Johnny D. Symon
March of the hutheads
By Johnny D. Symon
(First Published December 5, 2005)
The Spanish Canary Islands were hit by a tropical storm last week. Trees were blown down, power lines cut, roads blocked. A freak of nature that forms yet another part of Planet Earth's storm history.
Throughout the Twentieth Century, and back even further through the Nineteenth, Eighteenth, and so on, concise meteorological records are available proving an age-old story of the powers of nature. But shortly after the storm spun itself northeast, and headed out into the Mediterranean, a European "Scientific Study" was published with the following helpful information:
Central Europe has experienced the highest temperature rise in 5000 years. In the past 100 years the temperature rose by 0.98º Centigrade (about 1.764º Fahrenheit).
But they failed to inform us how they could have known the exact temperature of Central Europe 5000 years ago! A Time Machine perhaps? They went on to explain that "by 2050 75% of Polar glaciers will be gone." Now ain't that scary? Well, I suppose if you're a penguin it might shake you up some; after all, only penguins and other ill-informed critters are stupid enough and able enough to live there. Would you? Well here are the real facts and they're stranger than fiction ...
Underneath the polar ice-caps lie huge expanses of land. Core samples have revealed evidence that they once were ice-free and subtropical. Plants have been found and we have conclusive proof. So, bearing this in mind, the latest "scientific" scare-mongering is actually good news, isn't it? And it's good news for the world's starving because once all of the ice disappears we'll be able to turn an erstwhile icy desert into a fruitful land.
Now, the doubting Thomases would scoff at this idea, saying, "When the ice-caps melt the sea level will rise and drown us out!" But these guys have either never read the Bible, or if they have they were too far gone to understand it. How many of you have, like me, scaled high mountains, and when you got to the top discovered sea shells lying around? Again, the doubting Thomases would say this was due to volcanic activity and plate movement that raised the seabed up, up, and away to become Fujiyama and the rest. But who of a right and sound mind believes a story like that, because a land-mass brought up through volcanic activity coats itself from lava that emanates from the center. So after several feet above sea level only new rock exists! And as for plate movement that occurred millions of years ago, who seriously believes that the ravages of mother nature pouring down on the highest mountains, over several million years, would not have washed away all trace of its undersea history?
The truth is indeed stranger than fiction, because my Book explains that even the highest mountains were at one time covered by flood waters. That's how sea creatures ended up there for me to look at 4111 years later!
The Bible also tells me that the polar ice-caps did not exist in the days of Adam, and not only that, but clouds and rain were a thing of the future too! So, if the ice-caps are melting and at the time of Noah's flood the waters rose "from the wells of the deep" above the highest mountain, I pose a question: "Where did all the waters go after the flood?" And the answer is ... "Back inside the earth!"
So why should the melting of Polar ice-caps make any appreciable difference to the sea level? After all we've already been assured by the whitecoats that in the past 100 years the sea level's risen by only one inch or so.
The truth is that for all the hype on global warming and the ozone layer, it's nothing but a sign of better things to come. Now, don't get me wrong, I've nothing against penguins, and anyhow if the Darwinists were correct surely the penguins would evolve to suit the new environment. I already have a picture in my mind of pingu's new look: the spittin' of Madeleine Albright. You'll be able to tell the difference, though, because the genuine article of new penguin will still have little wings, but both will retain their love of raw fish, fishing, and pitter-pattering around!
The theory of evolution and the theory of global warming are reserved for the gullible, by the gullible. They're all "hutheads" because that's where they want to go, back to grass huts, and reverse the progress of mankind. I've lost count of how many movies I've watched depicting a future with man ruined and living as savages.
Well, some of us think differently, and know differently. We get out of our beds each and every morning with these thoughts in mind: work, progress, and the brave new world. Let's not forget that this mindset made America what it is today, the most powerful nation on earth. America was built with hardworking, hard-thinking, pedigree pioneers. The hutheads appeared later on, feeding off America's progress like a boil on the butt.
Those hutheads hold one thing in common, and that's collective stupidity, together with the ability to be the world's greatest failures. But they are aware that the world takes pity on the mentally deficient and provides a warm bed and three square meals that you and I have to provide for ourselves. They're schemers — 57 varieties of parasite.
Okay, I lied. It's not one thing in common they all share; they also share a condition called atheism. Some of them would deny this, and I should know because several have denied it to my face. But only an atheist believes that the world and its resources are in great danger. They have deluded themselves into believing that since there's no God, only mankind can keep the world spinning. They forget that the world has been spinning and spinning, and things in it have been living and living for a very, very long time indeed, and the human race has no logical reason to take credit for it. All of this took place without our control, and will continue to do so during the gradual reappearance of the great land masses of the North and South Poles, and the subsequent invasion of eager settlers wishing to take an active part in the future of this brave new world. Nations will form and eager-beaver oil companies will strike the big one and stop the mouths of the hutheads and their "world is running out of fossil fuels" lie. Then once the land becomes diggable, the hutheads will find that their "world shortage of food" lie will become even more untenable.
*****
Closer to home, last week I managed to read A M Siriano's The Final Lesson of the "Inspirator."
As usual A.M. deftly laid out the facts and gave his view on the matter — a view I hold also. He received a great deal of hate mail for supporting the rule of law and the court's verdict. He was well within the confines of "the right to speak freely," which just happens to be a prerequisite for every American under the Constitution. However, the law is only the law to non-hutheads. Hutheads believe that they're a law unto themselves, which led to several hutheaded lawyers writing strong letters to A.M.
It would appear that our legal system nowadays has transformed itself into a perfect copy of Tweedledum and Tweedledee and the due process of law has taken a novel new route. In the good old days a judge and jury would decide the innocence or the guilt of the accused. If guilty, the accused paid the price under the law, but nowadays a convicted murderer can continue to plead innocence for twenty years or more at the taxpayers' expense and expect lawyers, who should know the law, to disregard it and the court's judgment, and also disregard someone's right to speak out at what he believes to be an injustice.
Those of us with sound minds already know that the law has become an ass. We know that justice is fickle and heavily influenced by hutheaded atheists. They believe that no one has the right to take a human life — except murderers. They claim to believe that "life is precious," and so it is, but there's a strange twist to their atheistic "logic," and here it is:
If they don't believe in God and life after death, human life should be to them even more precious than to us, for after all, if you only get one shot on this planet, it's a real tragedy if someone takes yours away and sends you to oblivion, right? Well, if it is right, murderers would be regarded by atheists as the lowest of the low. So why do the hutheads insist on a murderers clemency, thus disregarding the rule of law? And why are they so quick to attack others who hold a view that's in line with the law, but contrary to their own? And the answer is ... To them life is only expendable if you're one of the innocents. If you're guilty you have to live on, and possibly kill on, until you're too old to murder.
So, due to last week's attack by huthead lawyers, I'm going to surprise you all by recommending that we pander to their wishes! I propose another amendment to the Constitution that abolishes the right to free speech, but with one clause: Hutheads retain the privilege. They can rant on anywhere they like, on any subject and they're free and easy under the law. But right-minded people like us will have to remain silent, otherwise we go to jail. Now, do you think that would make the hutheads happy? Sure it would, and I'd be happy too. I'd have to change my freedom of expression to something else, so it might as well be dancing and singing! With this I'm safe under the law and boy, would I make a job of it.
I'd jump, skip, and spin around everywhere I'd go, replete with a ghetto blaster fit for the job. From those speakers would come songs by Billy Joe Shaver, Charlie Daniels and even Rammstein, for goodness sake. And with all this I'd be yelpin' and clappin', looking crazy as a loon! Hell, I'd even learn the tango and prance around in public chewin' a rose, because it wouldn't be the singin', the dancin', the music and the foolishness that was making me happy, it would be the knowledge that is part of the foundation of T'ai Chi, and that is you utilize the force of your opponent to his disadvantage: his force becomes his downfall!
Tookie may live to enjoy his Nobhell Peace Prize, and if so, will that qualify Saddam Hussein for one, too? You bet! So with my Constitutional Amendment the hutheads right to free speech will be their downfall. They'll talk and talk, and I'll sing and dance, while others figure it is time to adopt alternative pursuits, as I did — but their pursuits will be a little different, as the hutheads will discover to their cost, because Tookie may live, contrary to the law, but they won't. The people will decide the fate of traitors and lawbreakers, because the lawmakers have sold out to Satan, and bowed the knee to Baal ... That's why I'll be smilin', dancin', and singin' to my heart's content!
*****
On a more personal note ... I had a dream last Wednesday night that, as dreams go, really can't be beat. And before I tell you all about it I'll have to go back two weeks or so and furnish the background. As I mentioned last week, I arrived home on the Monday after a long and arduous journey. I'd been away quite some time and was looking forward to some rest and relaxation. But my wife persuaded me to join her in Gibraltar on Wednesday morning, as she had a little business to attend to, at a world-famous American card company's shop (the big H).
The appointment was for midday, but when she arrived the place was in darkness with the security shutters locked. We looked for a notice, but there wasn't one. I said, "You hang around here, and I'll deal with something a few streets down — should be twenty minutes or so." But when I got back the place was still locked up, and the lady manager was on her way.
It turns out that they had replaced the old U-shaped shutter lock the previous night, and when they came to work in the morning the keys wouldn't turn in the lock. They'd called in a locksmith, then a policeman — both tried the lock and said, "Nothing we can do!" That's when I offered to cut cleanly through the two shutter bars that close on each other, and have the lock slip through the gap. I figured a hacksaw could be borrowed at CIAP (a plumbing supplies company) in Irish Town, across MacKintosh Square, and sure enough this fine company obliged.
From the time my blade hit those bars it was just two or three minutes before "business as usual," and by the time I'd finished quite a crowd of onlookers and would-be customers had gathered, and they all cheered and burst into applause. But I think CIAP deserves recognition for this. It's a great company, and well worth a visit should you ever come to the Rock.
It's a rare thing for me to visit Gibraltar these days, and I have noted from past visits that three days or so later I had caught a bug. I learned to blame it on the "levanter" (an easterly wind that hits the top of the Rock and meets with another current headed in the opposite direction, the result being a cap of cloud that holds dirty air from traffic and industry). So this time again, two weeks back, I caught a stomach bug. The thing caused my stomach to pop and gurgle, and gave me the shoots. But I hung on and kept goin'!
I drank lots of my yerba maté and popped down loads of vitamins, which seemed to do the trick. But I was still left with a wooly head. Then on Wednesday night last week I skipped the maté and made a big jug of rooibos tea (Aspalathus linearis) made from the leaves of this South African shrub. As I made my way through drinking this excellent tea I kept busy by reformatting and segmenting my Powerbooks hard disc. By the time I'd completed both the tea and the notebook upgrade, my wooly head teamed up with wooly eyes and it was time for bed. Then came the dream that I described earlier as "can't be beat" and I swear to God it's all true:
I received notification from the mail office that a package was waiting for me, so I headed off and collected it. The sender's name and address could be clearly read and it was none other than the guy at Siriano Central! So I set about opening the box and here's what I found:
Inside were two packages. One was in the shape of a hat stand. When I opened it I discovered that it was nothing less than a big stuffed cobra, its tail coiled in a circle that served as a stand, and the thing appeared to be ready to strike.
In the second package I found a notebook computer in garish colors. When I opened the lid I was surprised to discover that the entire keyboard was sprouting sharp nails, each one an inch long. The mouse was no different. It looked like an exact replica of a European hedgehog covered in nails. Its snout served as the scroll button and both eyes, left and right click.
I was so fascinated by it all, I couldn't wait to boot the thing up. When it finally loaded, the desktop looked like a Dali landscape, a marble floor stretching out to infinity. Above was an early evening sky. There appeared, center screen, a cross-legged guru wearing a turban and floating three or four feet above the floor. The only other object to be seen was a tree ten or twelve feet behind him and to his left.
I started typing, trying to avoid the nails, and finally big 3-D letters appeared stage left and travelled across the screen. It looked at first glance like the Punjabi language, then I realized it was made to look that way, but was in fact English. As I continued to type the little guru looked like he was trying to conduct the words by waving his arm and pointing to every new letter that appeared. Every once in a while his head would start swaying at the neck, turn to the side, and utter a silly sounding song.
Again, every once in a while, the little jerk would unfold his legs, touch ground, and head off to the back of the tree to relieve himself. He would disappear behind the trunk, but every so often his head would look around from the side and nod. A little puddle would appear and grow bigger, then he'd return singing his funny stuff, and up would go his legs again, and he'd resume his Punjabi conducting session.
When I woke up the next morning I conveyed the dream to my wife and it rendered her helpless! Both of us laughed ourselves hoarse for it was the most ridiculous dream I had ever experienced.
I tried to figure out the dream's origins throughout that day and all I could come up with was the stomach bug, the rooibos tea, my powerbook jaunt the previous night, and finally the guru. On my big system about a year and a half back I had installed an excellent chess program called "Big Bang Chess," and it's an award winner. You can play one of two opponents or get on the web and play someone else, but the two characters are cross-legged and float in midair. But I'm sure there has to be a deeper message behind my crazy dream, and if I ever discover it you'll be the first to know ...
Have a great week, folks! Johnny D
© Johnny D. Symon
(First Published December 5, 2005)
The Spanish Canary Islands were hit by a tropical storm last week. Trees were blown down, power lines cut, roads blocked. A freak of nature that forms yet another part of Planet Earth's storm history.
Throughout the Twentieth Century, and back even further through the Nineteenth, Eighteenth, and so on, concise meteorological records are available proving an age-old story of the powers of nature. But shortly after the storm spun itself northeast, and headed out into the Mediterranean, a European "Scientific Study" was published with the following helpful information:
Central Europe has experienced the highest temperature rise in 5000 years. In the past 100 years the temperature rose by 0.98º Centigrade (about 1.764º Fahrenheit).
But they failed to inform us how they could have known the exact temperature of Central Europe 5000 years ago! A Time Machine perhaps? They went on to explain that "by 2050 75% of Polar glaciers will be gone." Now ain't that scary? Well, I suppose if you're a penguin it might shake you up some; after all, only penguins and other ill-informed critters are stupid enough and able enough to live there. Would you? Well here are the real facts and they're stranger than fiction ...
Underneath the polar ice-caps lie huge expanses of land. Core samples have revealed evidence that they once were ice-free and subtropical. Plants have been found and we have conclusive proof. So, bearing this in mind, the latest "scientific" scare-mongering is actually good news, isn't it? And it's good news for the world's starving because once all of the ice disappears we'll be able to turn an erstwhile icy desert into a fruitful land.
Now, the doubting Thomases would scoff at this idea, saying, "When the ice-caps melt the sea level will rise and drown us out!" But these guys have either never read the Bible, or if they have they were too far gone to understand it. How many of you have, like me, scaled high mountains, and when you got to the top discovered sea shells lying around? Again, the doubting Thomases would say this was due to volcanic activity and plate movement that raised the seabed up, up, and away to become Fujiyama and the rest. But who of a right and sound mind believes a story like that, because a land-mass brought up through volcanic activity coats itself from lava that emanates from the center. So after several feet above sea level only new rock exists! And as for plate movement that occurred millions of years ago, who seriously believes that the ravages of mother nature pouring down on the highest mountains, over several million years, would not have washed away all trace of its undersea history?
The truth is indeed stranger than fiction, because my Book explains that even the highest mountains were at one time covered by flood waters. That's how sea creatures ended up there for me to look at 4111 years later!
The Bible also tells me that the polar ice-caps did not exist in the days of Adam, and not only that, but clouds and rain were a thing of the future too! So, if the ice-caps are melting and at the time of Noah's flood the waters rose "from the wells of the deep" above the highest mountain, I pose a question: "Where did all the waters go after the flood?" And the answer is ... "Back inside the earth!"
So why should the melting of Polar ice-caps make any appreciable difference to the sea level? After all we've already been assured by the whitecoats that in the past 100 years the sea level's risen by only one inch or so.
The truth is that for all the hype on global warming and the ozone layer, it's nothing but a sign of better things to come. Now, don't get me wrong, I've nothing against penguins, and anyhow if the Darwinists were correct surely the penguins would evolve to suit the new environment. I already have a picture in my mind of pingu's new look: the spittin' of Madeleine Albright. You'll be able to tell the difference, though, because the genuine article of new penguin will still have little wings, but both will retain their love of raw fish, fishing, and pitter-pattering around!The theory of evolution and the theory of global warming are reserved for the gullible, by the gullible. They're all "hutheads" because that's where they want to go, back to grass huts, and reverse the progress of mankind. I've lost count of how many movies I've watched depicting a future with man ruined and living as savages.
Well, some of us think differently, and know differently. We get out of our beds each and every morning with these thoughts in mind: work, progress, and the brave new world. Let's not forget that this mindset made America what it is today, the most powerful nation on earth. America was built with hardworking, hard-thinking, pedigree pioneers. The hutheads appeared later on, feeding off America's progress like a boil on the butt.
Those hutheads hold one thing in common, and that's collective stupidity, together with the ability to be the world's greatest failures. But they are aware that the world takes pity on the mentally deficient and provides a warm bed and three square meals that you and I have to provide for ourselves. They're schemers — 57 varieties of parasite.
Okay, I lied. It's not one thing in common they all share; they also share a condition called atheism. Some of them would deny this, and I should know because several have denied it to my face. But only an atheist believes that the world and its resources are in great danger. They have deluded themselves into believing that since there's no God, only mankind can keep the world spinning. They forget that the world has been spinning and spinning, and things in it have been living and living for a very, very long time indeed, and the human race has no logical reason to take credit for it. All of this took place without our control, and will continue to do so during the gradual reappearance of the great land masses of the North and South Poles, and the subsequent invasion of eager settlers wishing to take an active part in the future of this brave new world. Nations will form and eager-beaver oil companies will strike the big one and stop the mouths of the hutheads and their "world is running out of fossil fuels" lie. Then once the land becomes diggable, the hutheads will find that their "world shortage of food" lie will become even more untenable.
*****
Closer to home, last week I managed to read A M Siriano's The Final Lesson of the "Inspirator."
As usual A.M. deftly laid out the facts and gave his view on the matter — a view I hold also. He received a great deal of hate mail for supporting the rule of law and the court's verdict. He was well within the confines of "the right to speak freely," which just happens to be a prerequisite for every American under the Constitution. However, the law is only the law to non-hutheads. Hutheads believe that they're a law unto themselves, which led to several hutheaded lawyers writing strong letters to A.M.
It would appear that our legal system nowadays has transformed itself into a perfect copy of Tweedledum and Tweedledee and the due process of law has taken a novel new route. In the good old days a judge and jury would decide the innocence or the guilt of the accused. If guilty, the accused paid the price under the law, but nowadays a convicted murderer can continue to plead innocence for twenty years or more at the taxpayers' expense and expect lawyers, who should know the law, to disregard it and the court's judgment, and also disregard someone's right to speak out at what he believes to be an injustice.
Those of us with sound minds already know that the law has become an ass. We know that justice is fickle and heavily influenced by hutheaded atheists. They believe that no one has the right to take a human life — except murderers. They claim to believe that "life is precious," and so it is, but there's a strange twist to their atheistic "logic," and here it is:
If they don't believe in God and life after death, human life should be to them even more precious than to us, for after all, if you only get one shot on this planet, it's a real tragedy if someone takes yours away and sends you to oblivion, right? Well, if it is right, murderers would be regarded by atheists as the lowest of the low. So why do the hutheads insist on a murderers clemency, thus disregarding the rule of law? And why are they so quick to attack others who hold a view that's in line with the law, but contrary to their own? And the answer is ... To them life is only expendable if you're one of the innocents. If you're guilty you have to live on, and possibly kill on, until you're too old to murder.
So, due to last week's attack by huthead lawyers, I'm going to surprise you all by recommending that we pander to their wishes! I propose another amendment to the Constitution that abolishes the right to free speech, but with one clause: Hutheads retain the privilege. They can rant on anywhere they like, on any subject and they're free and easy under the law. But right-minded people like us will have to remain silent, otherwise we go to jail. Now, do you think that would make the hutheads happy? Sure it would, and I'd be happy too. I'd have to change my freedom of expression to something else, so it might as well be dancing and singing! With this I'm safe under the law and boy, would I make a job of it.
I'd jump, skip, and spin around everywhere I'd go, replete with a ghetto blaster fit for the job. From those speakers would come songs by Billy Joe Shaver, Charlie Daniels and even Rammstein, for goodness sake. And with all this I'd be yelpin' and clappin', looking crazy as a loon! Hell, I'd even learn the tango and prance around in public chewin' a rose, because it wouldn't be the singin', the dancin', the music and the foolishness that was making me happy, it would be the knowledge that is part of the foundation of T'ai Chi, and that is you utilize the force of your opponent to his disadvantage: his force becomes his downfall!
Tookie may live to enjoy his Nobhell Peace Prize, and if so, will that qualify Saddam Hussein for one, too? You bet! So with my Constitutional Amendment the hutheads right to free speech will be their downfall. They'll talk and talk, and I'll sing and dance, while others figure it is time to adopt alternative pursuits, as I did — but their pursuits will be a little different, as the hutheads will discover to their cost, because Tookie may live, contrary to the law, but they won't. The people will decide the fate of traitors and lawbreakers, because the lawmakers have sold out to Satan, and bowed the knee to Baal ... That's why I'll be smilin', dancin', and singin' to my heart's content!
*****
On a more personal note ... I had a dream last Wednesday night that, as dreams go, really can't be beat. And before I tell you all about it I'll have to go back two weeks or so and furnish the background. As I mentioned last week, I arrived home on the Monday after a long and arduous journey. I'd been away quite some time and was looking forward to some rest and relaxation. But my wife persuaded me to join her in Gibraltar on Wednesday morning, as she had a little business to attend to, at a world-famous American card company's shop (the big H).
The appointment was for midday, but when she arrived the place was in darkness with the security shutters locked. We looked for a notice, but there wasn't one. I said, "You hang around here, and I'll deal with something a few streets down — should be twenty minutes or so." But when I got back the place was still locked up, and the lady manager was on her way.
It turns out that they had replaced the old U-shaped shutter lock the previous night, and when they came to work in the morning the keys wouldn't turn in the lock. They'd called in a locksmith, then a policeman — both tried the lock and said, "Nothing we can do!" That's when I offered to cut cleanly through the two shutter bars that close on each other, and have the lock slip through the gap. I figured a hacksaw could be borrowed at CIAP (a plumbing supplies company) in Irish Town, across MacKintosh Square, and sure enough this fine company obliged.
From the time my blade hit those bars it was just two or three minutes before "business as usual," and by the time I'd finished quite a crowd of onlookers and would-be customers had gathered, and they all cheered and burst into applause. But I think CIAP deserves recognition for this. It's a great company, and well worth a visit should you ever come to the Rock.
It's a rare thing for me to visit Gibraltar these days, and I have noted from past visits that three days or so later I had caught a bug. I learned to blame it on the "levanter" (an easterly wind that hits the top of the Rock and meets with another current headed in the opposite direction, the result being a cap of cloud that holds dirty air from traffic and industry). So this time again, two weeks back, I caught a stomach bug. The thing caused my stomach to pop and gurgle, and gave me the shoots. But I hung on and kept goin'!
I drank lots of my yerba maté and popped down loads of vitamins, which seemed to do the trick. But I was still left with a wooly head. Then on Wednesday night last week I skipped the maté and made a big jug of rooibos tea (Aspalathus linearis) made from the leaves of this South African shrub. As I made my way through drinking this excellent tea I kept busy by reformatting and segmenting my Powerbooks hard disc. By the time I'd completed both the tea and the notebook upgrade, my wooly head teamed up with wooly eyes and it was time for bed. Then came the dream that I described earlier as "can't be beat" and I swear to God it's all true:
I received notification from the mail office that a package was waiting for me, so I headed off and collected it. The sender's name and address could be clearly read and it was none other than the guy at Siriano Central! So I set about opening the box and here's what I found:
Inside were two packages. One was in the shape of a hat stand. When I opened it I discovered that it was nothing less than a big stuffed cobra, its tail coiled in a circle that served as a stand, and the thing appeared to be ready to strike.
In the second package I found a notebook computer in garish colors. When I opened the lid I was surprised to discover that the entire keyboard was sprouting sharp nails, each one an inch long. The mouse was no different. It looked like an exact replica of a European hedgehog covered in nails. Its snout served as the scroll button and both eyes, left and right click.
I was so fascinated by it all, I couldn't wait to boot the thing up. When it finally loaded, the desktop looked like a Dali landscape, a marble floor stretching out to infinity. Above was an early evening sky. There appeared, center screen, a cross-legged guru wearing a turban and floating three or four feet above the floor. The only other object to be seen was a tree ten or twelve feet behind him and to his left.
I started typing, trying to avoid the nails, and finally big 3-D letters appeared stage left and travelled across the screen. It looked at first glance like the Punjabi language, then I realized it was made to look that way, but was in fact English. As I continued to type the little guru looked like he was trying to conduct the words by waving his arm and pointing to every new letter that appeared. Every once in a while his head would start swaying at the neck, turn to the side, and utter a silly sounding song.
Again, every once in a while, the little jerk would unfold his legs, touch ground, and head off to the back of the tree to relieve himself. He would disappear behind the trunk, but every so often his head would look around from the side and nod. A little puddle would appear and grow bigger, then he'd return singing his funny stuff, and up would go his legs again, and he'd resume his Punjabi conducting session.
When I woke up the next morning I conveyed the dream to my wife and it rendered her helpless! Both of us laughed ourselves hoarse for it was the most ridiculous dream I had ever experienced.
I tried to figure out the dream's origins throughout that day and all I could come up with was the stomach bug, the rooibos tea, my powerbook jaunt the previous night, and finally the guru. On my big system about a year and a half back I had installed an excellent chess program called "Big Bang Chess," and it's an award winner. You can play one of two opponents or get on the web and play someone else, but the two characters are cross-legged and float in midair. But I'm sure there has to be a deeper message behind my crazy dream, and if I ever discover it you'll be the first to know ...
Have a great week, folks! Johnny D
© Johnny D. Symon
The views expressed by RenewAmerica columnists are their own and do not necessarily reflect the position of RenewAmerica or its affiliates.
(See RenewAmerica's publishing standards.)
