Damned if I Do, Damned if I Don’t

Damned if I do, damned if I don’t: (n) a situation which one can’t win.

I have become convinced that self-pity is the greatest deterrent to human progress.

If you spend five minutes with any person, he or she will explain both what he or she wanted to accomplish and also why it became impossible.

I suppose this comes about because we think life is a puzzle put together by some Eternal Being and presented to us—and then we patiently but joyfully are to discover how all the portions are meant to fit together.

How could we have free will if we already have a puzzle made for us?

Is the premise that only certain free-will creatures even try to put the puzzle together? Or is it that the puzzle is so difficult that few have the time to pursue it or complete it?

I, on the other hand, happen to believe that life is a shoe box full of rocks, handed to each and every one of us.

The losers in life spend most of their breath-time either lamenting the meaninglessness of the rocks or attempting to put them together in some bizarre configuration.

They are the ones who begin to believe that you’re “damned if you do and damned if you don’t.”

In other words, “Since everything is stacked against me, and my box of rocks doesn’t make any sense, what’s the point in wearing myself out—chasing rainbows with my saddled unicorn?”

Here’s a tip:

The box of rocks is a diversion. It creates equality.

It makes us all the same—none preferred—and offers a common paradox.

For once you look at your box of rocks and surmise that there’s nothing to be done with it, then dump your rocks—but keep your box. Then go out and start gathering what you’re going to need to construct what you really envision.

You might think it’s cruel for the Creator to ask us to use our brains to surmise that the rocks are meaningless. But by no means do we want every fool to figure out the puzzle, lest figuring it out becomes droll.

Crocodile Tears

Crocodile tears: (n) insincere tears

It’s difficult to determine what ends up making something popular.

I guess most folks would think that some action gains notoriety because it’s so successful.

Yet there are many things we do in our society that are not successful at all.

But we insist on continuing them out of tradition, politics or religion.

No, there’s more to it than that.

For something to be truly popular, everyone who participates needs to feel they’re getting something off of it.

Recently it has become prevalent to share your life story in front of a camera on television and to cry.

Everyone is supposed to feel great empathy.

Therefore, you can win over the favor of an entire audience while simultaneously making them feel generous with their concern.

The hitch in this plan is that ultimately, we all favor winners. Otherwise there would be no need for trophies, awards and accolades. So how is it that we are convinced that a close-up on our face with crocodile tears, sharing the tragedy that has happened to us, is supposed to be powerful enough to place us in a preferred position?

We now have singers who don’t sing for the joy of it or write songs because they feel energized or compelled. Rather, they hope that in singing or writing they can gain enough money to move their poor little family out of the trailer, and the youngest daughter, who was born with a third arm, can finally get that operation which is only performed by one doctor, whose clinic is in the Alps.

The ingredients are all there:

  • A sympathetic character
  • Crocodile tears
  • A nearly unbelievable story
  • And a wish that somehow or another, those who are listening will assist by voting this particular singer to the winner’s circle.

It works around this horrible assertion that bad things happen to us:

We are victims.

There were no opportunities to improve our situation to this point.

And there are forces at work to destroy us which we don’t seem able to curtail.

Now, if this is the case—in other words, if there’s truth to the fact that any one of us can be impaled by a mysterious destiny that’s targeting us—then I have to admit, the human life journey seems fruitless.

If I have no say, I’d rather not speak.

 

funny wisdom on words that begin with a C

 


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Crime Against Humanity

funny wisdom on words that begin with a C

Crime against humanity: (n) a crime, such as genocide, directed against a large group

I am going to suggest six crimes against humanity which possibly should be considered as legitimate statutes. I am not suggesting there be prison sentences for them—but perhaps reminders to one another on how these six things perpetuate great pain on the human race.

  1. Every human being is better than an animal. To suggest, even jokingly, that somehow the animal kingdom has equivalency, is a crime. (We are worth many sparrows.)
  1. Insisting that every human has a destiny which they should try to locate, is cruel, when we all know that free will is the law of the Universe, and we make our own future.
  2. Flattering people because you don’t know what else to say is a crime against humanity because eventually the factual representation of their abilities will play out.
  3. Any assumption that gender, color, culture, religion, sexual orientation or political affiliation has anything to do with the virtue of a person is the definition of bigotry. This would be a crime.
  4. Anything that we cannot say to someone’s face should never be said behind their back.
  5. And finally, being sure of yourself is the surest way to make sure that no one else can be sure about you.

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Corsair

Corsair: (n) a pirate, especially formerly of the Barbary Coast

When they attack our ships, they’re pirates. When we hire them to attack the ships of our enemy, they’re buccaneers, or corsairs.

I just had to giggle when I saw this today.funny wisdom on words that begin with a C

There were so many pirates who aided the early American league of states in the pursuit of freedom, that I am not sure we would have been nearly so successful without them.

The pirates were a rowdy, bawdy group, willing to fight anyone as long as they could rebel against the establishment and the ships they were targeting had plenty of bounty.

In our American history books are quite a few pirates who sided with us against the British, and therefore, we considered them to be swashbucklers instead of thieves and murderers.

For history is written by those who survive the wars, and the pirates were very happy to help our young country, although I’m sure they had no sense of our destiny, but instead, were curious about what was being hidden on British ships.


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Congestion

Congestion: (adj) a condition of the respiratory tract being blocked with mucus

Trials would never get the chance to be tribulations if we were granted the privilege of planning them instead of being surprised by their arrival.

Honestly, I think I could survive almost anything if I could pencil it in on my calendar in advance, and then build all my activities around funny wisdom on words that begin with a C
preparing for it.

This is the ridiculous part about those who believe in destiny.

Life is clear–it favors chaos. If we actually believe there’s a Divine Order, we logically must conclude that this God-force is schizophrenic.

I had one moment in my life when I wish I had been given the opportunity to select the time slot for my cold.

I would have chosen one week later to be congested–and gladly swallowed the nasty concoctions that are supposed to make me feel better, but actually only cause drowsiness.

My congestion arrived a week early.

My new book had been released, and I was supposed to speak to a large crowd of people, using the event as a launch for my campaign. My bronchitis, croup and laryngitis arrived when I was appearing in a large auditorium, premiering my new album.

I ran what I called the gamut of five:

  • I prayed
  • I sprayed (everything I could think of, to open up my throat)
  • I complained
  • I tried every home remedy known to humans.
  • And finally, I foolishly went to my events–with no voice.

Well, you can imagine, it went just about as well as it sounds like it would go. The congestion was in control.

Should I have just cancelled instead of giving it the “good old college try?”

I don’t know. My experience is that the “good old college try” often leaves you flunking out in disgrace.

 

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Mr. Kringle's Tales...26 Stories 'Til Christmas

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Combine

Combine: (v) to unite; merge.

Earth is not a recipe.

Although we often consider it to be some sort of careful, articulate blending of ingredients, forming a broth or stew, it actually is nothing like that.

I think we’re a little frightened by how chaotic life actually is.

When you have a recipe, you gather your ingredients and you put in just the right amount of each one, to create something tasteful.

That’s not life. All life does is combine.

It doesn’t care if things agree and is indifferent to whether the enjoining of elements will end up being palatable.

It throws everything together, provides resources and stands back to see what will happen.

Those who pursue the comical belief that “everything has a purpose” and “God has a wonderful plan,”should go into the jungle, stand there, and just stare in every direction.

Thousands and thousands of forms of life, not to mention vegetation, combine to form what appears to be a huge single view with no apparent connection. Often the most intimacy in the jungle is burping after eating someone.

Although it frustrates the conservatives with how openly things combine, and it enrages the liberals about the inequity of the plan, favoring the fittest, the Universe doesn’t seem to care.

Matter of fact, on the day you’re born, the cosmos peers at you curiously and says, “So you’re here. Good luck. Please understand, it’s nothing personal. But we must get rid of you.”

 

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Chromosomes

Chromosomes: (n) nucleic acids found in living cells, carrying genetic information in the form of genes.

My brow crinkles and I sprout a sneer every time I see the commercial about the lady who had her DNA tested and discovered she was 26% Native American. With that information she plans to direct her life toward studying the culture of the tribes, the original inhabitants of
North America.

Really??

It seems we just continue to bounce aimlessly back and forth between two walls, like a red rubber ball.

Wall #1: “I am completely at the mercy of my chromosomes and genetic code.”

Wall #2: “I can be anything I want to be and am not trapped by my DNA.”

I suppose the American solution to this quandary is to offer the tepid response, “Well, it’s a little bit of both…”

But it’s not.

Even if we have certain inclinations, mannerisms or quirks that may spring up through our birthing code, they can be addressed and even altered.

It is difficult to be the master of your own fate when you’re still subject to your father’s sperm and your mother’s egg. It is certainly impossible to envision a world where we submit to being human beings instead of cloistered in the definition of our original tissue sample.

There is a phrase written in the Good Book which proclaims that transformation of our spiritual life actually causes us to become “new creatures.”

I don’t know why this wouldn’t be popular.

I don’t know why some woman on television feels she must refer to her child as a “pappoose” now that she realizes that one-quarter of her passed through the teepee.

Something is wrong–and the reason it’s wrong is the manifestation of why everything is wrong.

Whenever you’re trying to play something both ways, just in case one way doesn’t work out, you always end up looking stupid.

Make up your mind.

Are you merely the result of your parents’ sexual encounter and goo, or do you have the power, through freedom of choice, to steer your destiny in the direction of your favorite star?

 

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