If only to get a percentage on all the predictions made today for 2016. The percentage isn't on whether they come true since most of them won't but rather a percentage on what it cost to run them.
While we would love to read the future forecast to discover whether Hillary Clinton will become more bad-mannered and matronly in the upcoming year, we have more prosaic concerns.
(Ed: what is more important than that for America?)
Well, that's a long list of things, cowboy, but there's only one here and that's whether the ganja lasts long enough to finish the "The Sanctuary Song."
(Ed: that's it? The only resolution you have is to finish the song?? That doesn't even count when you were already working on it!)
I guess you're probably not going to like my 2016 diet plan either.
(Ed: what diet plan is that?)
The plan is to eat stuff which does not suck. To that end, I ate a Big Mac today.
(Ed: like that doesn't suck!)
Yah, of course it sucks but that sets the benchmark. If I eat anything that bad again all year then I'm a complete gastronomic failure, a charlatan of a chef, an empiric of an epicure, and I will become a bloated beast like Donald Trump.
(Ed: is there any coherent plan for 2016 of any kind?)
I resolve to look at orangutans more, particularly when they have birthday parties.
(Ed: the orangutan's hairstyle reminds me of Bernie Sanders)
Yah, me too ... but I like a guy who has better things to do than jack with whether his hair is combed right.
Maybe we could proselytize for a cultural change in which unrealistic and unsatisfying definitions of lifestyle become more life-reinforcing rather than making us sixty to eighty hours per week slaves to relentless demands for increased productivity in things which are of little real value to the quality of life.
A few days ago Kannafoot was talking of how Americans do not want to give up this lifestyle but it's my experience a professional job will cost sixty-eight hours per week and the boss has to know you're knocking out the extra hours to level up in the game.
The objective in doing that is to get the "Architecture Today" McMansion which are those relatively-new eyesores which have popped all over the country. However, these things are not any more evolutionarily sophisticated than the mud huts of a thousand years ago and, in fact, are less so because the people in the mud huts were much more tightly integrated with their villages / tribes.
America may be worst of all in driving toward that insular type of existence and you can see from drug abuse, prescription overdoses, prescriptions for mood-altering drugs such as Prozac and others, gunner suicides, etc people aren't doing so well with it.
My brother-in-law was a degreed architect / sociologist and he worked with colleagues to design a village in, I believe, North Carolina which would preserve the insular aspect of homes but also make a much more integrated type of lifestyle. That sounds all New Age and airy fairy but it's working toward a fundamental tribal need in us.
We can feign all the sophistication we like but we still share 98% of our DNA with a chimpanzee so we're a whole lot more monkey than we ain't. This insatiable quest for the biggest McMansion or the most hideous monstrosity of a gas-guzzling behemoth such as a Hummer goes directly opposite millions of years of heritage. We can deny it all we like ... but we're still monkeys. We need our tribes.
(Ed: easy for you to say when you're smokin' the ganja all the time!)
People should have time to smoke the ganja if they like to smoke it. That killin' pressure for productivity is as if for wartime but, matey, I don' see no war.
And now to review my New Year's Resolution and watch Take 3 one more time. For the last chord, the Galaxy Guitar gets right up into the camera and I start popping off dive bombs while jacking the twang bar all over the place. Doing that made the stars on her twinkle like nothing ever did before and it's been an incredible bitch to try to film that. It finally worked and it was accidental since I didn't anticipate that would happen, I just thought it would look cool.
(Ed: can you come up with any real resolution at all. How about you resolve not to rob banks this year?)
Well, I can't rule out robbing a bank. If I could do it and get away with it then I would be on my way over there right now. It would be better to rob a gun store, tho. That's where there's the most money.
(Ed: can't you come up with something patriotic like you will save Texas from the Army and Operation Jade Helm?)
It's too late. Operation Jade Helm tested a secret weapon down here and that's amplified the effects of El Nino thus setting the stage for the swarm of tornadoes on the day after Christmas. Tornadoes never come at Christmas time but then there was Operation Jade Helm and its secret weapons testing. Now the tornadoes come. We rest our case on that one, Buddy Boy.
(Ed: so that's it for 2016, is it. Ganja and guitar?)
Ay-yup.
While we would love to read the future forecast to discover whether Hillary Clinton will become more bad-mannered and matronly in the upcoming year, we have more prosaic concerns.
(Ed: what is more important than that for America?)
Well, that's a long list of things, cowboy, but there's only one here and that's whether the ganja lasts long enough to finish the "The Sanctuary Song."
(Ed: that's it? The only resolution you have is to finish the song?? That doesn't even count when you were already working on it!)
I guess you're probably not going to like my 2016 diet plan either.
(Ed: what diet plan is that?)
The plan is to eat stuff which does not suck. To that end, I ate a Big Mac today.
(Ed: like that doesn't suck!)
Yah, of course it sucks but that sets the benchmark. If I eat anything that bad again all year then I'm a complete gastronomic failure, a charlatan of a chef, an empiric of an epicure, and I will become a bloated beast like Donald Trump.
(Ed: is there any coherent plan for 2016 of any kind?)
I resolve to look at orangutans more, particularly when they have birthday parties.
(Ed: the orangutan's hairstyle reminds me of Bernie Sanders)
Yah, me too ... but I like a guy who has better things to do than jack with whether his hair is combed right.
Maybe we could proselytize for a cultural change in which unrealistic and unsatisfying definitions of lifestyle become more life-reinforcing rather than making us sixty to eighty hours per week slaves to relentless demands for increased productivity in things which are of little real value to the quality of life.
A few days ago Kannafoot was talking of how Americans do not want to give up this lifestyle but it's my experience a professional job will cost sixty-eight hours per week and the boss has to know you're knocking out the extra hours to level up in the game.
The objective in doing that is to get the "Architecture Today" McMansion which are those relatively-new eyesores which have popped all over the country. However, these things are not any more evolutionarily sophisticated than the mud huts of a thousand years ago and, in fact, are less so because the people in the mud huts were much more tightly integrated with their villages / tribes.
America may be worst of all in driving toward that insular type of existence and you can see from drug abuse, prescription overdoses, prescriptions for mood-altering drugs such as Prozac and others, gunner suicides, etc people aren't doing so well with it.
My brother-in-law was a degreed architect / sociologist and he worked with colleagues to design a village in, I believe, North Carolina which would preserve the insular aspect of homes but also make a much more integrated type of lifestyle. That sounds all New Age and airy fairy but it's working toward a fundamental tribal need in us.
We can feign all the sophistication we like but we still share 98% of our DNA with a chimpanzee so we're a whole lot more monkey than we ain't. This insatiable quest for the biggest McMansion or the most hideous monstrosity of a gas-guzzling behemoth such as a Hummer goes directly opposite millions of years of heritage. We can deny it all we like ... but we're still monkeys. We need our tribes.
(Ed: easy for you to say when you're smokin' the ganja all the time!)
People should have time to smoke the ganja if they like to smoke it. That killin' pressure for productivity is as if for wartime but, matey, I don' see no war.
And now to review my New Year's Resolution and watch Take 3 one more time. For the last chord, the Galaxy Guitar gets right up into the camera and I start popping off dive bombs while jacking the twang bar all over the place. Doing that made the stars on her twinkle like nothing ever did before and it's been an incredible bitch to try to film that. It finally worked and it was accidental since I didn't anticipate that would happen, I just thought it would look cool.
(Ed: can you come up with any real resolution at all. How about you resolve not to rob banks this year?)
Well, I can't rule out robbing a bank. If I could do it and get away with it then I would be on my way over there right now. It would be better to rob a gun store, tho. That's where there's the most money.
(Ed: can't you come up with something patriotic like you will save Texas from the Army and Operation Jade Helm?)
It's too late. Operation Jade Helm tested a secret weapon down here and that's amplified the effects of El Nino thus setting the stage for the swarm of tornadoes on the day after Christmas. Tornadoes never come at Christmas time but then there was Operation Jade Helm and its secret weapons testing. Now the tornadoes come. We rest our case on that one, Buddy Boy.
(Ed: so that's it for 2016, is it. Ganja and guitar?)
Ay-yup.
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