The Crippling Curveball

Doing the radio thing on the way to work, I heard a local (retired) sports star speaking about a charity event. (Sadly, they first had to discuss the fact that he was chosen as one of about 6 people in the city to be invited to breakfast with the Lost-Texas-Village-Idiot in-Chief, who happened to be in town this week. Sports Star actually said he thought The Idiot was a good man - which, I guess, MIGHT be true, and that he was doing a good job as Idiot-in-Chief, which is irrefutably NOT true.) But I digress...

By continuing to listen, I was able to hear a far better message, despite this proselytizing propogandic bullshit...

The charity he was pimping was founded by a woman and her husband several years ago. It raises money for research into spinal cord injuries. The reason they were into it just blew me away: The woman (who wasn't an old lady) went to sit in a hammock on a fine autumn day. Said hammock was about 2 feet off the ground. The hammock (as hammocks are wont to do) slid around on her and she fell to the ground - and broke her friggin back. She has been paralyzed ever since.

I'd like to say that in the ensuing days, I haven't felt a moment of self-pity - that I have been fully appreciative and grateful for all that I have. And for all that hasn't happened to me. But that, too, would be proselytizing propogandic bullshit. And I don't want to contribute to the huge gaping hole of ozone in the Sky of Truth. So I will just be honest: there have been many moments since I heard that woman's story when - after realizing I'd fallen into my shallow toilet bowl of how I'd like things to be different than they are - I was pulled back into reality...the reality that I have absolutely nothing to bitch about.

Life isn't fair. And for that ( so far) I am grateful.

Oh...yeah...I had to give a little something to the charity, too, because it always makes me feel a bit sleazy when I feel better about my life after hearing of another's misfortune. But her story certainly has given me some perspective.

If you see me, ask if I'm still grateful that life ain't fair - because you never know - life might just throw me one of those crippling curveballs between now and then.

Ancient Document Proves Christians to Blame for Letter "T"

Sardinia, Italy - A discovery on the island of Sardinia, nestled between the Tyrrhenian and Meditarranean Seas, has brought into question the origins of the letter "T." A group of anthropologists - accompanied by linguistic experts and etymologists - claims to have uncovered evidence that the letter "T" originated as a propoganda tool by early Christians.

The symbol in English for the sound "T" originated from "tau," the twenty-second and last character of the ancient Hebrew alphabet. In its earliest form, it was written "X" but represents the letter "T."

Conspiracy theorists have long speculated that early Christians altered the letter's representation into the alphabet as Christianity moved from the underground - when use of the ichthus, or "Jesus fish," fell out of favor. The recently uncovered document - carbon dated to the second century A.D. - details an early Christian power struggle over the use of ichthus, which had been a pagan symbol of the Mother Godess' vulva. [See above illustration.]

"Although the letter 'T' had been in use prior to this," said Dr. Lowell Cunningham, the director of the project, "this document proves that early Christians played a significant role in altering the letter from what was essentially a plus sign [+] - with equal lines - to its current incarnation as symbolic of the cross [ T ]."

Pagans plan to march on the Vatican later this year in an effort to raise support for their calls to return the letter "T" to a plus sign. "What this does," exclaimed self-described pagan, Marcus Cross, "is verify everything we have felt to be true but couldn't prove. Christianity usurped not only our holidays, our symbols and many of our rituals - including the drinking of lamb's blood - but they have altered all English-speaking people's consciousness. Subliminally, every time a 'T' is written or read, at a subconscious level, you are forced to pray...we think the world has had enough!"

When asked about the fact that this is only true when one writes a small 'T' and not the capitalized version, he said the group is open to compromise.

A spokeswoman for the Pope officially denies any involvement by the Catholic Church.

Effing Funny

The Sweetest Mortgage Partner Ever! had her 7-year-old nephew and 9-year-old niece stay with us for a few days. While they are incredibly sweet and ridiculously well-behaved, it didn't matter in terms of lessening my aversion to the apparently normal instinct that most mammals have to recreate themselves in their own image and likeness. (I just don't get it: It's like signing up for 20-25 years of indentured servitude. Really? You want to do that? I mean, willingly? Even enthusiastically?)

Whatever I am lacking or whatever defect I have, I thank the Flying Spaghetti Monster - daily.

The highlight of their stay may have been when we took them to their first big-league ballgame. They wanted to go back the next night. (Our measley money pile - an anthill, really - would not allow it.)

They are as good and as fun as kids can be...and it still made me check Sweetest Mortgage Partner Ever!'s birth control schedule and the condom stash. (Two-ply, thank you very much.)

Okay...on with the Effing Funny show...

The youngest nephew, who is three, had the following contribution to "Effing Funniest" while eating at a fast-food restaurant (that shall remain anonymous) during the kid drop-off:

Mom (eating a salad with soybeans): "What's the other name for these, besides 'soy'?"

SMPE!: "Edamame."

Youngest Nephew, not missing a beat: "And a daddy." Then he casually took another bite of burger.

And, while at the African section of the zoo:

SMPE!: "Doesn't this look a lot like the real African savanna?"

Nine-year-old niece: "Yes, it does. Except for all the park benches."

Gotta love the 9-year-old smartass. (Especially one who is too sweet to be aware of her own sarcasm.)