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Happy Valentine’s Day to lovers old and young. Please have this slight but sweet acrostic confection. Why I spelled Indulgence Induldence I cannot say for sure. Perhaps something duld my sinces.

I have created a Valentine for my sweet/fine/incredible Girlfriend, Denise. It is for her eyes only. I encourage you to likewise make Valentines for those you love, from afar or otherwise. This is a day for Sweethearts.

Some time ago I drew Denise reading, and acrosticized the occasion, thus:

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Friends, may your Valentine’s Day be filled with Love and Kisses.

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Yesterday was Lincoln’s birthday. I wanted to say something new, or at least meaningful, about him. I had little to go by in my recent experience aside from having viewed both LINCOLN and ABRAHAM LINCOLN: VAMPIRE HUNTER. So I did a little research…

Which led me to documentation that President Lincoln frequently used the N-word, loved minstrel shows demeaning to people of color, and told “darky” jokes. In other words, today he’d be considered a racist by many.

There are those who might say that we can’t expect too much from a man of the near-south in the 1800s. And my hero Kurt Vonnegut once confessed to admiration for the writing of known Nazi sympathizer Louis-Ferdinand Céline. And Robert Penn Warren once wrote “And what we students of history always learn is that the human being is a very complicated contraption and that they are not good or bad but are good and bad and the good comes out of the bad and the bad out of the good, and the devil take the hindmost.”

Somehow I found myself grouping Lincoln, Barack Obama, and Jomo Kenyatta, founder of the independent Republic of Kenya, where Barack Obama Sr. came from when it was still British East Africa. Jomo Kenyatta is on much Kenyan currency and coin, but not for long. Perhaps it is because he was publicly in favor of female genital mutilation. “No proper Kikuyu would dream of marrying a girl who has not been circumcised,” he stated in his book Facing Mount Kenya. Wikipedia mentions his taking the “traditionalist” side in public debate.

And what of Barack Obama? He has most of his second term before him. I would like to urge him to become an example to the world of what the United States is all about. He has already done that to some extent. His two inaugural speeches were magnificent, and I have praised them both on my modest Facebook soapbox. But Gitmo remains open for business, and many of his other promises go either as yet unkept or bent or shattered. “That’s politics,” some may say. But, Mr. President, I urge you to at least pretend to transcend politics, to the good of the world citizenry. Pretend to be transcendent, early and often, and with good will and good luck Kurt Vonnegut’s admonition will apply favorably.

NOTE: I wish my journal page above had contained much more of the message that is here below it. I was seduced by wordplay, and the acrostic format, plus some semblance of meter, plus an incorrigible proclivity towards punmanship, made the words what they are. I regret that they did not mean more; I hope they and these words are at least thought-provoking.

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Long ago I did some purchasing for a software engineering concern. One vendor offered a cut-rate screaming deal on a ONE GIGABYTE HARD DRIVE. It could be mine for a mere two hundred and ninety dollars.

Now I have something that holds thirtyfold what that dinosaur would, and it set me back ten bucks. I should use it more often in case things go Kablooie.

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Saturday morning our Village of Oak Creek was fabricked with the satin of joined snowflakes. I have not seen snow falling all that many times in my life–spending most of my life in the Valley of the Sun, I was 21 years old the first time I saw snow falling–so it is new enough to me to seem miraculous.

I owe my knowledge of the word (or words) Uffda (or Uff Da) to my sweet former wife, a small-town gal from Minnesota. During our 23 years of marriage, which ended a year ago last December, I also learned to say “come here once” instead of “come here, please” and “well, you’re welcome” instead of “you’re welcome.” Uffda usually follows some kind of accident (like dropping the fried egg on the floor) or burdensomeness (like working a double shift)–at least that was my inference. I am not bilingual in Minnesotan; but I often say “Uffda” just after getting my old bones off the couch after sitting there for more than an hour. Comes in handy, and trips off the tongue!,

It was one of those days John Lennon sang about when he sang “Nobody Told Me There’d Be Days Like These/Strange days inDEED…” Suddenly I found myself again at Urban Beans in Phoenix, Arizona with the smallest of time windows. It was 5:35pm. Caffeine Corridor would start at 7:00PM, and I had to talk to at least two people beforehand about at least two different things. After the event I had to dinner&drive back to my home and my love, with an image to post befor midnight. And I hadn’t ordered my large plain-drip coffee yet.

At 6:17pm I was finished with the image. Necessity is the mother of inspiration: I knew I had to keep it minimal–MINIMAL? A theme tailor-made…

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Enigmatic & quite a show
Entertaining & awesome glow
As we lessers contract catarrh
Rheumatismatical Epstein-Barre
There’s our Life-Grantor SUN so fair
Heaps of Energy with a flare

George Carlin, pointed tongue in cheek, on Sun Worship: “I’ve begun worshipping the sun for a number of reasons. First of all, unlike some other gods I could mention, I can see the sun. It’s there for me every day. And the things it brings me are quite apparent all the time: heat, light, food, and a lovely day. There’s no mystery, no one asks for money, I don’t have to dress up, and there’s no boring pageantry. And interestingly enough, I have found that the prayers I offer to the sun and the prayers I formerly offered to “God” are all answered at about the same 50% rate.”

To cover all the bases, though, Carlin prayed to Joe Pesci: “You know who I pray to? Joe Pesci. Two reasons: First of all, I think he’s a good actor, okay? To me, that counts. Second, he looks like a guy who can get things done.”

George Carlin and the Sun have two things in common. Both have radiated enormous energy; and both are not on Earth, but some other Where.

 

 

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I now live in the land of Spooky Woo-Woo, where maps of psychic vortices are available. One such vortex is rumored to be on Bell Rock, which is walking distance–LONG walking distance, but I’ve done it several times. Maybe it’s the altitude, or the stunning red-rich rock configurations, but there does seem to be something extraordinary about this place.

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“Ars longa, vita brevis.” That’s Latin for “Art long, life short.” But sometimes in our short life, we have to wait a seeming forever for something we want. Sometimes we have to get in a line to get it. Sometimes we have to get OURSELVES in line to get it. And some heartbreaking times we find that what we waited for, and what we behaved ourselves so pristinely for, was not quite what we wanted, or even at all what we wanted. So the next time you’re in a line, with a lot of time to kill, ask yourself: Is THIS what I REALLY want?

… because it is a Mars/Soupy/Al (Marsupial).

In a lifetime of concocting horrible puns, this is one of the worst. As far as I know, the planet Mars and Soupy Sales and Al Pacino have never before been linked to such nefarious purpose.

The text of this triple acrostic is nigh-impossible to read, doing as it does Loop-the-Loops with internally-repeating text strings, so here is a plain-text transcription:

My Mephistopheles has an Agenda
Mmmost unmysterious–yet an enigma
My bane is mucilaginous pudenda
My oddities extend to the 6th sigma

And if by chance I riff a lot, my VISA
Augmented by demented tours of ASIA
And psychical applause from Mona Lisa
Agrees then to succumb to Euthanasia

Responding to despondent plaintive plea
Retributive spare parties hunt the Fauna
Responsible for plaguing Earth and Sea
Repeatedly whipped-creamedly with Sauna

Spawn-taneously we may Breed until
Symp symphony then contraceives our Will

Fans of the Sonnet will note that this is one such: fourteen lines of iambic pentameter, Shakespearean rhyme scheme, concluding final couplet. In my immodest and self-aggrandizing opinion, no one else on Earth could have written a triple acrostic, the letter lengths of which are three/five/two, with a metaphor of such stick-together oddness summed up by the punned acrostic, cleaving to sonnet parameters, with a Zero Population Growth message embedded. Plus it has Loop-the-Loop calligraphy and loopy illustrations. Hope you like it!

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