SCUBA LASER: whataboutism nothingburger

I woke up thinking about how much I hate all acronyms. NATO; NAFTA; CIA; NSA; etc. There are only two acronyms that I love: SCUBA and LASER. I guess I could also add MASER, which is defined as “a device that uses the stimulated emission of radiation by excited atoms to amplify or generate coherent monochromatic electromagnetic radiation in the microwave range”. — I copied that directly from the dictionary. Tighten it up and it yields: “Microwave Amplification by the Stimulated Emission of Radiation”; and LASER simply replaces that ‘M’-word with “Light”. Of course, SCUBA means “Self-Contained Underwater Breathing Apparatus”. Also I enjoy “whataboutism” and “nothingburger”; that’s why I added those two words to the title.

This week, in the mail, I received a summons to serve on a U.S. federal jury. The officially worded letter ordered me to fill out an application form and prepare to be “on call” thru the months of March and April. Here’s the problem: God has blessed me with social anxiety. That means that whenever I enter a room full of humans who are all arguing about the fate of a potential criminal, I grow nervous and lose the ability to think clearly: I cannot weigh facts or measure proper conduct; my decision-making faculty is clouded. So I will make a sloppy juror. 

But I checked out from my local library the box set of David Lynch’s latest film, which is the 18-hour third season of TWIN PEAKS, and I really liked it this time. When I first viewed it on the television, during its premier showing (I subscribed to a cable network that I was never formally a member of, just to see Lynch’s work when it was originally released), I disliked it intensely. Episode by episode, I recorded my dissatisfaction in my diary; but now I’m pleased to admit that I was wrong: this time, I really loved it. In my own personal case, it helped to watch the work as one long film, as opposed to thinking of it as numerous individual cliffhangers. The project has a relaxed pacing that is attractive when you forget that it was supposed to be a TV show. Maybe it also helps to endure being let down first, so that you can return to the series with an attitude that sez “I know what I’m getting into here, and it ain’t going to be pretty.” For then it actually seems pretty pretty.

Money is fake: never forget that. Debt is fake. It’s all a game; it’s playacting. You can stop anytime you like, if you’re ready to die.

Another thot on males & females: I might be wrong about this, but, to me, men seem always to be attempting to conquer things; and women seem always to be attempting to nurture things. Men will ruin decent situations because they can’t stop themselves from indulging in the conquering instinct; and women will ruin decent situations because they can’t stop themselves from indulging in the nurturing instinct. Neither sex will leave well enough alone.

Also very many people love little babies and animals, particularly housepets, because such beings cannot talk. Once a being learns how to master the English language, watch out: that being will thereby inherit enemies.

Why does every person wish to be a wise poet tho? Why not instead desire to be an unattractive slob? I myself am a slob—not necessarily unattractive (I find myself extremely attractive, for the record)—and I feel happy. I just sit around all day and think and sing. A fat bear who loves honey.