Lexicon’s thread concerning his desparate need to perform a certain eliminatory bodily function has gotten me thinking about the nonsensicality of many of our common sayings, such as
Happy as a clam: see the title of this thread
The guy has more money than God: does God actually have money? Does He need money? He owns the whole freaking multiverse, what would He buy?
Old as dirt :Dirt, the good kind, the kind you want to plant your tomatoes in, consists primarily of decayed organic matter. Mostly, plants, leaves, lawn clippings, vegetable matter that died maybe a couple of years ago. Dirt really isn’t that old. Sure, there’s mineral content, but that’s sand, and I don’t really think sand qualifies as dirt.
I’ve been wanting to get that off my chest for a while, actually.
Well, just off the shoulder, I’d like to say that seeing you get that off your chest is a load off my mind, and it does my heart good to see someone getting off on the right foot and eschewing the kind of, “See No Evil,” monkey business that is just so much crying over spilt milk.
It’s about damned time someone called a spade a spade around here and quit all the pussy-footing around and walking on eggshells that just reeks of so much cat-on-a-hot-tin-roof blue sky idealism.
You could always try asking a Scientologist. They seem to have something for clams. Of course, that would mean talking to a Scientologist ::shudder::
“It is not from the benevolence of the butcher, the brewer, or the baker that we expect our dinner, but from their regard to their own interest.” - Adam Smith
Actually, AWB, there are some religions that have Hells that are rather uncomfortably chilly. In particular, Tibetan Buddhists have a Hell that is extrememly hot on one side, cold on the other, and you spend your time flinging yourself back and forth between the two trying to get comfortable, until you’ve paid of your last lifetime’s bad karma and are ready for reincarnation.
I present for your entertainment and education, John Prine singing “It’s a Big Old Goofy World”
Up in the morning
Work like a dog
Is better than sitting
Like a bump on a log
Mind all your manners
Be quiet as a mouse
Some day you’ll own a home
That’s as big as a house
I know a fella
He eats like a horse
Knocks his old balls
Round the old golf course
You oughta see his wife
She’s a cute little dish
She smokes like a chimney
And drinks like a fish
There’s a big old goofy man
Dancing with a big old goofy girl
Ooh baby
It’s a big old goofy world
Now Elvis had a woman
With a head like a rock
I wished I had a woman
That made my knees knock
She’d sing like an angel
And eat like a bird
And if I wrote a song
She’d know ever single word
Kiss a little baby
Give the world a smile
If you take an inch
Give 'em back a mile
Cause if you lie like a rug
And you don’t give a damn
You’re never gonna be
As happy as a clam
So I’m sitting in a hotel
Trying to write a song
My head is just as empty
As the day is long
Why it’s clear as a bell
I should have gone to school
I’d be wise as an owl
Stead of stubborn as a mule.
“I’m tired of being an object of ridicule. I wanna be a figure of fear, respect, and SEX!”
-Radar O’Reilly
Great stuff. Whaddaya think–would you rather spend eternity burning in a lake of fire, or living in what sounds like Scotland (“icy fogs and mists, darkness and cold”)?
[/hijack]
P.S. If we had a cuss word filter, this whole conversation would have never taken place.
“Why, sometimes I’ve believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast!” - the White Queen
Well, I don’t care what anyone says. I think clams have had it far too good for far too long! Sitting there in their shells, living for free on beachfront property, eating whatever happens to float by. I’d say they’ve got it pretty dang good! Why shouldn’t they be happy?
It’s time to put an end to clam parastism on society. Put the clams to work, dammit!
Damn skippy! It’s about time Major Ideas were considered around here.
the clam thing: well, negative proof. If said clam is cooked, swimming with garlic, lemon or such, it ain’t happy–or at least beyond clam happiness, angst, anger, etc.
work like a dog: well, they do. Think it’s easy being warm, furry, loyal companions to human kind? Does your human nearest and dearest adore you with morning breath? Love you out of your mind, no matter what?
No wonder they shed a bit and sleep a lot.
more money than God: well, since we arrive naked, bloody and helpless, and can’t take riches with us when we leave, I guess everything in between is on loan. Speaking strictly for myself, I really don’t want the loan called in any time soon.
I have no real convictions about the afterlife, but it doesn’t seem sensible to get pissy about temporary ownership of “stuff”.
DAMN! One of these days I’ll post something that doesn’t ramble on forever. How does Wally get ideas across in such few lines?!
Kind of begs the question though, doesn’t it, which is, Does God actually have any money?
Money is essentially a metaphysical construct. Originally coins with King Solomon’s, or whoever’s picture stamped on them. Probably coins were originally a convenient standardized way of carrying gold around, and gold was valuable because it was A) Pretty and
B) Rare
Now we have these pieces of paper that are backed by nothing but our own sweat.
Michael Palin- “Money isn’t real!”
Graham Chapman- “It is from where I’m standing, young man, and it blows my mind!”
God didn’t invent the thing, He holds it as being utterly valueless. So, does He actually have any, and if He did, what would He do with it?
And how could you not be happy being smothered in garlic and lemon?
