Elen sila lumenn omentielvo!

Monday, September 27, 2010

Sentential Links #222

The march of linkage carries on....

:: My introduction to Wagner’s great four-opera masterpiece, The Ring of the Nibelung, was probably the same as many in my generation: through Star Wars.

:: I really don’t know what you do about the “taxes is theft” crowd, except possibly enter a gambling pool regarding just how long after their no-tax utopia comes true that their generally white, generally entitled, generally soft and pudgy asses are turned into thin strips of Objectivist Jerky by the sort of pitiless sociopath who is actually prepped and ready to live in the world that logically follows these people’s fondest desires. Sorry, guys. I know you all thought you were going to be one of those paying a nickel for your cigarettes in Galt Gulch. That’ll be a fine last thought for you as the starving remnants of the society of takers closes in with their flensing tools.

:: Also, there are, like, a thousand Madisons now. Thanks, Splash.

:: When I was 15, this ad summed up for me everything I thought was ultra-groovy. What girl didn't want to look like this?

:: Who knows? Maybe F bombs are what it will take for some people to get it. Heh, heh, heh.

:: We hung up and I've been laughing and crying on and off ever since. Thinking about the passage of time, the joy and the sadness, and that I wish my stepfather was still here and could have seen that game.

:: Superman has a plan and that plan involves three animals. (Yeah, I want to know what the plan is, too!)

:: I then had a flashback to the worst of all grandparent desserts... Black Walnut Ice Milk! (Heh. We had a cat once, an orange Persian named Papagena -- Poppie, for short. Poppie loved ice cream. Absolutely adored it. Whenever someone ate ice cream, she'd hover around until you gave her the bowl at the end. And if she was sleeping in a bedroom and you were eating ice cream in the living room, she would come running the second she heard the clinking of the spoon against the bottom of the bowl. And she knew the difference in sound between a spoon against the bowl of ice cream, because she wouldn't budge if you tried to fake her out by clinking a spoon on the bottom of an empty bowl, or if you were eating soup or cereal. But...she loathed ice milk, and on the rare occasion that was the offering, once she discovered that it was ice milk in the bowl, she'd glower at us and stalk off.)

That's all for this week. More next week!

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