Ferris wheel... Rodeo...
Those are the first two thoughts that I was born with, this morning. I'm currently uninterested in tying ideas together; I just want to let my thoughts be...
Now I'm thinking of a lion tamer... Now I'm thinking of a curling iron... a cotton-candy machine... a temple with a priestess...
*
I have a love-hate relationship with stand-up comedians. I really do enjoy listening to them perform their routines, especially when their jokes make me laugh; but, even while I'm laughing, I can't help thinking "What are we doing here, listening to some preacher crack jokes while society is being tormented into barbarism?" I don't mean to cast gloom; I just think we should FIRST create a stable environment for genius to thrive, and THEN put on a silly show.
But quickly I realize my error: These comedy shows are not a celebration of society; on the contrary, they exist precisely because modernity is ill: our society is so unhealthy that people need forms of shallow amusement to divert their attention from reality's horror. If humankind were to harmonize into heaven-on-earth, the last thing anyone would want to do is sit and listen to a shallow jokey lecture: instead, everyone would be singing and dancing and caressing each other. Painting and chanting poetry... Children would be happy. And drugs and alcohol would return to being spices of life, not the main course.
A clown with a curly wig and a big round fake red nose, white makeup with a painted-on smile and oversized shoes... Now THAT's funny. (I don't know if I'm joking.)
I like the idea of a clear custom of elegant manners, combined with an extremely permissible sensualism. There's a code of conduct that everyone recognizes willingly, like a sophisticated game that is pleasant to play and which leads to voluptuary indulgence. A nice balance between control and abandon.
*
Now I'm thinking of mittens. I don't know why. Probably because it's cold out. And the thought of mittens naturally leads to the thought of gloves, which leads to those fingerless gloves worn by Officer Duke in the film WRONG COPS (2013). And since I wanted to learn the proper name of this latter style of hand-wear, I did a quick search online: No result was returned — but I did admire this sentence from Wikipedia:
"Mittens provide more thermal protection than gloves, because fingers maintain their warmth better when they are in contact with each other."
This makes me think of sardines, and of people sleeping in bed together. Body heat and fish oil.
Flying trapeze... Carnival... Lights, camera, action... Bathers... Outer space... Jesus reading Isaiah.
*
When clothes come off, one immediately wishes them on again. (The allure of the veil: It's why Pythagoras told his jokes behind a drape.) And when clothes are on, one's sole desire is to tear them off.
The grass is always greener on the other side of the fence. I covet my neighbor's house, cars, servants... But the moment I acquire my neighbor's possessions, via the miracle of white-collar theft, I instantly want to be back in my old shack again, typing up love-letters to Lady Liberty.
*
I do wish I had a bird sanctuary, tho. I'd like to go in there and broadcast feed; then watch as all my feathered friends swooped down to devour the offering. And I'm sure that once I left the vast caged structure, I'd glance in the mirror and note that my bathrobe got plastered with droppings.
*
And I used to like to eat candy bars, but now they don't appeal to me much. I'd still enjoy one, if that's what you gave me for Christmas; but nowadays I'd prefer either opium or unleavened bread.
I like tomato soup, too: it helps evoke primal memories in vegan vampires. Red wine is not nearly as effective.
*
And what is science? Is it a process? a place? a philosophy? perhaps a religion... or anti-religion? ...Is science actually Buddhism?
Fill in the variable: X is to science as Calvin is to Calvinism. — My own answer would be "X equals Jove, because Jove created all the marvels that make up science." What's YOUR answer? (A shrug is not an answer; come on, just take a guess.)
Now I'm thinking of baking cookies. Wouldn't that be fun, to bake some chocolate-chip cookies today? That would put me in the holiday spirit. Then I could bring a huge batch of treats to the local prison and distribute them from cell to cell, shouting: "Ho, ho, ho! Every criminal gets a cookie: take them, eat them, and remember me in your prayers." — The prison warden wouldn't know whether to stop me or allow me to continue, because he would reason within his mind as follows:
"The famous author Bryan Ray is annoying the inmates. That's a good thing. But, on the other hand, Mister Bryan is also annoying everyone else, including me and my prison guards. That's a bad thing."
So the warden would breathe thru his nose for a while, staring intently at the scene before him. Then he would walk over to the coin-operated telephone that is hanging on the wall and dial his home number. His wife (Lady Liberty) would answer, and the warden would say: "Honey, we have a situation here. I need your advice." And the wife would listen to her husband the warden explain the goings-on at the prison; then she would answer:
"Cookies, you say? With chocolate chips inside? Are you seriously telling me that my favorite author Bryan Ray is handing out treats to all of your criminals? That sounds delicious! How might I get a piece of this action?" — And the warden would hang his head and begin to ponder how to reply; but, just then, I Bryan Ray would happen to pass before him with my treat bag, so I'd offer a cookie to the warden, and he would take it and mumble a word of thanks to me. Then I would take out a second cookie and slip it into the warden's shirt pocket and lean close and whisper: "There is an extra treat, for your wife."
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