Watch and learn, kids.

Karma – Instant vs. Long Term. There's An Error In My Account...

   I'm having a problem with the whole 'Karma' thing. It's not that I don't understand the concept – do something good, something good happens back to you – that's pretty straight forward. What I don't get is the return policy. Something good happens back to you when? The other half, do something shitty and something shitty happens back to you, seems to work fairly quick, as does the appear to do something good side of the equation. Example: a total asshole, splitting up with her husband via text message while driving to meet her boyfriend, grimaces impatiently at an old lady crossing the street slowly in a wheelchair. Others perceive the grimace as a heartfelt, caring smile of empathy. Total asshole gets to the liquor store 43 seconds after a crazed gunman kills everyone in the store (because they didn't have his favorite brand of Schnapps) and doesn't even stop to think, “Hey, that old lady saved my life!”. The error in judgment made by those who witnessed the grimace has extended the lifespan of another worthless piece of shit. Meanwhile, a genuinely really nice guy bolts in front of a bus to rescue the frightened puppy of a six year old girl, hurls the puppy safely into her pleading, outstretched arms, and is instantly rendered quadriplegic by said bus, driven by a weeping man who’s wife has just dumped him via text message, prompting him to take his own life later that evening. Question: is this error ever noticed, and is the karmic bank account adjusted accordingly? Answer: NO. The hero spends the rest of his life in a wheelchair while the total asshole evades divorce proceedings and lives a long and useless life. Now, some defenders of karma will say our quad will get his reward in the next life, and our total asshole will get her comeuppance then, as well. Fat lot of good that does in th,e here and now, where a complete reversal of justice has played itself out. Besides, what if there is no next life? What happens to all the accumulated karma then? Does it just sit there, collecting interest? Is it distributed to deserving people here in this life? I guess what I'd really like to know is why can't I get part of mine now, like maybe some kind of interest dividend or long-term investment bonus, anything? I'm even willing to waive any and all next life returns to have just one tiny bit of my karmic deposit dropped on me today. Just a little, tiny bit – I mean, who the fuck is going to notice, huh? C'mon, karmic bankers, have a little heart, who knows, maybe something nice will happen to you.

Well, I'm off to check my karmic bank account, so, as always, be safe!

TRS

G.M.I.S.P.

   Wow. It's really getting out of hand fast!  Only the beginning of June, crap weather, and yet the Grown Men In Short Pants are out in full force. Yesterday, as I was out on my daily stroll, the bastards outnumbered us sensible Long Pants guys by a long-shot.  I encountered another Long Pants-er to exchange data and commiserate with, which truly gave us a good look at the overall situation.  He had just come up from the beach (I cover the Uptown shopping district), and the scene there was horrific! He said it seemed as though he was the only male on the entire strip who had his walking sticks properly covered.  A third LP'er, who generally covers the rural beat, has not been heard from in close to a week, and we fear the worst.  It is  rare, yet not entirely impossible, for one of us to turn into one of 'them', usually at the behest of a female companion who tells us we'd look adorable in short pants.  Without others of our kind present to run interference, the poor gent inevitably goes down under the extreme pressure, and another is lost forever. We mark the passing of a brother not by flying a flag at half mast, but by wearing extra-long pants for a seven day mourning period.  If I've heard nothing from our rural outpost by tomorrow, I shall have the sad task of telling the others to prepare for the worst, and break out the Extra-Longs. It's a call I fervently hope I will not have to make.

Wish me luck, and, as always, be safe.

TRS 

Hey, GaGa, watch this, then quit show biz!

Nasal Bones and Tequila Worms

    

   As anyone who has ever met me will readily attest, I have, among many other equally annoying personality quirks, a rather large number of pet peeves. Oooh! There's one right there! Why 'pet' peeve? If they were pets, one well placed 'Free to good home' ad would quickly rid us of all those little irritants that clutter up our daily lives, keeping us away from seriously important things. Like finding tiny little things that annoy us and writing about them. Like I'm doing. Now.

    Let's get back to the top of the page. Nestled smack dead-center in my ever increasing collection of peeves, pet or other, are those two … those TWO … massive assaults against logic and reason, cold blooded murderers of common sense and rational thought, and the two peeves that disturb me beyond all others. Why do they vex me so? Allow me to explain. These two, found in the 'everybody knows' category of common knowledge, (as everybody should already know), are the two that have been blown into my face, with accompanying sour booze breath, by every single loud mouthed know-it-all drunken brain-dead mouth-breather genetic anomaly I have ever met, at any party I have ever been to, in my entire life. Ever. And what I find so offensive about these two is not the fetal alcohol poster boy spewing them, nor is it the fact that they are members of the 'everybody knows' family of pseudo information. No, the intense disgust and contempt these two pieces of 'information' generate within me result from this: if one takes the time to think one or two words past their file names – Nasal Bones and Tequila Worms – these tales, usually told with such certainty and unwavering authority, will actually prove themselves wrong to anyone capable of even base-level cognitive processing. Let's brutally dissect them, one by one, shall we? Oh, yes! Let's do!!

Our first bit of 'knowledge' runs thus:

If you slam someone in the nose with the heel of your hand, it will drive the nasal bones into the brain, killing them instantly.

Now, there's a couple of things of a physiological nature that I feel compelled to point out, but first, look at this for a minute:

    See, here's the thing, folks; the sphenoid, parietal, occipital, temporal and nasal bones are all far thinner than the frontal bone. The frontal bone is the thickest part of the human skull, and is also the area that thin, eggshell-like nasal bones are said to be punched through. The greater likelihood, however, is that the entire situation would play itself out in the other direction, resulting in a very small piece of the victim's nasal bone becoming imbedded in the assailant's hand.

    Before you come after me with documented evidence, let me say this: Yes, it is entirely possible to kill someone with the smack to the beak maneuver, but you have to realize that the person is killed by transfer shock (look it up) to the brain, and not a spontaneous nasal bone assisted pre-frontal lobotomy. In truth, a blow of the same force, delivered to ANY area of the skull, would have ended the same way - an early grave for one guy, and a great 'Hands of Death' story for another.      Also, if some part of the nasal bone (the nose is actually mostly cartilage) did, by fluke, manage to find itself driven into the brain, it would be far too short to cause any appreciable damage, let alone death. Plus, consider the area of the brain that would be pierced by said nasal bone – the frontal lobes. Possible result? Well, a somewhat calmer, more zombie-like victim springs to mind, having been the lucky recipient of a free pre-frontal lobotomy.

    Right. Enough about the nasal bone method of terminating one's foes, let's get on to the Tequila Worm. This is another one that gets me steaming, screaming stung, again due to the lack of just enough common sense to go one step further when thinking this one through. Our 'everybody knows' item:

If you drink a bottle of Tequila, and you eat the worm at the bottom, you get completely fucked up.

   I have even heard people likening the worm experience to Acid or Mescaline in intensity and hallucinogenic properties, but here's the real deal. The worm, which is not found in all Tequila, is an Agave worm. The Agave worm lives only in … the Agave cactus. The Agave cactus is used in the manufacture of certain types of … Tequila. Starting to see where I'm headed with this? The worm is included in the bottle merely as proof that the Tequila was made using the Agave. That's it. It does NOT have a mescaline content, as claimed by some, nor does it somehow “concentrate the alcohol”, an assertion made by others. The only thing the worm does, apart from it's intended function as proof, is this: NOTHING!

    So why do you get so wasted? Think about it. You've just drunk a bottle of Tequila, you're already wasted. In fact, you are already so shitfaced that you're about to eat a fucking WORM. Not only are you about to eat a fucking worm, you're trashed enough to think it's a good idea! The next time you are treated to some drunken buffoon gassing on about the 'hallucinogenic, almost spiritual experience' of dining on the pickled cadaver of some poor little Agave worm, you can do what I do – call bullshit on the story, then offer to eat the worm without drinking any Tequila, as I have MANY times (love to prove a point). I have eaten untold Agave worms, and the only sensation I have ever experienced is a mild, sort of queasy, disgust at having just put a maggot in my mouth without even the dubious benefit of being ratted on a nice bottle of Mescal. Stick with me, kiddies, you won't be popular with the 'everybody knows' crowd, but then again, who wants to be, huh?

Until next time, as always, be safe.

TRS