I'M ON MY WAY
"And now, the end is here,
and so I write, the final posting.
My friends, I'll say it clear,
I said my piece, my brain is hurting.
I wrote, a Blog that's full.

About this and that, same sh*t recurring;

I'll spare you all, of more of this,

And hit the highway.

Re-posts, I had a few;

But then again, too few to mention.

I did, what I had to do,

And all without, editorial direction.

I semi-planned, each warped discourse;

Went off topic, but in a sly way,

But more, much more than this,

I posted my way.

Yes, there were times, I'm sure you knew.

When I bit off, more than I could chew.

But through it all, when some would doubt,

About the crap, that I'd churn it out,

I'd just add more facts, cover my ass;

but I posted my way.

I've loved, I've laughed, and cried.

But duty calls, it' not my choosing.

And now, as cheers subside,

I hope you found, some things amusing.

To think, I wrote all that;

And may I say - not in a shy way,

No more, of my cosmology,

I posted my way.

For what is a Blog, what have we got?

We think for ourselves, What the hell Why Not?

We say weird things, that we truly feel;

Publishing our thoughts, our hopes, our dreams.

My archives show, most commenters know-

I

post-ed

my-y-y-y-y-y

waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay!"

I need to attend to my affairs and since I cannot seem to control my time effectively I am hereby resigning my post, effective immediately.

I cannot thank you all enough for all of the ribbing, brilliant observations, and comforting words.

You have opened my eyes and touched my heart.

I will never forget any of you, and hopefully, somewhere down the line, we will meet again.

LIFE IS A GARDEN,

DIG IT.

THE WANT AD

I'm just an average schmo.

I live in an older home,

that was built by my Grandparents.

I was fortunate enough to inherit the estate in '85,

when my flamboyant Uncle passed on.

Gosh my cousins were pissed off at me.

I guess that I was his favorite?

My darling wife is a great gal and a very good cook.

and we have four great kids. I am a lucky fellow.

There is a nice, young, couple living next door. Brad and Andrea or Lena Something or other. Really down to earth.

My other neighbour is a little 'off ' but he's quite harmless.

Here he is arriving at one of our little dinner parties.

We managed to squirrel away enough interest that we siphoned off of the principal on one of our smaller investment portfolios and purchased a little getaway cottage. If I'm not mistaken I think it's near the equator.

It is so great to enjoy Nature.

Weekdays we somehow manage to stir at the crack of noon!

Don't ask me how?

This gives us plenty of time to get a headstart on Cocktail Hour!

When my wife takes the chopper over to the casino with her pal Sheik Yerbouti,

I enjoy fishing with my personal assistants Cookie and Destiny Something or other.

During the Winter Holidays we all try to get together to go skiing out at the cute, little, 'schallay' in some unpronouncable town in Switzerland.

Thank goodness that the 'Help' can Sprechen to the Bundespolizei if I have a little 'oopsie' in town or wander off those tricky roads late at night.

Mom and Dad bought this place for us as a wedding present.

That was so sweet of them.

This is my favorite picture of my parents taken on our BIG day.

Where do the years go?

Oh I almost forgot.

You'll never guess what happened?

The other day I won some sort of raffle

when I filled up my old runabout.

I just wish that I had more friends to share my life with.

((sigh))

I don't suppose that any of you would be interested?

THE DEATH OF TAXES

Make The Rich and the Governments atleast Pay Attention!

There is a lot more to the term Death and Taxes than you might expect. Income_Tax or IT, was originally introduced to help our Govenments finance Wars and to kill other people who were usually living in a foreign country.

For instance, Canadians were told that IT was a temporary measure to fight the Kaiser back in 1917...Right!

Americans have been fighting IT since the War of 1812 and got stuck with IT in 1861 during the Civil War.

In Britian the great unwashed were hit up in 1798 to get some dough ready for the Napoleonic Wars.

Now you know why Governments keep finding ways and means to get involved in Armed Conflicts.

Aside from that distressing reality, the most irritating aspects of Income Tax are that the uber-riche can afford to weasel out of paying their fair share, and Governments are irresponsible with our money and have seemingly unrestricted powers to enact Legislation to keep it coming in. Last but not least, most of us would prefer to be as rich as both of the aforementioned groups.

Afterall, if it wasn't for us, neither of them would be rich!

It will never happen because fancy schmancy Accountants and Tax Lawyers who suck at the teat of the wealthiest members of society, and the Government, would do everything in their power to combat any attempt to introduce an equitable solution like a Flat_Tax .

Talk about Death and Taxes how about that Inheritance_Tax ..is that the ultimate kick in the groin or what?

In order to eliminate Inheritance Taxes our beloved ex-Prime Minister Brian Baloney introduced the Goods and Services Tax or GST back in the 80s. Many of you also enjoy that beauty.

The situation might be tolerable IF we felt that our hard earned money was not wasted on assinine Government projects, financing Wars, and paying out exhorbitant wages and retirement funds to the egomaniacal scoundrels who are attracted to Public Office and gorge themselves at the public trough.

So here is the thing of it all. If we could eliminate WARS then
theorhetically the Governments would be forced to rescind Income Tax Legislation altogether!

((pin drops))

Yeah that could happen!

Most of us would probably settle for having a straight universal Flat Tax of let's say around 10% with NO exceptions for any person or corporation. Can any of you, other than Crackhead Economists, Evil Incarnate Taxation Lawyers, and Charismatically Challenged Accountants, effectively argue against atleast trying a Flat Tax.

Imagine if your entire income tax form was the size of a postcard.

You made X number of dollars last year X 10% = _______.

Thank You.

DONE!

We will never see the Death of Taxes because we expect too many frivolous niceties like Hospitals, Roads, and safe drinking Water, so we might as well make the most of it.

What would you do?

The Culture of Carcissism
If alien Lifeforms ever visited North America, they would instantly recognise that the automobile is the predominant species.

One look at our suburban garage-centric Domiciles instantly reveals our complete societal capitulation to accomodating the needs of the automobile.

Actually the homo escapeon's relationship with the car works quite well as a metaphor for our typical, modern, suburban, lifespan...

BC (before car)

When you are a child your parent's station wagon might as well have been the Millenium Falcon from Star Wars.

It was a magical, mystery, vehicle that took you to McDonalds and to Grandma's house. It had electric windows for gawdsake!

You're just a kid so you don't understand how it works.
All that you know for certain is that it takes for-frickin-ever for your Parents to drive you somewhere fun like the Beach, but only minutes to get to the Dentist.


Your first vehicle is a little, red, wagon BUT you can't wait to get a tricycle.

Then you get a tricycle and you need a bicycle.

When you finally get your two wheeler you wonder if the training wheels and pedal blocks will ever come off. When the training wheels get tossed you are old enough to realise that this is it until you get a car.

Kids can't wait to drive a car and recklessly wish-away their youth until the day of reckoning arrives and they finally get behind the wheel.
Finally, You're 16, you get your License, and you head out on the highway lookin' for adventure with a...

FULL TANK OF GAS!

Your body is jacked with hornymones and you want to pass everybody because you're invincible. You blast your stereo with music that you don't even like just to annoy old people.

Even if you are not a member of the 'lucky sperm club' and your Daddy didn't hand you a Lamborghini on your birthday it doesn't f*cking matter if you are driving a beater.
You are totally happening.

When you're cruisin' with a full tank of gas, one hand on the wheel, your eyeballs glued to your cool reflection in the rear view mirror, and your ears bleeding from the 36" woofers mounted in your dashboard, it's all good.


THREE QUARTERS FULL
Pre-Owned Van.

You're late and you're on your way to drop off-wait for and drive home your kids from the maternity ward, nursery, kindergarten, school, soccer, hockey, dance, baseball, emergency ward, birthdays, church, vacations, volleyball, emergency ward, piano, voice, dance, rehearsals, recitals, birthdays, sleepovers. ((gasp))
This goes on for years and you don't even notice that the tank is now...



HALF FULL/HALF EMPTY
New/Newish Van.

You're late and you're on your way to drop off -pick up your kids from junior high, detention?, dance lessons, school, dance lessons, malls, movies, dance lessons, high school, parties, malls, part time jobs, dance lessons, boyfriend's house, malls, girlfriend's house, parties, dance, new boyfriend's house, parties, dance, new girlfriend's house, new boyfriend's pool party, dance, ex's cottage, grad parties, 2 am closing time at some totally awesome club somewhere at the other end of town where they had the best time ever, emergency ward, grads, university, dance lessons, airport, socials, wedding rehearsals, weddings...weddings?!


QUARTER OF A TANK

Where did all of that gas go? Hey wouldn't it be cool to have a red convertible and a MR.T Starter Kit (gold chains) to go with your new hair plugs!

You should slow down a bit because you are runnin' out of gas...nah! You've still got a little in the tank WOOHOO! Vvvvvrrrooo..cough..cough..oooommmm!



WARNING LIGHT FLASHING EMPTY
Giant Land Yacht

You are senile as hell but the authorities will not suspend you because the Government needs the money. You still drive to the Mall every day at 10:30 and again at 2:30. Your inner conversation is something like this...

Holy Dinah that looks like a good parking spot..
no that one...
darn it anyway where is that left turn signal thingy..oh yeah!..
oooh how 'bout this spot...
cripes too small...
((scraaaape Crunch))
What the hell was that...
holy toledo will you look over there..
HEY THAT WAS MY SPOT YOU SONOF A...
Oh Dear better roll up the window
Now where did I put my carkeys
OH there they are in the ignition silly goose...
what the hell does this button do...
((BANG))
Hey it's my lucky day look over there...
it's perfect!..
nope, too damn far from the bloody entrance SON OF A...
Dammit I'll just have to go around again....


EMPTY

You get a battery operated vehicle for about a week until you failed to notice and struck down the 800 pound Apartment Superintendent wearing a fluorescent red moo-moo who was vacuuming the hallway and your hand cramped up at full throttle.

Once again you are back to draggin' a wagon and every day at 10:30 and again at 2:30 you make your way to the Drugstore so that you can natter incessantly at the gum-chomping teenagers who smile and ignore you as they natter incessantly on their cellphones at the checkout line.

In rushes a harried young parent trying to run some errands with three screaming kids in tow and you suddenly realise that you shouldn't have to walk anywhere for the rest of your life because SOMEBODY owes you a few thousand rides.

WHO’S YOUR DADDY?
Why we screw UP.

According to some estimates, 10-30% of children don't have a single atom of their Daddy's DNA!

Now I have rambled on at length about how the cervix dips down into the vagina during orgasm to retrieve as much sperm as possible. But here is why that is important. This evolutionary development enabled females to increase the chance of harvesting more desirable genes from someone other than the big, hairy, brute, that they might be 'stuck with'. Har Har.

Eons ago, a secret mid-afternoon tryst with the cute-smart-funny-caveguy from across the valley, allowed females to secretly produce more cute-smart-funny guy/gal offspring. These offspring will be more desirable to future suitors and will therefore give her gene pool a better chance of continuing.

Since the big, hairy, brute, has no clue when she was fertile or if she was ‘faking it’, he can be duped into secretly raising somebody else’s child. Nature’s remedy is to make most of the male’s deposit contain killer and blocker sperm to destroy smart-cute-funny guy sperm that may have made it’s way into the love canal.

Another trick is to make females tell their mates that their newborn looks just like her Daddy.

This sneaky scenario can be summed up by the 80/5 rule.

Evolutionary Psychologists estimate that 80% of women are only interested in reproducing with 5% of men. Now those are bad odds. What this all means, is that 50% of women of settling for good enough genes, because 10-30% are double dipping. OK think about that for a second.

On the other hand, would it be realistic to imagine, under the right circumstances ie; not getting caught, that 80% of men would voluntarily copulate with all but 5% of women? Hmmm.

Now to be fair, there are those diehard romantics who believe that the Clitoral development evolved to strengthen pair bonding. This adaptation was necessary to ensure that the pre-scheduled Wednesday Evening and Sunday Afternoon couplings atleast had a chance of being more enjoyable. This biweekly rendezvous would therefore have the potential to be mutually enjoyable and hopefully aid in preserving a monogamous relationship.

That being said, when one takes a casual glance at almost any Women’s Magazines or Website it becomes painfully self evident that most men seem to know more about the Ford Taurus than the Clitoris. Apparently most men are still fumbling around in the dark. It’s all rather hit or miss. Far too many men seem to think that the Clitoris is a type of flower or an ancient Roman Emperor.

Clitoris Maximus

Men have probably been jealous for millennia because female humans are the only gender that have an organ that is designed exclusively for sexual pleasure. This marvelous feature reminds us that all vertebrates are initially formed as females and therefore men are mutants yada-yada-yada.

Hear me ROAR!

This does make men's plumbing seem more primitive, like monotremes (single entry/exit-coming/going organisms) since their orgasm organ has a dual purpose…I guess ditremes would be more accurate.

Now before anyone else says it, yes the BRAIN is the single most important sex organ, but that totally ruins my thesis. Either way it does explain why there is so much friction in human relationships, and not the right kind of friction.

In conclusion, we can now postulate from the evidence that most heterosexuals desire pairbonding but Nature keeps our backdoor/options open. Homo Sapeons have developed quite an arsenal of remedies to combat the tricks of the opposite gender. We still keep trying to pretend that we are hopeless romantics even though we evolved by being sneaky little rascals.

This is why we screw up our relationships when we screw-up.

KNOW THYSELF

Nando Pelusi agrees with me that we are out of our league living in the modern world with a stone-age brain. Pelusi is a clinical pychologist who wrote an article for Psychology Today about our inability to deal with overchoice.

“Our ancestors would be overwhelmed by our selection-saturated world, this orgy of options. We evolved in a world where choice was limited by chronic shortages of food, absence of transportation other than one’s own feet, and few reliable sources of information.”

“Either you ate, found a mate, or you went without. In such a world our ancestors could afford to simplify decision making to always get the best.”

“When scarcity circumscribed choice, there was no reason to blame yourself for a poor outcome. We evolved to survive and reproduce, not to experience what Alexander Herzen called “the summer lightning of personal happiness”.”

Well guess what Pelusi and Herzen. I am all about having the Summer Lightning of Happiness. So we have to limit our choices and say NO to ourselves once in a while. I can live with that.

What I cannot endure is our mindnumbingly slow progress as a species. HELLO! After 400 enlightening years of struggling through a hardfought War of Inches, we finally have an incredibly accurate idea of who and what we are, how we got here, and why we act the way we do!

Overchoice schmoverchoice. What is the point of accumulating all of this info if we don't do anything with it.

Oh sure the overchoice that we experience everyday, both real and imagined, is a huge source of stress. We still lug around a brain that was designed to operate in the bosom of our clan. Sure we had lowered expectations but we knew what was demanded of ourselves and so did everybody else around us. We just didn't know WHY!

There were daily, weekly, monthly and seasonal routines to follow. Aside from unexpected invasions from viruses, other clans, wild animals, and Mother Nature, we had a rhythm.

We lost that soon thereafter when Priests and Politicians enslaved us for thousands of years. Guess what. Been there, Done that, Bought the T-Shirt!

Next Wave please!

You could certainly say that we are indeed suffering from the tsunamic events that Alvin_Toffler spoke of in Future_Shock . What gets me is that we have known about this for decades. SO!

Now we homo escapeons need to assemble the pages of our book in proper order. Instead of being overwhelmed by overchoice let us learn something from the past for a frickin' change.

The truth is out there and it can and will set us free...

well most of us...

alright maybe some of us..

OK dammit a few of us.

After Millenia of bumbling about in the dark, now we really need to say No to thyself, manage our overchoice, deal with the self inflicted stress, and get to KNOW thyself !

In the end, knowing who you are, really is the only show in town.

How well do you know thyself

and

how often do you say no to thyself?