I'm Saying Horrible Rumors About You

Hi. Glad you found your way to my site. You're probably here to check out the horrible rumors I've been saying about you. You've heard someone was saying very bad things about you. And so you were wondering, "Could it be true? Is there really some complete stranger on the internet, someone with absolutely no connection to me who might actually be spreading around crap about me, things I'd rather no one found out about?"

Well, it is true. I have been saying very bad things about you. And the worst of it is, I'm not through; I have tons more rumors to drop. It's not going to be good for you, that's for sure. Although, looking at it from the point of view of our aggrieved society, having put up with you for all these years -- and you've been insufferable -- getting the truth out there will be beneficial. You had what? -- about a million chances to make it right? Or was it more? I know you haven't exactly taken advantage of your opportunities. So now, the truth is out there.

I'm calling them "rumors," although you and I both know how it really is. You're guilty as hell, and I'm the guy who's got the goods on you. I tracked you down, I kept a laser-like focus on your comings and goings, I had other guys trailing your friends, we tapped your calls, and we have recordings. I even have printouts of all your private messages. And there's been a bunch, so far I've got eight standard file cabinets stuffed full. Office Depot's on their way with a ninth as we speak.

A great question would be, "Why'd you do it?" And by it, I mean the full complement of things you did. Did you think no one would notice? Did you think that you, of all people, could somehow get away with it? The first few times, even I wasn't paying that close of attention. But when a pattern emerges, that's when I perk up. I started looking. Then, by God, you did it again! And again! At first, I'm standing there with a newspaper up. Finally, you were so oblivious to observation, I stood there in the open, very conspicuous, as you drove by, totally clueless.

"OK," you're wondering, "Does this guy really have the goods on me, to the point that he's tweeting me about it? And what does he want?" Yes, I do have the goods on you. And not only in some kind of rough outline, I've got it all charted out, mapped, pinpointed as to times, your arrivals and departures, who was with you, what kind of damage you did, everything from who was using condoms to where the bodies were eventually dumped. Sleazy stuff.

Now you know I've actually got the goods on you! Because if I know that much, the way it all started all the way up to its tragic end, what's the likelihood that I missed any of the middle stuff? Let me quickly say, I didn't miss a thing! I've got it all, and you are busted, as busted as any perp can be! All it'd take from me is one telephone call and a transferal of a few select documents -- remember the picture of the girl with the big sunflower tattooed on her left boob? -- and you'd be looking at -- what? -- a life sentence? Parole in 90 years? Sharing a cell with Manson?

This is great! Great for me, that is. So what do I want? Hmm, what makes you think I want something? Maybe all I want is justice. Stranger things have happened. Or it could be that I do want something. But what that might be, I'm not going to say just now ... I want to wait a little and see what it's worth to you. But, please, don't insult me by bidding low ... oh no, you wouldn't want to do that!

I'll be in touch.

Why Would These Tweeple Unfollow Me?

Everyday on Twitter, a handful of people unfollow me. And likewise several follow me. I follow almost everyone who follows me and unfollow everyone who unfollows me.

It's been a while since I initiated a follow, but the ones I have whom I follow but don't follow me reflects some of those folks. (I'm following 3913 as of this minute, with 3833 followers.) I say it reflects some of them because there's a bunch, I don't know how many, who follow me but I never followed them.

I really don't know any of them. I know a few of them (less than 10) better than the ones I don't know at all, but even these relationships (laughable use of the word) are nothing. In short, I don't know anyone on Twitter.

Following the 3913 as I do, naturally I don't keep track of what they're saying most of the time. The only ones I see are the ones whose tweets happen to be streaming past in the three-to-four minutes a day I'm looking at it, on TweetDeck. I see their names in that little space of time, but they're all the same. None of them except the less-than-10 I mentioned do I recognize even in the slightest.

Now, 3913 isn't really very many compared to some of them I've seen. Take FacetStudio in the graphic, following 68726! That's huge! But still, 3913 is quite a few if you were trying to keep track of them. On TweetDeck, the tweets of these are zipping by extremely fast, blip-blip-blip. In a few seconds they've scrolled off the screen, never to be seen again.

One other thing about me unfollowing. I said I unfollow anyone who unfollows me. But I don't initiate unfollows otherwise. The reason is, frankly, who cares? They're not bothering me in the slightest. I do unfollow these other characters because, WTF? Why are you unfollowing me? I'm not doing anything that should get too many people agitated.

Recently, though, I did a few political humor tweets. In the larger scale of anything, about as consequential as tossing a pebble in the ocean. Maybe someone would unfollow me for that. But usually, it seems to be the most random, unnecessary act in the world to, suddenly out of the blue, unfollow me.

In the graphic I have two who unfollowed me recently, out of bunches. They're opposites, that's why they're pictured.

Let's look at IAMPREVALENT. I don't know if I initiated the follow in that case or not. Probably not, because at the time I was looking for people who would follow me back. Prevalent's balance doesn't show that as being likely. So apparently Prevalent initiated things by following me first. Then I followed back. At some point, then, Prevalent unfollowed me. We ask why? It looks obvious that Prevalent wants to get a lot of followers without actually following back. So I can see why I would be unfollowed. That one is very clear.

The more interesting one is FacetStudio. Following 68726, followed by 81662. It could be Facet is going the way of Prevalent and I just happen to be one of the first ones to go. Just unfollowing us wholesale, if that's what happened, OK. But excluding that, I can't think of a good reason. Like I said, following 3833 is so many I don't know one person from another. If I were following over 68000, it's going to be so much worse, why would I be micromanaging it to such a degree that this guy and this guy get the ax? I wouldn't know those guys in the slightest, there'd be no reason.

Of course I'm looking at all this from the way I do things. But maybe Facet, having a studio and everything, has higher standards in who to follow and unfollow, and a greater system of doing it. Maybe there's employees tinkering with the following list, always at work pruning it for merchandising purposes or whatever. Since I haven't bought a painting, the computer is blinking and beeping: NUMBER 53,456 MUST BE CUT OFF! It's such a large outfit in my imagined version of things that they're turning us over at super speed, like the way they continually rotate silage so it doesn't burst into flames. (Rural background.)

The weird thing would be if Facet is just a guy like me, sitting at his computer, manually and purposefully tending to his 68726 follows. He'd have to be some kind of super brain, and definitely more into worthless minutia than I'll ever be!

Take care, IAMPREVALENT. Following only 18, your feed is nothing. That'd be nice. And take care, FacetStudio. Whatever you're up to, it's cool.

I'm Right Next To Joan Rivers

This is from the list of people some guy follows. I think a list like this is sequential, since he had just followed me and I'm listed the second from the top.

That's wild. In the random happenstances of Tweeter, he followed me, then Joan Rivers!

She's in good company.

Our Drive For Industrial Innovation

If you think about the drives and doings of the average species, you easily see they're typically creatures of habit. Some of this is physiological, but that doesn't make it necessarily exclusive or even ideal. One quick example would be walking forward when sometimes it's best to walk backward, like if there's a snake crawling forward in front of you. If we could train snakes to crawl backward, the rest of us could walk forward all the time, unless we just felt like walking backward.

The fact is, we can innovate! I'm innovating all the time, another word being 'making do.' Just yesterday I was 'making do' when it came to a broken piece on an appliance, putting it back together with three paperclips. My innovation came out of experience in this case, having used paperclips before with some success to fix things. But, let me hasten to add, it wasn't just 'creature of habit' stuff, what I was doing, but a true innovation, because the parts I was fixing were different from those of the past. Still, I know, overall, in the meta stuff, this could be 'creature of habit,' because I was using paperclips. The true innovator might've tried dental floss.

I actually have innovated in the past with dental floss now that you mention it. I remember tying up some patchouli plants to dry by bundling them and hooking them to a ceiling hook with dental floss. And of course who hasn't innovated in repairing books with broken bindings by sewing them up the edge with floss? I know I have, many times, meaning, I guess, that I was an innovator the first time I did it but an old hand with experience subsequent times. But this is also true: You're still an innovator the subsequent times, since novelty for the sake of novelty is not always innovation, but it can be just being stupid. I will allow that it's innovation even if it doesn't work, but this is splitting hairs.

So you have the behaviors of species, the usual paths of plants, the techniques that we employ to achieve certain aims, and even the workings of the earth, planets, and stars. Nature isn't much of an innovator, you might say, because the sun comes up in the east everyday. And, we say, if we were a sun we might want to mix it up and come up in the west. I know if I were a sun I might sleep a little later some days. Especially if I knew it was my job only and no one else's. The way the sun works now, except for the sloughing off it does in winter, it's fairly reliable.

But you might say, If the sun stayed in bed, wouldn't it always be dark? No, because the sun is a very bright thing. And since it gets hotter as the day goes on, it'd kick the covers off to get cooler, and we'd still have light to see by. Especially if it innovated and slept in an upside-down bed.

Scientists, falsely so-called, say the sun doesn't actually rise and set. They have some kind of cockeyed explanation for how this supposedly happens, involving the sun staying in place and the earth moving around it. As dumb as that is, since we all know better, at least I give them props for innovation. Because why should everyone say the same thing? It's good to innovate and come up with a different explanation. In this case they're clearly walking the plank to their own doom, but it's their funeral.

We of the Residential Industrial Movement have it over the major industrial powers, who actually are diminishing in power everyday thanks to our spirit of innovation. It's common sense that it'd be this way. You have the major powers and they're unrivaled ... of course they're going to do it one way, the way it works. But if every man has his own factory, that's where innovation's going to come in. Because a guy will wake up one day, just as an example, and say, Why shouldn't I put an extra lever on my invention, so that if you flip it something different and unexpected might happen? That's the true scientific approach to life, not just the laziness that the major powers gave us.

Every product I see, from toilets to cars, I think how we could innovate and open up new markets and expand existing ones. Plus, for every extraneous lever you put on something, that's a job for someone.

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TWITTER UPDATE:

One of the conundrums of what constitutes industrial innovation or not: The starting crank on a car.

It was once considered an innovation to have a starting crank, since before that cars wouldn't start at all.

Then it was an innovation to get rid of the starting crank and put in a starter and key ignition.

But I say it'd be an innovation, albeit a throwback innovation, to put starting cranks back on cars today.

One, there'd be a fortune in the nostalgia market. And, two, it'd be handier than getting out battery cables if your car doesn't start.

Trash Talking The Major Industrial Powers

Taunting the major industrial powers:

You guys, if you ate cream cheese and navy beans couldn't make a mess! 

Isn't that a beautiful line? It came to me today while driving along. It just came to me like that, fully formed.

Of course I wanted to preserve it as quickly as I could, so I reached for my phone. Then I remembered you're not supposed to text anything while driving, so I didn't. I just repeated it to myself a few times, but I had my phone out.

Instead of texting it, I wanted to record it on the voice recorder that comes with phones. But you have to type about as many buttons to get to it as you would texting. And I figured if a policeman pulled me over he wouldn't be sympathetic to the distinction. I've seen enough reality police shows to know you can't talk them into anything.

But I kept my phone out because I knew that sooner or later I'd get stuck by a red light. And wouldn't you know it, all the lights that normally turn red as soon as I'm approaching stayed green, allowing me to cruise through town unimpeded, very strange.

Finally, though, my "luck" ran out, and I quickly got the voice recorder going. Then I had a momentary mental block, but, again, it was just a second. I recorded the line I believe four times and that kept it preserved long enough for me to get my errands done and to get home and write it out in all the beauty you see above.

I made a very rare Tweet of it, rare for me, although that version, to be honest, had a comma after "beans," and looking at it tonight it seems to me it shouldn't have. So I tweeked my Tweet and this is the version without the comma after "beans."

The taunt, of course, is that I don't think the major industrial powers can make anything, as in manufacturing. Yes, yes, I know they can make a lot of things, but I guess I'm taunting them about the inferior quality of their shoddy goods if you compare them to what the Residential Industrial Movement can make. We're making things with the greatest quality, literally not resting until we get it as good as we can.

So I guess I'm infantilizing them a little, thinking of someone who can make a real mess in their pants, if you've ever taken care of little kids. Feed them cream cheese and navy beans and stand back! But the major industrial powers, I'm saying, in a great example of trash talking, couldn't even make a mess, given the ingredients that would work even for babies!

Me Promoting "The Apparent Intelligence Of Creatures"

Editor's Note: I made a glorious return to Twitter tonight. You be the judge!

Life is all about choices. I choose to be here right now. I chose not to be here the last several weeks.

Because of my choice, I lost several of my most choice followers.

That's their choice. Of course it's my choice to retaliate against them with brickbats and machetes (figuratively speaking, of course).

I come at people like the gingsu knife guy, or the ginseng tea guy....chop chop, tea's on.

Anything I can do to spur on the people in my corner of the world, that's what I choose to do.

Free choice, it's a beautiful thing. To be or not to be.

I woke up today like a house on fire. But I'm going to bed wimped out.

If you didn't see my post today on "The Apparent Intelligence of Creatures," you should catch it.

It was one of those house on fire mornings for this stuff. Sometimes I'm blah ... but today, like I said, house on fire crazy.

Of course it couldn't last. I had other work to do, the kind of work that shoehorns me back into conventionality.

Oh ... but this morning when I got up, I was laughing up a storm, I really was. With "The Apparent Intelligence of Creatures" and others.

In short, since you missed it, it had to do with the intelligence of students getting on a bus. The bus came from a different direction!

That I SAW this happen is such a lovely thing. I saw it, I observed it, I focused in on the event like a laser beam, which has a real focus.

And when I saw the students running for the bus, going a totally different direction than they're used to, I knew that had to be IT!

They had "intelligence," something instinctual, the kind of thing that only creatures at the creaturely level can automatically demonstrate.

Anyway .... I'm proud of it ... so I thought I'd gin up a little interest. House afire good.

Good night. It's time for me to burrow in for a long winter's nap. Then who knows what I might see tomorrow!

My Big Christmas Party

I'm cleaning up the house, getting ready to host a (modest) Christmas party for some of the neighbors.

We try to stir up the sense of love and brotherhood in the neighborhood on this one special day.

Then the rest of the year, everyone can fend for themselves.

We're going to have cheese and crackers and all the fixin's. Maybe some candy, if I can find some on sale.

I figure I'll pop a Christmas CD in the CD player, lift an eggnog for a toast to a great day, and let it go at that.

Too bad I can't arrange for a few live animals to be tied out in the yard, besides the dog.

Nothing says Christmas like a cow, a donkey, an ox, or a sheep.

All of nature learned the true meaning of Christmas when they were all gathered at the manger.

I ought to look into starting my own menagerie, then rent out my animals when Christmas rolls around, all through December.

Except I'd have to feed and water and tend to their veterinarian needs all through the year.

I can imagine if you had a group of animals, they'd get used to what they were there for, and would perk up when November came.

Then by the time December rolled around, they would be just itching to stand by the little manger that I would also have had built for it.

I'd come around with a sugar cube for whichever animals like sugar cubes, and the other assorted rewards that are valuable to animals.

Good boy, Babe the ox. Good show, Clompers the horse. Way to low, Bossie the cow. How reverential, Peewee the sheep.

But until then, I'll have to check the phone book, and see if there are any Rent-a-Menageries that might come around and bless the guests.

More On The Potential Grandma Slump-Amazon.com Partnership

I have an interesting business proposition on the table and I'm seriously considering it. We're in negotiations, let's say.

It came to my attention some time ago -- I believe it was this morning -- that Amazon.com is seeking a partnership with my blog.

Since then I've been weighing the pros and cons. I made two columns on a notepad and am weighing the good and bad points.

On the good side, of course both Amazon.com and I will make a ton of money, they from my traffic, I from the handsome commissions.

One day I had 13 visitors, and if I'm not mistaken (and I have no way of knowing), none of them was a repeat visitor.

On the bad side, among the cons, what assurances do I have that Amazon.com sells quality merchandise?

Maybe their books are cheap paperback knockoffs. Maybe their CDs are sound-alikes and not the original artists.

I need some assurances of quality, some kind of report on the standards they maintain, if any.

Other than those stumbling blocks, it just might happen. Like I said, we've had some hard-nosed negotiations, Jeff Bezos and myself.

He started out at a guaranteed 5% commission, I insisted on 20%, and we're working toward the middle.

I don't want to be a bloodsucker. On the other hand I don't think he should be either. Each one of us is going to have to give something.

Then when we meet in the middle -- let's say it actually happens -- it'll be of mutual benefit to both sides, Amazon.com and my blog.

But I have to say, if they come at me, their team of lawyers, with a bunch of papers with very fine print, I'm going to read every word.

Then I'll sign, if it happens, and only then. I've had this blog going for close to two years and I don't want to sink it with carelessness.

So stay tuned. Could this be the beginning of something big? An empire, perhaps? The marriage of Amazon.com and the Grandma Slump blog!

Two great powers, titans, coming together as one unstoppable force. The mega-bookstore of all time PLUS the mega-blog of all time. As one!

Cold Case -- The Trivial Stuff -- A Rationale

I've stumbled on to a new vocation, investigating the forgotten past and trying to bring justice in response to certain situations.

Some investigators examine cold case murders, robberies, the various infamous cases of the past, seeking for new and better insights.

I'm doing the same kind of thing, but the cases that interest me are the ones that could be called more trivial in nature.

For example, if I hear someone telling me that a relative broke the law 50-60 years ago, even if it was only a parking offense, that's one.

I've been working on a case about a Grandpa who drove his grandchildren in a city park, not on the road, but right through the park itself. A second link.

It allegedly happened around 50 years ago.

By checking city code books -- and relying on my omnipresent common sense -- I'm starting to put together a list of laws broken by the man.

And this -- shameful -- while entertaining grandchildren! Whose lives were probably in danger at the time, and certainly their morals.

It makes a difference too. Because a lot of these grandkids have kids and grandkids of their own today ...

... Which they wouldn't have had had Grandpa's actions led to fatal injuries.

So, no, I'm sorry, it's not funny when someone breaks the law. That's true today, and it's just as true for 50+ years ago.

In fact, maybe it's worse to break the law 50 years ago, because we've had 50 years of consequences already.

But breaking the law today, there's still 50 years ahead of us and the consequences are still non-existent as of this writing.

Anyway, that's one of the cases. I believe I got a bit worked up about it there because I take this stuff ultra-seriously. It matters.

Take Your Sweet Time, Snow Guy

If you see my snow scooping guy, tell him I'm in no hurry.

The one thing I can't afford to do is make him mad.

And nothing makes a snow scooper madder than to ask him when he's going to show up.

They follow their own inner clock, the same way cats find their way home when they're lost.

You'd be mad too if you were expected to scoop out 75 customers the same day.

But that's usually the way it goes with snow. It snows all over town at the same time.

It's not like the garbage service, the east side on one day, the west side the next.

Just because you're paying the snow guy doesn't mean you can say anything.

Because they have plenty of customers and will gladly drop you if you get lippy.

And getting lippy is basically saying anything.

This Writer Writes Online

Thank you for all your kind remarks about my online writing. I agree, it does seem like it comes easy to me.

There's just something enervating (invigorating? what's the right word?) about the instant feedback you get, even from multiple countries.

It's made me start thinking about signing up for Rosetta Stone just so I can read my fan mail.

It's all very foreign stuff ... some of you know a smattering of English. For those who don't, I appreciate the little smiley faces.

But most of my feedback is definitely in a form I can understand. And that's what gives me, and other writers, probably, such a rush.

So, as it is, I can definitively say, yes, it's true, and there's no doubt -- not any longer -- that I indeed do my best writing ... online.

Online... Just to say the word is to conjure up all kinds of futuristic imaginings!

Who knew? I didn't know. I wasn't predicting it when I was a young writer in fourth grade. I never imagined it. It still boggles my mind.

At that time I was doing what every other creative kid was doing, buying Big Chief tablets at the Feed Store (they had tablets for sale.)

I'd sketch out my little wisdom. Do the "Dear Diary" thing. Make lists of my possessions. Write secret codes and wish I had invisible ink.

I'd make up little poems or jokes, like "JOHNNY---" then something he says, then "TEACHER----", and finally the punchline from "JOHNNY---."

It was all funny at the time. Grandma liked whatever I made up. Plus fantasies about giants, complete with artwork. One Big Eye in his head.

Then came the awkward years. When I didn't want anyone to see my musings. It was a lot of weird "confessions" teen boys might make.

Then I dropped out of sight. I myself didn't even keep track of my comings and goings. It was all very secretive, looking away.

Then they invented the whole online universe. And I felt my shell getting softer from the inside, and finally it fell off my back.

I poked my head out of my shirt, looked around, got used to the light, and started writing. And that's how I came to be here today.

Now I'm ruined for tablets. I can't write on a tablet.

I can only write online. That is to say, I do my best writing online.

Thank you one and all for your constant encouragement. And to those of you in foreign countries, smiley faces back at you!

Building A Building

How's everyone doing? Good, great, glad to hear it.

I saw one of my friends was despondent last night. I thought about saying something encouraging. But then didn't want to get "involved."

You have to know when to come to someone's aid and when not to. I have a surefire method, called "When the time comes...guess."

Could I be the first person in the history of the world to liken personal growth to building a building? I think I probably am.

At some level, it seems obvious. So it's strange that no one's ever thought of it. But I guess that's why I was born, to think of it.

So my purpose in life has now been fulfilled. Hurray for me!

Listen to this: "Brick by brick, the foundation is layed." Laid? Lain? Lay?

Anyway, there's a foundation, comprised of bricks. One brick set next to another, then bricks set on top of those.

And so forth and so on, until it's as tall as a tower. A big huge, a big honking huge tower, towering over the whole land.

And that's enough. I also have a brick shell and I'm going to crawl back into it. Good night and may all your dreams be at night.

Working On The Building

I'm busy working on the building.

That is, patiently and diligently doing the construction work needed on the building.

The building has its foundation, which needs to be carefully planned and put into place.

Then it's a matter of building on the foundation, which to a large extent, of course, is determinative of what I'm going to end up with.

How I build and what I build with are both critical.

I will seek to exercise the utmost care and concern not only with the process of building but with my idea of what the outcome should be.

Toward the end: windows, drywall, fixtures, outlets, wallpaper, and all the fixins' will give it a fabulous air of refinement and dignity.

Then I will be able to welcome in guests, visitors, and people on tour, to tour it and take away ideas and inspiration for their own place.

My Subconscious Feelings Are Bad

Life is one big blacklist you never get off of.

They look at you with an evil eye and you can't help but feel subconscious.

I'm subconscious about my weight, my hair, my bad teeth, and my damaged car.

They tell you don't worry about it. Which is just another trick to keep you in your place.

Anyway, I shouldn't say anything more about it. I've said enough.

Even my terrible subconsciousness is stifling me HERE.

This Thanksgiving

My Thanksgiving tweet:

On this beautiful Thanksgiving day, I'm most thankful that my enemies have either been completely destroyed or seriously neutralized.

Seriously neutralized! Seriously, I don't have any enemies. Not this week anyway. Who knows, some might flare up next week. But as for this week and today the world is at blissful rest.

We endured a turkey today. Turkey is one of those meats that sounds better in theory than it turns out to be in practice. It's never quite as good as you think it should be. It has a weird stringiness, striations both in the white meat and the dark. The drumsticks seem like they have odd additions, unlike chicken legs. I think if you weren't really picky and careful you could easily die eating a turkey drumstick.

Then there's the unpleasant leftovers. I haven't had any yet. I'm thinking about going and having a slice. Because hope springs eternal. I hope it will be good even though I know at some level it won't be.

And finally, what's worse than the tiredness you get after eating turkey? We've all heard it by now, so maybe it's psychological. But they say it's in the meat. I don't remember getting tired as a kid after eating it. But when you're a kid you have a lot of natural bounce in your step that you lose later. So we were down for a very necessary nap. I even gave the dog a little bowl of turkey, and she, like always, also took a nap.

I'm thankful Thanksgiving only comes once a year.

Didn't I Write About Oblivion?

I thought I did. I guess I wrote a tweet, that was it.

It was this:

I can barely report anything because the oblivion is so thick around me.

That's true. I have very very thick oblivion all around me. Making it so I can barely even speak. My mouth is hushed.

The Land Beyond Concept -- Don't Think About It

MORNING:

I ate some chocolate without eating it. It goes around and melts in your mouth.

Still, somehow it finds its way, through gravity and a lack of other options, out of my mouth to my belly.

From there, it's a matter of whatever consciousness takes over after I've had the pleasure of taste.

In that consciousness, still rooted in something very physical but taking over without apparent will, the process goes on.

It's an illustration -- like everything is, actually -- of the Land Beyond Concept.

I think I've love to visit the Land Beyond Concept. But of course that's where we all live anyway.

It's just that we stack up concepts all around it, like a big wooden fort in the old westerns.

I'm standing here, like corn inside the husk, or a banana inside the peel, like the maize queen on a brand of corn meal.

Strip off the husk, pull the peel down, get the carton out of the way, and what remains is the essential thing in itself.

Then get to the heart of that -- the inner heart -- and arrive at the Land Beyond Concept.

Now we can wander and frolic, whichever, and know all things without having to think about it.

Hanging On My Every Word

To think of everyone "hanging on my every word" is a great honor. Thank you.

But it's also something that fills me with dread, to think of all the responsibility, to think I have to fulfill all those expectations.

It's tough to jump on cue, tough to perform when there are so many varied expectations. I don't know which way to go.

For a while I can handle it. I put something out here. Say a few things and hope for the best. It helps if I'm feeling creative.

But then, as life normally goes, my creative spark goes out, my creative juices dry up, and I'm left floundering.

Then I'm thinking of what I can't go, plus the expectations everyone has, plus my own expectations of myself to fulfill the demand.

Obviously at some point you start thinking it can't go on that way forever. And it can't. Something got to give.

But don't give up on me. All is not lost. I have ideas.

The basic way to deal with this is to break out of a particular cycle, and start in on something lower key, but still with integrity.

Just say something different. Anything. Give them something. Throw out some red meat.

Then you're looking for a groove, trying to find a groove.

You don't want to give up what you're known for. That's still your bread and butter, but you're expanding your repertoire, as it were.

So, anyway, thanks again. I appreciate it, no matter if there come those times I have to shrink back and regroup.

You're still all all right with me, and let's keep it that way.

You keep "hanging on my every word" and I'll keep on trying to do my best. That's an agreement you can believe.

Goodnight.

My Morning Moxie On The Ball

MORNING:

I'm about drifting off. Thinking how tired, how tired... Then I remember, I'm up, I need to be at 'em. There'll be time for sleeping later.

Being "up and at 'em" means having a certain level of attitude -- confidence, pride, self-esteem, and trust.

But such qualities are sometimes nebulous, tough to understand fully and conceptualize.

I try to think of it in terms of themes, phrases that I can think of through the course of a day, to remind myself of my aims and abilities.

Today -- Moxie on the Ball. The terms "moxie" and "ball," I don't know what they mean in the dictionary sense. But I know them psychically.

You have "moxie" and it means something like creative potential, inner strength and purpose pumped out of some innerterranean well.

And "on the ball" means being alert to it, aware of what your potential is in relation to the moxie. My mom used to say "Get on the ball!"

Get with it. Get with the plan. Get with the program. Put your creativity to the test, go through life with the confidence you need.

So today I'll be off doing many things -- some things I can predict, some I can't. For all things, I will depend on my Moxie on the Ball.

So can you!

Down For The Count -- Not

EVENING:

I thought I was "Down For The Count," since I was feeling low, down, full of remorse and empty.

So I made serious preparations to examine my personal status, what it meant to be Down For The Count.

And that really is the way it seemed -- there was no hope. The more I thought about it, the emptier I felt.

But then something weird happened. As soon as I started putting effort into describing being Down For The Count, it all switched around.

Just like that -- in a matter of seconds of this reflection -- instead of being Down For The Count, I'm up with new ideas, total renewal.

So I don't know why I had the conviction that I was Down For The Count. It's just another case of what we allow. We think it and it happens.

Anyway, praise be. I'm back and feeling pretty good.

But I'm going to save my next big confidence, self-esteem, Drive-for-Pride push till tomorrow.

And I'll hope that the renewed conviction I have today will still be with me tomorrow. Send good thoughts in my general direction.

Yes, yes, yes. Everything will turn out well. There's no necessary downturn. I'm not Down For The Count. I'm back up and at 'em, doing well!

I'm swinging, it's happening, I'm with it. My motor's runnin' again. There's nothing a little thought can't cure. Take it to the bank!