Greetings my Lobolians
Whoever you are, whereever you are, since it is hard for me to know of those things. I have only gotten one comment in two years from a viewer, so the vast majority of you need to say more or I can never tailor my posts to your liking.
I am rather tired tonight, so I don't think I will write more. But you should. It's easier to comment than it is to post, you just have to read stuff that I write down for you and hit the comment button. Then you say something like, You rock Lobolius! or Lobolius-I think you are an idiot. I won't mind either, really. I am a true believer in freedom of speech.
Roman Wolf
12.02.2007
11.27.2007
Is there some point to the world or do we simply like to delude ourselves? Come on, face it, the world is a large spinning ball containing mostly water, salt water, with a bit of dirt here and there, and some ice on top and bottom. That's all there is. Why should such a ball have a purpose for each and every one of us?
But being human, and homo sapiens, wise humans, at that, we all have concluded that there is a point to our wisdom. We need a point for our wisdom, an outlet for those superfluous conclusions we draw every day. That is why the internet is so popular. We have all been raised in America to believe that we are all unique and special, but with so many unique and special voices, we need to be heard above the clamor.
The postmodern world is said to be filled with such ruckus, a mindless miasma of thoughts disconnected from the world around them, beings trapped without a sense of location, when, like me, they wander onto a computer and tap the powers of the net.
But is it that bad? Does not the internet, with its super strength of individualism surmount that babble? Of course it doesn't. The Rant is a single voice yapping in a loud brook, surrounded by thousands of other yappers, and a handful of screamers whose voices are known, heard, and occasionally recognized by many people who skim the net for those who can be heard.
There is more sound than ears to listen, more to be heard than can ever be heard. That is the nature of the world I and so many of the people my age have grown up in, yet we have all been told from infancy that our voices matter, that what we say counts. We have been raised knowing both realities as inherently true, and some people look at us and wonder, why are the young people today so disenchanted, so cynical, so refusing to vote? We have been decieved. That is why.
We have grown up with soundless voices, talked with our fingers, looked with a two dimensional screen and made friends with images alone. What else could we be but image centric, snappy thinkers who cannot look in depth at an issue? A generalization of course, but truer than many of us would like to admit to. We are fought by our own world as we grow up, yet coddled and told we are safe and loved.
Our own inherited passions have destroyed us, the technology we have been raised to love has replaced any other world in beauty, in rightness. There is no swifter way to learn, to talk, to experiance the world than the internet, but one day there will be. And that is the ultimate hope for any generation, that they outlive what they were born with and eventually become capable of remembering antiquated things, like vcrs.
Roman Wolf
But being human, and homo sapiens, wise humans, at that, we all have concluded that there is a point to our wisdom. We need a point for our wisdom, an outlet for those superfluous conclusions we draw every day. That is why the internet is so popular. We have all been raised in America to believe that we are all unique and special, but with so many unique and special voices, we need to be heard above the clamor.
The postmodern world is said to be filled with such ruckus, a mindless miasma of thoughts disconnected from the world around them, beings trapped without a sense of location, when, like me, they wander onto a computer and tap the powers of the net.
But is it that bad? Does not the internet, with its super strength of individualism surmount that babble? Of course it doesn't. The Rant is a single voice yapping in a loud brook, surrounded by thousands of other yappers, and a handful of screamers whose voices are known, heard, and occasionally recognized by many people who skim the net for those who can be heard.
There is more sound than ears to listen, more to be heard than can ever be heard. That is the nature of the world I and so many of the people my age have grown up in, yet we have all been told from infancy that our voices matter, that what we say counts. We have been raised knowing both realities as inherently true, and some people look at us and wonder, why are the young people today so disenchanted, so cynical, so refusing to vote? We have been decieved. That is why.
We have grown up with soundless voices, talked with our fingers, looked with a two dimensional screen and made friends with images alone. What else could we be but image centric, snappy thinkers who cannot look in depth at an issue? A generalization of course, but truer than many of us would like to admit to. We are fought by our own world as we grow up, yet coddled and told we are safe and loved.
Our own inherited passions have destroyed us, the technology we have been raised to love has replaced any other world in beauty, in rightness. There is no swifter way to learn, to talk, to experiance the world than the internet, but one day there will be. And that is the ultimate hope for any generation, that they outlive what they were born with and eventually become capable of remembering antiquated things, like vcrs.
Roman Wolf
11.08.2007
Hello Lobolians!
I fear this blog has lost it's political teeth, especially compared to last year. Well, I want to change that.
To do so, I will start with a topic that many consider frivilous in the world of politics, but not so frivolous as to make me shy away from it while biting hard on political matters.
So, now, in keeping with my theory of enforced neutrality by bombing everyone, I guess i will go after the democrats. Consider that lineup they give us. The standard fare of old white men, an old black man, a young black man (too young for many to like)and a white woman.
And now, we see that come down to this-those two at each other's throats. Where else can a politician's teeth go? How about to being critical of our national debt, in the trillions and largely held by China. Money brought down many nations before this, the Romans among them. But where are those words?
I have no idea where the words against that are. We seem too eager to attack the "other" and too uninterested in doing anything about the issues that need to be attacked.
11.03.2007
How to defeat Obesity, a Sarcastic Approach
People who wish to remain anomymous have touted a brilliant new way to combat the obesity epidemic in today's youth. While admitting that some find it a little extreme, they insist that it will succeed where M rated video games, freeze dried apples at McDonalds and banning tag on playgrounds has not:
Starve Them.
The plan is simple, really. Child comes back from the M rated Video, asks mom, can i have some cookies? The mom turns gently but firmly to her child and says, no I am sorry honey. You are fat. I read about a way to save you from diabetes.
The kid frowns, aware so far only that he is being denied cookies.
"What's that?" The kid wails, in an age old technique.
"I need to starve you." The mom replies, padlocking the safe loaded with cookies, bread, milk, apples, and cheerios.
Has anyone else ever found situations like this pathetic in some way? I mean, we are a nation largely consisting over the overweight, the underexercising, where the idea of starving yourself is encouraged on websites as a way to become beautiful. In other parts of the world, starving is something everyone dreams of avoiding. Who knows where I am going with this, I just thought it was an interesting foil this morning.
Roman Wolf
Starve Them.
The plan is simple, really. Child comes back from the M rated Video, asks mom, can i have some cookies? The mom turns gently but firmly to her child and says, no I am sorry honey. You are fat. I read about a way to save you from diabetes.
The kid frowns, aware so far only that he is being denied cookies.
"What's that?" The kid wails, in an age old technique.
"I need to starve you." The mom replies, padlocking the safe loaded with cookies, bread, milk, apples, and cheerios.
Has anyone else ever found situations like this pathetic in some way? I mean, we are a nation largely consisting over the overweight, the underexercising, where the idea of starving yourself is encouraged on websites as a way to become beautiful. In other parts of the world, starving is something everyone dreams of avoiding. Who knows where I am going with this, I just thought it was an interesting foil this morning.
Roman Wolf
10.11.2007
The First Covenant War, A Two Part Documentary by Karla Vixen Rove of Lobolia
A long time ago, but not that long ago considering the history of the universe, there was a war fought by my old friend Karla Rove and the allied regions of Pygmyraptor and Snowcapped. There was a despot in Pygmyraptor, a cruel and power-hungry tyrant who dreamt of false holiness and eventually tried to take over the world. . . This is the story of his downfall, Part One. . .
10.07.2007
Pumpkin Time
Greetings Lobolians.
It is nearing Halloween. Don't know why I would mention that, except that there is a pumpkin now sitting on my desk, that I was looking at just now. Rather interesting thought, wouldn't you say? Or maybe not, making I make no sense, sitting here talking about pumpkins. Anyone can talk about pumpkins. Who doesn't know about pumpkins?
But why not talk about pumpkins? They are a fascinating plant, one we grow over 10% if each year for no other purpose than to cut funny/scary/sarcastic faces into them, plop them onto our porches, and light candles in them. Rather ridiculous. No other species has ever thought of growing food for the sake of playing with it. Not only that, but mothers around the world ENCOURAGE the practice. Wonder how many see it that way?, . . . .
Just me, Lobolius of the Rant, probably. Yawn. Not a real yawn, just one of those yeah the patheticness of this rant, talking about pumpkins yawn. Sorry folks, tonight your precious Wolf has fallen into the abyss of soft news. I will have harder, more analytical stuff one of these days. But honestly, I don't have any grittiness in the world grating at me. Just quiet thoughts of pumpkins sitting on porches across America, facing the streets for ages past and ages to come, eternally sculpted, constantly rotting and being replaced, year after year. How often do you think about such things? Never?
You should. If there's one message I seek to send out, it's look. Look. Just look, but don't bother memorizing or touching, or seeking, or feeling, or knowing all the time. Look at a pumpkin, look at a leaf falling from a tree, or a bunch of leaves swirling in a tornado. Is that difficult? Or is it too easy to do?
Roman Wolf
It is nearing Halloween. Don't know why I would mention that, except that there is a pumpkin now sitting on my desk, that I was looking at just now. Rather interesting thought, wouldn't you say? Or maybe not, making I make no sense, sitting here talking about pumpkins. Anyone can talk about pumpkins. Who doesn't know about pumpkins?
But why not talk about pumpkins? They are a fascinating plant, one we grow over 10% if each year for no other purpose than to cut funny/scary/sarcastic faces into them, plop them onto our porches, and light candles in them. Rather ridiculous. No other species has ever thought of growing food for the sake of playing with it. Not only that, but mothers around the world ENCOURAGE the practice. Wonder how many see it that way?, . . . .
Just me, Lobolius of the Rant, probably. Yawn. Not a real yawn, just one of those yeah the patheticness of this rant, talking about pumpkins yawn. Sorry folks, tonight your precious Wolf has fallen into the abyss of soft news. I will have harder, more analytical stuff one of these days. But honestly, I don't have any grittiness in the world grating at me. Just quiet thoughts of pumpkins sitting on porches across America, facing the streets for ages past and ages to come, eternally sculpted, constantly rotting and being replaced, year after year. How often do you think about such things? Never?
You should. If there's one message I seek to send out, it's look. Look. Just look, but don't bother memorizing or touching, or seeking, or feeling, or knowing all the time. Look at a pumpkin, look at a leaf falling from a tree, or a bunch of leaves swirling in a tornado. Is that difficult? Or is it too easy to do?
Roman Wolf
9.29.2007
Multiple Topics: One Poor Burdened Blog
Perhaps some of you, while scrolling down futher, will see a picture. They are a couple friends of mine, Karla Rove and Pygmaeus.
that's not what I'm here to talk about, I just wanted to introduce them to you, and have a nice time of it. So now they will be introduced and I will just ignore them.
What is the point of a shoe? Obviously we need shoes, or so we are told, or else we would step on sharp things and feel pain. But our ancestors stepped on sharp things and felt pain, and we are here. But we have evolved past that rock stepping age and moved into the stubbing toe on bedpost stage. Shoes work for both purposes.
And then we can talk about other things now. Shall I talk about water? Dihydrate oxide? Good stuff, not as poisonous as some nerds will have you think. Just water. H20. Very refreshing when you have a dry mouth.
And cell phones. We live for cell phones at times, because without cell phones we would never be able to reach people when we are away from home. That keeps people we know, including ourselves, from ever getting away. Another very useful thing in an age when privacy has become antiquated.
Moving along my list some more, I reach the word starving. Starving children in (insert poor nation/continent here) or simply the hungryish human being in a well off nation who hasn't gone to the kitchen for an hour to eat. Both are described with the same word, but the word has different connotations for different places. Almost all Americans will say they are starving at one point in their life, very few Americans die each day of starvation. We are more likely to kill ourselves, be killed by another human being accidentally or intentionally, or succomb to a fatal disease. Not many of us starve to death.
Okay, that should do me up for the random words and topics of the day. don't die folks, life is pretty sweet once you get used to the sour.
Roman Wolf
that's not what I'm here to talk about, I just wanted to introduce them to you, and have a nice time of it. So now they will be introduced and I will just ignore them.
What is the point of a shoe? Obviously we need shoes, or so we are told, or else we would step on sharp things and feel pain. But our ancestors stepped on sharp things and felt pain, and we are here. But we have evolved past that rock stepping age and moved into the stubbing toe on bedpost stage. Shoes work for both purposes.
And then we can talk about other things now. Shall I talk about water? Dihydrate oxide? Good stuff, not as poisonous as some nerds will have you think. Just water. H20. Very refreshing when you have a dry mouth.
And cell phones. We live for cell phones at times, because without cell phones we would never be able to reach people when we are away from home. That keeps people we know, including ourselves, from ever getting away. Another very useful thing in an age when privacy has become antiquated.
Moving along my list some more, I reach the word starving. Starving children in (insert poor nation/continent here) or simply the hungryish human being in a well off nation who hasn't gone to the kitchen for an hour to eat. Both are described with the same word, but the word has different connotations for different places. Almost all Americans will say they are starving at one point in their life, very few Americans die each day of starvation. We are more likely to kill ourselves, be killed by another human being accidentally or intentionally, or succomb to a fatal disease. Not many of us starve to death.
Okay, that should do me up for the random words and topics of the day. don't die folks, life is pretty sweet once you get used to the sour.
Roman Wolf
9.16.2007
9.12.2007
Questions of the Campfire
Greetings to the World, and all my Lobolians!!!=)
Is there something I want to talk about today, or not? I really can't say. How about we go back to the boy and his mom by the campfire, they're old pals of this blog and always useful in an emergency.
"Mommy? Why is the sky blue? Why do stars look like they twinkle down at us? How was I born?"
The little boy asked his mother, snuggling closer to her because he was young and very tired. It had been a long day for such a young boy, being out camping in the woods and asking these profound questions about life. His mother sighed, but was glad that her son was finally asking normal question for somebody his age. However, she did not know why the sky was blue, or why the stars twinkled. She did, however, know the answer to the third, but thought that the full description would scare him into nightmares.
"It hurt. I screamed, and then you started screaming too. At that moment, I loved you son."
Is there something I want to talk about today, or not? I really can't say. How about we go back to the boy and his mom by the campfire, they're old pals of this blog and always useful in an emergency.
"Mommy? Why is the sky blue? Why do stars look like they twinkle down at us? How was I born?"
The little boy asked his mother, snuggling closer to her because he was young and very tired. It had been a long day for such a young boy, being out camping in the woods and asking these profound questions about life. His mother sighed, but was glad that her son was finally asking normal question for somebody his age. However, she did not know why the sky was blue, or why the stars twinkled. She did, however, know the answer to the third, but thought that the full description would scare him into nightmares.
"It hurt. I screamed, and then you started screaming too. At that moment, I loved you son."
9.07.2007
Remarks on Democracy Part ??
किन्दा करे
No, not Hindi. Want English. Looks cool though, quite different from Roman characters, but being the roman wolf that I am, I hardly could change myself to the Hindi Wolf on a dime.
I was reading down some earlier posts that I had written. One in May caught my eye. I was talking about the Libertarian Republican Candidate who had claimed that taxes only pay for cradle to grave care. I had countered his argument by talking about roads and "crumbling bridges", which nobody wants to drive on. I am from Minnesota. I know the bridge that had fallen, I went out to see where it went down, and I have driven over Minnesotan bridges since then. Sometimes you just gotta pay, or you pay more than just taxes. That is the essence of living in an interactive world. There is no escape from duties that must be done, and there shouldn't be. I don't mean that from any end of the political spectrum, I'll blast anyone who messes with what matters in life, and part of what matters is survival. We all want us, our ideas, our families to survive. Representative Democracy has given us common people our best chance ever. Not the best chance possible. One day a better chance will come. But at least we have the undisputable right to assemble peacably, at least we have the right to make our voices heard in this bright and talkative new age. At least we can decide a very little portion of who makes the decisions from above, so we can control a little more of our destinies. It took two thousand years to come from god-kings, monarchs, rich white man democracy, more monarchs, and finally the 18+ non felon voting rights of today. Two thousand years for women, for African Americans, for eighteen year olds to vote for who send them to war. In 4007, who knows. Maybe sufferage will truly be universal, stretching from planet to planet, all the worlds where mankind can find enough room to live peacefully side by side with one another. One day that may come. I cannot say that it will not, any more than Plato could have wondered about shadows in Mammoth Cave.
Roman Wolf
No, not Hindi. Want English. Looks cool though, quite different from Roman characters, but being the roman wolf that I am, I hardly could change myself to the Hindi Wolf on a dime.
I was reading down some earlier posts that I had written. One in May caught my eye. I was talking about the Libertarian Republican Candidate who had claimed that taxes only pay for cradle to grave care. I had countered his argument by talking about roads and "crumbling bridges", which nobody wants to drive on. I am from Minnesota. I know the bridge that had fallen, I went out to see where it went down, and I have driven over Minnesotan bridges since then. Sometimes you just gotta pay, or you pay more than just taxes. That is the essence of living in an interactive world. There is no escape from duties that must be done, and there shouldn't be. I don't mean that from any end of the political spectrum, I'll blast anyone who messes with what matters in life, and part of what matters is survival. We all want us, our ideas, our families to survive. Representative Democracy has given us common people our best chance ever. Not the best chance possible. One day a better chance will come. But at least we have the undisputable right to assemble peacably, at least we have the right to make our voices heard in this bright and talkative new age. At least we can decide a very little portion of who makes the decisions from above, so we can control a little more of our destinies. It took two thousand years to come from god-kings, monarchs, rich white man democracy, more monarchs, and finally the 18+ non felon voting rights of today. Two thousand years for women, for African Americans, for eighteen year olds to vote for who send them to war. In 4007, who knows. Maybe sufferage will truly be universal, stretching from planet to planet, all the worlds where mankind can find enough room to live peacefully side by side with one another. One day that may come. I cannot say that it will not, any more than Plato could have wondered about shadows in Mammoth Cave.
Roman Wolf
9.02.2007
Greetings Lobolians!
I have returned from a long hiatus, but now you shall hear from me again. In the broad world, that has only recently been united in Internetwork, we consider many to be heroes. We even have a tv show called heroes and I think that show is totally awesome. But again, are we overdefining a term? Shouldn't the word hero, or heroine, be something truly reserved, truly special? What makes a person a hero? Is it doing something we wished we had the guts to do? According to Webster, a hero is a person of myth and legend, a person whose outstanding and amazing feats of strength set them apart from mere mortals. Also according to Webster, some synonyms are martyr, prize athlete, conquerer, victorious general? Who are the enemies todays heroic generals defeat? They defeat their weight, the collapse of a bridge, enemies we led into a country by invading it. We speak also of unsung heroes and seek to honor them, forgetting that to do is a paradox, and the truly unsung hero is known only to those that they save. Known only to the family that holds them to their hearts, even forgets sacrafices that they make ever day. Known only to the person that they save. I dedicate this blog to all those heroes, and heroines I cannot and shall not name. I respect the paradox, and so I will not speak much further of this matter. Know, Lobolians, that life demands heroes, but there isn't enough time in our days, in our years, to name them all. Name one for yourself everday, and maybe together we could name them all.
Roman Wolf
I have returned from a long hiatus, but now you shall hear from me again. In the broad world, that has only recently been united in Internetwork, we consider many to be heroes. We even have a tv show called heroes and I think that show is totally awesome. But again, are we overdefining a term? Shouldn't the word hero, or heroine, be something truly reserved, truly special? What makes a person a hero? Is it doing something we wished we had the guts to do? According to Webster, a hero is a person of myth and legend, a person whose outstanding and amazing feats of strength set them apart from mere mortals. Also according to Webster, some synonyms are martyr, prize athlete, conquerer, victorious general? Who are the enemies todays heroic generals defeat? They defeat their weight, the collapse of a bridge, enemies we led into a country by invading it. We speak also of unsung heroes and seek to honor them, forgetting that to do is a paradox, and the truly unsung hero is known only to those that they save. Known only to the family that holds them to their hearts, even forgets sacrafices that they make ever day. Known only to the person that they save. I dedicate this blog to all those heroes, and heroines I cannot and shall not name. I respect the paradox, and so I will not speak much further of this matter. Know, Lobolians, that life demands heroes, but there isn't enough time in our days, in our years, to name them all. Name one for yourself everday, and maybe together we could name them all.
Roman Wolf
6.17.2007
Peoples
Why, hello all of you Lobolians
Perhaps you have missed me, perhaps you haven't noticed, but I am back again. People always have things to do, places to go, in both this world and the virtual world. That is the defining feature of our time, that with a single bit of will and a small dose of creation we can become anything else and nobody knows the difference. Just yesterday I met in person somebody I've only known over a website. He wasn't the way I imagined him looking, if i even imagined him looking like anything. He was always his country and his country's flag, nothing else. No doubt he closely associated me with Lobolia's wolf flag, and the name Lobolia. That is the height of amusement, and also rather poignant. If I hadn't gone to my friend's party yesterday, that wouldn't have happened, ever. Rather amusing, wouldn't you say?
So as you read this, (There is a point to my actually speaking to you as myself, not the Roman Wolf) remember something for me. Remember that there is a person behind every person you ever meet. There is a person behind the face at the check-out counter, the local hamburger pigoout joint, the annoying car that just won't drive ten miles over the speed limit.
Thank you
Perhaps you have missed me, perhaps you haven't noticed, but I am back again. People always have things to do, places to go, in both this world and the virtual world. That is the defining feature of our time, that with a single bit of will and a small dose of creation we can become anything else and nobody knows the difference. Just yesterday I met in person somebody I've only known over a website. He wasn't the way I imagined him looking, if i even imagined him looking like anything. He was always his country and his country's flag, nothing else. No doubt he closely associated me with Lobolia's wolf flag, and the name Lobolia. That is the height of amusement, and also rather poignant. If I hadn't gone to my friend's party yesterday, that wouldn't have happened, ever. Rather amusing, wouldn't you say?
So as you read this, (There is a point to my actually speaking to you as myself, not the Roman Wolf) remember something for me. Remember that there is a person behind every person you ever meet. There is a person behind the face at the check-out counter, the local hamburger pigoout joint, the annoying car that just won't drive ten miles over the speed limit.
Thank you
5.16.2007
America 2008? Poem
Skipping and Skipping
The puppets dance and skip
We all dance, we all watch
We all look at their hair
Watch the sound bytes
Why wait a year?
Eighteen months is good!
To scramble and spend spend spend!
After all, the elections almost here!
Hurry and hurry, get to the polls
We cannot wait, US Americans and all
We must vote vote vote. . .
But why come to the booth?
Voting's a waste of time,
I have celebrities to watch
Couldn't resist the quick spoof
Ta
Roman Wolf
The puppets dance and skip
We all dance, we all watch
We all look at their hair
Watch the sound bytes
Why wait a year?
Eighteen months is good!
To scramble and spend spend spend!
After all, the elections almost here!
Hurry and hurry, get to the polls
We cannot wait, US Americans and all
We must vote vote vote. . .
But why come to the booth?
Voting's a waste of time,
I have celebrities to watch
Couldn't resist the quick spoof
Ta
Roman Wolf
5.09.2007
Quick Chat of Congrats
Well well well
It seems I have the power to rant in Hindi. That would scare you all, wouldn't it? Maybe I should write this blog in Lobolian. That's Karla's language, she jokingly suggested it to me last night.
The good citizens of America have caught a new terrorist cell. Congratulations to the great DVD maker who realized that men shooting machine guns and calling for jihad could be a grave threat to our nation. Cudos also to the FBI for finally paying attention to bizzarre behavior. If only they realized a few years back that if a man wants to fly a plane but not land it he probably belongs to some very dangerous group of killers. Or else needs to find his way into a psycho ward until he picks up on the idea of gravity.
That'll settle my chat for today. I'll come back some other time, eh?
Lobolius
It seems I have the power to rant in Hindi. That would scare you all, wouldn't it? Maybe I should write this blog in Lobolian. That's Karla's language, she jokingly suggested it to me last night.
The good citizens of America have caught a new terrorist cell. Congratulations to the great DVD maker who realized that men shooting machine guns and calling for jihad could be a grave threat to our nation. Cudos also to the FBI for finally paying attention to bizzarre behavior. If only they realized a few years back that if a man wants to fly a plane but not land it he probably belongs to some very dangerous group of killers. Or else needs to find his way into a psycho ward until he picks up on the idea of gravity.
That'll settle my chat for today. I'll come back some other time, eh?
Lobolius
5.06.2007
Reaction to the 'Right'
After watching the Republican presidential debates, held, obviously in the shadow of Ronald, I can't say I was terribly impressed. Mitt Romney, whom everyone says was the most presidental, was too presidential, too polished, too eager to be a politican moving up into the spotlight. I like scrappy ones, they are the ones who can be counted on for loyalty to the public, at least for a little while. Then they too become polished and presidential, to the detriment of all. Nobody fit that image. They were all old white men playing the cards of old white men and eager to keep playing the cards of old white men from here to eternity. I have nothing specific against old white men. Socrates and Hippocrates have done a lot for us mere mortals. But still, at least among the Dems there's variety. We have boyish men, black men, women married to old white men, in addition to the standard fare of old white men.
So in that context, I cannot image how image gets a Republican politician anywhere. They all look basically the same. Among Democrats, well, I certainly see how they play up the woman vote.
Back to political matters. The libertarian Republican, I can't think up his name but he was an old white man, was a typical libertarian. Excellent theorectical hypothoses, trapped by practical fallacies. It is beliefs such as, "Yes I would get rid of the IRS. Taxes are only good for paying off cradle to grave care and policing the world." that keep me strictly a personal libertarian ranting on the web and not a political libertarian. Let's do a historical analysis of Mr. John Q Libertarian's tax theory.
No taxes. Excellent idea-just like during the Articles of Confederation Days. Look where that got us. Rebellion, drunk bachelors trying to take over the country, and no money to bind the union into anything but a bunch of cheery independant states celebrating glorious freedom by printing their own currency. No No NO NO NO!
Sure, who likes taxes.? Nobody! Who likes to drive? Everybody. Who likes to drive on overcrowded, potholed, rundown roads lined with crumbling bridges? Nobody. But who wants to buy smooth sleek roads through taxes? Nobody. When Libertarian politicians can propose a decent alternative that doesn't involve private ownership of roads (That could get out of hand, fast) I'll consider giving them by vote.
So in that context, I cannot image how image gets a Republican politician anywhere. They all look basically the same. Among Democrats, well, I certainly see how they play up the woman vote.
Back to political matters. The libertarian Republican, I can't think up his name but he was an old white man, was a typical libertarian. Excellent theorectical hypothoses, trapped by practical fallacies. It is beliefs such as, "Yes I would get rid of the IRS. Taxes are only good for paying off cradle to grave care and policing the world." that keep me strictly a personal libertarian ranting on the web and not a political libertarian. Let's do a historical analysis of Mr. John Q Libertarian's tax theory.
No taxes. Excellent idea-just like during the Articles of Confederation Days. Look where that got us. Rebellion, drunk bachelors trying to take over the country, and no money to bind the union into anything but a bunch of cheery independant states celebrating glorious freedom by printing their own currency. No No NO NO NO!
Sure, who likes taxes.? Nobody! Who likes to drive? Everybody. Who likes to drive on overcrowded, potholed, rundown roads lined with crumbling bridges? Nobody. But who wants to buy smooth sleek roads through taxes? Nobody. When Libertarian politicians can propose a decent alternative that doesn't involve private ownership of roads (That could get out of hand, fast) I'll consider giving them by vote.
4.19.2007
Not Much
Hello Lobolians
Not much to discuss today, but it seemed worthwhile to swing by and say hello. Now that I've done that, I'll just say good bye.
Ta
Roman Wolf
Not much to discuss today, but it seemed worthwhile to swing by and say hello. Now that I've done that, I'll just say good bye.
Ta
Roman Wolf
4.13.2007
Voltaire and the 1st
'I do not agree with a word you say, but will defend to the death your right to say it' Or something like that. Voltaire said it, but you can't ask him how it went, he died quite a while ago. Anyway, that's the gist of his quote, I think you all can get the picture. You people are smart, I hope.
Now to bring us to Don Imus. Should we defend to the death his right to say that the losers of a basketball game are "Nappy headed hoes?"
According to Voltaire, we don't need to agree that losing a basketball game makes you a glorified garden tool with nappy hair. I most definitely do not. Nor should you. If you agree with that assumption get off this blog and never return. You should know what I think of bigots like you. Now scram. You shouldn't even be able to reach this sentence. Are you gone yet?
It is jerks like Imus who make people like me, (blog writing Libertarians) absolutely pissed off because they only encourage those other third derivatives of position (jerks) to abridge the first amendment. It is that sin, more than anything else, for which he MUST be kicked off every blasted airway in this country. And the planet. And the universe while we are at it.
Those who speak openly, to many people, are required by sheer love of gods (God) and country and liberal democracy to watch their words and make sure nothing NOTHING that they say makes the ever aggravating communitarian's (Order and Equality above freedom) increasingly anxious to knock the first to the ground.
Everyone entrusted to speak to the masses must bear those things in mind. There are always going to be fools who don't think before they endanger the voices of all, but try not to join them. I hope I never do.
Roman Wolf
Now to bring us to Don Imus. Should we defend to the death his right to say that the losers of a basketball game are "Nappy headed hoes?"
According to Voltaire, we don't need to agree that losing a basketball game makes you a glorified garden tool with nappy hair. I most definitely do not. Nor should you. If you agree with that assumption get off this blog and never return. You should know what I think of bigots like you. Now scram. You shouldn't even be able to reach this sentence. Are you gone yet?
It is jerks like Imus who make people like me, (blog writing Libertarians) absolutely pissed off because they only encourage those other third derivatives of position (jerks) to abridge the first amendment. It is that sin, more than anything else, for which he MUST be kicked off every blasted airway in this country. And the planet. And the universe while we are at it.
Those who speak openly, to many people, are required by sheer love of gods (God) and country and liberal democracy to watch their words and make sure nothing NOTHING that they say makes the ever aggravating communitarian's (Order and Equality above freedom) increasingly anxious to knock the first to the ground.
Everyone entrusted to speak to the masses must bear those things in mind. There are always going to be fools who don't think before they endanger the voices of all, but try not to join them. I hope I never do.
Roman Wolf
4.12.2007
So it goes
Just wish to use a little bit of my power here on the Rant to honor one of my favorite authors of all time.
Kurt Vonnegut Jr, aged 84 at this point in the space time continuum died today.
His stories have delighted and saddened me ever since I first stumbled across his works last year. 'Getting my Vonnegut fix' is a common event for me whenever a visit a library.
If the Trafalmadorians are to be believed, and why shouldn't they be?, then whenever we look at a differant place in time, he will still be there, writing away. And as the author that he was, Vonnegut will always be speaking to his readers, amusing, terrifying them, saddening them with his darkly, cheerfully, moralizing fantasy novels. I know I will be one of those spoken to.
So it goes Mr Vonnegut. So it goes.
Roman Wolf
Kurt Vonnegut Jr, aged 84 at this point in the space time continuum died today.
His stories have delighted and saddened me ever since I first stumbled across his works last year. 'Getting my Vonnegut fix' is a common event for me whenever a visit a library.
If the Trafalmadorians are to be believed, and why shouldn't they be?, then whenever we look at a differant place in time, he will still be there, writing away. And as the author that he was, Vonnegut will always be speaking to his readers, amusing, terrifying them, saddening them with his darkly, cheerfully, moralizing fantasy novels. I know I will be one of those spoken to.
So it goes Mr Vonnegut. So it goes.
Roman Wolf
4.11.2007
Announcement
Hello Lobolians
Soon it seems that I will be teaming up with an old friend. Karla Rove, an old college buddy of mine has now joined the web and I've linked blogs with her, see below and go to the pygmyraptor one.
For those reading this after around May 11th you may be approaching this blog from the magazine site of Countess Karla Rove of Lobolia. Note the name.
Peace to thee.
Bees need the help of the entire world now. For those who haven't heard the 'buzz' bees are vanishing. Unexplainably. Beekeepers are losing their hives, and for them that's a beloved livelihood. For us, its apples on the table over lunch. For the farmers growing those apples, it's a travesty. For congress, it is yet another problem.
I'll leave you with that for tonight. Perhaps sometime soon I will make it over to the library and then I will give you a piece of my opinions on John McCain. For those of you noting the name Karla Rove when I told you to, be surprised. This is the libertarian, not the conservative. Oh that's right. You've already read it. Wow.
Lobolius
Soon it seems that I will be teaming up with an old friend. Karla Rove, an old college buddy of mine has now joined the web and I've linked blogs with her, see below and go to the pygmyraptor one.
For those reading this after around May 11th you may be approaching this blog from the magazine site of Countess Karla Rove of Lobolia. Note the name.
Peace to thee.
Bees need the help of the entire world now. For those who haven't heard the 'buzz' bees are vanishing. Unexplainably. Beekeepers are losing their hives, and for them that's a beloved livelihood. For us, its apples on the table over lunch. For the farmers growing those apples, it's a travesty. For congress, it is yet another problem.
I'll leave you with that for tonight. Perhaps sometime soon I will make it over to the library and then I will give you a piece of my opinions on John McCain. For those of you noting the name Karla Rove when I told you to, be surprised. This is the libertarian, not the conservative. Oh that's right. You've already read it. Wow.
Lobolius
3.31.2007
Scenes from the new Lib
Hello Lobolians
Once more I am here to talk with you from the library, but it is at a new location. This new library is huge, beautiful (at least from the inside) and filled with bright new things. I love the expanded computer terminals, the DVD selection is actually easy to follow and quick to grab, and the rows upon rows of books remain as tantalizing as ever. No new books today, the one I'm after is currently all checked out so I am number two for the holds. I got a couple DVD's a spectacular view of a pond and some evergreen trees, plus a power line. What could be more ideal?
It was hard waiting for the new library to open, but now that it is here, alle ist gut as the good folk from Deutschland say. Even the smell is fresh and pure, smells of recent construction are mixed with the happy book smells. What could make a better day?
Roman Wolf
(Isn't it lovely sometimes to have happy thoughts mingle among the gloom and doom that normally hits my mind as I sit down here? I am loving it!)
Once more I am here to talk with you from the library, but it is at a new location. This new library is huge, beautiful (at least from the inside) and filled with bright new things. I love the expanded computer terminals, the DVD selection is actually easy to follow and quick to grab, and the rows upon rows of books remain as tantalizing as ever. No new books today, the one I'm after is currently all checked out so I am number two for the holds. I got a couple DVD's a spectacular view of a pond and some evergreen trees, plus a power line. What could be more ideal?
It was hard waiting for the new library to open, but now that it is here, alle ist gut as the good folk from Deutschland say. Even the smell is fresh and pure, smells of recent construction are mixed with the happy book smells. What could make a better day?
Roman Wolf
(Isn't it lovely sometimes to have happy thoughts mingle among the gloom and doom that normally hits my mind as I sit down here? I am loving it!)
3.20.2007
Another Fireside Chat
So.
I'm Back.
What's the point of mentioning the war today, so what that it is the anniversary. There has been many of those and there will be many more.
Or maybe I should, but no, I won't be the one talking. I'll put my words in another's mouth and let him do all the talking. So let's return to the campfire where we still find the nameless young boy and his mom.
"Mommy, why are there all those boots just sitting around in that picture?"
"Because they died. There is a war going on son, and unfortunately, people die in wars."
"Oh. So if people can get killed, why do we go to war then?'
"Sometimes bad things have to happen, otherwise worse things will. War is one of those things. But you are too young kid to worry about them. War is a grown up problem."
"But Jimmy's dad, he's at war. Will Jimmy's dad die?"
"No, no. Of course not. Jimmy's dad will come home and we can go over there for a barbecue. How does that sound?"
"It sounds like fun. Maybe I'll bring my truck and Jimmy and I can play in his backyard. Jimmy has a fun backyard, doesn't he mom?"
Let Jimmy's dad come home. Light a candle, pray, whatever. Jimmy may not exist beyond this page, but he lives anyway and no doubt he misses his dad. Everyone deserves to return home and return home safe and sound. Not only that, but we better make damn sure that when they do, we don't just throw them to the lions at hospitals or anything. This is a greater country than that!
Lobolius
I'm Back.
What's the point of mentioning the war today, so what that it is the anniversary. There has been many of those and there will be many more.
Or maybe I should, but no, I won't be the one talking. I'll put my words in another's mouth and let him do all the talking. So let's return to the campfire where we still find the nameless young boy and his mom.
"Mommy, why are there all those boots just sitting around in that picture?"
"Because they died. There is a war going on son, and unfortunately, people die in wars."
"Oh. So if people can get killed, why do we go to war then?'
"Sometimes bad things have to happen, otherwise worse things will. War is one of those things. But you are too young kid to worry about them. War is a grown up problem."
"But Jimmy's dad, he's at war. Will Jimmy's dad die?"
"No, no. Of course not. Jimmy's dad will come home and we can go over there for a barbecue. How does that sound?"
"It sounds like fun. Maybe I'll bring my truck and Jimmy and I can play in his backyard. Jimmy has a fun backyard, doesn't he mom?"
Let Jimmy's dad come home. Light a candle, pray, whatever. Jimmy may not exist beyond this page, but he lives anyway and no doubt he misses his dad. Everyone deserves to return home and return home safe and sound. Not only that, but we better make damn sure that when they do, we don't just throw them to the lions at hospitals or anything. This is a greater country than that!
Lobolius
2.08.2007
Skin
Hey.
Sorry to be neglecting you, my Lobolians, but as you all know, the press of life runs and chatters on indefinately, with little time to stop and allow gentle reflections in front of a computer screen. I know I have given that excuse before, but that is because it is a primary reason, not an excuse.
What should I discuss with you this fine afternoon? Just this morning many thoughts flittered through my head, asking to be blogged, and now I must decide on a topic to entertain my guests of the web.
Skin. Now there's a thing that we give so much power to, and as with all power, it needs to be disected and scrutinized regularly. (Just a side note-I came up with this topic after reading Kurt Vonnegut's novel thing Breakfast of Champions. A fascinating read, I recommend a bit of Vonnegut regularly for all. They are terrific reads.)
What the heck is it about skin color that makes people so darned obsessive? I have white skin, you have black skin, they have copper skin, he has red skin, she has yellow skin, why do martians have green skin mommy? Once you remove the skin, people are the SAME. We all have muscle. We all have bone. We all bleed when our skin gets ripped off of us. So why do we have to pay so much attention to the separator?
Part of the problem, no doubt, is the strange need some people have to become an individual first and foremost by declaring what it is they are not. I am not black skinned, I am not a Catholic, I am not an Irishman. Just for the record, I am none of those things either, but I do not define myself by them. There is just too much that I am not. I am not from Venus, Mercury, Jupiter, Mars, 51 Pegasi, Saturn, Gandymede, Titan, Pluto, Charon, Neputne, Tritan, or any of the astroids in the solar system, or Sirius' solar system, or any other solar system.
How hard is all that to say, and there are still lots and lots of places I am not from. Why not simply say I am from Earth? That narrows down many things, with one simple four word phrase. Much much simpler.
Why can't we all just say we are from Earth? Earth is, after all, a lovely little blue gem of a planet, filled with water, land, clouds, sea lions, and people. It is inhabited by a species demonstrating extraordinary abilities to discover things, both inside of ourselves and out. To find new sciences, love God or gods, make medicines capable of healing our ills, pain, sorrow. Why can't this species, these beings who declare themselves wise man, homo sapien, learn to understand what lies beneath? How many have to suffer under the cruelest of our creations, gas chambers, guns, lies, hate, before we learn our lesson. This month is intended to honor a race of humans subjected to tyranny of hatred, and a day of our solar year is going to be set aside to remember a man who defied his skin, while still loving it. Love yours, love the skin of whoever is sitting next to you, love the skin of humanity.
Roman Wolf
(Well worth waiting for, eh?)
Sorry to be neglecting you, my Lobolians, but as you all know, the press of life runs and chatters on indefinately, with little time to stop and allow gentle reflections in front of a computer screen. I know I have given that excuse before, but that is because it is a primary reason, not an excuse.
What should I discuss with you this fine afternoon? Just this morning many thoughts flittered through my head, asking to be blogged, and now I must decide on a topic to entertain my guests of the web.
Skin. Now there's a thing that we give so much power to, and as with all power, it needs to be disected and scrutinized regularly. (Just a side note-I came up with this topic after reading Kurt Vonnegut's novel thing Breakfast of Champions. A fascinating read, I recommend a bit of Vonnegut regularly for all. They are terrific reads.)
What the heck is it about skin color that makes people so darned obsessive? I have white skin, you have black skin, they have copper skin, he has red skin, she has yellow skin, why do martians have green skin mommy? Once you remove the skin, people are the SAME. We all have muscle. We all have bone. We all bleed when our skin gets ripped off of us. So why do we have to pay so much attention to the separator?
Part of the problem, no doubt, is the strange need some people have to become an individual first and foremost by declaring what it is they are not. I am not black skinned, I am not a Catholic, I am not an Irishman. Just for the record, I am none of those things either, but I do not define myself by them. There is just too much that I am not. I am not from Venus, Mercury, Jupiter, Mars, 51 Pegasi, Saturn, Gandymede, Titan, Pluto, Charon, Neputne, Tritan, or any of the astroids in the solar system, or Sirius' solar system, or any other solar system.
How hard is all that to say, and there are still lots and lots of places I am not from. Why not simply say I am from Earth? That narrows down many things, with one simple four word phrase. Much much simpler.
Why can't we all just say we are from Earth? Earth is, after all, a lovely little blue gem of a planet, filled with water, land, clouds, sea lions, and people. It is inhabited by a species demonstrating extraordinary abilities to discover things, both inside of ourselves and out. To find new sciences, love God or gods, make medicines capable of healing our ills, pain, sorrow. Why can't this species, these beings who declare themselves wise man, homo sapien, learn to understand what lies beneath? How many have to suffer under the cruelest of our creations, gas chambers, guns, lies, hate, before we learn our lesson. This month is intended to honor a race of humans subjected to tyranny of hatred, and a day of our solar year is going to be set aside to remember a man who defied his skin, while still loving it. Love yours, love the skin of whoever is sitting next to you, love the skin of humanity.
Roman Wolf
(Well worth waiting for, eh?)
1.23.2007
The Post Cyber Age
Hello Lobolians
I sincerely unleash my regrets that I haven't spoken with you for so long, but life beckons to one such as I with a pull as hard as any the cyber world can unfurl.
Do you ever wonder what would happen to our world as we know it if a nuclear bomb did go off and all the electronic things we know and rely upon for a second home, a portal to worlds unseen by our unscreened eyes, were to vanish? I was thinking about that this morning. Almost an entire year of sitting down at a computer, typing about what was happening, what might come to our world, all that would be gone. And this is just a small site, but I love it. Imagine a world where google was dead and nothing but a very large number again. Imagine if there was no such place as youtube, or myspace, and all the things we were ever to see were those that we could reach and view in the outside world.
What would this era be called then? All signs of the electronic age would be gone. Would we become the latter dark ages, and the curiosity of future anthropologists? They would wonder about us, what we thought, what we did. They would know, no doubt, why it had happened. Would that spur people to have hard copies of their data for ten, twenty years, or a century? Then no doubt, knowing humanity's short attention span, the idea of storing everything onto a computer would fall again into fashion and maybe this time they will invent computers that could work without crashing and an internet faster than dial up for all. After all, if the world must spin on for all eternity of this multiverse, we may as well hope it spins upward and for the better. Otherwise we face nothing but our own repetitive doom, again and again.
Roman Wolf
I sincerely unleash my regrets that I haven't spoken with you for so long, but life beckons to one such as I with a pull as hard as any the cyber world can unfurl.
Do you ever wonder what would happen to our world as we know it if a nuclear bomb did go off and all the electronic things we know and rely upon for a second home, a portal to worlds unseen by our unscreened eyes, were to vanish? I was thinking about that this morning. Almost an entire year of sitting down at a computer, typing about what was happening, what might come to our world, all that would be gone. And this is just a small site, but I love it. Imagine a world where google was dead and nothing but a very large number again. Imagine if there was no such place as youtube, or myspace, and all the things we were ever to see were those that we could reach and view in the outside world.
What would this era be called then? All signs of the electronic age would be gone. Would we become the latter dark ages, and the curiosity of future anthropologists? They would wonder about us, what we thought, what we did. They would know, no doubt, why it had happened. Would that spur people to have hard copies of their data for ten, twenty years, or a century? Then no doubt, knowing humanity's short attention span, the idea of storing everything onto a computer would fall again into fashion and maybe this time they will invent computers that could work without crashing and an internet faster than dial up for all. After all, if the world must spin on for all eternity of this multiverse, we may as well hope it spins upward and for the better. Otherwise we face nothing but our own repetitive doom, again and again.
Roman Wolf
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Lobolius, The Roman Wolf
- Lobolius
- Long ago a wolf did howl in the day, as a river flowed and the ocean called. But the wolf lay down by another shore, and then became a tree.
