A MESSAGE FROM CLETUS: BIBLE BELT CATHLIK

Hi y'all. I'm Cletus - former hed of security at eeee-dubya-tee-enn. Thatz rite, I yousd to wurk 4 Mother Angelica. I luv Mother, sheez a wunderful nun. So kind to me and the missus. Butt why I'm nowz "former" hed of security... well, that matter iz still the courts... he he he.

Don't chyoo laff at me now, Cathlik peoplez. I know you're thinkn my name's funny. Golly, my Pappy named me after Pope Anacletus, a saint don't ya know. He was voted in to hed Our Blessed Lord's Church probablee round 76 aay-dee. And don't chya know that my name means "one who has been called". Well, least that's what it sayz in Billy Bob's Cathlik Ensyklopeedia.


So there... and the other day this teee-aych-too guy called me to fill in fur him whilst heez workin on wun of his articlez for this here blaug... Uh? What the heyl is blaug? Iz that sum kinda New York Citee thang? Personally - and don't tell nobody, but I think heez a turd. Nuntheless, Our Blessed Lord sayz that we must be chairitable and paichent with our naybers. So considern that - and factor'n in my southern hospitalitee, I shall oblige. And hav yoo seen that Mr. Scampers? Fuuuneeee... That guy iz a barrel of laffs.

Anyhoo, last night me and Lamar are cow tipping, ya know... and that got me thinkn. "What in tarnation shall I rite about?", I axed myself whilst ruminatin under the starry celestial dome. German philosophee, I pondurd. Immanuel Kant, purhaps... and what wuz that guy talkn bout anyhow? Shucks, I'm not that much inta book learnin n stuff, but I did reed hiz Criteek of Pur Reezon and, let me tell ya... I was afterward fumin and freeked-out like a racoon trapped in a corner by a troop of prancin littergical dancers. After reeding that book I was so angry that I wanted to go bak in time and whoop his precusoring Nazi ass.

But I don't wanna talk bout him no mor. Neether do I wanna rite anymor. This iz borin. So here iz some pixchurs that you may be intrested in:

This iz my faverit monster truck.

This iz my faverit tee-shirt.
This iz not my faverit cuzin, Purnell. Heez a libral Cathlik.

Time to go now. Gotta go hunt'n for sum bunnee rabbitz with my handee pop gun that you seez me holdn in the pixchur. I better get me one of those critters else the missus will be on my case.

God bless, y'all.

A MESSAGE FROM CLETUS: BIBLE BELT CATHLIK

TH2 AFTER A DAY OF WORK

I came across this video some time ago and forgot about it. The notorious LarryD just posted a modified version, reminding me again of this classic in Commie cheese, which (incidentally) accurately portrays yours truly after a day of labour and toil.

Strange... why aren't my friends returning my phone messages anymore?

TH2 AFTER A DAY OF WORK

THE METAPHYSICS OF CEMENT BLOCKS

[START RANT]

Grammatically speaking, the word “block” can be taken in two acceptations, as a noun or a verb.

If a noun, then a block can be defined as something that is solid and immobile. Now what qualities do we note when making an appraisal of a block of cement? Admittedly, not exactly a stimulating exercise, as cement blocks are not very interesting existents. Nonetheless, we might still glean some insight.

Now the first property we observe is that the block of cement just sits there. It does nothing. It presents itself as such. It is what it is. That is all. It is bland and boorish. It takes no notice of that which is outside itself. Offer your hand to it in friendship and it remains motionless. If you speak to it, no rejoinder comes. Silence. Thus its alien, inorganic presence becomes even more obtrusive. It has accomplished its first task - obviousness. Any attempt at communication with this thing is fruitless. Any word or deed which makes an effort to go through the block is, in the final analysis, an impossibility. The block is impassable.

Alienation is not imposed upon the block. It alienates itself by its very substantive attributes. Both its existence, or its physical aspects (e.g. rigidity, hardness), and its essence, or its nature (i.e. how it is represented to the person who senses it) are the same.

The block cannot really know about anything outside itself since it is enclosed within itself. Anyone who does not assent to it is shut out. If you pour some water on the block to cool down on a hot summer day the water only flows over the sides into the ground. If some water does pool atop the block, it rapidly evaporates. The water does not interpenetrate the block. It functions only as a transient sheet, a juxtaposing veneer, temporarily soothing the severity of a desiccating heat which the block experiences. Water and the block concatenate but do not intermix. The water does not go through so as to transform.

If a reversion is made to violence by taking a sledge hammer and pounding the block into minute fragments, one could still not understand how the block is within. Such an action would only modify the relative magnitude of the block’s internal contents. Each of the shattered remnants would maintain the same identity as the original block. It is what it is.

The second grammatical acceptation of a block is conveyed with a verb. Here the block functions, it acts, meaning that which impedes progression or that which interferes with an attainment. It forms a blockade, prohibiting interchange, designating unbreachable boundaries. It interrupts the affairs of the day, so to speak. Resultantly the block as a verb in this context isolates itself from that which is outside itself. It bars off from view that which does not accord with its aims.

Is there a block of cement in your life?

[END BIZARRE RANT]

THE METAPHYSICS OF CEMENT BLOCKS

HOV LAYNE MANNEQUIN

All out of boredom, gentlemen, all out of boredom.
- Fyodor Dostoyevsky, Notes From Underground

UPI reports the following on February 4:

Deputy not fooled by carpool mannequin

Deputies in New York's Suffolk County said a woman was ticketed for driving in a carpool lane alone with a mannequin disguised as a passenger.

Mike Sharkey, Suffolk County Sheriff's Office chief of staff, said Deputy Robert Howard was driving Tuesday on the Long Island Expressway in Islandia when he grew suspicious of a car in the high-occupancy vehicle lane because the passenger was wearing a visor and sunglasses despite the cloudy weather, Newsday reported Thursday.

Sharkey said Howard pulled over Kathleen Frascinella, 61, of Mount Sinai, N.Y., and discovered her only passenger was a mannequin dressed in clothing including a blazer and a scarf.

Frascinella was issued a $135 citation for operating a vehicle in the HOV lane without a passenger.

"At first glance, this may seem humorous, but it is not a joking matter when you drive off with a ticket," Sheriff Vincent DeMarco said.

This reminds me...

HOV LAYNE MANNEQUIN