Images of Language and Incongruity Floating In My Head While Moaning and Groaning About WordPress

This is gonna be short. 

  • And that’s because – Fucking WordPress!!!  What is wrong with you guys. New version is just dandy when it grants you a visit otherwise you’re back doing the old shit again, typing each tag without spellcheck – OMG!  What a chore…

And now you’ve fucked up the most important page!  The super duper versions paper, which we compose on, and you’ve totally destroyed the basic formatting, where you have no idea how many times you have to hit return before you get that extra space you want in there, between paragraphs!
So, as demonstrated above, I can easily use bullet formatting or numeric, but I am no longer able to slide into paragraphs, and it is so fucking annoying!

What kind of Brains are developing these, these – I don’t even know what to call them!
(Personally I think they’re all missing a few screws.)

All very nice, of course, affable, but totally daffy when it comes to basic organizational thinking and, and what? Visualization system is inoperable?

URGENT:  

The Eyes of an Aesthete Wanted

On the other hand, if this is an example of how someone who may have Schizophrenia, for example, works, well, that’s another subject altogether. 

But why do we still need two versions of the Statistics?  Neither is much improved. So make a decision

Throw one in the trash, already!
Seeing the actual word italicized, however, is a whole lot better than than seeing words buried under HTML script. 

So that is an improvement. 
Congratulations, WordPress!

Bravo.
(Sorry. 

That just wouldn’t stay in any longer.)

Ever since I did the update, I’ve been wanting to put this down on paper, but something else always managed to shove it below the pile, where it finally said …
No more of this!
I will no longer be a wallflower!

                     THE END

Advertisements

Mother’s Day Music: 2015

Too lazy to deal with pecking today, so I used pen and paper instead.

IMG_2699.JPG

DSM, guys! I’ve Discovered a NEW Disorder. Listen up.

This is an Affective Disorder of the highest order:

Projecting the Opposite of How You Feel

EXAMPLE

You’ve been catching up with your sleep (busy, tired) and you feel rested.

However, people tell you, you look tired.

Conversely …

When you’ve been getting less than enough sleep, and you feel and actually are tired, people tell you, you look rested.

I would imagine DSM V would put this as part of their next update in the Personality Disorder column.

So which one matters?

Where is my FUCKING pen!!! (Mini-crisis) And more definitions of LOVE.

I’m still building this one.
So far, it looks like this.

IMG_2676.JPG

The Transformations of Thom Yorke

The voice is unmistakeable. But the face changes like a chameleon. Depends on when you first saw him, what he looked like then. When I looked, I realized the other pictures (the majority of them) were radically different from how I remembered him.

Time passes.

But that voice keeps you coming back for more of those high and angelic notes. It almost doesn’t matter what he says … Vocal and musical peaks determine the constant drumbeat of hypnotic nuances that permeate the composition. The dude could probably sing, “No fucking way!” And it would sound sweet.

And he knows it.

I nabbed this picture of Yorke from the Net. This is how he looked when I first saw him:

THOM YORKE

IMG_2542.PNG

The Bipolarians

Could not remember, so I just asked a friend if I had told him about The Bipolarians.

I first discovered them living among us about a year ago. It was after a legal hearing for a Bipolarian. Three of us posed for a snapshot selfie, which is what I later used to introduce our world to The Bipolarians, by posting it on Facebook.

Their fathers are big on Education; theirs mothers, Art. This creates an unusual mix of chemicals. We’re not exactly sure what those chemicals are yet. But we sure would like to get our hands on the formula, wouldn’t we?

Then we can produce enhanced Bipolarians right here on Earth!

Wouldn’t that be exciting?

Anyway they are highly revered on their planet.

Unlike here.
Where the planet loves them. And Nature adores them for their spontaneity. –
But those from their own species do not.

Dylan in Baltimore (Part Two)

I couldn’t wait to get to the venue and people-watch. I knew this was going to be an interesting crowd.

It was past 7:30, and the show began at 8. The crowd outside was sparse but sufficient to draw a correlation between them and those who were already inside.

First of all, there were his peers who looked as one might have imagined they looked like: Men with silver pony tails, smokers, and punks – all wrapped into one – and extruded through the eyes of Time
They were truly a scary sight.

And then there were the women.

Those who may have been the Flower Children of that generation …
But who had sadly changed.

So that was the top tier.
Grandpas and Grandmas.

And then there were the ones (mostly men) who had actually lived lives Dylan’s own creative consciousness had manufactured earlier – when he was still a youth and a prophet. How sacrilege, someone might say. But this has nothing to do with religion – not that kind of stuff, but conditions we face as humans. Dark ones. Of the mind. Of the spirit. Of who and where are we in the grand scheme of Life. And what are the things we must face along the way? Which path to take? And those are the topics of prophets sometimes.

Must’ve been those Minnesota winters …