Brain Training

It is beginning to appear that The USA is not the number one leader of the planet.  We are fast becoming a Drum Majorette with out a marching band.

We say, ”How incredibly scientifically smart we have become in our discoveries.”

“What a terrific time we live in.”

NADA !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

We still have 1/4th of the entire population of the planet killing 1/4th of the population of the planet; no matter what year in history (Cain & Able until now).

We have all that information and yet the most used word searched out on our newly adopted Search Engines is SEX.  The runner-up word is PORN.  I call that The Twenty-first Century education spent on 5th grade minds residing in the head-bone of adult bodies.

The absolute smartest world wide group of scientist gathered around their computers to watch their creation crash on the surface of MARS.

Surprised does not contain the agony or the money.

Half of the scientist measured the distance to touchdown in Kilometers; half measured the distance in MILES.

“What we have here is a failure to communicate.” (CHL)

We are able to talk more and in more varied ways, but we still say less and less.

We humans are inhumane to our species and we call ourselves the top of the intelligentsia of the planet.

We are procreating more humans to feed and out growing the ability of the planet to feed the increase.

We watched amazed, world wide, around the globe in real time, viewing the Olympics synchronization of several thousand humans mainframe-wired at the ear.  We created the mainframe.  We created the robot.  We attached ourselves to the robot and became the robot’s robot.  We clapped with the crowd alone in our living rooms in real time and never calculated the irony of our loss.

Look for more to be written on The Robot Factor

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Remember What?

An aspiring writer with short term memory loss is not conducive to prolificity or getting published.  So I carry my little notebook around to record these fleeting (fleeing) thoughts before they fly away to that huge literary bone pile in Netherworld.  Write it DOWN. NOW!  Rarely do I obey the muse.  So the great American Novel will never come out my brain.

I lose my coffee.  I have learned to drink cold coffee and not give it a second thought.  I cannot do that of course because I cannot remember the first thought.

I also get up quickly thinking I must go take care of the thought I am in the process of having before I forget it and end up in some room and not know why I am there.

I know these are all jokes that are running steady on comedy shows and E-mail send-a-longs.  But I am living the joke and I walk a lot and never leave the house.

Swimming in circles in the neighbor’s phenomenal backyard pool is the solace that I needed and that hope that some sense of solidarity is in that marvelous water.  I count the laps and I remember that I am swimming in a circle, circle by circle.  Twenty full circle laps is an hour.  If I lose count, I am still swimming in the same pool.  My kitchen timer and the Episcopal Church hourly chimes keep me up to speed.

I look at people bold faced in the eyeball and cannot remember their name.  I want everyone to wear name tags, it worked in kindergarten; it will work now.  This is not funny.  I spend time, useless time on useless thought.  Easily distracted to the least passing whim causes me to forget what I was doing in the first place.

Example: turning on the stove to HIGH in-order to heat the soup quickly because I was hungry.  I was hungry when I turned the soup on.  I forgot I was hungry when I wondered about my painting in the art room which is clear across the house and out of nose range.  The soup had become a rock in the pot.  I had to throw the Revere Ware pot away and still was not hungry.  I received that pot when I was 19 years old for a wedding gift.  I remember what I had on when I unwrapped it.  I burned soup in that pot back then because I was a bride.  That was an okay excuse.  The excuses I have now do not pass.

I love to watch the sun go down in Texas.  The sky will put an artist’s well thought out pallet to shame.  I know all those colors by heart and expertly mix them time and time again.  Some things seem to have made a large enough furrow in my brain to still be accessible.

The sun stays in the sky.  I stay on the glider.  I know why I am there.  The sun is not distracted by itself or me.  It is constant, like the church chimes.  I regroup myself in front of the face of the sun.  I start over.  I say tomorrow will be different.

But it won’t be, will it.    

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Please Pass The Chlorine

The story goes that baby carrots are not really baby carrots at all: Rather they are shaved to cocktail size in order to utilize the culls and below grade carrots.  The name cocktail baby carrots dipped in chlorine for additional shelf life and packaged in a neat square sealed flex-plastic bag for ease in manufacturer’s shipping and consumer’s purchasing is an ingenious marketing strategy.

What happens to all the shavings?  You probably purchase those shavings also washed in additional chlorine and neatly bagged in slaw teamed up with shaved ugly duckling below grade cabbage heads.  Or you might find the chlorine dipped carrot shavings in the American Garden Green Salad.

Let us look past this quick dip in chlorine into the rest of the story.

Formaldehyde is gassed into the bags of pre-tossed salad for preservation freshness and tight bags without wrinkles.  Undertakers now say that we are mostly already embalmed before they get us, making it easier and less costly for the process.  This is possibly the reason that Americans are looking younger at 60 than two generations ago looked at 40.  We spend so much money on super expensive wrinkle cream when we could just inhale the freshly opened salad bag once or twice a week getting the same results one hell of a lot cheaper.

Now I look past food for a moment and enter the world of health and fitness.  I swim one hour a day in a spotless backyard pool;  treated every day with chlorine and shocked once a week by a professional.  I swim under UV Rays rich in Vitamin D. All of this done under an October Texas Sun which we are told is dimming over an Ozone hole that is enlarging.  This pool and its pool atmospheric conditions is said to be safer and far less expensive than your local LA Fitness or hospital physical therapy pool.   Chlorine is chlorine; be it in the pool or on the carrots or in the salad.

So please let me swim in chlorine and pass the low-grad D shaved baby carrots dipped in chlorine.  Keep up the good work so as not to give me or my family intestinal disorders, contact herpes, hepatitis A-B–C or D, salmonella or renal failure.

We have options:  We can always boycott grocery stores and grow all our own food on the back deck of our retirement condos.  All of this activity hopefully taking place above smog level.  We will need fertilizer/dirt/lead glazed decorator Martha Pots and don’t forget a permit.

That brings me to fertilizer.  The largest world supplier of fertilizer is Cambodia according to PBS Jim Lehrer News Hour Stock Market Report.  You already know what is in their dirt:  Remember Cambodia was Vietnam’s morgue.  The words ‘all natural dirt’ will take on new meaning.

But it will grow the best corn you ever tasted: Remember that movie.

More Twisted Thoughts from Gaylee     

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