An enjoyable look at someone named "Dr. Phil" and gun control.

I am thankful.

I am thankful that every moment of eathly suffering is working for me a far more and exceeding weight of glory.

I am thankful that I am made a citizen of a land invisible and that my hope in that better country will be made complete.

I am thankful that rather than Sinai, I have come to the mount of Zion and have been offered seat in the assembly of the firstborn.

I am thankful that the kingdom of my citizenship cannot be shaken for its lord is a consuming fire and against it no enemy may prevail.

I am thankful that I am granted peace at all times and in every way.

I am thankful that suffering produces hope and further unites me with he who reigns over this world, for a servant is not greater than his master.

I am thankful that I have a name not my own written as blood upon my forehead; I am owned and made honourable slave to glory.

I am thankful that despite the mockery of political liberty, I have been granted true and lasting freedom.

I am thankful that by the blood of innocence, I am made much more than a mere conqueror for neither life nor death nor angels nor rulers nor the now nor the future nor height nor depth nor anything birthed into creation can decline me the love and majestic power of the Lord's strong arm.

I am thankful that I am given the sight of things unseen—that by seeing by faith and not by sight, I see the only sight of surpassing value: I see Christ.

I am thankful.

So windy was it yesterday that Brandon and I watched through the window as a tumbleweed moseyed on by our office.

Yup. The Santanas have finally come. Usually arriving in October, these hot winds are perhaps the strangest thing about living in SoCal. Always at their gust do I feel of strange humour. Hot and dry, they mediate the cool air of sooncoming winter and make derelict the senses of the weak-minded; hence, their arrival more often than not heralds the actions of arsonists and nigh-unstoppable firestorms. I very nearly lost my house to the Santanas in the last week of October in 1993. And yet, for all their heat and devilry, I still enjoy their gusty frolic.

Fortunately Brandon attended my Friday evening lecture and operated as a courtroom artist to depict accurately the mood of the room.

"This is my beloved son, in whom I am well-pleased because he was an honor student at Galilee Elementary." Orf-Kilter may have passed to the great beyond *a moment of anxious silence* but Capt. Rivenburg still makes occasional contribution to the L.A. Times.

The one downside to teaching at CCBC on Friday night is their speedbumps are so big that they tore at the bottom of my car and now my muffler and catalitic converter are hanging off *grrrr*

Vexation #:15 The MPAA Ratings Board
I wish it would just go away. If it was ever useful (I wasn't there in the beginning, but I would suspect it wasn't), it sure isn't now. There are six ratings films can receive for their moral content - and none of these are helpful. How many R-rated films are perfectly suitable for 12-year-olds? Lots. Off the top of my head: Stand by Me, Shawshank Redemption, Schindler's List, Donnie Darko, 12 Monkeys, and the curiously R-rated, To End All Wars.

I don't really know where I'm going with this, but I think the film industry would do better to ignore the MPAARB and simply allow directors to self-censor and release their films unrated. If they really wish it, they can include the stuff that they're already releasing, such as Fight Club - violence, mayhem, a blurry, computer-generated sex dream, obscenities, and a yin-yang coffee table. Actually, why not just release films without warnings and allow a parents favorite watch-dog group to give the Thumbs Up or Down (as they already do). *sigh* I think it really just bothers me because Blockbuster only carries the paired-down version of Requiem for a Dream and I need to see it again before I finish my Top 100 films of all time list *grumble mumble*

So I taught a guest lecture at Calvary Chapel Bible College on Friday night. This was interesting for a number of reasons, but most notably for the fact that I am both not a believer in a Pretribulational Rapture and I would lend my assent to a five-pointed Calvinism. Those with experience know that both doctrines are dealt with in the Calvary Chapel statement of faith. While specific eschatology rarely finds part in a church's confession, more interesting is their negative statement against Calvinism: "We reject: (2) '5-point Calvinism' (i.e., a fatalistic Calvinistic view that leaves no room for free will; specifically, we reject the belief that Jesus' atonement was limited, instead we believe that He died for all people, and we reject the assertion that God's wooing grace cannot be resisted or that He has elected some people to go to hell; instead we believe that anyone who wills to come to Christ may do so)."

Intriguing, no?

In any case, I was somehow invited to teach the final meeting of their Cults and Apologetics course. Brandon, Wendy, Sock Girl#1, and her baby brother were in attendance (and hoping to ask obnoxious questions and watch me flail - fortunately, a couple of ripe students took this task upon themselves and the evening was one of entertainment). As I know very little about cult groups such as Jehovah's Witness, Mormonism, the International Church of Christ, or the Local Church, I taught on apologetics.

Specifically, I taught why apologetics is the devil ;-P

In truth, I used my two hours to give overviews of Evidentialism and Presuppositionalism - and then demonstrated the flaws inherent in both methodologies. Suprisingly, the lecture was well-received by many of the students. I say surprisingly as Calvary Chapel is overflowing with Evidentialist sentiment; they are very interested in Creation Science evangelism, the apologetics of Don Stewart, and many embrace the apologetic systems perpetrated by J.P. Moreland and William Lane Craig.

Who knows, maybe I'll be able to guest lecture a Church History course next semester and give a concise history of the Dispensational movement *grin*

Due to the comments following Fruity Trouble's 12 November post (the 12:o9 one), I think the vernacular-and-therefore-slightly-offensive term to describe those of homosexual inclination should be "ovary." That is all. [and special props to mimi funni pee chang of not cool enough for the dane]

That last joke would have been funnier if more of you knew that my pop was really and truly a potter. He was. A true artisan, he made his living from crafting and selling pottery (and occasionally, beautiful Chinese brush paintings). If I ever get my camera fixed, I'll post some photos of his work 'cause, hey, that'd be fun. He gave it all up six years ago to live as a missionary in Romania with my momma and my baby brother, Joe (the one who just got married). The following is his story describing why he is in Romania.

It was late 1970, and I had gotten out of the Navy earlier that year. The last five years I had gone further and further into the world of drugs. It was the "love" generation—you know, "Peace, love, and smoke it." It sounded neat but it was the same old thing amplified by all the drugs. When I say the same old thing, I mean selfishness. With only a few exceptions, no one really cared about others .

The last two years (1968 'til December 25, 1970), I had taken a lot of LSD—somewhere around 400 trips. I hated it and wanted out, but continued doing it, plus drinking three or four quarts of wine a day and smoking about ten to twenty joints a day. Nothing satisfied me, not surfing, not drugs, not girls. Nothing.

Christmas Day 1970, I went to a concert out in Laguna Canyon. I got there at six in the morning. I drank a bottle of wine with thirteen tabs of "sunshine LSD" in it. What happened for the next ten hours was that I went beyond being loaded, and thought it was the "judgment day." Every person I saw that day, I saw what I had said, thought, or done to them. God was showing me every sin I had done against each person and I was going to Hell. It was the worst smell and darkness was all around me until midday when three girls dressed in white came walking toward me. Everything changed. It was beautiful outside. I smelled the most beautiful aroma. I saw a rainbow. They talked with me for about two or three minutes and left and everything went back to the way it was. Big time judgment day. I was standing at a fork in the road and realized one road went to Hell and one road went to Heaven. God was somehow giving meanother chance, but I didn't know which road led to God. I started screaming out to God to show me the way. All my friends tried talking me down for the next five hours. I finally realized it was an acid trip I was on. At that time I fell on my face and thanked God for another chance.

So for the next few months, I talked with anyone who had a "god-trip." I pretty much just listened because my communication skills were not so good because of all the drugs I'd taken land was still taking). I knew God was my only hope, but who was God? Everybody was telling me, "This is the way to God." The J.W.s, the Hare Krishnas, Self Realization Fellowship people (Om your way to God), Parmahansa Yogananda, Bahai (anyway you want—all roads lead to God). If that was true God must be confused. There is just too much order in His creation. There has to be one true God.

I had moved to Kauai to get out of Laguna Beach and all its drugs. It was the same in Kauai, but I met a Christian lady who asked me to come to a Bible study. It was starting in ten minutes at her house. I said, "Sure...I've tried everything else." It was a women's study—about seven or eight ladies and me. I don't remember much about it except that it was different from anything I'd ever experienced. I left feeling great and I wasn't even loaded. I went the next Friday and then went to church with them the following Tuesday night. I was greeted by a little Hawaiian lady who hugged me. This blew my mind because up to this point, the local Hawaiians had tried to kill me and make my life miserable. Well, they started worshipping God and I raised my hands also, to not look out of place, and to look like I knew what was going on. Well, as we began to worship, something started happening inside. I never felt so good in all my life. The pastor gave his message. They had an altar call and I went forward. The whole church went crazy as I was the first person to accept the Lord in over two years.

That was February, 1971. I really wanted to read the Bible, but all my drug use had left me with the inability to read. One of the ladies at the study told me to ask God for the ability to read, and to give me a new mind. She encouraged me for many weeks, telling me that if it was the desire of my heart to be able to read the Bible, God would grant me that request. Well, about three months had passed and I'd open my Bible every day and ask for understanding. In the meantime, I had moved back to California and was backpacking through the Sierras. I took my Bible out one morning, opened it up, prayed, and God healed my mind in a moment. I spent the next week reading the Bible. I couldn't put it down. I read the entire New Testament in that week. And my life has never been the same. God replaced my desire for drugs with a desire to serve Him. I spent the better part of the next year-and-a-half witnessing to people on the beach and attending Calvary Chapel Costa Mesa (when it was relatively small—500 or so people). Then it moved to the tent and there was a massive explosion of people getting saved.

I met Krista in June of 1972 and we got married in October of that year. We've been involvedin a few different churches along with our kids, Seth and Joey.

It's been twenty two years since Christ drew me to Himself [this was originally written in 1994], and it just gets better all the time. God is so faithful and if we just yield our lives to Him, there is no limit to what He can do through us. I'm doing things I never thought I'd ever be able to do; with God truly all things are possible. If I could encourage anyone in something, it would be to get God's word in you, as much of it as you can. My Scripture for you is 2 Timothy 3: 16, 17. God bless you.

Because the timing is right:

My dad was a Hairy Potter
(note well the telltale scar)

Vexation #14: Region-Specific DVD Players
I'm really surprised I haven't touched upon this before now. Those of you familiar with DVDs and their technicalities have at least a modicum of famiarity with that little spec known as the disc's Region. American discs are Region 1, Euro disc's are Region 2, ASian are region somethin' else, and cetera.

So what is so vexing in this? The design (originally meant to infringe upon blackmarket sales of DVDs) is such that my otherwise wonderful Sony player cannot play any Region save Region 1. While at first this was a minor annoyance, it has now reached the level of Vexation. Not only have I had a copy of Cinema Paradiso that has sat unwatched, but when I was browsing shelves in Europe, salivating over the inexpensive collection available me, I had to reign myself in, remembering that each disc contained nothing but blackness for my player. And now, I have a collection of Hayao Miyazaki's animated works flying in from Asia that may, or may not, play. Not only this, if I decide at any point to expatriate, I will either need to buy a second player or invest in one of the newer multi-region players—as I own over 175 films, whatever my solution, it wil require at least something with Region 1 compatibility.

Now most players have a simple remote control Left-Right-Left-Right-B-A-B-A code to free it from region-specific play. Of course I had to buy a Sony. Going for reliability, I bought (four years ago) a system with a reputable name. Little did I know that this would become an issue down the road or that Sony would be one of the few machines out there with no such built-in code. Instead, I supposedly have the option of getting my machine 'chipped.' This entails the addition of a piece of hardware (I imagine) to my machine's innards. Not only would this cost me, but thusfar, I can find no place that will perform such an operation. The places I've visited were scandalized that I would suggest such activities.

Now I don't get this, as companies are now producing multi-region players! Why can it be wrong to upgrade an outdated machine? Grr... and why were disc Regions even created in the first place? Who's numbskull idea was this anyway? And does anyone have any viable solutions for me (one's that don't involve purchasing a second player)?

Guess who doesn't have internet at home for the next two weeks? *grumble mumble*

My Top 5 Film Couples

(in no order beyond alphabetical)

Bogart & Bacall - To Have and Have Not and The Big Sleep

Bogart & Bergman - Casablanca

Clooney & Lopez - Out of Sight

Crystal & Ryan - When Harry Met Sally

Lewis (Daniel Day) & Stowe - The Last of the Mohicans

Okay. I want all of you so-called pragmatists to stop living in a faery world. Voting for a ticket whose platform you only "sorta agree with" when there exists a third-party candidate who would govern closer to what you would wish from your government is not in any way pragmatic. What it is my dear deluded friends, Romans, and countrypersons is idealism at its height.

First, the pragmatist operates in all circumstances in the manner most expedient to his goals. It is the idealist who operates in a manner unconcerned with the rigorous establishment of a goal while believing optimistically that things will work out. Let's demonstrate this by an election example.

A voter favours the political goals and governing style of a third-party candidate but votes for a mainline candidate instead. Voting for a lesser candidate because he has a better chance of election than the favoured candidate is not only not utile to the voter's stated desire, but tacitly confirms the desirability of more candidates in the mould of the lesser candidate. While the voter may win the election, he really hasn't won because the candidate he elected does not share his ideology and will make many more distasteful policy-choices than the voter's optimal candidate would have. On top of this, the now-elected official is incumbent and so the likelihood of his ejection next term in favour of a candidate more to the voter's liking is lower than ever (for the official's party rarely rejects incumbents from being their candidate of choice). Further, the mainline party he voted for will offer more candidates who are similar in belief and practice to the winner. Therefore, the voter's goal of having a governing official who represents the voter's views will never be realized: he will continue to vote for those with whom he only sort of agrees while he idealistically hopes for a mainline candidate with whom he fully agrees to magically step to the fore.

That sounds like a wasted vote to me.

A more pragmatic approach, though not necessarily one that will see immediate fruit is to vote one's conscience. The pragmatist recognizes that neither of the status quo parties model the traits he desires in his government. In fact, they are more like each other than either is like to this third-party ticket. The realist recognizes that though one of the mainline tickets is slightly closer to his ideal than is the other, the most expedient thing to do is choose for that which he truly desires.

In the beginning, his candidate of choice will probably lose. But he has not thrown away his vote. If the number of people who chose his third-party candidate are too insignificant to affect the election, he did not waste his vote because it did not matter in one way or in the other. If the number of people who chose his candidate affect the election, causing "the lesser of two evils" to lose, he has not wasted his vote - for he has sent a clear message to they who relied upon his support that their platform needs rebuilding. The longer that he and those like him hold out for what they fell is worth electing, the closer the mainline choice that was nearest them will come to resemble that for which they desired. On top of this, the more support this third party gets, the more likely it is to have a noteworthy affect on the political scene.

Pragmatic? Yes. Utilitarian? Sure. Realistic? You betcha. A wasted vote? Not remotely.

So really, vote how you wish, but never imagine that voting for the candidate that you'd really rather prefer is in any form a wasted vote. That's just the propaganda of the Big Two step on your senses. Disillusion yourselves of that and you'll do alright. Who knows - you may even get a governor/president/senator/representative that you can honestly back.

Curiously, everyone I haven't seen in some time has been telling me the same thing: "Wow! You've put on weight!" And this is followed immediately by something along the lines of "This is the best you've looked!" or "You look great!" or "Finally! You look good!" or this morning's "You wear it well!" Strange, don'tcha think? So many people look better the leaner they get - I look better the fatter I get. It's skinny guy curse/blessing I guess. I'm five feet and thirteen inches tall (roughly) and until I was twenty-five years old, I weighed 155 lbs. Allow me to assure you: this is quite thin for someone in their mid-twenties. Then I stopped working in the restaurant business and began putting on weight while sitting behind a desk at my dot-org. I'm now circling to land at 190 lbs. I'm still not fat by any stretch, but 40 lbs. is a noticeable difference. I've finally filled out and I'm being congratualted on it. Strange, huh? Well, here's hoping that 40 lbs in four years isn't going to be a continuing trend ;-)

[for those who have yet to catch on to the measuring system that has swept America and is coming soon to a country near you: a handy-dandy lbs-to-kilos-and-back-again measurement converter. For those to whom 190 lbs. means nothing, I weighed 68 Kgs in 1995 and weigh 86 Kgs now - making 40 lbs. the rough equivalent of 18 Kgs // p.s. I don't know what a stone is either, so don't feel bad]

A Vintage Conversation
On Girl Scouts and Other Things of a Devious Nature
6 April 1999

If you find this typical Danish converse to be too lenghthy, you may fast forward to the important explanation of the villainy of the Girl Scouts. But otherwise, I recommend the whole thing - for the sake of context]

HappyJoy: Greetings, Ancient ;-)
HJ: say something with a pirate accent
HJ: for my sister
TheDane: Arg, maytey! Eef ye be not polite to yer sister, ye may be gettin' a cootless in th' gullet for yer troubles! So look thar' to yer manners, Scalawag!
HJ: she says "that's funny"
TD: Sith and Begorah!! If she thinks that be a worthy yarn, she be oughtten to travel the Blue Sevens with me ship o' fools! Tho' we may farce 'er to walk the gang jus' for laugh.
TD: Har har har
HJ: kjksd kuaid nnfjgh dhhfh hgjchhhd fgjhhd?
TD: No pieces of eight for you and yuir bloody accent so thick that no man could discover it's treasure
HJ: my sis says you should be a comedian
TD: I wanted to be one in Junior High, but I found out I got stage fright
TD: I don't anymore, but for some reason I no longer care to be a comedian...go figger
TD: Maybe I'll take over "Orf Keelter" when Sergeant-at-Arms Rivenburg is pushing up daisies
HJ: hehe good idea
TD: Hey do you know how to get a character for "enye": the N with a ~ above it?
HJ: hmmmmm........I will find out
HJ: look under accessories and see if you have a character map
HJ: 0241
HJ: ñ
TD: ooh...I found it
TD: yahoo...tanks
TD: You learn somethin' new every other day!
HJ: know what?
TD: what do I know?
HJ: how would i know?
TD: know what?
HJ: what do i know?
TD: I dunno...you were gonna tell me
HJ: never mind
HJ: hehe:-)
TD: aww...you can't do that
TD: it's against the rules
HJ: what rules?
TD: The Rules.
HJ: oh, The Rules!
HJ: so what are The Rules?
TD: yeah...so you can't raise someone's expectation for potential information and then quench that newfound lust for knowledge with a simple "never mind"
TD: it's against The Rules!
HJ: but wait...
HJ: you already learned something new today
HJ: I can't tell you until the day after tomorrow
HJ: or it would be against The Rules
TD: Then...we'll call it surplus so I can take a vacation on Thursday
TD: No...The Rules definitely allow for surpluses
TD: besides I think the "learn something new every other day" is a minor rule that is at all times subject to the governing of The Rules
HJ: what exactly are these rules?
TD: Which ones?
HJ: The Rules
TD: The Rules are unwritten and largely unfelt, but they govern the entire matrices of societies and allow their continued existence.
TD: It is when societies neglect or even establish "new" rules that civilizations fall
TD: This happened with Rome, Babylon, and Byzantium
TD: Don't let it happen to you
HJ: I'm not a civilization
HJ: nor do I wish to be
TD: I'll say you're not
TD: barely even civilized
HJ: and you?
TD: with the way in which you toss around the Rules as if they were so much chattel
TD: I am definitely civilized and an abider in the righteousness expressed in The Rules
HJ: so how do you know what all The Rules are?
TD: They are written on the hearts of all men
HJ: yeah, and The Rules say you can only learn something every other day
TD: no they don't
HJ: ok then...
TD: I said that...and you even misquote me
HJ: is misquoting against The Rules?
TD: that minor rule states that you learn something new at least every other day
TD: key is "at least"
HJ: oh, at least
HJ: well you didnt say that
TD: that's because I was giving you the colloquial short form of the minor rule
HJ: I see
TD: misquoting is not against the rules, but people in general don't like it
HJ: and you are "people in general"?
TD: I am a people in lieutenant
TD: haven't made the rank of general yet
TD: I'm too young
HJ: ha!
TD: (Wow...I made her laugh...that must be my clue to get out while the goings good)
TD: um...I think I should go now
HJ: yeah, and my sister laughed too
HJ: you'd better leave
TD: I need to get some work done so I don't get fired
TD: I'll talk to you later if you're still alive
HJ: is that a warning?
TD: You never can tell what will happen if you cross The Rules
HJ: should I tell my sis about the Unicycler?
TD: shhh...durnit no
HJ: anything in The Rules about bombing schools?
TD: don't tell her how me and two others make up the team of the Tricycles
TD: Yeah...only once a month...
TD: and never if you get pestered into doing it by one of the students
HJ: would you like the name of my sister's school? (I'm not pestering you!)
TD: No that's alright...I've got a big enough list of potentials to last well into the millennium
TD: if schools still exist after Y2k
HJ: hehe but do you have enough bombs?
TD: I buy 'em for pretty cheap down at the Circle-K
HJ: hehehe thanks for telling me...
TD: later days willie mays
HJ: bye

[a brief respite]

TD: Welcome back thou who art shorter by a little bit than I
HJ: lol
HJ: a little bit!
HJ: I used to be a Girl Scout...
TD: oh?
TD: oh.... uh oh
TD: well...it's a good thing you escaped!
HJ: yeah
HJ: it sucked
TD: ha
TD: I don't think I'd wanna be one myself
HJ: what?
TD: what what?
HJ: what ha?
TD: I found "it sucked" to be mildly humourous and so I laughed
TD: I wasn't laugh at you; I was laugh with joy that someone else shares my Girl Scout-related perspective
TD: add "ing"s wherever necessary
HJ: well I'm not against girl scouts in general (or corporal, sergeant, etc.) but my personal experience as a girl scout was pretty bad
TD: heh heh
TD: what happened to you in G Scouts?
TD: p.s. kudos on the corporal/sergeant thing (funny)
HJ: well first...
HJ: the only brownie troop i could join
HJ: was really strange and we met at night
HJ: at all of our houses
HJ: and....i don’t know
HJ: it wasn't even a normal troop
TD: really strange? like sacrifice cats and torture small children strange?
HJ: no, not that strange
TD: So it wasn't like boys scouts then?
HJ: hehe no
TD: whew
HJ: in Girl Scouts you make stupid crafts
TD: ooh...like witchcrafts?
TD: i never trusted those dang girls scouts
HJ: lol no
HJ: well the next troop i was in was ok, but I was the oldest one in it
HJ: and when I was too old to be a brownie
HJ: i had to switch
TD: wow...and your so young too...:-)
HJ: yeah well my next troop *shudder* was the worst one
TD: yikes
TD: cats and small children?
HJ: it was full of.... bubbly people
TD: eww...even worse
HJ: they were all snobby
HJ: and they didn't like me
HJ: even the one from my church
TD: Wow...that sux
HJ: told you it sucked
TD: These are just some of the reasons I have begun my silent crusade against the Girls Scouts
HJ: don't you even like the cookies?
TD: only the thin mints
HJ: that was the good thing about being a girl scout
HJ: plenty of cookies
TD: I beat up a few girls scout moms and got 13 boxes this spring!
HJ: what about samoas?
TD: nope...only thin mints for me
HJ: hm
HJ: one year they had this new cookie
HJ: called Juliettes
HJ: and I loved it
HJ: but they stopped making it
TD: Did they taste like Juliet?
HJ: yes....
TD: mmmm
TD: She was always my favorite
HJ: no, they tasted like carmel and chocolate

[the goods]

TD: In the most recent edition of the journal I write for my high school group, I begin my crusade against the girl scouts
TD: and the Vatican.... but the girl scouts are more powerful
HJ: are they?
TD: they try to keep a low profile but I've spied out there dirty little secrets...
TD: the Kennedy assassination... the bay of pigs.... Hitler's rise to power... The Spice Girls...
HJ: AHHHHHHH
HJ: please don’t even mention the spice girls
TD: You name it and their dirty little mittens are right in there
TD: They’re also the guiding influence behind N'sync and the Backstreet Boyz
TD: But you didn't hear it from me
HJ: of course not
HJ: right.....you're probably a double agent
TD: I actually only use my guise as the Unicycler as a front to gain their trust so I might infiltrate there worldwide organization and cut them off at the head
HJ: I see
TD: I was commissioned by Ronald Reagan in the mid-80s to operate as a mole...
HJ: and are the Girl Scouts aware of The Rules?
TD: I only mention this to you because I feel I can trust you to keep my secret...people don't just make up stuff about the G Scouts being snobs
TD: The G Scouts are well-aware of the existence and supremacy of The Rules, but they seek to diminish The Power of the Rules by instituting their own evil oaths that while similar, run contrary to The Rules
HJ: ah ha
HJ: is it raining?
TD: nope...and there?
HJ: i think so...
HJ: yeah
TD: there must be girl scouts around then....it only rains when then are around
HJ: really?
HJ: and where is "around"?
TD: yes...most people don't realize it, but there is an intense populous of G Scouts living in Brazil (this is why is rains there so much)
HJ: oh I see
TD: G Scouts actually originally grow from the trees in the Rain Forest
HJ: so girl scout wasn’t founded by Juliet Lowe?
HJ: (was that her name?)
TD: then these G Scout seedling travel the world in a furious attempt to brainwash and subdue the world population of young women
TD: in a way, they were
HJ: .........and............
TD: Back in 1478, a strange craft (perhaps a witchcraft) made its way through the ground and appeared in the midst of Machu Pichu (then the center of Incan activity) and the name of the craft was the Juliet Lowe.
HJ: brb--stay here
TD: k
HJ: ok keep going about the G Scouts
TD: From out of the belly of this mechanical beast, spewed forth many a small brownie (armed to the teeth of course!) which within hours had consumed the entire Incan population of that once great city.

After their victory, the Juliet Lowe transported all the G Scout seedlings out of the Andes and into the Amazon river basin where they flourished for many years undetected.

In the late 19th Century, word had reached a young man by the name of Falstinov Athanatius Whitefield (a recent transplant from Britain of a mother who read too many Russian novels).
TD: :-)
HJ: .....
TD: Young Falstinov knew very well what he must do; and so he spent the early decades of his 134 year life forming a brigade to battle this monstrous force amassing in the jungles of the Amazon.
TD: He called them at the time "The Boy Scouts"
TD: In the early 20th Century, they were a spectacular battle force quite unparalleled in their cunning.
TD: This was daunting for the G Scouts, because no matter their tactic, it seems these upstart B Scouts were "always prepared"
HJ: lol
TD: But back in the bowels of the great ship, Juliet Lowe, the triad-mind behind the G Scouts hatched an insidious plan
TD: They began what are now known as the twin World Wars
TD: The B Scouts, actually against the wishes of honorable Falstinov, were distracted by what they viewed as an immediate threat to civilization (a massive breaking of The Rules)
TD: And so, to protect the world from the supposed immediate threat offered by Hitler and Mussolini (both really G Scouts by the way), they en masse traveled off to the battle fields of Europe
TD: Many noble protectors died in that war
TD: Oddly enough, the G Scout cared not whether the Boy Scouts were killed or not...
TD: They had what they wanted:
TD: Unhampered access to the training grounds for all future B Scouts!!!
TD: While all were away in the wars, the G Scout scouts altered the training packets to be handed to new B Scout recruits in such a manner that within decades, they would breed themselves into weakness and ambivalence toward the threat of the G Scouts
TD: All would've been lost if it weren't for the resourcefulness of their once great leader Falstinov Athantius Whitefield!
TD: Seeing his hopes crumbling before his own tired eyes, Falstinov entered the Hollywood circle of his friends to speak with Errol Flynn (a well-known vanguard of the public good) about the comings and goings of the malevolent usurpers
TD: Flynn (who incidentally died in the 50s in a dark alley surrounded by G Scouts--he went down fighting...bless him) who was working on a Nazi-buster film called "Desperate Journey" introduced Falstinov to his co-stars from the film:
TD: Alan Hale and Ronald Reagan.
TD: Though Hale would soon be destroyed (in much the same manner as Flynn) through his careless dealings with crooked pro-G Scout officials in L.A. government during the water crisis, Reagan would go on to be one of Falstinov's greatest allies.
TD: Up until Falstinov's unexplained murder (they found his throat slashed with bits of chocolate and mint at the edges of his torn flesh) in 1984, Reagan had kept his terrible secret from all the world
TD: At a loss of how to proceed, Reagan took a chance with a little-known but talented young spy from Southern California (incidentally, one of Errol's favorite haunts).
TD: After, passing the torch to this young wonder, Reagan was soon discredited and infected by the GScouts with the dreaded Alzheimer’s Disease
TD: This Alzheimer's Disease doesn't really affect one in the least, but it causes all who encounter the infected person to believe that person is going crazy
TD: So now, none trust Reagan because they think he is slowly going mad
TD: So now it is up to this young spy to thwart the evil that shall soon devour the world into chaos unless halted.
TD: And the rest as they say, is history
TD: ...or perhaps future I suppose.
HJ: *clap clap*
TD: So now you know:-)

For some crazy, R-Rated Romanian wedding action caught on film by paparazzi, click here. Remember, you were warned!

Since Jim mentions Eco's new book, Baudolino, I thought now would be a opportune time to relate this brief episode circumscribing my own purchase of the new book. Not having yet read it, I can only rely on back-of-book remarks and online synopses, but supposedly the book speaks to the absence of any such thing as an absolute so far as truth is concerned. This presentation of things not as they seem found humourous example in the very form of the book I purchased. Upon bringing it home, I opened the brief (by Eco standards) volume and found all the text to be upsidedown and backwards! I was astonished for a moment 'til the recognition of truth set in: the book's jacket was simply on backwards. I found this amusing. The end.