Autumn brought many things to an end; Ice cream, Baseball, Swimming, Walks in the park, Bike riding, and Love affairs…
She didn’t need to know reasons. Things ended. Autumn came. Winter would soon follow. It’s just they way things were.
She wiped a final teardrop from her eye and headed home alone. Before winter came. 

The end.

Alone Again                      'Nother sad song
                                       ALone

Friday, June 28, 2013

Do You Care?


DO YOU CARE?

I was driving down the highway just when afternoon rush hour was letting up a bit. My exit was coming up and I maneuvered over to the right lane. I thought about putting on my headlights, but I also think about taking piano lessons, and numerous other things that I should do, all the time. Having my headlights on wouldn't have helped me see but it was that twilight time of day when oncoming and passing traffic is much more easily seen when they have their headlights on. But since I don't take piano lessons, I didn't have my headlights on. Anyway, as I was exiting off the ramp, I noticed that the guy in front of me was acting as if he were looking for a parking spot in the middle of the exit ramp. It really wasn't that astute of an observation seeing as if I didn't have a windshield I could have reached out and stolen his rear license plate, or if I would have turned on my windshield washer I would have sprayed his trunk, and I'm sure that I'm exaggerating to say that my wiper blade would have combed his hair (because he was wearing a hat). So I hope the picture of him going too slow is clear, and if it isn't let me just clarify it by saying that he was motoring at a insignificant fraction of the 45 M.P.H. speed limit posted. Though the ramp was wide enough for two cars it wasn't meant to be a two-lane ramp, just an extra wide one-lane ramp.
I decided to be a good citizen and not jam up traffic as this car was going to do if he kept at this pace. Did I mention that it was a blue Chevy? I'm not sure what year, because that is not one of my talents, and honestly the only way I even knew that it was a Chevy is because it have small, steel lettering above the keyhole to the trunk. I don't know why I mention the fact that the car ahead of me was a blue Chevy seeing as it has nothing to do with the story, and the outcome of the story would not be changed even if it had been a Ford. I think the only one who it would have mattered at all to was the owner. And since who the owner of that car, that could have just as well been a ford, but, in fact, was a Chevy, is doesn't matter I think I'll just forget about it. So, seeing as I am such a good citizen, I decided to pass this blue Chevy, whose owner isn't significant to the storyline, on the exit ramp that was wide enough for two cars, but probably made for one.
To make a long story short ... I hit a Beaver as I was passing another car. I saw its eyes look up at me seconds before I felt its furry body under my wheels. I'm sure that if you would consider one of those Bearskin rugs to be dead then you would second my opinion that this Beaver was dead. I knew it as soon as I looked in my rear view mirror.
After I felt my tires pass over him I slowed down a little but when traffic started catching up to me I put my foot to the gas and drove home. No, I didn't stop. I already own a bearskin rug…
I forgot about the incident at the next traffic light. The only reason I remember it now is because I needed something to write about. When my conscience asks me if I feel bad for killing a Beaver I shrug and say, "I don't care." Actually I don't say it aloud, I just think it so that no one thinks I'm weird for talking to myself. People might think me weird for shrugging for no reason, but not for talking to myself.
Now I admitted a situation I was involved in where I really didn't care about the outcome, where someone else might have. What I would like to know from you is if you care about things such as whether your next-door neighbor has a job or not?
Do you really care about the starving children of Hollywood or where ever? Don’t you leave food on your plate in a restaurant sometimes, and then afterward find that you're still hungry and pick up a snack somewhere else?
Do you give to charities? What a noble and forthright human being you are! I bet you also like the tax deductions. Would you still give the same amount to charities if it wasn't tax deductable?
Oh, I know you. You work for one of those Endangered Animal organizations, don't you? Do you really care when a species becomes extinct? Why does it seem you only crusading for the cute ones?
Are you one who fights to get the violence taken off T.V.? I bet you're also one of those gawkers who slow traffic to look at accidents to see if there is any blood. The violence in real life promotes the violence on the tube. When there is a bad accident I like to watch the passers by, safe in their cars. More people turn toward the accident, counting off bodies on their fingers, than people who turn away searching through their glove compartments for an old Burger King bag to show their inner feelings. And the networks know this! Violence sells -- it's clear and simple. The viewing public wants to see blood and gore, both in real life and on the screen. If enough people were turned off by it they would turn off their sets and the networks would get the message a lot faster than from the few hundred letters from the "weird" portion of the population. The rumor that T.V. sets explode if off for more than fifteen hours a day is not true! You can turn it off. T.V. withdrawal is not fatal, nor are the symptoms permanent.
Maybe T.V. is the best thing that has happened to the modern world. Maybe it keeps all the gooks minds blank so their warped minds can't function and find destructive things to do with their idle time. Maybe T.V. is beneficial. I hate to think of what the "Dukes of Hazards" fans might do if they had the extra time on their hands. We should be thankful that there is enough worthless broadcasting to keep these type of people busy sitting in front of their boxes day and night.

So do you really care about starving children, endangered animals, charities, auto accidents, and T.V. programming? Be honest now…

Honestly Yours,
èim  Uhr


P.S.   I care about all those things…
Oh yea, about the Beaver story,
I just made it up. I knew it would
be easier for me to get you to admit
 to all your faults if I pretended that
 I had one of my own.










Sunday, May 13, 2012

A Light Beyond


A    L I G H T   B E Y O N D



Endings always come to fast. Indeed, I've heard it said before, but up until now I have never believed it. Throughout my life I have experienced that in most of my relationships, endings don't come fast enough to suit me. I have always pushed to reach conclusions, in movies, especially books, and even in relationships. But as I sit where I have sat for the past twelve hours, only the direction I'm facing having changed, alone, through a long night, I think about endings corning too fast. Endings always come at last, maybe that's why they seem to come too fast. If they are to truly come at last, then once you have an ending it has to be the end, there is nothing more. It seems the reason I have never before feared endings, is because I always assumed there would be more. After a movie ends, just take a stroll down to the next theatre and see Rambo #12. After turning the last page of a book, picking up another and starting on page one. After saying good-bye to a temporary friend, although they never seem to catch on to this fact until it's too late and they wind up hurt, saying hello to a new one.
But what if this is the last movie to be made? What if after this book I find that there are no others? What if the last girl I have said good-bye to, is also the last one I will ever say hello to. The word "end" never meant the same thing to me as it did to other people. This is a realistic approach, but is it the better? Have I been living my life to the fullest? I may be taking too many things for granted. Is it truly living if you don't die with every flower as the cool winter wind cuts through your petals?
I have been living like I know that I'll always be living. But all things must pass. Once I did believe that endings would come and go, flowers will die and grow, precipitation turns from rain to snow. But now as I sit here in this field alone, I'm not so sure I know. What page are the answers on? Although I finish the book, will I ever be given a change to go back and reread? Those pages I skipped over may be important…
I watched the sun set, hours ago. But time is nothing but what my memory makes it out to be. Did this memory ever really exist, or is it something that my brain manufactures just to make sense of the present? Do the people around me really exist, or do they just represent pages in my book, with no lives of their own, just waiting for me to read? Once I leave my friends, do they really do the things they say they do? Or does my mind just make them say that to fulfill the need I have to make them appear that they are real? Do other people really form opinions about me, or do I just think they do, pretending that they have any thoughts? Is this just a fail-safe system my mind has worked out to keep me sane? Am I alone?
It can be pretty hard to check your sanity when you're not sure if you're already insane. Is it the rest of the world that's crazy? Every person must feel that they are the only ones who is truly sane in this world, and those that don't feel this way are the ones locked up in the asylums.
As I sit here, waiting, in the grass, legs crossed, I wonder if we each don't, in our minds, build four convenient walls around ourselves. Forever safe, in our individual, custom-made, asylums.
The sky is much lighter than it was just an hour ago. The stars, already starting to fade, are completely blocked by a cloud that drifts overhead. It's a fluffy, average-size summer cumulus cloud, and for a moment I wish that I too were floating, unaware of time, with it.
But things are not always what they seem. The looks of this cloud are deceiving as I know that it weighs at least 550 tons.
So here I sit, expecting nothing except what I expected from the start.
I catch a last glimpse of the moon hanging in the sky, as it in many ways represents the opposite of the sun. The moon, slow and cold, while the sun is fast and hot.
Endings always come too fast. The sun, at first peeks over the horizon, then bursts into the now bright sky. Though its warmth seems immediate, it is not enough to dry a tear from my cheek.

Endings always come at last.
Though a new day is beginning, what can be said of tomorrow?
There's a fine line between the darkness and the dawn…

                                                             Lastingly True,
      èim  Uhr


P.S. Time doesn't pass too fast. It’s all relative. For along
        the Earth's equator, dawn arrives at 1,000 m.p.h.
        But along the moons equator, it comes at only
        10 M.P.H. — slow enough for a man on
        bicycle to keep up with it.


Sane?                    More craziness 

                          Many good Crazy songs!