deacon's corner

My Thoughts

“When you tear out a man’s tongue,” George R. R. Martin writes, “you are not proving him a liar, you’re only telling the world that you fear what he might say.” Now, someone—I no longer can recall who—upon hearing this would no doubt head-bobble, grin, and cackle, “Now, honey, ain’t that just the gawd-awfullest truth!” It sure seems that way these days, especially with all the social media technocrats and guvmint bombasticrats and public health dictators-for-life working overtime to muzzle anyone daring to dissent from their orthodoxy. Of what or whom are they afraid, exactly?

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My Thoughts

That the ruling class and their corporate sycophants have gone completely off the rails is denied by no one with an ounce of commonsense. It doesn’t take a college degree—especially one acquired over the last decade or so—to recognize an idiot spewing forth ideological nonsense. Even a preschooler could recognize a moron pretending to be smarter than a third grader. Unfortunately for our nation, the inmates have escaped the asylum and believe they are in charge.

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My Thoughts

In this mad mad mad mad world, I find it both interesting and puzzling why no one has remarked on the appalling absence of a simple acronym. While one might consider it unintentional or merely unnecessary, the motive seems rather obvious and too suspect to be either. For one thing, the not-so-subtle reordering of the three word phrase speaks volumes, leaving little doubt that someone has recognized the obvious before anyone could dare encipher the acronym.

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My Thoughts

One of the finest pleasures of solitude is the absence of the insistent clamorous mob. Though there are some who find my refusal to join the herds of the masked and compliant in search of what I know not, I have so thoroughly enjoyed the sublimity of indulging my mind with rich ambrosia, food of the gods like no other. Along the way, I have been introduced to new friends, though never met, with whom I share a bond worth a lifetime of memories. What regret lies only in its newness; old friends are so hard to come by these days.

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My Thoughts

There are times for whom the poets rhyme. I am reminded of the mouse which Robert Burns once offered a wee bit of Scottish solicitude.

But Mousie, thou art no thy lane,
In proving foresight may be vain:
The best-laid schemes o’ mice an’ men,
Gang aft a-gley,
An’ lea’e us nought but grief an’ pain,
For promis’d joy.

My best laid schemes were to make copious notes on our daily meanderings but alas, it is Thursday and we sailed on Tuesday. Where the days and my plans went, like Burns, they have Gang aft a-gley (gone awry). The reality is, thirty-six or so hours of airports and airplanes plus nine hours of shifting zones and more wink than nod made for rather short temperament and an overwhelming demand to “sleep, perchance to dream” for more hours than I can now remember. And remember much, I cannot recall.

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My Thoughts

Arrived in Miami this morning, or I suppose to be accurate, the Miami airport. Accuracy matters, you know. Arrived at 7:00 am with a mere eleven hours to kill before leaving for Barcelona. There is only so much one can do in an airport, even one as modern and active as MIA. After having sat for six crowded hours in the most horrendous torture chamber ever contrived by man commonly called an airline seat, the last thing anyone has any desire to do is sit down on hard plastic. But that is what I found myself doing for a few minutes. Now that the Communist News Network has been replaced by the Nothing But Corruption fake news channel, it was interesting to see if there was a dime’s worth of difference. There wasn’t; not even a slug nickel’s worth to tell the truth.

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