Electro Robot and Sparko His Dog

Paranoia

Part 17 of 30

I’m letting Electro stand not just for Electro and his faithful dog but the whole computerized world, which as we know has taken over and has us marching in lockstep to do its terrible bidding. We have developed a horrible dependence on all this stuff, which is so bad that I’ve already given in to temptation three or four times in the last 10 minutes to check my Facebook. Someone may have “liked” my latest post about upgrading to a better Electro; Model 3.2 is out in case you hadn’t heard!

There would be a definite improvement in my life -- as I perceive it -- to tell my dog her services are no longer necessary and replace her with Sparko. I could argue that Electro has a hole in his heart when Sparko’s not around. And with an actual dog, nature has given them a wacky software, meaning they need to poop and pee more often than my own software wants to handle. In that way Sparko would be an real improvement. But just to keep myself in the good graces of pet fans -- if there are any -- I'm not taking immediate action, as I continue (reluctantly) to take my old-school dog out, so far still under 50 times a day. I even bag most of my own groceries just so I'll have enough poop bags and so far the store hasn't imposed a limit on the bags I can use.

But Sparko and Electro so far are just a dream not come true for me. Plus, I’m actually reluctant because, Do I really need something else to consume my time? And none of my neighbors have one either, so there’s no pressure to keep up with them. Really, the world has settled down quite a bit from the excitement of getting computers, hard drives, etc. I was looking at some of my blogging from the mid-to-late ‘90s, and my graphics were about the size of a stamp. They had to be small enough to fit on a floppy disk. We're never quite there... So it probably pays to wait.

Now all my floppy disks are gone, I don’t know what happened to them. Must’ve been when they quit putting the drives on computers we just thought, “What’s the use? Just move on.” The key thing to note here is that whatever you have now, it’s crap compared to what is to come. The old Electros will be sitting in the dump, configuring themselves with satellites above to wreak vengeance on us, and we’ll deserve it.

This is where the sad side of Sparko enters the picture. Small enough and well-programmed enough to do Electro’s bidding, he’s also on important missions for outer space masters to destroy our infrastructure. One mechanical dog against the world! But they’re faithful, if not objectively good, so what Electro wants, Electro gets.

If this doesn’t make your head swell with paranoia, I guess that’s OK. Once they take you out, as in terminating you as their so-called master, that'll be that much more space for me to stretch my legs and relax, to the extent relaxation’s even possible these days.

Video Killed The Rodeo Star

 

Part 27 of 30

The Mam & Pap

Royal Splendid Traveling Rodeo

Mam and Pap’s show went way back to the more-thrilling days of yesteryear when rodeos weren’t on TV day and night. Now, as everyone knows, we can tune in everyday and see professional shows replete with killer bulls, tough, tested riders with their fist double wrapped in rope, and clowns that have been to finishing school and can tell their pinkie finger from their willy. The big difference with today's clowns is they're out there from the pressure of tradition, and because ordinary guys in ordinary clothes wouldn’t do. With modern contracts, they're probably selling 18-inch celebrity shoes.

And right there’s a big change since the days of TV, and especially with the novelty of TV rodeos wearing off after a couple decades. As far as I’m concerned, it’s all jaded stuff, no neighborliness, naturally. Hell, I could go on about my many complaints — I pick them up and amplify what I hear when visiting my fellow codgers at nursing homes. Of whom, just to be accurate, most of them are dead, so to a certain extent the remaining shreds of my life are being lived as a tribute to them, their greatest hits, in the complaints they shared about progress.

It’s the earliest days that are the most interesting, since we thought our complaining might do some good. The TV producers would get the message. We only like rodeos where there’s some chance of the bull actually landing in our lap before it's over. Now we can hit pause and go to the bathroom and come back only to see some guy getting bucked sky high and land in a corporately-sponsored pillow. “Get a Good Night’s Sleep with Zonko Pillows.” In my opinion, the pillow industry shouldn’t have gotten into the rodeo racket. You could write a whole indictment of it: “The Dumbing Down of Rodeo.” But I’m old, I’ll leave that to new blood.

The selling point of TV — there were several — were convincing. You’ll have the rodeo right in your living room. No need to go out to a smelly fairgrounds. No waiting around for anything to start. No crooked rodeo performers stealing from your car. And on and on. The biggest thing of course was the convenience. They also put it forth between the lines as a great equalizer: "Now even a one-horse town can have all the horses it can stand! Where before they couldn’t support a one-horse rodeo!” With TV, the show from Las Vegas is a local event.

We had some meetings and demonstrations, heavily reported in the local paper but ignored by TV, with their bias. At first it was “Down with TV,” but our numbers and enthusiasm shrunk quickly as sets were snapped up like dirty magazines and replaced the real thing with the feel-good experience of instant gratification in your own home. You could even hear it from your own bathroom, which could no longer hold everyone up with an endless line to get in. Back then you might catch a glance of the guy standing next to you, then realize it's a horse!

Physician, Commit Thyself

Part 30 of 30 -- Psycho Squad

As time goes on, long after my day, when better Psycho Squads are made, I’ll be there, my spirit pressed against the grindstone and sparking like mad. The current generation always builds on what came before. And so it shall always be, until everyone's normal.

Now I'm an old man and I’ve seen a lot of changes. For the most part the changes have been for the better. When I first started, we didn’t know much, we were feeling our way. They wanted to train us “right,” according to the standards of the time. But we were young and brash and said we could do it. We tried, really tried, and it wasn’t always a big success, with the wild massacres of the late ‘70s inflaming things, to say the least. Now it's all ancient history. Because we charted a new course, hating with a purple passion our banning by the infernal "responsible authorities." We had to take a different path if we wanted to eat...

Yes, a lot of guys were skittish and acted tough; they fell by the wayside. Some true talents were among them, too, who could’ve helped advance the Psycho Squad movement. But they wilted like violets, proving themselves namby pamby weak-willed nothings, always there when the going was easy but nowhere to be found when people started dying: “Aggh! There goes another one!” Which to me is when you need them the most. “Suture this man’s wounds! Set that bone! We’re dying here, people! Where are you going?! You can’t leave us! I don't care if drinks are half-priced! They’re locked in the bathroom with a box of matches and enough gasoline to ignite World War III!” ... You realize I'm not talking about patients, that was the staff...

But today is not a day for looking back but ahead, and having the same can-do spirit that made us pick up the loose pieces and march forward. Which, if memory serves, some loudmouths said couldn’t be done. I will be the first to admit, I almost believed the naysayers. Because, really, what'd I know? I was new, still fairly innocent in the ways of the world and personally had some tough times. Now I've had decades to reflect on the mission, but then I wavered. And just before I was lost forever on the naysayers’ path, I found my way back. Big thanks to Cindy Lou S___ for taking me in that night, for comforting me, stroking my hair, etc., and humpa humpa, the dawn broke.

Where have the years gone? Into service, that’s where! We've seen the whole mental hospital scene. County facilities for the mentally wayward. And a relatively recent emphasis on meds to calm and control. I was vehemently against it at first but they subdued me and thereby convinced me, “Yes, this works.” And now I have several prescriptions of my own, so, to be absolutely blunt, I’m chillin’, dude … You still here? Hope you can read these chicken scratches; I can barely read them myself, but hey… I’m OK, you’re OK, no one reads this far anyway. I could say anything or puke all over the place and it’d be all the same...

You know, I haven’t seen a psycho in a choke-hold in 20 years! The old ways have passed. Which was indeed fairly sad, but effective. Cuffed to a nightstand, turn the TV way up, and except for the noise everything was under perfect control. Of course you wouldn’t try that working on your re-cert! I mean, live dangerously if that’s your thing, just don’t tempt fate, that’s all.

They Thought Dentistry Was Some Kind Of Hoax

I was stunned to find out about this. But a little research, and it didn't take much, shows it's absolutely true. Dentistry started out with a great deal of suspicion. We're only lucky the first dentists stuck with it.

People tend to be skeptical. Full of doubt. But it's nothing now like back in the olden days, in the earliest days when man had barely made progress. Thomas Edison had to literally hit people over the head with the light bulb before they saw the light.

I was at the dentist's office just yesterday, and my dentist had only enough time to tell me the bare essentials of what went on way back when. Years ago, it seems, they didn't even believe dentistry was a true thing. Of course those who really thought it over -- the first pioneers themselves in dentistry -- saw it was logical: If you can tie a string around your tooth and pull it out with a door knob, surely a professional could help you with it.

And that might have been the problem. The average guy would obviously think, If I can do it myself why would I pay someone else to do it? Everyone has a sadistic baby brother who'll help out in a pinch, and he's built up enough animus, of course the rest of us are willing to help him, too, and how! They weren't thinking of root canals, crowns, or wisdom teeth, that are tough enough to ruin the knob, etc.

And not only that, they had a teaching from the Bible -- they being pious -- that suggested that when it came to teeth you just left well enough alone: In the day when the keepers of the house shall tremble, and the strong men shall bow themselves, and the grinders cease because they are few... (Ecclesiastes 12). The verse more or less says you use your teeth till they grind themselves to powder, then you spit the powder out.

But a few of the pioneers, the first men into dentistry, somehow had their consciousness raised, then struck out to convert others. And I would say they were ultimately successful, because as far as I can see, today there's more dentists than gas stations. We're crazy about our teeth, straightening, whitening, braces, polishing, cleaning. It's actually a little ironic. The first dentists were mostly doing extractions, but that's the one thing that's hard to get today. For some unspecified reason, dentists want you to keep your teeth...

I have the ad pictured above to show one of the pioneers, a certain Dr. Witless, who really has to receive a lot of the credit in proving people wrong. Look at that, he was giving away $1,000 worth of dental care just to prove the point that unrelated third parties could do dental work!

And from the looks of things, he was more concerned about simply making that point than in doing anyone's teeth any good. When he says, "I'll extract teeth for you ... simply to prove to you that it truly can be done!", notice he doesn't care whether the teeth need to be extracted, he's only doing it to promote dentistry. And just a look at his before-and-after graphics shows he didn't want to leave even the slightest doubt about it.

What do our current dentists think of those olden times efforts? The way I take it, they're amused by the quaintness of it, while also realizing how much better it makes them look. Because we're so used to modern painless techniques that we see the pioneers as barbarians. True, there is still a lot of discomfort today, shots, your jaw propped open for 20 minutes, mouthfuls of sticky stuff when they're making impressions, and the fact that the free floss is a measly 5 yards. But when you think of the olden days, you're happy, and willing to buy your own floss.

We've obviously come a long way. The skeptics are all gone. The so-called Dental Truthers have all died. Thanks to guys like Dr. Witless, who were willing to pull out every single last tooth in their heads, and free at that, to make the point. And, really, if you left the office with nothing but bleeding gums and still didn't believe, of course there's not much he could do about that.

Today's dentists might be amused by the pioneers. But they also owe them a huge debt. They were the ones who led the way, the trailblazers, who gave the practice of dentistry a foundation to build on. And if it weren't for them, just speaking for myself, my smile would look worse than it does. I'd be a mumbling fool. And worse, probably a virgin.

Why You'll Never See Me In Black

Probably all of you remember Johnny Cash being "The Man In Black." He wore black, he talked about his clothes, he wrote a book called that, and he had a hit song of the same name.

Now that he's gone, you don't hear much about it anymore. Which is why I want to reopen the subject for a new generation. Because now, thanks to the world's progress, there's no more reason to wear black. And if Johnny Cash were here today and able to look around at our progress, I'm sure he would agree, and purchase some lighter threads.

Remember his song, "Man In Black," in which he explained why he wore black? He sang:

I wear the black for the poor and the beaten down,
Livin' in the hopeless, hungry side of town,
I wear it for the prisoner who has long paid for his crime,
But is there because he's a victim of the times.

Right off the bat we see where he's going. Back then there were folks who were called poor and beaten down, folks who were hopeless and hungry. So to address that, Johnny Cash wore black. Of course there was nothing about his clothing that told the story itself. He needed to spell it out for us, then whenever we'd see him in black, we'd know what was going on.

But hallelujah! There's no more need for black, now that everyone has enough for his daily needs, now that folks are no longer beaten down, and now that no one is hopeless or hungry. And the prisons are empty. Most of them have been torn down, there being no more need for them. If I felt like wearing black today, I'd have to come up with a whole new set of reasons, because with progress we've eliminated the old ones. That's great news!

I wear the black for those who never read,
Or listened to the words that Jesus said,
About the road to happiness through love and charity,
Why, you'd think He's talking straight to you and me.

Again, hallelujah! There's no one, except maybe newborn babies, who hasn't read or listened to the words of the Lord. All of us in this more enlightened time, thanks to the strides of progress of the last 30 years, have easy access and eager minds to imbibe the wisdom of Christ, as he speaks still about the road to happiness through love and charity. We've not only had the teachings, we've lived out their spirit. So ... no more need for black.

I wear it for the sick and lonely old,
For the reckless ones whose bad trip left them cold,
I wear the black in mournin' for the lives that could have been,
Each week we lose a hundred fine young men.

There's no more sick, there's no more old who are lonely. There's no more reckless ones taking bad trips. There's no more need to mourn the lives that could have been, because they're all living to a ripe old age, thank you very much, and enjoying their lives immensely. I'm thinking the last piece of the stanza had to do with guys who were fighting and dying in Vietnam. Of course that's long since over with, and because the world has found a way to live in peace, everything now is great. Black is definitely out!

Johnny Cash was, I hate to say it, the definition of pessimism. Read this depressing verse:

Well, there's things that never will be right I know,
And things need changin' everywhere you go,
But 'til we start to make a move to make a few things right,
You'll never see me wear a suit of white.

First, he thinks "there's things that never will be right," saying he knows that! Unfortunately he isn't with us today to eat his words! He didn't imagine the golden age that has opened up to us, where every evil has been dealt with and everything good, right, and proper is the order of the day. And yet, look at the last piece, he at least had the optimism to imagine that we might "start to make a move to make a few things right..." What?! "Start to make a move..." and "to make a few things right." It's not as optimistic as it sounded on first hearing, but only then -- only then -- would we, might we hope to see him wear a suit of white!

The big finale drives home his pessimism and his despair at having to always wear black:

Ah, I'd love to wear a rainbow every day,
And tell the world that everything's OK,
But I'll try to carry off a little darkness on my back,
'Till things are brighter, I'm the Man In Black.

He'd "love" to wear a rainbow everyday, he'd "love" to tell the world everything's OK, but, alas, he couldn't. If only he'd lived, he would have seen that day come, that day of rainbows, happiness, fulfillment, and righteousness. Instead, as he shuffled off the stage, he sounded a Suffering Servant/Christ-with-His-cross tone, "I'll try to carry off a little darkness on my back..."

You know what, that's a far out thought! Maybe after Johnny Cash's death, his atonement amounted to something in glory. Maybe that's how we got the switch, how everything started coming up roses. Johnny Cash's clothes saved the day. In glory, his having been clad in black ... saved the world! Stranger things have happened!

So, up there somewhere, today, Johnny Cash has to know the world's Golden Age is here. Injustice, heartache, and all forms of evil have been dealt with. Mankind is in harmony with his brother once and for all! And that's why you'll never see me in black!

I Go The Distance

Progress, ho ho ho, the word of my life, the arrow pointing out ahead being the direction. I've been thinking about progress since I was a kid, and it doesn't look like it's going to stop anytime soon. Onward and upward!

You can tell I'm in a fantastic mood this morning. Of course, sure, there are things that could get me down were I to dwell on them. Like anyone, the future is always uncertain in particular respects. But I've always managed to deal with it before and there's no doubt in my mind that I'll keep on like that for the foreseeable future.

The thing about life is to take care of the present moment, looking out for your affairs right this minute, and to keep it all as clean as possible. Clean as in no entanglements you can't untangle. On that front, I have to say I'm doing pretty well. I may walk out of here and be run over by a truck, but that has nothing to do with what I'm talking about. If I look both ways, I will likely make it.

So I'm in a fantastic mood. I got up, took care of business, read a little (fiction), then read a little of some good spiritual literature, gave it all a joyful thought and zeroed in on the essence of the thing. And when I left it behind, it went with me, because I'm reminding myself as I go on. (It's not just me, it can be you, too!)

The idea I have is that we basically set goals for ourselves, personal attainment stuff, then we discipline ourselves (something I'm not always good at) to persevere and attain them. There's mile-markers along the way and we go past those, not just to be going past but because we're moving in life and enjoying the trip along the way. It's cumulative, not postponing anything!

I've really been thinking that giving attention to detail is the way to live, and less is more, or less is the whole thing. If you're feeling and knowing the texture of life along the way, that's better than postponement or seeking to attain more more more. My way hasn't always been like that, but right this minute it is. I might be thinking of planetary systems (appreciate that), something big, huge, then turn to the extremely small, a spider's web (appreciate that). Then a few words of something inspiring and I'm feeling pretty good.

Are you going the distance, are you advancing on and advancing in?