Jesus reveals himself in an trinity-cheese pizza!
Allah speaks through a Scottish spud, after having earlier materialized in a tomato (a miracle!) and on the lid of a Burger King Swirly Cone (the work of the Devil)!
And just this morning, a chubby kid I once went to Jewish summer camp with grew a full-on Lincoln beard and totally gave me the finger from inside a bowl of Fruity Pebbles.
No, really!
Clearly an Aussie pizza, some fruits and veggies, and a Burger King chocolate swirly cone are all desperately trying to tell us something. (The Fruity Pebbles? Well, I suppose there’s a chance I was just reacting to one of the toads I licked after my morning run. But still.)
Messages. Texts.
What does it all mean, I wonder…?
(h/t Mark Steyn)
****
update: Buddha hedge creates a climate of hate.
Not that I’m saying. I’m just saying.
I’m going with exercise induced oxygen deprivation.
Although the toad licking explanation is a bit edgier.
I once saw the face of Traci Lords on a penny…or maybe it was Lincoln. I’m forever confusing the two.
Lincoln’s the taller one with the smaller tits.
And come to think on it, maybe it was Tracy Lords I licked this morning.
Which, that would mean you don’t want to know what I might have done with that toad.
Ce n’est pas Jésus.
Je ne suis pas sûr que je veux manger Tracy Lords.
The long road to oracular rule is as twisted as the entrails being read and the ancient wisdom they contain.
Was the morning run done while wearing a 50-lb weighted vest and juggling 20lb
Indianoriginal American clubs?As long as it wasn’t “Traci” you’re probably ok.
Just the vest, Slart.
My hands are shot. I’m working hard not to pick up a goddamned thing today.
Although I have to go drag a sled, which means I have to try to get the plates on it with my feet, I guess.
I once saw the face of Morris the Cat on a can of 9 Lives.
Which, that couldn’t possibly have been intentional.
If we can read it, then it must be a text!
Dare to disagree with me, you racists, sexists, bigots, homophobes and toad lickers!
me: “I disagree, Ernst. Or rather, I agree that it’s a text, but only because I’ve applied my intent to see it as such. Otherwise, it’s just something that I note looks like a text.”
Ernst: “Why do you want to kill people, moneygrubber?”
Oh, wait —
That’s got to put you in the running for some kind of bizarre statement award or other. Assuming such things exist.
I didn’t say anything about intent one way or the other, did I?
Now bow and scrape before my awesome powers to interpret the will of the spirit kingdom!
Only racists, sexists, bigots, homophobes, and skank lickers dare to disagree with me!
Yes, you did, sir.
Right there.
If a sandpiper walks around and leaves impressions that look like letters forming apparently coherent sentences, is that text? Not very likely.
Be reasonable, Cranky. By your logic the Patrick Frey, Esq. we all know and laugh at behind his back has never authored a text in his life.
[…]
One morning my alphabets cereal accused be of barbarism. It really hurt my feelings.
Then I remembered it was just breakfast food, and doesn’t really know me at all.
Stupid alphabets.
I said bow and scrape before my awesome powers to interpret the will of the spirit kingdom you skank licking toad!
Although that might just be the Dextromethorphan in a cherry flavored suspension talking.
If I can read it, it’s a text. But I’ll grant that it’s more likely to be the cough syrup than the sand pipers supplying the meaning.
Can it be a text if we cannot read it?
If so, then everything is a text.
If it’s not a text if we cannot read it, then whether something is a text depends on the ability of the perceiver. Under those circumstances there is no objective reality.
Is art a text? I would say yes. Is all of creation a text? Probably, though I cannot perceive all of creation. If G-d exists does that make all of creation a text? If G-d does not exist, is all of creation therefore not a text? Is a rock on a beach a text if no human agency placed it? Is it a text if a human agency placed it intending it to be a text?
The phrase, “If I can read it, it’s a text,” is ultimately nonsense when it’s the only given, unless everything you can see is text. I think the idea of all we can see being text is not a bad one, though.
Everything is a text. Thus the difficulty.
Or maybe you think GAIA wasn’t punishing us for giving her hot flashes with all that carbon pollution when she let go with that earthquake and tsunami?
Just to be clear, I’m not endorsing the idea that everything should be a text.
But that doesn’t change the fact that everything’s a text.
Okay, you can have a text without intent, then. I think I’ve convinced myself of that. However, saying “If I can read it, it’s a text” gets you nowhere. One may was well gyre and gimbal in the wabe.
gyre and gimbal away.
Unless you want to try and figure out who the author of the text is, that is.
I mean, maybe I really can read the will of the unseen other other,
or maybe I’m just fucked up on cough syrup and siamese vodka.
Figuring out the author of a text is not the same as recognizing something as a text. Once you talk about an author of a text, you are talking about intent, even if the intent was not to create the text you think you see. The sandpiper might inadvertently create a text that humans can “understand” as words while intending to search for food, but that bird was still an author. There was intent, just (likely) not an intent to create human-readable words.
More tequila may be called for. Or, at least, beer. If I figure it out I’ll let you know.
I’m filled with a sudden sense of mimsy.
Ah HA! So you do acknowledge my awesome power to interpret the will of the spirit kingdom as it’s spoken by the Sacred Sandpipers. Bow and scrape, and maybe shuffle too, as long that’s not racist or anything.
(Only an author supplies intent. So who is the author of the Holy Gospel according to the Sacred Sandpipers of Lake Wishiwashimeanuntome? The Sacred Sandpipers, or the humble
interpreterdiviner of the Sacred Sandpiper tracks?)You know there ain’t no Devil it’s just GAIA when she’s drunk?
(apologies to Tom Waits)
You don’t look Borogovidian.
The plastic surgeon’s vorpal blade went snicker-snack, Geoff.
Thought my classic Borogovidian features might be considered “too ethnic” to pursue my dreams in the entertainment world. Also changed my given name from Tumtum Uffish to Tom Fischer.
Beware the rath of mome.
Ain’t that the truth.
mmmmmMMOOOOOOOOOWWWWMMM!!!!!!!
As long as it’s not a drunken Gaea, she’s hell in a wheel.
After reading that plot summary, I’m relieved to say the part of my youth I misspent reading heroic fantasy fiction wasn’t as misspent as it could have been.
It’s a dog named Nigger, isn’t it?
This is definitely where I’d sockpuppet as an old black dude and give that punk kid a piece of my mind.
Well mine was and is and the third part of the trilogy is one I like to re-read every year or two. Then again around these parts I’m the guy with bad taste and no class.
OT: Stool lift with 12.5# on top. I’ve done it before, but this was after a week of really beating my hands up. Saturday or Sunday is when I’ll really know how much rest I need. Last week I increased HUGE on both my one hand pinch and my hub pinch. I have but 30 lbs more to gain on the one hand pinch to equal Elizabeth Horne. Her husband David did a two handed pinch of 257 lbs or thereabouts. (Yeah, I know. Puts it all into perspective, doesn’t it?)
If I make decent gains this week I’ll know my hands can handle almost daily heavy training. If not, I’ll ease back a bit.
Incidentally, another exercise I’ve been doing that I think really works magic is power isometrics and G-force stuff. Power isos are essentially pushing and pulling as hard as you can into or out from an immovable object (in my case, I use an iron support pole in my basement). G-force is hitting or pressing into that immovable object (with your shoulder, back, or legs) at about 50% force for high reps. Think sumo wrestlers slamming their legs into the ground. Elbow bent, hit the beam with your palm in front 50 times per hand, 5 sets. Same thing with palm on the side of the beam (you can use a tree for this as well). Etc.
What this does is really take the fat right out of the muscle and make the muscles really dense. Unseen strength, but it’s there, trust me. Good stuff.
I think I prefer concealed carry to unseen strength, but I’m probably just lazy.
You took the words right out of my mouth, Ernst. The only kind of big I’ve ever been I just ditched about 25# of, to get to 160-something. And I will shoot you. If we ever get into hand to hand combat, I’ll be the guy attacking your knees. It’s just how I roll.
Oh, shit.
Really, really.
SHAKE WEIGHT!
I’d note that she’s kind of cute, but I’d hate to have her track me down and turn me into a pretzel.
I work on grip strength because of my CCW.
Just sayin’.
Yep.