The Facts, Sad To Say

It seems that I only get around to publish something in this every oh, year or so. It's not that I am busy, heck I've been retired for ten years. No, the sad fact is that I am just lazy. Lot's of hot ideas ruminating in my brain but no ambition to put pen to paper.

Let me tell you a few things about my sad life:

I am living proof that Indians really did screw buffaloes. I had a job once breeding exotic fish but everytime I got in the tank all the water slooshed out. I was a professional song listener once but who knew that the Hollies weren't singing about a long cool woman in a flack vest? Or the Beatles weren't saying Pay For My Chrysler (only John would want to be a Paperback Writer, the sneaky snood)? I thought that Creedence Clearwater Revival was singing about a bathroom on the right. I used to be a professional at quite a few things but since I wasn't very good at them, for a time I was a professional non-eater. I wrote a screenplay for My Fair Lady after the movie came out. The studio head told me that it was almost word for word the same script as the movie. I guess I must have misspelled some words. And why hasn't someone with half a brain in his head filmed Gilgamesh? Ollie Stone could do wonders with that one, right Clay Shaw? I wet my pants on stage at my attempt at stand up. That was five years ago, and I still have the pants. The stain is still there so I only wear them a night, in a dark club. I have a terrible gag relex so there goes being a vampire or gay. I want to write something to scream I am alive and to make Ms Huffington swoon over me and say her blog could not possibly go on one more single day without me on staff.

The sad facts are that this is the only place that I will ever get anything published and no one but my wife reads it (do not think I didn't recognize your style even under those aliases). But, then again, even if I were to be popular, and witty and charming, I'm still too lazy to write anything more than once a year.

Toodles, and, see you on the other side!

Like AC/DC...Back In Black

Thought I was dead? Nope. Thought I had nothing more to say? Nope. Been gone a long time. Perhaps it was laziness. Yeah, I think that was what it was. Let's try to get back in the swing of things.

I can't say that I'm shocked that no one reads this but a few of my friends. After all, I've never said anything profound. However, even in just surfing by, you would think that someone would stop by and tell me that my writing is juvenile and not worth the time. When I go to someone else's blog I try to be nice and say something. I thought that that was what this whole blog thing was about. I have tried to be comedic in my approach and try to make you think at times. I guess that style just was not working. I am sorry for that. I am not sorry for myself. Eventually, you may come across this blog. If you don't like it, say so. I can't fix what I don't know is broken. Enough of the preamble crying! On with the show!

The new politician

As anyone who has bothered to read my blogs, I have absolutely nothing for politicians. As Will Rodgers once famously intoned: "We have the best politicians that money can buy." Oh boy, is that putting the biscuit in the basket!

But, what does it take to be a modern politician? Well, first of all you must divest yourself of all of your principals, if you had any to begin with. You won't need them and they would just get in the way of your negotiations with lobbyists. Oh, wait a minute, that is not new, that's old!

Okay, then you must depend only on which way the wind is blowing to state your positions. Do not by any means have an honest position, remember you must only thing about your re-election, that is the only way to extend your deals with lobbyists. To have an honest position will only bring you scorn by your fellow crooked politicians and may make you a outcast. Oh my, could that be a continuing policy? Why, yes, I think that it is! So far this is sounding awfully cynical.

Money, money, money. That is all that you must think about. More money for your campaign,
more money for your golden years, more money period. You should try to court to the big money corporations and big money donors and ignore the people you represent because they can't do anything for you. You've got a safe district, the people don't know that your just an empty suit, an empty desk. But you have to look good! You got to get that look about you, oozing success and confidence! Voters don't care about your record, if you bother to compile one. Judicial Watch can rant about you, it doesn't matter. No one back home reads it!
Oops, again you've stumbled onto an established stragety.

Be insincere. Insincerely is the coin of the realm for a politician. You don't have to tell the truth, no one expects to tell the truth. It is not a job requirement. Stick with what works. Demonize the other party, what the heck, they are doing the same to you. What does it matter, neither party is different from the other! If your a crook, stay a crook. If your not, why are you a pol in the first place, go back to law school and learn how to be one.

Get religion, fast. This country is overrun with fundamentalist waiting for the rapture. You need to persuade (that actual job of a polititian) that your a God fearing man. You better fear God or this guys will have your cojones. Pepper your speeches with at least 15 references to God and relate your story of how you once were a sinner but now you are found. A guarented winner!

Old Boss, same as the New Boss

Well, it seems that really nothing, or no one can be called modern in the political game. Why write this? I don't know, boredom, anger, my Wii is too hot to play? I dunno, you pick one, I'm going to bed.

Ta Ta, and see you on the other side.

It's Been A Long Time

Well, it has been a loooooong time since I last posted. What have I been doing, you might ask if you were in fact reading this commentary. Well, since you didn't ask (or read) I'll tell you anyway.

Poker. That's right the craze that has swept the nation undertowed me too. However, I have been on the other side of the table, dealing. Yes, I have been dealing Texas Hold'em. Working for charities. Fleecing the willing, as it were.

That, however is not the subject of this diatribe. Let's browse the recent political headlines, shall we?

Dennis Hastert can not recall any conversation that he had with a fellow representative who informed Mr. Speaker of the House that Rep. Foley was fooling around with the House Pages. Well, Dennis I don't think that they were talking about the Yellow Pages. It seems strange that you have that memory loss thing going for you. I don't think it will hold up, but....

President Bush is looking for new directions for the war in Iraq. Here's one, George, west. As in, bring the troops back home. I never thought it was a bad idea to get rid of Saddam Husein, but, if we are going after all of the meglomad politicians of the world don't you think your seat is getting hot? There isn't much more we are going to accomplish in Iraq anymore, except kill more of us guys. I'm not ready to scream isolationism, but bring the troops home. Trust me, it won't hurt your macho image one bit.

Read an facinating book, Puppetmaster, by Richard Hack. It is about the "secret life of J. Edgar Hoover." While it didn't cover much ground that I had not already read it did have one "fact" that jumped off the page and slapped me in the jib. Which American President was a member in good standing in the Ku Klux Klan? According to Mr Hack it was Warren G. Harding. Not only that, but good 'ol Warren was sworn in inside the Green Room in the White House. I was't even cognizant that there was a Green Room! While I don't doubt Mr Hack's research skills, this truly is not a story I learned in pre-school, kindergarten, elementry school, high school or college. Was this a plot, a coverup? If anyone else learned this in school, would you please let me know? Though I am a history buff, this one got past me.

National note: Jeffrey Skilling sentenced to 24 years. I assume that the "at hard labor" tag is no longer applied. Come on, guys, Jeff was just trying to look after his family. What? He doesn't have a family? He will soon. Poor Jeff, Kenny Boy (Pres. Bush's name for Kenneth Lay) died so he had to take the brunt alone. Maybe, he would have only recieved 12 years if Mr Lay were alive. I mean, gosh, he only stole about 60 million. The government spends that much everyday on soap! I think a small fine would have been more applicable. Then again, maybe not. Anyway, bon voyage, Jeff. Say hello to Bubba for me and you know who I mean, don't you?

Enough meandering for today.

Ta-ta and see you on the other side.

The Death of A Devil

It has been sometime since I last posted to this blog. Either I have been very lazy (a theory that PZ subscribes to) or, I just haven't had anything worthwhile to say. However, on this day that reports the fact that Abu al- Zarqawi has been killed, I must speak out.

I have no love for the assassins that populate the Middle East. Violence in the name of "religion" is murder of the highest order. Christian history is also rift with this same concept. No surprise, most religions have been born out of blood. My opinion only. Unadorned with apologies.

al-Zarqawi was a devil. I am fully aware that it is a religious term, however, no other description could possibly apply. How could a murderous beast such as this sleep at night? How could he walk about, breathe my precious air? Being blown to bits was not enough for even now the vermins DNA still rests at that spot.

I have no argument with those that wish to believe in supernatural deities. If that is what blows your skirt up, go ahead on. I do have a problem with those who wish impose their "religion" on me, be it Muslim, Catholic, Christian or Hebrew. The silliness of the concept that "God" wills the death of "infidels" would be laughable if it wasn't for the fact that this idiots believe and practise this insane doctrine.

Are we innocents in the world? No, for we have stuck our noses into many briar patches and perhaps we deserve the thorns we get. There is no nation on earth that does not. Ethnic cleansing. Skin color. Religion. Politics. Take your pick. All are excuses to kill one another. And damned puny excuses at that.

I'm certain that George Bush is savoring the poll numbers he will get from this. I am certain that in some Iraqi circles the death of this beast is being, quietly, celebrated. This piece of filth has a long criminal record in his homeland of Jordan. If he wouldn't be killing Americans and Iraqis he would be raping and killing Jordanians. This is a religious man? If he be that, then I am glad that I am not.

al-Zarqawi should rot in hell, if there is such a place. Some would argue that this is hell. People like al-Zarqawi made it so.

How many virgins are caressing his blown to bits body? It will take more than the alloted seven, I'll tell you that.

Sorry, no comedy today, other than the Human Comedy at work again.

ta-ta and see al-Zarqawi on the other side.

Lessons I have Learned In Life

As I now approach my 6th decade I must comment on the lessons that life has taught me. Sadly, they are few as I suspect that there are still many more to learn.

If there is one thing that I have learned from life, it's that I'm not as tall as I thought I was. While I am actually closer to 5'7", and have been so since I was 14, somehow, jeez I don't know where, but I got the mistaken idea that I was closer to 5'10". I once had a partner that was 5'10" and I couldn't understand why she would say that she was shorter than 6'4".

I learned that there may be aliens watching us, but I sure hope they don't gauge our culture by listening to our music. Aliens! Don't invade! Gangsta rap is not the official music of our world! Though the thought of taking out New York City has it's appeal.

I have learned that to cut the grass is useless. The grass just grows back again, and sometimes thicker. I don't shovel snow for much the same reasons. Ditto on leaves. That shouldn't come as any surprise.

Okay, you got me. I'm really Anonymous, you know, all those jokes, poems, sayings that attributed to Anonymous? Me. I wanted to take that to my grave but the temptation was too great not to reveal this. If Mark Felt can be Deep Throat (and Linda Lovelace had a good lawsuit on this one is she wanted to persue it) then I can own up to being Anonymous. Just insert my name in place of.

I learned that death is Nature's way of telling us to slow down. Nasty, but effective.

The grass is always greener on the otherside. But I'm not complaining about that, it's been plenty green on my side throughtout my life.

I learned that sometimes after the horse bucks you off, you have to get up, dust yourself off and go to the house for a rest. I rest gooder than I do anything else. Just ask the love of my life, PZ, she will attest to that, and in writing if you want it.

I learned that I am insane but not insane enought to warrant a stay in the fruit house. Enough so I have to take the medication for it, but not violent. I think. You know how medication is, first you take it and the next thing you know you are in the pokey, wondering, "How the heck did I get in here?"

Politics is fun, but politicians are not. Unless they open their mouths to say something. Then they become fun incarnate. I'll miss that. But not by much.

I learned that in order to have yourself heard you have to talk soft. Many, many, many times if it is too soft. See above.

These are just some of the things I have learned. When I can remember, I will tell you the rest later.

ta-ta from the otherside!

What Would Grampa Think Now??

Before I begin this screed, I would like to say this. I believe that my parents did as best they could in raising three kids with what little they had. I don't agree with the way they did it but I do think that they still did the best they could.


When I was birthed the Doctor could not find the owners manual. Ah, but there was Doctor Spock, who probably ruined millions of mothers who could not bring up a good child. We didn't have the money to buy this book nor did we have a library card to rent the book. Otherwise, I might be writing this blog on some prison barge somewhere in the New York harbor.


But then, I digress.Young love in those days begat old superstition on child rearing. (If you said that term in my neighborhood they would be talking about the colt in the barn that kept jumping up, not that wet, smelly ectoplasm in the next room.

My father was from Mt. Pleasant, Michigan and my mother was from around Seminole, Oklahoma. He was a mature 19, she a mature 14. Dad was in the Army and I have no idea where they met but future actions led me to assume that it wasn't in church.
So sometime during this "romance" my mother got pregnant.

Grandma, back in Michigan did not approve even to the point of telling her son, "You don't have to marry her! Just come back to Michigan." My father, being strong and resolute went back to Oklahoma to elope with my mother so that no one knew until she as a more respectable 15.

My father was a strict discplinarian. My mother believed in strict discipline. My youngest brother was a snitch par excellance! And so was my sister, but she only seemed parttime, it was my brother who brought the bacon.

My parents believed on coporal punishment or at least until it became apparent that then belt wouldn't work much anymore and that was when the mental punishment started. This I endured until even after I left the nest, graduated high school and was going to college. These leave different kinds of scars.

But you know what, even during all those years of belittlment, flying belts and other tortures invented by and for parents, I know that I never once, wanted to kill my family.

Yet this, "allegedly abuse boy" in New Mexico, Cody Posey who felt he had no other options but to murder his father, he stepmother and his stepsister and then tried to hide the bodies in a pile of manure. The finally indignity. His defense? Parental abuse!

So, let me get this straight. This is a boy who claimed he was being abused. This was a boy that when he was loading the gun made sure that it did not have "snakeshot" in the chambers of the gun, only live rounds. Then he shot his stepmother, who was seen to slap him once, because she would have called 911. Then he shot his stepsister, the little snitch, because she would tell on what he did and then he shot his father. The father, it seems was the source of his anger, so, it only makes sense to kill them all.

Even more incredible he tried to interject that he father and stepmother tried to get him to have sex with the stepmother on the night before. Excuse me if I find this totatly ubserd. The Defense states that young boys do not talk about this things unless they were true. What world does this goof live on? Young boys brag about these unseemly things, making them up if they had to.

I sorry that I don't live in New Mexico and was on this jury. Oh, boy, would I have some fun. My first question to my fellow jurists would be this, if there were more people in the house at the time of the murders, would he murder them too so that they wouldn't snitch him out too. He shot his sister so she wouldn't snitch and get him caught. But he got caught anyway. Did his stepsister did for nothing?

Ta-ta tell I see you on the other side!

Hamas? Hamas?

It wasn't that we could have seen it coming. I suppose the signs were all there. But, geez, Hamas? Voting in Hamas would be like voting in David Dukes for President. In the Palestinian parliament you now have Hamas with 76 seats and 43 seats for Fatah. Ok, this is like apples and oranges. Both parties have their roots in terrorism. Both organizations have never, nor will they ever, renounce terrorism as a basis for their existence.

But, this may work out. Maybe, ( a boy could dream), they would knock each other off. Yeah, I can see it now. Hamas killers riding around in 1920's vintage cars with machinegunners hanging out of the windows, spraying lead at any Fatah they happen to see on the streets. Then, in retaliation, Fatah supporters blowing up Hamas stores. Oh, boy! Democracy in the Middle East means who can kill who faster.

Perhaps they will have to import other groups to provide outside terrorism. Think the IRA or the Tamil Tigers are available? Lets see:

Fatah Member of Parliament: Hello? (Silence) Hello, is there anyone on the other side of the telephone call?
IRA Member: How did you get this number?
Fatah: Ah, Frank gave it to me.
IRA: Frank? Which Frank?
Fatah: You know which Frank, it's the only Frank you got working in Palestine.
IRA: Oh, that Frank. Okay! What can I do for you?
Fatah: Well, I'm calling to see if I can't get a little terror around here.
IRA: What, you don't have enough terror around there as it is?
Fatah: Well, yes but that terror is directed towards Israel. I need some directed ahh...elsewhere.
IRA: Humm. I take it this "elsewhere" would be somewhere in your neck of the woods?
Fatah: Yes.
IRA: Okay, can do. Where do you want the terror sent?
Fatah: I want you to blow the Parliament up.
IRA: Wait a minute I got to find a pencil and a piece of paper. (The sound of rummaging in the backround. A faint call is heard {Nell? Where did you put the paper and pencil? I know we've got some, I put the schematic of Dublin police station on it. Where? Ok, I found it.}) Still there?
Fatah: Still here. As I said I want to to blow up the Parliament.
IRA: Okay, when?
Fatah: Would Tuesday be too soon?
IRA: Nah, Tuesdays' good for us. What time are you thinking of?
Fatah: Around 2 or so.
IRA: Okay, ah, isn't Parliament in session then?
Fatah: Oh, most certainly. I want you to blow it up when everybody is sitting down drinking Turkish tea.
IRA: But...won't your guys be there too? Won't they get blown up too?
Fatah: Don't worry about that, they are expendable, after all that is what terror is all about!
IRA: Hey, it's your party and I don't say that in a political sense. We'll be there on Tuesday next, you got the explosives? You know it's a bear trying to get it on the plane these days.
Fatah: Don't I know it, those Al Qeada punks really put the kabash on that. It's okay though, we got tons of explosives left over from Arafat, all you need.
IRA: Okay, let me mark this down on my calendar..ahh, wait, Tuesdays' no good, we're bombing the snot out of the London subway on that day. But I got an opening on Thursday. Is Thursday good for you?
Fatah: No sweat, Thursdays' good.
IRA: Okay, then. See you then and would you do a favor for me?
Fatah: Most certainly.
IRA: Tell Frank I said hello and that if he gives out this number again I'll have him blown up too.
Fatah: Hey, I got some contacts with the Tamil Tigers. I could take care of that for you.
IRA: Don't you guys do that anymore?
Fatah: Heck no, we're politicians now.

In the Middle East,there's nothing like bringing in a little terror to brighten up your life.


Ta-ta, and tuck the kiddies in for me, will ya?

Whew! Big Day For George, Huh?

Wow, what a big day for George! According to the New York Times at a "hastily called news conference", President Bush stated that photographs (ahh, that would be plural) taken with disgraced lobboyist Jack Abramoff were not "relevant". I guess my question would be, not relevant to who?

Of course the photos are not relevant to the president. Of course they are not relevant to Jack Abramoff. However, I do believe that they are relevant to the Congressional investigators. I even think, silly me, that they are relevant to the American people.

George, who I think was elected by the people, (I can't remember, are the people in Red states or Blue states?) stated that he has had his photograph taken with "thousands of people that come through and get their pictures taken." Hmmm. I'll have to go through my junk file to find mine. Acutally, let's examine that statement a little closer. The president said that there were thousands who came through and got their pictures taken. Now, help me out Bill Clinton, but if I read that right, he never said that they got their pictures taken with him.

The president went on to say that "having my picture taken with someone doesn't mean that, you know, I'm a friend with them or know them very well. I've had my picture taken with you (meaning the reporters) at holiday parties." My invitation probably got lost in the mail.

The problem with this statement is that he implies that everyone is invited to these parties and that everyone comes with a camera to take these pictures. I guess the security at the White House is a little looser then at the airport. How many lobbyists get invited to the White House for parties. Well, I know of at least one.

The White House (which is, last time I looked, the official residence of the president, George Bush) officials have said that Mr Abramoff also attended some "staff level" mettings at the White House. Perhaps it is just me, but I'd like to know what these "staff level meetings" consisted of and what was discussed. How many lobbyists are allowed at White House "staff level" meetings, anyway? Wellll, I know of at least one. Let's envision one:

Staff Member (oh, let's just pick one, say, Condi Rice): Okay, let's talk about North Korea. Anybody got any good ideas on what we are going to do with this jerk?
General: I think we should bomb the snot out of him.
Condi (Secretary of State): Well, that's a little extreme don't you think? Who else agrees with this, hands? (Jack's hand go up, waving) Jack?
Jack Abramoff (lobbyist): Oh, I agree wholeheartedly with the generals' assessment. Bomb the snot of out him.
Condi (looking a little confused): Well, Jack, we've talked about this before, but tell me again, why you think that.
Jack: I have one word for you, Condi, and that word is, Lawrence Livermore Labs.
Condi: Actually Jack, that is three words.
Jack: Sorry, I just thought that if I said Livermore you wouldn't know what I was talking about.
Condi: Jack, before I took this job I was the National Security Advisor, remember?
Jack: Yeah, I forgot about that, I got you confused with George. Anyway, I got a phone call from the director down there and he said that the warehouse is getting overcrowded with bombs. He asked me to see if we could find a country to bomb the snotout of to, like, relieve the overcrowding.
Condi: Oh, okay. What do you other guys think?
Donald Rumsford (Secretary of Defense): I'm all for it. We didn't get a chance to use up our stockpile of bombs on Iraq, cowards quit too soon. Bomb the snot out of North Korea.
Dick Cheney (Vice President of the United States):
Condi Rice: Thanks for that input, Dick. Mr President, your thoughts?
George Bush (President of the United States): Ahh, actually, I'm not here. Dick told me to come down here to the Strategy Room. Shucks, I never even knew this room existed. Nice design. Nope, I'm not here in any official capacity whatsoever.
Jack Abramoff: Whoa, "capacity", where did you get that big word, GW?
George Bush: Laura.
Condi Rice: Whatever, look let's get a vote down on this. All in favor raise your hands. (All hands in the air). Okay, let's get it done. Jack, call Livermore and tell them it's a go, okay?
Jack Abramoff: I'll get on it first thing after I contact the Indians.
Condi Rice: Why do you have to contact the Indians?
Jack Abramoff: Got to squeeze so more money out of them, big vote today on the House floor, got to grease some palms, you know, guy stuff.
Condi Rice: Oh, okay. Well if no one else has anything...
George Bush: See, Laura was talking about our sex life and she used the word capacity...
Condi Rice: Give it a rest, George, we went by that already.

Now, of course that meeting never took place. Or did it?

Ta-ta and say hello to Broadway!

Ethicists In Love

Reading the Christian Science Monitor, my Muskegon, Michigan hometown newspaper, I found an article on the difference between a bribe and a donation. Of course we are talking about my favorite species, politicians. The article stated that the Congressional Rules cap non-campaign related gifts to $50.00 per item and $100.00 per year from any individual, including lunches or other meals. This is where if you could see me I would roll my eyes and there would be dead silence. Like the kid said to Shoeless Joe Jackson after he was banned from baseball for gambling, "Say it ain't so Dennis."
Of course Dennis Hastert, like everyone in Congress related to the superlobbyist, Jack Abramoff, is scrambling to return the money (would anyone, anyone please take the money so I can cover my, well, this is a family show so I'll just say..ass) to avoid being thrust into the spotlight. Nice try, but it don't wash here in Michigan and, I suspect nowhere else in the country. I worked for the Michigan Civil Service for 27 years and we could never take a gift, no where, no how. Of course, I did work for Corrections and it would be kind of obvious why I wouldn't want to accept any gifts from prisoners. I guess it is not that obvious to politicians.

Who was it that came up with that ridiculous amount and who did they think that they were going to get to check? "Okay, Mr Hastert, I see that you went to lunch with lobbyist Joe Blow and your half of the bill came to $50.13. Sorry, it seems you went over the limit and I'm going to have to ask you to resign from the House. Sorry, rules are rules." Give me a break. No lunch in Washington, D.C. is going to cost you less than $50.00. The cost of the lobbyists' bribes are built into the bill. Like if you want to leave a tip for the waitress, it is built into the bill. And, I am glad to see that Congress knows the difference between the lobbyist and a "individual". Eases my mind a bit about the boys in D.C.

The first paragraph of the Monitor article stated that ethicists (I swear I didn't make that word up) were conflicted in deciding what constituted a bribe and a gift. What does an ethicist do when there are no scandals in Washington? ( I am perfectly aware that I am now going in the Twilight Zone, there is never a day when there are no scandals in Washington. I mean, it's Washington, isn't it? Do they sit around and cut the cheese and read "Ethicist Today" magazine or what? Do they congregate around the ethically approved watercooler and discuss how ethical Desperate Housewifes are? This question is closely related to another question, What do professional golfers do on their vacation? Work in factories for two weeks?

I mean, here it is, a slow day at the Ethicists' office. No politician is squirming in the media primordial ooze. What do you do? Me? I'd go out and dig up some unethical behavior because you just know that some politician is being unethical someplace, somewhere. So I would be working in the Federal Bureau of Snaking Out UnEthical Politicians. I would even have a badge to flash and everything. Maybe a meersham pipe and deerslayer hat and a cloak. I'd have an English accent and say Tut tut, old boy, a lot. I'd smoke out those evil, unethical non-ethics people who shall remain unnamed.

Nah, forget about it. I make too much money from this blog to give it up. Well, since no one reads my blog that really is not true. And probably unethical of me to say that also.

Where does one go to apply for a job of say, Assistant Chief Ethicist? Do I put a resume' on Monster.Com? What would be my qualifications? How can I get my name in the paper as an Ethicist and be quoted on ethical behavior? And here is the most important part, how much would I be paid? When I interview for Ethicist would I have to fess up to previous unethical behavior? You know, like when they ask you in a real interview if you have had any prior convictions. Of coure, if I were a politician, I could answer that truthfully by saying, " No Sir, no convictions at all".

Would Jackson Browne sing about "Ethicist In Love"?

If anyone out there, maybe even a Ethicist, could answer these questions I would gladly field their call, but I suspect that this question will go into the black hole of knowledge that I will never be privy to.

Ta-ta my pretties!