Let's have some literate fun! Celebrate Fools!
"Why reinvent the past with the assets of the future?[1] The times are rotten[2], the culture sick.[3] Fools rule.[4] Capacity weakens.[5] Let's turn our imagination to nobler possibilities." (ROM)
"Tenebrae mentium tenebra orbis." (BMcC)
Keep a low profile! Dress as you like insofar as people won't notice it too much, not as current fashion dictates! Let your tongue hang out when they cannot see (cats do it)! Play a musical instrument if you can, in private! Remember: "If you find something don't tell anybody; if you lose something don't tell anybody" (Solzhenitsyn). Let's have safe literate fun!
Young men, ages 18 to 60: We are actively recruiting! Learn latin! Help develop our state of the art AI rosary reader! Other benefits include exemption from military and corvée service in this life, and good hope for the next![6]
Here, let's engage work as the work of peers.
Shakespeare lived an ordinary life, just like you.
This is a metaphysics-free zone.
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Footnotes
- ↑ What past? A social group which does not know about the wheel cannot reinvent it!
- ↑ "Bad news does not get better with age." (Former Philadelphia PA Police Commissioner, CNN, ref. lost)
- ↑ Wilfred Bion said social customs are shared hallucinoses aka shared pychoses.
- ↑ Let us have a return of real fools: Persons dressed in foolish clothes whose job it is to speak truth to power, but with the silly clothes the king take them as seriously or lightly as he sees fit and the fool keeps his or her head when others dressed in proper clothes of the court du jour, might well lose theirs for saying the same things. Such fools are wise, neither toadies nor know-it-alls. They both know which side their bread is buttered on and also when to tell the king his side is in trouble. George Carlin in costume might be such a fool; even buck naked, (POTUS №40) President of The United States of America Ronald Reagan would not be. In a pinch, such a fool just might be ably to rule, but not Ronald Reagan. Maybe the funniest costume of all would be if the fool came dressed and made up to look like Ronald Reagan, or better yet, like Janus, showing Ronnie from the front and Nancy from the back, but then how would the misbegotten creature defecate, since lacking a proper backside? Might an uncorrectable defect in that regard have been the best part of it, for then it would have ruptured from the internal pressure of its accumulating unevacuated metabolic products?
- ↑ No problema! We have MAGAbytes of storage. Although it has no ECC, it byes back!
- ↑ (+2022.04.09) "Hey, Brother John! Blessings to you! How's it going over there in our Ivano Frankivs'k [Ukraine] abbey? Did I pronounce that right, Brother John?" "Not much doing here, Brother Mike. Blessings to you, too! Yes, you got our good name right." "No recruiting business there?" "No, brother. Everybody must be praying all the time, I guess." "Thanks for the good news, Brother John! I'll pass it on to our beloved Abbot. Pax vobiscum!" "10-4, Brother Mike. Same to you! Over and out."
(+2022.07.14) "Hi, Brother John! Blessings to you, again! How's it going over there in our Ivano Frankivs'k [Ukraine] abbey, today?" "Brother Mike, I really don't know. Maybe all the young men are dead. We just stay here in our abby and pray and try to keep our spirits up but I'm afraid things are getting really bad." "You serious, Brother?" "No joking, Brother Mike. Tell our beloved Abbot that we monks are doing OK here in the abby but when we look out at the town and the countryside we don't see much except some women and small children and a few really old men. We offer bread to the hungry, but it's almost like a ghost town here. Nobody's asking for absolution for their sins. I don't know, Brother. I think all the action is to the South and East, but we don't dare send any of our Brothers out to do reconnaissance, for fear they will be kidnapped and sent to the front by the irregulars who occasionally sweep the town looking for draft dodgers." "I'm really sorry we can't help you, Brother John. I'll pass this very sad news on to our beloved Abbot. But you all are OK for the moment?" "Yes, Brother Mike. Everybody wears their robes 24-7 and that seems to keep us all safe for the time being. If we have to get out we may need to dress as nuns since the fighters have weird notion about women, but we're not at that point yet." "Well, what can I say, Brother John? Pax vobiscum, for what it's worth!" "10-4, Brother Mike. We all love one another, whatever happens. May God save all their souls! Over and out."
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