Compatible

Compatible: (adj) two things able to exist or occur together without conflict.

I sat patiently listening to the young psychologist try to explain to those who had gathered for what had turned into a boring lecture about what it truly means to “be compatible.”

He was well-studied (which always guarantees a certain amount of error).

He said, “It is important for a couple to find the things they share in common and to celebrate their differences.”funny wisdom on words that begin with a C

I don’t know whether I was the only one in the room who thought, “Oh, my God, kill me before I ever have to be in that discussion.”

But the tepid response he received and the lack of questions let me know that the audience had moved far beyond this young man’s learning–into the actual world of doing.

Having a relationship with anyone or anything is certainly about being compatible. But it is foolish to over-complicate the scenario.

Simply stated.. do your plugs fit?

If it’s a romantic situation, it will be necessary to find out if you like each other’s lips, each other’s hands, each other’s genitals, each other’s odors, each other’s habits and each other’s…others.

There will be adjustments. After all, as in the case of plugs, two identical plugs do not hook up. They require different ends to their means.

So sexually, a woman does not have to be a dynamo, nor does a man need the largest penis in the Sahara Desert. They just have to find out how their plugs hook up and work on adaptors.

Likewise, how do your plugs hook up on finance? She spends, he’s thrifty. That is completely compatible as long as she has money that is hers and he doesn’t lament how she uses it.

How do your plugs hook up about raising kids? She’s a strong disciplinarian, he’s a wimp. So when there are wimpy issues, let him head the class. When the little turds need stronger language, let Mama do the job.

Over-complicating human relationships always makes us believe that we’re incompatible.

“Black people can’t be around white people. White people like organ music and black people like tambourines.” It is possible to play the tambourine with an organ, and it’s also historical to rock your organ out a little bit.

Compatible is not difficult: check your plugs. Wiggle them around. Find a way to make them fit.

Nothing on Earth is really natural–everything requires a bit of work.

Otherwise, we all would be perniciously lazy.

 

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Communism

Communism: (n) a political theory derived from Karl Marx advocating a society in which all property is publicly owned

Perhaps the most amazing part of life on Earth is that notions, ideas, religions, philosophies and promotional campaigns can spring forth, and need never establish their validity as long as they’re well-funded.

It’s a bit unnerving.

One might have a tendency to go chasing after the brass band that plays the loudest, because there is no monitoring system to determine where the band is going or if it has any future.

If you want to evaluate the intelligence and ultimate worth of an idea, measure it against three undeniable truths:

  1. Human beings like to lie
  2. Human beings are lazy
  3. Human beings are finicky

I suppose you could argue with these assertions, but in the long run, our race does not like to.

Race, that is.

We want things easy. We want our portion and half of yours. We want to vote on everything, even if it has already been decided by nature.

So it doesn’t take long to realize that communism, and even socialism, have absolutely no chance of ever working as long as the mission is undertaken by human beings.

What you will end up doing is making an exciting start, notice disappointing returns and have to either kill the people who are the laziest, or abandon the foolishness of thinking that any of us are able to share everything in common.

Karl may have made his Marx on Earth, but unfortunately, the system he conjured has a sympathetic edge, and no real ability to cut through the problems.

 

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Caveat

Caveat: (n) a stipulation, condition, or limitation

A caveat is when we add honesty to a thought.

We come up with something to say, but rather than allowing ourselves to be misleading, we add a phrase–usually on the end–which better
clarifies our position.

It is what makes human beings human, and therefore powerful. We are only foolish when we try to be gods or wallow in the jungle, pretending we are mere animals.

It is hope mingled with the reality that presents who we really are.

Case in point:

  • I love you, but it’s not easy.
  • I will be there, if I don’t get lazy
  • I worship God until He confuses the hell out of me.
  • I am happy until I decide I’m not.
  • I am color blind–except when I accidentally see color.
  • I am reliable as long as you check up on me.
  • I am selfish, but every once in a while, escape the prison.
  • I am getting older, but still have a few steps left.
  • I wish you the best, and I hope I’ll be there to help you get it.

Perhaps a caveat is what we should lead with in explaining our true situation, but I certainly contend that a nice little jolt of optimism sweetens the deal before we have to tell the whole truth.

 

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Cabinet

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Cabinet: (n) a cupboard with drawers or shelves for storing or displaying articles.

It was my first apartment.

I point that out so you will not think I continue to be stupid or am perpetually lazy.

When I rented it, the landlord explained that the cabinet on the wall, wherein were kept the dishes, was loose, and he would be more than happy to send
somebody to fix it.

I was young, impetuous and wanted to come across looking like I had some ability, so I said, “Don’t worry about it. I think I can take care of this one.”

We will never know if my statement was true–because I never found the time to work on that cabinet, which was determined to come unhinged.

After a while, it began jutting out more and more and dipping. (Basically, I never had to reach in to get the dishes–just opened the door and they fell out.)

I actually became adept at putting a hand on the middle of the cabinet, getting it to latch enough to look as if it was repaired.

It was not. Repaired, that is.

It did cling for a while, but then one day, when I was loading dishes and all of them were stacked, it gave way and fell from the wall, scattering plates in every direction–of course, breaking each and every one.

Being the mental giant I was and the essence of true wisdom, I yelled at the cabinet.

I told it where to go.

It did not care. It had given sufficient warning of its dismal intention.

I could have fixed it, but then I would have lost all those days of procrastinating enjoyment.

For you see, procrastination is very fulfilling until it catches up with reality–where payment is demanded.

 

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Busybody

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Busybody: (n) a meddling or prying person.

There is a danger in turning vice, immorality or even sin into charactures so as to escape any referrence to these pieces of nastiness being associated with our actions. So we tend to make sexual immorality broad-stroked–as prostitues, whores and gigolos–and lying as gangsters or Congressmen.

But when am I immoral? When am I a liar?

I’m immoral when I don’t follow the morality that is healthy for humans and I’m a liar when I don’t tell the truth.

God, I don’t like that definition.

I do not like being lumped in with the more decrepit and deceitful members of the human race. It’s much easier for me to believe that a busybody is an old woman sitting around her house frowning at all the joy of the young people around her, secretly jealous because they continue to be optimistic, and she is now old, dried-out and bitter.

I wouldn’t want to think that my personal jealousies, which cause me to throw a little bit of a negative comment about other people, to diminish their character, would have anything to do with being a busybody.

Certainly the member of a political party who sideswipes a person from an opposing political party is not a busybody. Right?

Refusing to understand the changing trends in society and insisting on trying to preserve the old ways doesn’t make me a busybody–even if I tend to criticize those who disagree with me.

A busybody is someone who’s old. And as long as I don’t think I’m old, I couldn’t be a busybody.

Actually, the name is rather ironic–because those who gossip,. refuse to change, are inflexible, judgmental or selfish tend to have very lazy bodies.

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Broom

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Broom: (n) a long-handled brush of bristles or twigs used for sweeping.

I know what a broom is.

I have seen one.Dictionary B

I could even identify one at a distance.

If sent into a large room to find it, I would be successful in no time at all.

Yet I really don’t know anything about a broom.

I’ve had one thrust in my direction with belligerent orders to “help clean up.” But I’ve always been a little bit of a loss as to what the correct process is in “brooming.”

I’ve seen people take short, brusque strokes–like they were angry at the floor or infuriated with the dirt.

Then I’ve seen people take long, easy passing with the broom, sweeping up the dirt gently in front of them.

There are brooms that work sideways.

There are brooms that work up and down.

(I guess that’s it.)

But I am a little embarrassed to admit that my “broomsmanship” has been lacking, partially because I’m lazy, but mostly because when I tried to use one, a nearby competitor (normally a female) would snatch it from my hands because I was failing to be reverent.

She’d demonstrate and then hand it back to me, and rapscallion that I am, I would realize that if I could simulate an additional failure, in no time at all she would insist I was incompetent and do the job herself.

It always worked.

I’m embarrassed to share it with you.

But I must be honest–I have no great stories about “brooming”–only being able to tell you that I can identify one.

 

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Bramble

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Bramble: (n) a prickly scrambling vine or shrub

Is the Universe a sporadic series of incomplete evolutions, or a well-constructed and defined object lesson?

It’s a damn good question.Dictionary B

Because if I were to believe that everything is spawned by chance, then I might be completely unable to make sense of anything around me.

But if there is some sort of reason, purpose or genius behind the way things are placed, then I have the glorious task of unraveling the mystery.

Why do roses have thorns?

And why do bramble bushes have prickly parts that make it difficult to pick the berries which often inhabit their vines?

What’s the message?

Is there a need for us to be discouraged in the pursuit of beauty and nutrition?

Are we to understand that blessing is achieved, rather than guaranteed?

Is the Creator trying to separate the perseverant from the lazy?

Because plucking a rose is risking a prick.

And hunting for berries might tear at your skin.

Is there a message here? Or am I reading deeper thoughts than intended into an evolutionary mishap?

I’m not sure.

But I can tell you, the pursuit of wisdom never fails us … even if there’s very little information to be uncovered.

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