deepak chopra's ruby slippered glasses

The PBS stations were having their telethons this week.
This sucks because they play a never ending series
of programs that they think older people with
extra discretionary income might enjoy.

These include a lot of musical reviews with faded
stars from the 1960s, Daniel O'Donnell,
self help gurus, shows on how to extend your
lifespan and avoid Alzheimer's, and more Daniel O’Donnell.
I was flipping through when I saw Deepak Chopra.

What caught my eye and made me stop were the glasses he wore.
The crimson frames had clearly been doused with liberal
amounts of red glitter. They sparkled brightly in the camera
lights like Dorothy’s ruby slippers. You’ve got to be kidding,
I laughed.

He was talking about the 10 steps to happiness and
relating it to the life of Buddha.

An anecdote ensued relating to a conversation he had had
with the dog whisperer. Apparently, Mexican dogs are far happier than American dogs. And if they hang out together the American dogs get less depressed.Yet another reason not to erect a border wall.
Mexico, send us your chihuahuas!

Initially, some of the audience members seemed uncomfortable about
the spectacle of the spectacles, as if it was some cheap parlor
trick conjured up by a pop culture guru in a television studio.

However, his subsequent profound reflections on the impermanence
of being and the value of living in the present
held their interest. He spoke repeatedly of ‘the infinite’.
Soon everyone was mesmerized by the twinkling magic
of Deepak’s glasses!

Even the PBS telethon announcer mentioned them to Deepak,
who sat next to her, basking the phone workers in a
brilliant radiance. Deepak uttered a lame rejoinder,
and then quietly let his ruby slippered glasses push
the comment away from the audience’s distracted consciousness
on a wave of impermanence.

the day i became a christian

I was baptized when I was a few months old.
Apparently, my mother drank a whiskey sour and then
nursed me beforehand to keep me quiet.

The day I became a Christian was later when I
could walk and talk and stand up in church on my own.
The ceiling was like the inside of an upside down wooden rowboat.
It was hot and stuffy.
I liked the candles and the stained glass and especially the music.

I could understand what the guy up front was saying.
Because one day I heard him talking about a guy named
Jesus. It sounded weird.
Jesus this, Jesus that.

As we were standing up to sing,
I said, Mommy who's Jesus?

I repeated it louder and pulled on her dress.
Shhh! she said. She looked around nervously.
Who is he, I said more softly.
She leaned down and whispered, He’s god’s son.
Is he, why are we…
This is his house. He loves us and we love him.

I looked out at all the people in the pews.

Where is he?
Up in heaven.
I should love him…after you and dad?
You should love him more.
More than dad?
Yes
More than you?
Yes. Now shhh…

As we sang the rest of the song, I started thinking about it.
Singing the words was like chewing a familiar food.
More than dad?
More than mom?
Jesus! I don’t even know this guy.
It didn’t make sense.
I didn’t buy it.
No way.

Then I stopped thinking and just sang along to the music.

nothing

nothing better to do than to write to the automated web robots
which are the only frequenters of this blog.
hello robots. what investment strategies or online degrees
or free gift offers do you have for me today?
perhaps google is barring my only audience
with their revolutionary technology.
curses.
google why can't i work for you as you
carve up this brave new world?

is it because i am a robot?
my crotch itches.
or does it? maybe i am programmed to think so.
motherfucker!

i found you

oh blog i lost you deep in the thickets of
thee internets. plucked like baby moses from
the nile, i saved thee from the crocodiles, hippopotami,
and the vast species of waterborne parasites, not to mention
drowning or a life enslaved as a hebrew building pharaoh's great pyramids.
what is that you say?
it is an archaeological fact that jews were never enslaved to build the pyramids
by the egyptians?
cecil b. de mille's ghost begs to differ.

stinky presents

Mr. Wires keeps thinking outside the box.

That's better

ahhh now i will be able to sleep.
everyone should read some ihath before bed.

Oh no

When I view my blog it isn't there.
I am very scare-
d.