Bullshit

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Bullshit: (n) stupid or untrue talk

Not everything is bullshit.

Matter of fact, one great step toward maturity is realizing that many of the things we believe today will change in the future, and maybe even disappear.

After all, ignorance is not the absence of knowledge, but rather, the refusal to accept it.

All of us are ignorant in the sense that there are things we don’t know, but we will not be deemed ignorant in the future if we’re willing to step away from piles of bullshit and find the truth that has been proven.

Whether it’s our politics, our education, our profession or our faith, each one should be able to endure the evolution of new data, which further clarifies life on Planet Earth.

If your beliefs or your convictions need to ridicule an educated revelation, you are no longer a follower of truth, but a shoveler of bullshit.

Each one of us needs to acknowledge this, or we become either dangerous or obnoxious, or an annoying blending of the pair.

Many good folk in 1491, who were well-schooled and religious, were convinced that the world was flat. Several years later, when it was proven to be round, the truly intelligent rolled with the punches and realized that science was not destroyed by the revelation, nor was God shrunk.

The ones who continued to contend that the Earth was shaped like a cracker had to promote their bullshit ad nauseam.

How can you tell if you’ve become a bullshitter?

There is a tiny little bell that rings in the human soul when we hear something that resounds with the truth.

Stop muffling the bell.

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Bulletin Board

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Bulletin board: (n) a board for displaying notices.

I’m a little timid to make this confession–partly because it expresses a weakness that I’m not sure other people share, and also there’s always a danger that when you’re vulnerable, someone will come along and feel it’s their responsibility to “teach you something.”

But taking that risk, I will tell you that bulletin boards scare me.

Not in the sense of being terrified, but rather, a bewildering, perplexing aggravation that comes over my soul whenever I stand, facing one, and see literally hundreds of messages piled on top of each other, vying for my attention. They begin to swirl together, forming some sort of mysterious stew in mid-stir.

I try to focus on one bicycle for sale, or announcement for an upcoming meeting of the Progressive Optimists of America, but my eyes are distracted and suddenly, my mind begins to believe that all optimistic people own bicycles–and have lost a daughter. And a dog. And a red umbrella.

Immediately aware that none of it makes sense, I’m bewitched by the messaging that keeps leaping from this bulletin board into my eyes to gain attention.

Does someone in a little country church really think I am going to come to their revival just because a tiny portion of their flier peeps through underneath the announcement of a new yoga class?

I’m sorry. Bulletin boards are spawned from some dark consciousness, where obsession and oblivion merge together in printed form to attack me and make me believe that I’m stupid because I’m not voting for the candidate whose poster has been most recently pinned over the top of all other competitors.

Bulletin boards are the most inefficient way to convey any message.

I’m wondering if someone in Congress came up with the idea.

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Bulletin

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Bulletin: (n) a regular newsletter or printed report issued by an organization

After twenty years of doing some of my sharing and proclaiming in the church, I will tell you that the bulletin that many of them print each week as an order of service speaks volumes about the congregation.

It basically falls into three categories:

  1. A very short document which minimally lists the elements of the day’s worship experience, communicating great reverence and solemnity.
  2. A tri-fold piece of paper stuffed with all sorts of envelopes and notices, which is like a hand-held Facebook account. It is encompassed with announcements, pictures, and hopes and dreams for the future.
  3. A well-crafted piece of art put together by a staff member who is meticulous, perhaps to a fault, and contends that one of the better ways to communicate the quality of the church is in the distinction of the graphics.

The fascinating part of this is the life expectancy of a church bulletin–which is no more than four days, and except for two hours, languishes in a pile, waiting to be appreciated.

A case could be made that nobody really reads anymore, but that does not mean we should give up on good things with good intentions, which might prove, over time, to once again become the new rage.

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Bullet

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Bullet: (n) a projectile for firing from a gun

I was thirteen years old and my dad placed a rifle in my hands.

He explained that it was a small gun. I think it was a .22. He had promised to take me out on one of his rabbit-hunting trips.

I was thrilled.

I was especially pumped up when I was allowed to go out for target practice, to shoot some cans–or at least, attempt to do so.

He loaded the rifle, told me how to hold it and laughed a little bit when I was surprised with the kick-back.

When the day of the hunting trip arrived, my dad asked me to load my own rifle. I had watched him do it. But now it was in my hand.

For about a minute, I did nothing but finger the bullet, roll it around in my hand and stare at it. It was not huge, but it was very hard and scary. I put it into the chamber, heard the click, loaded another one and another one.

All at once I realized that these pieces of metal were going to be fired at an extraordinary rate of speed, toward a living creature. It wasn’t that I was against the idea of hunting rabbits or eating them.

Suddenly it was just about the bullet.

So when we arrived in the field and scared up a few rabbits, my older brother shot one. There was a big cheer. We all ran over to the location and I looked down at the ball of fur laying in the grass. It didn’t look real. Certainly did not look alive.

My dad showed me what a good marksman my older brother was because he had struck the rabbit in the head.

I gazed at the wound. Dark red–sticky, with blackened fringes where the impact had exploded the bunny brain.

I was taken aback.

  • It didn’t make me anti-gun.
  • It didn’t make me anti-hunting.
  • It didn’t make me against “the right to bear arms.”

It just made me damn aware of what a bullet can do to anything living.

 

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Bulldoze

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Bulldoze: (v) to use insensitive force when dealing with someone or something.

People will not be convinced.

All the attempts to debate, argue, fuss, preach, evangelize and bulldoze human beings are wasted effort.

Knowledge does not impress us.

We pretend it does. We pass on the impression of being impacted by information. Nothing could be further from the truth.

Once you realize that any effort you put into changing another human being through speech, force, intimidation or even alienation will only deepen their convictions and cement their will, you can cease your campaign.

Humans change when they’re convicted–in other words, when the evidence stacks up against them and they are sentenced by a court of public opinion, looking for a pardon.

  • It is an act of their will.
  • It is often a manifestation of frustration.
  • It is a jealousy over seeing others happy.

It is why it’s better to let your light shine instead of trying to buy the whole world flashlights.

 

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Bulldog

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Bulldog: (n) a dog of a sturdy smooth-haired breed with a large head and powerful protruding lower jaw

It was a bulldog named Polka.

One of my sons and his family purchased this old, brutish mutt, compelled by an inner need to display a dog which is obviouslDictionary By suffering from image issues and a variety of afflictions. She snorted, she slobbered and she found it very difficult to get around, spending a lot of her time panting.

So obviously, I felt an immediate affinity to her.

She apparently liked me, too–because every time I arrived at the house, she perched herself at the front door and wiggled her butt the best she could, while simultaneously peeing on the floor.

I can’t say it was the best greeting I ever had, but certainly the most sincere.

Bulldogs are known for having a difficult time acquiring air through their distorted snouts. So one day, in the midst of an extraordinarily hot, Florida afternoon, Polka exerted herself so much that she came home and died.

Even though, as time has passed, another bulldog named Oscar has been purchased to replace our long-lost friend, I will never forget her.

For I have never found anyone else to urinate in reverence to me.

 

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Bulky

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Bulky: (adj) taking up much space

Very simply explained, if I can’t lift it or move it, then it’s bulky. Because I work under the premise that if I can getDictionary B my arms around it or my hands beneath it, there is nothing I can’t lift.

As I’ve gotten older, I have tried to overcome that little piece of macho, but somehow or another, I still feel it is my duty, as a male Homo sapien, to impress all the people around me–especially the females–with my physical prowess.

And by the way, that goes for opening jars, too. Fortunately, that particular duty is pretty simple. But every once in a while, you get one which has apparently been glued on. Then I get very nervous. I don’t want some other male god-figure to sweep in, pick up the jar and open it after I have failed to do so.

Then I would feel I should be taken to the Yukon North, placed on an iceberg and pushed out to sea to await my inevitable death.

Yes, it doesn’t matter how much sophistication we possess–sometimes, if we’re men, we hope something ends up being bulky so we can impress by moving it.

And I guess women occasionally pretend something is bulky–so men will have a reason to brag.

 

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Bulimia

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Bulimia: (n) an eating disorder

Bulimia just makes me sick to my stomach.

I’m sorry. I know it’s not funny. It’s a serious eating disorder.

But sometimes I wish they would take these serious things and not tempt meDictionary B with humorous images.

Are there positive things about bulimia?

  • You can find a second use for your toothbrush. (I know–once again inappropriate.)
  • It conjures a new definition for take-out food.
  • But mostly, it is a by-product of an obsession we have with being slim.

No one is going to tell you the truth about body weight. Why? Because in doing so, billions of dollars could be lost in commerce for remedies.

How much of your body weight and my body weight is conditioned, pre-determined and affected by genetics?

I saw a lady the other day in the store who was so thin that I was not sure there was a leg inside her skin-tight jeans. But then I saw her glance over at me, with my abundance of human flesh, and produce a sneer.

What have we done to ourselves?

Certainly obesity causes a myriad of health situations. But anorexia, bulimia and trying to live on less nutrition than necessary to sustain our vital organs is equally as dangerous.

I have found that solutions are achieved in a three-step process:

  1. Find the real truth
  2. Stop fighting the real truth
  3. Develop a plan based on the real truth

Until we do this on the subject of weight loss, we will have people literally tearing their insides out to be thin.

 

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Bulge

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Bulge: (n) a rounded swelling or protuberance that distorts a flat surface.

She smiled at the camera and said, “It is very important that you are proud of your body.”

I waited. I paused to see if she would laugh–because I immediately giggled.

I’ve been working for years on trying not to be ashamed of my body, and to avoid the temptation to do so, I do not like to look at myself Dictionary Bin the mirror.

Now, this may cause some thin people who make their living in physical fitness to weep, but I happen to believe that no good has ever come out of anyone standing in front of a mirror with their naked body, admiring.

There’s something beautiful about being aware of your status, lackings and bulges. Matter of fact, I have only one major goal and it’s really quite simple:

I try to diet and maintain my weight so that my bulge does not open a secondary office on top of its friend–because “bulging on bulge” is a real danger. Anyone who’s ever had a bulge will understand what I’m talking about and anyone who’s never had a bulge should probably eat tarantula turds and die.

Well, maybe not die … just spend more time smiling at themselves in the mirror.

And please leave me the hell alone.

 

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Build-Up

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Build-up: (n) a gradual accumulation or increase

When the project fails, in retrospect, we call it “hype.”

When we’re trying to promote the project we refer to it as “build-up.”Dictionary B

How much advertising is really necessary to propel a good idea?

How much money do we need to spend to advertise quality?

How much recognition is achieved by shouting things from the housetops?

It is the nature of the human race to be picky and to appear disappointed.

So if you advertise the “best tacos in San Antone, Texas,” very few people will agree and admit, “That was the best taco I ever ate.”

Instead, you will be inundated with descriptions of other tacos they’ve enjoyed, or worse, suggestions on how you could make your taco better, so your advertising would coincide with the product.

For instance, I think we would have a more successful democracy in America if we had less build-up.

  • Why do we have to be the “greatest nation on Earth?”
  • Why do we have to be superior in every way?
  • Why do our missiles have to be more powerful?
  • Why do we think our athletes are more attractive or healthier?
  • Why do we think our women are fairer than those in the Middle East?

What have we really achieved as a nation, a people or even as individuals, through build-up?

Because just as soon as you try to convince someone that you’ve found the best … they will start looking for better.

 

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