Wednesday, August 15, 2012


ah dotty is what i am.  been feeling like crap for the last couple of weeks and the doctor just offers nonsense about chronic fatigue syndrome and adrenal burn out.  the urges to whip the shit out of people for doing stupid things doesn't fit the clinical picture for either and i figure he is only a borderline crack-head that didn't finish at a decent med school.   anyhoo........i've got a congregation or two of baptists praying over it......askin' the Lord for a gentle reset of the threshold tolerances for stupid shit and dumbass muthafuckers who instigate stupid shit.  [baby jeebus knows that i know it was wrong to be so sorely tempted to slap a dumb cashier making inane convo and using "irregardless" in a non-ironic sense.....soooo wrong that the pimp-slappin' hand twitched and started to rise; fortunately my pimp-assistant wasn't there to dust my hand with my pimp-slap powder]   Deus meus, ex toto corde pænitet me ómnium meórum peccatórum, éaque detéstor, quia peccándo, non solum pœnas a te iuste statútas proméritus sum, sed præsértim quia offéndi te, summum bonum, ac dignum qui super ómnia diligáris. Ídeo fírmiter propóno, adiuvánte grátia tua, de cétero me non peccatúrum peccandíque occasiónes próximas fugitúrum. Amen.
hoping to re-establish a better frame of mind i sought out a "cozy" to read so i turn, per usual, to Mr. Alexander McCall Smith.  unfortunately, there is no new Isabel Dalhousie, or Mma Ramotswe adventures but i did find a book that he published as a serial in The Scotsman.  (collected in a book as 44 Scotland Street.  as usual, Mr McCall-Smith uses a character(in this series it appears to be a character named Domenica Macdonald) to present a few 'philosophical' observations and they're pretty good: 
"Our reaction to the beautiful occurs in the face of every single one of our intellectual pretnsions.  We may be very well aware that the call of beauty is a siren-call, but that doesn't stop it from arresting us, seizing us, rendering us helpless." This is her analysis provided to a flustered roommate to the completely self-absorbed and vain Bruce.  she also reminds the poor girl "...there is nothing more brittle than human beauty.  Encounter it.  Savour it, by all means.  Then, watch how it turns to dust."  ouch.   'tis true, but still, OUCH!  in various books i've noticed that the problem with beauty pops, often, seems inhibitory to character.  wondering if this observation is too cruel.  i've noticed that beauty often is hand-in-hand with a general laziness towards soul-work.  just an observation.  not like i'm making a STATEMENT.  (*ok, i is larfin' up my sleeve on this one*)  Christian charity does require me to acknowledge that not everyone is as gifted as i to have sufficient strength to be both beautiful and of fine character.  (*ok, now i've got a jaw ache from resisting a grin...which itself  is a lesson, i think*).
i lurv this song: