Smile

“Hey, who let in all these elephants?
Did you know that elephants are made of elements?
Elephants are mostly made of four elements
And every living thing is mostly made of four elements
Plants, bugs, birds, fish, bacteria and men
Are mostly carbon, hydrogen, nitrogen and oxygen

Come on come on and meet the elements
You and I are complicated, but we’re made of elements
Like a box of paints that are mixed to make every shade
They either combine to make a chemical compound or stand alone as they are”

Meet the elements from the children’s album “Here comes science”; Artists:They May Be Giants
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They all kept saying
How much we look alike
I don’t think that we look alike at all

But I’ll admit that I look more like a chimp
Than I look like my cousin the shrimp
Or my distant kin the lichens
Or the snowy egret or the moss
And I find it hard to recognize
Some relatives of ours
Like the rotifer, the sycamore
Iguanas and sea stars

My brother the ape
My brother the ape

My Brother the Ape from the children’s album “Here comes science”; Artists:They May Be Giants
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Navratri Kheer Craving Crack
http://www.nanakfoods.com/upcoming.htm

All hail Guru Nanak.

Lost and 2BuckChuckAnna

I was feeling really strongly about something before I came here. Now I forgot. So much for strength of thought.

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Confession: I am addicted to Lost. I seriously believe that if modern day fiction has shifted to the visual medium, then Lost is the best fiction I have ever encountered. It’s got a lot of bullshit of course – like radio hookups that won’t happen and will happen when you want them with a piece of red twine and can call London from a frikking freighter which is causing people to time travel to a Royal Scottish Regiment and a mouse dies trying the same —–. What I am REALLY happy about. Netflix has Seasons 1 through 4 for online streaming. For the past two weeks, barring a few exceptions, all my evenings have been spent planning a departure from the living area without being noticed by my roomies and then crawling into bed and watching back to back episodes of Lost. Things came to a head yesterday when I took half of the day off from the indulgence hangover that consisted of sore swollen eyes a headache and a general inability to stop thinking about what would happen next. I was even dreaming about John Locke and Kate Austen and Jack Shepard in a flight and on an island.

What I am really grateful for is that I started watching Lost at a period of time when I have access to 5 full seasons. What I hate about this is that I don’t have access to Season 6 yet. The waiting and anticipation for good fiction is unbearably nail hurting and cuticle peeling.

With that purged out of my system, I strongly encourage anyone who hasn’t had a good time in a LONG time to invest in a few DVDs and give their mental stimulations a healthy boost. I mean c’mon – if you could believe and enjoy and relive Gondor and Elves and Gandalf and appreciate a good story with a twist every second, Lost is totally up your alley. Brilliance I say.

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My roomie Anna – she wakes up at 6 45 am – is at work by 7 45 – works till 4 30 pm – comes back and goes for a bike ride or a speed skating expedition every evening – comes back all sweaty and high from an endorphin orgasm – and then showers, cooks, smokes, up, and drinks between 1 to 2 bottles of wine – and finishes her day with a Haagen Daaz ice cream stick at 1 am. The same time as when I have been falling asleep in the days before Lost. However, on a day I get less than 8 hours of sleep, exercise or a walk for me goes right out the Dee-Oh- Oh- Are.

This morning I look at her looking up at me grumpily in the morning as I left for work and I asked her what did I do to earn the stare. She said she was sore from the 20 odd miles of speed skating she did yesterday.

I asked her how does she do it- that after the 2 bottles of 2buckchuck she sent the previous night.

She said, in truly Annaesque style:
Coffee, carbs, supplements, vitamins, ice cream – whatever it takes!

It’s Friday morning at 9 45 am and I am thinking when was the last time I wanted to do whatever it takes for anything at all. I’m chewing on it.

Baby Squirrel Rehabilitation

So our new roomie – A – majorly into biking hence knows lots of mountain biker friends – brought home this little thing yesterday.

Behold! A baby squirrel:

Because I don’t have the actual pics handy as I type this – and I did take pics of course – we’ll use one from the web.

So anyhoo:
Apparently – this little critter needs to be fed every 2 hours – even thru the night – crawls around – and hasn’t opened it’s eyes yet. And after feeding you need to take a wet cotton ball and rub its genitals – to make it pee and shit.

A of course thinks her friend is nuts. She asks him “S – what happened to your biking morals. Squirrels are the guys who try to jump under your wheels when you are biking at high speeds and cause you to crash. ” But that’s only A’s way of having fun and making fun of the situation.

What S has done is:
- Put the little guy in a moving box.
- Put a heating pad under 2 pillow cases.
- Put in a meat thermometer that measures the temperature of the box so we can maintain it at a steady 90 F.
- Made a box of dog puppy formula.
- Given us a box of Gatorade.
- One syringe minus the needle is the titties the little guy feeds off of.
- Put in a warm blanket on top to protect him.
And called it a day. He’s off to Nevada to see a biking show while A sticks around out here and takes care of the little guy. This house has one new species taking our time and attention now.

The dog in the house – Molly – freaks out every time we open the box.

So I went online to do a little bit of reading on how to take care of a squirrel. More reading for anyone who cares – Baby Squirrel Rehabilitation. Supremely interesting I say.

From the fact that we just aren’t equipped to take care of this little thing and how we can only try – baby caring is a journey of immense discovery.

Two things

“You talk when you cease to be at peace
With your thoughts;
And when you can no longer dwell in the
solitude of your heart you live in your lips,
And sound is a diversion and a pastime.
And in much of your talking, thinking
Is half murdered.
For thought is a bird of space, that in a
cage of words may unfold its wings but cannot fly.”

-Khalil Gibran

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Someone thought of Charles Babbage:
http://www.harkavagrant.com/index.php?id=5

I feel immense respect for creative genius that feels compelled to visualize and explore the dark crevices of the defining pillars of history. It’s after all informative of where we come from and also don’t come from.

Deifying the dei

Deifying the dei

Maybe this is what de-i-fying really means.

Removing the ‘I’s in expression and then re-evaluating what will remain expressed to get an non-”self adorned” measure of the value in the expression. If the sentiment and expression doesn’t fall apart, there may be some value in expressing it. It might even make it to aphorism of the day.

It’s so mathematically obvious.

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PS: This is an opinion.