Saturday, January 17, 2009
What to do... What to do...
2:58 pm pst
August 28, 1963. You’re
living in Washington, DC, going to school and working. Your roommate is wanting to go down and hear that
colored guy. I mean, it sounds crazy, but he’s got some good ideas. But mostly,
she just wants to go to see what it’s about. And you think about it. But that’s
a lot of people. And it’s hot. And you’ve got a paper due tomorrow, and
a test on Thursday. And, I mean, what difference is it going to make anyway? So you
20, 2009. You’re working for the US Government and you know they won’t recognize in any way
that it’s Inaugeration Day. An Inaugeration Day diffenent than any we’ve ever seen, except
maybe when George Washington was sworen in for the first time. They won’t set up a TV in the lobby.
They won’t play the speech over the radio. They won’t even glance at the clock.
But, then, I work in an office that, no matter what else it is that they’re supposed to be doing, they give
people jobs. And even more than the jobs, they give people hope. And, you know, it doesn’t
really matter what those jobs are.
Digital Switch Over
It’s like the mothership is coming
and if you’re not there, you’ll be left behind to wander the barren landscape of what used to be earth, occasionally
wandering across other survivors, all going through the motions of being alive, but truly only waiting until their pathetic
lives finally run out, and they’re finally delivered to an afterlife where every TV is cable ready and there is no need
for T-Vo because Heaven is just that way. Happy viewing!
2:58 pm pst
And a parting thought:
What if the Apocolypse has already happened, but we can’t tell the difference?
an almost totally unrelated thought: Is it really necessary to capitalize the word “Apocolypse”?
Are we in danger of confusing it with any other kind of apocalypse?
Or two: And why
isn’t mothership a compound word?
Oh, Those Marques!
As I was driving to work this morning, I saw a marque that said "Grief Recovery
Class." For the life of me, I don't know why anybody would want to recover their grief, much less take a class
to teach them how.
2:49 pm pst
Friday, January 16, 2009
The Leonard K. Bullfinch Newsletter #20
3:38 pm pst
My Fellow Americans,
Yesterday all of America, and maybe even the world, had reason to be proud
when a brave pilot miraculously landed his jet airplane in the icy waters of the Hudson River, saving everyone onboard, even
the peanuts. It was reported that the lives of 150 Christian souls, and perhaps a few others, where perilously
threatened by none other than or so called feathered friends, birds. Whereas no lives were lost this time,
it’s just a matter of time before such an event ends in tragedy. That is, unless immediate action
Therefore, I propose that all birds be required to file
flight plans with the FFA. By doing so, we would be able to prevent the thousands of reported bird and
airplane collisions that happen every year. Why would the birds refuse? After all, aren’t
we protecting them as well? However, those birds refusing to cooperate, or failing to comply with their
flight plans, would be subject to fines, imprisonment, and even the loss of their license. I believe most
birds would learn their lesson if they had to walk south just once.
realize this may be an imposition on those many law abiding birds, such as the sparrows and the titmice, but we should all
be willing to make sacrifices for the overall public good. God knows I have.
I further propose that, in order to handle the massive amount of documentation that this will
entail, we should hire cats. There’s an awful lot of them, and most of the are presently unemployed.
In fact, my cat Whiskers has volunteered to do it for free. Now folks, there’s one patriotic
cat. But I’m sure Whiskers is not alone in his patriotism. Indeed, we are asking
that every American do his... or maybe her... duty, and remind any bird you happen to see that they need to register.
I would suggest using a shotgun.
Thank you for your continued
The Honorable Leonard K. Bullfinch, Senator-at-Large
Don't you suppose, that somewhere, the United States has the coordinates so
we can launch a nuclear missile at Montreal? It's not that we ever intend to... but just in case...
3:36 pm pst
Thursday, January 15, 2009
The Holy Ail
The Holy Grail represents the Quest for the Ultimate. At the same time,
it also represents the quest for the impossible. When confronted with contradictions, I like to do what the Buddha has
taught me -- ignore it. I find that the ability to ignore things comes in quite handy in life. But I digress.
6:22 pm pst
In the spirit of the Quest for the Holy Grail, I haved decided to drink every beer ever made. Not necessarily
every beer, but every kind of beer.
Whereas that in itself would be a difficult, if not impossible,
proposition, I've further complicated the Quest by not keeping track. Of course, that means I'll probably have
to drink more than one kind of beer once, but, then, that's a good thing.
So, at any rate, last night I had
a Samuel Adams' Blackberry-something-or-the-other. Luckily, I have more than one. I've found it's
never a good idea to go on first impressions, especially with beer, and sometimes presidents... but I digress. I'm
not thinking the second one will change my mind. Beer, not presidents.
Still, it's worth drinking what
my wife calls Skunky Beer, because I know somewhere out there, the perfect beer awaits. The beer that Jesus would have
made if He were changing water into beer, not wine.
Now, there's an interesting diversion...
finally, today we're auctioning the last remaining bottle of the Christ Vintage, 0032, from the personal collection of
Pope John-Paul the Next. This wine was made personally by our Lord and Saviour Himself, Jesus Christ, at a wedding
He happened to be attending. We will now consider opening bids of one million five. Do I hear one million six?"
And one final thought: How do people become totally void of a sense of humor?
Things I'd Rather Be Doing Right Now
(In no particular order)
6:07 pm pst
Petting my cat.
Talking with my
Drinking Beer (with a capital "B").
Walking along a beach -- any beach would do, but
I'd prefer it to be decidedly south of New Jersey.
Walking along a beach in Oregon with my daughter.
At home discussing the curviture of the Universe with my son.
Debating capitalism and the rise of the elitest
class with my other son.
Not sitting in a break room drinking rancid coffee watching the clock slowly move toward
the time when I'll have to return to the phone.
Yeah, I know that last one was a negative, and you really can't
be doing a negative... but, Oh well.
(Written much earlier today.)
And While We're On the Subject...
6:03 pm pst
When asking for your phone number, why do people ask if it's your
cell? Why do people volunteer that it is? I mean, what difference does it make?
I need to know if it's your cell number in case, in some sort of weird religous prophecy, every house on the
planet is sucked into the pit of hell, then I know we can still reach you on the phone and remind you that the VCRs that you
had rented from us, even though they, too, are now in the pit of hell... well, you still need to return them."
Do you suppose the president has to fill out a D-219 form to requistion envelops?
And if he doesn't, is there some office manager who's going to bitch at him?
5:57 pm pst
"You simply can't
order an invasion of Berserkistan unless you have first filled out an I-373-W. That would be your bullet requisition,
sir. No. That's a D-373-W.a. Tha's a bullet requisition as well, sir, but you can tell from the
lower case "a" that it's a requisition for small arms' fire."
What's in a Name?
Why is it that, here in Missouri, the city of Ozark isn't in Ozark county?
Washington isn't in Washington county? St. Clair isn't in St. Clair county? And Jefferson City isn't
in Jefferson County? Oh, yeah, and Madison isn't in Madison county, either. But Camdenton is in Camden county.
But does that really count?
5:53 pm pst
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Do you suppose...
Do you suppose there's Arabic Braille? And if so, does it go right to
left? How about Japanese sign language? And if that would go right to left... how?
7:04 pm pst
Why is it that your
high school guidance counselor never mentioned either hunting or gathering as a career choice? How about being a pirate?
Why are there handicapped parking spaces... at Sonic?
I have found it's possible not to think enough,
but is it possible to think too much? If so, how do you know when youv'e thought too much? Should you plan
ahead and get a designated thinker?
If you can have a good laugh, then can you have a bad one? Or is it more
like tuna fish? I mean, what other kinds of tuna are there?
Monday, January 12, 2009
Spreading the Good Word
3:00 pm pst
So... there's this church around the corner from my house, and on the
marquee out front is the message: "You shall know the truth and the truth shall make you odd." My initial
response was: "What the hell?" I'm fairly certain that wasn't the response the local pastor
wanted. So I got to thinking about it. Certainly, the more education one has, the more that person will be different
than the average schmo. It's that whole elitest argument that the Republicans have been selling for years.
You know, the idea that intelligent people are not to be trusted and should even made fun of. But I think this marquee
goes beyond that. After all, they are talking about religion. But then, now that I think about it, it makes perfect
sense. After all, anybody who thinks they know the truth has to be a little odd...