Where it originated is still a mystery. The saying implies that one should know Jack Shit to be accepted in present company. If that is true Jack Shit must have been a real person, a person of some distinction because it was obviously prestigious to know him. A cursory glance in whitepages .com reveals a Kim Shit in Norwalk California and a Beverly in Torrance, and even a Shitjing Ho in San Jose, but no Jack. Even so, I wonder if he was a foreigner. Maybe his first name was Jacque. That would place him either in Europe, Quebec or a French providence. Finding the real deal could turn out to be a chore.
So we have established that there actually are people whose last name is Shit, but we can only guess where the expression came from. What if someone called you one day and said, “Hello, I would like to formally introduce myself. My name is Jack Shit”. I don’t know about you but I’m pretty sure of my reaction to be one of disbelief.
Consider the following scenario.
“I don’t know Jack Shit”. I would probably answer.
"That’s right Sir. You don’t know me but I know you. My name has become something a common saying for people synomous of ignorance. The problem arises when I want to use the expression.
I can’t really use the expression because they are indeed speaking to Jack Shit, and the expression: 'You don’t know Jack Shit' just doesn’t fit in that case, does it. When I feel like saying it I get all tongue-tied and end up stuttering.
I was wondering if I could use your name instead of mine.”
“How many other people have you called regarding this Jack?”
“Shit. I dunno. “You’re about #236 I think”
“So let me guess. The reason you’re calling me is that all of them told you to jump into the lake. Right?”
“Shit and fall back in it. That’s right!”, replies Jack.
“What gives you the idea I want my name being used like that? Besides, it doesn’t quite have the same catchy chutzpa to it. Does it Jack?
Look..Jack. Have any of the other 235 people you’ve called made any suggestions? “
“Shit yes they have, but I don’t like them. I want to have something catchy to say when I’m speaking to someone who I consider an ignoramus. Comebacks like: Up yours you shit know-nothing’ pile of mother loving garbage is a little over the top. Shit! I need something with a punch, yet subtle like… You don’t know Jack Shit. “
“Well Jack lets give this a think. Have you considered changing it up a bit, saying the same thing in a foreign language or accent? Maybe that would work for you. Here, lets try a few.
German: Dumkopf! Sie wissen nicht Jack Shise.
French: Vous ne connaissez pa Jacque merde.
Or my personal favorite:
Spanish: Chew donno Chack Chit Mon.
Do any of those yank your chain Jack? “
“I sort of like the Spanish one. The other two aren’t worth a shit as far as I’m concerned. “
“Well, why not live with it for a while. Roll it around. Try it on for a few days and it may get comfy for you.”
“Chew donno Jhack Chit. Chudunno Chack Chit. Chew dunnoChackChit. ChewdunnoJackChit. “Shithousemouse! It’s starting to feel good already. It’s sort of like this guy Chack Chit is a different person but with the same flow. Shit! I think I’m going to like it. Let me loosen up a little. Chackchackchackchack …chit chit chitchitchitchitchit.
“Yeah! I like this shit. This is the shit that will keep me singing like a little shitty songbird. ChewdunnoChackChitChewdunnoChackChit..ChitChitChitChitChit. It certainly does have that shitty little ring to it. “
“Do you mind me asking who gave you your name Jack? “
“For some odd reason lots of people ask me that. My father’s name was Shitbird, coincidentally; my mother, a native of Senegal ; her first name was Shitngit. Pop named his string of drive-in pay toilets after her. Pop had his last name officially changed to Shit. . His brother followed suit. His first name is Giva, and his wife Aunt Olivia we call her ‘O’ for short, had the twins, Holly and Alotta. Alotta was her middle name, which she preferred. Her first name was Tots. When Baby Shit arrived unexpectedly all Mom would say was “Shit happens”. I think Mom’s name has a nice rhythm to it don’t you? Shitngit Shit from Senegal. I had a pretty good childhood. First of all we lived in a shithole, my grandparents affectionately called it the Shitshack, my parents treated me like shit, my mothers cooking tasted like shit and ironically we didn’t even have indoor plumbing. Pop was a bit of a tightwad and had one of his pay toilets installed outback.He wanted me to go into the family business with him, but I cut out and started my own septic tank pumping business. You've heard of Shitsuckers Inc? That's me. Yeah! That’s a rundown on the name but what is still a mystery to me is how it came to be associated with people who don’t know shit. I suppose if they don't know anyone in my family then they really don't know Shit. In that case shouldn't it be: 'You don't know Shit; rather than me personally? “
“ I wish I could tell you Jack. It was good talking to you. If there is anything else I can help you with just give me a ring. You were a great help to me also. Now I can tell anyone accuses me of not knowing you that I do indeed know Jack Shit.”
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Sunday, October 25, 2009
More Famous Sayings Explored
Famous Sayings Explained
You don’t know jack shit.
Where it originated is still a mystery. The saying implies that one should know Jack Shit to be accepted in present company. If that is true Jack Shit must have been a real person, a person of some distinction because it was obviously prestigious to know him. A cursory glance in whitepages .com reveals a Kim Shit in Norwalk California and a Beverly in Torrance, and even a Shitjing Ho in San Jose, but no Jack. Even so, I wonder if he was a foreigner. Maybe his first name was Jacque. That would place him either in Europe, Quebec or a French providence. Finding the real deal could turn out to be a chore.
So we have established that there actually are people whose last name is Shit, but we can only guess where the expression came from. What if someone called you one day and said, “Hello, I would like to formally introduce myself. My name is Jack Shit”. I don’t know about you but I’m pretty sure of my reaction to be one of disbelief.
Consider the following scenario.
“I don’t know Jack Shit”. I would probably answer.
That’s right Sir. You don’t know me but I know you. My name has become something a common saying for people synomous of ignorance. The problem arises when I want to use the expression.
“I can’t really use the expression because they are indeed speaking to Jack Shit, and the expression: “You don’t know Jack Shit just doesn’t fit in that case, does it”. When I feel like saying it I get all tongue-tied and end up stuttering.
I was wondering if I could use your name instead of mine.”
“How many other people have you called regarding this Jack?”
“Shit. I dunno. “You’re about #236 I think”
“So let me guess. The reason you’re calling me is that all of them told you to jump into the lake. Right?”
“Shit and fall back in it. That’s right!”, replies Jack.
“What gives you the idea I want my name being used like that? Besides, it doesn’t quite have the same catchy chutzpa to it. Does it Jack?
Look..Jack. Have any of the other 235 people you’ve called made any suggestions? “
“Shit yes they have, but I don’t like them. I want to have something catchy to say when I’m speaking to someone who I consider an ignoramus. Comebacks like: Up yours you shit know-nothing’ pile of mother loving garbage is a little over the top. Shit! I need something with a punch, yet subtle like… You don’t know Jack Shit. “
“Well Jack lets give this a think. Have you considered changing it up a bit, saying the same thing in a foreign language or accent? Maybe that would work for you. Here, lets try a few.
German: Dumkopf! Sie wissen nicht Jack Shise.
French: Vous ne connaissez pa Jacque merde.
Or my personal favorite:
Spanish: Chew donno Jhack Chit Mon.
Do any of those yank your chain Jack? “
“I sort of like the Spanish one. The other two aren’t worth a shit as far as I’m concerned. “
“Well, why not live with it for a while. Roll it around. Try it on for a few days and it may get comfy for you.”
“Chew donno Jhack Chit. Chudunno Chack Chit. Chew dunnoChackChit. ChewdunnoJackChit. “Shithousemouse! It’s starting to feel good already. It’s sort of like this guy Chack Chit is a different person but with the same flow. Shit! I think I’m going to like it. Let me loosen up a little. Chackchackchackchack …chit chit chitchitchitchitchit.
“Yeah! I like this shit. This is the shit that will keep me singing like a little shitty songbird. ChewdunnoChackChitChewdunnoChackChit..ChitChitChitChitChit. It certainly does have that shitty little ring to it. “
“Do you mind me asking who gave you your name Jack? “
“For some odd reason lots of people ask me that. My father’s name was Shitbird, coincidentally; my mother, a native of Senegal ; her first name was Shitngit. Pop named his string of drive-in pay toilets after her. Pop had his last name officially changed to Shit. . His brother followed suit. His first name is Giva, and his wife Aunt Olivia we call her ‘O’ for short, had the twins, Holly and Alotta. Alotta was her middle name, which she preferred. Her first name was Tots. When Baby Shit arrived unexpectedly all Mom would say was “Shit happens”. I think Mom’s name has a nice rhythm to it don’t you? Shitngit Shit from Senegal. I had a pretty good childhood. First of all we lived in a shithole, my grandparents affectionately called it the Shitshack, my parents treated me like shit, my mothers cooking tasted like shit and ironically we didn’t even have indoor plumbing. Pop was a bit of a tightwad and had one of his pay toilets installed outback.He wanted me to go into the family business with him, but I cut out and started my own septic tank pumping business. You've heard of Shitsuckers Inc? That's me. Yeah! That’s a rundown on the name but what is still a mystery to me is how it came to be associated with people who don’t know shit. I suppose if they don't know anyone in my family then they really don't know Shit. In that case shouldn't it be: 'You don't know Shit; rather than me personally? “
“ I wish I could tell you Jack. It was good talking to you. If there is anything else I can help you with just give me a ring. You were a great help to me also. Now I can tell anyone accuses me of not knowing you that I do indeed know Jack Shit.”
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You don’t know jack shit.
Where it originated is still a mystery. The saying implies that one should know Jack Shit to be accepted in present company. If that is true Jack Shit must have been a real person, a person of some distinction because it was obviously prestigious to know him. A cursory glance in whitepages .com reveals a Kim Shit in Norwalk California and a Beverly in Torrance, and even a Shitjing Ho in San Jose, but no Jack. Even so, I wonder if he was a foreigner. Maybe his first name was Jacque. That would place him either in Europe, Quebec or a French providence. Finding the real deal could turn out to be a chore.
So we have established that there actually are people whose last name is Shit, but we can only guess where the expression came from. What if someone called you one day and said, “Hello, I would like to formally introduce myself. My name is Jack Shit”. I don’t know about you but I’m pretty sure of my reaction to be one of disbelief.
Consider the following scenario.
“I don’t know Jack Shit”. I would probably answer.
That’s right Sir. You don’t know me but I know you. My name has become something a common saying for people synomous of ignorance. The problem arises when I want to use the expression.
“I can’t really use the expression because they are indeed speaking to Jack Shit, and the expression: “You don’t know Jack Shit just doesn’t fit in that case, does it”. When I feel like saying it I get all tongue-tied and end up stuttering.
I was wondering if I could use your name instead of mine.”
“How many other people have you called regarding this Jack?”
“Shit. I dunno. “You’re about #236 I think”
“So let me guess. The reason you’re calling me is that all of them told you to jump into the lake. Right?”
“Shit and fall back in it. That’s right!”, replies Jack.
“What gives you the idea I want my name being used like that? Besides, it doesn’t quite have the same catchy chutzpa to it. Does it Jack?
Look..Jack. Have any of the other 235 people you’ve called made any suggestions? “
“Shit yes they have, but I don’t like them. I want to have something catchy to say when I’m speaking to someone who I consider an ignoramus. Comebacks like: Up yours you shit know-nothing’ pile of mother loving garbage is a little over the top. Shit! I need something with a punch, yet subtle like… You don’t know Jack Shit. “
“Well Jack lets give this a think. Have you considered changing it up a bit, saying the same thing in a foreign language or accent? Maybe that would work for you. Here, lets try a few.
German: Dumkopf! Sie wissen nicht Jack Shise.
French: Vous ne connaissez pa Jacque merde.
Or my personal favorite:
Spanish: Chew donno Jhack Chit Mon.
Do any of those yank your chain Jack? “
“I sort of like the Spanish one. The other two aren’t worth a shit as far as I’m concerned. “
“Well, why not live with it for a while. Roll it around. Try it on for a few days and it may get comfy for you.”
“Chew donno Jhack Chit. Chudunno Chack Chit. Chew dunnoChackChit. ChewdunnoJackChit. “Shithousemouse! It’s starting to feel good already. It’s sort of like this guy Chack Chit is a different person but with the same flow. Shit! I think I’m going to like it. Let me loosen up a little. Chackchackchackchack …chit chit chitchitchitchitchit.
“Yeah! I like this shit. This is the shit that will keep me singing like a little shitty songbird. ChewdunnoChackChitChewdunnoChackChit..ChitChitChitChitChit. It certainly does have that shitty little ring to it. “
“Do you mind me asking who gave you your name Jack? “
“For some odd reason lots of people ask me that. My father’s name was Shitbird, coincidentally; my mother, a native of Senegal ; her first name was Shitngit. Pop named his string of drive-in pay toilets after her. Pop had his last name officially changed to Shit. . His brother followed suit. His first name is Giva, and his wife Aunt Olivia we call her ‘O’ for short, had the twins, Holly and Alotta. Alotta was her middle name, which she preferred. Her first name was Tots. When Baby Shit arrived unexpectedly all Mom would say was “Shit happens”. I think Mom’s name has a nice rhythm to it don’t you? Shitngit Shit from Senegal. I had a pretty good childhood. First of all we lived in a shithole, my grandparents affectionately called it the Shitshack, my parents treated me like shit, my mothers cooking tasted like shit and ironically we didn’t even have indoor plumbing. Pop was a bit of a tightwad and had one of his pay toilets installed outback.He wanted me to go into the family business with him, but I cut out and started my own septic tank pumping business. You've heard of Shitsuckers Inc? That's me. Yeah! That’s a rundown on the name but what is still a mystery to me is how it came to be associated with people who don’t know shit. I suppose if they don't know anyone in my family then they really don't know Shit. In that case shouldn't it be: 'You don't know Shit; rather than me personally? “
“ I wish I could tell you Jack. It was good talking to you. If there is anything else I can help you with just give me a ring. You were a great help to me also. Now I can tell anyone accuses me of not knowing you that I do indeed know Jack Shit.”
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Sunday, October 11, 2009
No More Daddy
No More Daddy
They were 14 and 16 when I moved out. They naturally sided with Mom. Their young minds swayed to her side by years of conditioning. To mask their confusion they pretended animosity. They were confused. Marriage is supposed to be forever, dreams shattered in their youth. Primal fear on their faces. What to do? Side with Mom. It must have been his fault, just like she says. Already learning to project blame. Men take up the slack by agreeing and swallowing the pain. “What did I do” to deserve opening the door one day and being served with divorce papers? Who knows? Someday they will grow up and realize they miss their father. Thought about how to get him back after chasing him away. What to do? Stuck with Mom. She’s no fun like Dad used to be. He liked to take us places. Somewhere where we didn’t have to stand in line. He hated standing in line. He hated games. Except Monopoly. Did we really enjoy them all that much without him? He took us skiing, to England, to Cozomel. She claims credit but it was always on him. Just like the pool: 'The family can't afford this' so it was up to him.Later finding out she was padding her IRA with money the family 'couldn't afford'. Travelling is fun. We are now old enough to wander beyond the gift shops but its too late. At our early youth its already too late. He is no longer part of us—the family—with Mom. Who are we without a male model, without our Dad. Our uncles? Ok...
Halloween is coming up. His favorite holiday. Mom taught it was evil when it is only a celebration of harvest time. It was Dad’s favorite holiday. He looked forward in dressing up and answering the door with a basket of candy. He loved seeing those little kids showing up, baskets opened, waiting for that special surprise, parents ever watchful in the distance. He loves Halloween. It’s a celebration of kids. The best holiday of the year. To him it was a celebration of life. He once got married on Halloween, to the woman he truly loved, but threw away. How does it feel Dad? You deserved what we did to you, just like you did to her. No wonder Mom hated you. There was always the never mentioned but always mommy awared ‘Her’. But ‘Her’ was nothing more than a never mentioned memory, but still—she was there. O yes Judy. You, the memory of you will always be there. THERE! A throwayway, a rebound. The best kind of find but seldom appreciated only to be tossed away again by another unappreciating one. Shame! Not to appreciate your positive attitude. Shame! Not to appreciate your people skills. Shame! Not to appreciate your unassuming outlook and innocent smile. Shame! For not recognizing you for wisdom beyond your years and for the jewel you were. Shame! For not recognizing true love staring me in the face. Shame on me. I deserve everything the Slaybaugh can dish out for that.
To know how that feels? Horrible, but how was I to know Judy? How badly I would hurt you. Years after After I aborted our baby and lost you I always wanted two girls to love, maybe to take your place. You have to watch out what you wish for. A lady once said to me: ‘Do you have any kids’ to my ‘No’ response she replied? ‘Well you are missing out on a lot of joy and a lot of pain.’ Oh Missy!’ Bitter medicine indeed.
They were 14 and 16 when I moved out. They naturally sided with Mom. Their young minds swayed to her side by years of conditioning. To mask their confusion they pretended animosity. They were confused. Marriage is supposed to be forever, dreams shattered in their youth. Primal fear on their faces. What to do? Side with Mom. It must have been his fault, just like she says. Already learning to project blame. Men take up the slack by agreeing and swallowing the pain. “What did I do” to deserve opening the door one day and being served with divorce papers? Who knows? Someday they will grow up and realize they miss their father. Thought about how to get him back after chasing him away. What to do? Stuck with Mom. She’s no fun like Dad used to be. He liked to take us places. Somewhere where we didn’t have to stand in line. He hated standing in line. He hated games. Except Monopoly. Did we really enjoy them all that much without him? He took us skiing, to England, to Cozomel. She claims credit but it was always on him. Just like the pool: 'The family can't afford this' so it was up to him.Later finding out she was padding her IRA with money the family 'couldn't afford'. Travelling is fun. We are now old enough to wander beyond the gift shops but its too late. At our early youth its already too late. He is no longer part of us—the family—with Mom. Who are we without a male model, without our Dad. Our uncles? Ok...
Halloween is coming up. His favorite holiday. Mom taught it was evil when it is only a celebration of harvest time. It was Dad’s favorite holiday. He looked forward in dressing up and answering the door with a basket of candy. He loved seeing those little kids showing up, baskets opened, waiting for that special surprise, parents ever watchful in the distance. He loves Halloween. It’s a celebration of kids. The best holiday of the year. To him it was a celebration of life. He once got married on Halloween, to the woman he truly loved, but threw away. How does it feel Dad? You deserved what we did to you, just like you did to her. No wonder Mom hated you. There was always the never mentioned but always mommy awared ‘Her’. But ‘Her’ was nothing more than a never mentioned memory, but still—she was there. O yes Judy. You, the memory of you will always be there. THERE! A throwayway, a rebound. The best kind of find but seldom appreciated only to be tossed away again by another unappreciating one. Shame! Not to appreciate your positive attitude. Shame! Not to appreciate your people skills. Shame! Not to appreciate your unassuming outlook and innocent smile. Shame! For not recognizing you for wisdom beyond your years and for the jewel you were. Shame! For not recognizing true love staring me in the face. Shame on me. I deserve everything the Slaybaugh can dish out for that.
To know how that feels? Horrible, but how was I to know Judy? How badly I would hurt you. Years after After I aborted our baby and lost you I always wanted two girls to love, maybe to take your place. You have to watch out what you wish for. A lady once said to me: ‘Do you have any kids’ to my ‘No’ response she replied? ‘Well you are missing out on a lot of joy and a lot of pain.’ Oh Missy!’ Bitter medicine indeed.
Friday, October 2, 2009
I have Figured out the Lord
I have figured out the Lord’s plan. By my reckoning he has me planned to depart this Earth sometime in December 2009. There are a couple of thoughts, suppositions if you will, that have brought me to this conclusion. First of all He has always been forgiving to me. I was spared having to fight in a ground war. To this day I have never had an auto accident. Ok. One at 5mph when I was 18. I have been in some dangerous jobs in dangerous places but always emerged physically and mentally intact; like the summer I was logging in Oregon. A log broke loose and started down the hill after me. I heard it behind me and glanced back to explore my options. No options, just the log inexorably crashing toward me. I wasn’t going to get around that ugly heaving monster, 2 1/2/ft thick and 35 ft long. Seconds before it was to hit me I dove desperately down the mountain, turning a forward summersalt and landing on my back exactly in a depression in the earth just wide and long enough to accommodate my body. I laid there, eyes open and watched it thunder over me. Fortunately there was not a broken branch stub on the log at my position. Had there been it would have reached down in my hole, stabbed me, jerked me out of my hole and either thrown me down the mountain or held me bent around itself as it steamed toward the creek. Lucky? No one gets lucky as many times as I have.
My medical care has always been available and first rate, even when living in foreign countries. I had Scarlet Fever, phemonia a number of times and a couple of cracked skulls, not to mention a lung embolism, all of which were ably nurtured by competent medical staff. I have committed some despicable acts and got away with them. Others are sitting in jail for the same offenses against society. I have had a relatively easy life in spite of making some horrendous mistakes outside of frequently providing Him with downright outrageous behavior. Not that he hasn’t used my sins as righteous justification to do with me as he will and I have come to the conclusion that such is the case. In more ways than not I do not share mental or physical or emotional baggage carried, usually through no fault of their own, by others. I believe his plan for me has been to further the spiritual and earthly progress of others less fortunate. Lending veracity to this thought is the feeling that I am doing these things that benefit others through no outright intentions of my own. Right now I’m diligently working for St. Jude’s Children’s Hospital. In February of this year He released me from my job as caregiver to my wife, a woman with mysterious problems who had me questioning her odd behavior without any explanation. After 17 years of faithful provider and reliant father I answered the door and was served with divorce papers. “Ok. My job there is done”, think.. Wify as I liked to call her has what my research has revealed to be “BPS”. Borderline Personality Syndrome. I saw it on “48 Hours” at first. The illness occurs in women 80% of the time. As they described the symptoms it became more and more evident to me that they were what I had been putting up with for the past 17 years with Wifey. Unexplained mood swings, tendency to project fault, low self image, overly aggressive behavior, taking offense and going on the attack for the slightest excuse, needless jealousy and possessivness. She came from a seemingly uneventful and normal childhood, but carried this baggage. She was suffering. She also has faith in the Lord. " Hmmm "ponders the Lord, then here comes Chuck waddling down the road. I really do believe the Lord sent me to her to share her burden and provide her with a scape goat, a landing pad if you will. Considering my previous disgraceful behavior, it would not be outside of logical reasoning to suppose I deserved anything better. Fast forward 17 years, Wifey secure in her house that we built with my fathers inheritance it was time to move me on to bigger things. Besides, worthless as he figures I was, He probably thought I had suffered enough. I also think I got time off for good behavior so February 18, 2009 I answered the door and there He was, sans beard, thinly disguised as a deputy sheriff serving me divorce papers. Besides the court order freezing my assets, it also ordered me to move out. “Enjoy your 4 walls” she said as I left my family and moved into a ready made little apartment at a reasonable rent somehow conveniently available. Its so obvious to me that my life isn't anything but planned. I play golf occasionally and ride my Harley, and think of going on a vacation, but the thought of spending money, for some odd reason, appals me. It then occurred to me to change my benefits package which was customized for the family to one just for me. I cannot change the life insurance amount but once a year, but I can change the beneficiary, which I did. The remainder of the package is allowed to be changed in October, but not effective till Jan 1st. I will change it in October. That means there will be $120k life insurance going to St. Jude’s Hospital if I kick off before January. Plus I’m saving another $3000 per month which will also go to St. Jude’s. In order to max out the benefit to God’s children he will have to bring me home before the life insurance cancels out in January. That means I will be joining my parents and two siblings in December. Preferably before Christmas. I hope so because I don’t like spending Christmas alone.
I won't be leaving any debt behind except the bill my lawyer sent me. I hired her to see me through this divorce and I'm still married so I've decided not to pay her. Now that I have willed my entire estate to St. Jude's Childrens Hospital she will have to sue them to collect. Being a lawyer that probably won't bother her much.
My medical care has always been available and first rate, even when living in foreign countries. I had Scarlet Fever, phemonia a number of times and a couple of cracked skulls, not to mention a lung embolism, all of which were ably nurtured by competent medical staff. I have committed some despicable acts and got away with them. Others are sitting in jail for the same offenses against society. I have had a relatively easy life in spite of making some horrendous mistakes outside of frequently providing Him with downright outrageous behavior. Not that he hasn’t used my sins as righteous justification to do with me as he will and I have come to the conclusion that such is the case. In more ways than not I do not share mental or physical or emotional baggage carried, usually through no fault of their own, by others. I believe his plan for me has been to further the spiritual and earthly progress of others less fortunate. Lending veracity to this thought is the feeling that I am doing these things that benefit others through no outright intentions of my own. Right now I’m diligently working for St. Jude’s Children’s Hospital. In February of this year He released me from my job as caregiver to my wife, a woman with mysterious problems who had me questioning her odd behavior without any explanation. After 17 years of faithful provider and reliant father I answered the door and was served with divorce papers. “Ok. My job there is done”, think.. Wify as I liked to call her has what my research has revealed to be “BPS”. Borderline Personality Syndrome. I saw it on “48 Hours” at first. The illness occurs in women 80% of the time. As they described the symptoms it became more and more evident to me that they were what I had been putting up with for the past 17 years with Wifey. Unexplained mood swings, tendency to project fault, low self image, overly aggressive behavior, taking offense and going on the attack for the slightest excuse, needless jealousy and possessivness. She came from a seemingly uneventful and normal childhood, but carried this baggage. She was suffering. She also has faith in the Lord. " Hmmm "ponders the Lord, then here comes Chuck waddling down the road. I really do believe the Lord sent me to her to share her burden and provide her with a scape goat, a landing pad if you will. Considering my previous disgraceful behavior, it would not be outside of logical reasoning to suppose I deserved anything better. Fast forward 17 years, Wifey secure in her house that we built with my fathers inheritance it was time to move me on to bigger things. Besides, worthless as he figures I was, He probably thought I had suffered enough. I also think I got time off for good behavior so February 18, 2009 I answered the door and there He was, sans beard, thinly disguised as a deputy sheriff serving me divorce papers. Besides the court order freezing my assets, it also ordered me to move out. “Enjoy your 4 walls” she said as I left my family and moved into a ready made little apartment at a reasonable rent somehow conveniently available. Its so obvious to me that my life isn't anything but planned. I play golf occasionally and ride my Harley, and think of going on a vacation, but the thought of spending money, for some odd reason, appals me. It then occurred to me to change my benefits package which was customized for the family to one just for me. I cannot change the life insurance amount but once a year, but I can change the beneficiary, which I did. The remainder of the package is allowed to be changed in October, but not effective till Jan 1st. I will change it in October. That means there will be $120k life insurance going to St. Jude’s Hospital if I kick off before January. Plus I’m saving another $3000 per month which will also go to St. Jude’s. In order to max out the benefit to God’s children he will have to bring me home before the life insurance cancels out in January. That means I will be joining my parents and two siblings in December. Preferably before Christmas. I hope so because I don’t like spending Christmas alone.
I won't be leaving any debt behind except the bill my lawyer sent me. I hired her to see me through this divorce and I'm still married so I've decided not to pay her. Now that I have willed my entire estate to St. Jude's Childrens Hospital she will have to sue them to collect. Being a lawyer that probably won't bother her much.
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Did it Never Rain?
Did it never rain?
For the past 18 years I've been sitting in church listening to self-professed Bible 'know-it-alls' ranting about among other things how the Earth, The Blue Marble, cannot be more than 6000 years old. In addition I sat there open mouthed listening to them say that it never rained before Noah's time on Earth. The entire congregation agreeably nodding their heads up and down shouting: "PREACH!" and "AMEN TO THAT BROTHER except for me, thinking "SHADDAP" ...and "BULLSHIT!"
No rain. Lets give that a think. The atmosphere, the stuff in which we breathe and live in is made up of 5 layers decreasing in temperature from the surface to the exosphere, the layer closest to outer space. On an ideal day the temperature decreases from 59 degrees F on the surface, 3.5 degrees F every 1000 ft. Doing the math at some point up there in the first layer, the troposphere, water vapor hits its dew point and becomes visible. It was never explained to me from the pulpit what they may have called that visible moisture back then. Today we call it a cloud. We know as a fact that without clouds there cannot be any rain. It now follows that we can safely say, if what I've been listening to for 18 years is true, that there were no clouds before Noah.
If there were no clouds then how can it be that water never reached that level in the atmosphere; the height at which water vapor becomes visible? Evaporation never existed? or there were no large bodies of water to evaporate. Without evaporation air conditioning didn't exist. Now there is something that I can believe because I lived as a child without airconditioning because it wasn't invented yet and believe me it was heck on Earth. I digress.
Without evaporation it is believable that there could have been large bodies of water on Earth. They simply defied Gods laws of physics and never evaporated. There are two possibilities here: No evaporation or no large bodies of water i.e. oceans.
First lets explore the evaporation angle. No evaporation meant that no one worked and we know that's not true because God said they would have to earn their keep by( dare I say it? "The sweat of their brow") working as he was kicking their disobedient butts out of Paradise, or if they did the Earth was so cold that they couldn't sweat. Lets follow that for a minute. So it was Paradise on Earth in Eden, but just outside: Ice Age? Sweat is what keeps the body cool. When water evaporates it absorbs heat. Its called the latent heat of evaporation. By sweating a person's surface temperature is cooled by the sweat evaporating and carrying away heat with it from the body surface. So lets say the Earth was covered with ice and everyone toiled on the ice without sweating. Ice Age. That's a fact isn't it? So now here is Noah's ancestors toiling away doing what ever they did then to stay vertical. Somewhere they must have had shelter from the elements, caves, igloos..whatever. Its a safe bet that necessity being the mother of invention, someone invented fire. Noah's grand dad to Noah's grand mom. "Hon, that fire is awfully hot in here and its making my clothes wet. Can you crank it down a log or two or I'm gonna have to take some clothes off 'cause Baby its just too damned hot in here."
At some point in all those thousands of years between Adam and Noah someone must have got, somehow, overheated. Were the pulpit people actually saying to me that no one ever got over heated for some reason or another? Even by following Gods orders of going forth and populating the Earth, by making little cavepersons? I know for a fact that people can get over heated making little cavepersons. I got all sweaty in a dugout once on a hot night..never mind. So instead of cooling the body by sweating they had to run outside and jump in the snow? What a bummer that must have been.
Now the no large bodies of water to evaporate tack: No oceans. Duh? No fish. No fish, no fishing, no boats, no swimming, no diving... this is beginning to sound like a lifeguard sign at a military recreation area. Back to no fish. What did our ancestors live on? Ice Age so no veggies. Polar bears? What did they eat? Seals who hadn't learned to eat fish yet because there were no oceans or didn't know how to swim because..fill in the blanks yourself.
So logically there had to be oceans. Without oceans there is no life. Man is 70% water and 30% bullcrap. Except for pulpit preachers insisting that it never rained before Noah. They are indeed unique among men: 0% water and 100% bullcrap.
For the past 18 years I've been sitting in church listening to self-professed Bible 'know-it-alls' ranting about among other things how the Earth, The Blue Marble, cannot be more than 6000 years old. In addition I sat there open mouthed listening to them say that it never rained before Noah's time on Earth. The entire congregation agreeably nodding their heads up and down shouting: "PREACH!" and "AMEN TO THAT BROTHER except for me, thinking "SHADDAP" ...and "BULLSHIT!"
No rain. Lets give that a think. The atmosphere, the stuff in which we breathe and live in is made up of 5 layers decreasing in temperature from the surface to the exosphere, the layer closest to outer space. On an ideal day the temperature decreases from 59 degrees F on the surface, 3.5 degrees F every 1000 ft. Doing the math at some point up there in the first layer, the troposphere, water vapor hits its dew point and becomes visible. It was never explained to me from the pulpit what they may have called that visible moisture back then. Today we call it a cloud. We know as a fact that without clouds there cannot be any rain. It now follows that we can safely say, if what I've been listening to for 18 years is true, that there were no clouds before Noah.
If there were no clouds then how can it be that water never reached that level in the atmosphere; the height at which water vapor becomes visible? Evaporation never existed? or there were no large bodies of water to evaporate. Without evaporation air conditioning didn't exist. Now there is something that I can believe because I lived as a child without airconditioning because it wasn't invented yet and believe me it was heck on Earth. I digress.
Without evaporation it is believable that there could have been large bodies of water on Earth. They simply defied Gods laws of physics and never evaporated. There are two possibilities here: No evaporation or no large bodies of water i.e. oceans.
First lets explore the evaporation angle. No evaporation meant that no one worked and we know that's not true because God said they would have to earn their keep by( dare I say it? "The sweat of their brow") working as he was kicking their disobedient butts out of Paradise, or if they did the Earth was so cold that they couldn't sweat. Lets follow that for a minute. So it was Paradise on Earth in Eden, but just outside: Ice Age? Sweat is what keeps the body cool. When water evaporates it absorbs heat. Its called the latent heat of evaporation. By sweating a person's surface temperature is cooled by the sweat evaporating and carrying away heat with it from the body surface. So lets say the Earth was covered with ice and everyone toiled on the ice without sweating. Ice Age. That's a fact isn't it? So now here is Noah's ancestors toiling away doing what ever they did then to stay vertical. Somewhere they must have had shelter from the elements, caves, igloos..whatever. Its a safe bet that necessity being the mother of invention, someone invented fire. Noah's grand dad to Noah's grand mom. "Hon, that fire is awfully hot in here and its making my clothes wet. Can you crank it down a log or two or I'm gonna have to take some clothes off 'cause Baby its just too damned hot in here."
At some point in all those thousands of years between Adam and Noah someone must have got, somehow, overheated. Were the pulpit people actually saying to me that no one ever got over heated for some reason or another? Even by following Gods orders of going forth and populating the Earth, by making little cavepersons? I know for a fact that people can get over heated making little cavepersons. I got all sweaty in a dugout once on a hot night..never mind. So instead of cooling the body by sweating they had to run outside and jump in the snow? What a bummer that must have been.
Now the no large bodies of water to evaporate tack: No oceans. Duh? No fish. No fish, no fishing, no boats, no swimming, no diving... this is beginning to sound like a lifeguard sign at a military recreation area. Back to no fish. What did our ancestors live on? Ice Age so no veggies. Polar bears? What did they eat? Seals who hadn't learned to eat fish yet because there were no oceans or didn't know how to swim because..fill in the blanks yourself.
So logically there had to be oceans. Without oceans there is no life. Man is 70% water and 30% bullcrap. Except for pulpit preachers insisting that it never rained before Noah. They are indeed unique among men: 0% water and 100% bullcrap.
Shit Hot
The origin of the saying is unknown, but merits pondering.. Early man would have noticed that his/her feces was only body temperature and not actually hot so the saying probably didn’t come from him. No, with one exceptional possibility, the saying most certainly must have come into existence after the invention of fire.
Adam and Eve probably didn’t invent fire nor was it in existence in the Garden or shortly after they got kicked out. Now consider this. Adam takes a dump on a flat rock one hot summer day. Leaves to attend to his nashing of teeth. Eve happens by to see steam hissing from Adam’s sun hot leavings. Eve very well may have been the World’s first pervert. I mean there are people who get turned on by feces and their lineage certainly leads back to the Original Aboriginals. Here is the possibility of not only the beginnings of vocal communication but indeed, the first words. Eve points at the steaming pile whilst enthusiastically yelling in her Neanderthal Mid-Eastern dialect: “Shiia tot!”, loosely mimicking the sound of the steam, hissing and popping on the hot rock. It logically follows that after a few generations of Eve screwing all her relatives that ‘Shiia tot’ could have possibly evolved to Shit Hot.
That considered lets move on. Suppose there were no really hot days back then. Under that supposition we must conclude that the expression emerged after Adam’s time. Sometime between Adam and Noah, fire must surely have been discovered. We are talking a lot of time here because by the time Noah shows up the Earth is covered with animals and people who still don’t know how to act with God in process of ending their days, and he did say that the next time he destroys the Earth he will do it with fire. Noah most certainly must have known about fire because he would have had to use pitch to seal his boat and pitch is heated tar. Now there’s a thought. Would he actually have called it pitch or tar? Back then he may not have had a word for pitch just like Eve’s bewilderment with Adams steaming pile. What use would there have been for the sticky stuff? No one else had boats because according to the fundamental interpretation of the Bible, it had never rained so there was little use for a water sealant such as tar. (No rain means no large bodies of water to evaporate or contrary to the laws of physics: no evaporation. Lets think that one through in another tome.)Now Noah is building a giant boat and sealing it with his unknown sticky stuff. For lack of a better utterance did he call it shit? Picture Noah returning from lunch one day and vaguely pondering a long-forgotten word , asks his kids, who he had tasked with heating the pitch : Shit hot? This makes sense because the hot pitch is a good thing. It means that it is ready to pour in the seams between the planks of the boat. What would their answer be? No Pop, Shit cold? Noah would have interpreted that as either a typical teen-age sarcastic response, or they hadn’t been attending to the task he had set before them before leaving for lunch. Shit cold never made it into the lexicon so chances are they responded enthusiastically: “Shit Hot!”
This could have caught on quickly because the sooner the tar was ready the sooner they would leave for lunch. No there was obviously no money in Shit Cold. Shit Hot became the call sign for success. There is a remote possibility that pitch and shit came to be used interchangeably. FF to two nerd engineers and like all nerds realize they are such but can barely help themselves. “Jeepers Herby. Your warp speed idea is really swell..er shit hot. Lets pitch it to the boss.” The boss has three ways to respond: “Rootie Kazootie fellas! This idea of your is really swell..er I mean Shit Hot! or Are you shitting me a load of pitch? Or pitching me a load of shit?” Either way this “shit hot” idea of yours will never fly.” From boiling tar to manufacturing Jet airplanes, shit hot has survived as a graphic description of something exciting.
Adam and Eve probably didn’t invent fire nor was it in existence in the Garden or shortly after they got kicked out. Now consider this. Adam takes a dump on a flat rock one hot summer day. Leaves to attend to his nashing of teeth. Eve happens by to see steam hissing from Adam’s sun hot leavings. Eve very well may have been the World’s first pervert. I mean there are people who get turned on by feces and their lineage certainly leads back to the Original Aboriginals. Here is the possibility of not only the beginnings of vocal communication but indeed, the first words. Eve points at the steaming pile whilst enthusiastically yelling in her Neanderthal Mid-Eastern dialect: “Shiia tot!”, loosely mimicking the sound of the steam, hissing and popping on the hot rock. It logically follows that after a few generations of Eve screwing all her relatives that ‘Shiia tot’ could have possibly evolved to Shit Hot.
That considered lets move on. Suppose there were no really hot days back then. Under that supposition we must conclude that the expression emerged after Adam’s time. Sometime between Adam and Noah, fire must surely have been discovered. We are talking a lot of time here because by the time Noah shows up the Earth is covered with animals and people who still don’t know how to act with God in process of ending their days, and he did say that the next time he destroys the Earth he will do it with fire. Noah most certainly must have known about fire because he would have had to use pitch to seal his boat and pitch is heated tar. Now there’s a thought. Would he actually have called it pitch or tar? Back then he may not have had a word for pitch just like Eve’s bewilderment with Adams steaming pile. What use would there have been for the sticky stuff? No one else had boats because according to the fundamental interpretation of the Bible, it had never rained so there was little use for a water sealant such as tar. (No rain means no large bodies of water to evaporate or contrary to the laws of physics: no evaporation. Lets think that one through in another tome.)Now Noah is building a giant boat and sealing it with his unknown sticky stuff. For lack of a better utterance did he call it shit? Picture Noah returning from lunch one day and vaguely pondering a long-forgotten word , asks his kids, who he had tasked with heating the pitch : Shit hot? This makes sense because the hot pitch is a good thing. It means that it is ready to pour in the seams between the planks of the boat. What would their answer be? No Pop, Shit cold? Noah would have interpreted that as either a typical teen-age sarcastic response, or they hadn’t been attending to the task he had set before them before leaving for lunch. Shit cold never made it into the lexicon so chances are they responded enthusiastically: “Shit Hot!”
This could have caught on quickly because the sooner the tar was ready the sooner they would leave for lunch. No there was obviously no money in Shit Cold. Shit Hot became the call sign for success. There is a remote possibility that pitch and shit came to be used interchangeably. FF to two nerd engineers and like all nerds realize they are such but can barely help themselves. “Jeepers Herby. Your warp speed idea is really swell..er shit hot. Lets pitch it to the boss.” The boss has three ways to respond: “Rootie Kazootie fellas! This idea of your is really swell..er I mean Shit Hot! or Are you shitting me a load of pitch? Or pitching me a load of shit?” Either way this “shit hot” idea of yours will never fly.” From boiling tar to manufacturing Jet airplanes, shit hot has survived as a graphic description of something exciting.
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