SUN 29 OCT 2000

Update
Added retrofuturistic "ads" to the menu sidebar at left. Just for the hell of it.

Thought for the Day
"He who dies with the most toys is, nonetheless, still dead."
-- Anonymous

Why Johnny Can't Read

Photo from funny.bla-bla.com

Cinderella: The Epilogue
Cinderella was now 75 years old. After a fulfilling life with the now dead Prince, she happily sat upon her rocking chair, watching the world go by from her front porch, with a cat called Alan for companionship.

One sunny afternoon, out of nowhere, appeared the Fairy Godmother. Cinderella said, "Fairy Godmother, what are you doing here after all these years?" The Fairy Godmother replied, "Well Cinderella, since you have lived a good, wholesome life since we last met, I have decided to grant you 3 wishes. Is there anything for which your heart still yearns?"

Cinderella was taken aback, overjoyed, and after some thoughtful consideration and almost under her breath she uttered her first wish: "I wish I was wealthy beyond comprehension."

Instantly, her rocking chair was turned into solid gold. Cinderella was stunned. Alan, her old faithful cat, jumped off her lap and scampered to the edge of the porch, quivering with fear. Cinderella said, "Oh thank you, Fairy Godmother!" The Fairy Godmother replied, "It is the least I can do. What does your heart wish for your second wish?"

Cinderella looked down at her frail body, and said, "I wish I was young and full of the beauty of youth again."

At once, her wish became reality, and her beautiful youthful visage had returned. Cinderella felt stirrings inside her that had been dormant for years, and long forgotten vigour and vitality began to course through her very soul.

Then the Fairy Godmother again spoke. "You have one more wish, what shall you have?" Cinderella looked over to the frightened cat in the corner and said, "I wish you to transform Alan, my old cat, into a beautiful and handsome young man."

Magically, Alan suddenly underwent so fundamental a change in his biological make-up, that when complete he stood before her, a boy, so beautiful the like of which she nor the world had ever seen, so fair indeed that birds began to fall from the sky at his feet.

The Fairy Godmother again spoke. "Congratulations, Cinderella. Enjoy your new life." And with a blazing shock of bright blue electricity,she was gone.

For a few eerie moments, Alan and Cinderella looked into each other's eyes. Cinderella sat, breathless, gazing at the most stunningly perfect boy she had ever seen. Then Alan walked over to Cinderella, who sat transfixed in her rocking chair, and held her close in his young muscular arms.

He leaned in close to her ear, and into her ear breathed as much as whispered, blowing her golden hair with his warm breath, "I bet you regret having my balls chopped off now, don't you?"

Poe, Poe Raven
Cat-lovers and fans of Edgar Allen Poe will probably enjoy this poem. (Thanks to Dead Corpse for the link!)

Thought for the Day
"Okay, I won't."
-- Last words of Elvis Presley, responding to his girlfriend's request that he not fall asleep on the toilet again

Thought for the Day
"Nothing exists but atoms and space; everything else is opinion."
-- Democritus

Endorsement
Creative Dynamix proudly endorses the Natural Surrealist Party candidates for Prez and VP -- George G. Papoon and George Leroy Tirebiter. Don't let the names fool you -- they're not insane!

Rain
We had a wet summer, but the fall has been very dry -- until last night, when we got our first rainstorm in 28 days. I sat in the shed, listening to the rain clatter on the metal roof, playing an old tape of Quadrophenia by The Who (the original, not the horrible movie soundtrack). The music blended with the sound of the rain, each a backdrop to the other. I bought the album when I was 15, and I was reminded of times when I used to ride my bicycle for miles, sometimes getting caught in sudden rainstorms and taking shelter beneath the metal overhangs of old barns. I felt strangely pensive, and somehow young again, at least for the moment.

Thought for the Day
"Government is not reason, it is not eloquence -- it is force! Like fire, it is a dangerous servant and a fearful master; never for a moment should it be left to irresponsible action."
-- George Washington

Busy Signals
Work has been hectic lately. The company is growing at an alarming pace. In addition to expanding the network into the building across the street, we're also putting in a new phone system. The phones are hooked directly into the network, which makes things very interesting and tricky. So I've been going around the building hooking up new phones. We're also implementing company email access through the web, and I'm working on a subsidiary web site for work that involves a lot of .asp files, scripting, and database connections. Ah, the joys of modern technology....

A Dream
Perhaps as a result of just reading a book set in the 1300s, last night I dreamed that there was a midieval tournament going on in the pasture behind our house. Brightly colored tents and pavilions had been set up, and the pasture was filled with knights on armored warhorses putting their steeds through their paces, carrying lances, pennants flying. On the sidelines were liveried pages, rowdy peasants, ladies in tall pointy hats. A turret rose from the edge of the woods. One knight turned toward me, pointed, shouted, and began to charge.
I ran towards the turret. The door in the side was thick and wooden, with a large iron ring. I pulled it, and it opened. Inside, the floor was stone, with a trapdoor that looked like it was made of the same wood as the outside door, with a similar but smaller iron ring. On the side wall, near a recessed arched glass-brick window with a deep sill, were a couple of sturdy wood tables with old lab equipment on them -- bunsen burners heating bubbling Erlenmeyer flasks with stoppered tops leading to coiled glass distilling tubes -- but I didn't really have time to look. There were voices approaching behind me, so I dashed up a spiral flight of stone stairs that ran along the outside wall. There were more recessed windows, and candles burning in iron holders beside each window. I climbed breathlessly, hearing the voices getting closer and closer as I hurled myself up the spiral stairs. Then I woke up.

Thought for the Day
"No matter how high or great the throne,
What sits on it is the same as your own."
-- Chad Mitchell Trio

Decisions, Decisions

Thanks to Doyce! Photo from ilovebacon.com

Oh, Well That's Okay, Then
Sister Catherine was asking all the Catholic school children in fourth grade what they wanted to be when they grew up.

Little Sheila said, "When I grow up, I want to be a prostitute!"

Sister Catherine's eyes grew wide and she barked, "What did you say?"

"A prostitute!" Sheila exclaimed.

Sister Catherine breathed a sight of relief and said, "Whew! Thank God! I thought you said 'a Protestant!'"

Songs from the Wood
In just a week, the colors of fall have swept through the woods. The days have been sunny and unseasonably warm, but there's a nip in the breeze that unhooks the leaves and sends them flurrying down to carpet the forest floor in red and yellow, orange and brown. They crunch and rustle as I walk down the trail. There is the patter of falling acorns, the twitter of migrating birds. Deer crash through thickets and vanish. Something gray slips down the embankment into the creek.
In the yard, our kitten Mojo has captured a very large mouse, which he takes his time killing. Eventually we have to take it away from him, so he won't eat its head.

Thought for the Day
"When in doubt, deny all terms and definitions."
--Calvin & Hobbes