Waiting for Daylight...

If it were only 4 more years, I'd be happy as a pig in shit... I've got the mental image of my own idealistic "worldview" laying in wait next to Spirit and Opportunity (No shit, Ash, that's their names :-O ) for the first ray of hope to rise on the Martian horizon for this old Royal Astronomer. I've been lying dormant for about 30 years.

It's best for folks like me not to get involved in these types of discussions. I've stated many times that the Sacred Scrolls are in need of a serious rewrite. I think perhaps we could petition our congresspersons to venture into the Forbidden Zone of sanity and take stock once a century of how well the Scrolls are holding up. Perhaps they're afraid of ending up like Taylor... Staring at the ruins of a once great civilization?

Choose a side - are you a chimp, orang, or gorilla? I even felt like the old orangutan (Dr Zaius?) was a Royal Astronomer of the first magnitude. Ah, let the spectacle continue. As you know, each generation becomes smarter than the last! Buhahahahahahahah! Conversely, it's probable that each generation prior was as screwed up as the current... Etc.

Who am I to judge (or, bringing it back home to this thread, who are judges to judge)? And who are we to judge judges? Mike? Judge not and ye shall not be judged (unless of course you are a judge). And so on.

what E-villl lluurrr--kkkks --- in the mind of man.

Recommend a literary diet of at least one/week, for the duration.
(I'm rationing.. lest I run out before we run these pecksniffs Out on a rail, try a few of them and see if the lease on Spandau prison can be renewed: that's where Wolfie and Perle go, for starters.)

I mean, of course -

Venue: Discworld
Creator, Messiah (er, author): Terry Pratchett

Samples:

And elsewhere in Ankh-Morpork, the Fools' Guild was on fire.
This was a problem, because the Guild's fire brigade largely consisted of clowns.
...

Semaphore had been around for centuries, and everyone knew that knowledge had a value and everyone knew that exporting goods was a way of making money. And then, suddenly, someone realized how much money you could make by exporting to Genua by tonight things known in Ankh-Morpork today. And some bright young man in the Street of Cunning Artificers had been unususally cunning.

Knowledge, information, power, words ... flying through the air ... invisible ...
And suddenly the world was tap dancing on quicksand.

[The Fifth Elephant]

...

"I fail to see the problem," said the Supreme Grand Master. In fact, he saw it all too clearly. This was the last hurdle. Help their tiny little minds over this, and he held the world in the palm of his hand. Their stupefyingly unintelligent self-interest hadn't let him down so far, surely it couldn't fail him now ...

...

"Got any suggestions about what we do next, Sergeant?' said Nobby.
Colon didn't reply. I wish Captain Vimes were here, he thought. He wouldn't have known what to do either, but he's got a much better vocabulary to be baffled in.

[Guards! Guards!]

ie Think of the mind-boggling perplexity of the similes of a G. I. Gurdjieff, the incisive quip of an HL (Mencken) and the Truth within a Marx Bros. skit (almost any one). And that doesn't begin to limn the n-dimensional save-phase-space of Mr. Pratchett
[safely: a UK resident :: unlikely to be incarcerated by Fatherland Security].

Any Discwork title can substitute for -

- a Presidential 'speech',
- word of new Chief Justice Clarence Thomas-Scalia (if he's formally adopted) or
- YAN episode of, The Pueriles of Pauline.

Bon appetit - - -

I Who Be
(and Who keeps his face in a Klein bottle, next to the Armagnac)

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