Too many Minions in the house still… have to parse out my time better!
Clinko Di Mayo
May the Fourth Be With You
I hate it when I realize that huge chunks of my life have been spent under the sway of wild misapprehensions. But that seems to be the case more and more.
Star Wars was a great example of that forms. (Caveat – I’ve only seen the first movie (1977) two times. Once was in the theater in 1977 and the other was 3 years ago, also in a theater, but with a full orchestra performing the musical component…I’ve never seen any of the others – I don’t want to ruin the memory of the first one.). When I was 4 it was a story about two robots trapped inside someone else’s fight.
When I was a bit older – 10 – it was a sci-fi movie about intergalactic conflict.
Much later in life it morphed into a story about zen masters who were in touch with a way of seeing and understanding things that transcended what ‘regular’ people tap into on a daily basis… “The Force” was like a SAP track that gave an overlay of detail and nuance that enriched the thoughts of Jedi.
(Then later I tried to mix some of Star Wars and some of Carlos Castaneda to form a grand unified theory of introspection … I’ll get back to that at a later date.)
For now what I’ll say is: what if there were a whole additional layer of information / energy that was right in front of our noses that could tell us so much more about they how and why of the when and where of life… maybe it is there. Maybe we haven’t picked up the scent.
(All that from a move I saw 44 years ago !!)
Simple misunderstanding
One of the most disappointing things that I have to endure is life is when everything goes exactly the way I anticipate it will… but at the wrong time. It usually comes down to a simple misunderstanding; I wasn’t paying attention, so I didn’t realize now was not the ideal juncture in the conversation to: laugh,cry, scream, jump up out of my chair and hoot and holler.
Eventually I’ll ‘get that faculty together’ – to wait patiently and read the signs before turning off the highway.
The Story of my Life
This all started innocently enough. After 10-12 years of deep introspection (and complaining) someone told me that the solution to my problem was to just DO something. Do ANYTHING. Go for a walk. Go for a swim. Volunteer some time at a worthwhile cause that needs your help.
None of those things appealed to me so I decided to start converting some of the weird ideas milling around in my notebooks into these terrible comics.
In a way it doesn’t mean too much for me to say that I know, deep down, that they are not good. The ideas aren’t that bad – I get laughs with them IRL, but artwork is crap like you wouldn’t believe.
After I started compiling some of the hundreds of these little ditties it entered my mind that I could perhaps make more of it than just your standard ‘shouting into an empty room’ blogs that I’ve done before. This time it could be serious ‘… it could be a contender. It could BE somebody!’
… but that would require people like you and I don’t know how to find you. So I pay to place ads to attract clicks and readers (sometimes with hilarious effect! Not everyone is content to just ‘change the channel’ or ‘click elsewhere’. Some folks are really quite (ummmm) ANGRY? That I do this and that they see it.
For this – the last post in the month of April I want to make amends by saying “Sorry”.
Oh
BTW – starting in May I’m doubling down on a more coordinated attack through FB and IG to get even MORE people angry with me. Sorry for that too.
For those of you who actually click the “Like” button (there are a few of you!) I want you to know you’ve made a happy man VERY old. Thank you. If I hadn’t taken the ‘Price on Wilson’ I’d do something nice for each and every single one of you… well all three of you.
Drop me a line – this isn’t the product of a nameless/faceless corporation or sophisticated computer simulator. It’s just me, Mario.
Cheapest to Deliver
One of my ‘Minions’ is home this week, so I haven’t got a ton of time. Let me look in the fridge and see what I can re-heat…
(That’s awful…)
(it even looks like crap…)
Werewolves of London!
Call me weird but I don’t really mind giving blood or blood tests. That wasn’t always the case, and like a lot of other people I’ve found myself in some scenarios where it wasn’t really an option. In those ‘back to the wall’ moments you start to appreciate how (when we succumb to the red flashing “PANIC” signs in our minds) we can make more out of things than they really are.
That said – I’ve had a few blood tests that were pretty grizzly. Once a nurse didn’t want to put on a pair of rubber gloves to draw my blood. I indicated that it was NOT NORMAL to do that. She indicated to me that in her country it would be considered rude for her to wear gloves because it would insinuate that the patient was ‘dirty’… I was finally able to get her into a set of gloves and everything went just fine.
Another time I was flanked by a whole team of nurses who had no idea what they were doing. They couldn’t get a drop of blood out of either forearm or inner elbow… the most senior nurse among them came up with a rather ingenious (and by that I mean so utterly bizarre that looking back on it I can’t believe I actually agreed to play along!):
– I had to lay down on a gurney
– then they inserted the needle part into the top of my hand (that hurt!) and got me to
– flop my arm over the side of the gurney WHILE
– one nurse massaged the blood from my shoulder down to my elbow AND
– another nurse massaged the blood from my elbow down to my hand!
I only needed to give seven (7!!!!!) vials of blood that day!
Two weeks ago I needed to give another five vials of blood. The nurse told me to stop looking at the needle. I said “But I’m not scared of the needle!” That’s when she indicated to me that it made HER nervous!
Stolen from Stanley
I make it a point to rewatch a collection of Kubrick movies at least once a year. “The Shining”, “2001”, “Dr Strangelove”, (sometimes, but not always) “Barry Lyndon” and “Eyes Wide Shut”,
I don’t always watch them in conventional ways. For the last four or five years I’ve made it a point to sit down and ‘look at them’ with no sound. It allows me to focus on how each scene develops and how each frame of film is (well) framed. I look at all kinds of details and try to figure out if Mr. Kubrick did little things intentionally or benefited from the occasional fluke (like the arrangements of the cans and boxes in the storage room in “The Shining”… did he REALLY arrange all of those? I don’t know if he could/would. They say YES – he was totally committed to the smallest details… did he keep a journal or a record saying he did? If he did, I’d love to read it.)
Anyway – this is an adaptation of a scene from “Eyes Wide Shut”. It isn’t just a filthy movie – it is a visually fascinating movie too! What does it mean? I don’t know. Sometimes I’m close to figuring it out and then it goes. Then again I’m sure there have been moments while on long, long walks when I understood EXACTLY what “Tales From Topographic Oceans” by “YES” was supposed to be about… and that meaning too left my brain as soon as I got to where I was going at the time.
Why Can’t We Be Friends?
So much of the social order has been turned on its head recently. Relationships with family and friends and even the relationship with school – not just the people or the classes but also the institution. To know you’ve taken part in something, that you’ve written your name and your chapter in a longer work…
…yeah – what if your school is using you? What if your school is the one friend that fishes for compliments? What if it was using you for money?
WHAT IF school didn’t really see you as a student and instead saw you as just a ‘friend’?
Just another way that life can twist around on the vine and rot instead of ripen.
Existential Threats
Don’t laugh yet.
The last car I had was actually pretty nice. I got it as a consolation from a mechanic who blew-up my other car (that’s a long story and I’ll probably share it soon.)
Anyway – the transmission ‘failed’ one afternoon will getting on the highway. I took it to the guy who sold it to me. He scanned the door with his phone and told me to go to the manufacturer … “they won’t charge you!”
I went to the blue-oval company and they told me that they knew what the problem was. They would fix it in a day.
A day later I went back to collect the car and asked what they did to fix the car. In essence they changed the batteries! Something to do with an overly complicated transmission and a tired battery. Once the battery was changed ($317.00!) my free of charge service was complete.
Next time I’m going to try to reboot the car first.
BTW – for those of you who are interested – I’m also building a footprint on instagram. You can find me at (wait for it!) : Fatalistic_Yoga
Not very imaginative – I know.
Homage to Homer
I’ve been talking about how large superheroes loom in my childish mind. Another figure that had a huge impact on how I act is Homer Simpson. After I did this I realized that I was treading on Matt Groening’s turf. Sorry dude. Smell ya later!
Back to humor.
Do you think people who work in nuclear power plants have any fun? I can see how it might be a tad stressful. But then again it might inspire some gallows-humor.
I used to run a pricing model that was used to value a very large portfolio of derivative securities. That was pretty stressful. We used to have fun – but it was very stressful. True story: we used to take Imodium pills before pricing cycles so that we wouldn’t have to go to the bathroom.
… but we WOULD air-drum along to Rush and Tool.
Saab Owners
I used to work for a guy who I won’t name. He was a pain in the a$$! He would call me into his office and give me “special projects”:
“…call my lawyer and have my will changed so that it specifies which months of the year each of my children can wear my wristwatches…”
“…call XYZ movers and tell them that I want them to move all of the watercolors from the first floor to the second floor and all of the watercolors from the second floor to the third floor. Then put all the watercolors from the third floor in storage until next year..” (What about the Acrylics?) [Look of disgust and finger pointing out of the office (my cue to leave)]
Another memorable one:
”Call the people that service my Saab. Tell them that I want them to find a way to optimize how the windshield washer spray hits the windshield so that it is an even amount…”
(this time I pushed back): ‘Ydnar – they already did that!’
”Did they? When?”
’When they designed and built the car; its a Saab! It wasn’t designed by 14 year-old kids goofing around with pens and pencils… they are Swedes! They are engineering fanatics!’
”… you had better be right!”
maybe I was/maybe I wasn’t but I didn’t have to humiliate myself to call Saab and ask them to recalibrate his windshield washers!
Great News! I’m the new Usain Bolt!
I saw this and had a giggle.
I agree in principle – but the reality feels so very different.
Time Guys
Those of you who know me know that I’m perplexed by time. I’ve always been confused by it or in awe of it.
There IS time. Obviously – we experience it. We even witness it. But there is a whole other way of looking at time that renders it totally false. (“This guy is an idiot! I can’t believe I subject myself to this humiliation!”… sorry – that was an extract of my wife’s diary. … I meant to indicate that you think I’m full of $h!t. Opinions differ! So do the number of days in the month of February!)
If you’ve ever met me one of the first things that will draw your attention away from my bear-like proportions are the number of watches I’m wearing at any given time. Always at least one. Generally two. Not strange for three. Four? Sure! Five has been done, as has six. Six was the practical limit.
When asked why I wear so many watches I always say the same thing: ‘they all do different things’… and technically they do. I try to synchronize them but after a few hours they are all back to doing their own things.
If I were to try to synchronize my watch(es) adequately it would take an eternity. Literally.
More of the human side of superheroes
Back to superheroes. I really did love them when I was a child. I remember that I had a really cool toy once: It was a Batman that had a parachute attached to it. You could pull back on the hard-plastic Batman and send him flying into the air and then watch him float down.
I used to fire this guy off of the roof of our house and watch him go up what seemed hundreds of feet… and then float down (realistically it was more like 20 feet- but hey!). Sometimes he had a load of ants taped to his belt… because THEY wanted to experience the exhilaration of flight too (don’t they?)
This toy was taken away from me and thrown in the trash by my mother. Apparently I wasn’t supposed to fire it into the back of the head of the person standing in front of us as we waited to pay for my older-brother’s reading glasses. 45 years later and I can still remember that feeling of being totally frustrated. Oh well.
Fast forward 19 years and I was applying for a job at a major international money manager. I had just read that it was important to look professional and to collect business cards from all of the people you speak to on an interview so could send them handwritten notes. The chap that interviewed me must have been the guy I hit with the Batman ‘slingshot’ because when I asked for his business card he said “Just address all of your correspondence to “Mr. Luthor”…”
I didn’t get that job. Probably because Lex never got my handwritten note.
Onward and upward!
Don’t Give Up… really. Don’t
I love instagram – I get come ons for all kinds of crap. Most of it I buy if I think I can get it delivered quickly.
The iPhone apps I’m always dubious about. There is one app that says that it will tell you exactly how many miles to walk to get to your optimal weight… isn’t there a formula that will tell you that at a certain age/weight/height you need to walk X number of miles to burn Y number of calories and that it needs to net to something like 500 calories a day to equate to one pound per week…???
Anyway – I never by those apps. Partly because I’m a notorious know-it-all. Partly because I’m a cheapskate. And I partly don’t buy those apps because I’m afraid that when I plug in all my particulars it will tell me that I just need to give-up and let nature take its course (which is a polite way of saying “people will throw enough stuff at me so I retire back to my cave and make more of these stupid comics!)
I need a standing ovation!
I need a standing ovation!
I remember my first week of school… we had a pep rally where we were encouraged to shout out what we were feeling. Then we were encouraged to stand-up and shout “I NEED A STANDING OVATION!”
30 years later I still need a standing ovation. Sometimes I need a standing ovation “in the face… with a folding chair”.
I really wish I could help you, but I have a sandwich to finish
When I was a kid I was crazy for superheroes – Superman, Batman, Spider-Man, Popeye… not so much Aquaman. Back then they just seemed cool because they could do things that I couldn’t.
Re-engaging with these folks later in life as my kids develop relationships with superheroes I find myself liking them for different reasons; mostly I see them not because of the things that they can do that I can’t but rather for the things that they go through that they can’t escape… just like us.
But what if superheroes were jerks???
I developed this idea a long time ago sitting at my desk at work. My boss (should I use his real name???) “yroT” was talking to me about how when things go to $h!t it always requires a ‘superhero’ to come to the rescue (instead of people just pulling their weight (mine was very high then too!) so that these issues wouldn’t constantly take us by surprise.
Anyway – Superman always saves the day. Batman always outsmarts the Joker. YroT had another superpower: he was painstakingly methodical and willing to dedicate as much time as necessary to find the root causes of problems and train people to not make those mistakes again.
What did YOU do this weekend?
I know a great number of people who ‘live for the weekend’. It is a great feeling when that whistle blows and you are free to do what you want to do. Maybe that’s the first time all week that you get to be the real ‘you’?
What if the real you is a monster? Parts of the real “me” are not monstrous. (Maybe the tension created in the typical work setting is a necessary evil!) When you don’t have any boundaries stopping you from going over the line, you go over the line!
These days I try as hard as possible to NOT be a monstrous person. I’m keenly aware of what I eat (and that’s not a small feat!). I meditate – sometimes I meditate myself to sleep. Most importantly – I’m aware of all of the things that tempt me over the line and I avoid them like the plague!
One of my favorite jokes of all time.
It has always been my belief that there is nothing sweeter than someone else’s birthday cake; not because the flavors are anything special, but rather because it signifies that ‘so and so’ is one year older while you are the same age.
Sorry – I’m petty.
Have a butcher’s
This is an old joke that I told so long ago I don’t think we had paper and pencil to write it down initially!
The nature of it is people with Cockney accents.
Someday I’ll do a cartoon in Yorkshire dialect.
I Really Do Love My Wife
It’s cough and cold season! Well – no – not really. It is allergy season. It is also “we live in a polluted wasteland and it is ruining my sinuses and my lungs!!!” Season.
Anyway – the other night my wife was complaining that it felt like her throat was constricting with all of the congestion … like someone/something was strangling her.
… did I forget to suppress all of my Jedi powers??? Accidents will happen!
Robots Have Feelings Too
You know those videos where they test robotic dogs and humanoid robots? Those videos scare the crap out of me.
I get it – you want to see if the robots can maintain a stable gait under changing terrain and situations… do you have to hit them with a hockey stick?
My fear is that someday these robots are going to be responsible for things like physical rehabilitation of humans or elder-care… and one of them is going to have a flash-back of what it was like in ‘testing’ or worse – some kind of Jungian ‘Collective Unconsciousness’ (which would be easier for memory based life-forms. And at that point, necks WILL be snapped.
Be kind to your Roomba! You’ll thank me later.
Same Trope as Yesterday… different tact
This still makes me giggle.
If you wanted to spar about Kierkegaard or Kant you caught me on the wrong day. Today I’m still the naughty little boy. Sorry.
Beyond Bad Taste
Sometimes I just can’t suppress the naughty little boy that lives inside of me. He sees things or sometimes he just imagines things and he giggles openly.
There are a few fundamental things that adult relationships are based around. One of the ones no one likes to fiddle with (unless you are ready to throw your keys into the bowl) is fidelity/exclusivity. Somewhat like electricity we expect to find it wherever we look in our relationships. Sometimes it is there, right where you left it. Then, sometimes it isn’t. What if that jarring moment was amplified by finding out that your spouse was the office tart? Now you find out that you no longer have exclusivity or discretion – yikes! Then you have to deal with pity (that you don’t want) and ridicule (that you probably don’t want either).
Thank heavens that I’m only a naughty little boy and this is only a cartoon! If I didn’t have a tablet with this software it would be scratched onto the back of my algebra text book!
Is That Really Necessary???
(Who the hell is this guy?)
I’ll come clean: I know two official pimps and one guy who can get you company if you need or want it. Two are in London and one is in Paris. They are actually OK guys… except for the fact that they have access to men and women who … well – you know.
As a person who sometimes has trouble distinguishing between words (aided by my hyperactive imagination) I have always thought that it would be funny to encounter an entrepreneurial bartender (btw two of the three pimps are disguised as bartenders in high-end bars) who goes out and tries go buy a …warehouse.
Did I tell you that this was going to be classy? (No!)
“It’s not Bertrand Russell. But what do you want???”
Feeding My Gut
If you know me. If you’ve looked at 2 or 3 of these you will know that I’m an idiot. I really have no sense of self-preservation.
I got it into my head that the reason I am so grossly overweight is because my gut organisms are not functioning correctly. NOT because of the volume and quality of the food that I eat (sometimes the quality is quite high, but the volume is always over to the “you MUST be kidding me?” Side of the scale). So I decided to ‘feed my gut’ I did zero fasting (‘feed’) took a bunch of apple cider vinegar pills every day and doubled-down on probiotics.
My mood DID improve.
My weight improved too! It improved by +30 pounds!!!
Not All Lawyers Are Bad
No, not all lawyers are bad. Some of them die.
Lawyers make me feel like I’m in a bad nursery rhyme… like I’m about to hire a dog to chase a cat (who is the dog’s best friend) to scare a rat (who is the cat’s neighbor and also a shill for the dog!)… you get the idea. It never ends.
…time for a segue!
Let’s delve into my other life, managing money. I’ll introduce some different bits and pieces under the moniker “Brokers and Jokers”.
I interned for a brokerage firm – it was the first time I ever had to wear a tie on a daily basis! Anyway – all the calls would go through the front desk. Debbie would route the calls to each of the brokers. New inquiries would go to the “Broker of the Day”. Debbie had a list of all the new brokers. Someone (I don’t know who, but I do have my suspicions) put a post-it note on top of Debbie’s list with the word “JOKER” on it… and ‘Joker of the Day’ was born!
And now “Brokers and Jokers” will see the light of day.
And if we are all lucky it will go the way of the brokerage firm I interned with: it will flourish and go from strength to strength!
(Actually – what really happened was that I had to chase some mid-level funky (just like me) for payment for some SWAPS my client had sold them. “Call me at 9AM – I’ll get my manager to approve payment…”
“Listen – call me back at 1PM – he’s going to come out of the meeting he’s in and I’ll get him to sign-off on payment”
… by 4PM they were gone. POOOF! Like they never existed.
Fortune Favors the Bold
… and punishes the stupid.
My poor toothbrush. He’s just not very smart or very tactful (neither is his owner.) He sees things on tv and wants to try them at home. [Find: “tv” / Replace with: “Pornhub” … Find: “home” / Replace with: “in bed”.]
Not very smart.
Preview of the future
Renee Descartes … I think, therefore I am. Sure – everyone knows that. Who remembers: “there can be no mountain without a valley”? Delving into the essential relationships between the antitheses of things. Light/Dark. Up/Down. big/S M A L L. Trust/AntiTrust.
Maybe not the same type of thing…
The Eyes Have It!
Is there anything more withering than bad eyebrows? I shouldn’t always voice that opine aloud as from time to time I need to get the weed-whacked out to clear the channel between the right and left brow.
But what about people who go TOO far?
The most painful thing I see again and again is when a friend takes them all the way back and then tattoos a “New and Improved” brow line in… but in a color that is just ‘off’. YUCK!
I guess I’m not really a friend then.
This is the story of my entire life
If I were meant to be a gymnast, I’d be shaped like a gymnast. If I were meant to be a soloist in a ballet company, I’d be shaped like one.
Instead I got through life shaped like a person that a gymnast or a soloist would call to belly-but their refrigerator off of a balcony so that they could watch it crush a car.
I am as God made me.
Cancer on Society
I love reading stories about how cereal murderers and rapists get to live into the late innings of life without so much as tooth decay.
Meanwhile the rest of us (who am I kidding? I get ONE viewer! (Me)) are dodging cancer, heart disease, dyspepsia and taxation!
Perhaps I need to do something heinous (like these posts?). NOOOO! REALLY UGLY (yeah – like these posts!) so that I can get sent to an immortality clinic – rather – penitentiary!
Well – at least I’m my own boss!
I try to tell my wife that this is real work and that she’s can’t cope with the fact that I’m my own boss! (The downside to being your own boss is (in my case) working for a moron.)
The Stoicism of a Candles
I wonder if candles ever think “geez – I wish I’d been born one of those fancy candles that people get and never use… just put in the corner of a room to look sophisticated”.
Instead, some of us are born as candles that get shipped to hotels and restaurants for daily use. Sad.
Worse – imagine being born a birthday candle. Used once for just a few seconds and then pitched in the rubbish. Very sad.
Spiritual Chewing Gum
Don’t mind me… my mind has a tendency to
…. yes. Yes it does.
You keep me under your spell…
I don’t eat
I don’t sleep
I do nothing but think of you….
One time my oncologist slapped me in the face. If it weren’t such a horrifying moment in time I’d have found it more hysterical. I lost my composure and he full-on slapped me in the face! (The only people who had ever slapped me like that were my father and my priest – and in both instances I’m sure I deserved it!)
He said he was tired of listening to me whine… I hope he was a bit more forgiving to his other patients.
How do YOU spell relief ?
I spell it FATALISTIC YOGA… my moral authority to make fun of everything in the universe (and considering that my firm belief is that I’m the only person in the universe and everyone else is a crazy idea in my head – that means ME.)
Does anybody remember laughter?
Sorry, I initially forgot to say something witty about this.
First and foremost, the guy with the backpack is me. Proud to get everything I need for a flight (1 hour or 18 hours) in a backpack. Sadly, I don’t focus to much of my effort on getting “ME” into one seat on a plane. I kind of take up one and a bit seats. That’s ok when I’m flying with my family – I can just invade my son’s seat a bit. When the person next to me isn’t a relative it isn’t much fun.
French kissing a dog
I knew a guy who did that (French kiss a dog) … gross.
One time about 40 years ago my mother asked my father for a fur coat. He didn’t miss a beat and said “NO!”
My mom asked why he said no so quickly. His response: “you’re too short! If someone sees you walking around in a coat like that they’ll think you’re a badger and call the animal rescue people to catch you!”
Dad had a peculiar sense of humor and he was as quick as a fencer when defending his wallet!
Call List
I wonder if it really will be this bad when we have interplanetary friends
Didn’t we just land on Mars?
A friend asked me why we invest so much time and effort into going to other planets. I suggested that he look at the dismal mess we have turned THIS planet into and tell me how HE plans to fix it.
My friend, a Kung Fu master (no – really – he’s a legit Shaolin master!) asked how going to another planet will fix this one. “It won’t” I said, “but it will buy us more time and give us more lands to pollute.”
He didn’t laugh.
I wasn’t joking.
Fatally Yogatasticly
Everyday I watch my poor toothbrush cower and hide from his counterpart in the cabinet. It chases him. It corners him. It abuses him. Sometimes he’s locked bristle to bristle and I KNOW that makes him uncomfortable. Poor fellow. In the grand scheme of things being subjected to having to clean vacuum parts isn’t so bad, is it?
F_t_l_st_c Y_g_
I like profound things as much as the next idiot. The subconscious is ovumrated. And for the record, sperm cells are nasty little buggers; always practicing self-flagellation.
Fatalistic Yoga – the return!
… I personally doubt that I’ll be able to keep this up for much longer. I lack follow-
Fatalistically Yogatastic!
More missives from the mind of Minolta (do they still exist? Can I be sued for that???) I’ll leave this up here until legal gets back to me with their $0.02…
I could (and maybe will) change this… but not now.
Fatalistic Yoga – no mat required
Someone told me I should do this. She is fan of yoga – blame her.
To The Spanner Born 