Byzantine Comcast

Comcast customer service at their facilities is byzantine in its procedures. To drop off the old modem which they will assuredly throw away they wanted to have me check in and wait in the cue. They took the modem off my hands to scan it for the account info and handed me a ticket for when I would be called up to complete the return and be given a receipt. The most silly bugger part of this is the amount of action taken to queue me up was more than the actual return process. If the bureaucratic silly buggers set up the correct process the return would have been done by the time the clerk printed the queue ticket. But nooooo!

Final count: 35 minutes on-site. The day before I had picked up a new router set and was out of there in 10.

I should have been able to just toss it in the trash or recycle it. They would know if it got reused because of its unique MAC address. They won't be using it ever again, so WTF is their problem?

Chemtrails and Flat Earth (PROOF)

Hello, there, chemtrail enthusiasts. Hello to you flat earth devotees too. Boy do I have some news for you silly buggers.

Yeah, man is altering the chemistry of the atmosphere in a big way. Nature is doing its part too. We are creating a dire effect from which we might not recover in the next couple of centuries. Those high-altitude jets are spewing hydrocarbons and aerosol water droplets into the atmosphere making weird clouds and odd rainbow effects. Maybe our sperm counts are being reduced and our brains being usurped by aluminum strands and barium isotopes. Have you looked at your Willie lately? Is he noticeably smaller these days? That is not a Mandela Effect. It's your eye sockets which have been altered and your kidneys are higher up in your ribcage. Your brain case is thicker now making for less room for gray matter. It's the impacts of too much CO2 in the air.

That human CO2 is loaded by the exhaust from our cars, our cruise ship, the oil supertankers, bovine flatulence, human flatulence, and just our ordinary respiration.

We add 40 billion tons of CO2 into the atmosphere annually. That is no small measure. Do you have any idea how many chemtrail jets would have to fly to equal that amount of CO2? Millions.

A great many conspiracy devotees are convinced there is a, well yes, conspiracy by the Illuminati to depopulate the earth, to control the minds of each and every human on the planet. That jobs is the purview of NASCAR, the NFL and Katy Perry. The Illuminati would be better served by taking the lead of Madison Avenue to show everyone how great their lives would be if their neighbor wasn't gay, or a different skin color or an opposing political party member.

All that carbon! Yeah, some of it is from volcanoes and an-hydrates erupting under the sea, but when you add it all up you get an ELE in slo-mo. I didn't forget the flat earthers.

In order for the flat earth model to have any credence, it must be covered by an impenetrable dome. So impenetrable is it that amateur rockets bounce off of it and Admiral Byrd's aeroplanes crash into it in the Antarctic and disappear. With this dome above us, there is no way for the heat and CO2 to escape.

We poor humans will suffer hypoxia when the CO2 level rises too much, the oceans die and there are no longer enough plants to turn CO2 into O2. More people means more CO2 and more plastic bottle floating the Pacific.

Maybe CERN will create a new reality where these problems don't exist. Meanwhile I suspect I will have to hold my breath. Yeah, I lied about the Proof, it's still conjecture.

Silly Soccer Ball Feat

Boston Terriers are the most silly bugger of all the canine breeds. They jump around like they were cats. They think they are far bigger and pugilistic then their size denotes. When they grow up along with children, they mature faster and come to believe that they too are people just the older and protective siblings.

Rocky had such a childhood, if childhood can be used to describe the wacky way he became an "adult." Actually he seems to have found the secret of perpetual energy and youth. I suspect that somewhere he has a portrait of himself hidden in some corner that has impressed on it all the sins he committed.

At one year old he swam to Ten Pound Island that is situated 1/4 mile off shore of this seaside community. This was done on Halloween when the water was far too cold for a comfortable swim. The Coast Guard got the report of something moving around on the spit of rock out on the oceanside of the peninsula. The Coasties rescued him and wrapped him in a Mylar thermal blanket to warm his shivering body. Needless to say, Rocky was reunited with his Twins whom he normally treated as his boys.

The boys are grown now and rocky remains at home in what is supposed to be his retirement years. Not one to be marginalized he continues to confound everyone with how he manages to do the things he does. Every so often he manages to sneak out for a swim or to gladhand the patrons at the neighborhood restaurant across the street. He is always welcome and well behaved when weaving in among the tables and people feet. The waiters and waitresses shoo after him in their half-hearted obligation to send him on his way.

Just the other day Rocky confounded me with his latest feat. This photo is of him and my son's soccer ball on my bed. At first glance one would say "so what, that is not anything special." But the reality of the feat is that my bedroom is in a loft above the kitchen and there is only a narrow curved stairway that leads up there. The slope is greater than 45 degrees and has open risers. Now remember dogs don't have thumbs. He has no way to hold a ball that big in his paws and walk notwithstanding going up the steps. The little open frame ball-like object in front of him would be no challenge for him at all. But a soccer ball that is nearly as big as himself is yet another thing altogether.

Remember that part about the swim on Halloween? We still have not found out how he got away. There were no chutes dug under the fences. The chain link parts are six feet high. The wooden pickets were all in place and also six feet high. We haven't been clever enough to figure it out and Rocky is being tight-lipped about it. Except of course when he is being a silly bugger with a warm tongue and a body wiggle.

Computer Simulated Reality Now

There is a contingent of people who firmly believe we are living in a computer generated reality, a Matrix if you will, and therefore are not free to exercise free will or free thinking. I always doubted that supposition as being silly bugger nonsense. Until now.

Physicists, cosmologists and conspiracy theorists alike, suggest that even if not possible now, sometime in the future mankind will have developed technology refined enough to construct a cyber-reality and populate it with digital humans which the inhabitants could not discern from what we see, feel and hear today. Indeed, if they will be able to do it, maybe they have and we are their project(s) locked in the early part of the 21st century (by their design.) The real date might be far later than 2525 CE and we just don't know it.

How many arms do we really have?

My most recent revelation stems from the fact that only a diabolical programmer of life-simulations would ever conceive of the Donald Trump Presidency and all the biz-ar-ray aspect of that Administration. I cannot believe that there sufficient free-thinking free-will people in the United States who would vote such a man into the Office of President. There might be a place for employing the root cause of the Mandela Effect to somehow get the attention of the programmers to turn this simulation around.

Nothing about him or his Administration makes any sense. He himself criticized his opponent, the immediate past President and many others of doing numerous bad things only to be praised for now doing the same and being even more extreme. He's brash, ignorant, low-brow and demeaning to everyone. Even so, the sub-routines keep heaping praise on him. Everything is so non-sequitur. There is no cause and effect taking place. Whenever one would think his actions would sink his brand and make him lose status, it does the opposite. It is like as though Newton's Laws of equal and opposite actions has been replaced with "I'm rubber and you're glue". "You love me because I'm so bad for you." It's like opioids. You know if you take on too much it will kill you, but what the hell, I'm lovin' it.

Only a perverse programmer would build a reality simulation this whacked. That is why I am beginning to believe we ARE living in a computer simulation. 

Comment below with what you think (or were programmed to say.)

Guppy!! The Movie

Guppy!!  The Movie®
By Robert Carlson

It was the middle of the Sixth Millennium of the Fourth Regeneration of the
Epochal Universe known as Solquay.  It was the best of times.  It was the worst of times.
It just didn't get any better than that.  Atlantis was still in its early stages of finer
development where it had the promise of being among the more noteworthy places to
visit when you had a spare decade or two to kill between jobs.

Although Atlantis was on the rise out of the primordial pea soup that was coughed
up when the cosmic dust settled after the Fourth Calamity that ended the Third
Regeneration of the Epochal Universe of  Solquay, it was not destined to  live for very
long.  What was to befall the elegant Atlantis was a goofup of mind boggling proportions,
and of its own creation. Little did the great thinkers of that great civilization in that great
land on that great watery globe in that puny Universe of Solquay know, they were
assuring their own downfall long before the Fifth Calamity would crush out all traces of
the great works and achievements of the elegant Atlantis anyway.

Women set out in boats every morning to cull from the water millions of tiny
harmless fish with which the great Atlantiseans would stuff their insatiable mouths. The
fish multiplied prodigiously during the Second through Fifth Millennia after they first
evolved and before they were hunted to near extinction by the insensitive fisherwomen of
Atlantis.  Thus was the rise and fall of the noble little guppy.

Hundreds of harpoon wielding dinghies made a flotilla of death dealing debris
upon the waters that encircled the legendary city.  From the decks of the dinghies the
women cast guppy nets upon the fertile water and hauled in masses squirming gasping
guppies.  Their silent cries fell on deaf ears.  But who cares, you cannot hear silent cries
anyway.  And even if the cries could be heard, the ears were deaf.  So either way the
guppies were screwed.  What does a guppy net look like anyway?  They were one of the
few remaining artifacts that washed up on the shores of the New Federation Land and
was ultimately put to good use.  They made numbered jerseys for sports contestants  out
of it, after seeing no other worthwhile value in it.  It tore easily so no one could get a
good grip on the contestant.  Guppies were not very strong.  The harpoons were to fight
off the fishing competition.  Though the Atlantiseans were civilized they believed in free
market enterprise and a competitive spirit.  

In the Early Centuries of fishing, the task was a formidable one, what with all
those tiny hooks and all.  A woman could barely eke out a living fishing all day and into
the night.  And then she could bring in only a half a dinghy load at a time at that.  But
with the invention of the guppy net, all hell broke loose for the guppy population, and the
Great Decimation began.  It all started when one fisherwoman, too tired from long hours
at sea, forgot to take the rollers out of her hair before shoving off in the morning.
Normally, no woman of Atlantis would have been caught dead at sea with less than
perfectly coifed tresses, but that day changed history.  It began the eventual downfall of a
great civilization.  You heard it here first, folks.  A woman went out to work with curlers
in her hair and a civilization fell because of it.

It seemed all so benign at first.  There she was, a hooker of great talent, hooking
and hauling in the guppies with the best of them.  Two, three, four.  She was going great
guns.  But then a great gust of wind blew across the beam of her craft.  It blew so strong
that it took the hairnet right off of her head.  It landed in the water near the starboard side
(that's redundant.)  Boy was she pissed.  Her hair would be a mess all day now.  But
fortuitous for her, and to the eventual chagrin of all Atlantiseans, when she retrieved her
curler protection, it was filled with tens, nay hundreds, of tiny squiggling delicious
guppies.  All their lives were instantly transformed in that moment of discovery.

The other women saw the evidence when this lone female started back into port
before the sun was hardly above the Eastern horizon with a brimming load of still fresh
guppy spilling over the gunwales of her dinghy.  On her head was her hairnet with a
wriggling guppy or two still tangled in its fibers.

The next day she put to sea as early as before but with a bigger boat.  She returned
just as early as on the day of the Great Discovery.  The other women were sorely amazed
and sore to boot.  They wanted to know this woman's secret.  But she was not telling.
There was a secondary benefit to returning to shore early in the morning while all the
other women were still toiling far out at sea.  Men.  She had all of the men to herself.
And she could buy the favors of any one she pleased.  That was more difficult than one
would first imagine, what with the smell of a million guppies on your body (and in your
hair) and all.

But the mere release from drudgery of long hours of guppy angling day after day,
week after week, month after month, year after year, decade after decade, --- ENOUGH
Already!  Made her discovery well worthwhile.  It was not long before the other
fisherwomen were catching on to the new style of wresting sustenance from the sea.  A
collective moan arose from the placid waters giving omen to the thing to come.  It was
the moan of a trillion guppy vocal chords wailing in unison, for that is what they
normally did on a Friday night after a drinking binge.  Salt water when inhaled and
expelled through guppy gills gets them going, greatly gaining, and gradually giddy.  But
this moan grew ever more louder and more ominous.  But no one was listening.
Everyone was drunk in the euphoria of easy living.

All of the women had free time on their hands.  There was time for frivolous
pursuits.  There was time for messing around.  There was time to invent sitcoms and Soap
Oprahs after taking the time to invent a way to watch them.  Women with more time on
their hands than brains in their heads got together with men who had more head in their
hands than brains in their time.  The population of Atlantis exploded.

Still the women went to sea to fish the waters and provide the massive amounts of
protein that the ever expanding population demanded.  Even with every woman bending
her back over the side of a guppy Supertanker, the insatiable masses could not be
satiated. [Duh!]

Soon there arose the most unlikely of heroes.  He was a giant among midgets.  He
was two centimeters in length and almost 5 millimeters tall.  He was Mr. Guppy, if you
will.  He had a mission, a dream, to save the seas for all guppydom.  His plan was a
simple one, but hard to implement.  Each time he had a suitable knowledgeable
following, they were guppynetted right out of existence.  Others proclaimed, "Oh, what is
the use?  What can one guppy do to save all guppykind?"  It was true.  One guppy alone
could not save the species from extinction.  Except if he did one thing:  Spread the Word.
 
Mr. Guppy, Superguppy, as he came to be known, was able to change the world.
His plan was laid, the cooperation suitably obtained, the Atlantiseans would rue the day
that saw the invention of the "guppynet."

It was the Last Day.  The fisherwomen set out in their monster guppy grabbers
just like the day before.  But this day was different.  There was something imperceptibly
different about the sea that gray morning.  The sun was barely up from the horizon.  Its
golden rays shimmered on the lightly choppy waters.  What was not obvious to the
women was that the prevailing currents behind them flowed west, those in front of them
flowed east.  Similarly, the currents on the portside went north, and the starboard currents
flowed south.  As the sun crept higher into the morning sky, the currents increased
steadily.  Soon the waves began to show whitecaps, and the water became more choppy.
There was no wind to account for the odd conditions of the sea.  Normally a gale force
wind was necessary to produce such conditions.  But there was no gale. And even if a
storm was brewing, this would be the calm before it.

The seas became too rough to put the nets out.  If they were deployed, it was
probable that they would become entangled in themselves and be useless.  Soon the
center of the sea began to drop.  The Skipesses of the fishing vessels became alarmed as
the ships began to drift toward the center of the depression.  By mid-morning, the
depression had grown quite deep and the currents quite fast.  The guppy vessels were
being carried around in a circular motion orbiting the depression, getting closer in on
each pass.  No one was able to comprehend the magnitude of what was happening.

By noon the depression had become a full blown whirlpool.  Ship after ship
succumbed to the maelstrom and slipped beneath the icy waters of the turbulent sea.  By
three o'clock the last fishing tanker had sunk in the swirling waters.

Down below, Superguppy, and his legions were completing their plan.  The word
had been spread and it was simple:  Just follow Mr. Guppy.  Ten trillion obedient guppies
fell into place behind their leader and swam behind him, and he behind them.  They had
formed a great guppy school and merely swam tirelessly.  They thought he was leading
them to a promised land were no one ever heard of guppynets.  But what he had
accomplished was to create a giant circular school of swimming guppies.  Their multitude
pressing through the water made the whirlpool that took all of the fisherwomen to a
watery grave.

Atlantis, itself, too, was sucked into the funnel and lost at the bottom of the sea,
never to arise again.  It was better to drown in a few minutes than to starve while so much
food smirked just beneath the surface of the water, waiting.  Waiting for a brave
Atlantisean to again set toe to water.

The guppies gained an unexpected bounty from their victory.  No longer were
guppies people food, people became guppy food, and their numbers multiplied out of all
proportions.

THE END….or is it?