Out of Class...

And now, vibrating into the ether of inter-web-mind-space, Mario explores the periphery of the world in which he lives:

Aside from Mario's vibrations, meditations, and realizations... this maestro is still learning how to construct the base on which to build his opus, and he keeps stumbling upon things the reader needs to know to be able to identify with Mario and his adventure.

The challenge with this particular entry though, is that it is filled to the brim with invisible items of interest. And what those items are can only come into view once the reader has dipped a toe or two into this stream of consciousness. One way to do that is, to give you the reader, a glimpse at one of Mario's favorite quotes by P. Freire, where he stated: "men and women develop their power to perceive critically the way they exist in the world with which and in which they find themselves; they come to see the world not as a static reality but as a reality in the process of transformation."

Mario is all about transformation these days, as he has come to many new understandings along his journey that you too, may find in-formative.

One example of this is to take words like 'understandings' and understand it! understand its doings... Transform it if you will... define, refine and re-de-fine the find! Explore it for your self and come to your own conclusions... for, after the end of this story, you too may have a similar experiential versions of your own with which to reflect... and your innate knowing deep in your gut will tell you that you will never again stand under what you know, but stand upon it proudly! It will become your podium! It will be the place from which you too can conduct your own opus!

So, let the story begin...

***

"Fuck you!" Mario screams into the phone, followed by a violent thumb push on the red [End-Call] button... "These mother-fuckers! Cock-suckers! Jag-offs and... Christ!!! When am I ever gonna get a fuckin break here?!!! I mean seriously... WHEN?!"

Mario has that habit of talking to himself when he gets frustrated, as though by hearing himself scream it, it some how takes away some of the frustration he is feeling, and that is rarely if ever the case. The more he hears himself scream, the more frustrated he becomes... a vicious little cycle actually.

"FUCK, fuck, fuck-idy-fuck these fuckin fucko's!!! Fuck 'em all! Piss up a rope! Go fuck yourselves! Off, as in the general direction of fuck!!! FUCK!!!"... Mario screams... well, you get the idea. He's venting.

You see, Mario has this issue with people taking advantage of situations and people. Especially people like him in such situations as he is in. See, Mario sadly assumes that people are honest and intend no harm... That people are inherently good... And that if any individual gives his or her best, then they will be justly rewarded for their efforts. That if they pour their passion into some project or task, that it will be recognized and appreciated. The reality though is never so idyllic.

Mario's world is filled with these non-idyllic fucko's... whom would gladly and most vamperistically suck upon the life force of people like Mario who are, shall we say, a bit too idyllically inclined? Perhaps, (I the author would say), more juvenile in their understandings of things is more accurate a description.

People like Mario have an innocence about them that is quite charming to the vast majority of people which unbeknownst to Mario and his kind, automatically sets him(/them) up to be victimized by the unscrupulous fuck-toids among that vast majority. And this vast majority, (fuck-toids excluded), are equally unawares of the mechanics which drive their behaviors in the first place, for all they know of it is that they too, must survive as best they can and by any means necessary. Even if a few of those innocent get harmed in the process. To that vast majority, that is just how it is, so "deal" they say...

Now, this 'any means necessary' among the 'vast majority' to 'survive' thingy needs some exploration. For in order to better understand the mechanics of such utterances... one must stand-under the roots of this here weed and see the connections which make a weed such as this one even possible in the first place.

As always, that brings us back to one of Mario's favorite topics: 'The DO-ings of language'.

Now, where to start?

Hmm...

This is always where the conundrum arises...

And as always, the methodological approach is to define the terms.

Possible terms to explore:

• understand
• survive
• idyllic
• intent
• inherent
• unscrupulous
• means
• roots
• weed
• necessary
• vast
• any
• majority
• et al

To define any term is to describe that term with other terms in the hopes of coming to some new understanding of the terms used to 'do' some thing, convey some message from one to an other about some matter, topic or idea.

Sadly, the 'vast majority' find this bothersome and boring to say the least, and if they bothered some and bored into it, assumptions would wither those weeds of our dear Ms. Co-mMunication who always seems to enter the party to bring drama and chaos and spread the seeds of discontent among that 'vast majority'. Which, BTW, if that be your mind-set... and you can/will/dare-not bore and can/will/dare-not be bored because it is all too long and just plain boring... then you had best be moving along... as your third-eye needs a squeegee that is found elsewhere... so cheers! Be gone!

Now, if you are the type to bore into things, someone with a lust for knowing... well... please do read on!

So, back to terms... Perhaps it would be best for you the reader, to go and explore that list of terms above. 

Perhaps, if you the reader are able to take off your glasses so to speak, or remove your cloak of assumptions about what you think you think you know... for just a moment... or just long enough to explore like a child, assumption free... innocent like... and just go and look up those terms in several and various sources... comparing each to the others... noting the etymology... origins... root language of each term and how it was used... archaic to current, etc... then, you the reader will have a deeper and fuller understanding of each term separately... and once having done that exercise, you will now begin to see new connections betwixt the terms as they are combined and mingled one with the other to convey some message, meaning, idea or action which you may or may not decide to pursue. 

As always, the choice is up to you to do or not do, and surely you know that if you came across one with this knowing, your current doings of language prior to this little exorcise will have no effect and will not be able to affect that one within which this type of knowing resides. To these folks, you will be an outsider... Out of class, so to speak.

Namaste 

Good Vibrations...

By Mario's way of thinking, vibrations vibrate everything. Sound and light comprise all of what we see and hear and even those things we don't see or hear... everything vibrates!

This dawned on Mario in the middle of one of his sessions with "gUM"... (that Ohm... Amen... vibrating sounds of sand thing...), And Mario, who is always too distracted with some other this or that, re-members the joy of these vibrations one day while raking leaves, and how he had completely forgot the joy of that vibration!

At the same time, (while raking the leaves), Mario also reflected on the fact that the Universe is expanding. Space is expanding. His mind is expanding. And he knows that this space must vibrate... for if it didn't, stars would not be in the sky... (nor SETI so well funded), and we know that light is vibration... "gUM" is all he says.

So, Mario gets an idea...

He wants to tell the world a secret message that only the very attentive and persistent of his readership will explore or discover. And for those he is certain that he must become a Mathamusician to do it! "Perhaps that is the reason for this gift?" Mario says to himself, and only time will tell, for Mario has a tendency to get lost in distraction.

Now, a Mathamusician is not an easy thing to become. In fact, it is hard to even define what exactly a Mathamusician is! To Mario, it entails a bit of everything. Yes, it is math. It is music, too. But it is also musings on language as well as religious studies and the study of systems... it's economics and politics... it's sociology and science and everything anyone has ever learned or experienced on this little blue speck since any one on it even knew that they where on it in the first place! It is a combination of everything! And it is more than that, too.

"Now, wait a minute!" you say? "How can that even be?" you might add. Or "that's absurd" along with any number of other such utterances... and you may be right. Though to Mario, that is of no concern. You see, he feels he has found the key to accessing all of this in-formation and it is as simple as tuning into the vibrations of "gUM"...

And this is part of what he wants to share with his readership! Mario has great faith in his readership, as he knows his readers are adventurers, just like him. And also, just like him, they too have been seeking a path that would allow them to live their lives as they so see fit. He is certain of it! And it is to these folks that Mario wants to engage.

And it was the arrival of that gift which got Mario to thinking this way in the first place! So, it's not even Mario who set this ball in motion, it is the sender of the gift. And gUM only knows who that is... And either way... Mario's Mathamusicianings is only but one of a countless number of paths to the source... this is Mario's voice. There are few-some-many like it, but this one is his.

And with that, Mario figures that he has mastered enough of what he needs to know to best convey what he intends to convey, and anything that he has not yet learned will be taught him in due time. "So enough with the procrastination's  he says to himself... "I VIBRATE!"

Now, for Mario to perform such great feats of in-sight and his conviction of being able to do so and convey it to others is only due to his confidence and his humility. Mario knows he may not be as accurate on all accounts as he would like, but he is certain that the gist will be gotten.

The problem lies in where to start, firstly, and the hope that his readership will be proactive enough to explore further, any issue they feel needs validation from external primary sources, secondly, so that they too, can come to their own conclusion on whether or not any of this makes the least bit if sense to them.

So, while Mario sits there vibrating... saying to him self "I VIBRATE" he picks up the gift... this precious present... and he shakes it! He taps it and the tink-tink-tapping sound is pleasing surely, but it is no vibration to speak of, so Mario thinks, "what does this 'baton' sound like?"

And then it hits him: "Sounds are tones and these tones are re-presented with notes and these notes are the first seven letters of the alphabet and if only I could combine these notes with their numbers and the alphabet... then I'd have something!" "I could hear my gift!" he says out loud!

"So, let's see..." and Mario starts to jot down: ABCDEFG, 1234567 and realizes that a full octave is 1/2 or in the Key of C, starts with C and ends with C! And Mario knows that a string on his guitar when played open is the same tone when played at the half-way point! Open E sounds the same as E on the twelfth fret which is also the half way point! So he writes: CDEFGABC, 12345678 and then thinks... "wait... there are 26 letters in the alphabet... hmm... how am I going to get the alphabet to line-up with the numbers and notes?"

Mario picks-up the baton and admires its lines... the feeling of balance it has in his hands... he taps it a few more times as he thinks... and thinks "I'm not even half way there!"... and then, clink! He does some ratios...

"26/7=3.7142857 too messy, 26/8=3.25 too neat, 26/9=2.888... interesting, 26/10=2.6 too neat... hmm..." Mario ponders a few things here. He makes a grid and draws out the numbers, notes and alphabet of each:

1 2 3 4  5 6 7
ABC D E F G
H I J K L MN
OPQ R S TU
VWXYZ - -

then;

C D E F G A B C
1 2  3  4 5  6  7  8
AB C D E  F G H
I  J  K L M N O P
Q R S T U V W X
Y Z -  -  -   -  -   -

then;


C D E F G A B C D
1 2  3  4 5  6  7  8 9

AB C D E  F G  H I

J K L M N O P Q R

S T U V W X Y Z -

and finally;

C D E  F  G A  B C D E

0  1  2  3  4  5  6  7  8  9

A B C  D E  F G  H  I  J

K L M N O P Q  R  S T

U V W X Y Z  -  -   -  -

"hmm..." he says.

"The third one down is 26/9=2.888... and that is interesting... I like 8's... it's like infinity standing up for itself... and an octave ratio is 1/2, and 1/2 of 2.888... is 1.444... which is close to PHI at 1.61803398874989484820... or the Golden Ratio... sort of... and the Fibonacci sequence of 0+1=1+1=2+1=3+2=5+3=8+5=13+8=21+13=34+21=55... which starts out as 1/2 over 1 +1 = 1.5 +1 = 2.5... which is close to 2.888... and gets closer to PHI as it runs... and, well if No Thing plus Some Thing is 1, then Some Thing plus Some Thing is Some Thing Else! and if the un-examined life is not worth living is true and/or cogito ergo sum? Then I shall examine it and if I think, and therefore I think I think I am... and by my existing in the void of the Universe is 0+1=1! and if an other 1 gets this then 2 and an other is 3 and an other is 5 and an other is 8, etc...!!! and Fibonacci was an Italian and I am an Italian... then... no... that would be too coincidental... absurd even... And sure, 2.888... in half is smaller than PHI...  at 1.444... which is closer to the Fibonacci 1.5 as it starts out, then... well you do the numbers!!!" 

And that is how Mario chose the third one down. He liked that the 8's stood-up. 

For giggles, Mario even did a bit of numerology on 2.888... and dis-covered another interesting phenomena that also made him feel that this was the best choice. He took 2+8=10+8=18 and 1+8=9+8=17 and 1+7=8+8=16 and 1+6=7+8=15 and 1+5=6+8=14 and 1+4=5+8=13 and 1+3=4+8=12 and 1+2=3+8=11 and 1+1=2+8= 10 and 1+0=1+8=9+8=17 and 1+7=8+8=16 and 1+6=7+8=15 and 1+5=6... and well... if you look at the bold numbers... it looks like a scale of notes getting lower and lower on the scale... and that was cool to Mario, too!

NOTE: Any way, that is always fun to play with... and besides... this exact thing is what your kids already know from the Harry Potter series... it's what Hermione uses to get an inside track on things... and sure that is fiction, BUT SO IS THIS! So relax a bit and enjoy the ride. This is a 1984-Brave New World-We-Divinci Code-esq... creation of a Modest Proposal... Flow with it if you get the metaphor... or hit the door if it's beyond you, and don't let it hit ya in the ass on the way out... (Author pipping in just-incase some pin-head gets their feathers ruffled and takes it outta context...Read that "About This Blog" page if ya got any Q's).

So, let's continue...

"OK" you may be saying to yourself, "Where's he going with this?" And what a good question that is, indeed.

You see, Mario is learning to COMPOSE.

He is becoming a "Composer".

And from what he composed, he can conduct his composition! He can conduct his creations from his conscious mind into his sub/un-conscious mind and play it out into the ether of space to see if it vibrates with the Great Universal Mind!

Mario vibrates and is about to sing and dance to his own tune!

And how many readers out there have at some point or other, in the course of their lives, wished for such clarity? Wished for an ability to conduct their own lives as they so see fit? Longed for the ability to create from no thing, some thing that brought them joy? Brought them control? Gave them In-Sight? Got In-Formed? Got In-Spired?!

Well, here is the "how" and the "what" of Mario's adventure... and you'll have to hang on for the "why"! That is the best part!

For now, focus on the task at hand:

BATON=21265

21265 in C is DCDAG!

Check it for your self:

C D E F G A B C D
1 2  3  4 5  6  7  8 9

AB C D E  F G  H I

J K L M N O P Q R

S T U V W X Y Z -

And so, this is where the fun starts:

Get an instrument of any kind on which you know the notes and play DCDAG... play them individually... or combine them... use chords too... and fiddle with it! That is the creative process of it!

If it sounds and feels right, then to you, it is! Go with it! Groove! VIBRATE! Sing! Dance! En-JOY!

The point is, it works. And this made Mario so very happy as this was his first composition and he now had an idea of what he thought his baton sounded like... and he went on to add "My" to it and got FADCDAG and by using chords in a free form fashion, Mario sung himself to sleep.

Sweet dreamz.

Cheers

Bazooka!

Mario Bertolli sat there... pondering the meaning of this strange gift he received of a conductor's baton... which had arrived mysteriously, just a few days back.

“Things have been coming into my mind lately, and with startling clarity” Mario said to himself, as he sat there wondering on who sent this item to him, and why.

The last few days kept Mario busy enough that he didn't give it much thought... (This was just after his revelations on that “Staff Infection” issue... as that was much more salient to his immediate survival and was still eating at his brain).

So, the baton briefly faded from his mind. But only briefly, as now, Mario had some time to ponder, and every time that happened, the baton came rushing back to him!

He pondered... wondering... “How the hell could I make a living, 'reflecting' ?” Mario just couldn't see it. So he wondered.

Than like a subtle breeze, Mario found himself distracted for another brief moment and then did what he always did when his conscious mind was troubled or wandered. He would find a quiet place and either sit down or lay and close his eyes and say to his Conscious Mind, “Hey Mind, (Mario's conscious-mind), I want you to give this to my little-green-buddy (sub-conscious mind), and get back to me on what the two of you come up with” and he would breathe.

This technique Mario used often, allowed him to go on with his life by effectively freeing-up some space in his conscious-mind and giving it the job of working it all out with his unconscious-mind. It also has a side benefit of re-energizing him, no matter how hard any particular topic was for him on any given day.

You see, Mario knew a little secret about how these two minds worked together with what he called the great “Universal Mind”. This great Universal Mind to Mario, was something that kept his conscious and sub/UN-conscious-mind’s in check.

This great Universal Mind, (by you the reader), can be translated as one so sees fit, as this Mind is Universal.

Call it the Cosmos, call it Ether, call it a god or some higher power if you like, but to Mario it was all that and so much more! “It is Universal” was what he'd say, and that is all he could say to describe what he felt on the issue. Well, that and “gUM” which he would hum to himself quite often.

Now, Mario also knew enough about all the religions and theories out there on this planet, from Eastern thought to Western (with its arrogance and all...) from particular polities to extreme ideologies... from conspiracy theories to alien hypotheses... but to Mario... he surmised that all of them were tools for the use of what he called “The They's”. Tools used by this Power-Elite to control and manipulate the masses. Something these “The They's” could use to govern and control the plebeian masses.

And you will know this is true if you have ever been on the receiving end of the corporate understanding of normal thinking! You see, things are interconnected in a very complex web... or tapestry... And though Mario detests such metaphors, the weavers of society on this dot, in order to maintain control, sneak unnoticed deceptions into the butter, uncertain of what you know or who you really are. For if you, the reader, where to become liberated from these “The They's”, than you wouldn't stand for it. And that just won't do from their perspective.

In example: Ben Franklin's quote, "They that can give up essential liberty to obtain a little temporary safety deserve neither safety nor liberty." Senetor Ron Paul shortened the quote to, "Those that sacrifice security for liberty deserve neither." (A random YouTube quote... parroted... blah, blah... but it has great ramifications that threaten these “The They's”, as if the masses could understand the import of it beyond a theoretical. If they did, then the theoretical would become actionable and the system would crumble. Serious fear for these “The They's”, wouldn't you say? I mean, who'd ever take a job under such a construct? How would you earn your living if you didn't give up your essential liberties for the security of a promise of a paycheck or recognition for your contributions? The confusion of having to be honest and accountable is just too much for most!).

In short, the self-proclaimed authorities, (be they in business, government, academia, law or medicine), maintain their power through this deception to make certain that you never ever know who you actually are. For if you did, the game would be up and “The They's” would loose their hold on you. To them you are an expendable commodity.

Now, Mario knows this from all of his liberal arts training, his eclectic reading choices, his interdisciplinary choices of certain academic pursuits, and his access to a fare number of these tenured elites: Judges, Professors, Lawyers, Doctors, Officers, Professionals and the like. But mostly, he knows this from his experiences, failures and life lessons on the subtle system-wide oppressions of those that choose to think for themselves.

Mario is not of the herd mentality. And that has its issues as well, but we'll address that later...

Additionally, Mario is attuned to certain wavelength's that resonate with “gUM” in E,F, or G... similar to Ohm.... or Amen... or the deep, resonant sounds of sand in a dessert... And Mario uses this to get in tune with this resonance to allow his Conscious Mind to work with his Un/Sub-Conscious Mind and vibrate with the great Universal Mind.

Now, none of this should be threatening to anyone in any way... And if for some reason, (any reason at all), if you the reader feel uncomfortable with any of this at any point, please, stop. Put this down, throw it out, burn it or what ever you want. Mario's feelings won't be hurt, though he may be a bit saddened that you too, wouldn't want the calm he has found. C 'est la vie. Mario still has a long way to go and is no Messiah. He's just a traveler on a blue dot in a vast sea, seeking clarity and calm.

For Mario, his journey is a form of relaxation and calm. Some call it meditation, some call it prayer. Some visualize some higher power, and some seek the ether or the void.

Mario just focuses on his breathing.

“Inhale to the count of 4. Hold it. Hold it. Hold it. Exhale... 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 and relax” he says to himself. And after about four or so of these repetitions, Mario inhales and tenses his entire body... from his toes to head and then to the tips of his fingers... then exhales again... and releases the tension to “8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1...” then repeats the entire process until his Conscious Mind starts to feed his Un/Sub-Conscious Mind.

This is where his mind explodes with a million this or that's all of which distract him from his job of just breathing.

All the while, as this is happening, Mario struggles to not focus on that dialogue, but rather, just on his breathing. And he has gotten pretty good at it, too! He can focus now up to about the number 2! And that is a great accomplishment indeed! (If you don't believe it, try it! Getting past 1 is harder than you might think!).

Anyway, the point here is that Mario is in control of his personal mind, more so than many. Mario is calmer and clearer and better for it. He approaches things with a certain pause, a certain calm, that if you've seen it in others, you sort of wonder how they found it! This is how Mario did.

Sadly though, this same calm that Mario has, has a few side effects. Things like confidence, honesty, empathy, and enthusiasm.

“Well that's not so bad” you say?

Well, your right, it isn't.

Yet somehow, by Mario's mere presence, there is a double edged sword that he must carry... To some, he is the light in the room... to others he is a curiosity, to still others, a threat to their very existence. (Sort of like, by Mario being in the room, their moral corruptions, fears and weaknesses may be exposed and open them up to some imagined humiliation!).

I know, right?

Odd.

But for Mario, this happens all too often.

“If these folks only knew” Mario would think to himself, “they'd be freed from all of this suffering that causes them to act so peculiarly...” Mostly, Mario would exhale, smile, and walk away. For to entertain entanglement with these negative forces was just too draining for Mario. Besides, he could only get to 2! And those folks need the 8-10 crowd to help them... But that is off the topic for now, so let's get back to Mario.

It was after one of these sessions that Mario performed, with the sole intention of offering up the baton to his Sub/UN-Conscious for exploration, when it dawned on him that he had completely forgotten about the baton!

I know, right?!

Well, lucky for him, his Conscious and Sub/UN-Conscious play well in the sandbox of his mind and took the essential liberty of getting it up and in there to be tossed about until it either needed more information or came back to him with an answer.

And either way, the process was put into effect and time must pass until it is needed. At which point, they will offer up a solution, and then Mario will have to weigh it against his internal ethical compass and see if he agrees with it and believes that the “gUM” would approve.

At first, Mario was a bit wobbly on his feet with this process, but over time, he gained an inner-ear of sorts and finally got his balance. (Though he still stumbles every so often).

On several occasions, he misread what his little green buddy gave back to his conscious mind and didn't consider “gUM” 's potential response. “gUM” let Mario wallow in it, too! For if “gUM” didn't, then Mario wouldn’t have gotten the lesson.

Either way, those painful experiences are gifts. Mario has made drastic improvements which have made Mario feel a bit grander than he aught to have felt, but he'll get that lesson when it is needed.

Perhaps the baton is the tool with which to do it?

We shall see.

Till next time,

Cheers

Staff Infection

The following work of fiction is a story about Mario Bertolli, A.K.A. "The Maestro" presented and written by Mr.E.

This is his baton:

It arrived via post, only moments ago.

Mario opened it and took it outside to his picnic table to admire it and wonder on who sent this and why.

You see, at this point, Mario had no knowledge of music and no need for such a strange thing as this in his life.

He was perturbed by the gift which was further accentuated by the chill of Fall setting in... when a crack in the fabric of reality caught Mario's eye...

"Spider-Spit splits this glass of reality", Mario thinks to himself. "How odd is it that we humans can't create from water and spit, anything nearly as strong or beautiful as this?"

Mario's hands and feet were cold. The season was changing and as with all change, there are moments of reflection that happen. Especially when it is accompanied by an odd gift.

On this day in particular, Mario was struggling with his current situation as an "Introduce-r" for a particular product offering that solves a particular need in a specific industry.

What the product is, is not the issue. It is a good product and it solves a problem and that is really all there is to know about it. Mario is proud to re-present it. To be it's "Introduce-r".

The problem for Mario is that as an "Introduce-r", he is on straight commission. And to be on straight commission is a very tenuous place to be. For example, Mario knew that he could sell things. He is very personable and everyone likes him. He could sell potato chips and be successful, or he could sell ships!

Now, Mario's reasoning is such that to sell chips is to make many, many small sales to many, many people and even though his margins were reasonable, there's all of that customer support that's needed beyond all of those calls to actually sell it. To Mario, that was too tedious to have to deal with, so he thought it better to sell ships. "One big ship would be as much effort as a billion bags of chips", he reasoned. And he may be right. But he doesn't sell chips or ships and this is all metaphor, yet it still applies in Mario's mind.

And this isn't even the problem for Mario. You see Mario's problem lies in the relationship he has as an "Introduce-r" for one of the countless Cool Unique New Things corporations that exist on this little blue dot.

And from the perspective of the corporation, Mario is a no-cost, expendable and unappreciated asset. "I cost you no thing" he sadly recalls saying once, to one of the higher-ups in the corporation. And it is this that has him frustrated.

And it was on this day, when the spider-spit sparkled and the gift of a conductor's baton arrived, that it all fell into place for him.

You see, Mario had done a considerable amount of work for the corporation. He introduced and sold many solutions. And through all of it, he made just barely enough to stay above water. Mario told himself that it was "the nature of the game". He'd get his, eventually. Challenge here was, this eventually was a long time coming.

You see, the nature of Mario's product is such that a concept such as this, took a considerable amount of conducting to communicate, sell, complete and deliver. And Mario didn't get his, until it was delivered and the check cleared.

And the typical cycle that that took, took too, too long.

"Maybe that was what the gift was for", he thought. Perhaps he could conduct better to get a better outcome? Who knows... but what Mario finds is far from anything you the reader would ever expect.

Any way, the nature of taking a concept into a product to solve a particular problem is a tedious process, and the corporation itself, really only has a concept, too, as well as some resources that Mario lacks. Things like credit, or assets, or access to monies. And to assemble all of the fabricators and manufacturers of all the various components, along with their assembly, testing and then shipping entails a seemingly endless stream of idiots, the first and most prominent in Mario's eyes, is the corporation. But Mario feels some need to be aligned with this corporation for various reasons. Namely, that he has no interest is the minutia that makes concepts reality.

Another is, Mario lives a bit outside of the norm. He doesn't do things the way most people do things. He doesn't subscribe to the norm. To Mario, the norm is abnormal. The third is, this concept is not rocket science and is really only a collection of component pieces assembled in such a way that it solves a particular problem. Another still, is Mario lacks credibility in his own mind firstly, and in the eyes of his peers, friends, family and potential customers.

Mario is unique. Too unique perhaps...

But somehow, Mario gets by.

And Mario is proud. Too proud perhaps.

And Mario is cool with Mario. Too cool perhaps.

And Mario could care less what the world thought of him as long as he could live out his life, his way.

And to many folks, Mario was a kook.

To those folks, Mario would say "go piss up a rope..." and mostly, they'd laugh and dismiss Mario.

Mario was fine with that.

What bothered Mario most, was when Mario figured out some odd this or that, which bugged him or made him feel as though he was being taken advantage of...

You see Mario was an honest man, a caring man, and a kind man. And this blue dot was not a place for such a man.

Sadly, this blue dot operates on a principle that might makes right.

It operates, (at least in Mario's country), on the concept that a corporation is an individual as well. And though a corporation is comprised of individuals, the corporation itself is a soulless entity. Its only job is to return a profit to its investors, limit liability and comply with the laws of the land.

And Mario learned this from a documentary called "The Corporation" and found resonance with it, as you may, too.

Mario knows, (as I am sure you do too), that all ideas are parroted and borrowed from some where's else, just like Mario's corporations' product offering... it is a collection of various pieces assembled in such a way that it solves a problem or answers a question.

None of it is unique or special, novel or new... it is a collective bucket of mix-n-matches rearranged to suit one's own needs, adjusted and readjusted as needed.

One other principle on this blue dot that Mario noticed, (and which is rarely talked about in polite society), is the deceptive nature of it all. Deception, as Mario has learned, is the greatest sin of sins.

Deception deceives and does things that make others do things that they would not do if they knew that they had been deceived.

This is where Mario is today.

An articulation of a realization of a deception.

And Mario is pissed that he did not catch it, for Mario is not a person that can't understand new things! Quite the opposite, in fact. Mario understands the doings of language better than most, as he has spent many a waking hour contemplating what words do!

Mario knows things.

And Mario does not subscribe to the norm. To him, it is abnormal, like we said above. Mario can read between the lines.

But, there is a problem with Mario's ability to see forward with his super-hero- read between the lines - skill-set. He, like most of us, can only see it once it has been done.Once time has past. Some call it common sense. And that too, is only common, once someone knows it... up until that time... it remains unknown... un-common.

Now, Mario has been doing a great deal of work with the corporation, and as each sale turned concept into reality, Mario had to wait for his pay-off. He'd sell the item... get the 50% down, (check made to the corporation), maybe get a few pennies to survive off of... and wait the supposed 8 weeks until the product was produced.

But the 8 weeks turned to twelve. 12 turned to sixteen... and the delivery added another week. Then the buyer took 30 days to pay and the check took 10 days to clear. So Mario added this all up and found that 26 weeks from the time of a sale was too long!

In addition, every set-back in production added time to Mario's date of getting paid... every delay extended Mario further.

And if Mario had only sold one unit, that would be frustrating enough, but since he sold many more and multiples of these units, each with its own unique set of variables, delays, set-backs and small piteousness of funds off of which to live, made this an accounting and collections nightmare!

"Who has paid, how much has been payed, what was owed, what was due, when would it be paid..." Phone call upon phone call... un-replied to emails and nothing in writing all made for a very stressful relationship between Mario and the corporation.

"Call you next Tuesday" the corporation would say when an inquiry of if any funds had posted, which was followed with a "See you next Thursday" and an over generous offer for some supposed training that was needed. They can "see you need training" and are willing to teach you until you're taught on the principles of how to sell more... after which, if you did well with your training, some unreasonable expectation of some return on their investment in the form of immediate sales in some unrealistic time-line is demanded, at which point they throw out there that perhaps you "can't understand new things" as you could never meet their demands in the first place.

The corporation calls this "normal thinking". The corporation asserts that you "can't understand normal thinking" and Mario thinks "Can you NOT talk? Just send me my check!" But it falls on deaf ears.

Mario feels defeated.

Mario waits.

Mario knew at the time he took the gig on that it was not ideal. Mario knew that in order for him to remain the unique person that he was, not having any resources outside of his personality and such, that Mario would have to make some concessions.

What Mario did not know then, was that he would subscribe to a prescription that he himself uttered, which set the whole ball in motion.

Mario should never have said "I cost you no thing". For it was this very utterance that made him the fool.

Mario knew that to become an "Introduce-r" for any one of the countless Cool Unique New Things corporations that exist on this little blue dot was to become ensnared in a game.

Mario knew that deception.

Mario is not a person that can't understand new things!

Mario knew he should have told 'em to "go piss up a rope" the moment the corporation said "Call you next Tuesday" or "See you next Thursday" on his money or when they offered to teach him until he was taught tight as a string and about to snap, or when they said "see you need training" or that he "couldn't understand new things".

Mario knew what marginalized meant. What the cost of unique was. What the price for non-norm behavior would be.

And Mario would keep his mouth shut.

Mario would survive.

Mario knew that Mario was not too keen on the corporate understanding of "normal thinking", and also that they were watching his every move, but Mario is only human, and prone to making foolish mistakes. With this at least, Mario was able to sleep soundly. Mario is no one's Boo-Boo Doll. Mario is a force!

And that in the grand scheme of things, the universe wouldn't hardly notice the insignificance of any of it, anyway.

For it is but one small story speck on one small blue dot in the grand cosmos and there are many more much more horrific examples which take up so much more of this small blue dot that are all but specks upon that dot and that that dot is but a small speck in any of it all anyway.

So, Mario is not all that concerned, just a bit irritated.

"It's as pretty as spider-spit" he'd say. "A new perception of reality".

"But this baton... that's something altogether different..." Mario thought. "What could it mean?"

And that is where we'll leave Mario today... contemplating an odd gift.

Till next time, Cheers

GONE FISHING!

Plenty of Fish...

Wow.

Where does one start with this?!

I am a trout.

Trout is not an option on POF... (Plenty of Fish...)

I am also a Cancer.

And Crab is an option on POF...

Hence, as a Crab, and a Cancer, I will approach this thing sideways... and as you'll see... I will transform from a Crab, back into a trout, then back into me.

We'll call it an adventure in the demystification of fishing via the mythos of Mr.E! (Sure, why not. It's a good title!)

So, let's sully-up to this underwater gurgle-phone and blather some babble on the inter-stream about the types of "Fishy's" this pond of absurdity has to offer...

The water, as you'll see, is a bit murky...

That is certain.

And from a 10,000ft view... it looks inviting... though a bit muddy.

So, you stick a toe in to see how the water is, and mermaids flutter about with flowing hair and the sweet sounds of Siren's songs squealing in the wee hours...

Harps of heart-strings strummed to fantastical visions of vivacious vacillating vixens of every shape, size, and color... All seemingly too eager to please... all accosting your eyes and imaginations. (Hint: accost too high to pay to play, as you will see, this consumption-"con" consumes completely).

As that muddy-murkiness clears a bit while you fill-out form after form of this and that... and are then  presented with some supposed, actionable information. But as you review this actionable information, you dis-cover that you knew all this about yourself already... it is your archetypal personality trait... and like looking at a horoscope reading, it's vague and general enough to apply as the reader so sees fit.

But, it's your fishing-license if you will...

And no "license", no fish.

So, you pay the fee... how ever grudgingly, and say "HELL with it all! I'm going FISHING!"

So, you grab your rod, hang-up your sign and off ya go!

And then SPLASH! 

You jump in, feet first!

And the waters start to bubble almost immediately! Air pockets start to form... magma flows from the deep and sulfuric gases are emitted from down below... Then, the water starts to taste like egg-shells and aluminum-foil!

But, your hopes are high that this is a big enough pond and that you can get away from the stink of it all, and long before you can even get close to the extent of it all...

You need to find your bearings, as things are not what they appear to be. You are all turned around, upside down and grabbing for a surface that doesn't exist. You've even swallowed a bit of the water and are choking underwater, which is not an easy thing to do. Finally, you do find your bearings... or so you think.

One such bearing is geographical. And if geography was a pond, than mine is full of Carp. And quite frankly, that may be the whole problem in a nut shell... But we still have to explore, just to make sure... There could be a gem out there under some rock, lost in the weeds... that would like to play!

Anyway...

Carp.

Invasive, shit-eating, miserable looking, bloated, un-happy, listless, life-less, worth-less, tooth-less, ugly fucking Carp!

"The water is muddy", you say to yourself, "don't get the blues..." as a way to ease that shock of so many damned Carp!

And so, you decide to narrow your bearings a bit and find some more productive waters... It's a big pond, right? Plenty... right?

You notice that Age has a lot to do with it... and the POF folks kindly put it at a statistically appropriate level... (10 yrs either way),... so you change that Age about and start to see Goldfish!

Tons of 'em...

From solid to multi-colored to bulge-eyed, bright-eyed, fan-tailed, flutter-bugs... all of which think that they are big fish! (Funny on one hand... sad on another... but boy do they flutter!)

All a glisten and lost in some wUnderland of hopeful wishing's that the big bad shark will find and eat them up, yumm...

Now, with a little practice, you learn to squint underwater... and can, over time, begin to ever so slightly visualize every single one of these little Gold-fishy's, turning into a shit-eating Carp.

And ya know how they got there, right?! (Hint:Remember that piece of Dealing with Your Shit
 some time ago? Well, there ya go... ya just flushed and forgot, didn't ya?)

Now, one way of fishing Carp is called snagging.

And snagging is a brutal technique of taking a three-pronged hook with rough barbs and yanking it back rapidly. An aggressive strip-strike with your entire rod! Ya gotta yank it hard!

In essence, the hook sinks in the rotting fatty flesh of the shit-eating Carp and tears into it.

The result is, blood and slime, sweat and shit floating everywhere...

But they fight like mad, and then just give-up!

And ya can't even eat 'em... So now ya got a dead useless fish, good for nothing but the fertilizer in the garden.

No good.

Junk-fish fishing on junk food eating Carp is CRAP!

Now, the Gold-fishy's know they're gonna turn into Carp one day, and they know that snagging hurts, so they try as best they can to dole out as much "s" as they can. (One might call it a process of X-ing... or the taking of something from something while leaving some thing behind, unnoticed, and bitter.)

So, snagging, for all intents and pour-pus-is, to turn it  into Nagging for all that "s" X-ing they mustered to hook you, hoping that the Fisher-man himself gets snagged on the Sneaky-Shit this snagging business is all about!

Indeed.

And any Fisher-man that sips on the seemingly succulent juices of these "s" X-ing Gold-fishy's is gonna get what he deserves!

"Desire leads to suffering" some one once said... And the raw end of a gut costs too much for the small bit of splishy-splashing's it produces.

So, that Fisher-man has now got to think a bit differently... Does he really want to play with these types of fish?

No.

He has got to change his tactics if he gonna hook a "nice" fish. One you could eat let's say...

And one way of doing that is to change bait and technique...

Now, this new way of fishing entails taking that same treble-hook... and instead of snagging... the Fisher-man loads that hook with chicken-livers, fish-heads and other such nasty, mucky, sun-baked, smelly shit and puts a big honkin' piece of lead on to the end of the line to hold it all in place.

Now, with a bobber, placed high enough up the line, he chucks his rig of treble-hooked, lead-weighted, bobber placed bait shit as far into the water as his skill will allow, and just waits.

And waits...

And waits...

He drinks a few beers...

Eats a few sandwiches...

Snags a few chips...

Drinks another beer...

And waits...

And waits.

***

And just as the sun is about to set, the bobber goes kurr-plunk, the rod-tip bends and the fight is on!

Now, for a good twenty minutes or so, reeling in and letting out and re-reeling in again... the Fisher-man finally gets to see his quivery quarry... which presents an odd query of qualm...

This time, the Fisher-man caught a Cat-Fish!

Another shit-eating, slimy snake like bottom-feeding turd of a fish!

"Awe, hell" the Fisher-man says, "at least I can eat this one...", provided one can nail its fucking head to a board and peel-back the slimy skin of this three-pronged shit-eating, slimy snake like bottom-feeding turd of a fish! And then, only if he can get the image of CATS out of his head! (Hint: Cat anything will piss on your shit, run! Just take my word on it, run).

That's right, I said "three-pronged"... CAUSE THAT is pay-back, too! Those three spine-like needles from the back and two dorsal s are loaded with a poison! Prick your hand on that, and it's gonna sting like mad! So handle these buggers with care... "I'm just sayin...". No one should ever be so hungry as to eat one of these damned fish, it'll ruin your palette on finer fish for sure!

Well, by this time, the Fisher-man has once again got to re-evaluate his approach.

So he washes the slimy muck off his hands and the ceiling and calls it a night.

And as he sleeps, he sees visions of Sun-Fish and Blue-Gills... Perch... and Crappie... and look! Even a Blow-Fish! Now wouldn't that be fun?! (Nah... Scratch the Blow-Fish, way too many pricking-prongs on that porcupine!)

Come morning, the crack-of-Dawn has him excited, and he rises to his feet for another day of FISHING!

And he's gonna chase down some of those fishy's he saw in his dreams!

Now, the Fisher-man goes out to the bait shop, and gets all the gear he needs to catch him a gaggle of Pan-fish... cause everyone knows, Pan-fish are good eatin'!

So he grabs his grubs... wax-worms... and some night-crawlers... some crickets... and some minnows...

He buys hooks and shot, and barrel-swiggles to swivel which ever way, (with and without clasps of various sizes), and studies the maps to find where some of the best "lays" will be...

Again, he grabs his rod... hangs his sign... and off he goes!

***

Gone Fishing! Day 2...

Now, loaded down with all of this new gear, buckets of this, bags of that, he opens his tickle box... and starts to rig his line to entice these little fishy's to his hook.

What is exciting about this type of fishing is that the Fisher-man can have a gazzillion lines rigged in a gazzillion configurations and various depths to see if anything bites...

And as always... something does bite. And usually, on two or three of the lines at the same time!

And this causes great confusion, and a good number of fish are lost, swallow the hook too deep, or are just too small to keep. But ya fill your basket with a bunch of Pan-fish... and Pan-fish are good eatin'!

Only problem is, they aren't substantial enough.

Pan-fishing really only feeds the ego. It says "Hey, self! You're a good Fisher-man, good job! Wasn't it fun to hook all those fishy's? Play 'em one right after the other... several at a time even?!!!" and the Fisher-man about breaks his own back patting him self.

And patting ones self gets old and is also like too much Cat-Fish... More like Carp actually... a junk-food version of salt, fat and sugar... sure ya crave it, but ya ain't gonna be healthy if that's all ya eat!

So, the Fisher-man has yet once again, got to re-evaluate his approach.

Carp suck.

Gold-Fishy's suck and turn into Carp.

Cat-Fish suck and may hurt ya.

Pan-Fish are fun but still suck.

And yet, the Fisher-man does not loose hope!

No! Not he!

He has Pickerel and Walleye, Pike and Sturgeon, and Bass of every stripe or spot, yellow or rock, large mouthed and small to choose from still!

So after a long second day of fishin', the Fisher-man packs up all his gear and calls it a day.

Tomorrow is gonna land him his dream fish!

Yeah!

You just wait and see!

So, the Fisher-man goes home, rests-up, dreams of all these new fish and plans another day of FISHING!

"Plenty of 'em" he says... and off to sleep he goes.

Now, when the next morning rolls around... Dawn is no longer on his mind. He has set his sights higher than that... and off to the bait shop he goes.

And, new rods... and new reels... fluorocarbon lines invisible in water... spoons and popper's... jiggs and weed-free this's and that's... depth finders and underwater cameras... and a fleet of vessels to carry it in to his prey...

A Bass-Boat... a sail boat... a pontoon... a Hummer... a little red Corvette... a Porsche...  a Harley...

A mid-life crisis...

And wouldn't ya know it... these shiny bits lure in the fishy's like mad!

But these fishy's are a different breed all together... the young one's are all bronze and shiny, and the old one's are like tanned leather... and none of 'em are ever gonna be on the Fisher-man's menu...

So, the Fisher-man decides to be a bit more modest, and gets a few of the more logical trappings this new type of fishing requires... and gets enough to try his luck at all the Pickerel and Walleye, Pike and Sturgeon, and Bass of every stripe or spot, yellow or rock, large mouthed and small.

And off he goes... grabs his rod, hangs his sign... Another day of FISHING!

Again, he studies his maps, finds what he thinks will be good "lays" and sets-up shop.

Which to choose... which to choose...

And he fumbles around for the next few days, trying to get the hang of all this crap and comes out of it all frustrated as hell.

He now needs that Bass-Boat, that depth-finder... that Hummer... cause nothin' is even lookin' at his presentation... Seriously... He's fishin' from a DOCK! From the SHORE-Line!

He ain't got what it takes to take these fish...Lure-less lacks luster to leather-ed lovelies young and old and he packs up, depressed and defeated. The  Pickerel and Walleye, Pike and Sturgeon, and Bass of every stripe or spot, yellow or rock, large mouthed and small and the other breed are all beyond his reach.

Home he goes.

He drinks a few beers... fires up the BBQ... and eats a few Cheesy-Metz... then calls it a night.

And wouldn't ya know it, in the middle of the night, an idea hits hit!

Muskellunge!

Yes...

Muskellunge!

Muskies!

The inland barracuda's of fresh water!

And back to sleep he goes.

Now, in the course of his sleep, he plays through Muskellunge in his mind... all the gear... all the toys... and the gadgets... the boats... the trucks to pull those boats... the depth-finders... and trolling motors... ship to shore radios... and live-catch boxes...

And wakes-up to the realization that this too, is beyond his means.

But at least this time, he ate breakfast first and didn't even bother to hit the bait-shop.

He leaves the fishy's to go about their day of hookin' on the Fisher-men that are fishin' them today.

And besides, we still have Trout!

Rainbow's... and Brook's... and Brown's... Cut-Throat's and Green-Back's, too! And yes! More gear, rods, reels, lines, hooks, fur and feather... leaders... tippit... tools and toys... and waders and on and on...

Imitation's!

Flies to fly!

Oh yes!

What fun!

What trickery!

What deception!

A transition has occurred!

No more bait chuggin' at these here fishy's... no!

We're gonna entice them to our offering with a more gentlemanly approach!

Something haughty just might do the trick to find that something naughty!

Yes...

Deceive.

Make 'em think they got something good to eat...

Trick 'em into hitting your taste-less fluff of feathers and fur... and then Rip 'em out of their atmosphere and into yours!

Watch 'em wiggle and squirm!

See the horror in their eyes when they realize they've been had...

Then release 'em. (It's the humane and proper thing to do...)

Right?!

WRONG!

So wrong.

Wow.

Seriously, I'm starting to think this fishin' shit is for the birds... and they need their feathers to fly! And even flying-fish, which ain't got feather, don't like feathers! They're tasteless!

So anyway, I think I'm just gonna hop on out of this here pond and go row my boat gently down the stream... take in the scenery... go merrily, and maybe... somewhere's along that winding river of life... somewhere's in that babbling brook... that sea, ocean, cloud of life... another boat will float up next to mine and we can tickle oars a bit...

And how cool would that be?!

Much more to my liking than the 'poof' of a POF or the kooks on the Zoosk's...

It's just too damned depressing and I am a much more happy and positive guy than that!

Heck, that some imagined "we" is not to complete this Mr.E, but to compliment both the she and the me... to enhance a romance with wondrous possibilities!

That tickles my fancy and my palette...

Now HURRY-UP Ms. Ima Floatina Bout and come splash around!

LOL!

Cheers

"Peachclam"-mation Point!

Tom Robbins' Still Life With Woodpecker, was gifted to me "From one outlaw to another" by a brilliant red headed soul, to whom I am grateful for having had known, however briefly. And after having delved deeply into this tome, I am relieved to have found that Tom's Remington SL3 had sputtered out, not much unlike 'love' and ended with the last few pages written by hand... and beyond CHOICE, my most poignant re-membered point presented reads as follows: "It is contrary to the nature of mystery <sic> to stand still." Time well spent like a Mayfly in this river of life... I am humbled by happenstance, yet again. Travel well, row gently, merrily, dream, tow, let go... and flow... Cheers

Elemental Happenstances... happen-stancing...

This one deals with the List Shit... 

The Shit List... 

As I am listlessly listing lists of "List's"... I list over into a new realization that:

List's are shit.


Pure, unadulterated BULLSHIT!


Yet, by looking at it, (list's in fact), it can become a liberating experience to just list your lists! And this new list, now becomes a 'List of List's'! And no matter how you try to divide your shit... compartmentalize it... it just grows and grows and grows... Shit happens...


So, in order to use the magic of naming, or more specifically, the magic of words, one must take ownership over the word itself. And here, for our purposes, the word today is "List"...


So lean on over... in here a bit... List over... and List-en to this...


A "List" can be, by its very nature... untameable and never-ending. Overwhelming in fact! Hence why so many of us hate them!


They, meaning "List's", are vampiristic, soul-sucking excercises that must be exorcised into oblivion! One must get free from the force of list upon list, upon list... infinitum... ad nausium...


They, again meaning "List's", must be nutured, casterated and made tame!


Crushed! And SMASHED!


And in order to crush, Smash! and tame them, (again, these "List's"), one must sadly... list them...


I know, right?!


So, take a moment... Just breath... OK?

All better?

Good.

Let's continue:


This is exactly why "List's" are so damned evil. Just by naming them, they are envoked! Like some incantation, smoke enters the room to fill it (both the lister and the room), with dread and gloom... A green, low-laying fog of despair and listlessness rushes in... usually undetected...



They are sneaky like that...



But have no fear! For here lies a clue!!! This listlessness can be de-"ness"ed and segmented, to become somewhat more listless! And that can be de-"less"-ened, to become just a naked little-list, which is much more easy to deal with! And we can 'In-"ness"-ance', make that little list, less than its high-ness would like for you to think of her as... as from this... and from which, she is no high and mighty word... nor has she any royal claim in the land of words... but is only just a small irritation (and possible little gift), trying to make it in a big-word-world and in which, (with the help of many witches, warlocks, word-smiths and wanderers...), will allow you to kill the little bitch! (And don't get all bent out of shape here... you've cursed this little bitch called "List's" a thousand times over... and every-time you have had to face her... you've dreaded every moment... even when you lie to yourself and say... "we'll, it has got to be done, so here goes...", and you know in the back of your mind, that you hate her and you think your little-list won't grow into that MONSTER?! BULLSHIT! You know that somehow she will always grow! And she does... and you hate her for it. You loath the sight of her! "Damn it!" You've said it... and can't deny it... so deal with it and move on... I'm painting here.)


Now, for all practicle purposes, one must keep in mind, that when dealing with "List's", that one does not get lost in the 'Land-of-List's'... (Imagine a large echo-chamber here...) for this little-list-bitch it is a snake, eating its tail... and by so doing, grows as it consumes itself, into a larger and more unmanigable monster... And as each of these little respective monsters grows, then... they begin to become incorporated... to conspire... to become legion... and as they become incorporated... they get even more unmanigable! AHHhh..!!! The horror...


And the only way to kill it is to let it gorge itself, on its self until, for nothing else, it runs out of its own juices and becomes a listless mess of nothingness! Let her lay there... and good riddance!


She has been exorcised!

And you are now able to be free from the clutches of "List's", that if you listened... would find that it was list-less-ened... and the list was ended, dead and done...

Now the next time she rears her ugly little head, like a weed in a flower-bed, you'll identify it, pluck-it by the roots and throw it on that pile of How-to-Deal-with-your-Shit", that makes-up those life lessons... and there lies but yet another clue as to the doing's of language... its magic... its naming... and your "Lessons" will become: "Moresons" and we always know MORE is better than LESS! And yes, Less is More... but that is another story for another time...

Travel well and row gently, merrily! It is all but a dream in the stream...


Cheers