Wednesday, April 1, 2009
Prague doomsaying! You heard it here last!
One of my oracular* coworkers came by just now to say that "this guy in Prague" (pictured, left) has prophesied that someone will set off a nuclear device (quickly assessed to be one of those "Russian suitcase nukes") on Friday when the President is in the Czech Republic. This, according to some "ancient text." I can just see it:
A leader of a great nation will come to the land of vampyres [sic] and his wife will look snazzy in her J. Cru [sic]. He likes to play the game of baskets and balls, is very personable then BOOM.
Anyway, if this comes to pass, you heard it here first!
* Also, speaking of matters Oracular..., I hadn't given a damn about MGMT all that much, but this song is killer, I have decided:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bIEOZCcaXzE
Talk of the Clouds
The sense of ease in friendships in the afterlife does not fail to surprise
in its felicitous serendipity. Looking out over the skyey blue panoply of souls,
both the celebrated and reknownless, an atmosphere of gracious solicitude,
instant then quickly hardening into permanence, prevails. As one
breakfasts with an unlikely troika of, say, the pop star Farrokh Bulsara (better known as
Freddie Mercury), a jolly wet-nurse who died by her own hand weeks before the
Great London Fire of 1666 and a Chicago child who fell to his death from the
window of a burning civic project building in 1973, the seeming randomness
reveals itself to not be random at all; the wry exchanges and shared drolleries
are in fact felt with a common rightness, a bond from the shared
experience that is having once been alive. The trickery of cosmic
all-knowingness bends toward comedy: golfing with Ben Franklin and other new
acquaintances, one laughs as this founding father makes a joke about a
"Slazenger 7." That Goldfinger came out 173 years after his death is
immaterial. On contemplation of how Emerson was so correct in his intimations of
the Over-soul, one can zip easily over to his mind to express one's
admiration.
Ommipresent is the triumphal certitude that there is nothing to fear.
As ever - cats are the answer!
Three posts in for the month and no cats? This situation must not stand!
Here!:
In the quest for everyone to live forever, cats will lead us to regenerating nervous systems, etc! I guess! Didn't read the whole thing, my eyes started to glaze over!
However, my HEART raced at the prospect of getting one of THESE (turning 71 on May 19th, hint hint):
Think of the Bride and I each with one of our girls poking a fuzzy face through the porthole of one of these numbers. Like, when we are made to attend some civic "reggae fair" under duress because some friends say it "sounds fun." Picture Biscuit's encased distaste at some 50 year old guy "skanking." Can't you just SEE it?
Another thing about Art Brut
I think certain half-wits believe that because Art Brut have a caustic wit that this somehow makes them a joke or comedy band. This is untrue. See: the manic joy expressed in "Formed a Band," the "why - don't our parents - worry about us?" in "My Little Brother"...the "et cetera!" in newie "Alcoholics Unanimous..."So, if someone sneers "Art Brut? Aren't they a comedy band?" near you today, say "Yes! They are comedy like Jarvis Cocker and World War II!" as you punch them in the nose. No jury will convict!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ji2Mi01J6pw
Speaking of my dad...
Took my dad to the ER yesterday, as he had fallen over twice, according to equally decrepit mom. They're in a bit of a race to fall apart. Anyway, as of this morning he's fine. BP drops when he stands up too fast - hence the fainting/collapsing. All scans looked good, blood and the like were clean, but he was very dehydrated. Not a surprise since the senior living place where my folks live keeps the residents on a strict intake of 2 ounces of drinking water a WEEK! Apparently.ANYway, the old man is laying there and the sweet-young-thing nursing student comes in to give him his EKG tests, affixes any number of Erector Set diodes in various points and then admonishes (amDonishes?) Dad to lie still. Which he duly did. Then, upon test completion, she chirped "Okay! You can move now!"
My dad proceeded to wiggle in the bed! Cos he's allowed to, y'know, move!
Quel goofball!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
