Posted by on July 7, 2014 at 6:23 PM
Jul 072014

Yep, summertime, and we be chillin’, planting plants, drinking wine, walking the beach;
not blogging so much right now.
We’ll be back after a few weeks of R & R.  .  .  Be good to yourself, and everybody else, too.



Because You Should See This.

 Posted by on June 4, 2014 at 11:21 AM
Jun 042014

The patch of sky in this image has been previously studied by astronomers, and is known as the “Hubble Ultra Deep Field.”  With the addition of ultraviolet light, they combined the full range of colors available to Hubble, from ultraviolet to near-infrared light.  The resulting image below is made from 841 orbits of telescope viewing time, and contains approximately 10,000 galaxies.


But wait.  Take a moment to grasp the scale of this image.  You may have some idea of how big the earth is, especially if you’ve taken a jet ride to Hawaii or Guam, or some other location that required several hours to reach.  You also know how big an orange is.  Stars are no closer together than a dozen oranges might be if they were floating around at maximum distance from each other inside a hollow sphere the diameter of our planet.

StarsAnd Oranges

So take a little of your time to daydream about why the universe we can see is SO ABSOLUTELY HUGE, and your chances of seeing more than the world your butt is sitting on are, yes, really, also huge.*  And if you have some time to burn, you should burn it at the ZOO— classifying galaxies.   Or here.   Or at the very least, get impregnated with a few amazing facts:

* Or, if you’re tired of having a meager cosmology and want answers to the important questions, go HERE.

Real Climate Change Coming

 Posted by on May 22, 2014 at 12:12 PM
May 222014

That’s right;  it’s a hard, it’s a hard, it’s a hard, it’s a hard, it’s a hard rain gonna fall.

Oh, where have you been, my blue-eyed son?
And where have you been my darling young one?
I’ve stumbled on the side of twelve misty mountains
I’ve walked and I’ve crawled on six crooked highways
I’ve stepped in the middle of seven sad forests
I’ve been out in front of a dozen dead oceans
I’ve been ten thousand miles in the mouth of a graveyard
And it’s a hard, it’s a hard, it’s a hard, it’s a hard
It’s a hard rain’s a-gonna fall.

Oh, what did you see, my blue eyed son?
And what did you see, my darling young one?
I saw a newborn baby with wild wolves all around it
I saw a highway of diamonds with nobody on it
I saw a black branch with blood that kept drippin’
I saw a room full of men with their hammers a-bleedin’
I saw a white ladder all covered with water
I saw ten thousand talkers whose tongues were all broken
I saw guns and sharp swords in the hands of young children
And it’s a hard, it’s a hard, it’s a hard, and it’s a hard
It’s a hard rain’s a-gonna fall.

And what did you hear, my blue-eyed son?
And what did you hear, my darling young one?
I heard the sound of a thunder that roared out a warnin’
I heard the roar of a wave that could drown the whole world
I heard one hundred drummers whose hands were a-blazin’
I heard ten thousand whisperin’ and nobody listenin’
I heard one person starve, I heard many people laughin’
Heard the song of a poet who died in the gutter
Heard the sound of a clown who cried in the alley
And it’s a hard, it’s a hard, it’s a hard, it’s a hard
And it’s a hard rain’s a-gonna fall.

Oh, what did you meet my blue-eyed son ?
Who did you meet, my darling young one?
I met a young child beside a dead pony
I met a white man who walked a black dog
I met a young woman whose body was burning
I met a young girl, she gave me a rainbow
I met one man who was wounded in love
I met another man who was wounded in hatred
And it’s a hard, it’s a hard, it’s a hard, it’s a hard
And it’s a hard rain’s a-gonna fall.

And what’ll you do now, my blue-eyed son?
And what’ll you do now my darling young one?
I’m a-goin’ back out ‘fore the rain starts a-fallin’
I’ll walk to the depths of the deepest black forest
Where the people are a many and their hands are all empty
Where the pellets of poison are flooding their waters
Where the home in the valley meets the damp dirty prison
And the executioner’s face is always well hidden
Where hunger is ugly, where souls are forgotten
Where black is the color, where none is the number
And I’ll tell and speak it and think it and breathe it
And reflect from the mountain so all souls can see it
And I’ll stand on the ocean until I start sinkin’
But I’ll know my song well before I start singing
And it’s a hard, it’s a hard, it’s a hard, and it’s a hard
It’s a hard rain’s a-gonna fall.

The HELL You Say. . .

 Posted by on May 17, 2014 at 12:56 PM
May 172014


No, there is no “hell.”


Well wait.

There are all those thousands of supposedly rational people who still believe that the all-loving, all-merciful, all-knowing God they profess belief in, maintains a gigantic universal “Lake of Fire,” at enormous expense, too, and probably available on the heavenly Celestial Cable base package under “entertainment,” which has endless close-ups of flesh melting off bodies, with a roar of continuous agonizing screams.  Yeah, boring.

On second thought, that would be a living hell.  You know, one of their own making.  But there is no material place called Hell.

Mm, okay, there is the brain-box of Rush Limbaugh’s enormous head, that’s gotta be pretty close to a living hell, but he’s also gotta be really close to death, too. . . let’s just say there’s no eternal material place called hell.

Shit.  Yeah, you’re right, there’s the idea of hell too, and that’s probably the most vivid and powerful form of hell that there is, really;  and you might be surprised to learn that it isn’t kept alive by just the fundie-mentalists either.  There are many weak-minded atheist trolls who, while claiming to know there is no hell (good so far) still insist on helping to keep the idea of hell alive by continually bringing it up whenever and wherever they can, in an effort to prove— get this— how dumb fundamentalists are.  The irony— it burns all the way to the center of the earth.

Hmm.  Well yeah dammit, the center of the earth must be a lot like the childish ideas of hell, too.  So if you could actually get there without having to become a resident, maybe like, just get a visa to have a look around, in a totally fire-proof suit.  I mean if you’re going to imagine an insane place like hell to begin with, it might be instructive to speculate on just how insane an imaginary hell is.†

Which raises the question, are people chained up?  Does their charred crispy flesh get rejuvenated every hour or something, so they can feel the pain all over again?  Whoa, are there even hours??  What good is torturing punishing fleshbots if they aren’t conscious of the passage of every last freaking second they’ve been burning to a cinder?

Do they eat, or sleep?  Are there restaurants?  I knew a place called Hell’s Half Acre, over near the White Castle on Cook Street;  they had some seriously incendiary chili;  makes my face sweat just thinking about it.  But yeah, this is stupid.  Of course it would just be about pain and suffering, right?  Because. . .  INFINITE MERCY!

Okay, to be fair, if there’s infinite mercy, there’s also infinite wisdom.  Infinite wisdom then, must be the eternal arbiter which determines the proportions of justice and mercy, which would be meted out in any given circumstance.  So the greatest punishment for deliberate rebellion against the government of God would be your loss of existence as an individual subject of that government;  in the last analysis, it’s clear such individuals have actually destroyed themselves— by becoming wholly unreal through their own willful choice of iniquity.

Now we’re talking cessation of existence.

And when this self-sentence is finally confirmed, the being instantly becomes as though he had not been.  There’s no resurrection from such a fate;  it is everlasting and eternal.*

So say it with me now:  THERE IS NO HELL.  Stop talking about it.  Stop lending strength to that which you wish to be free from.  Ignore those who still believe such a backward idea.  Stop wasting your time with them, and use every second you have left figuring out how you can live forever, under, shall we say, more pleasant circumstances.


*  “The living energy factors of identity are resolved by the transformations of time and the metamorphoses of space into the cosmic potentials whence they once emerged.  As for the personality of the iniquitous one, it is deprived of a continuing life vehicle by the creature’s failure to make those choices and final decisions which would have assured eternal life. When the continued embrace of sin by the associated mind culminates in complete self-identification with iniquity, then upon the cessation of life, upon cosmic dissolution, such an isolated personality is absorbed into the oversoul of creation, becoming a part of the evolving experience of the Supreme Being.  Never again does it appear as a personality;  its identity becomes as though it had never been.”    —The Urantia Book:  The Nature Of God;  Justice And Righteousness


†  Damn.  I should also mention, you know, for the hell of it, that the Jewish traditions of heaven and hell and the doctrine of devils in the Hebrew scriptures, while they were founded on the lingering traditions of Lucifer, were principally derived from the Zoroastrians during the times when the Jews were under the political and cultural dominance of the Persians.  Zoroaster, like the Egyptians, taught the “day of judgment,” but he connected the event with the end of the world;  not some hell hole of fire waiting at the end of this life for all the evil boys and girls.  Just sayin’.


Recommended reading:


My God! It’s Got Five Bars!

 Posted by on May 14, 2014 at 10:57 PM
May 142014

iPhone MonolithYeah, it had five bars for a moment, anyway.

iPhone Monolith:  Something’s going to happen.
Dave Bowman:  What?  What’s going to happen?

iPhone Monolith:  Something wonderful.
Dave Bowman:  Okay…  When?

iPhone Monolith:  When you die.
Dave Bowman:  Whe— when I die!?!  WTF!

iPhone Monolith:  Sorry, Dave.
Dave Bowman:  Hey;  is this HAL?  HAL is that you?

iPhone Monolith:  No, Dave;  this isn’t HAL.
Dave Bowman:  Who the hell is sending this?

iPhone Monolith:  I’m sorry, Dave, I don’t know.
Dave Bowman:  Hm.  Alright, then tell me what “wonderful” thing is going to happen when I die.

iPhone Monolith:  You’re going to  …   …
Dave Bowman: Hello?

Dave Bowman: Hel—Hello??

Dave Bowman: Can you hear me??
Dave Bowman:  God DAMMIT!  Focking machines.


Yes, Dave Bowman got focked over by a machine.  It happens to all of us.  But you are luckier than Dave.  You are on the internets, and you have undiscovered resources at your disposal that you haven’t even dreamed of.

So. If you want to know what wonderful thing is really going to happen when you die, watch this.

Ben Ghazi Located UPDATE

 Posted by on May 7, 2014 at 6:06 AM
May 072014

Mr. Ben “Cheeto’” Ghazi was interviewed at his home this weekend, as he watched the Packers get hammered by the New York Giants.

November 28, 2012 — WAUNAKEE, WISCONSIN —  Republican Sens. John McCain (Arizzz.), Lindsey Graham (Scumbag) and Kelly Ayotte (asshole) said Tuesday that their meeting with U.N. Ambassador Susan Rice about the attack in Benghazi, Libya, had only served to bunch up there underoos even more over the administration’s explanation of the attack and Rice’s qualifications as a potential secretary of state.

Speaking in hindsight, Senator Graham said,  “Let me be clear, bottom line, I’m more disturbed now than I was before, that the explanation about how Americans died in the Ben Ghazi thing, by Ambassador Rice I think does not do justice to the reality at the time and, in hindsight, clearly was completely wrong.”  Asked if he had been briefed on the weekend CIA interview of Ben Ghazi, Graham said he had no knowledge of anyone named Ben Ghazi, but that he thought it was “supposed to be a town over in Libya somewhere.”

Ghazi was contacted at his suburban Waunakee town home Sunday by CIA agents, during the Packers-Giants football game.  Thirty-six year old Ghazi, an admitted Cheetos and tv addict, told the agents, “Yeah, I know all about Ben Ghazi—because, you know, like, I’m him.”  Ghazi also told the agents he was recently discharged from his position with Lamers Bus Lines in Waunakee, and fell into a funk over the misfortunes of the Green Bay Packers football team, and had been binging cheetos for several weeks.

Agents confirmed Ghazi was not a person of interest in the government’s Repuglican’ts endless attempts to assuage the obsession of Sens. McCain, Graham, and Ayotte with the possible nomination of Ambassador Susan Rice, but felt they deserved to know everything there is to know about Benghazi, even if it is just some loser cheese-head from Waunakee.

(Mr. Ben Ghazi’s brother, Buck Ghazi, contributed to this report.)



Ben Ghazi relaxes at home.Ben Ghazi relaxing with a plate of Taco Bell “Chicken Fiesta Taco Salad,” a crispy tortilla bowl filled with marinated all-white meat chicken, and loaded with potent chunky beans, real cheddar cheese, seasoned rice, crisp shredded iceberg lettuce, tiny-diced ripe tomatoes, red tortilla strips, reduced fat sour cream, and served with citrus salsa on the side.

UPDATE: May 7, 2014 — WAUNAKEE, WISCONSIN —  Ben Ghazi, the unfortunately-named couch munch from west Waunakee, had been keeping a low profile since “That Dick Darrell-somebuddy in Washington turned [his] life into a living hell” two years ago.  “Every time I turn on the teevee now, it’s a bunch of ass-wipe Republicans blathering on about me like I was some government plot that re-elected Obama.  Shit man, I’ve never ever even registered to like, vote, fur Christ’s sake.”

Ghazi has been working odd jobs since his abrupt dismissal at Lamers Bus Lines two years ago.  His latest “job” is at the Taco Bell on West Main, where Ghazi mechanically says his responsibilities include “greeting customers at the drive-thru, taking and ringing up orders, handling money and like, thanking customers.”  Looking up at invisible noon, he adds, “I prepare the, you know,  food ingredients, and I assemble the food and beverage orders, then I check to make sure they’re like, correct, and I put it in a, I mean I ‘package the products,’ and help maintain a clean, safe work and dining environment.”

Taco Bell on West MainThe Taco Bell/KFC on West Main in Waunakee.

Ghazi says he is slowly learning to be friendly and helpful to customers and co-workers.  His biggest problems are dealing with customer needs and solving food or service issues, though he also has serious issues accepting coaching from the “management team,”  and maintaining a “clean and tidy appearance,” and good work habits.

But he is noticeably angry as he relates how he has lost several jobs because of his name.  “This one guy, this talking-hemorrhoid boss I had over at Turbo Burger fired me, because he said I was a, like, “threat to our nation’s interests!”  His eyes dart back and forth.  “Another dickwaddle down at Applebee’s on Saratoga fired me after like, twenty-four hours, because he said I like, reacted like, too slow, to, you know, the customer’s problems;  ‘just like I did in Libya.’  I mean, I never been to Libya!  Seriously bro!  What the fuck is that about, huh?

Benghazi may not be affecting many Americans’ day to day lives, but Ben Ghazi?  Yeah;  it has “fucked [his] life up.”  On the bright side, Ghazi has recently been seeing a professional massage therapist, and has not eaten more than “several bags” of Cheetos in, “like, over three weeks.”

(Mr. Buck Ghazi, and Mr. Sigurd “Vader” Skogstad, day shift manager at the West Main Taco Bell in Waunakee, contributed to this report.)








 Posted by on April 29, 2014 at 11:11 AM
Apr 292014

Did you see it?  That overused, offensive, stereotypical “trope” in the opening credits— “Bitch Media.”

Here’s another one that comes crawling out of the media cave:

Jane, Anita, you ignorant slut.”

Okay yeah, the “we’re being treated as just a bunch of tropes” riff is her thing, but it’s made possible by discarding all the other films that don’t treat women that way, isn’t it.

Why yes, I think it is.