In three acts, for Mundane Monday.
Roll does make me think of “rolling on a river” from “Proud Mary,” a song I love. But I also think of rolls, like the kind you eat warm with butter, not that I do much of that. I hardly eat any bread these days, just some boringly healthy whole wheat for the occasional snadwich, not that I’m doing paleo gawd no, but I try to avoid it because eh. Bread. So high in cals & carbs. I love the group Bread though… didn’t I mention that already recently? Those songs break my heart. “If the world should stop revolving…” Kills me. Dead. And there was that line in Young Frankenstein about rolling in the hay, which was hilarious… and I said I was going to rewatch YF at Halloween but I didn’t. I just haven’t been into movies lately. I do want to see Bohemian Rhapsody though. And Mary Poppins. I thought I might talk about role play, but it would just be talk, IYKWIMAITYD.
Yeah, I didn’t do troll and droll and proletariat. Whatever dudes. I’m tired. 😜
Fandango tagged me in this fun game, and I am almost at my NaNo goal of 25K, so I’m relaxing a bit.
Here are the rules:
There is no deadline for participating in the game, which makes it perfect for everyone.
Truth is a tricky thing. We discussed it a lot in philosophy (my phone wants me to put Philadelphia). We spent a long time on the sentence “Katie is waiting for Santa Claus.”
There are things that are true, things that are correct, and things that are real. Are they always all the same things? Hmm.
But I don’t have to ponder any of that now. All that’s required of me is to plop a couple quotes here and then tag peeps.
“When truth is replaced by silence, the silence is a lie.” — Yevgeny Yevtushenko
(And silence favors the oppressor.)
“The opposite of a correct statement is a false statement. But the opposite of a profound truth may well be another profound truth.” — Niels Bohr
(See? Truth is tricky. Told yas!)
Done and dusted!
You may have read that the NRA recently admonished doctors to “stay in your lane” when they decided docs shouldn’t be talking about gun control. Then a whole bunch of doctors tweeted “this is my lane” regarding bullet holes in their patients. They gave a well-deserved takedown to those arrogant bullies at the NRA who believe no one has the right to disagree with them.
There was a time when I agreed with the idea that people should, in public, stick with their field of expertise. I disliked it when actors and other entertainers gave their political opinions publicly. When I watched an award show, I didn’t want to hear political diatribes. When I listened to a speech from the Prez, I didn’t want him going off the rails to rant about his pet peeves.
Topics had their places and you could call them lanes. Celeb gossip was for tabloid mags, not the nightly news. Crazy grandpas made holidays miserable for their own families only. Religious loons preached to their choirs. Now it’s all mixed together like a toxic soup. Scholarly, researched articles are accessible on the internet same as wackadoo ramblings about aliens popping out of volcanoes. So, where are the lanes?
There aren’t any. The lanes have been erased. Now anyone gets to jabber on about anything at anytime, in all our faces. It’s up to the listeners to sort out the wheat from the chaff and decide what’s good info, what should be addressed in debate, and what to switch off altogether because it’s not even worth our attention.
Unfortunately, I am finding the “real news” to be extremely tabloid-like lately, at least online (I don’t watch TV news). Suddenly Monica Lewinsky is opining about Bill again. Why? Who cares? Michelle Obama “wrote” a book and her feelings keep popping up. They aren’t news. Neither are the doings of the royals across the pond every damn day. Charles is 70! Why do I need to know that?
Talk about drifting out of your lane! I swear, half the “journalists” aren’t even on the freeway any longer. 😡
Interesting stream of consciousness Saturday prompt: we open a book and the first thing we point to is what we write about. I’ve got Soul Food by Jack Kornfield & Christina Feldman right here, don’t even know why, can’t remember buying it, but I’m opening it up right now… page 144…
“We have not yet plumbed the depths and possibilities of our own awareness.”
How true this is. We’re just a bunch of blind bats flying into the cave walls and crashing down to die in a mountain of bat poop. Those few moments between birth and death, when we’re fluttering madly, before we bash our bat brains out, is when we think we’ve accomplished something, lol. Look at me! I’m doing so much better than those other bats! (Smash.)
I suppose this book is going to tell me how I can become aware of something or other before I hit the wall and die, disintegrating into bat goo indistinguishable from every other bat that was ever born, which is why I spent [can’t find price tag] on it. Maybe it was a gift. Thanks, whoever bought me woo woo self-help actualization type book. I love these things. 🙄
Hard to believe I bought it, but I guess I might have occasional moments of trying to connect with muh spirituality. Such as it is. Okay then. That’s all I can do here. Should have opened the art cat book. 🐱