Monthly Archives: May 2017

It’s not often that I find spam entertaining, but I thought I would share the first paragraph of one I just received.  It was “from” Mr. Laird Roberts and its subject was “Honestly I am just disappointed at your behavior.”  What a slap in the face!  It’s like you open the door, and there stands Moe, fuming.

Anyway, here is what I read, before I got bored and skimmed over the rest of the text:

“Honestly I am just disappointed at your behavior because you know that I am man of God and cannot deceive you.  Just pay the $85.00 and leave me and my God because God is watching me if I am telling you lies.  I know it is because of your past experience that make you not to believe me but I told you before my God who is my witness that I cannot deceive you because my bible says what shall it profit a man to gain material things and loose your soul.  I told you earlier just drop your old experience and follow my instruction as a man of God and you will know what it means to follow somebody that fear God.”

Pretty novel approach, I must say.  This spammer is not only incoherent (as one expects) but instantly sets off on a self-righteous tirade, dressing down the very person from whom he hopes to extract money.  Really, how many rich, gullible, masochistic, religiously-guilty suckers are out there?  I guess all of them will soon find out.

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At The Eye Clinic for Dogs - by CHCollins

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•  Most would agree that the beauty of a butterfly’s wings more than compensates for the defoliation caused by its offspring.  Donald Trump would have us think this works in the opposite direction as well — that having beautiful offspring somehow makes up for his own destructive behavior.

•  The spring flowerlets of scotch broom smell wonderful — our bumblebees love them.  The branches laden with their tiny cup-like flowers fall gracefully over our boulder wall.  And like most things special, their display lasts only a week or two.  Then, poof.  And our fickle bumblebees fly off to the next enticing fragrance.

•  I would like to see just one New York/Hollywood/Nashville female celebrity show up at an awards show or other similar gala wearing a burka.  What famous American woman would dare make such a bold non-fashion statement?

•  Not that I think burkas are a feminist statement — just the opposite.  But neither is designer celebrity-wear a feminist statement, but a beauty-entitled one.

•  Why does a Brandy Alexander taste delicious but the very thought of a Wine Alexander turn the stomach?   After all, brandy is simply distilled wine, right?  (For the uninitiated, the Brandy Alexander recipe calls for 1 oz brandy, 1 oz cream, and 1 oz crème de cacao.)  The thought of blending wine, cream and crème de cacao is, or should be, unthinkable.

•  There is an alternate universe in which hundreds of people see me as highly creative and faithfully read my blog — and even read it a second time to make sure they get all the little juicy bits I include.  And then there is the universe everyone but me seems to live in.

•  I never guessed I would be looking up the difference between axioms, postulates and  theorems at age 64 years, 54 days.  I figured I left all that behind me on my last day of high-school geometry.  But one’s interests evolve over time.  Who knows, one day I may finally open my set of pastels and produce something that my children will argue over:  “Dad’s pastel belongs in your house.”  “No, it really belongs in yours.”

•  And I never thought, at age 21 years, 43 days, that I would one day be poring over papers about dark matter and dark energy, which together make up far more of our universe than the ordinary atoms that comprise you and me and the computer display that connects us, as well as the planet we live on, the sun we orbit and the stars we gaze upon.  Fifty years after I was born, astronomers and physicists discovered that the stuff we can touch and see and breathe — so-called baryonic matter — represents less than one-twentieth of the total energy of our universe.  I find this tiny ratio humbling.

•  You, whether you are one of faith or no faith at all, will no doubt one day find yourself standing in a church pew during a service — probably a memorial service — whose tenets you do not follow.  Inevitably, while you are standing in that pew to pay your respects, the communion tray gets passed to you, and you have to decide whether to participate or just smile and pass it to the next person in the pew.  Either choice feels wrong, ethically or socially.  If only that damn tray had not been handed to me!  Why was I forced to choose?

And so go many of the so-called choices we face, in church or out.

•  Just as elevators in many hotels travel directly from the 12th to the 14th floor without pausing at the 13th, the sequence of U.S. Presidents is apparently skipping from the 44th to the 46th.  Thoughts at Large will respect this numbering.  The last edition was No. 44 and the next edition will be No. 46 — but the one you are now reading will forever reside on the 13th floor.

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