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Cosmics
The
Classic Baby Chicken Joke
The baby chicken is signalling help. 'Help help!' yells the
baby chicken, get me out of here, it is dark in here!' 'Fear
not,' counsels the helpful person, 'Rescue 911 is on the job!'
'Eek eek!' screeches the baby chicken, 'don't crack my shell,
you clumsy fool!'
April 17 Good Friday 1981
'We are so fortunate,' sez the pious granpa, 'to be gathered
here together for our ritual Easter Dinner' 'O yes indeed'
chant the parents. 'Look look!' sez second daughter, 'the
ham is rising from the dead!'
The beer-repairman came into the skybar.'What're you doin
here,' sez the bartender, 'on account of you are not due to
repair the beer till Tuesday.' 'I know,' sez the beer-repairman,
'I just came in to use the bathroom.'
When the Easter Ham rose from the dead, Jews were surprised,
Catholics assumed it was a saint of some kind, Buddhists nodded
serenely, Muslims and Protestants disintegrated into their
usual sectarian disagreements, and talkshow hosts clamoured
for guest appearances...
The beer-repairman came into the skybar. 'Hey have you heard?'
sez he, 'the Easter Ham has risen from the dead!' 'Well,'
sez the bartender, 'it's not my fault.'
The pinnynut came into the skybar. 'Hey, have you heard?'sez
the pinnynut, 'about the --' 'Yes yes,' sez the bartender,
'I have already heard from everyone who came in today that
The Easter Ham has risen from the dead, and what I want to
know is, whaddya--' 'What in the Christ are you talking about?'
sez the pinnynut, 'because I am trying to tell you about the
new Krishna peanut-oil fast!'
Some people were dancing in the streets. Some were singing
and some were clapping and some were handing out leaflets:
HAVE YOU ACCEPTED THE EASTER HAM AS YOUR LORD AND SAVIOR?
The Mother was on the Dick Cavett Show 'Yes Dick,' she was
saying, 'I was actually present at the Transfiguration of
The Easter Ham.' 'Well,' sez Dick Cavett, '--this may seem
a silly sort of a question, but what were your actual thoughts
and feelings at the actual time, if you wouldnt mind sharing
that with us.' 'Well Dick,' said the Mother,'--I remember
sitting there at the table thinking that it was getting apricot-raisin
glaze all over the Irish lace tablecloth my husband's mother
gave us on our third wedding anniversary, and wondering if
Cheer would get it out.'
5 ops mump may 3 '92 reunion 142
'Gardening is stupid,' says Bridey Waterknee, '--it is just
another dopey human effort to control the lives of others.
If ya gotta be a control freak, why not practise anorexia.'
'That is one perspective,' says Bridey HighToe, '--but we
can also see it as a cooperative effort. You are just crabby
because of that stupid startrek book.'
Bridey AfterBurn shitted down the side of the shitbucket.
This is not invasion of privacy it is friendly anecdote-reportage.
Why is shopping absorbing?(and sometimes obsessive)...After
all, real desires are not offered for sale, the most attractive
merchandise is the least affordable, we dont want most of
the stuff we do buy, so...?
May 5,'92 7 ops mump Datura Day
The moonflowers are slowly emerging from the mulch a centimeter
a day, and the eldest has major blackshadow of the leaf. This
is a clear sign that the moon has been invaded by unfriendly
aliens.
'Ahem', says a Stickler, '-- it is not posssible to invade
an uninhabited territory.'
Thank you for yer persnicket.
'Why is it illegal to bury dead people in the garden?' wondered
Winky. 'Let's not have any long involved wonderings about
it,'sez Pinky, '--until we actually have a dead person, whaddya
say.'
'I think it is a creepy job to be a cop,' sez Lobelia, 'on
account of, if you are praised and rewarded for catching so-called
criminals, then of course you are always glad to find another
one.' 'Kind of like social workers,' sez Mandy the Terraforming
Engineer.
'Hey yeah rilly,' sez Hook, '--so many jobs are about toil
and trouble else alleviating toil and trouble...If we wanna
make money, why not use a laser printer!'
In
a society of consumers, the height of ambition is to become
a producer.
In a society of pioneers the height of ambition is to innovate.
In a society of ambitious innovative producers, peace and
quiet is a seldom thing
Our ammurrican version of classiness recognizes Intelligence
as a highclass attribute. This's all very well, but as we
haven't a clue as to how one recognizes Intelligence itself,
we content ourselves with signs and portents. Ferinstance
speed being a fabled sign and portent of Intelligence, we
gorge ourselves on fast cars, faster computers, instant food...
The reasoning here seems to be that one impersonates highclass
intelligence by irritably demanding fast-faster-instant-FTL
services.
As a marketing ploy, this scam has been well-represented in
the fairly well-known story called "The Emperor's New
Clothes". One of the more destructive symptoms of this
general malaise has been a near-sanctification of impatience,
as in: "I feel impatient; therefore I am intelligent."
That Summer In St. Louis
Moving Toward the Source
All the ships on the sea, nor all the planes in the sky
Nor all the movingvans on the roads
could suffice to sherpa
what we are anxious to bring on this journey!
It is easier to uproot and move
all the surrounding landscape across the world
than to move our own durned selves one millimeter
Nearer the Source.
Gene is patching the driveway, telling handyman stories. One
story concerns the monster fascist realestate agent for whom
Gene was working at the time who ordered several ancient trees
in the front yard of a hot property cut down so as to be able
to take a good photo of the house for listing purposes. Gene,
who cut down the trees, is telling this story to illustrate
the monstrous insanity of this employer...
Rachael said:
"Outward simplicity is misleading, because the less stagebusiness
there is to do, the more the interior complexifies."
Concepts
When the perceived remedy for a so-called affliction is what
I desire, then we are not discussing affliction at all, but
rather a procurement-mechanizm.
The Captain and the Pilot are sitting on the Fence. The Captain
is trying to make sure no one falls off. The Pilot, who knows
better, is deciding which way we fall...
Results of the What is Intelligence? survey:
80% of those surveyed responded:
Isn't that what the CIA does? So that would be - um- stealing
secrets, or something.
The 20% who didn't talk about the CIA mentioned:
learns easily; comparative quickness; ahead of the pack;intellect;
problem-solving; creative and innovative.
A Family Kitchen Moment
Dad is cooking pasta and Daughter is sitting at the counter.
'It isn't that I don't like Judy, she is saying, '--and I
know she's having a hard time right now and I know why--'
'Well of course,' says Stepmom, who is sitting at the table
chopping peppers.
'--it's just that all she talks about is spiteful stories
about our mutual friends and I feel so drained because I don't
know what to do when she --'
'I don't want to hear that,' says Dad.
'What?' says Stepmom.
'You just say "I don't want to hear that",' instructs
Dad.
'Or,' says Nurse, who is unloading the dishwasher, '--you
might ask Gardener, who has a list of techniques for -- what
do you call that, Gardener?'
'Deflecting Badmouthing,' says Gardener, who is cleaning the
birdcage. 'You say to the Badmouther--"how do you feel
about that?"; you ask "Have you said this to him/her?"
'I know she hasn't,' says Daughter.
'--but my personal favorite,' says Gardener, ' is to make
sure all your acquaintance are well aware that you have an
excellent memory and publish everything.'
Silence, during which the bubbling pasta has a chance to be
heard. Then Daughter laughs delightedly and Dad clangs the
pastapot lid. 'Just say you don't want to hear it,' he directs.
Then during dinner after having badmouthed his inlaws Dad
finds it necessary to proclaim that family dinner conversation
is not for publication.
'I don't want to hear that,' says Gardener.
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