The Talk-Downers

Nobody likes to be disrespected and talked-down to, but we all know people who've treated us that way. It's sad, nut more on that later. In my view, no one should ever be disrespected at any time for any reason. 

 I've told this story a million times but it applies, and I'm proud of myself for sticking to something I decided to do in around second grade. I saw the prototypical class bully talking down to some kid...telling him he was stupid and he was this and that.

 It wasn't rocket science (SCIENCE) but I knew immediately that the kid being talked-down to was a good guy, and the bully was the one with the problem. I decided right then that I'd never treat anyone with disrespect, and I've held that policy until today, even with people who've repeatedly disrespected me. I won't lower myself. 

 Without exception I've found that when you call them out on their behavior, they have answers. They know they're being disrespectful, which in their minds is somehow acceptable, and they know that some people will call them on it, so they're ready. 

 They use the standard tactic from the Narcissist's Handbook, using projection and trying to make it seem like their disrespect is magically your problem. Speaking of magic, the clinical term for how narcissists think is called "magical thinking." I love that. It's worth studying just to learn all the crazy yet official terms for the traits that all narcissists share, such as "Flying Monkeys," "supply" and "narcissistic rage" for starters. 

 They'll try to tell you that you're making things up or you're tripping or whatever, and my favorite- "You're too sensitive." In their skewed way of thinking, it's perfectly okay to treat someone like shit, and if they protest, they aren't tough enough or whatever. Wrong. It's not like you run off crying or anything, and at the end of the day you have to feel sorry for them because deep down they're miserable, angry and empty, and usually evil to some degree, which is where the sadness comes in. You have empathy for them that they're incapable of having for you.

 You can't feel sorry for them for very long though, because they still know how they're acting, and they still know right from wrong. It's their choice to treat you like shit. It's one thing to treat people with disrespect, but it's another thing entirely for them to somehow justify their behavior, let alone try to make it your fault. That's a huge red flag, and someone to avoid if at all possible. 

 At the very least, to most people who don't know what NPD is, they come off as total assholes. Since they possess no empathy and can't put themselves into anyone else's shoes, they don't understand the fact that people think they're assholes. Most people know that disrespect isn't how normal people treat others, but in the narcissist's mind, they somehow think they're winning, by hurling insults and put-downs, just like an angry, spoiled child, which they truly are at their core. A brain that doesn't develop empathy can't develop in other areas, so parts of their brains never mature past about second-grade level. It's freaking crazy...look into it. 

 Anyway there's a hell of a lot to it and as brutal and evil as it is it's also fascinating...just to know that there are people who are wired that way. It explains a lot of bad behavior. We all meet people who talk down to us. The best plan is to avoid them but it's not always possible if they're your boss or in your immediate circle or an ex you share custody with. In those cases, when it happens, there's no reason to let it even bother you. They're the miserable ones. They're the bullies from second grade. You're cool. 

 

Beat It in C Redux and Comments

It hit me this morning that something freaky as fuck had just happened, and I laughed when I remembered that it was that blasphemous version of MJ's Beat It that I heard yesterday. Although a few other notes snuck in here and there, virtually every note is C. I'd never have thought in a million years that something like this could be so mind-bending, and it'd be impossible to describe how horrifying yet beautiful it is. Up until now I've always considered the key of C to be fairly benign. 

 I listened to it again today. It didn't have the impact it had the first two times I listened to it yesterday, and I was actually a bit relieved, but it still tweaked me plenty. I didn't burst into laughing tears again but I felt them coming on. Although not to the same level of comedy and tragedy it was yesterday, I still first cracked up but immediately wanted to weep, and I did get tears. That's nuts.

 They were tears of joy, awe, bewilderment, horror and the sheer power of music that on occasion can screw your brain into the ground. I don't know how this "song" works or how having every note a C can have such an effect, or if there's some back-masking or satanic shit or something going on, but it's absolutely a mind-altering thing, if one can handle it that is. 

 I don't know what the long-term effects of listening to this song might be, because even though it's "natural," it feels like your brain is temporarily altered by some weird drug, like sonic salvia or something. I haven't taken 'shrooms in decades and I'm not about to start, but it almost makes me want to try and find some just to see if I could handle listening to it tripping. It wouldn't be easy. 

 I love reading comments sometimes as much or more than the video or article, and the comments on this song are incredible. Again, I was relieved that I wasn't the only one who had such a startling reaction to it. It was a shared and unexpected experience, like everyone was taking the same weird drug, only it wasn't a drug. Someone should start a fb page, just for this one song. Here's a few of the comments. Dang...copy/paste prints black so I'll have to type them all, and I can't type 10wpm. I'll add my reply to them. 

"This is what music sounds like when you're having a really bad trip." Agreed, and that was my first reaction.

"This song feels like it's hard to breathe." It really kinda does.

"This song makes me feel like I'm screaming and nothing is coming out." Yep, like trying to run in a dream but you can't move forward.

"That's actually not terrible. It's more menacing." Agreed.

"It sounds like a sentient computer is trying to kill you and this is the music that starts playing." That's funny because in one band I was in, our guru Shrader called certain tunes "Music to execute criminals by," and that occurred to me when I heard Beat It in C. Small world. 

"Remember guys, there is a universe out there with everything exactly the same but Beat It sounds just like this." This is a beautiful comment, and believe it or not it's almost certain to be basically true. I'm going to reply to this one. 

"I can hear him trying to change notes but being overpowered by a paranormal force." Yep. It tried to go flat at times and briefly gets another note, but then the "C-Demon" snatches it back to C World.

"They managed to put the feeling of fighting in a dream into a song." Totally.

"This is terrifying because it's better than it should be." Well-said.

"It's like Satan himself told him to beat it." Yes it is.

"HELP ME I'm laughing my ass off. I can't stop, nor can I explain why this is so funny. It's like a never-ending fever-dream loop I can't escape." I hear you.

"I can feel the song trying to break out of the demonic possession of the note C. Brilliant!" Exactly.

"I'm alone in my room laughing in tears, cackling like a lunatic at 4am. This brings profound yet unexplainable joy." Same here. I was laughing and crying at the same time and it flipped me out.

"Imagine 2,000 years later and this is the only music they find about us." Absolutely.

"I'm def hearing other notes but I can't help but feel like I'm hearing some of them in my head. I unironically adore this." Me too.

"This sounds like what it feels like to be awake for three days straight." Very much so.

"Why do I like this? I hope no one ever asks what I'm listening to throughout my day, because this is absurd."  I hear you. No kidding. 

"It's amazing how good this sounds." It is.

"I've heard the original Beat It after hearing all the way through this and I can't explain the sense of relief I just felt." I understand dude. It throws you off your bearings. You'll be okay. 

"As a tone deaf person I cannot notice the difference between this and the original song." If this is a joke it's a good one and if it's serious I feel sorry for them. Either way it's profound.

"This got me rolling on the floor for an hour lmfao." I hear you.

"This makes me nostalgic for how old printers used to sound." Why not.

"Now I gotta go listen to the original to cleanse my brain." Another person who had a bad trip listening to the C-version. You'll be okay too. The effects are only temporary. If not, please seek counselling, and may God bless.

"I think even the ghosts in my house are afraid of this version of Beat It." Probably so. Awesome comment.

"Doesn't sound as bad as I initially thought it would." That's an understatement.

"Even the percussion is in C. Quite impressive dedication." Yep. Good ear.

"It gave me a visceral reaction where I flinched away from my speakers. 10/10, no notes. Thank you." I love this comment and I have a lot of gratitude too. 

"My mind slowly develops a sense of rage as I listen to this. Wonderful." Easy does it, and don't exceed recommended dosage, whatever that is. 

"I am literally crying in the car by myself laughing. The song, the comments. Tonight I lived, and no matter what happens after today I can say I experienced the best entertainment this planet has to offer. 5 stars." This is a kindred spirit, and they mentioned the comments. I agree...this is one of the most profound things I've ever experienced, and I can't believe I'm even saying that. I was taken completely by surprise. I'm so glad this...thing...came into my life. I'll never be the same.

"This is like trying to understand someone talking to you in a dream." Good analogy.

"This actually sounds really cool but in a really weird way. I really like the pitch-shifting artifacting." "Artifacts" was the word I was looking for. Sometimes when Autotune hears harmonics or whatever, it can't decide which note to go to, so it makes new ones in between. I recorded an old Mbira and ran it through Autotune. Some of the keys would go a little sharp or flat as they decayed after being struck, and Autotune bent the notes and slurred them together as if they were played on a guitar, and it was a great effect. In the case of this song, I think the artifact notes make it much better, and by about a minute in, our brains want pretty much any note besides another C, and the artifacts bring relief, sort of like tension-and-release. When the notes go flat it almost makes your head physically sway, and it feels like the tempo slows down but it doesn't. Incredible. Good ear.

"Gradually I began to like this one better." Yep. I've heard the original a million times but I much prefer this version. 

"I think this is the most menacing and terrifying thing I've ever heard in my life." You might be right. God bless. 

"After the 17th attempt to make sense of this lsd trip, I have completely forgotten how the original is supposed to sound like. Excellent work, 10.10." Right on. The original is now just a reference point. 

"This is absolutely terrible in the absolute best way. Thank you." Yep.

"This is genuinely the funniest thing I've ever listened to for some reason." I agree completely. I lost it laughing, and crying too, and I don't understand. It took 66 years to experience something like this. 

 There are plenty more choice comments and I may go over them, but this is enough for now. These are some amazing comments. Almost everyone was well-spoken, and knew how to spell and used punctuation and such, so it's not like the only pome people who had severe reactions to this song are dummies or crackheads or whatever. Yet again, I'm glad to know I wasn't the only one affected by this monstrosity. 

Speaking of monstrosity, I didn't mention the thumbnail image. It's warped in such a heinous way that it seems it would be hard to get even AI to do, and words fail when trying to describe it. It definitely adds to the general unease, if you can stand to look at it. It's brutal.

 I've been bamboozled by the key of C. Already the octave vocals are playing in my head and I love it. This song is really too much. I couldn't have imagined that hearing Beat It in the key of C would be one of the craziest experiences I've ever had, and could alter my brain patterns like some weird-ass drug I should've never thought about taking. I really do wish I could study how this song affects the brain, at least to see what areas light-up with scans, because I just don't get it at all. More research is highly indicated. If you dare, you can listen >HERE. It's only a song. 

ATTENTION: A Free Natural High that Really Works (NOT Substance-Related)

I don't know where to begin, but sometimes I have to thank the YT algo for sending strange and wonderful things into my life. I don't really know if it's necessarily a good or a bad thing but this arrangement of Michael Jackson's Beat It seriously altered my brain's chemistry and electromagnetism and such, hopefully temporarily, and gave me the weirdest and heaviest free buzz I may have ever had in my life, and I'm not kidding. Most of the comments I read seemed to echo my experience, and some of them were incredible. 

 It literally made me laugh and cry at the same time, to the point that if I'd been in public and not wanted to come off like a complete lunatic, it would've taken a lot of self-control to stop. It's about to again as I write, and that's only happened maybe a couple of times in my life. It's giving me butterflies right now just thinking about it, and that's extraordinary. 

 I know what it's like to cry tears of joy, and that's a beautiful thing, but this was different. I was definitely crying tears of joy and exhilaration, but they were also tears of confusion, imbalance, unease, outright horror and probably a few psychoses thrown in for good measure. I'm barely joking. It was a mind-warping experience. Music has always had the power to push my buttons and make me cry without warning, and it can certainly make me laugh, but it's never done both at once.

 It was face-warping too. It's an absolute trip to feel your face wanting to laugh and cry at the same time. I'd start to burst out into laughter but then I could feel the corners of my mouth turn sharply down and I'd be crying. I wish I'd looked in a mirror. My brain was firing every whichaway and releasing chemicals from A to Z. It was truly a buzz, and a bizarre and powerful one. As weird as it was it was also extremely cathartic and fun to experience.

 I could've turned it off because the experience kept getting more intense, but like with a powerful acid trip, you have to have a strong mind to not let it overwhelm you, and it's best not to fight it and just to go with the flow. I can say that a time or two I spent a decent amount of money on some substance that didn't get me nearly as altered as listening to this track did. I was grateful after reading the comments that I wasn't the only one who was altered to such a degree. It was a bit concerning.

 I haven't even mentioned what it was. It was titled "Beat It, but Every Note is C." I almost didn't click but thank the algo gods I did. Like one person commented, I thought I'd check out maybe a minute of it, but I listened to it twice. I don't know how or why but it's one of the trippiest things I've ever heard in my life. 

 The first thing that hit me was that it was probably what it might sound like if you listened to the original version on a bad acid trip, but it was so much more. I couldn't have imagined the mind-melting effect that staying on one note could have. I thought it'd be boring. Wrong. He did cheat a time or two by going flat and getting a different note, but otherwise every vocal and instrumental note was a C. Just doing it is remarkable, but the mind-altering effects are incredible. 

 I've said a million times that if I hadn't gotten into music I'd have been a scientist, and I'd have gotten grants to study things like this. I'd love to know the mechanism of how this sonic Frankenstein or whatever it is can alter the brain in such a way. I'd love to do PET scans and things to see what areas of the brain light up. Maybe it only triggers people who are nuts to begin with, but I hope not. It's truly profound. 

 I'm going to record it from the laptop speakers onto my Zoom recorder, load it and them email it to myself. I'll also have it on the SD card. That's how much I want to make sure I can access it again. I wish I could get a higher resolution version from the guy who did it but he didn't respond to any of the comments, as beautiful as they were.

 Again I have to say that it's so weird that it's almost hard to say if it's good or bad, but I'd think that being able to get your brain to release all those chemicals naturally, and make you feel like you're on a rollercoaster at Six Flags or something, is a good thing. It took me completely by surprise.

 It's times like this that I wish I'd promoted my blog, because a few people might follow the link and experience it for themselves, and I'd love to know their reactions, if they could stick it out. For those who occasionally stumble across this blog, if you dare, the link is >HERE. You've been warned. Enjoy. Holy Moly. 

 
 

The Sweet Sleep of Population Control

Looking at photos and videos of the streets of Kensington is surreal. For blocks it looks like some kind of human zoo that's populated by zombies. They could make another movie in the series called "Streets of the Dead," and they wouldn't have to hire any extras or use any makeup or tell anyone to act like a zombie. If you don't believe me, check out a few vids on YouTube. For those times when you feel like a useless POS, it's excellent therapy. You ain't got nothing on those folks.

 This person seems to be catching a nice little nap, but it looks like those pigeons are waiting for him to croak so they can eat him. It looks like he's already turning blue, but hopefully that's a glove. What sort of life expectancy would someone like this have? Six months to a year at best? The streets of Kensington seem like an experiment in natural selection. It's population control. 

 What blows my mind and makes me feel uncomfortable is seeing people nod-off, lean over and go to sleep standing up. It's like a magic trick or something. They're defying gravity. They can't even properly fall down when they pass out. They should have a free Chiropractic clinic every few blocks. It makes me feel all achy-breaky to see those people sleeping like that. 

 Before Fentanyl came along the thing was heroin of course, but then they began to cut the heroin with cheaper Fent. During the plannedemic, the supply-chain shortages affected even the drug trade, so they pretty much went to straight Fentanyl. 

 The zombies didn't seem to mind, but now they're cutting the damn Fentanyl with something called "tranq," which is a nasty, nasty substance. It's called the "zombie drug," and since these people are already zombies to begin with, they're doubly-fucked. They don't stand a chance, long-term anyway. Zombies will be zombies I guess.

 Years ago I watched a doc, at least as much of it as I could stand. It was about a young couple whose lives basically revolved around getting high. A camera crew followed them around for a day, to show how they survived and got money for dope and whatnot. They ate out of trash cans, did their business and even took "baths" in Portapottys. They panhandled, washed windows and sometimes did other things to get money that they didn't want to mention. I'm pretty sure it was in Portland, but the story is the same everywhere.

 They did their thing, finding some fresh-ish pastries from a bakery dumpster, freshening up in a Portapotty, panhandling and such and by the afternoon they had enough money to score. They visited their dealer and they were happy as clams. They shot-up in another Portapotty, which is all well and good I guess, but they started to nod immediately, and they were out cold within a few minutes and slept for hours.

 When they woke up they'd slept-off their high, and had to go through the process all over again. It'd have been one thing if they'd been able to walk around and check out the city and at least enjoy their buzz for a little while, but they passed out right away. All that trouble just to nod-off...I don't get it. I'm guessing by now they either seriously cleaned up their act, or they've achieved room temperature. Cheers, or adios, as the case may be.

 It may sound like I don't feel for these people but I very much do, and if I could afford it I'd help them out. I'd partner-up with the My Pillow guy and start an organization called "For the Love of God Sleep Horizontally Foundation" or the "Blankey Project" or something like that.

 Once a week or so I'd go up there and hand out pillows and blankets. If I saw people sleeping standing up, I'd gently lower them to the ground, give them a My Pillow and a blanket and tuck a McDonald's voucher into their pockets. I'm not a heartless bastard, and I don't like to see people sleep vertically. I bet they'd trade me some tranq for a good night's sleep. Poor zombies. RIP y'all. 
 

2024

For several years my main info guy has been saying that we were on the verge of seeing crazy things in the sky and here on Earth that will change our entire views and how we think about things. If he's right, they'll come out with the "Official Explanation" as to what's going on, but I'd take it with a grain of salt. They lie to us, and we'd be extremely naive to think otherwise. 

 He thinks that 2024 will probably be the year that we finally start seeing this stuff right in front of our faces and it'll be impossible to deny, although he says it could possibly be 2025. I've been following him for at least seven years. He's a guest on a YT channel once a week, and I've never missed a single show. Information is like food to me. 

 Like the majority of the other "Truthers" I follow, not everything he's said will happen has happened yet, but he hasn't been wrong about anything so far. He's been early or late a few times on something but that's it. 

 When I was three our folks would take my sister and me out onto the lawn to watch meteor showers. That, plus a Bible verse that caught my attention, where it said that one day we'd see "Signs in the Heavens," started me on a lifelong journey of sky-watching that's lasted from age three to about 15 minutes ago when I was looking at the sunset. My guy talks about the sky and the solar system and beyond on every show, which is another reason I love him. The things he "predicts" really do happen. 

 He thinks we'll start seeing new objects in the sky by this year or next. Those of us who watch the sky every day, day and night, are able to see changes in the sky that most people wouldn't notice, and satellite images, radar, photos, charts and such back it up. We've seen, and recorded, things that we haven't seen in our lifetimes. It's getting busy up there. 

 Speaking of busy up there, info guy believes that we'll see intense meteor storms (not showers) beginning this year or early next. I have to mention again the Leonid shower of 1975 that I watched with my girlfriend. I'm guessing we saw at least 1,000 meteors over several hours...everything from pea-sized streaks all the way up to baseball-sized fireballs, in every color of the rainbow, one after another...some chasing each other, coming two and three at once and some exploding with a loud report. It was like something out of Star Wars but more intense because it was real. Info guy says that showers like that will become routine. That'll be some shit if it's true. 

 We haven't seen any actual meteor storms in out lifetimes, but in case you think it's never happened, here's an image from the Leonid shower of 1833. It's my favorite woodcut of all time. Needless to say lots of people freaked out and some thought Chicken Little was right and it was the end of the world. I imagine that such a meteor storm would catch people's attention just the same today.

 Over the last several years they've gradually been putting out articles about various objects being discovered both in and around our solar system. They tell us that most of them are well beyond the orbit of Pluto, but they've also said that objects have been discovered in the Asteroid Belt, the Oort Cloud and yes, the Orion Nebula. We don't know yet whether we'll see strange objects in the sky or not, but when I look skyward on a clear night I look up first to Orion. I love the Orion Constellation anyway. Heads-up. 

 

The Best Substance-Related Comment I Ever Heard

I've told this story before...imagine that...but as always, who cares? It's by far the best comment I ever heard about substances, in this case 'shrooms.

 So one night this huge biker guy showed up at a party. He already had a good liquor buzz and he was ready to partay. Lots of people were taking 'shrooms at the party, and even though he'd never tried them he was ready.

 Someone had a bag of 'shrooms that was maybe twenty grams, which was at least five adult-strength doses. The big dude asked what the usual dose was, and they said around 3.5 grams or whatever it was. Since he was big, and had to drink more and take more drugs to get the same effect as normal-weight people, he figured he'd need way more than that to get off.

 People tried to tell him that it wasn't like that at all and that the regular dose was all he needed and then some, but he wasn't having it. There was a guy there who was like a Sage or something. He was calm and mellow, smart as shit and hilarious to boot. 

 He had a beautiful but simple way of stating things that really got the point across in a way that everyone could understand. He was just the kind of person you'd want to babysit you if you were having a bad trip or whatever, and luckily for the big boy he was there. He said to the big guy, "Dude, it's not a body-weight deal; it's a brain-weight deal." That's brilliant, and so true. It's also hilarious.

 Mondo Expando ignored his amusing but useful advice. He snatched the bag of mushrooms out of the person's hand and downed the whole thing before anyone could stop him. There was a collective "Oh, shit...this is going to be a long night" from everyone in the room. It was. Needless to say he got a little too high.

 For the next six hours or so, the main feature of the party was this gigantic dude, dressed in leather and otherwise would've looked like a badass, curled up on the floor in the fetal position and weeping like a baby.

 There were several Deadhead girls in tie-dyes who were stroking his shoulders and telling him that he was going to be okay. They were a godsend. I bet they looked like glowing angels to him, and for all practical purposes they were, sort of like a living "Get Well Soon" Hallmark card. Ha-ha, that's funny.

 I'm also willing to bet that Biggun never touched 'shrooms again for the rest of his life, however long it may or may not have been. Big ol' biker dudes don't usually end up on the floor in the fetal position at parties. Bless his heart. I wish I'd kept in touch with the mellow dude, but I'll never forget his comment. It's so perfectly true.

 The moral of this story is that if you've never tried a new substance, and you don't want to end up sobbing like a baby in the fetal position, if you're given sage dosing advice, you might want to take it. If that advice also happens to be hilarious, have a good laugh but don't laugh it off. Have a nice day.

The Single-Joint Theory (rewritten)

During the all-too-brief time that George from California lived with me way back in 1976, we were very into boundary-pushing. George had a saying- "Know your limits, and then exceed them." It really resonated with me and it's excellent advice. It says that we should push ourselves, but not recklessly. It's simply and perfectly stated. 

 It's not like I wasn't already a hellion by the time I met George. Just a month or two before he moved here from Chicago, I'd jumped the family Buick over a natural jump at 110mph or so, after not one but two other guys had died trying it. I showed George the jump site, and the skid marks where I landed that were still visible. He was duly impressed.

 Our shared love of hell-raising as we called it was one reason we bonded, and his saying only inspired me further. We weren't into hurting anyone in any way or causing property damage or stealing shit or anything like that...it was a case of seeing what all we could get away with. Turns out we got away with a lot.

 We smoked as much grass as we possibly could, and we reckoned that if we were in a public place and wanted to fire-up, if we only had one joint, plus a water or soda to wash it down with if the cops should ever approach, and no other weed or paraphernalia on us or in the car, we could pretty much smoke anywhere we wanted, and so we did. We called it the "Single Joint Theory."

 I wish I could remember every place we ever smoked because some of the reactions we got were hilarious, but we smoked everywhere we went...supermarkets, shopping malls, libraries, movie theaters...everywhere. A mall called Century Plaza had just opened the year before, and at the time it was a big deal. We'd walk around and mix with the people, all while smoking a joint. 

 Oh, and I should clarify here, because while we did only take a single joint with us, I didn't say it was always a normal one. Back then they made papers called EZ Wider Unrolling Papers. It was a continuous roll of paper, gummed along one edge, and you unrolled it like foil or wax paper to whatever length joint you wanted to roll. 

 We both had excellent manual dexterity, and we were able to tear off a 10" strip of rolling paper, put our hands together and roll a joint that was twice as long as normal, in perfect sync. Sometimes we'd walk around with a 10" joint if it was a busy Friday night at the mall or wherever. They'd burn for half an hour and we'd get stoned as Cooter Brown. We didn't care. It was worth it just to see the looks on people's faces. 

 The thing was that while most people knew what pot smelled like whether they smoked it or not, they weren't expecting to smell it, considering it was a crowded public place with kids and grandparents, plus security guards and the occasional cop. It didn't compute, even though they were pretty sure they were smelling weed. They'd stop, make a funny face, turn their nose up and start sniffing in all directions. I can still see it...they looked like the groundhog who came out of his house to see if he saw his shadow. 

 I need to mention that back then you could smoke in public, although it didn't extend to marijuana. Back then they didn't have cameras every 15' either. We'd usually light a cigarette too when we'd fire-up a joint to make it a little less obvious, but some people figured it out and saw what we were doing. Sometimes they'd walk away in disgust and sometimes they'd ask for a hit. We'd always oblige, and sometimes we'd have a strolling pot party in public. Good times. 

 The idea that the SJT was valid and probably very safe turned out to be true. We each had a drink in hand, usually a Mountain Dew, in case we needed to swallow the joint, but we never once got into any trouble, and we smoked in some places where it definitely wasn't a good thing to do. We didn't flaunt it but we didn't try to hide it either. It was really fun to see people stop and sniff the air like groundhogs, and shake their head, like, "I could swear I smell reefer...but it couldn't be." That's funny. The Single Joint Theory was legit.

 

Quote/Description of the Day

"You can't miss her big ass." - a bar patron giving a description of a healthy woman who was threatening people with a knife
 

Quote of the Day

 

"We can call it 'science,' 'religion' or 'philosophy,' but in the end it's all subject to truth." - coach Dave Daubenmire

Me and Lisa in Hearts: Valentine's Day

I decided to hop on and play a few hands of Hearts while I listened to a podcast, and saw some hearts, the Valentine kind, pop up on the screen. I'd forgotten what day it was. 

 So Bill there wished Lisa a Happy Valentine's Day. Bill's married, so I'm sure it was just friendly, although my knee-jerk reaction was to tell him to back off. "She's MY 8-bit Valentine, Bill man! Take a hike."

 Bill's cool. The problem is that Lisa got all hearty-eyed, and I don't know what to make of that. I've never known her to take any special interest in Bill, and I wouldn't think she'd mess around with a married man to begin with, but I guess you never know. It's all good.

 Grouchy-ass Mike wasn't in a very festive mood. Dude, you got nothing better to do than play cards? It's Valentine's Day bro. I've never figured out Mike's nationality. He's pretty dark-skinned, but with Caucasian-ish features. Maybe they don't celebrate Valentine's Day in his homeland, or maybe he forgot to get his wife a card, but he's a buzzkill today. Go play Solitaire. 

 I kept waiting for my character to say something, but he never did. Say what? I didn't even open my dumbass mouth? How could I possibly be that shy? I talk to real women okay. Lisa is just a cartoon. Oh, well. Happy Valentine's Day!

Maybe Reincarnation is Real

Although I can't say with 100% certainty that anything is or isn't real, and I give both sides their say on things, I've never believed that reincarnation is real, up until now. Part of it is because a book I've read says that it is appointed for us to "unalive" but once, and beyond that, what's the point? Nirvana? Pfffft.

 There are fascinating stories of "past-life regression" and kids having "memories," if that's what they are, of past incidents that there's no way they could have prior knowledge of, but they're pretty rare, and probably 99.99999999999% of all people on Earth, if reincarnation is real, have no knowledge or memories of past lives. 

 If it were real, it'd be really cool if we could remember past lives. The goal of reincarnation is to become a better creature, whatever that may be, each time we go around. It'd give us something to shoot for, but since that doesn't happen to most people, I don't get why it'd exist. Then again there's a lot I don't get, but what's the point of recycling souls if we don't learn anything? I'm sure there's some philosophy that explains it, but I don't know.

 The past-life memories and such happen too often to dismiss as chance, so you have to consider it. It makes for a pretty good case for reincarnation being real, but then again it could also be something different, like tapping into the "Collective Consciousness" or whatever it is, where time isn't linear, and everything exists at once. 

 When it comes to Karma, I've said before that while I believe the basic idea, and that we reap what we sow and what comes around goes around, I don't necessarily think that it always works out evenly, like there's some karmic scorekeeper. Maybe it's part of reincarnation, and if bad things happen to someone, either they're paying the penalty for their last life, or going through it so they'll have a better next life...who knows? 

 To have to pay for what you did in another life, which you have no memory of and has no bearing on your current life, seems pretty bogus to me. It's not fair, but who said life, or reincarnation, was fair? One thing I can say for it is that it assumes we have souls.

 Maybe Karma isn't affected by time either. Maybe it's retroactive, and people get their good Karma in advance, but for whatever reason the bad Karma comes later. For me, when you consider what I've been through and given up for the sake of others over the last 16 years, and I'm well aware that we ALL have our problems and mine aren't special, you'd think that Karma might throw me a bone, but that hasn't happened.

 Maybe I got all my good Karma in years past and now I'm paying for it, but I can say that no matter what happens, for what it's worth I'll always have some love left in my old heart to the bitter end, and love is the most powerful force in the Universe, no matter how many times we do or don't go 'round.

 I'm starting to believe that reincarnation is real after all, and if that's so, one thing's for sure, going by the last 16 years anyway...I was an absolute POS in my last life. As I have no memories though, I don't know whom I might have been an asshole to, but if so I apologize. Maybe I'll come back next time as a cow, and live in India. I certainly hope so. Have a nice life, or next one as the case may be.
 

The Tiny Fires Revisited

This photo popped up in my Facebook memories from six years ago. I talked about it back then, and it still flips me out. Back when I lived on the Cahaba River I'd walk through the woods to get to it almost every day. Every now and then I'd notice these curious burned spots on the ground. I saw at least a dozen of them and took photos of several different ones. 

 It hit me right away that there was something really strange about them. Some days I'd see two or three of them that hadn't been there the day before, and the fact that there were more than one made it even stranger.  

 The most noticeable thing was how small they were. None were over about a foot across, and most were less. The second thing was that none of the surrounding leaves or grass was singed. The fires burned long enough and/or hot enough to turn punky wood into charcoal, yet nothing around them even seemed to get warm.

 Granted the wind could've blown leaves and twigs onto the burned spot after the fire had gone out, but I'd see sprigs of plants right next to the burned area and there was absolutely no damage. It's almost like some sort of energy, like a mini lightning bolt or a laser or whatever struck the ground and instantly charred the wood, but it was too brief to burn anything around it. Even that makes no sense, as unlikely as it is to begin with...heat is heat.

 Part of me wants to believe that it's elves or little people or fairies or something, and they're building tiny fires and roasting mini-marshmallows on twigs. How cool would that be? I sorta doubt it's that, but we can't completely rule it out. It still wouldn't explain how none of the surrounding leaves and grass were burned at all. The notion that it could be elves almost makes more sense than the fact that nothing around it was singed. 

 I've spent lots of time in the woods and I've run across dozens of old fires, but never any that looked like this. Most of course are much bigger around, and the area around the fire is burnt. Fires tend to want to spread. It makes no sense, unless I'm missing something, and if so I'd love to know what it is. These tiny fires seem to fuck with the laws of thermodynamics and such, at least to my simple brain. 

 It's perfectly okay to come up with outlandish and unlikely explanations, if for no other reason than to entertain yourself and let your brain form new synapses, which it will definitely do if you let it think about elves roasting mini-marshmallows and things like that. I've said before that you can think about crazy stuff all day long, but it doesn't mean you're crazy, as long as you don't believe everything you think. And as we know, sometimes the craziest explanation is actually the correct one. That's so cool.

 Above all though, you must try to debunk it. After years of pondering, all I can come up with as to how someone could duplicate these fires would be to take a blowtorch and burn a small area, and then throw leaves and stuff on the area after the fire is out. The concentrated flame wouldn't heat up the surrounding area like a normal fire would. Or someone could start a small fire with lighter fluid or something, and keep spraying the surrounding area with water to keep it from burning.

 Those two options would probably work, but they hardly make any more sense than elves roasting mini-marshmallows or energy beams. Who would go to so much trouble to fake something like that, in the middle of the night, just to possibly fool someone? It's almost stupid to think about those options but you have to consider all possibilities. Not a single thing I've speculated on makes any sense, but something happened. 

 A few years back I put up pics of different tiny fires on Facebook, but hardly anybody thought anything of it. I was surprised because to me it's a genuine mystery, and I love a mystery. Tiny fires just aren't a thing...if they were we'd see them all the time. After all this time I can't come up with an explanation to save my life, and I'd love to know what the story is. For now I'm going with elves. 

Not Meant to Be but Still Sweet: The Story of Little Anne

This is Anne, aka "Little Anne." She was kinda my girlfriend during our senior year in high school. She wrote something in my annual about how Emerson, Lake & Palmer's music sounded like a beached whale, and it still cracks me up. I was going to tell a fellow ELP fan about it because I know he'll get a kick out of it, so I got out my annual to see what she wrote. 

 Anne lived on the same street where my friends Champ, Ashby and George lived. As one might guess she was a little short in stature, standing maybe 5-4 in heels. Little Anne was a trip. She was bubbly and fun to be around. She was smart as a whip, and like most intelligent women she had a wicked sense of humor. Much to my delight it was a tiny bit twisted, which is probably what attracted me most. It didn't hurt that she was cute as a Junebug.

 She was one of the popular girls, although she was nothing like so many of them who were shallow, concerned with unimportant bullshit and what I called "plastic." She had soul, and she was an angel.

 I managed to sort of split the difference in school, and had friends in all the major kid groups- the straights, the jocks and certainly the freaks. I was friends with a few of the popular kids, but I'd have almost certainly never gotten to know Anne, much less date her, if she hadn't lived in the party 'hood.

 Speaking of party, she rarely if ever did. She may have had a glass of wine here or there but I never saw her drunk, and she never touched drugs. She was one of those people who truly was "high on life," and her attitude was contagious. People loved her. 

 She wasn't a prude, and even though she didn't partake, she got a kick out of seeing us get stoned. I was surprised she'd want to go out with me, but after we hung out for a few months we got to like each other. It was never anything really serious...seeing as how she was as straight as she was, I didn't want to overly corrupt her, but seeing as how she was very open-minded and non-judgmental, which someone would have to be to want to go out with me, I did take an interest in broadening her horizons. 

 I think I succeeded in other areas, but the ELP thing was a total failure. It just wasn't her cup of Progressive tea. Maybe I didn't play "Lucky Man" enough, but the new and strange sounds of the synthesizer, a recent addition to popular music, were just too much for her. I probably had to calm her back down by playing some Bread or Dan Fogelberg or something, but I don't remember.

 I can't blame her...the first time I heard the synth on the Trilogy LP it freaked me out, and frankly spooked me a bit. Luckily I prevailed, because it also changed my view of music, and my life in general to some degree. I didn't try to push ELP on her, but if I'd played more of the pretty stuff, she may have ended up liking them. Brain Salad Surgery definitely isn't for everyone.

 I grabbed my annual and read what she wrote again after many years, and I was pleasantly surprised. I'd forgotten about the other stuff she wrote, and it gave me a warm fuzzy. It shows her eloquence and wit. That Anne. I reckon she wasn't serious about being madly in love with me, but I still got a kick out of it. 

 I remembered that she'd said that ELP's music was the reason our relationship would never work, but I'd forgotten the rest of what she wrote. I know I was pleased to read it back then, as I am now. While she was kidding about having a life together, she was serious about the rest of what she said. Decades later, I'm humbled.

 I'm glad she appreciated my expanding her awareness. She mentioned that I went out of my way to care for her, but I was just doing my thing. Maybe her being small brought out a natural instinct to protect her, but I don't remember doing anything special to care for her. I certainly cared about her.

 What she said about my potential is beautiful. Such nice words...what a piece of work she was, and I'm guessing still is. She ended with "Always in Him." I'm glad we're on the same page there anyway. I'm glad to know I had a positive effect on her life...she certainly did on mine. Too bad her expanded awareness didn't include ELP, but her comment still gives me a big chuckle to this day, and at least she was honest.

 I should try to look her up. I'm guessing she'd be okay with hearing from me, and I bet she'd enjoy seeing what she wrote in my annual. Maybe she still has what I wrote in hers. In any case it's great to read her words again after half a century or so. It's nice to know that you've affected someone in a positive way, if not a musical one. Maybe we could get together for a cup of coffee one day. Maybe I could play Lucky Man for her again. Never say never. Cheers, Anne! Thanks for the kind words.

Sorry about the beached-whale thing.

 

Crazy Tour Stories?

This is Luana Dametto. She plays in a Metal band called Crypta. I discovered her a couple years ago, when I became fascinated with Metal drummers and the superhuman shit they can play. Although I'd have no interest in learning that style except just to be able to do it, I really like her playing. 

 She's not quite as busy as many other Metal drummers and she doesn't play as fast, but she's super-tight, and she has a bit more of a "groove" than so many of them, even though there's not much groove in Metal to begin with.

 She also plays the same brand of cymbals I play, and she loves them like I do. She seems like a decent person and she's certainly easy on the eyes. I don't care for the inverted pentagrams and all that Satanic shit she wears, but they all do.

 One of her vids was titled "A crazy Tour Story," and of course I had to click. I have one or two crazy road stories myself, and like I've said, I've read a million stories about Rock craziness. Some of them are pretty good, but for the most part the difference between their stories and mine is that they had more money, drugs, booze and women. Aside from that I'd stack my adventures up against anyone's. 

 When I heard she had a "crazy tour story" I figured it'd be a good one. She's in a popular Metal band so she's bound to have seen some crazy things, plus I thought it might be good to hear a story from a woman's perspective. I clicked on the video, thinking "What you got, sister?" Turns out it was a total waste of a click. 

 Her "crazy tour story" was that when her band was playing in the Czech Republic, she woke up one morning thinking that they were in Mexico. She noted that the people seemed to be way too light-skinned to be Mexican and that they didn't speak Spanish, but otherwise she couldn't figure it out. Wow, that's just cra-cra. "I thought I was in Mexico but I'm really in the Czech Republic. Oops."

 Sorry hun, but that's lame, and I'm not sure I'd even tell that story. If I heard it I'd probably think she'd gotten into a little too much Mezcal the night before. I might even think she was a little bit dingy, but I sure wouldn't be blown away by her story. She needs to get a few more gigs under her belt, and have some decent stuff to write about. I'll take my stories over hers any day, even if she's a better drummer. In any case, rock on. There are more stories to tell.
 

I Walk the Line

Maybe it means I'm an asshole, but I like to watch drunk people having to do field sobriety teats. You have the refusals and the runners and the weepers and the dickheads, but sometimes there's true comedy. Seeing people doing the walk-and-turn sometimes is like this warped ballet or something. It's fucked-up but beautiful. 

 Everybody has their own style, and it really comes out when they're wasted. I wish I had some editing software...I'd string a bunch of them together, add some Calliope, post the video on my YT channel and really be an asshole.  

 What's even funnier than the dance of insobriety is when the cop will ask them if the have any medical conditions that would prevent them from doing the tests, and all of the sudden they have a medical history as long as your arm. 

 It's beautiful because they either have to make up utter bullshit on the spot, and some of them are good enough to do improv comedy, or they take a minor complaint they do have and try to make it into some crippling condition, so if they flub the tests, it couldn't possibly be due to alcohol. It's poetry.

 I might have to go back and look over these vids and note some of their medical excuses because I can't remember too many at the moment but they're hilarious. It might be a concussion they had six months ago or a broken ankle from 2018 or some other ancient injury, but whatever it is it's somehow still in play. One older lady who was plowed claimed she had an "Astigmatism of the shoulder." I'm not sure how it would affect balance even if it existed, but you gotta give her props for creativity.

 The woman doing the walk in the above image had one I'd never heard. She claimed that one of her legs was shorter than the other one and they "didn't line up," so there's no way she could walk a straight line under any conditions. The cop chuckled and asked her just to do her best.

 Not surprisingly a lot of bartenders and servers get pulled over after work, and they come up with all these crazy excuses why they supposedly can't walk, yet they've just been running around for four hours straight during a busy shift. Alcohol and critical thinking don't usually go together. 

 It's also funny when people try to deny they've had any alcohol when the cops can smell it, and they're glassy-eyed and slurring. "I spilled a drink on myself" is often used. Any open containers belong to someone they just gave a ride home to, and certainly aren't theirs. People forget how much they reek of alcohol when they drink, and how far the scent travels. Some people think that vodka doesn't leave alcohol on their breath but I'm not sure where that came from. If you drink you stink. 

 One of these episodes reminded me of something I hadn't thought of in forever. Back during the partying years, we were well aware that the cops around here usually didn't have anything better to do past 10pm than look for drunk drivers, so when we'd get loaded at parties, we'd practice walking a straight line. I started that thing, and it turned into a pretty fun party game. Some of us got pretty good at it but some of us would've been locked up immediately. Good times. 

 Those who share my sick sense of humor might enjoy a video with a bunch of people who can barely walk, much less in a straight line. Maybe one day I can afford to get some screen-capture and editing software and make it happen, but meantime, if you want to see people who do even stupider shit that you and me, go to YouTube and search "DUI traffic stop." You'll find endless entertainment, and it just may make you think twice before getting behind the wheel when you're too "toddified."

 Albert Collins wrote a song about the denial of alcohol's effects. The hook was "I ain't drunk...I'm just drinkin'." It's brilliant. I'm surprised those people don't learn it. It'd probably work about as well as any of the other bullshit they try. Astigmatism of the shoulder...that's a good one. Don't drink and drive. 

 

Quote of the Day

"They were the worst musicians in the world. They were no-playing motherfuckers. Paul was the worst bass player I ever heard. And Ringo? Don't even talk about it." - Quincy Jones, assessing the Beatles' skills