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Humor

The Further Adventures of Herbert the Celestial Assistant: Death Is a Card

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     Herbert was flying solo today. St. Peter was convinced that Herbert could handle
the gates while he was away so he left for vacation while the getting was good.

With the exception of a guy who died while eating kielbasa, the job had been pretty standard so far. Herbert was perplexed as to how the man could actually bring his sausage with him. He was going to have to ask St. Peter about that when he returned.

Fortunately he was able to convince the man he did not need food in heaven. The waste management issue would be a nightmare.

He promised him they could give a coat of lacquer to what was left of his kielbasa so he could have fond memories of that special day…that he died.

     At the moment there was no action at the gates so he got back to the crossword puzzle that had been taunting him ever since he picked it up off the greeting lectern. St Peter had said it was left on the shuttle by someone newly departed. He regretted he had not bothered to ask how someone could take anything with them. It would have solved the whole kielbasa mystery.

Herbert was stuck on the same clue that had stumped the previous owner.

Across

13.      A four letter verb meaning to harvest, garner, gather or bring in.

He knew the answer lay somewhere in the recesses of his mind. He just needed to ruminate and let it come to him.

     Ahem. Excuse me.

“Hmm , that was strange,” thought Herbert. He could have sworn that italic words had just flashed across his vision. He looked up and saw a familiar figure standing in front of him. He looked like death with a capitol D. Death. The grim reaper. Um, sorry I did not hear you coming.”

     Oh, they never do.

“That’s funny. There go those strange italic words dancing across my eyes again. Wait, was that you?”

     Unless you truly experienced the 60’s that was probably me.

“Wow, that’s pretty cool. Um, you’re not here for me are you.”

     I get that a lot.

“What, the cool bit or the “your not here for me” part?”

     Yes

“Oh, ok. So what brings you here? Is this a customer service followup to see how your victims, um, customers have been treated at this end?”

     No, I am here for me.

“I don’t understand. Are you dead? Are you saying that Death has met its maker, or that Death is here for the final round up or in modern terms his warranty has expired and did not see the cost effectiveness of spending money to extend it?”

     Well, yes but I am not sure that last analogy works. It’s a bit wordy.

“Yea, I just came up with it so it’s bound to have a few kinks. I didn’t know that Death itself/(himself/herself ?) had a limited run. I thought your stage lights were never dark so to speak.”

     That analogy is not bad. Yes, well this is new to me also. I was looking for the nearest Starbucks and got lost. The next thing you know I’m here.

“You got lost looking for the nearest Starbucks? Come on no matter where you are there is Starbucks just around the corner.”

Not in Topeka Kansas.

“Oh. You have me there. This is awkward. Who replaces you?
Where do you go? Which shuttle do I call? You’re not even on my list. I have no idea how to handle this.”

     You mean St Peter left you in charge during his vacation and you can’t even handle this?

“To be fair this is an anomaly and … wait I didn’t mention he was on vacation. Are you winding me up?”

     I must confess I was have a bit of a laugh at your expense.

“What? You mean you don’t have anything better to do? Are you telling me that the Grim Reaper, Death, God’s Cleaner has nothing better to do than have a few grins at the expense of some heavenly flunky?”

     Ooh. I like that God’s Cleaner thing. Can I use it?

“What, oh, yea knock yourself out but lets not get off the subject. You must have better things to do while waiting for your next, um, service call.”

     No. This is it. I am trying to inject some humor into my life. Do you know what its
like to constantly be greeted by the words “Oh No Not You”.

“Well, there was this one girl…”

     That’s not the same.

“Ok, I’ll give you that. That is all they ever say?”

No. Every once in a while you get a blood curdling scream and let me tell you that’s not any better. I’m beginning to get a complex.

“What about comedians? They must be a little more original. Do they give you anything different?”

     For the most part, no. Certainly nothing to laugh at. They usually think going out on a high note is stating “this is the worst I’ve ever bombed,” but I see that coming a mile away.

“Yea, I can see that. So what’s next for you?”

     Oh, I go on doing what I do and wait for the next time St. Peter takes a vacation.

“You need some more material. Hang in there and try to keep your, uh, sickle up.”

     Ha. Now that made me smile. Thank you.

“No problem. My sense of humor grows on people.”

    Yes, kind of like mold. Well, I must be going. Good Bye.

“Good bye. Take care.”

“Hmm, let’s see, where was I? Oh yeah a four letter word for harvest or gather? Oh, “reap”. That works. Go figure.”

Humor

One Ham Salad Sandwich Coming Up (The Perfect Conspiracy Theory Cont.)

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   The late afternoon broke through the windows of the bar and fell across the face of the nondescript barmen as he sipped a whiskey. A short while earlier his stomach had spoken to him. It had made two distinct statements. It had said it was extremely hungry and that the cook here sucked.

He was now waiting for the delivery of a turkey sandwich. He hardly had time to evaluate the Scotch he was drinking before a man bearing a brown paper bag entered and announced the delivery of his sandwich.

The barman bit into the sandwich and had observed an interesting phenomenon.
The turkey sandwich he ordered had transmogrified into a ham salad sandwich topped with cellulose condiment.

Picking the note out his mouth he read “Why are you looking here the good stuff is in front of you.” Furrowing his brow he looked up into the face of the bearded man with the cool ring “Come join us,” he said.

The barman started to introduce himself but Panama cut him off.

“We don’t need to know your name and you don’t need to know ours. This gentleman here you can refer to as ‘The Bearded One’ and you can call me Panama. We’ll call you ‘The Barman’.”

“Well, that’s not really original now is it,” said The Barman.

“There are no points for originality in this endeavor,” interjected The Beard.

“And what endeavor would this be asked The Barman?”

“How much do you know about the penny, “ asked Panama.

“Well it costs more to make than it’s worth but for some reason it’s still being produced,” replied The Barman.

“Yea, well we’re the reason why they keep producing it,” added The Beard.

“Who’s we,” asked The Barman.

“We are a group of concerned citizens making sure the penny gets its due,” answered Panama. “A Penny Cabal if you will.”

“I appreciate your concern and excuse me if I sound a bit jaded but beings as this is D.C., what’s in it for you?”

“Well lets just say that we represent a few groups that would stand to lose a good chunk of change if production of the penny were to cease.”

“Like who,” asked The Barman.

“Well,” answered Panama,” the Convenience Store Owners of America for one. You think that ‘take a penny leave a penny’ garbage is done out of the goodness of their hearts? Sure it sounds nice but In the long term it generates some dough. Many folks do not value the penny and those are the kind of folks that don’t take a penny but leave many pennies.”

The Bearded One added “Yea and ‘take a nickel leave a nickel’ does not have the same ring. It will be awhile before the nickel achieves the same pocket clutter status as the penny. You take a survey of the average guys dresser top in this country and you’ll find that the ratio of pennies to nickels falls heavily in favor of the penny.”

“Yea, sounds like mine,” said the Barman. “But what about women?”

“They carry purses,” replied both conspirators in unison.

“Then there is the whole tradition of the penny and the man that is immortalized on it,” said Mr. Panama, his void rising and in danger of causing a scene.

“Lincoln should be a frickin saint not a vampire hunter.”

“Ok you’ve convinced me,” said The Barman. “You had me at vampire hunter. So where do I fit in?”

“You my friend are our eyes and ears on capitol hill,” answered Mr. Panama.

“You get a lot of representatives, aides and cocktail waitresses in here. They all drink and they all talk. Anything you hear that even remotely concerns the penny, you let us know,” added The Beard.

“Can-do. I do have one more question.” asked the Barman.

“Shoot,” replied The Bearded One.

“When do I get one of those cool rings?”

“In five days you will receive a ham salad sandwich on rye. You will pay with cash and on the merchants copy of the receipt you will write in your ring size in lieu of the tip amount,” replied The Beard.

“Ten days after that you will get a ham salad sandwich on pumpernickel. It will contain the ring. Do not eat the sandwich before you check for the ring.”

“Cool. What’s with the ham salad?”

“We have fans involved with hog futures. A lot of hog futures,” answered Panama.

 “ I’ll be looking for that ham salad on rye,” was all The Barman could respond with before returning to work.

The Beard waited until The Barman was out of earshot and said, “I like that vampire hunter bit. That added to the subterfuge nicely. He won’t be able to keep that to himself.”
“Thanks, I like to keep it fresh,” said Panama. He laughed and uttered “A Penny Cabal. I gotta keep that part.”

Humor, Uncategorized

Fostering Paranoia (Brewing The Perfect Conspiracy cont..)

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The good stuff. Lies and trails to nowhere. Disinformation, subterfuge and disingenuous relationships. The good stuff. The fun stuff.

Any good conspiracy or at least one worth a book or hollywood movie contains the good stuff.
The good stuff organizes the people that have taken notice of strange goings on and points them in several directions at once.

Its the original ‘hey look over there’ gag with the part of your uncle played by a group whose goal is something a little more nefarious than stealing your french fries.

A good campaign of disinformation can foment paranoia among those that think they are on to something. When this happens, the odds that the conspiracy will be successful goes up tremendously.

Those that are suspicious will start to see conspiracy in every nook, cranny and shadow around them.

Once the phrase “but that’s what they want you to
think” is uttered, their credibility, if they had any, is totally blown.

If they are lucky they can get a book deal, if not they may find themselves spending hours in therapy with an occasional trip to the pharmacist forsome ‘calming’ medication.

Capitol Hill bathed in the shadows of the afternoon sun. It was late
August and the Hill was doing something it did well, making people sweat and spreading corruption. Quite often the two are related.

A ceiling fan lorded over the patrons in a nondescript bar a few blocks from Capitol Hill. It rotated at a teasing rate that said,

“Yea, maybe I can turn
faster. Wouldn’t you like to find out.”

Beneath the fan sat two gentlemen each nursing a beer. Both were
wearing the same gold and black signet ring. Both had the same build and were around the same age. But for the beard of one and the Panama hat of the other they would be hard to tell apart.

“So what’s on the agenda today. I hope its the good stuff. I have been
waiting quite a while for the good stuff,” said Panama.

The Beard opened a manilla envelope and pulled out one sheet of 4×5 notepad paper. “It says here that we are getting some attention and need to start our previously discussed campaign of disinformation and paranoia.”

“Alright. The good stuff,” exclaimed Panama.

Fun with the good stuff.

Humor

The Orchestrated Effort (Brewing The Perfect Conspiracy cont..)

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At a nondescript bar two blocks from capitol hill, the nondescript bartender stood behind the bar pondering the world and everything.

He was beside himself, not literally of course, he hadn’t done that since the mid seventies.

He had just served a beer to a man with the same funky ring as the companion whose table he joined.

The second key concept of a good conspiracy is the “orchestrated effort”. It is the concept that manages the whole conspiracy. Without an orchestrated effort there would be just be a bunch of people meandering aimlessly and not having much of an impact on anything.

Kind of like the Chicago Cubs. It’s ok I can say that, I’m a lifelong Cubs fan.

You may ask yourself, if the organizations are not known to each other than how can the effort be orchestrated?

This is where the ringmaster comes into play. The ringmaster is the one person who has set the whole thing in motion and knows all of the players. He or she is the one person that sets up the meetings between the parties involved and the only person that knows the conspiracy statement or the ultimate goal of the conspiracy.

Through the use of the ringmaster the hidden agenda remains hidden from the rest of the participants. The ringmaster allows the participants plausible deniability. Since they have no idea of the ultimate goal they can’t really spill the beans if called before Congress,the Senate or the NBI*.

The ringmaster is the caterer of the  whole party. He provides fuel to the conspiracy right down to and including the cellulose condiments.

* The National Banking Institute or the National Baking Institute. I’m not sure there is much of a difference.

Next: “Fostering Paranoia“

Humor

The Ingredients to a Good Conspiracy (Brewing The Perfect Conspiracy Theory continued…)

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Two blocks from Capitol Hill a man , rather nondescript of course, takes refuge from the afternoon sun in a doorway across the street from a neighborhood bar. He has an appointment in said bar but is experiencing some trepidation about the meeting.

He was told to come here by a ham salad sandwich. Well, a note in the sandwich told him to come here. Sandwiches quit talking to him in the mid seventies.

The man, deciding there is no time like the present, crosses the street and enters the bar. He is met by a web of scattered sun rays forcing him to pause and surmise the patrons looking for one wearing the ring.

One of the key elements of the conspiracy presented in the first installment of this series is the conspiracy statement. The statement I crafted was the following;

“We pledge to make sure the penny is coined as a part of the US monetary system no matter how cost ineffective it is. We plan on realizing this by holding true to our exaggerated self importance and by fostering paranoia through an orchestrated effort to disseminate false information, half truths and downright illogical conclusions. We will do this through a cabal made up of three organizations with a hidden agenda and whose members are not known to each other.”

Take note of the following words used in the conspiracy statement;”cabal“, “orchestrated effort” and “three secret organizations.”

The word cabal works well for conspiracy theories on an international level. Since an international conspiracy to keep the penny in circulation seems unlikely even for a conspiracy theory we might want to substitute the words “trilateral commission”.

If we throw in the UN as one of those three organizations than we can keep the cabal. The UN is a very popular element in many conspiracy theories. I bet ole Woodrow Wilson would have a hard time wrapping his head around that one.

Note the appearance of the number 3. Numbers are an important part of the conspiracy theory and you want to choose a number that would be hard pressed to prove.

Who bothers to challenge a claim of “third best _____ ____ in the world.”

Odd numbers greater than one are perfect. It is takes less work to discount a theory involving one or two organizations than it is three or more The beauty of a finely crafted conspiracy theory is that the harder it is to prove the harder it is to disprove.

A conspiracy theory becomes more plausible if the number or numbers in use are prime. Prime numbers put up an additional road block to investigation. Prime numbers are somewhat mystical, people hear them and think “wow that conspiracy has some deep , mysterious, roots.”

A good conspiracy courts mystery at every turn and prime numbers are a good ingredient for that. It doesn’t hurt that people are lazy, a conspiracy theorists counts on that.

Up next the “orchestrated effort”.

Humor

Brewing The Perfect Conspiracy Theory

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Two blocks from capital hill at the end of an unassuming street sat a neighborhood bar. In a sparsely lit corner of the bar a small table is occupied by a rather nondescript gentleman. A narrow shaft of light cuts across his chin, arcs across the table and exposes a weathered hand that has raised quite a few toasts over the years. A sparkle of light flashes from his ring finger as he raises a cold glass of freshly poured ale.

Behind the bar a young man is prepping garnishes for the happy hour rush. A twinkle in the corner of the bar catches his eye. He remembers the ring the man wore and figured that as the source of the flash. Nothing about the man was remarkable but the ring and its strange carousel symbol was interesting enough to lodge in his memory.

The man had mentioned that he was meeting up with someone and they should be here shortly. The young man wondered if his confidant would also be wearing a strange ring.

That would be cool, he thought. Maybe some kind of conspiracy is afoot

Continue reading Brewing The Perfect Conspiracy Theory →

Humor

The Most Unusual Man in The World (Mindless Entertainment)

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His brain has two distinctive flavors, the logical and the artistic.
He makes a living with the logical bank and lets the artistic bank out to play to stave off insanity. His friends would council that perhaps he had failed at the “staving off” part.

Life as a road warrior forced his creative bank to find amusements on the run so he invented a game he liked to call ‘guess what they do for a living.’ The goal of the game was self explanatory and the entertainment factor was high, especially in airports such as LAX, although celebrity sightings would spoil the game. The game worked best when he was traveling with a colleague. Forget asking strangers, they often panicked and carry-ons caused damage if they connected. If alone, he would get one of his other personalities to cooperate and sometimes they did not work well and play with others. When this happened his mind would create new forms of entertainment and sometimes it fell on a familiar theme, music.

Music is one of the passions that fuels his heartbeat. Following up random thoughts with “That would make a good band name”, can provide him with a few grins for a while. Sometimes creating a good band name is like a Seinfeld Episode.
“What did you have for breakfast?”
“Lightly buttered toast.” That’s a band name.
“What was your commute like?”
“Hell with a side of cream cheese.” That’s a band name.

Names in general provide him with a great source of entertainment. Sitting down with a sports magazine annual college basketball edition and compiling a list of the best names in division 1 basketball can fill his mind with enough minutia to keep him occupied for an entire weekend. He actually could make up a name like Scientific Mapp. He is the most unusual man in the world.

Humor

Dogs and Cats Living Together (Downtime for St. Peter Part 2)

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The hours had passed slowly at the Pearly Gates as Herbert tried to absorb as much information as possible from St. Peter before he took his vacation leave.

“Is it always this slow,” asked Herbert.

“It comes an goes. Sometimes the list is short and other times the list contains a gaggle of souls.”

“Kind of like a rush to judgement.”

“Cute. Keep your day job”

“I’m an acquired taste.”

“Yea, so is Sushi”.

Just then a shuttle arrived with a lone passenger.

Peter checked the list and prepared to greet a Mr. Acme. Hmm, that’s an unusual name. “Welcome Mr. Acme.”

“Mr?” queried the man.

“Having no surname what do you prefer,” asked Peter.

“I have always gone by The Acme Company,” replied Mr. Acme.

“The Acme Company. That seems a bit unusual. Are you an artist or a musician,” asked Peter.

“No. I can’t say that I am. What else would you call a global
conglomerate that provides a full spectrum of products ranging from Shampoo to Talcum Powder.”

“Top to Bottom,” injected Herbert. Peter gave him a look that said silence would have been a better option.

“Oh Oh. I knew this day would come,” said Peter.

“What day is that,” asked Herbert.

“The day that would bring a corporeal crisis of existential proportions.”

“What, dogs and cats living together?” asked Herbert.

“Nice movie reference. I’ll give you that one,” replied a slightly grinning Peter.

“See, I’m growing on you. What did you mean “you knew this day would come”,” asked Herbert.

“I have been waiting for this day ever since the citizens united decision,” groaned Peter.

“I still don’t get what’s going on,” replied Herbert.

“What we have here is a corporation that thinks it is a person,” answered Peter.

“Oh Oh,” uttered Herbert.

“But I am a person. The Supreme Court Says so,” replied Mr. Acme.

“Sorry Acme, the Supreme Court has no jurisdiction here and making big campaign contributions does not give you a soul,” explained Peter.

“Oh, so where should I go?” asked Mr Acme.

I am thinking bankruptcy court,” replied Peter writing something on an official looking card. “There seems to have been a major corporeal catastrophe. This requires a higher power. Give this to the shuttle driver and he’ll take you to the proper station.”

“What shuttle driver,” asked Acme as a shuttle arrived.

“You have a very short sighted approach to existence. Now that you have plenty of time on your hands you need to be more patient. Good luck.”

“Ok, Thanks for the advice,” replied Mr. Acme as the shuttle whisked him away.

“Wow. Was that the strangest arrival you have had here,” asked Herbert.

“There was one that came close.”

“Yeah. How so?”

“Some guy who showed up with a ‘nutter-butter sandwich.”

“That doesn’t sound weird.”

“He was half naked and called himself the king.”

“Yea, that qualifies.”

Humor, personal growth, Uncategorized

Finding Eternal Calm in a Chaotic World (Dante-ism)

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Meditation.
-the action or practice of meditating: a life of meditation.
• a written or spoken discourse expressing considered thoughts on a subject: his later letters are intense meditations on man’s exploitation of his fellows.
ORIGIN Middle English: from Old French, from Latin meditatio(n-), from meditari (see meditate) .

We can practice meditation at any time and in many forms in our lives. Some of us practice it without realizing it.

I myself have been a longtime practitioner of something I like to call Dante-ism. It is an exercise in relaxation. The goal is to imagine a new level of hell for someone and through that visualization melt away the feelings of stress that you are currently experiencing. Dante probably imagined quite a few more levels than nine. I am sure he had to cut it short due to deadlines. I myself have blown way past double digit figures.

I find Dante-ism particularly effective while driving. Case in point. I find myself at a four-way stop sign waiting for a couple to exit the crosswalk when another car jumps their turn. I calmly let the tension go as I design a new level of hell for the driver; a time slightly less than eternity spent waiting for pedestrians at a crosswalk while an infinite stream of cars jump the gun. Not quite satisfied, an additional inspiration adds the coup de gras. The car stereo of the perpetrator will now be playing that one Rick Astley song (“ never gonna give you up …”*) in a loop. There are two dangers for you the designer when crafting these scenarios. The first is that you may visualize the imagery for too long forcing the drivers behind you to taylor a level of hell specifically for you. The second danger is that you run the risk of being stuck with that blasted song in your head the rest of the day.

I find Dante-ism to be especially calming in cases where a narrow escape from death has just occurred and the culprit is the carelessness of others. This experience is more common for those who commute to work but may also occur for those who actively participate in life as the role of an innocent pedestrian. The cases in this category that I am familiar with are usually attributed to someone not paying attention. The pedestrian scenario can provide more of a challenge when crafting a new level of hell if the perpetrator is sans automobile. In this case there is no vehicle with with which to imprison the guilty for all eternity and more imagination is required to craft the ultimate floor in your ever increasing high rise of hell.**

One may find that writers block is getting in the way crafting a sufficiently annoying level of hell. In such cases the afore mentioned cross walk scenario works well in a pinch. The idea of the guilty forever unable to cross an intersection can be quite calming. Throw in the video for that Rick Astley song in a loop on his smart phone and you have the ingredients for nirvana. Limit this scenario to cases where you have tried mightily but can not quite come up with an adequate scenario to achieve that state of calm that may be desperately required. Instead, use the opportunity to challenge your imagination. Bystanders can often be incorporated into the scene to help trap the perpetrator in time.

Creating the added annoyance factor is where ones imagination can be really be stretched. While I find it hard to fathom that someone would not find Rick Astley annoying, and neigh I say enjoyable, improbable events do occur in life and there is plenty of irritating songs out there to choose from. It is not important as to whether the perpetrator will find it maddening, it’s all about you . Remember meditation is a means to achieve personal growth and is meant to be a rewarding experience.

*I can’t bring myself to continue.
**Good band name by the way. I am thinking something in the Death Metal genre