blabber in process

OK, unless you have a LOT of patience, you shouldn't bother reading the post that is right below this one. I try to write and edit my rants as two separate sessions. This one posted right away, so it stayed. I just woke up from my nap and it seemed 'a tad wordy' and maybe a little disjointed.
I will edit it down to a quick little blurb, but I will leave it here for those that are looking for anything to read. This came pouring out after I read a little blurb about iPods and electronic picture frames coming with pre-installed viruses.
All of a sudden it just came out and I couldn't stop it. I usually park it and edit it later if it deserves to be revived.
I also had read that a woman had sat on her toilet for two years and the ambulance was called because "something was wrong with her legs" and she couldn't walk anymore. It seems her skin had grown around the seat and it had to be surgically removed.
Boy am I glad that story didn't cause the same sort of uncontrollable writing spree.

How to control the WORLD -- bruhahahahahaha

*** message **** Status: Approved by assistant-Poobah #6489.5 ****
ParaType: History/included:blendedadvertising:GetRich:ExplanationThereof:
Dateline 2025 with references to history, political, incl: ViraMaticUcontrl opportunity
Display until 11:59am March 31, 2025.
Start:
**************************************************
[cue standard "excited consumer jingle 234"]

This is simple.
How many of these apply to you:
[ ] I am Evil
[ ] I am Wealthy (50% of respondents to the first question will be)
[ ] I have control of a large number of people in my country
[ ] My country or company is a manufacturer of consumer goods
[ ] I work for/in a company that manufactures some part of a consumer good.
[ ] I seem to have an urge to control other people.
[ ] I would prefer, if at all possible, to control the world. (bruhahahahahaha, [rub hands together and hunch shoulders like a vulture while glancing from side to side)
[ ] I work in quality control, shipping, receiving, customer setup, programming, assembly or know or control someone who does.
[ ] I am the Grand Poobah of a sinister police force and can make offers that can't be refused.
[ ] I am a staunch supporter of the Patriot Act and will obtain the necessary retroactive subpoenas as needed.
[ ] I haven't got a clue. I just go to work and do what I am supposed to do.
[ ] I have purchased an electronic device before (ANY electronic device).
[ ] I have plugged some devices into my computer at one time or another.
[ ] I have an Internet connection.

If you have selected more than 3.5 of these choices, then you may have an opportunity for fame, fortune, and power. If you didn't check off the wealthy or powerful choices then you are NOT disqualified from this event.
You can HELP someone else, (possibly even somebody that you approve of) control the world.
You could be eligible for all of the benefits of belonging to the "Universal Henchman for Evil-Doers Union".
Imagine the pride that your grandchildren will feel when they tell others that their grandfather or grandmother was an actual Henchman for the "Revolution of Alignment of 2012".

OK, enough of this bubbly excitement about how YOU will gain from this... I will tell you what got me so excited. The secret word today is "OUTSOURCING".

Outsourcing is the way that manufacturing operates in the modern world. A company has a product that needs to be made, well they can't make it themselves so they hire somebody else to make it for them. A company that is going to sell a product just has the ideas, marketing staff, financial people, etc. They usually do not actually anything, they ask for bids and companies from China, Mexico, India, Portugal, Malaysia, Trenton NJ, or Chicago all submit an estimate of how much that they can make a product for. The bids from "somewhere else" are usually "less expensive" than making it locally, so you send the paperwork and cash over to them, wait a while, and then they ship the finished goods directly to retailers in your local country. Everybody makes their percentage and everybody is happy. Especially the consumer that just bought a 52 inch LCD TV for less money than it would cost to pack and ship it when you move to a new apartment a year later.

To appreciate the opportunities that await you we will tell you the HISTORY of this exciting opportunity and with a small investment on your part, we will TimeSpurt® you back to the year 2009 so that you can grab your share of the riches/fame/fortune that you could have had if only you had been paying attention.

The year is 2010, a non-descript year with no significant music, no arts, no politics, every thing was calm.
Now Mr. Sinister steps into the picture. He has hired a consultant that knows the nuances of the "WarrenEffect". (This was a scenario published way back in 2008 about how to control the world and the author was universally ridiculed.)
Here is how we think the scenario would have worked:
To accomplish world domination you start with most of the products produced in a manufacturing country that is exceptionally friendly with a consumer country that imports a lot of products. The "WarrenEffect" suggested that someone could develop a long range plan. A ridiculous example using two countries that always had a wonderful relationship was used so that nobody was insulted: Let's hypothetically say that China makes a lot of goods for a country like the USA.

Mr. Sinister has a powerful "Secret Service" that has the opportunity to pay a visit to every electronic manufacturer that they can find. These "representatives" of Lieutenant Sinister "suggests" that every company in China has to log all of the serial numbers of each item that they make "for demographic purposes". They "must" insert this little memory dongle once into every item before it is packed so that each serial number can be logged.
Instead of actually reading each serial number, the dongle actually loads a virus into each unit. This virus is designed to stay dormant until April 1st, 2012.
On the scheduled day of awakening, every electronic device that is attached to the Internet is controlled by a team of "supporters" of Colonel Sinister that work at a single control room at an undisclosed location, who can pretty much define what everyone is going to do.
There are subtle changes at first: The TV shows that you watch are carefully screened by General Sinister to remove all objectionable subject matter.
There is a new "transfer fee" for ALL monetary transactions.
The DieBold ATMs had been sending the paper money tracking data [see Note 1] to General Sinister for the past several years already, and of course, the credit card and "customer discount" cards have been sending in tracking information for a decade.
After about a year of background tracking to build up a good database of everybody, a press release will be sent to Fox News announcing that all other news outlets and newspapers (except for Fox News, of course) are to cease operations immediately.
Some other subtle things would change.
Coffee shops knew what type of coffee you liked and had it ready when you arrived.
Our electronic picture frames seemed to only show photos of Emperor Sinister playing with his cute little Beagallator (the extremely popular designer beagle/alligator mix).
Our toasters will only toast bread Extra Dark because that is how the Emperor wants it done.
There were no more speeding tickets because the cars would not drive faster than allowed.
There was a terrific benefit for ambulances because ALL cars would automatically move over to clear a path, this was a side effect of the 'motorcade alert' that was set up to simplify travel for politicians.
Everybody woke up in time to make it to work on time.
Telephone calls by terrorists, suspected terrorists, potential terrorists, people seeking information about terrorists and all members of their family tree were automatically monitored.
Some people did not like the changes, but most citizens enjoyed the security of not having any enemies.

It would be 8 years before it was figured out how Master Sinister had gained so much power, but it turns out that it was iPods, laptops, televisions, alarm clocks, GPS, automobiles, telephones, the new all-electronic remotely operated micro personal chainsaws (with Designer names) that everyone went ga-ga about in 2009, and every other "must have" item that we all had.
The "WarrenEffect" had been publicised in 2008 by an insignificant toad who wanted his odd name to live on in infamy, but he did raise the notion that the incidents of viruses being found on Digital Photo Frames and other consumer goods could progress from being an "accident" to being a "plan" [cue sinister music].
At the time, viruses were accidentally being loaded into brand-name consumer goods by the passing of "electronic saliva" during casual contact between different types of electronics. The problem spread a bit, until you had to actually type in your social security number and bank account passwords before you could activate your child's "Yank and Talk, gas powered pointy thing" educational play system. The US government quickly enacted the "Whig Act" to strengthen the previous "Patriot Act of 2001" and "Tory Act of 2008" which made the virus problem completely go away by outlawing any lawsuits, complaining, or whining in order to protect National Security.

The Stage was set for young Mr. Sinister to control the world with a single program virus [with the cryptic codename: wwstrikesback.exe] to become the all powerful "Grand Poobah his Excellency" that he is today.

[Message Interruption]
It's noon, remember to turn to Blog #7734 for today's story time, Or we will switch your device for you.

After story time, be sure to check out some more history at: Viruses Come Pre-Installed

[Message resumes at 12:59pm] "and we will continue with the message already in progress..."

So through the magic of TimeSpurt® you can go back to the year 2009 and armed with this knowledge, you can play a role in the changing of the world. Upon full payment of $37,989.99USD we will arrange your trip for you including accommodations near the location in China of your choosing and we will include a FREE memory stick with our exclusive ViraMaticUcontrl software already installed!
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Note 1: ATM's made by DieBold sent in your fingerprint data to the General that was gleaned by sorting the majority of prints on the paper money that you have deposited or withdrawn.
Tracking CASH vs credit cards presented a difficult challenge to the designers at DieBold, but they patented a process called Securitrac® which allows the ATMs to match and log the serial numbers on the cash with who withdrew the money. The same system scanned all cash transactions at all cash registers and banks and it supplies real-time reports of where anyone spends cash anywhere. This system was created in response to the public outcry that was raised when CASH transactions were going to be outlawed by the Tory Security Act. It was determined that the system only needed to lift the prints off of five different bills collected from any source as long as the "subject" had handled the particular bill at any time, with a 97% accuracy. Within four years Halliburton Corp has collected the fingerprints from more than 72% of the world population, which is 5% better than projected when awarded the contract. The Tory Security Act was modified to allow CASH transactions to continue.

You must read Wally, now!

Just in case you haven't been around for a while, I am repeating this one because I REALLY want you to read it and I am afraid that you may give up before you get to Wally my pal.

Here is another Holiday reminder from

our favorite furry friend.
.
Wally the Wolverine.

Barrington Bunny

A Christmas Story that Beth and I used to look forward to hearing on the radio every year.

Barrington Bunny

Wally the Wolverine

Here is another Holiday reminder from our favorite furry friend.

.

Wally the Wolverine.

The goat farmer.

The goat farmer needed supplies. He had bought one of those fancy label printers to keep track of his inventory.
He was the proprietor of a modern state of the art business that could boast of customers that were some of the biggest names in goat farming.
This label printer was the perfect addition so that those little vials could be tracked, sorted and shipped without errors. The old technique of hand-writing the labels caused errors, tied up employees whose hands could be doing more important things, and didn't convey the image of a modern operation like he was running.
He was happy with the printer, felt that the prices for the ink and labels were reasonable, but there was a question about the taxes.
How come he was being charged a sales tax on his ink and labels?

The farmer was transferred to the tax department. Betty would get to the bottom of this.
“OK, so what is your product?” Betty asked.

“Goat sperm” the farmer said.
“Excuse me, did you say goat... sperm?”

“Yep, I'm the largest producer of goat sperm in the tri-state area.”

Betty regrouped. She would have liked to pass this research off to somebody/ANYbody else, but no one was available. Act calm, stay in control... “Oh? And how large would that be?”

“We ship twelve hundred units a day” the farmer said proudly.

“My my, that sounds big all right.” Betty said, sounding as knowledgeable as she could, “and you use our machine for what?”

“To label the vials.” The farmer replied “We keep track of the sire, the date of the collection, and the sample number.”

Betty kept thinking 'twelve hundred per day', 'twelve hundred per day'. She was having trouble wrapping her brain around that. “You 'milk' one thousand two hundred goats per day?” She paused, “is 'milk' the correct word?”

“You can use that” he chuckled, “I'll know what you mean.” “How come I'm paying taxes on labels that are for use in my plant, these supplies should be exempt!”.

Betty assured the farmer that she would contact his states' tax department.
Betty called the correct department and went through the entire dilemma with them. The woman on the other end was sympathetic to the difficulties of sorting through this, but they worked out the details between them based on what they understood of the process. Armed with this information she felt that she was better prepared to deal with the farmer without being embarrassed.

She called the farmer and told him “You may be eligible for an exemption based on where in your process you use your labels.” “I have to know if these labels are used for the vials that are shipped to the customer or if they are used for storage or inventory.” “It makes a difference in your state whether the labels are for marking 'per goat' or 'per customer'.
Betty was pulling it off. She was professional, in control...

The farmer said “Well I don't know exactly where you draw the line?”.

Betty suddenly felt that she might be forced into delving into the details. She popped up to look around her cubicle to make sure that no one was approaching.
She crouched over so she could talk quietly into the phone. “It makes a difference WHEN you put the label on the product.”

The farmer was still talking at the same volume but Betty was sure that he was yelling loud enough so that everyone in the other cubicles could hear.

He said “you mean the vials of sperm?”

Betty waited for “sperm” to stop echoing around the office. EVERYBODY heard that, didn't they? “yesssss” she hissed. “I mean the vials of...”
“product”. Deep breath. Keep going. “At what stage of the process do you affix the label?”

The farmer said “we print em out as we need em so they don't get mixed up.” “Each goat has a bar code on his collar and the label is printed to match.”

Betty lowered her head even lower so that the phone was clunking against the keyboard
“No no, I mean do you label each batch or is each vial kept separate?” she said in a very low voice.

“I told you, twelve hundred per day.” he said. After Betty's disappearing volume, the farmer's voice sounded like it was booming on a speaker phone. “Twelve hundred per day means twelve hundred glass vials, twelve hundred labels, and of course, twelve hundred goats.” “You can't really do this without the goats now, could you?”

Silence. Betty was waiting for the echoes to stop.

“Could you?” “Hello Betty?”

“Yes... I'm here....”

“I was saying you need twelve hundred goats, did you hear that?”

“Yes, I heard it.” She wanted this conversation to end.

He continued “so if I'm labeling twelve hundred vials and I freeze them, and I also ship twelve hundred every day, I doesn't matter whether a vial was collected today, yesterday, or two months ago. I don't care and I don't think the state should care either.”

Betty offered “the way that they explained it to me, is that it makes a difference whether the bottles are labeled before or after the collection machine”.

Now it was time for the farmer to pause “What kinda machine?”

“You know... the 'milking' machine.”

“Honey, we ain't milking them, these are BOY goats!”

Betty blushed and drove her chin down on the M key of her keyboard and only lifted it to stop the beeping. “I know that!”. “I mean the machine that collects the sperm from the twelve hundred goats per day”.

The farmer laughed. “Honey, nobody sells a machine to do that!”

Betty said "Okay, I will have to get back to you... Thank you for calling, we will have to do a little more research".

Then she stood up, adjusted her blouse, and went out for a walk. This was a call she would have to finish another day.

I wrote this story this particular week because I am spending some time with the person that originally told me this story several years ago. I wanted to have the facts checked. The dialog is not exact but it has been confirmed that this is how it happened, more or less. I was also told that Betty had just started this job when this happened. She had plenty of tax experience but not very much goat experience.

Some re-runs before the fall season starts...

I have typed in a short story that I wrote a while ago. It is totally unrelated to our trip, but I always liked this one. I recently discovered a notebook that I thought had been destroyed when Brae Mar burned down. Most of my writing was stored there because that is where I wrote most of my stuff. I always seemed to write when on vacation and could never force it when I was at home. Some of my favorite stuff burned up, but I recently found this notebook so I will toss in a few reruns when I can.

They should be classified as fiction, for you folks that classify things. I just lump it all in a group called Short Stories. I have always liked reading short stories because you don't ever need to be afraid to invest yourself fully into them because there is no need to commit to a dreadfully long book if you don't like the way the story is going. If you don't like it, it ends. If you DO like it, then the experience is yours. Many novels only leave you with a few nuggets that you keep anyway.


I have taken a lot of notes and photos on this trip so far. I am planning to use these to spark the many stories that are stacking up in my arms right now, just waiting to leap out of my fingertips into the computer. We will be spending the winter in Florida at one of D&L's houses (because it's free), and I am hoping to do a lot of writing there. It is therapy for me. Beth is going to learn how to handle the photos and will be doing that half of the job.

Until then... well even after then, for that matter... my stories will not be in the order of our trip, they will be in the order that they come bubbling out. Likewise for the photos.

Well here is your first re-run: The Rock Hound

The Rock Hound

It was not your normal looking dog. Short, stocky, spotted. His parents must have been a dalmatian and a basset. There wasn't much difference between standing up and sitting down but he seemed to be sitting down most of the time, I think.

He would sit there panting and enjoying the pats while vaguely looking at the waves. He's a neat dog too! Almost no drool or mess, even with that tongue hanging out that far. Probably doesn't shed much either. Pretty Cool Dog. Kinda dog I'd like to take home. We sat there looking down at the waves together. Joggers slogging by; this dog doing all the panting for them. Imagine what this dog would sound like if he was doing anything physical. Pretty Cool Dog. He just watches the waves with me; he doesn't even turn his head for early morning birds or joggers. He's with me. He could be sitting anywhere watching the waves but he's sitting her getting slow pats while I'm quickly becoming his “new best friend”.

I figure out why he seems so familiar to me. It's his teeth. His teeth are little short stumpy things sort of like his legs. No long fangs on this sawed-off carnivore, nope, just short little nubs. I have the same kind of teeth; just like everyone on my Father's side of the family. My Grandfather, Uncles, and some of my cousins have had those same type of teeth. Luckily we all had long legs and no spots, but those floppy ears would have been fun in a convertible.
This dog is just like family. I wonder if this dog's owners know that this dog has kin out there.
We watch more waves. I begin to wonder if maybe this dog strolls out here every morning. How many mornings does he find a “new best friend” to share the morning with.

Suddenly, my spotted pal pulls in his long tongue, and stands up. The reason that I knew he was standing was because his body seemed to get even longer and his tail was now off the concrete. He takes a few steps forward to the front edge of the sidewalk where the beach rocks are and he picks up a gray 3 inch specimen and slowly plods away. I watched my little buddy hike along carrying his rock. I guess he couldn't say good-bye with a mouthful like that. I wasn't sure, but it looked like he stopped at the far end of the sidewalk to sniff something, only for a moment. He accidentally dropped his rock and I didn't see him pick it up again. He turned left and headed home.

I wanted to run down and meet my dog the next day, but i had promised someone that I would meet then for breakfast. As we sat at a table on the sidewalk near the beach I was able to watch my buddy walk up and around the same path he had the day before, but this time there was no tourist to stop and pat him. Just joggers and fog.
I was just sitting there watching him slowly trot along until my breakfast companion commented on “that dog”. I said “Oh yeah, I didn't even see him”.

He trotted up and around the loop right past the place where we had sat the day before and kept going down the sidewalk until he got to the spot where he had stopped to sniff something the day before. He sat down. He didn't bend over to smell anything, he just seemed to be looking at something. He sat there for a very long time, his ears swaying in the sea breeze. The dog eventually extended himself again, continued on, turned left and was gone. After breakfast I went over to his spot and instead of finding a beach rose or some other sniffable object, there were several dozen rocks; all of them about 3 inches across but of no particular shape. Most of them were gray, as were almost all of the rocks on the beach.

I looked at this pile of rocks for a while before I went back to the cottage.

The next morning I woke up a little late and had to hurry down to meet my dog. “He has already gone around the top of the loop, I'd better hurry.” I came over the crest of the next small hill and slowed down. It was a clear warm morning on the beach and there were lots of walkers. My dog was sitting there and somebody was sitting next to him. Patting him. They were watching the waves. I sat on a park bench and watched them. They sat there together while I watched. Slow pats and dog pants.

I was getting ready to leave when he got up. I sat back on my bench as I saw him snoop around, find a rock and trot down the sidewalk away from today's friend with his prize. When he got near the end of the sidewalk he didn't sit and think like he did yesterday, he just dropped his rock in his memory pile and kept trotting.
A smart dog looking very proud of himself.

_____________________________________

ww, Short Sands, York Beach, 6/28/93