tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4630458706078660242024-03-13T10:23:57.382-07:00SsolRealityThoughts on whatever as time goes by. Tech stuff, Political Satire, DIY Philosophy, Garage Quantum Mechanics, Music, Whatever. Just a place for friends to stretch out their minds together.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16788631500737709152noreply@blogger.comBlogger310125truetag:blogger.com,1999:blog-463045870607866024.post-83921742735111193602014-05-21T10:35:00.000-07:002014-05-21T10:49:11.839-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b>Dear Friends,</b><br />
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<b>A Requiem for Mubu…</b><br />
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Mubu was a man easy to underestimate. He was the drunk guy, that black cat with an odd accent to his English. He was clever, drinking cheap vodka from a water bottle at dawn on a bench on Main Street. He was fooling the cops.<br />
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Right.<br />
<a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=463045870607866024" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=463045870607866024" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><br />
He had a volume of “Plato’s Republic” tucked in his left jacket pocket. A heap of Tolstoy was under his skittering knee and dancing thigh. He read from a selection in his open book of great philosophers. Spinoza was that morning’s topic of Socratic to-and-fro. At some moments he took a long pull on that bottle of grain alcohol sweetened with antifreeze and bilge water. Altogether, it went down sweet and too well to be a simple recipe.<br />
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He has taken his knowledge to the Edge of the Universe, alas. At his end, he likely stared into the void behind his shuttered eyelids. He saw Everything and Nothing as the lights went out, I’m pretty well sure. He may have seen a bright light at that moment. I hope so, but that, we still bound to our flesh, cannot know with any assurance whatsoever.<br />
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Okay, Mubu. Many underestimated you. I did. You managed to bring yourself to the Edge and thence Beyond. Quite an achievement, even for The Cool Black Prince of the Streets. Very daring. You won the game in losing, perhaps. Were you playing “catch me if you can”.<br />
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I’ve quit that game, yet I marvel at the star shine that you’ve left with your dust. I value the friendship you forged with me and the space that you will always occupy in my heart, so long as it beats and I still breathe.<br />
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Yeah. One last thing. Stumbling home from the news of my friend’s demise, I bumbled upon a big rusty washer in the mud. It looked like a sort of coin. It was left to emerge from the sodden soil to come up under my modern boot heels from the derelict telegraph lines of well more than a century ago. The rust and white moss on it fashioned it into something like a token from the I’Ching; a transport from the past and future. Allow me to toss that coin this morning and say thank you, Mubu. Praise be.<br />
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Oh, the fortune is favorable. Mubu now lies forever long as this Earth lasts in a grave, at peace, next to his father. Finally, our traveler has made it back to the soil of Africa. He got out of school early and is at rest from his diligent studies.<br />
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Qui Fuerunt, Sed Nunc Ad Astra, Mubu.<br />
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Hic Finis Est.<br />
<br />
S<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16788631500737709152noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-463045870607866024.post-16666498373529056932014-04-23T09:40:00.000-07:002014-04-23T10:22:10.117-07:00Genius Conquers Chaos…Dear Friends,<br />
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A recent little ditty.<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yXW3P1TzBCI/U1fsTQt5fVI/AAAAAAAABz4/lv50JuoMm8g/s1600/KeatonDiver.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yXW3P1TzBCI/U1fsTQt5fVI/AAAAAAAABz4/lv50JuoMm8g/s1600/KeatonDiver.jpg" height="319" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><b>Genius Conquers Chaos</b></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">© Solomon 2014</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Genius conquers chaos</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">in a soul so near its horizon</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">in the mirror dark</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">a soul so simple</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">simple and eager to love</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Chain sawed and/or whip sawed</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">ragged and ready at the edge</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">at the edge of time</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">show me what you know</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">or show me nothing at all</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Genius conquers chaos,</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">reckons trouble as a gift</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I’ve now seen a shadow</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">looking toward any decision</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Palatino; font-size: 12px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">in the mirror dark</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Palatino; font-size: 12px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">a face so telling</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">simply willing to love, love </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Palatino; font-size: 12px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Genius conquers chaos,</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Palatino; font-size: 12px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">reckons trouble as a gift</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">This game of life or death</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Palatino; font-size: 12px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">our hands a ‘twined in mumbly-peg</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Palatino; font-size: 12px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">got me on the line</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">our inspirations</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">well, now, ours and mine do tell</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Palatino; font-size: 12px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Genius conquers chaos,</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Palatino; font-size: 12px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">reckons trouble as a gift</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Let us go into our Silver Mine</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Palatino; font-size: 12px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">let us dance to The Bride of Dawn</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Palatino; font-size: 12px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">she dripping dew perfumed with laughter</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">down and gone and forever</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Palatino; font-size: 12px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">forever the shadow that beckons light</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Palatino; font-size: 12px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">all the troubles that bring delight</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Palatino; font-size: 12px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">all the notions that surprise</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">let’s go down to our Silver Mine.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Palatino; font-size: 12px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Genius conquers chaos</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Palatino; font-size: 12px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">reckons trouble as a gift</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Palatino; font-size: 12px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Genius conquers chaos</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Palatino; font-size: 12px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">reckons trouble as a gift</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Palatino; font-size: 12px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-family: Palatino; font-size: 12px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Genius conquers chaos</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Palatino; font-size: 12px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Genius conquers chaos</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Genius conquers chaos…</span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16788631500737709152noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-463045870607866024.post-87899280049556941392014-02-16T12:35:00.000-08:002014-02-17T04:25:27.952-08:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Dear Friends,</span></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bD030-QG96Q/UwEQ7tiM-3I/AAAAAAAABx0/ey02-d3A6uA/s1600/science.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bD030-QG96Q/UwEQ7tiM-3I/AAAAAAAABx0/ey02-d3A6uA/s1600/science.jpg" height="200" width="200" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">I’ve been pondering a couple of perhaps related notions, poking round in their crooks and crannies, for the past few days. One is the seemingly farfetched idea proposed by a contemporary cosmologist and mathematician, Max Tegmark, that <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2014/01/31/universe-math-cosmologist-max-tegmark_n_4701754.html"><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">our Universe is made of numbers</span></a>.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Now, nobody ever bumps into the numeral One or π when walking through the park, of course. But we do know that everything in nature, everything from the smallest scale to the greatest, everything from very basic physics to the most complex chemistry, even the the paths of individual fish in a school or children meandering in a gaggle across the schoolhouse playground can be described in algorithms composed of chains of numbers and mathematical notations. Four digits describe all of the genetic code in every life form we know of. Might the reason for these obvious and real facts be that the Universe is actually made of nothing but numbers?</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Maybe.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">So, where do numbers come from? It’s not like Pythagoras invented the numbers in his theorem. If he hadn’t come along, somebody else would have soon discovered the same mathematical expression for the theorem that became synonymous with his ancient moniker. Triangles would exist without he, Plato and Euclid ever pondering their perfect forms.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">What else do we know in our Universe that is composed out of ethereal digits? Computer code, more or less rigorous math and logic, is one answer. Might all that we know be merely an elaborate string of code written by some extra-universal teenager frittering away a the billion-year nighttime while shrugging off his homework assignment for the next morning’s class in Cosmic Engineering and Applied Creation?</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-size: 12px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Maybe.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Like all computer code, of course, the one that might lie at the foundation of our perceived Universe, has bugs. Take Infinity, as an example. Math hates infinities. There are an infinite number of them, for one thing. Yes, that was a pun.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"></span><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-size: 12px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">There is also the problem that physics has with infinities. Everything we might understand about what happens at the birth of our Universe is blown to smithereens by our best equations arriving at the numbers of Infinity. Likewise, we cannot use our mathematical tools to peer into the heart of a black hole, for therein lie infinities. Oh, and we get back to π! What is the deal with such a sublime number that perfectly describes what we observe but has no end? Sounds like a bug in the code to me.</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">What do you think?</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Looking Forward and Beyond,</span></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">S</span></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16788631500737709152noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-463045870607866024.post-81049763665810884382013-12-25T17:59:00.002-08:002013-12-25T19:18:30.618-08:00Dear Friends,<br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Tonight's little visual ditty from a public domain image: "Metropolis", 1927.</span></span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xwWOL1MUarU/UruNY4VTUII/AAAAAAAABvA/sM-rOnh42W8/s1600/MetropolisCreatorWorking.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="292" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xwWOL1MUarU/UruNY4VTUII/AAAAAAAABvA/sM-rOnh42W8/s400/MetropolisCreatorWorking.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Res Ipsa Loquitor,</div>
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S</div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; line-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16788631500737709152noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-463045870607866024.post-64190926440648505862013-12-15T11:06:00.000-08:002013-12-15T11:06:30.566-08:00My Electric Lady…<span style="font-family: inherit;">Dear Friends,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="photoUnit clearfix" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: #37404e; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 14px; margin: 0px -12px; orphans: auto; position: relative; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px; zoom: 1;">
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><a ajaxify="https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=10152054217418050&set=a.415660203049.191830.523648049&type=1&relevant_count=1&src=https%3A%2F%2Fscontent-a-lga.xx.fbcdn.net%2Fhphotos-prn1%2F551421_10152054217418050_389559101_n.jpg&size=384%2C480&theater&source=9" class="_6i9" href="https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=10152054217418050&set=a.415660203049.191830.523648049&type=1&relevant_count=1" rel="theater" style="color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;"></a></span></div>
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<span class="userContent"><span style="font-family: inherit;">This evening's little doodle from some public domain art of unknown origin. It's pretty raggedy, as am I as I prepare to careen into slumber and dreams.</span></span></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-k467zf9enxY/Uq39DKs0QnI/AAAAAAAABt0/jyq4YT3M15M/s1600/Electric+Lady.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-k467zf9enxY/Uq39DKs0QnI/AAAAAAAABt0/jyq4YT3M15M/s320/Electric+Lady.jpg" width="256" /></a></div>
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<span class="userContent"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Res Ipsa Loquitor,</span></span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16788631500737709152noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-463045870607866024.post-46179396056876166082013-11-27T17:29:00.001-08:002013-12-02T18:04:41.283-08:00Dear Friends,<br />
<br />
My assistant, that rancid and untrustworthy bastard snuck into my lab after hours. He mixed up my chemicals. Come swiftly, now, with the antidote, Nurse Ratchid!<br />
<br />
Res Ipsa Loquitor,<br />
<br />
S<br />
<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yrDyoDlll5k/UpacYzKcaNI/AAAAAAAABsA/r-sZRDDDk0E/s1600/Karloff%E2%80%93Lab2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="245" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yrDyoDlll5k/UpacYzKcaNI/AAAAAAAABsA/r-sZRDDDk0E/s320/Karloff%E2%80%93Lab2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16788631500737709152noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-463045870607866024.post-17949585215456501422013-11-27T13:36:00.004-08:002013-11-27T13:39:42.144-08:00And yet again…Dear Friends,<br />
<br />
They came again to my fevered dreams. Strange but familiar.<br />
<br />
Hic Finis Est<br />
<br />
S<br />
<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FDAwnEgR5Nw/UpZl5Dw7oBI/AAAAAAAABrE/PG7BFZt_kYQ/s1600/Marionettes4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-FDAwnEgR5Nw/UpZl5Dw7oBI/AAAAAAAABrE/PG7BFZt_kYQ/s320/Marionettes4.jpg" width="156" /></a></div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16788631500737709152noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-463045870607866024.post-83675201823564291022013-11-26T09:46:00.003-08:002013-11-27T13:37:24.394-08:00They came again…Dear Friends,<br />
<br />
They came again in dreams, dancing on unseen strings gyred to an invisible Puppet Master's dexterous digits. The music resolved this time from a noise akin to the crinkling of waxed paper sheathing shards of glass and sand.<br />
<br />
Hic Finis Est,<br />
<br />
S<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VbTm3LiZj9E/UpTebOXeBhI/AAAAAAAABqI/23Oii65TMwM/s1600/Marionettes3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="205" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VbTm3LiZj9E/UpTebOXeBhI/AAAAAAAABqI/23Oii65TMwM/s320/Marionettes3.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16788631500737709152noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-463045870607866024.post-34188559172624906952013-11-25T08:15:00.000-08:002013-11-25T08:17:18.219-08:00A Visitor in Dreams…<span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Dear Friends,</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">A visitor arrived in dreams last night. It did not speak, but behind my eyelids, between my ears, somewhere in the vicinity of my brain's Hippocampus, there was a buzzing. It slowly resolved into music and emotions unspoken. I cannot recall what it all meant.</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-EtQ8l7MVvCI/UpN3bNbXBTI/AAAAAAAABow/WRe9FEx2qSk/s1600/Marionettes2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-EtQ8l7MVvCI/UpN3bNbXBTI/AAAAAAAABow/WRe9FEx2qSk/s1600/Marionettes2.jpg" /></a></div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Hic Finis Est,</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #404040; font-family: Roboto, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">S</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16788631500737709152noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-463045870607866024.post-69712258761970975252013-10-02T12:22:00.001-07:002013-11-14T03:32:28.141-08:00Strange David<h2 style="text-align: center;">
<span class="s1"><b><i>Strange David</i></b></span></h2>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-size: x-small;">S. Solomon</span> <span style="font-size: xx-small;">©2013</span></span></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SLc96KSsWIU/UkxvJH7AZvI/AAAAAAAABgQ/eq2iRbWfIhw/s1600/Keaton-Diver.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="274" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SLc96KSsWIU/UkxvJH7AZvI/AAAAAAAABgQ/eq2iRbWfIhw/s320/Keaton-Diver.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span class="s1">I got mugged a few weeks ago. A shadow in the alley put out my lights. I came to just before dawn. My head hurt. My shirt, wallet and right shoe were missing. When I tried to stand up I promptly keeled over. My left lower leg and my entire foot did not seem to belong to me. Trying to stand again produced the same result as before. Then two cops come strolling along.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">They asked me my name and what had happened to leave me sans shirt and one shoe as I sat in the dirt by the shrubs. I related my best recollection of the mugging. I told the cops that my leg and balance were out of order and asked for an ambulance. First, they needed to write a report. Five minutes or so later, they did summon an ambulance and I was soon lifted onto a gurney, wheeled over to the vehicle and thence transported to the nearest hospital.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">Two weeks later I was moved to a facility for physical therapy; the goal was to restore the nerve that travels from the side of my left calf to my ankle. The exercises and electrical stimulation sort of worked,; just a little. Nonetheless, my balance restored with the help of a leg brace, the insurance company determined that I was too ambulatory to require the medical ministrations, bed and meals provided by the good folks of <i>Meager Estates; Your Interest Is Our Top Priority. </i>Thus, I am now convalescing in an assisted care place, a log cabin in the woods of western New England where people who are mainly very old go to smoke cigarettes on the porch and eat a lot of red meat and potatoes before the hearse comes to carry away their mortal shroud once finally, indisputably shorn of all vitality. </span></div>
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<span class="s1">Not all the folks here at <i>Terminal Meadows; Nestled in a Tranquil Setting</i>, are elderly. I’m not. The Other Steve, the World’s Greatest Authority, is not. He just yammers on about any topic that floats through his cratered consciousness to grab his focus for a few seconds before he fritters into a confusion of random words on subjects ranging from the sex lives of mollusks to The Truth About the Kennedy Assassinations. But, everybody else is old is except one other guy. He is the real and most intriguing subject of this little literary explateration. He is Strange David.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">Strange David is deaf, mute and schizophrenic. So, of course, he is unable to really participate in conversation nor relate to others the messages spoken by the silent voices beamed into his skull by unnamable phantoms hiding in moonbeams and cracks in the pavement. His continence is typically stone like. Even in repose, his brow remains unflinchingly furrowed and the corners of his crusty lips static, as though they were carved into a grimace. He is trapped behind a visage that only expresses bewildered horror.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">Strange David sleeps fully clothed and in a fetal position on the floor by his bedroom door. He keeps the light on and his eyes open through the dark hours. He rises at dawn for the first of his dozen cups of coffee. His primary mode of communication is nodding his head. One can, however, reliably get a reaction from him by coming around a corner or walking up from behind into range of his innate proximity sensor. That range is about two feet and his response to the sudden alert is to leap from his toes as though they were spring loaded. Strange David can reach a height of about twelve inches straight up when he’s good and startled.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">Yet, he never blinks. He never smiles. Well, he almost never smiles. Over the course of my first two weeks in his company, I only once saw him look me in the eye and then flash a wisp of a smile as transient as a single beat in a racing heart. We were eating breakfast across from each other at the common table. As usual each morning at 8:10AM, Strange David stared into his big bowl of Cheerios</span><span class="s2">® </span><span class="s1">as he swiftly slurped overburdened spoonfuls of milk, plenty of sugar, and bleached and artificially colored, pre-masticated, compressed gruel into his resolutely frowning maw.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">Then, for no obvious reason, he looked up at me, milk dripping over his chin. He flashed that brief, thin smile before it disappeared. It was like watching a glistening, soft seeming pebble stolen from sight by a black wave’s exhausted crest. Strange David instantly bowed his head again to gaze unblinking into, perhaps through, the white puddle and bobbing bits of kid’s cereal beneath the soggy, grizzled vanishing point of his jaw. He held his big spoon clenched still and upright in his fist as though a weapon or a torch light.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">Thus, normal programming on the Strange David channel resumed and remains uninterrupted. The smile proved to be a one-off, like a never repeated deep space message from a sentient race living in the empty, cold gloom around the dying ember of a very distant star. The meaning of the message can never be decoded nor even inferred. Some things must remain mysteries. Some things may only happen once.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">Hic Finis Est,</span></div>
<br />
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<span class="s1">S</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16788631500737709152noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-463045870607866024.post-40028228950642022092013-09-15T11:36:00.002-07:002013-09-15T11:39:46.310-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AVzmw7VnPYI/UjX8Bym9VrI/AAAAAAAABe8/wTIiRafHiPo/s1600/eleusis.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AVzmw7VnPYI/UjX8Bym9VrI/AAAAAAAABe8/wTIiRafHiPo/s1600/eleusis.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>The following is a brief bit of typically thoughtful prose composed in the aftermath of accidental comedy that was my nation's most recent Presidential election. Ah, the Mystery that is Democracy! As giggles subsided into gasps echoing down the bleak halls of recent history, I turned my literary attention to a true crisis in our time.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Yours in Confabulation, S. 2012</i></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><b>Cannabis Deprivation</b></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><b></b></span><br /></div>
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<span class="s1">Today, we have a President who has boldly sort'a proclaimed that he sort'a, kind'a smoked, uh, well, er, pot, actually choom or boo, in a time when our children need to hear this message. The ravages of Cannabis Depravation among our youth, particularly young, white males, is leading to a scourge of bad music and even physical deformities. The Lawrence Stanley Denton Foundation has well documented the instances of shrinking Hilarity Glands and overactive production of Seriousity neurotransmitters in the brains of weed starved kids. Another effect of the syndrome is formerly luxurious blond locks of hair turning white and falling out in clumps from the pates of previously handsome fellows in their late teens to early twenties.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">In the most severe cases the Mary Jane malnourished are known to spontaneously grow wingtip shoes that cover their webbed feet, sprout uncomfortable worsted wool from their bodies in the form of poorly fitting and itchy suits and their faces blossom with horn-rimmed glasses that encrust their dilated eyes. They can eventually can be found prowling the streets of suburbia for days at a time accosting strangers with pleas that innocent, horrified citizens buy insurance from them. No. No. This is no joking matter. Yes. Yes. As the Revered St. Zimmerman said: "Everybody must get stoned!"</span></div>
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<span class="s1">Indeed, it is difficult to overstate the immensity of the tragedy of Cannabis Deprivation Syndrome. Take the impact on just one community, Lavatown, NV. Once a thriving small city of suburban tracts surrounding the principle employer, The Lawrence Stanley Denton LavaLamp Factory, it is now a virtual ghost town. In the interest of full disclosure, The LSD estate endowed the research provided in this monogram through the good works of the Lawrence Stanley Denton Foundation, created as some small amends for the tragic proceeds of his cultural and financial empire and personal, willful abandonment of sanity while violating every law of god and man.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">In any case, Lavatown, is largely abandoned. The LSD LavaLamp factory is shuttered and decaying, inhabited only by murders of crows and colonies of rabid bats that eat rampant beetles as big as small cars and gnaw on the skulls of hairless rats as large as cats. The streets of the once fair city are empty but for the clumps of white hair blowing like tumble weed in the desert wind. All of the grown ups have moved on, leaving their tidy homes for the safe shelter of dumpsters in Reno. They had no choice, of course. Their children were quite mad, prowling the streets with mom’s Pyrex mixing cups, knocking on doors that would never be answered, pleading “May I have a cup of choom? Will you buy insurance? Please vote for Willard “Mitt” Romney.”</span></div>
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<span class="s1">In the early days of this catastrophe, The Centers for Unease Control (CfUC) proposed dumping large quantities of bong water into the local reservoir. The Bong Water Association, a major lobbying group, opposed this action and Congress refused to authorize Federal Agents to seize bongs except in the case of a Member of Congress of the opposing party getting caught actually huffing down a choker of kind bud. Thus, once again, our legislators found themselves in deadlock and reconciled to permit orgies in the offices of Senators with seniority to continue unabated, untaxed, and without interruption. However, it was stipulated that no more than three grams of the finest Peruvian cocaine, six magnums of expensive champagne, and four Thai trannies would be delivered between normal business hours (every ten minutes during two hour breaks between 1:PM and 4:PM). Otherwise, all the coke, hookers and booze was fine. But, no pot! “We have to draw the line somewhere!” proclaimed Senator Comedentures (R-AZ).</span></div>
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<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
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<span class="s1">So, the CFuC turned to Plan B. Without explicit authorization, out of desperation, the Foggers, helicopter born bombs of a super-double-secret mixture of MDMA, 2Cb, and NO2 were deployed over the entire D. C. area. Alas, the only thing accomplished toward staunching the advance of the plague of Zombie Insurance Kids for Romney was the melting of their already quashed egos. Yes, already lacking any self-esteem or self-regard, the ego loss had no effect. The brave folks who executed this extraordinary and perilous mission did, however, come home to giggle quite a lot and hug everybody.</span></div>
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<span class="s1"></span><br /></div>
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<span class="s1">On September 12, 2012, Secret President of The World, Cheney V.4x, was informed of the unsanctioned and failed mission that he had sanctioned. He then made the most difficult decision of his life since he had to figure out if he wanted pickle relish on his hot dog, and mustard as well as ketchup. He ordered the “nukeyurl bombin’ of Lamptown.” “Do Belize, too. I’m sick of those whiners and I don’t care if they’re bilingual. I am too. Si, comprendo par lez voose!?!”; he continued. “Oh, do New York City, too! Pronto!!! Enough with that Jew bastard Mayor. Don’t tell Obama that Bloomass and The City are smoke. You don’t have to. Okay! You’ve got your fuckin’ orders.”</span></div>
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<span class="s1">Twelve minutes and fourteen seconds after the order went out to Secret Military Command, fourteen million souls were no more casting a shadow upon liberty and All that is Right. Of those relieved of their corporeal baggage were some four-thousand and sixteen zombified Insurance and Romney election workers. A grateful nation bowed its head into a pile of radioactive ashes raining from a dark sky to give thanks to The Secret President and good riddance to Belize, that odious City of New York, its Jew bastard three-term Mayor, and noisy kids who smoked flowers.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">Hic Finis Est, </span>© Solomon 5/26/2012</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16788631500737709152noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-463045870607866024.post-71220799043077440982013-08-11T07:45:00.000-07:002013-08-11T07:45:52.897-07:00Secrets and RiddlesDear Friends,<br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-J91U8xwK9Y4/UgebczAZcCI/AAAAAAAABcw/HnaTjNndk8s/s1600/JapKap.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-J91U8xwK9Y4/UgebczAZcCI/AAAAAAAABcw/HnaTjNndk8s/s1600/JapKap.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
True Secrets cannot be told, but they are delivered in a case of steel and barbed wire and must first be known by the Strange Teller who cannot answer your own question delivered to you by seeming accident. Answers to such riddles cannot be solved, but only known. No answers can be delivered by any sage, demigod nor tutor. Real Secrets can only be known and their answers earned. The answers, should they arrive, are only for you, you.<br />
<br />
Hic Finis Est,<br />
<br />
S<br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16788631500737709152noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-463045870607866024.post-40417042127461954532013-06-19T12:42:00.000-07:002013-06-19T12:56:52.804-07:00Another little doodle…Dear Friends,<br />
<br />
Ran across this bit of mask making riffing off of an old image in the public domain. Had a little fun with it.<br />
<br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NMqNAWS9S7w/UcIJUlBhGgI/AAAAAAAABb4/aq2P3TEorVc/s1600/tinman.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NMqNAWS9S7w/UcIJUlBhGgI/AAAAAAAABb4/aq2P3TEorVc/s320/tinman.jpg" width="193" /></a></div>
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SCS <span style="font-size: xx-small;">©2013</span></div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16788631500737709152noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-463045870607866024.post-78177018882156357172013-06-17T13:25:00.000-07:002013-06-17T13:28:33.507-07:00More Visual Noodling…Dear Friends,<br />
<br />
Here is another bit of noodling with a public domain image from perhaps the finest piece of silent film plucked out of a genre that was just being first explored in cinema back in the 1920s.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NEWOBSup4O0/Ub9wXEWLreI/AAAAAAAABaU/CQuwqakseNQ/s1600/ROBOT3Mod.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NEWOBSup4O0/Ub9wXEWLreI/AAAAAAAABaU/CQuwqakseNQ/s320/ROBOT3Mod.jpg" width="150" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: xx-small;">SCS ©</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16788631500737709152noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-463045870607866024.post-61138653762253833582013-06-16T18:31:00.003-07:002013-06-16T18:31:50.384-07:00Steam Punk Motor Bike!Dear Friends,<br />
<br />
A slight fiddle with a public domain image of a steam powered motor bike from early in the last century. It must have been quite a ride.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-U0GhzfLhE3I/Ub5mAVisJEI/AAAAAAAABZc/7vplxoyrOYY/s1600/locobikeMod.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-U0GhzfLhE3I/Ub5mAVisJEI/AAAAAAAABZc/7vplxoyrOYY/s320/locobikeMod.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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SCS</div>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16788631500737709152noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-463045870607866024.post-25088120831067946352013-06-11T19:24:00.002-07:002013-06-11T19:25:59.875-07:00Another Old Buddy…Dear Friends,<br />
<br />
Another old buddy stopped by.<br />
<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1FfA0HTgf0E/UbfbXZfPwMI/AAAAAAAABYk/PIwo8UBoKqs/s1600/StalinLupMod.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1FfA0HTgf0E/UbfbXZfPwMI/AAAAAAAABYk/PIwo8UBoKqs/s320/StalinLupMod.jpg" width="234" /></a></div>
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He is considered quite a looker on his Home World.</div>
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<strike><span style="font-size: xx-small;">©</span></strike>SCS</div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16788631500737709152noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-463045870607866024.post-61670173050329059932013-06-07T12:17:00.000-07:002013-06-07T12:19:53.922-07:00My Rescue!Dear Friends,<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JRezI3sDVEU/UbIw6JaCF6I/AAAAAAAABYQ/K6iAvcOxhIk/s1600/ToyBotNegMod.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JRezI3sDVEU/UbIw6JaCF6I/AAAAAAAABYQ/K6iAvcOxhIk/s320/ToyBotNegMod.jpg" width="222" /></a></div>
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A recent transmission from my Home World. I am being hailed to stand by for further instructions.</div>
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I Remains Yours in Infradibity,</div>
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SCS</div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16788631500737709152noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-463045870607866024.post-63853229832516597072013-06-05T12:03:00.000-07:002013-06-05T12:04:11.336-07:00More Whimsey From Across the HeavensDear Friends,<br />
<br />
This little bit of fiddling from a public domain image continues a recent theme. Look to the sky. Be bewildered and question. Why have THEY not yet arrived, or have they? Are they too small to see? Do THEY live in a timeframe out of our own?<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Jbpj5eiFOXE/Ua-JmUCroNI/AAAAAAAABYA/h9RChkG5Z6U/s1600/saucerMod.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Jbpj5eiFOXE/Ua-JmUCroNI/AAAAAAAABYA/h9RChkG5Z6U/s320/saucerMod.jpg" width="283" /></a></div>
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Is a moment to we Humans comparable to eons for such creatures. Perhaps they are in no hurry to deal with such an infant civilization as our own. Perhaps they know that we are trouble brewing for them, and want to stay hidden. Perhaps THEY are so big that we actually live inside their beings, as bacteria and viri live in our own Human bodies. There are so many possibilities. The questions are fascinating.</div>
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Hic Finis Est,</div>
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SCS</div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16788631500737709152noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-463045870607866024.post-59021111229589826862013-06-01T17:37:00.001-07:002013-06-01T18:08:13.844-07:00The Mother Ship!!!Dear Friends,<br />
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The Mother Ship has now arrived! Thus, now is a good day to be alive, my Comrades and we rejoice. Spill down your gullets the Philuphian Ale and feast on the roasted loins of the Barsoomer Galumpher. So, ho-ho, we are off to the Home World, Adelphious.<br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cinJRrUefBE/UaqQ4JM0UxI/AAAAAAAABXE/iekCl96Vj_M/s1600/UFOMod.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="292" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cinJRrUefBE/UaqQ4JM0UxI/AAAAAAAABXE/iekCl96Vj_M/s320/UFOMod.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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One problems, however. We need with the getting to Luna, Moon of Earth. Some small imprecision in planning and trajectory by Central Command and the Mother Ship is a quarter million miles away on a cold or hot (depends on the sun), barren lump of stones. Fermenshup, can you get that old Apollo spaceship out of the Smithsonian? Grummphtr, we need a rocket. Off to Huntsville for you! Bring pliers and bolt cutters. The Pink Stalk Walkers have their damn giant bomb tied down like somebody was going to steal it from the freakin' lawn. Whatever. Let's get a move on!!!</div>
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In Hasty Departure, I Remain Yours,</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16788631500737709152noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-463045870607866024.post-27632662681693291482013-05-26T17:57:00.001-07:002013-05-27T17:58:41.954-07:00Our Religious Counselor, Razputine…<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Dear Friends,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br />
A guest has come to stay vid us to with to look after the children and the Tsarina. Please now to welcome Monk Razputine. Bring him now with the tea, servants. He likes a little bit of the Wodka in the brew. Oh, oh, also now he is with the live herring and the candied toenail clippings in the brew. Vhat!?! He now vants with a plates of pickled sausage served by Marina, that pert little hussie, dressed only in saucy red neglige. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fZidD_WIQ2Q/UaKpfxFN8tI/AAAAAAAABV0/YIfypmSl_e8/s1600/Rasputin2Mod.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fZidD_WIQ2Q/UaKpfxFN8tI/AAAAAAAABV0/YIfypmSl_e8/s320/Rasputin2Mod.jpg" width="240" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Can we instead just have this man shot, shot again, stabbed, poisoned, stomped and dumped in to the freezing <span style="background-color: white; line-height: 26px;">Moskva River</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-size: x-small; line-height: 26px;">. </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; line-height: 26px;">Vhat? I'm the freakin' Tsar! Get this nincompoop nannie out of the house. Do it now!!!</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: xx-small;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; line-height: 26px;">SCS </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; line-height: 26px;">©2013</span></span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16788631500737709152noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-463045870607866024.post-32644642061243941692013-05-24T13:28:00.003-07:002013-05-24T13:55:17.994-07:00More Digital Manipulation…Dear Friends,<br />
<br />
Another manipulation of a Public Domain photo of one of the most terrifying heroes of my childhood. Can you guess who this fellow is?<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HztpcgI5DAA/UZ_M8WUeKdI/AAAAAAAABVk/dT--WkMwJ5A/s1600/KarloffMod.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="181" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HztpcgI5DAA/UZ_M8WUeKdI/AAAAAAAABVk/dT--WkMwJ5A/s320/KarloffMod.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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I remain yours, as always, with one foot into The Twilight Zone,<br />
<br />
SCS <span style="font-size: xx-small;">©2013</span><br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16788631500737709152noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-463045870607866024.post-23513526158199770082013-05-23T11:51:00.000-07:002013-05-23T11:51:21.471-07:00Doctor Jekyll in His Laboratory…Dear Friends,<br />
<br />
Another doodle on a public domain image…<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QQNHl-ZwHcA/UZ5ke0DQ0pI/AAAAAAAABUk/ja5zqX280Fk/s1600/Dr-JekyllMod.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="244" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QQNHl-ZwHcA/UZ5ke0DQ0pI/AAAAAAAABUk/ja5zqX280Fk/s320/Dr-JekyllMod.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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SCS <span style="font-size: xx-small;">©2013</span></div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16788631500737709152noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-463045870607866024.post-70090570639278034232013-05-22T17:48:00.000-07:002013-05-22T17:49:35.002-07:00Almost Human?Dear Friends,<br />
<br />
Another visitor from our Fever Dreams.<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Djf9mSLAHn8/UZ1nKrXiIdI/AAAAAAAABUU/sDBqn5FYjD4/s1600/ALMOST+HUMANMod.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Djf9mSLAHn8/UZ1nKrXiIdI/AAAAAAAABUU/sDBqn5FYjD4/s320/ALMOST+HUMANMod.jpg" width="315" /></a></div>
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SCS <span style="font-size: xx-small;">©2013</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16788631500737709152noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-463045870607866024.post-21148977765554645422013-05-21T09:50:00.000-07:002013-05-21T09:54:10.709-07:00An Old Friend…Dear Friends,<br />
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An old friend has come to see you…<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-m5PKf9FJnKc/UZulLvX8KkI/AAAAAAAABUA/giLFd17yeMk/s1600/NosfetatuMod+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-m5PKf9FJnKc/UZulLvX8KkI/AAAAAAAABUA/giLFd17yeMk/s320/NosfetatuMod+copy.jpg" width="250" /></a></div>
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SCS <span style="font-size: xx-small;">©2013</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16788631500737709152noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-463045870607866024.post-91679999551326590352013-05-18T16:19:00.002-07:002013-05-18T16:21:12.250-07:00Have you seen this individual? Please contact the Authorities.Dear Friends,<br />
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Another bit of borrowed nonsense stolen from years ago and filtered through imagination and digits.<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Q4uIKiWsyYw/UZgMMLfmLgI/AAAAAAAABSc/C9m2dA1ypbA/s1600/NastySuitMod.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Q4uIKiWsyYw/UZgMMLfmLgI/AAAAAAAABSc/C9m2dA1ypbA/s320/NastySuitMod.jpeg" width="270" /></a></div>
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SCS</div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16788631500737709152noreply@blogger.com0