All Quiet In The Left Hemisphere

Today's Track: They're Coming to Take Me Away, Ha-Haa!--Napolean XIV

Sometimes I wonder.
For all of our generations of speculation about things like evolution, cosmology, theology, and the true nature of rock and roll, sometimes I really do wonder whether or not man was truly cut out for the deeper issues of life.
Out of respect for issues long--and rightly--laid to rest, I won't bring up such threadbare object lessons in idiocy as the 2000 US Presidential election, P.E.T.A.'s apparent inability to come to terms with the concept of a food chain, the public education system (Motto: "Shaping the minds of the daytime talk show guests of tomorrow"), or former life-sized Executive action-figure Danforth Quayle.
No, while those are good examples, there are simpler and much more obvious ones.
Just this afternoon, I spent no fewer than two hours discussing the local lottery with a gentleman who, in deference to the fact that he happens to be closely related to me, I shall not identify. For the benefit of those of you who, like myself, have absolutely no desire to hear a two-hour dialogue on the subject of state-sanctioned confidence artistry, I will summarize:

• The lottery is not a waste of money because:
  
  
  
  • you're not really losing any money if you stand to make a big payoff, and
    
  • it's only five dollars a week, so you're really not sacrificing anything;
  
  
  
• "Besides, if I win, you'll feel pretty stupid."

What can you say to that?
Obviously, my carefully crafted mathematical arguments fell far short of the mark, and my systematic appeals to logic earned me a good solid round of relatively mean-spirited laughter. Of course, this is from the same man who believes Pat Buchanan is a liberal...

If you can't beat 'em, hide.

Pointless Mental Exercise

Today's Track: Magic Carpet Ride--Steppenwolf


How many people dream?
Trick question, because obviously everyone does.
Have you, then, ever had a nightmare?
Yes? Good. That is, probably not good, but acceptable in the sense that you know what I'm talking about. You do know what I'm talking about, right?
Really?
Wow, I'm impressed.
In that case, to continue:
What makes a nightmare frightening?
Well, you say, it has to be the seven-foot-tall, three-headed, slime-dripping monster with fangs the same size as municipal flag poles. Duh.
Perhaps it is.
But what makes the monster scary?
At this point, you no doubt point patiently at the above description and don your best talking-to-the-inmates face and wait for me to finish gibbering.
Obviously you are not going to cooperate, so I'll just handle this on my own, OK?
Nightmares are scary for the same reason that pleasant dreams make you feel so good. They seem real.
More to the point, to the dreamer, they are real.
While you dream, that dream is your whole world. It is only after you wake that they begin to seem like the preposterous foolishness that they are normally held to be.
Dreams really are silly, aren't they? Once you wake in the real world again, that is.
The real world.
And of course we make this distinction offhandedly, because it's perfectly plain that that in which we wake is always the real world, the familiar world of cars and jobs and wars and Rolling Stones concerts.
But why is that?
Why is what, you ask?
Why is it that we are so sure that we wake up in the "real world"?
Well, where else would we wake up?
Good question.
However, I'm sure, at one time or another, everyone has had one of those dreams in which you think you have awakened, only to find that you are still dreaming. And in case you haven't, let me assure you that it is terrifically disorienting.
Which, of course, is perfectly understandable. Here you are, sleeping comfortably and dreaming away, just like every night, when suddenly you "wake up". Immediately your mind falls into its accustomed waking mode, and you make a good approximation of going about your "real life". Then, suddenly, you realize that things are not at all well. Perhaps it is that the laws of physics seem to have been waived temporarily. Or it could be that the fearful beasts from your "dreams" are proving strangely reluctant to give over the chase. Whatever it is, you must grudgingly admit that this could not possibly be reality as you more normally accept it. And so, in due course, you wake. Ah, reality, sweet reality...

Are you sure?

Whilst you dreamt--in the beginning--you knew that what was presented to you was nothing other than the good old Earth, just as you'd always known it. Then, after your "awakening", you harbored not the slightest doubt that you opened your eyes on a perfectly acceptable, perfectly ordinary world, just like any other morning. And then, with a silent (or not so) sigh of relief, you finally reassume consciousness in your bed, in your home, right where you left it, and all is perfectly normal once more.

Is it?

Sleep tight, friends.

Philosophy For Humans: I

Today’s Track: God Shuffled His Feet--Crash Test Dummies


There is, I have noticed, a great deal of stress afflicting humanity these days. And I've come to the conclusion that this is due, at least in part, to the lack of free alcohol. But not helping matters any is the fact that, ever since the first proto-hominid creature pondered the unfairness of the cosmos while crumpled in a painful heap beneath his favorite tree, man has been unable to get a firm grasp on (Mr. Adams forgive me) life, the universe, and everything.
There are some questions, generally frightfully important ones, whose answers--such as whether Howard Stern is actually human or not--we cannot grasp. So man, in his unflagging drive to find new excuses to consume controlled substances, devised philosophy. This worked just fine for many years, and satisfied all of humanity's thirst for pointless intellectual trivia. But man is a fickle creature. (Fickle: From the Ancient Greek for possessing the attention span of a goldfish). Thus the eternal quest for enlightenment was interrupted by a few generations of wars, exploratory geography, and cable television. Then came the Information Age. Suddenly every piece of knowledge ever collected was amassed and put within easy reach of anyone who cared to look for it. A virtual intellectual utopia could now be born, where one had but to conceive of a question and it could be answered. The mind of man, that which set him above the beast and bird, would ascend to perfection. Naturally, mankind wasted not a single instant in implementing this unimaginable intellectual resource to view pornography.
But there are still a few individuals, mainly of the chemically-augmented variety, who insist on fanning the guttering flame of human curiosity--despite the obvious danger that a Congressional probe, probably headed by Dan Quayle, could be launched to address the subject. But, oddly enough, centuries of cognitive apathy have somehow failed to prepare man to answer the big questions. Go figure. So, in between bong hits, modern “philosophers” are quite distressed.
Well, never fear. The Masked Logician is here to help.
Beginning today, I will, from time to time, endeavor to tackle some of the perplexing issues facing us advanced primates in today’s world. Don’t forget to take copious notes, because I don’t plan on repeating myself.

Today’s Question:

Is there a God?

Now there is a tough one. Probably the single most intractable conundrum to ever be lampooned in a personal web-journal. Perhaps it would be easier to break the issue down into small, easily digestible pieces.
First, consider what you know about whichever God(s)/Goddess(es) you most strongly believe in. On average, omnipotent, omniscient, and inexplicably angry. Sounds a lot like the IRS to me, how about you? Now, think about this: If you were all of those things, would you bother with the likes of yourself?
Second, what about the creation of the universe? Supposedly, God(s)/Whatever, at some point, decided to create everything that is. Now, some people are prone to ask : What did God do for all eternity before there was anything? This is a good question, but a better one would be: Why, after all eternity with nothing--or whatever your particular creation story dictates--would God bother to make anything at all? Does this sound like plausible behavior for any being?
Lastly, reflect on what it would mean if there were a Creator. That would necessitate the existence of an eternal entity who is beyond all constraints of our reality, and who, despite being able to do/have/be absolutely anyhting, wished to spend all Its time watching us. Of course, there’s always the alternative: Against all cosmological and evolutionary odds, “intelligent” life evolved on a tiny little mote in a vast, swirling confusion of inexplicable--and here I use the precise scientific terminology--stuff. Obviously, this is absolutely, unequivocally preposterous as well.
So there you have it. Thank you all for coming, don’t forget to read chapters one and two for homework, and take your damned chewing gum wads with you when you leave.
But I know, some of you out there are shouting: But you didn’t answer anything, you miserable fraud! I feel like opening your skull with a surgical-quality hammer and spitting inside!
Well, first of all, that’s not very nice. Also, I’m sure your saliva would be far from the most dangerous thing floating around in my head, at any rate.
And besides, I meant to lay all your questions to rest. I really did. Unfortunately, it’s getting very late, and all that pornography ain’t going to appreciate itself.

Public (Dis)Service Announcement

Life needs a soundtrack. I feel very strongly about this.
(Well, ok, it’s a half-baked idea I’ve had for a while, specifically reinforced by a similar concept I’ve seen employed in many other weblogs I peruse for ideas to pilfer. Expound upon! Extrapolate, yes, that’s what I meant to say! Pilfer! Ha ha! What a card I am, huh?)
But seriously, it’s a concept that deserves consideration. Modern movies, even the stupendously bad ones, have accompanying musical scores and/or dubbed audio tracks of one sort or another. Being a big fan of music--and of slightly less enthusiasm about the rest of life--I’m convinced that a little music would vastly improve our world. Wouldn’t it be great if, at appropriate moments, giant, city-sized high-fidelity sound systems could crank out a song that perfectly fit any given situation, just like in cinema?
No, it wouldn’t. That would be very, very loud. So I decided to do the next best thing. Starting today, as I bring you real life in easily-digestible fragments, I will also note, for your convenience, a fitting musical accompaniment, which you can play at your leisure.
That way, you can feel free to sing along if you want, and none of the rest of us have to hear it.
Enjoy.

Today’s Track: The Fish Cheer--Country Joe MacDonald and the Fish
(I know it doesn't fit, but rules are only fun if you break them, anyway)

Punitive Conversation

Occasionally, in the course of conducting something roughly approximating everyday life, you are forced to interact with other people. This unfortunate necessity is responsible for most of the major maladies afflicting mankind today, such as ulcers, psychoses, and used car salesmen. But once in a blue moon (a quaint colloquialism which translates as: "Just one day before you were planning on constructing a giant catapult and using it to fling livestock parts at your neighbor's house out of sheer stress-induced spite."), the random acts of humanity which surround you on a daily basis will surprise you by actually being humorous. Take for instance this small sampling of a list I have compiled over recent years of random, out-of-context quotes which have been culled from various conversations in which I have participated:

"Oh, quack, quack, quack!"

"Hey! That looks like some of the carpet we used to have in our living room!
But, Mama, that's a 'possum!"

"It really don't sound like a lot when you break it down in terms of chickens."

"That boy's runnin' like a monkey on crack."

"Oh, er...yeah...vampire...that's what I meant."


"Mine had a big bone in it!"

"Well, let's see you do that with your arm on fire!"

"Buffalo snot on the window... *chuckle* That was a good Christmas."

"I already told you: You need to shoot the pimp before you drink the malt liquor."

"That ostrich tried to attack us! Let's go back and see if he does it again!"

"I don't care what the leprechaun said: The attic is not a good place to store corpses."

"That Christmas tree 'bout kicked his ass!"

"Damned potato!"

And, in the spirit of leaving you with some food for thought:

"Now just what the hell does a duck smell like, anyway?"

Oh, Say Can You See

The Cubicle Dweller delivers this:

The "T" word
I found this list on Wired.com:


The USA Patriot Act changes some of Americans' fundamental legal rights in the name of the war on terror, including:

· Freedom of association: The government may monitor religious and political groups without evidence of criminal activity.

· Right to liberty: Americans may be jailed without being charged or being able to confront witnesses against them.

· Freedom from unreasonable searches: The government may search and seize Americans' papers and effects without probable cause to aid terrorism investigation.

· Freedom of speech: The government may prosecute librarians, telecommunication company officials and anyone else who reveals they have received a subpoena for records related to the terrorism investigation.

· Right to legal representation: The government may monitor penal communications between attorneys and clients, and deny lawyers to Americans accused of crimes.

· Right to a speedy and public trial: The government may jail Americans indefinitely without a trial.

· Freedom of information: The government has closed once-public immigration hearings, secretly detained hundreds of people without charges, and has encouraged bureaucrats to resist requests for public records under the Freedom of Information Act. (From Wired News, September 11, 2002)

Halloween must have come early this year, friends, because I'm scared. George Orwell, save us all...
P.S.: Thank you, master juggler of penguins. You are, obviously, an inspiration to me, in the sense that your insightful, thought-provoking, and, above all, timely posts keep me from having to resort to the tedium of actually searching for information or coming up with ideas of my own.

That's Easy For You To Say

The name escapes me at present--I would greatly appreciate if someone could enlighten me--but someone once said something to the effect that anyone willing to assume power should under no circumstances be allowed to wield it. Though this is obviously obstructively cynical and ungraciously vindictive (there have been a few good, competent leaders in America's history, and as soon as I recall some, I will let you know), I've always counted it among my favorite quotes, notwithstanding the fact that I can never seem to get the wording precisely right. After tonight, though, my new favorite variation on this theme will be:

"Those people who are always most willing to assume the power of leadership are usually those who are incapable of leading anything more demanding than a moment of silence."

According to a televised memorial service held tonight, President George W. Bush, live, in real time, at the White House, led the nation in a moment of silence. Hell of a guy, huh? A great gesture. Really.
But, answer me this:
How do you lead a moment of silence?