A Poem.

There's atrophy of life in a world not worth knowing,

showing that in this world growing's stowing time in a box called the body,

where the soul and the mind collide,

not stymied by the divide between the morality of one and the morality of all,

which is stalled by desperate desires for perpetual poignant power promoted by the heres and the nows.

Hear me now,

the gears are in motion, moved by steam from water from heat from fires stoked by the greed of those needless unneeded men who fancy their aristocracy god sent now see,

there's an atrophy of life in a world not worth knowing, 

an epiphany: in all lives but these.

Dutch Amaryllis.

Public, we all know that the economic affairs of our country are in a state of disarray, but we've gotten to a remarkable point in our nation's history. There have always been those who, through decisions of their own, have ended up in a sorry condition. However, more so now than ever, they are pinning their hopes and dreams, and problems and grievances, on the more well-off. Of course, you all know that I'm talking about the very homeless, the vagrants, and the crack whores that make this wonderful country so unique.

Now people, before I describe to you my experience today on the way home from eating at my favorite, the fabulous New York Japanese restaurant, Masa, allow me to first profess the profound impact that this event had on me. I know, as we all do, that there will always be those whose ideals do not match those that we have. This fact is undeniable and based on the unassailable logic that your mind is not anyone else's. But, checking the imminent philosophical tangent that I was most certainly about to scurry off on, we must learn to live with these differences in ideologies. There are some glaring cases, though, in which the perpetrator of his or her ideology is obviously infringing upon the moral decency of not subjecting others to situations in which they are either forced to accept or reject their ideology. Unwritten rules aside, my tale chronicles one such an instance where I was forced to take a deep breath and take a long, hard look at my own love for a capitalistic society...and make a decision. I will not lie to you America, it was not easy. But as you read this excerpt from my life I'm confident that you will come to appreciate my actions for what they were: right.

Now as I say, I was strolling home from a delightful evening at a delightful restaurant with a delightful woman who ordered a delightful meal from which I stole a delightful bite and subsequently squirmed with delight at the delightful taste sensation prepared by a perfectly delightful little Japanese cook. Just as subsequently as the previous subsequence, my night was quickly fouled by the sight of a man aside the street I was walking on. He leaned against a brick edifice which held the busts of Nicola Sacco and Bartolomeo Venzetti. As I watched, he slumped to the sidewalk, still leaning against the structure, and raised his face towards the heavens mumbling some sort of nonsense that I was not close enough to hear. I thought to myself, "A drunkard, no doubt". Subsequent to the subsequent subsequences, I crossed the street to avoid the unpleasantness of walking past this man.

Again able to focus on the delightfulness that had graced my life that evening, I strolled closer and closer to the man (from the opposite side of the street) when I noticed a flower box on my right. An amateur florist, I stooped to get a closer look. Bands of soft pink seemed to embrace the pale white interior of the Dutch Amaryllis that inhabited the box. I picked up one of the flowers and held it gently to my nose for a long moment, inhaling the beautiful aromas which were to delight my lady friend on our date the next evening. To my dismay, the moment was ruined by a voice full of sorrow and rendered pitiful by its weakness. Though incoherent, I thought it best to turn and see that the man had not been harmed in any way. Tearing my nose away from the flower, I stored it safely in the breast pocket of my sport coat and turned toward the man.

In the darkness I could faintly see the drunkard beckoning for me to come closer. Reluctantly, I crossed the street towards the poor fellow, for what could be more beastly than to leave a man stranded and inebriated on the side of a road?

As I drew closer to the man leaning against the busts, I noticed what the darkness of the night had hidden from my sight just a few feet previously. The man had long matted hair, filthy in both beard and the hair on his head. He wore a tattered smock and cargo pants that were stained with who knows what sort of grime. His hands, as they rose to grasp mine, shook violently at the ends of startlingly skinny arms. Mastering the sudden feeling of revulsion that assailed me, I allowed the man to take my hand. When he looked up at me, I could see that tears were streaming from his sunken eyes down his emaciated face, leaving long, thin trails in the dirt that covered it. His eyes were those of a man whose soul was tortured by the very existence of the universe. In them I could see that what this man was enduring was a self loathing so complete that I should not have been surprised had he, then and there, simply thrown himself in front of the cars that were passing on the street; and I suspect that he would have, had he had the strength to do so.

And people, do you know what he asked me? He asked me if I would, "please", spare some food for him. If I could, "please", loan him a few dollars. He asked me if I might, "please", be able to even give him a few cents. Do you know what he was really asking me America? He was asking me if I would, "please", abandon the ideals of the greatest country on earth. If I would, "please", value his hardships over the very foundations of my being. Do you know what I said America? I said, "No". I said, "It's not my fault you've made the choices you have." I told him that "it's not my responsibility to make sure that the people who don't make wise decisions in their lives are provided for." And public, it's not yours either. 

As I walked away he begged for just one more thing. He asked me if I might, "please", at the very least retrieve for him a flower from the box across the way.

I turned my back to him and walked back across the street. As I did so I pulled my Dutch Amaryllis out of my pocket and examined it again. The petals had drooped a little bit and I had even crushed one of them in the process of putting it into my coat. The small, delicate flower had lost its beauty. It seemed to me to have absorbed some of the filth that still clung to the man on the other side of the street whose head remained angled toward the place where my body had been moments before.  

I leaned over at the box and gently replaced my tarnished flower in its original position. After retrieving a new one, I held it to my nose, trying to recapture the delightful moment I had been having prior to this event. 

Subsequently, I succeeded.

Humble Pie.

Public, it's a somber day. A recent poll showed that near on forty percent of America's youth support socialism over capitalism. I had intended upon being sickened in my post today, but an overwhelming sorrow o'ertakes my oration, obviously brought on by our less than omnipotent offsprings' impotent, incredulous intake of external propaganda.

Moreover, more malicious than making maddening polls mortifying the morals meticulously marvelously carved out by capricious capitalists, of which we should capitulate to: Audacious activities arranged by arrogant, angry activists who are aspiring to adopt an autocratic AND ostensibly bureaucratic anomalous artificial government.

But people, the fact of the matter is that there is no one that we can blame other than ourselves. The biggest influence on children is, of course, their parents. And when they hear us complain about this and that in the "market" or how we've been lied to and led astray by our government, they naturally assume that our complaints mean that we do not support the aforementioned establishments. This of course is a falsehood. We adore our country and everything about it.

We cannot, parents of America, assume that our children know to what extent we are dissatisfied with our way of life. We must express our distaste for governmental action and the hills and valleys in the stock market in such a way as to convey our interminable respect for said subjects. So let this, please, be a warning to us all. 

If we allow our children to continue to extrapolate from our comments that we dislike the structure of our country, they will develop a genuine dislike for it. So talk to your children about the dangers of a socialist or any other foreign economic system and those of a totalitarian or a utilitarian government. Education is the road toward conservatives, and we need not have that road diverted. Change, people, is not only not good, it is NOT necessary.

A Capitalist In Fact.

While trading stocks on a bustling Wall Street this morning, public, I had an epiphany that had little to nothing to do with my occupation. Though admittedly, if one were to try not unreasonably hard they would find that they could make innumerable connections between my epiphany and my occupation. If I could offer a bit of advice at this point, allow me to point out the prolific increase in the stock price of Curtains, Curtains, and More Curtains® this morning and suggest pouring all of your savings into said stock. But it seems that I've divulged a bit from my story. Getting back into it, between staring at computer screens of scrolling numbers incomprehensible to me and yelling incoherently into a crowd to seem as though the numbers were not incomprehensible, I realized that I am a capitalist.

I imagine that right about now you must be thinking, "C'mon T! As if this realization was not evident from the description of your fine philosophical periodical! Was it REALLY necessary for me to point out that you MUST obviously know that you are an America-loving capitalist? Please stop wasting my time and drop the trivialities T, there must be some more enlightening information that you wish to impart to me in this narrative." And in fact reader, you would be right. There is a more meaningful message to my effluence of words. However, you jumped down my throat so quickly that I was not able to express this meaning adequately enough to sate your desire for the lessons that I have to teach. Patience, please.

First, allow me to applaud your obvious thirst for knowledge: *Clap, clap, clap*. But I must ask that you contain yourself in the future. That done, let us begin where we left off.

I realized that I am a capitalist. As I continued to trade with monies given to me by prospective investors with no knowledge that I had no knowledge of that which I was investing their money in, I realized that I was in love with what I was doing. Not because I was not personally risking my money on investments that were no doubt flops, but because SOMEBODY was risking their money on investments that were no doubt flops. People let me tell you, this warmed my heart so "heart"ily that I very nearly put an ice pack to my chest.

Capitalism, ladies and gentlemen, is more than just an idea. To those of us who look closely at the machinations of the lives of both the incredibly successful and the incredibly unsuccessful, we see that there is a common denominator, capitalism. It is a wonderful economic system to be sure, but also a wonderful way of life. For, without the inherent risks involved in free enterprise, how could any one of us claim to deserve the things that we have (or don't have)? In our beautifully crafted system of winners and losers, we've left room, thankfully, for a middle-ground as well. Those who are unpatriotic enough not to risk enormous amounts of time, money and energy in support of the economic welfare of our country occupy this economic level.

But readers, I must implore you, do not seek out these wrongdoers, for they know not what they do! They do not, as the very nature of their actions suggests, support the socialist and communist heathens of countries who value "true" equality. No, rather, they fear for their own livelihood instead of looking toward the greater good, the greatest good, America. Again though, they cannot be blamed for their selfishness. It is human nature to want to "play it safe" to preserve their own interests above the interests of all else and all others, regardless of how obviously they deserve be a priority of the aforementioned middle-grounders.

It has occurred to me, public, that many of you may have questioned my earlier statement about socialists and communists valuing "'true' equality". Allow me please to elaborate, for many of you may not have caught the satirical way in which I referred to these countries.

What could be truer than the equality exhibited in the United States of America? Everyone is, at birth, by virtue of the very method through which birth is given, at the exact same social and economic status. It is then very clear that, as they all are the same at the moment of the beginning of their existence, every person in this country has had the exact same advantages and opportunities as every other. Those proponents of socialism or some other equally erroneous form of economic system claim that there is not, in fact, equal opportunities for every American. They claim that the children of the rich have more opportunities than do those of the poor.

People, I say to you that allegations such as these are outright outrageous! Just thinking that such people can think such things makes my blood boil so much that I very nearly need to put an ice pack to my entire body. How dare someone suggest that, because a person has more or less money, they have correspondingly more or less opportunities in modern America!? Public, I like to think we've progressed beyond that type of ridiculous stereotyping, but I suppose that I will have to address such naive notions. And I WILL do so now!

Now, there is undoubtedly a trend with respect to the success of children of wealthy parentage and those of impoverished parentage, do not get me wrong. However, this trend is NOT due to inequalities of opportunity! It is simply due to the nature of the children and the degree to which they apply themselves. While the poor are out joining gangs, the rich are indoors studying! While the poor are snorting cocaine, the rich are sipping mint juleps! While the poor are counting smaller amounts of money, the rich are counting larger, and thus improving their arithmetic skills more rapidly! People, I could go on! However to do so would be the epitome of redundancy! So I leave you with this demand: DO NOT blame your hardships and/or shortcomings on American society. It is unbecoming.

Thank you.

Hold On To Your Hats Cause Mirages Aren't Just On The Ground Anymore.

People! Disturbing news from the front. You know that sensation that you experience when you're really thirsty? Or dehydrated? Or driving on asphalt? That moment of sheer terror before you realize that the street isn't melting in front of you? Well it would appear that that phenomena...it's not just in your head. It's leaped out and begun it's assault on a new territory that is rightfully the property of the U.S. Government. Space. That's right, mirages in space. Many speculate that it is the Russians that have in fact aided our sworn perceptual enemy into the great expanses of the new American Frontier. And I need not express, people, for the statement is redundant to the ideas that I'm sure have invaded your mind, that we WILL NOT let this go unanswered.

Fortunately, America's top astrophysicists have already unraveled some of the mysteries behind said transgression against our state. The name given to the Russian devices that produce these cosmic mirages are "quasars". A quasar, or a QSO is/are, respectively, a quasi stellar radio source, and a quasi stellar object, which are, in fact, one in the same. Luckily for us, the Russian engineers responsible for these objects apparently did not take into account the advantages of stealth, for one quasar emits more light than all of the stars in the universe. Folks, that's a lot of light.

Now, it may not immediately be apparent to the average American how our ability to blaze the proverbial trail of the interstellar frontier is hindered by the appearance of Russian quasars throughout the galaxy. Allow me, if you will, to provide the explanation.

Mapping the universe, as you may well imagine, is a rigorous task requiring the utmost precision of measurements and calculation. Our adversaries ingeniously place quasars behind large stellar bodies. As the light emitted from the quasars reaches the outer edges of these bodies, it is bent by the gravitational forces produced by the rotation of the aforementioned masses. This produces one, or two, or three, or four, or even more images of the SAME quasar in different locations throughout the galaxy. Obviously, mapping objects that are not actually occupying  the space that they appear to be occupying creates serious flaws in the navigation of the universe.

Again, luckily for NASA, the Russian government launched its malicious campaign to foil our exploration attempts before their quasar-production techniques had been refined enough to cause any serious damage. Many of the quasar mirages created are only a couple of arcseconds apart from one another, when viewed from Earth (for those of you who don't know, an arcsecond is one thirty-six hundredth of a degree in length). One example of this is the first quasar ever discovered, 3C 273, in the year 1962.

However, recent developments in the Russian Space Program (RSP) have allowed the quasars to be placed in strategic locations behind the largest masses in the universe, clusters of galaxies. To date, the largest separation between two gravitationally lensed (miraged) quasars is found in the group SDSSJ1029+2623, discovered in the year 2006 with a distance of 22.5 arcseconds. That's 22.5/3600 of a degree people. Potentially catastrophic space endeavors could have been undergone had our astrophysicists not discovered this. Thank God for American ingenuity.

But don't panic please. Our physicists are quickly working on ways to counteract these attempts to confound our space exploration. Currently, we are developing new ways of viewing the universe and are finding hundreds of potential quasar mirages. These hundreds of potentialities are then meticulously looked over by scientists and subsequently classified as either a mirage or just two interstellar objects closely fitting the description of a cosmic mirage. Out of these hundreds of potentials, only a handful are discovered to be Russian quasars, but thank the Lord that we are able to find at least those.

In conclusion, people, the world is once again saved by the common man and our dreams of inhabiting distant planets is not lost, for the time being.

Call To Action: Do your part and learn more about quasars and what you can do to help. The following is a list of a three of the discovered quasars in the universe, which I believe to pose the most potential threat.

***Q0957+561 "The Double Quasar"

***SDSSJ09464.90+183541.08 "The Russian Ravager"

***Q2237+070 "The Einstein Cross"

Happy Autumn?

Today I saw two children in a back alley playing the game they call basketball. One of them had a lame foot. Although he was clearly intent on his sport, the other child had such a preponderous advantage that the lame one was barely able to compete.

As I pondered the tragedy of the scene, I wondered what could have lamed the poor boy. I realized then that only one thing could have worked such mischief on the child's foot: that great Evil of Evils - Socialism.

Americans, as you conduct yourself about your various activities today, be absolutely sure that you do not allow your fellowmen to be crippled.

Today, I Walked Through Grass.

People, I know you've had a hard go of it these past few months. Shoot, we all have. But if I might draw your attention to one concept that might make your day a little better, or a little bit worse depending on your social status, I think that you will, but maybe you won't, appreciate it.

Throughout the rich and prosperous history of our country, many different people have been persecuted because of their beliefs, color, heritage, etc. By and large, things have improved. However, one glaring establishment still exists today that refuses to accept differences in opinion or doctrine, and that is, quite simply, the American way of life.

Today, I walked through the grass. There was a bike path, a footpath, and a grassy mall upon which conforming feet dare not tread. Unknowingly, I stumbled up what must be the greatest insult to the individuality of human beings in a country that supposedly values individuality above all else. With regards to the case at hand, we all know that grass is, by and large, not meant to be walked upon when alternatives are present (i.e. footpaths, sidewalks, etc.). But let us ask ourselves why this is.

Is it because the grass is in some way maimed by the act of being tread upon? Some would assert that it is. I would assert that, were I to tread upon the people who would assert that, it would most likely hurt THEM more than it would the grass. This is because they have nerves, and an acute ability to sense when these nerves are being acted upon by external stimuli. Grass does not have nerves. Grass cannot react to this type of blunt external stimuli. Grass does not get hurt when tread upon.

Now, any number of arguments could ensue pertaining to why it is and is not acceptable in today's culture to walk on grass when  suitable alternatives are available. But people, my humble opinion is this: There is NO good reason not to walk on the grass. If you do this, you've given in to the elitists who say that it is not okay for the bourgeois masses to do anything without permission from an authority. To get to the meat of the matter, let us apply this concept on a larger scale.

If you read my description, "A Boy and His Description", you will see that I do not promote the classification of individuals on an empirical basis. However, this is EXACTLY what the modern American atmosphere forces upon us every day. Consider this: We are, as youths, imparted with an innate desire to conform and be a part of whatever group that we are a part of. For example, nowadays, a girl would generally only be considered "attractive" (or any of its derivations, e.g. fine, foine, hot, smokin, bangin, truss-that-up-on -a-beanbag-chair-harness-and-smack-that-able, etc.) if she were wearing daisy dukes and a revealing top, or any combination of otherwise sexually suggestive clothing. 

People, let me ask you this: If we kept our children inside of a house with no outside influence on their opinions, what do you think that they would think was beautiful? A compelling question to be sure, but somewhat beside the point of our discussion. Undeniably, however, they would not think of it as the way that the masses think of it. The same could be said for almost any other Secondary Quality as expressed by John Locke. 

Now, keeping in mind all of the things discussed, we must ALL now be able to come to the conclusion that there must be some sort of motivation behind the stereotypes that exist in our society. And I think that an equal amount of us could conclude that the people who  are gaining the most from objectifying and altering our subconscious to create a more orderly society in nearly every aspect of our lives are: 1. The elites, who gain money peddling less and less amounts of material, now considered "attractive" clothing, for more and more money. 2. The government, who, after telling us not to walk on the grass, no longer has to worry about the supposed hazards associated with any non-conformist FREE movement throughout whichever surface on the earth that we choose to move upon (a supposedly fundamental freedom in the lives of anything and everything that can move anywhere).

So think on that.

Marty Maraschino...Like The Cherry.

Ponder with me, if you will, a cherry: Red, spherical, succulent, jarred, canned, solid, seeded, etc. Now imagine that YOU are a cherry: Red, spherical, succulent, jarred, canned, solid, seeded, etc. Now, I can say with a reasonable certainty that you, as a cherry, would be a most boring person to converse with. So I ask you, why? But before I do, let us consider a few points.

First and foremost, we must put ourselves into the shoes of a cherry in order to better understand our fruit-psyche. Commercial cherries begin as a green, earthy color when they are picked in the cherry groves of...wherever cherry groves are. They are then poured into vats of bleach. They are then poured into vats of red food coloring. They are then jarred. They are then sold. They are then eaten.

 

So, considering now the question posed above: Why? Why would you, or I, as a cherry be, with a reasonable certainty, a most boring person to converse with? Assuming of course that we had been a cherry since birth, the origin of the answer to our query would be found in the cherry groves of...wherever cherry groves are. For the sake of our discussion, let us begin as a green, earthy colored cherry.

 

Do not imagine for a moment that it is our status as a fruit is that which makes us a boring person to converse with. For, in our natural state of being, we would make very good conversationalists. However, lacking the normal means of communication that most humans possess, we must express ourselves in different ways.

 

For instance, by secreting our juices through our lateral dorsal pores, we can express anger. By secreting them through the opposite side, we can express just the opposite. The trick to communicating with a cherry is similar to that of understanding an alethiometer.

 

You must be able to read the different depths of the meaning of the secretions. For example, secreting juice through several different combinations of sets of pores can convey a meaning deeper than can be expressed simply through secreting through just one set of pores.

 

NOW! You may be asking yourselves, "Well shoot Temerius, you told me that you, or I, as a cherry, would be a boring conversationalist. This just makes cherries sound more interesting to talk to than I ever imagined possible." And you would be right. Cherries, in their natural state, can hold a great number of stimulating conversations and debates if one can properly interpret their secretions.

 

However, as you may imagine, the process of being dipped into bleach could very greatly reduce any one organism's capacity for intellectual conversations. And therein lies the problem, and the solution. In order to once again resume correspondence with our fruit-based brethren, we must cease marinating them in vats of bleach.

 

For no amount of aesthetic appeal can make a cherry, or any other organism apart from a bag of brown sugar more interesting if they can no longer converse. That is why.

I Will No Longer Be "Charitable"

People!  Let it be known that from this day forth, forward, hence, and hitherto, I will no longer, in any single one of my posts, use the word "charitable". Allow an explanation...IF YOU WILL.

Let us break down the etymology of the word which will, as of my previous comment, never be mentioned by me, in any post, ever again. First, the first third of the word: “char”. Many of you may, or may not be familiar with this word so I’ll indulge those of you who are not familiar with it with a “char”acteristsic phrase that really captures the meaning of the word in a way in which the layman can truly understand it: The “charred” remains of my mother smoldered in front of my eyes as I watched the house I had known since birth go up in flames, and along with it any hope that I had of a happy life.

Notice the truly heinous nature of the word “char”. Undoubtedly you will agree with me that any word with any part of its origin being the word “char” must imply something well…heinous. But if that’s not enough, let’s continue to the middle (the second third) of the word: “it”.

While not inherently seemingly bad natured in itself, the meaning of the word “it” has been perverted by the very evolution of the dialect that we humans speak. To even utter the word to an adolescent or an exceedingly immature adult would invoke ideas of human genitalia, among other things. Among these other things: Sex, drugs, rock and roll, etc. (in the context of the phrase: “Let’s do ‘it’”)

As we all know, sex, drugs, rock and roll, etc. have taken a huge toll on the morality of the American culture. Thus, the word “it” implies some sort of immoral act as understood in today’s teenage “lingo”. Finally, let us examine the final portion (the third third) of the Unmentionable Word. 

“Able” does not initially seem to provoke any sort of feelings of fear or apprehension in and of itself. But as we’ve just seen, words are not always what they seem. In the case of the word “Able” using a technique developed in the late 1600’s called “letter-play” we can change it into its original form: the name “Abel”.

Now if you believe, as I do, that the Bible and the scriptures contain all knowledge pertinent to life on earth, then you will notice that the name “Abel” first appears in the story of Cain and his brother Abel. We all know how the story goes; I won’t bore you with intricacies. However, it would appear that the name “Abel” implies a certainty of death to all those unfortunate souls upon whom the name has been bestowed.

You might then say, “Well Temerius, be reasonable, any person, upon which any name is or is not bestowed faces a certainty of death by virtue of being a person do they not?” It would be naïve of me to assert any idea to the contrary. But let me ask you this, do all names, when subjected to letter-play, become as common a word as “able”. I think you would have to agree that they do not. And thus there is something significant about the words “Abel” and “Able” and their undeniable connection with death.

So I’ve explained to you, beyond a shadow of a doubt why, when broken down, the aforementioned Unmentionable Word contains a heinous and ungodly connotation. I hope that you will not judge my decision, for I believe it is the only moral path to take for one such as me, a perfectly moral agent. I also hope that you will someday see the infallible reason in this argument and join me in my abstinence. Thank you.