The Night of … 1615
I Pity the Fool
Randy Meldee (that’s what we’re calling him) dropped a N-bomb on your boy today. Had something to do with today’s episode.
We’ve recently almost mastered keeping the H8 demons away from the vessel. Besides the N-bomb, his limited vocabulary consisted of “Stupid” and the “J-bomb.” It gave Mind an opportunity to practice our craft, however the exchange told us almost all we needed to know about Randy.
When you have a nightmare, or other bad experience it’s been suggested to yours truly, to write it down on paper and burn it. We write it down and up load it. We know that Randy Meldees are out there. They are the main subject of the title track. We can’t H8’em, because we don’t live there. And we can’t change ‘em, because we’re not that masochistic, and despite this album title – we don’t really pity him. I just like saying that Mr. T classic line. “I pity the fool!”
Ever notice how screen writers, probably Meldees, like to have Black actors say, “Fool”? If you want a PhD dissertation idea in Black Film History, compile about a hundred clips of Black people saying “Fool” on TV and in movies. It might be fun.
We’re up the coast here now. After a day of sweltering heat, which beat the heat of South Florida, today struggled to get to a high-ish of 71F. It felt more like the first day of Autumn than the first day of August. This is our schizophrenic weather. I recall one Christmas, I was on the job – the temp was 75 degrees F! Pretty day too.
Maybe the problem isn’t simply Climate change, but Climate Schizophrenia. You know how these academics with alphabet soup behind their names like to “imagine” (in anthropomorphic ways) that intangible concepts are mental patients?
And there will be a post; Something like – “If this year’s weather in the United States were a mental patient under my care, I’d diagnose her with acute schizophrenia and neglected partner disorder (NPD). Hot flashes one day followed by torrential tears of anguish over how she’s being treated by her emotionally abusive mate. I’d recommend that she set boundaries and lower her barometric pressure before she blows up. To mellow out her thunderous unpredictable mood swings, perhaps some cool zephyrs, hot yoga and sandy beaches to calm her waves of despair.”
(AND THAT’S WHY I HATE MEN!) - footnote
Or some such shyt. And it would go viral too. The author would be quoted and invited to be on the news and talk shows.
“The papers want to know whose skirts you wear.”
This is where we’re at my friends. Too many humans with too much fake education. Every generation has to one-up the previous gen. You can have this pantheon of twelve “gods” in Greek mythology. It was, apparently a Greek thing, incidentally to “personify” their “Gods” into human form. Wisdom became a woman named Sophia and Jupiter became an old bearded white man that eats his children and Saturn becomes Father Time; that old fart you see at all the New Year’s Eve parties. But what else would gods look like, other than humans?
Elephants?
So the Greeks basically made Gods into Men and told stories about them and blah blah blah….
The Greek heroes weren’t good enough for the Romans, so they changed the names and told the same tired-ass stories. These stories eventually made it into the Old Testament, & the Christian Bible Where they were embellished and the main characters were changed to which ever people were writing these adventures down.
Humans have devolved from Gods to Titans to Heroes to X-Men to “Not all heroes wear capes.”
This is the Matrix my friends, and we – including your humble malcontent vagabond – feed into it. (Except I’m on a low-hype diet.)
Back in the day, in this century, when I was teaching at a University I’d tell them that I had a BS & a PhD. The PhD stood for, “piled high & deep.” You already know what BS is and that it has little to do with “science.”
Stop reading now. Unless you’re into Golden Years Fitness. (Do you hum Bowie too whenever you hear “Golden” and “Years” in the same sentence. Wait…
Now where was I?
Oh yeah. After a gala night out and a much needed buffer day – BOOM! Hit the playground. We decided that while we’re here, we’re gonna do all that most difficult stuff above the bar, (especially getting above said bar) and being upside down. (If you’re upside down when you barf are you “throwing down?”)
Asking for a friend.
We also got about a mile of running around in circles done. We have to get to at least 3.5 – 4.0 miles to feel uber confident about running a 5K (3.2 mile course.)
New month today. Seven down five to go. Still standing, as mentioned earlier today. Still indestructible. If you happen to be outside of the US, or away from the East Coast or South Florida and want to watch this character attempt to survive the collapse of “the greatest most powerful country to exist in the history of the whole world” – be sure to follow this channel.
We’re very much on the edge of sanity, but we’ve been here before so we know how to make insanity look like wisdom. Indeed, in an upside down Topsy-turvy environment you’re going to need every fable, Bugs Bunny cartoon, Three Stooges short, summer camp flashback, comic book strategy, Kung Fu theater routine , rock n soul shimmy and go cart engineering experience from your childhood to blast you through this period of slosh into a better day.
Don’t be surprised if your baby coach wheels go missing tonight.
Have a serene & prosperous weekend.
SUBSCRIBE.