Daily BahaiFi

via Daily Prompt: Shimmer

One day while I was pursuing my new hobby of urban hiking I spied in the distance an opportunity I was not expecting.  I had just finished Taeing my Chi, Yogaing my Yodel, and Shaking my Chakras when I glimpsed the full tilt shimmer of a BahaiFi Bonanza. Nevermind my previous travels had taken me right past this glimmering jewel, the perspective distance called my secret name loud and clear.

“Eureka!” said the right side of my bicameral brain to the left side. Or was that left to right? I guess that depends where you are standing.



Cheese and Meat

Number one son was an aficionado of the Original.

Woe be unto him who tried to foist any New items on him. Perish the thought of Improved items as well. Same for Deluxe.  Limited begone. Nope. He wanted the Original.

He was the purist goalie in the family. Try to get anything past him that was not what he considered original, from BBQ sauce to Kraft Italian salad dressing, and the howls could be heard to the Original high heavens.

Anything other than cheese and meat on a burger was grounds to ban that McDonald’s from his Original list. With an added Original pox upon the hapless server who served it up in such an Unoriginal fashion to him.

He was indeed the embodiment of the Original Sin.

He was a terrible consumer in training and the nightmare of all fiduciaries of our growth fetishistic enterprises and nation.

But after years in front of the television soaking in commercials, online Ad culture, and peer pressure he came around as all good potential productivity pods do. Now number one son wants everything new and improved in the world you can possibly imagine.

But since he is one of the Original Millennials he may be too late since the Original promise of trickle down has already been lapped up, swallowed , and sent elsewhere.

Maybe someone has an Original idea to solve this.

I haven’t heard it.

I have observed a lot of very Unoriginal silliness in between the TV commercials, Ad Banners, and pop up ads however.

So I hope he still only wants cheese and meat on his burger.

After all , it’s the Original.



Remember to carry the remainder. Because the remainders always forget.

Never carry a conversation in your head when you will have to carry it later for real. Because it never goes how you expect it to.

Carry on the conversation until the last participle has been dangled. Even if it hurts.

The opening shower scene in the movie “Carrie” with Sissy Spacek changed my life forever.

I will carry it with me always.

I would share the YouTube link but I carry the Puritan albatross given me by the early religious refuges that showed up on these shores.

Carry on.




Oh to heck with it. Too many of us have had to carry that Plymouth Rock with us for too long.

Where’s Waldo?

“I pack my trunk, embrace my friends, embark on the sea, and at last wake up in Naples, and there beside me is the Stern Fact, the Sad Self, unrelenting, identical, that I fled from.” –Ralph Waldo Emerson

There’s Waldo!

But that is not what I am obsessed with. I am obsessed with me.

Me memememememememememememe.

I am my own ever present meme.

Sure you may have thought the statement,”Where ever you go, there you are” was a joke. But it’s not.

It’s true.

Where ever I go I am there.

And it is freakin’ me out man.

That Emerson dude knew. I mean he really knew. This was long before he went into fridges and Hi Fi  and stereo stuff. But his stereo’s always needed at least two speakers.  It took him until 1969 to figure that one and he needed both Marx and Lennon’s help.

How can you be two places at once when you’re not anywhere at all?



But that makes three. He was really old by then so neither he nor I am inclined to wrestle that whole trinity thing.  I take comfort that I may still have time to transcend my obsession with myself since I am nowhere nearly as chronologically gifted as Emerson was even when he first started making radios.

Those were indeed monophonic constructs.


See. Beautiful.

It all starts with one.


But the key word is starts.

So even though I am stuck lugging the object of my obsession with me where ever I travel and have to experience the world through my obsession’s senses, filter them through my self obsessed brain, share them though my self obsessed mouth or my self obsessed fingers through this self obsessed blog post I have hope.

Through empathy maybe I can have brief flashes of being two places at once and see the world through another’s self obsessed perceptions. If I am really lucky that person I am empathizing with has transcended self obsession and it will reveal a whole new vision of reality.

Kind of like, they’ll tell two friends and I’ll tell two friends ect. ect ect.

Meanwhile I need to get more coffee. See. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Me.


I Believe I’m Sinking Down

Oh if only crossroads were so simple. Right. Left. Forward. Or run home and hide under the blankets.

Then again there are intersections that occur, have occurred, are occurring, and will continue to occur in the eternity called now.

Kind of like this: *

KVAH rev

Only with an infinite number of lines running through that single point we call now, continuing on into infinity and (for those of you that might be Buzzed) beyond.

So next time someone asks you to get the butter, just remember the options are endless. From explaining dietary implications of, as well as, the inevitable string theory of dairy products in general, oleo and the inherent sins of such marketing obfuscation and chicanery,  reenactments from scenes in “Last Tango In Paris” aside, to the full inclusion of just acquiescing to their request in smug silence: try not to be what my pale imitation (as seen above *) of a Kurt Vonnegut illustration alludes to.

So just choose and know we are all just:

After all as my father advised when I was just a sprout, “Go do something even if it is wrong”




It’s Been Done Before

Done. Done. And done

Norman Rose  is the V.O. of my life.

B.T.W This post will also cover “This Is Your Song” because I am very very lazy.



Schmeat The New Bosses

Her seeker found it in that dusty store. She only had to barter a pound of beaker bacon and a nice block of schmeat. But she knew her Mistress would have approved. Many a night to flickering juicy juice had the priestess described this item to her. Now she had found one and will return with her prize and hopefully receive rewards a plenty. Good N Plenty.

The look on her mistresses face made her small pigeon chest swell with pride before she bowed low in ritualistic presentation and forked the artifact over to the wisest of the wise of the days of their lives.

The High Priestess snatched the artifact and hurried to her most prized possession. There she tried to insert the item into the gaping slot of the machine. No matter how she inserted the silvery rust stained object or how many buttons she pushed or knobs she twisted nothing happened, other than the low glow of the machine from the load of juicy juice it was receiving.

It was then the wisest of the wise. The Ryans Hope of all General Hospitalland made her pronouncement.

“We obviously need seven more of these to make it work. After all, the front of this Rad o Shack gizmoddo does say 8-Track.”



As for any concern about the paltry data I had stored on that gussied up CD in my puter’s I have no fear. The Carrington Event Redux of 2017 made electronic mince meat of those ohhs and ones as well as all stored electronic data on this little spinning rock of ours.

Thanks Sól