Quantum English

Someone once said that if you use bad grammar it's kind of like having bad breath - you can say all sorts of  intelligent things but no one is going to take you seriously. You can gargle and chew gum for your breath, but if you're grammatically illiterate, until now there was no easy solution. Luckily for you, in this modern age of instant communion, love and food,  I've stumbled upon the most amazing and revolutionary discovery in the history of the English language, or at least since Garmond Retutsi discovered the now overused exclamation point in Palp, Sussex, England in 1488 - a scant 4 years before Columbus discovered Hispaniola and six years after King Phillip III beheaded his youngest and last wife, Queen Heather I.  This was right before the Two Doors line of royalty began - and well before the four doors became popular with families.

I digress as I'm often wont to do.

One summer morning, while I had nothing better to do - which is often the case on summer mornings - I sat behumbled on my couch listening to the air conditioner humming and my ears ringing. With this cacophony flowing through my ears, I began thinking about a show I had seen several nights before on The Science Channel. It was about quantum physics. In this show they taunted us thinking viewers with some interesting concepts drawn from quantum physics. For instance, let's say you live in Middleburg, Pa. I'm not accusing you of being from Pennsylvania, I'm just saying.  And let's say your darling Aunt Prudence lives in  Gluttux, West Virginia - again, I'm not accusing you of having relatives from West Virginia. I'm just saying this so I can explain the concept of quantum physics to you.

OK now we're all happy, right? I'm not denigrating you. I'm just saying.

So one morning you get phone call from Aunt Prudence who has just won the West Virginia Super DNA Lottery. She tells you she's won the lottery and she's now $14.8 million - after taxes - richer. Of course you're very happy for your aunt and you're now glad you stuck with her after your Uncle Cline deserted her when she was seriously infested with carbuncles and had no where and no one to turn to - and suddenly you, in your best wool suit, appear at her doorstep and offer her solace and tended to her carbuncles and made her Earl Grey tea. You never knew then that cleaning festering carbuncles would turn out to be the second most important thing you've ever done in your life - the first being the time you kept that little girl in The Olive Garden restaurant from drinking the fruit punch which was actually Long Island iced tea.

Sure, her parents claimed that Olive Garden put Long Island iced tea in the little girl's sippee cup, - but that was only so they could sue the O.G. for some big bucks.

Actually you knew - and any sensible parent knows - the parents really wanted the kid to go to sleep that night so they could watch The Sensuous Channel, for which they were paying the cable company an extra $19.95 per month. They didn't have a lot of extra money leftover each week - what with all the cigarettes, booze, and payments to Rent-A-Rama - and they sure weren't getting their money's worth out of that channel, that's for sure.

It's hard enough to have a little kid in this era of Viagra, Cialis, Zestra, social networking, smartphones with high-res cameras, sexting, and nearly-naked people prancing around on the screen making obscene gyrations right smack dab in the middle of primetime - but then again, for $19.95, The Sensuous Channel offers much more lurid, provocative, tawdry, entertaining and enticing fare.

Nowadays, most parents are loathe to take responsibility for teaching their kids about the birds and bees. Most people these days prefer to blame the government or their neighbors for all of their problems; they choose let somebody else fix them up - usually the same government or neighbors they blamed in the first place. This is perplexing, but beside the point. So let's be honest about this delicate matter. Most parents don't want to have explain the birds and the bees and that kind of stuff to a fifteen year-old, let alone a five year-old. Most parents these days prefer to leave that kind of thing up to teachers, smartphones and Facebook.

The little girl was a good little girl, except when it came to bedtime.  Often she didn't want to go to bed at night,  and she tended get out of her bed and wander around aimlessly in the night, usually ending up in her parent's bed. So what's wrong with a little Long Island iced tea anyway? A gentle sedative and ooh la la, the mom and dad get a chance to settle in for an hour or so of  The Sensuous Channel - while the kid sleeps it off in her room.

But the best laid plans...

So anyway, you get the news about Aunt Prudence's good fortune and you hop in your car and head to West Virginia hoping to reap your just reward for taking care of your aunt's carbuncles after your Uncle Cline ran off with Chloe Vincent - the town trollop.

Sure, everyone in town knew Chloe, except for your uncle. How the townsfolk laughed at him when he bought Chloe a $75.00 engagement ring.They all knew he could have gotten away with a $3.00 red silicone bracelet and a bottle of Boone's Farm. But that's a whole other story.

I'm sure by now you're scratching your head and wondering what all this has to do with quantum physics. I'll tell you what. The erudite physicists who ponder the vast universe come up with theories to explain to how all of the stuff in the universe came from nothing.

See, the Big Bang theory says that everything we can see, touch, hear and feel - all came from nothing. Including your dog, Emil. That's hard for most of us to contemplate since we have more urgent things to contemplate like jobs, hospital bills, smelly foot fungi, blood tests, electric bills, blisters and broken air conditioners and so forth. It's hard to ponder the universe when you've got a wart on your arm as big as a baseball and you're out of Dr. Scholl's Wart Remover.  So it's really not that we don't have the brains to contemplate the infinite, it's just that we don't have the time for such things because we're always tied up with a bunch of trivialities that need to be contemplated.

And speaking of time, time is something else that came from nothing. We can't see it or feel it, yet it rules our lives, except for the physicists and Aunt Prudence who now has nothing to do with her time but decide how to spend her money.

You hope she spends some of it on you. That's why you're in your old Toyota Corolla heading to your aunt's house in West Virginia right now. So you pull out of out of your driveway and watch as your house disappears in your rear-view mirror. Quantum physics states that your house no longer exists when you can no longer see it. So when your house disappears behind you in your rear-view mirror, your house is gone until you - if ever - return. The same goes for Middleburg, Pa. Once you've left your little town and head out on the open highway - on your way to your aunts house and hopefully the end of your money woes, your town no longer exists. It's gone. And when you finally leave the state of Pennsylvania, it no longer exists either.

All that exists is what you can see, hear, or feel - what you can observe with your senses at that moment. And that is what quantum physics is all about.

Right now, you're probably thinking I'm another Einstein, because I can take such a complex thing like quantum physics and distill it down to its essence -  and make it easy enough so that even the most droll can understand it. I thank you for the compliment, but it's not necessary. Quantum physics isn't so hard to understand, and fortunately for you, neither is quantum grammar.

My discovery will set the world of English on its asterisks. No longer will our children have to suffer through boring lectures on parts of speech like verbs, nouns, pronouns, adjectives, adverbs, conjunctions, prepositions and so on. When you come to think about it - and I have come to think about it at great length - English - or any language for that matter - exists only to allow people to communicate with one another - whatever they would want to that for.

If English and other languages exist so we can communicate with one another -and if there is some other reason language exists step right up and tell me what that reason is - then why do we need all these rules and ridiculous dissection of parts of speech and complete sentences and verb agreements and so forth? Exactly! See you're thinking! We don't need no stinkin' grammar rules because the only reason language exists is so that we can communicate.

Consider these examples:

I needs to borrows a cuppa sugar.
I need to borrow a cup of sugar.

My car have runned out of gas and I has no money.
My car has run out of gas and I have no money.

We was driving down the road and I hit a deer the cops came and gives me a breathalyzer and I failed and they take me to jail and gives me sixty days and they gives a package of venison to my wife and kids.

We were driving down the road when I hit a deer. The cops came, gave me a breathalyzer test which I failed. They arrested me, took me to jail where I'm serving sixty days. They had the deer cleaned and gave the venison to my wife and kids.

There was this guy who was religious and God tells him to build this big boat and go out and collect too of each animals and bring them back to the big boat and wait til it rains a really lot and than the boat was going to float away on the water and be took to the top of a really big mountain wear it would be safe from the flood and all the animals could get out and go to the bathroom and roam around and make new animals so the world will have new good animals and people and not the nasty old smelly ones it used to have. We needs another flood I thought.

There once was a religious man. God told him to build a huge boat, called an ark. He told the man to go out and collect two of each animal and bring them back to ark and wait until it rained. When it rained, God told him, the boat would float and would come to rest on top of a very high mountain, where the boat and its precious cargo would be safe from the flood. When the boat came to rest, God told the man to release all the animals so they could go forth and multiply. Thus God rid the world of the sinners and the world started anew. I think right now would be a great time for God to send us another flood. We need to start over.

I is hungry. I hasn't eat in three days.
I am hungry. I haven't eaten in three days.

Quantum English states that as long as people can understand what you're saying and you're communicating an idea or a thought or a story successfully, then nothing else matters. After you say or write something and you get your idea across then you've successfully communicated and your command of the language is good enough.

You doesn't need no grammar. You just needs to communicate. That's quantum English.

I is done teaching you fore today. Tomorrow we will discuss quantum cooking. You is in for a treat.

Looking At My Butt in the Mirror

Who knew it would be like this? Alone at 40, watching the ravages of age creeping up the sacks of my butt cheeks. I couldn't believe my bloodshot eyes when I looked at my butt in the mirror today. I was amazed. Whose butt is that? I thought as I peered into the reflection in the steamy mirror. I looked around to see if a crazed, old mendicant had sneaked into my bathroom while I was showering perhaps to borrow a little shaving cream or a bar of soap.

I'm a really generous person so I'd have been glad to give a bar of soap, a dollop of shaving cream, or even a stick of deodorant to some poor, penniless vagrant who had suddenly become aware of his poor hygiene and growing stench. I can relate. I've been on beggar holidays before, I've gone a few days without the benefit of a good cleansing. I know how the odors can collect in the groin and waft up to the nose when sitting naked at the table. That's one of several reasons why I never sit naked at the table even when I'm on vacation and I'm alone It is a good reminder that even when I'm on vacation, I need a good shower. I rarely go without showering at least once a day now - even when I'm on vacation. The smells seem to collect much faster at 40 than they did at 20. I can't wait to be 60.

Getting back to my sagging butt. I just couldn't fathom how much my butt had changed since the last time I ogled it in the mirror. It's not something I do very often. I would think only the vain admire their own butts - but I don't know that for sure. I don't normally ask people how long it's been since they've actually looked at their butts.

I'll tell you this. The last time I looked at my butt it was firm and smooth. Twenty years ago, I'd say it was a nice butt, but I don't want to sound conceited. But today, it's not a nice butt at all. It's saggy and I noticed some creases growing on it that are quite unattractive.It's my butt - it's got creases in it and it's not so firm anymore. I am sure some fitness trainer could whip my ass back into shape, if I'd let him (her). But there's as much chance of me having a fitness trainer as there is of me finding myself in a tattoo parlor. So I guess it would really be an insult if I told someone today to kiss my ass. Twenty years ago it may have been an invitation.

It's amazing how much time changes me - emotionally, intellectually and physically. I think time has been good to me on the first two counts, but on the last count time time has been really rough on my butt.

It's really hard to get into this aging thing. It will be a hell of a long time before I dare stare at my butt in the mirror again.

I'm going to wear baggier pants.

What possessed me to look at my butt in the mirror today?

You Heathens

I'm writing this bloob in response to this bloob. In case you're wondering - a bloob is a blog about boobs.

You atheists really take the holy wafer. You really think the guy you saw on the wall is Jesus? You wouldn't know Jesus if He came up and bit you on the right nipple - even if you were standing alone in a Starbuck's with a bag of sushi - and there was no one else around but Lindsay Lohan.

The Christians want you to think Jesus was a tall, white guy with nice muscles and a beard. Really! You weren't looking at Jesus on that wall, it might have been Ben Franklin dressed for a French Halloween masquerade ball, or a photoshopped cross between Tom Hanks and Abe Lincoln, but no my daughter, it was not Jesus who was bespoiling your eyes.

If it were Jesus he would have looked more like Hermann Berger or Osama bin Laden than the progeny of Thomas Jefferson and his slave Jamima - the latter of pancake and pancake syrup fame. Thomas Jefferson had really strong genes, enough to compensate for the very African genes of Jamima LaTouche - his radicalized African slave who he imported from the French Congo. 


By-the-way, the French Congo was sold to Belgium for some trinkets and beads, mainly because the French felt sorry for Belgium who never really owned squat due to a weak military composed of girlish boys most of whom were of timid, docile and oh-so-antiwar Swiss stock. All white boys too.

So then it became The Belgium Congo - a haven for rich, white, fat slave traders and aging, nearly toothless prostitutes who had became too old, smelly and saggy for the sophisticated men of post-colonial America.  But Belgium, with its effeminate army of girlish boys and men, couldn't hang on to The Congo very long - The Belgium Congo is no more. The Belgium Congo is now called Zimbabwe - a place that almost none of us know, and even fewer of us love.  I put forth this information in case you're history-challenged.

I digress.


Though you're a devout atheist you're allowing the Christians to pull one over on you. That white guy on the wall was not Jesus. You can have the city come spray paint the wall and cover up the white guy - but you can't cover up Jesus because he is Risen and won't be back until He's good and ready. And when He comes back we're all in trouble; your tits will be the least of your problems then. 


You've allowed the Christians to hoodwink you into believing that the guy on the offensive wall is Jesus. Jesus! Don't be so gullible. He's a white guy with a beard - he can't even play basketball for Christ's sake. It might be George Clooney or Jeffrey Hunter, it might even be Jeb Bush - but it's not Jesus. I thought you were much brighter than this.

Listen! This is just a white guy with a beard!Perhaps Ben Franklin in costume.

You atheists need to organize better and stop worrying so much about white guys with beards. What do you think, Jesus is Elvis? Wake up!


Though I'm not sure I'd join your legion of God-haters (just in case, I want to leave my options open), I'd like to help you out. What atheists need is an icon. 


Take a lesson from the poor Jews who were at one time a big deal. They had really big parties celebrating Moses. They had really big boats. They even talked to God - something I'm going to guess you've never done. Honestly, I have to admit I haven't either - but if I could I have a lot of questions to ask him. I'd like to know why we have bladders? I mean why can't we just dribble all over? We didn't used to have houses, for God's sake. We used to live in freakin' caves. Like a little urine is going to ruin a cave! Why bladders? Huh? All they do is go bad and help some rich white guys who make adult diapers get richer. Having to get up to pee is annoying especially when you're in the middle of watching Sponge Bob.

(I give credit to Nipple-odeon for the image above - used without permission!)


Anyway...


What you atheists need are icons. The Jews didn't have any. Once they ran out of fake stone tablets and arks - they had to settle for menorahs. Who the hell cares about menorahs. The don't look good, you can't stick them on a chain and wear them around your neck, and you certainly can't have refrigerator magnets that look like menorahs. The Christians were smart. Crucifixes are cool and simple. You can make one out of two sticks. You can make really nice rear-view mirror hangers from them, even air fresheners. And when you see a cross, a crucifix if you will, you think Jesus and Christianity - even if you don't know what the hell Jesus looks like. What do we think of when we think about atheists? Right! Some old, gray-haired fat lady. That's right - Madelyn Murray O'Hair. See for yourself:

Atheist founder and would-be icon--Really!

You really think this nutball is going to attract intellectual, pensive men like me? You're nuts. I wouldn't even fall for a boob-popping thing like you pulled at that kiddie play.


Take a lesson from the Jews who let Emperor Constantine put freaking crosses everywhere and pictures of Jesus (who in those times looked like Augustus Caesar - i.e. not quite white yet) in every public bath and brothel. It wasn't long before Jesusmania swept Rome and then the world.


The poor Jews stood around lighting Manorah's and killing lambs while the world went nuts for Christianity. You think the world is going to go nuts for atheism? You're crazy!


You need an icon. I have the perfect icon for your movement: a cucumber. Sleek, smooth and phallic, cucumbers would be the ideal icon for atheism. They're cool, green and don't look a bit like Jesus or Madelyn Murray O'Hair. Cucumbers are cheap and plentiful - and they can be used in salads and in bed. 


Think about it. I'm giving you free advice. Don't worry about white guys' pictures on city property and try to convince me that it was Jesus. You're wasting your time getting all upset about some white guy with a beard. If you want to waste time, go look for Elvis or go to the Columbus Dispatch and tell them you were abducted by aliens and they took tissue samples from both nipples.


Wake up, atheists! You need an icon or you'll end up like the Jews.


I'm just sayin'.