Lola:-
Hadn't you better scarper.We don't want to take any risks on you getting singed.
It's a few blocks away. I'm in no danger. And the smoke is diminishing already. It was something to see though. But not much.
It is amazing to see how quickly the fire department reacts here.....that's a good thing, I think. And necessary too.
Lola;-
Same as usual.I'm fine.I'm really fine.I really am.I insist.I'm sat down at the moment.Fag on.Brew.
Have duties shortly.Otherwise I'm FINE.Can't you tell?Wonderful.Hope you are.That's the main thing.
you do sound fine as fine can be.....that's always nice. I want to know details, Smarty.
Lola:-
What sort of details.There's a lot of detail.My boots are full of dried mud.Beige now its dry and I have a pile of skin off my shin due to carelessness on the economic battlefield.My pulse has jumped as usual when I see your avvie.I'm forever on a knife edge of anxiety lest I say something you don't approve of and cause you to bolt.
My cup runneth over.
Whatever you may say or do that would offend me is always made up for with a nice compliment like the one above. Never fear. I'm every bit as tough as you are......which I suspect isn't much.
Lola:-
I had a good idea in the pub last night.
Imagine if you had had a crystal ball when you were,say,18,and it had showed you scenes of the things you are doing now.You could then judge if what you are doing now,at any point,would meet with your younger self's approval and thus decide on the wisdom or stupidity of doing it.Suppose somebody,myself say,only did things his younger self would approve.I would have approved of the scene in the pub and that could be used as a justification for going to the pub everynight.I don't think the average couch potato could say that.
I'll teach you how to pick and choose
And how to throw the blade.
Lola;-
I wonder what a Cambridge philosopher would have thought seeing his current incarnation at 18.
If I could have seen myself now when I was 18, I would have been amazed, but intensely proud.....as I remain still.
How about you, Spendi? Are you proud?
Lola:-
Proud is not the word I would choose.Reasonably satisfied I suppose is the best I could have hoped for and I'm just about that.
But I wasn't really being personal.I avoid that sort of thing when I can.It was just a theoretical idea to check out whether what you were doing at any time would have looked insane to your young self.Cleaning the car for example or your shoes.Mowing the lawn;ironing creases into your trousers;tidying up a lady's underwear drawer;kneeling submissively before The Goddess incarnation.That sort of thing.Reading a newspaper.
All a bit daft to a young self.Not like shouting a winner home or being a member of The Acadamy Seven,which I am.That is a real exclusive club.Its so exclusive I don't know who the other six are.But they are all brutes.Bernie is a faint possible.
And I have to quit now too.The servants glare at me when I'm late in the dining room.They put the soup in the fridge to teach me better manners.Bloody socialism.
The long post will have to stew a little longer.I need time for it.
Love spendius.
Quote:tidying up a lady's underwear drawer
how did you know? Do you have spies?
Lola:-
Yes,but not the sort of spies you probably have in mind.No leaks.No PMs.Nothing so crude as that.There are such things as first principles.And inexorable logic.Overwhelming evidence.Drip,drip,drip until a lake is formed.It comes from focus,dedication and concentration.3 things more or less absent around here.And,if I may be so bold,much to everybody's disadvantage.
One might call it,for want of a better word ostrichism and there's more than enough sand to go round.It is the prime aim of the educational system to render the masses impotent and it is achieved through limiting attention spans.It works too.Nobody of significance takes the slightest notice of anything said on here.It is just like the pub.Last night I stood speechless at the display of banality wondering all the while what the outcome would be.It might be like that in the CPD.It wouldn't surprise me.
"Sometimes I feel so low down and disgusted
Can't help but wonder what's happening to my
companions
Are they lost or are they found,have they counted the cost it'll take to bring down
All their earthly principles they're gonna have to abandon.
Yeah-well-you're either a Dylan fan or you ain't and if you are a verse like that makes you jump.It doesn't go in one ear and out the other.It is food for thought.For focus.Is a slow train comin'?
Arrived at 7:10 sharp. Pulled out precisely 8 minutes later. Now what?
We're off.......that's what
MG:-
Slow trains are not sharp.They are -well-er-er-er-uh-er-well-slow.And they don't turn around in 8 minutes.And precise is not the word either.And when you get on board you know what.
Go on-sit in the corner saying now what.
What we on board are going to try to do is avoid pointlessness.We may not succeed but we are going to try.Most posts are pointless.You can tell that by the speed they slip down the front page and are forgotten.The "stickies" can be ignored.They are due to influence.The last post on one of them was 40 days ago.
So what would have point is the question begged.How about what makes life last longer and be happier.There's some point there surely.Anything else is pointless unless it is a professional activity.A job.A money thing.Money helps on health and happiness doesn't it?But bringing the mind into congruence with the needs of the body,the central nervous system,is important too,and especially when the socialisation process is rigged for the opposite,discordance.Posts that simply let off steam are healthy for those with a steam pressure build up.
Spendius is ploughing around looking for somebody interesting from these points of view.Somebody to have a good laugh with because laughing is healthy according to Rabelais and many others including myself.And there is always a possibility of making money.
How can a set in concrete persona make anybody happy or healthy.The only function of such a thing is as a defence mechanism.What against is a matter of conjecture.What's required is a jelly persona that can fit in anywhere.
In company it is natural to look for people who can do you some good.Somebody with some ideas you haven't met before.Somebody,say, who gets hot share tips or a sweet running horse or even with some good books.Isn't somebody like that more interesting than somebody who runs on about their daily doings or about what Mr Bush ought to do next or about conjuring God to their aid.Where's the point in any of that.Dylan once said he could just as easy drive a bus.That's pretty cool.
What one really wants,on the Holy slow train,is something simple to help discriminate between what or who might be useful or not.What has struck me is that the simplest selection method is the abstract/concrete dichotomy.The concrete is all incidents none of which are of the slightest importance.There were two grown men on the bar last night who spent 20 minutes telling each other what they had had for dinner,how it was cooked and how much they liked it.When they had run out of further ideas they looked at me and one of them said-"You're very quiet Spendius" and I reminded them that they had forgotten the salt and pepper and that the subject of their conversation was,as we spoke,in their bowels and would be in the sea by tomorrow evening.It's narcissisism city in my pub.Despite the myth of Narcissus being there to serve as a warning.They both have had triple by-passes and are being kept alive by the medical profession which didn't exist through most of the history our bodies have been evolved in.It's all very well saying "with my body I do thee wed" but the body can't be a party to that now can it.Nor to be anything else than a body.
So now there's something concrete to go on.A body with a mind it is out of synch with is "bound to get ill".(Licence To Kill).WOWEEEE!!!!
This morning, I woke up at 7am, lifted my head and propped myself up on my left elbow and looked out the window. I saw it was still snowing. I turned my body on it's side and sat up, putting my feet on the floor. I put my hands above my head and stretched and yawned. I stood and walked to the kitchen. Then I opened the door of the frig and looked for my water. It was there, just as I had left it the night before. I picked it up and drank. Then I closed the frig door and . . . . . .
the phone rang. I walked to the telephone on my desk and I picked up the receiver and said, "hello"...........
Lola:-
I could make that mean any one of a few dozen things.
But anyway-"hello!what's happening.
I'm dead busy.I'm in and out like a stick of rock at a dyke's convention.
No answers eh?OK Something simple.What classes as a "loft" in New York?
