HypoHypergraphia

Amazing news: The Hawaiian queen and court have occupied the royal palace and are re-claiming sovereignty. And the State Dept. and Congress are actually trying to compromise with them. Many of us Americans don't realize that Hawaii was stolen from the natives by owners of sugar and fruit plantations with the help of American troops. What have we got to lose by letting them govern themselves? If you're worried about a drop to 49 states, remember that Puerto Rico has been clamoring for statehood for decades...

http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20080619/ap_on_re_us/palace_takeover

The following would be the case:

1. African-Native-American openly lesbian President of the United States
2. The 50 states and various territories would be organized into numerous tiny bioregional cooperative collectives.
3. Our police force and military would be composed of genetically-engineered "Huggy Bears" that are free of violent urges and only operate in defense mode. They would embrace felons in an inescapable but non-lethal bear hug. They would carry shields rather than weapons, a la Captain America.
4. Violent criminals who managed to elude the Huggy Bears would be dealt with by Tar Babies that get mushy when you hit or shoot them. Think Uncle Remus. The more one fights, the more one is trapped.
5. "Personal assault vehicles", a.k.a. private cars, would be illegal. Only public transit and foot-driven vehicles allowed in my Utopia!
6. Every city would have substantial, regularly tended gardens and "wild places" set aside for the chthonic, verdant powers around and underneath us.
7. Both energy and information would be free, but everyone has to work for the common good. Entertainment must be homemade from scratch.
8. Mandatory five hour lunch-siestas every day.
9. Computer programming would merge with Aikido: AikIT
10. No more pampered children and sullen teenagers! Everybody who wants to eat has to work!!!
11. There would be "silence shoppes" where people could literally buy a bit of peace and quiet.
12. Alternative sexuality would be encouraged by the government to improve public morale and lower the population. Non-breeders would receive tax breaks and promotions, rather than the current rewards for pumping out babies.
13. Those who do not wish to belong to my world will be permitted to retreat into virtual reality or go to outer space and create their own ideal way of life. The former will have to sign over all their assets to pay for a lifetime of state welfare and electronic sustenance.

Last Thursday afternoon, I was finally able to attend a diabetes information clinic. Although initially I dreaded this appointment, I found it to be very enlightening. Now I know how to use a glucometer to test my blood sugar levels, understand some of the weird stuff my body has been doing for the last couple of years, have a good idea of what comprises a sensible meal for me in my current condition, and am prepared for the event of an onset of hypoglycemia. Definitely a good use of my time (three hours with a short break).

What I did not expect was to be amused by the verbal hijinks of my fellow diabetics. Our lovely, patient instructor Irma Fernandez was presented with quite the motley crew. It was definitely a multicultural lot: a Filipina medical educator, one Tongan, one Hawaiian, one Hindustani, one Southern mutt (can you guess who that was?), an older African American gentleman, his prim and proper but extremely sexy middle-aged "Desperate Housewives" WASPy wife, an Irish American woman with a sharp redheaded tongue, a whiny blonde morbidly obese Jewish woman who resembled the Quaker Oats guy, a taciturn bald and bearded Eastern European wrestler dude, a crimson-skinned (I'm not kidding; although "Caucasian," he was the closest to a "redskin" I've ever seen in my life) type-A personality winemaker and his long-suffering spouse, and a deaf Frenchman. We seemed like the cast of an entry in the Sundance Festival. While half the group sat quietly and drank in the information provided by Ms. Fernandez, there were several notable speakers:

1. The Hindustani fellow to my left seemed to delight in finding slight errors in Ms. Fernandez' presentation and raking her over the coals. Fortunately, she recovered quickly from his verbal ripostes.

2. Mrs. Quaker Oats, a.k.a., Whiny Pants, kept telling us her life story and explaining why she is doomed to failure and thus should never try anything the medical profession recommends for her. She seemed to encourage the outbursts of

3. Paranoid Irish grandma, who freaked out routinely over her misinterpretations of the various things we learned. For example, she was dismayed to hear that organic, unmixed peanut butter was preferable to Skippy: "But there's all that oil on the top, and oil means lots of fat, and fat ain't good for ya!" At which point she was corrected about the chemistry of oil by

4. Bespectacled Southern teacher man, who had to give a few other miscreants lectures as well. I reckon I was the teacher's pet for the day, as she always looked relieved when I came to her defense.

5. Let's not forget the "deaf" French guy, who could hear everyone else just fine but claimed he needed Ms. Fernandez to come closer to repeat everything she said. Personally, I think he just wanted to cop a feel.

6. The best indie film actor of us all was Karen, the Hawaiian lady. She seemed determined to reveal every dietary indiscretion, every departure she made from the recommended eating plan, as if our class was her confessional. The funniest bit was when she told us that she had gotten into the habit of not eating the baked potato that came with her routine breakfast of steak and eggs. When Ms. Fernandez expressed her concern that Karen was skimping too much on carbs at breakfast, she retorted, "But I didn't tell you about the muf-fin!" (emphasis on the final syllable) Vanessa and I have added this to our list of pet phrases.

With luck, none of my LJ readers will rip off my tale and make millions before I get around to filming my indie picture...

Read the article and all the comments. Mine are at the end. For some reason, the submission engine wasn't working properly, whence the duplication of my comment at the bottom of the page.

http://multiplayerblog.mtv.com/2008/05/09/a-womans-take-on-the-very-worst-of-grand-theft-auto-iv/#comment-29694

I seem to be one of the few people in this venue who recognize that the quality of our feelings is not necessarily the most important aspect of our lives. I would rather feel terrible about the wretchedness of human nature or resign myself to a life of habitual failure than sedate myself with a comfortable fiction. However, I consider this a false dichotomy; these are not our only options. I believe that the truth can set us free--that is, after we allow or force our fragile hearts to undergo the eviscerating pain of suffering. I know the truths about myself: that no matter how hard I try to reconcile myself to the mores of society, the vastly different perspective of a friend or lover, and the ways of this all-too-human world, I always will manage to be at odds with institutions, groupthink, and herd morality; that no matter how much time I take to frame my thoughts and ornament my utterances, no matter how many deep breaths I take to calm my nerves and establish a tone of equilibrium, that all but a very few will misunderstand my message; that I am a bundle of perverted perceptions, an awkward Aspergian autistic astronaught (decidedly not a yes man) who is asphyxiated by the thin air of ironic frivolity and suffocated by the heavy atmosphere of formality and conformity; that I ultimately will fail, as all we mortals do, and will give up the ghost back to the wardrobe shop from whence I borrowed it; that my own feelings are too much for others, that my joy and my rage alike terrify them, that my insecurity and resolve alike alienate them, and that I pose more of a threat to self-satisfaction than a promise of contentment; that, hard as the road I travel and treacherous the perils might be, I am nurtured by the earth beneath my feet and uplifted by the indefinite spaces that beckon to be explored; that I will fall down repeatedly, seemingly defeated by the powers and principalities of this world, only to rise the next day, hale and hearty, ready to assay another ride beside my lord and master Don Quixote. While I am riddled with flaws, betrayal, and sins of all kinds, I can hold my head high, proud to be the son of my mothers and fathers, still a member of the Free Companions, still a dreamer, an idealist, and a student of Tao. And the biggest of idiots and the most wayward of fools, I suppose...

According to a caloric analysis by FDA nutritionists:

"Beer
Drink This:
Guinness Draught
125 calories
10 g carbohydrates

Not That!
Sierra Nevada Pale Ale
175 calories
15 g carbohydrates

Save 50 calories a beer!

Surprised? Most people think of Guinness as a beer milkshake: dark, thick, and rich enough to inspire guilt at first sip. But switch out a six-pack a week and you've just saved yourself more than four pounds this year. Extend those savings even further with Beck's Premier Light: At 64 calories a bottle, it doesn't get any lighter than this."

I got this from a Yahoo! Health story about healthier snack and beverage choices for people who wish to lose weight and belly fat. Guinness is relatively low on the glycemic index, apparently. :) In Ireland, living beyond "The Pale" always has been a good thing!

I can't believe I'm paraphrasing a second-rate Sheryl Crow song from 1997, but there ya go. Sometimes the eloquence circuits are a bit rusty and you've got to be happy with whatever random syllables you get.

At any rate, I probably expended said circuits writing the best resignation letter I've ever done. I began by complimenting the head teacher (our coop's closest equivalent to principal, although the role is really more mediator/facilitator/coordinator--wonder what the xp penalty is for this multiclass?) for his most recent email, then offered some important information about tomorrow's meeting. Having created a comfortable environment for attending to serious concerns, I then politely but firmly let him knew that I would not be returning to teach next year. Here are the three primary reasons to which my terrible journal entry title alludes:

"You're aware of some of the factors that have affected this decision, but there are three major new ones (one negative, two positive) that came up over the break.

1. Negative: Despite my efforts to get my health and diet under control this year, I have been diagnosed with type 2 diabetes and have begun taking medication. The sedentary teacher lifestyle and the long hours of full time commitment to Maybeck will impair my chances of turning this around.

2. Positive: On Friday night, Vanessa and I decided to get married on July 19. There's a lot to do toward this end; marriage definitely will change my insurance and tax status. I have to put her first above all other priorities.

3. Positive: I have been getting so much freelance work (yep, the "break" has been not so much a vacation as a chance for me to do more lucrative work) this semester and increasing demands on my time for paid artistic pursuits that I think a career change is in order. As much as I take pride in contributing to the noble mission of Maybeck and manning the helm of an engaged classroom, I am much more suited to working with people on an individual basis and in small groups. Wisdom dictates that I respect my strengths and weaknesses rather than continue reclining on the Procrustean bed and trying to be other than who I am."

I concluded decisively but sweetly and so it goes. Or went, I guess. We'll have to see.

I've been driving my girlfriend crazy with just about every emotion under the sun. Hopefully she's doing ok, but I suspect she's hiding in the Fortress of Solitude in order to get a few oxygen-rich breaths before my next burst of hot nitrous or sulphurous air. I'll try to leave her alone for the rest of the afternoon at least so that she can have a bit less stress.

All the signs, portents, omens, auguries,avian visitations, and Biblical prophecies indicate a favorable path for my tender, sweaty feet. Good luck to everyone else out there who is undergoing his or her own transformations and metamorphoses.

P.S. I am very excited to be married soon to this wonderful woman I think of as Home. :)

A magical performance by the Bonzo Dog Doo-Dah Band from 1969. YouTube, you rule!

Matt, now I know what you mean by "Rick rolled." Now I realize why my students keep singing that horrible Rick GhAsstley "Never Gonna Give U Up" piece of dance pop shit from the late '80s. Truly one of the few songs from high school that I loathe more than Tone Joke/Loco/Def's "Funky Cold Medina" and "wild Thing."

So here are my vastly improved lyrics for this stewpit sang:

Never gonna pick u up, never gonna put u down
Never gonna write preposition'l phrases that are useful
Never gonna build u up, never gonna tear u down
Never gonna utter a string of words worth saying

Never gonna go to town, never gonna walk with crown
In my hand or inside buildings
Never gonna speak within, never gonna shave with gin
Never gonna never gonna never gonna

Fresh from my victory over the guy who doesn't know Edinburgh from his elbow, I next did battle with the latest idiot claiming to know God's plan for mankind. This bozo, Ronald Weinland - Author of “The Prophesied End-Time” & “2008 - God’s Final Witness”, claims to be the MC for the two witnesses from God that John the Revelator prophesied would reveal and defy the Antichrist. I have encountered apocalyptic bullshit nearly all my life, but this stinks the worst, methinks. I decided to ruin the SOB's trip to Israel with a nasty message.

Feel free to spam this guy until his inbox implodes and his spleen ruptures!!!

Here's my salvo in the War on Religious Terror.

Date: Sun, 6 Apr 2008 17:23:16 -0700 (PDT)

To: email@the-end.com

Subject: You are a liar, a servant of the Devil, and the worst of sinners

Message: Oh syphilitic, heretical catamite of the Antichrist,
heed my words and repent while you can.

I am not worthy to consider tying the sandals of any
of the spiritual masters whom you malign with your
arrogant prattle and pathetic claims, but I know that
you are an impostor and a damned liar!

How dare you open your filthy mouth and spoil the
Gospel of Jesus Christ with your Satanic lies!
How dare you compare yourself to the prophets of
Yahweh!
How dare you claim to be the John the Baptist to the
two witnesses of Revelation!
How dare you claim to know the mind of God, when even
Jesus Christ humbly admitted that he did not know the
hour of the Apocalypse!
How dare you claim to correct the Jewish people, whom
Yahweh has marked with his favor throughout history
despite their trials and tribulations!
How dare you claim to be a minister of God!
How dare you stand with your head held in Luciferian
pride when you should be on your knees in sackcloth
and ashes, begging for forgiveness from the Three whom
you slander with your blasphemous utterances!
How dare you spread fear and insanity in the name of
God, who is not the author of confusion but the source
of Love!
How dare you spit upon human suffering, you sadistic
bastard of demons!
Your books have dishonored the faith and everyone
associated with it and you are nothing more than a
paranoid schizophrenic drunk with diabolical
delusions! See--you have made me so furious I wrote a
run-on sentence!!!!!!!!!!

May God have mercy upon your sorry soul!

Dagdaffyd Llawfhionn
Scion of MacBeth mac Finlaech, child of the Cherokee,
young lion of Clan Chattan, faithful servant de
Nuestro Senor Don Quijote, proud bearer of the White
Crane's standard, unworthy to imitate Jesus the Christ
but willing to fight to the death for his honor.

Tanzanian witchdoctors cannibalize albinos for spell ingredients:
http://news.yahoo.com/s/nm/20080403/od_nm/witchcraft_dc;_ylt=As3Fl.JlCPpklokiyUsIf0as0NUE

Here's one for V--Diaper-clad monkey escapes Fla. home
http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20080404/ap_on_fe_st/odd_loose_monkey;_ylt=AmTdGqcTZbdFfrXkw6H4WTUZ.3QA

Diamond thong shown to the throng
http://news.yahoo.com/s/nm/20080403/od_nm/thong_dc;_ylt=AsCvTOI2c56u4mCxfMn.F74Z.3QA

Herpetokleptomaniac moman shoplifts reptile, shoving snake down her pants:
http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20080404/ap_on_fe_st/odd_boa_constrictor_theft;_ylt=AooHQ2vfMuf6M23Dg3_HpdQZ.3QA

A tiger devoured a mentally ill man who entered the animal's zoo cage in northeast China:
http://news.yahoo.com/s/nm/20080404/od_uk_nm/oukoe_uk_china_tiger;_ylt=AtI0UjhHfYiVE4_0zYehkY0Z.3QA

Iron deficiency or money-making opportunity? Man accused of stealing pizza pans:
http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20080404/ap_on_fe_st/odd_pizza_pan_theft;_ylt=AliyHyuaNNGEAEtfAwGFOIYZ.3QA

And the final kicker is so good I had to paste the whole thing here:

BELGRADE (Reuters) - A Serb farmer used a grinding machine to cut in half his farm tools and machines to comply with a court ruling that he must share all his property with his ex-wife, local media reported on Thursday.

Branko Zivkov, 76, told Belgrade daily Kurir he had been ready to give his wife Vukadinka her equal share of everything earned during their 45-year marriage, but was furious at being asked to give away half his farming equipment.

Instead, he bought a grinder and cut in two all his tools, including large items such as cattle scales, a harrow and a sowing machine.

"I still haven't decided how to split the cow," he told the newspaper. "She should just say what she wants -- the part with the horns or the part with the tail."

A recent study suggest that the same area of the typical heterosexual male brain deals with desire for sex and financial gain. Apparently seeing pictures of pretty women makes men make risky financial decisions. Tell me something I didn't know!!!

http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20080405/ap_on_sc/finance_and_sex;_ylt=AmpBXsjYw8PLd1D9DeKyjwCs0NUE

I get tired of the ignore-ance of blowhards who think they are experts. So often, these self-appointed critics and pundits reveal the shortcomings of their education, reading habits, and critical thinking faculties.

Here is a review of a book on Edinburgh where "Underwear H. Crown" (OK, he spells his last name with a silent i and I reversed the order of his names, but the translation is accurate) displays complete stupidity about the relationship between Scotland's official capital and Gaelic culture. Below it, you will see my rebuttal and verbal ass-kicking of this contemptuous lout.

http://www.amazon.com/review/RGBJJTHBBLPLR/ref=cm_cr_rev_detmd_pl?%5Fencoding=UTF8&cdMsgNo=1&cdPage=1&cdSort=oldest&cdMsgID=Mx3GPYHJI0LX7VK#Mx3GPYHJI0LX7VK

I'm still buzzing from the most wonderful birthday party ever. Vanessa organized, cleaned, mixed, arranged, decorated, planned, contacted people, bought supplies, and decorated. Our friends Sybyl and Henry arrived early and helped us clean and greenify the living room. Penny, her mom, lent us a cooler and a table, as well as bringing more drinks and food. I was touched by the turnout; nearly everyone who was invited came (we missed you, Nick and Renee!). Gwynne made me a gorgeously green, scrumptious carrot cake--mmm, hmmm! She also sang me an exquisite song, "The Bonny Boy." I look forward to giving her the recording (I recorded all the music we played on my MacBook Pro).

In addition to the aforementioned, there were the following guests: Rich, V's dad; our friends from American Canyon, Aimee and Chris; a family I tutored for 6 years in SF, Zach, John, and Kay; an SF musician with whom I've played for 5 years, John Wilson; Monica, the bride-to-be of one of my best friends, Matt, from St. John's and another musician; and two other Johnnie musicians, Mitch (Santa Cruz) and John (Berkeley).

At several points, I found myself in such a state of joy that I wondered if I were dreaming...

I love mein fraulein so very much and hope her headache is gone when she wakes up in the morning. :)

The first one is a poodle parody of Susan "Stop the Insanity" Powter; my Irish pal, Brian Edwards, sent it to me. The second one was linked to the first by YouTube. You've gotta watch for yourself to believe. Oh, yes, you will believe and you WILL be scared, very scared...

Here's a parody of one of my favorite films of all time.

People talk about Bonnie Raitt, Susan Tedeschi, and Rory Block, but Cindy Cashdollar is the real deal. Here she is in an awesome duet with another great slide guitarist, Louisiana's Sonny Landreth, playing one of the classic Delta blues by the master, Skip James.

Although she walked right beside Ms. Parks and Dr. King, Johnnie Carr is nowhere as widely known as those two seminal figures. Carr was every bit as important in her own right and deserves a few minutes of silence today in her memory.

http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20080223/ap_on_re_us/obit_carr;_ylt=Ah3LHmpCeO0GJloEnWKW.u3Za7gF