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about what you say or do.
Your right can turn out wrong
and your wrong can turn out true.
So there I was argueing with tsuwm and fallible and faldage and etaoin about the relative merits of Science fiction writer "James P. Hogan" (I stopped reading Science Fiction back when I became bewitched by R. A.Laferty because after Lafferty, all else was pablum.) when tsuwn out of the blue suggested that I read "Inherit The Wind" in order to get a proper literary handle on Hogan, so I went to the library to check the book out. I did, but I didn't read the book.
Instead I remembered the Google Goggle thread started by Plutarch that gave chat to the coming Internet Library that in a few years will allow unrestricted access to 150 million books. This gave me an idea...'til then, Milo - stupid, why not take advantage of the interlibrary loan program already in effect and ask for an obscure book by R.A. Lafferty?
I did, and the University of Geogia sent it, and I never did read Hogan.
But see how things work! Now I will share a Christmas thought (sorta) that Lafferty wrote in his 1971 book "The Devil Is Dead".
__________________________________________________
"Don Lewis and Joe Cross were people who belonged, belonged with such as Finnegan and Anastasia, belonged with good people everywhere.
Harry Scott, Art Emery, and Chris McAbney were people who do not belong, the other sort of people. There are only two sorts of people in the world, and they are these two sorts. Unless you understand this, you belong to the wrong sort, and you can go to Hell with Harry and Art and Cris and nobody will care: you belong in Hell."
_____________________________________________________
And so, dear friends from me and Lafferty and Finnegan and Anastasia and Don and Joe,
Merry Christmas to the right sort of you, and as for the rest of you...well, you know what you can do...but have a good day!
Well, the trouble with the right sort, themilum, is they are often caught consorting with the wrong sort.
The wrong sort, on the other hand, have no compunctions about consorting with the right sort, leaving the rest of us out of sorts trying to sort out one sort from the other.
BTW I feel somewhat naked without adding a smiley, but I'm going to give it a try ... in the spirit of the season.
Merry Christmas, themilum.
But, because it is Christmas I will not post a sarcastic smiley after my comments here today. You did it; and I can too.
Merry Christmas to you and thank you for being you.
- Milum
_________________________________________I lied.
Many things we like "best" are best left at a distance, themilum [if we know what's good for us].
re "I will not post a sarcastic smiley"
I can count on one hand the number of times I have posted a "sarcastic smiley", themilum -- and that includes all the hands of all of my sock puppets, now long retired.
Oh what a tangled web we meet
When in a smiley we see deceit.
re "How can we be electronic friends if we go about being ever-so-nice to one another. We can't. If we did we would become phoney and what fun is that?"
So long as we keep speaking our own truths honestly, themilum, there is no danger that either of us will ever "become phoney" -- and no danger that anyone will confuse us as sock puppets either.
How could anyone be a "phoney" who speaks his truth, themilum?
Perhaps I can be forgiven for quoting my favorite passage from Hamlet on this one day of all days of the year:
"This above all: to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man."
The same oration also includes this advice from Polonius to his son, Laertes [which some find petty, though I do not]:
"Those friends thou hast, and their adoption tried,
Grapple them to thy soul with hoops of steel;
But do not dull thy palm with entertainment
Of each new-hatch'd, unfledg’d comrade. Beware
Of entrance to a quarrel but, being in,
Bear't that th' opposed may beware of thee.
Give every man thy ear, but few thy voice;
Take each man's censure, but reserve thy judgement."
Hamlet Act 1 Scene 3
Of course they aren't Plutarch, methinks you take my jive words as steel.
Verily...
unkindness strikes a deeper wound than steel, yet it is very much lamented, Brutus,
that you have no such mirrors as will turn your hidden worthiness into your eye,
that you might see your shadow. - Julius Caesar
I need no hand to count the times of my use of a sarcastic smiley.
Sarcasm is juvenile.
I can count my use of smiley sarcasms on an egg.
(Forgive me. Last week I found the cutest little book in a
used book store entitled Slang From Shakespeare and
I have mixed some metaphors and plays in the quote above)
Snorted "Sarcasm is most juvenile,
But it's the best thing I've got
To respond to their rot
When the best that they've got is puerile."
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