Cymbals

Cymbals: (n) concave plates of brass or bronze that produces a sharp, ringing sound when struck by a drumstick

The Book of Psalms refers to “high sounding cymbals.”

It’s part of an impressive list of instruments that were recommended to be used in the process of worshipping God. If this particular Psalm were read aloud in front of the average church-goer, he or she would be greatly discomforted by the description of music that is meant to create as much volume possible, to offer a parallel to the magnitude of the blessings of the Almighty.

It is fascinating how we as a people get stuck in a certain place, a certain time, a certain atmosphere and sometimes even a certain collection of individuals, and lock ourselves there, mentally insisting that nothing can ever surpass that particular organization.

When I first traveled on the road, drums were not permitted in churches.

Matter of fact, the first drum set I ever carried into a church was toted right back out the door by two deacons who were summoned to remove the “demon instruments.”

But deep in my soul, each and every day, there is the reassurance that for every religious objection or social limitation placed on the human race, there is at least one verse of Holy scripture that not only contradicts the delusional commandment, but demands a total freedom of expression.

funny wisdom on words that begin with a C

Cyclothymia

Cyclothymia: (n) bipolar disorder characterized by instability of mood and a tendency to swing between mild euphorias and depressions.

Now you finally have an answer.

Whether you’re asking yourself or fielding an inquiry from someone else concerning why America is so screwed up, you can studiously present the diagnosis:

“It appears the entire nation is cyclothymic.”

We have fallen into a mood where we’re not certain how to feel about anything, so we often find ourselves laughing at absurd intervals and inexplicably weeping over seemingly nothing—so imbalanced that we have forgotten what has value and what is meaningless.

Therefore, many times we find ourselves crying buckets over public service announcements concerning the mistreatment of dogs in kennels, while we can’t come up with the solution for protecting our children from gun violence in school—even when their bodies are stacked next to the monkey bars on the playground.

We become offended by the deaths of unborn children, while we’re seemingly untouched by starving, abused and caged young humans all over the world—even at our own border.

We will mourn over our religion and never shed a tear for the human beings it is poised to serve.

Since we have no control over our emotions and they are liable to sprout at bizarre intervals, we become aggravated with one another for being maudlin or failing to care enough for something that should be deemed tragic.

Even as we lament climate change, we’re angry at humans for the dilemma, never realizing that the reason for preventing planet destruction is to bless and honor our fellow Earthlings.

Insanity is any time we insist that what we hold to be important and essential should be universally accepted as holy.

Some people just don’t bow their heads when they see a cross.

And other folks don’t wince and blink back tears when a dog is scrounging in the wilderness.

It will take a concerted effort for us to once again be able to come up with a clear vision for what is truly significant.

But we might start with: Is it hurting others?

funny wisdom on words that begin with a C

Cup of Tea, One’s

Cup of tea, one’s: (n) Something that is in accord with one’s liking or taste.

If I were flying through space—maybe even at light speed—on a craft from another world, with creatures from another dimension, who for some reason had abducted me to study (for inexplicable reasons) and we were about to land on Earth and my tutor from this alien world, who had gradually won my confidence, turned to me and tenderly said, “Since we only have a minute, tell me the most important thing to know in dealing with Earth and Earthlings,” I’m sure a million things would come to my mind—or maybe just a thousand in lieu of my limited capacity.

Things like:

“Don’t spit on the sidewalk when you’re meeting strangers.”

“Brush your teeth after eating garlic pizza.”

“Don’t stare directly into a woman’s bosom.”

Or:

“Avoid eating off of trucks near parks.”

But after a few seconds, I probably would land on the truth of truths—the statement I would need to tell my little friend (yes, that’s right, he’s only four foot four, but is quite muscular) so that he would be able to function and get by on our little establishment.

Here you go:

DON’T BE PICKY.

You will be tempted. You will want to crinkle your face, show disapproval, and there will be those who will even say, “If you don’t like it, let me know.”

They are lying.

Even though all human beings insist on being picky, we all certainly hate picky people.

It seems to be the standard we set for ourselves and others—allowing for taste and appreciation—but we tend to become snarly when someone opts to pass on something because it’s “not their cup of tea.”

When this happens, we swallow our discontent but walk away thinking:

“Hmmm. Like YOU drink tea.”

funny wisdom on words that begin with a C

Bipolar

Bipolar: (adj) a psychiatric illness characterized by both manic and depressive episodes

Dictionary B

 Brandon was caught between two opinions.

One of his psychiatrists thought he was schizophrenic and the other felt it was more likely that he was bipolar.

But when Brandon was on the rampage, his mind torn apart by his disease, to the average person he was just crazy.

Insightful, but out of his mind.

Matter of fact, the only times Brandon was interesting were those occasions when he was on the verge of flipping out, going through the streets of town performing actions which were unacceptable for public review.

Yet when Brandon was on his medications, he was calm, docile, but nearly incoherent and incapable of grasping a thought.

Certainly, if one psychiatrist was right and he was bipolar, his manic episodes were filled with colorful visions of exciting ideas from a fellow that seemed to have the energy to solve the problems of the whole world.

But his depression was frightening, making you wonder if you should leave him for fear that he might do harm to himself.

The last time I saw Brandon he was in a mental hospital and seemed to have found a place where he could dominate the weaker inmates, while still maintaining the appearance of submitting to the hospital staff.

He didn’t even recognize me.

He had forgotten who I was.

It reminded me of that common phrase, “He was in his own world.”

He truly was.

It was not a planet that intersected with any of the common attributes of earthlings.

Yet it was a world … and he was King.

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