Defies gravity
Can spit really far
Almost touch my toes
Can cut a fly's legs off with a beer cap from 20 paces
Know how to say useless stuff and prattle on in a dozen languages
Don't know when to shut up
Favorite Quotes
To be for or against the Plague, it's much the same thing.
Fiddledee, how a body shure do get around - just 2 weeks ago I was in Mississippi and now I'm all the way to Tennessee...
Eat or Be Eaten
Better to be pissed off than pissed on.
Biography
Born in swaddling clothes (designer, of course) at the confluence of big waters, my first recorded words were "Dad, can I have the keys to the car?" Raised a Southern Pedestrian, my musical talents were recognized at an early age, leading to my being exiled to the shed out back with a stack of books that became my eddykayshun - advanced readin', writin' & ritmytick, creating a major quandary of "what will I do, oh what will I do?" (Gunslinger)
As an old black man advised in song, "You Gotta Move", so move I did, traveling the byways sideways even a lot of driveways, picking up sticks and psychological tics, even movin' to Beverlee through a quaint misunderstanding of the seriousness of TV series, until finally I blew up so big the carry nation incarnation tarnation couldn't hold me no more, so I fixed my sights on yonder sitar, and like Queequeg and Paul Bowles and one of those abducted kids by the Pied Piper of Hamelin, I ventured forth to the larger world, pickin' and grinnin', doin' me some reckonin' and naughts from naughts, occasionally rightin', building me some buildings and wiring and just trying to understand the babble comin' out of people's mouths and heads, I finally ended up in what Rummy quaintly calls "New Europe", which ain't so new from what I sees, but that pit in my stomach from lack-of-moving-sickness finally disappeared, and instead I sit behind a whopping big desk stacked with missives from all the chiefs with big whampum around the world telling me "what's going on". Which seems like a load of boolshit to me, but I guess that's what keeps me busy and entertained now, separatin' the weeds from the chapstick.
So my name is Perry Keys, or Peracles to you, and since my mammy always said, "say please and thank you", I added the please, but I'm holdin' back on that thankee until I feel you've earned it. But do welcome, and I hope we's a gonna have a real good time. It all starts with, "I wuz born a poor young white chile livin' in the South..." and we cycle through again, like Nietzsche and his infernal regurgence. So enjoy, and let's spin a spell...
Bernie's always been math challenged, and his wishful "we have to do very very well in California" understates matters significantly. To win the pledged vote, Hillary needs 2026 delegates (1/2 of 4051 + 1). Which means 257 of the remaining 781 pledge delegates or 32.9% - fewer than 1/3. That's not just "very very well" - that's deliriously fantastical, based on any primary to date, along with current polls, the most optimistic for Sanders putting Hillary 2% ahead, the worse one for him showing Hillary with an 18% lead.
Scanning RealClearPolitics, they've got the latest poll up from PPIC, showing Hillary up by only 2%, an improvement from 2 1/2 months ago when she led by 7%. Except nobody thought he was within 7% back in March, except for the most fiercely devoted. PPIC chose 552 likely voters - 2/3 to 1/3 of the typical poll.
We've found out all sorts of important info from Hillary mails, such as some staffer misspelled Rafik "Rasik" and that Hillary was going to meet Kissinger for a dinner, the one that spawned all the renewed war criminal-association frenzy. And a hodgepodge about Libya and her various meetings & assessments. Sadly, we still don't have Colin Powell's emails for comparison, to see how much he knowingly lied and bamboozled in his UN speech nor other hunt-for-yellowcake type deceptive events.
For women, perceptions are truths. Forget first impressions - women are impressing all the time. It's not what actually exists - it's what appears to be true, even for a fleeting moment. And it's holistic - any piece in disarray destroys the totality. It's not "you look good, but..." It's "did you see that ..." That's why women use mirrors. One slip-up and it's game over.
I grew up in the shadow of the Peace Corps ethic, the rather noble and idealistic idea that we could help the rest of the world by running around and sharing our knowledge. My parents were less starstruck - they regularly remarked how much more good Albert Schweitzer might have done if he'd stayed home and made lots of money to send there instead. Well, we now know many of our "experts" were naïve kids less skilled than their hosts, and the horror stories of how money in the 3rd world can just disappear like water into sand.
Prince died recently, apparently in a lot of pain due to decades of hard dance moves on-stage that left his joints in shambles (but still in better shape than mine could ever dream of).
Prince's demise came not from the joints, but from painkillers. But ironically for the fervently anti-drugs star is that his Jehovah's Witness religion prevented him from choosing the more common surgeries that would have likely lessened his pain. Why? The church's objection to "blood transfusions."
Should Jehovah's Witnesses object to their health plans paying for their employees' blood transfusions, it's hard to see this being more objectionable than not paying for contraception - it's a core tenet of their religious belief, and with 1.2 million "publishers" and 2.5 memorial attendees in the US, roughly half the US Jewish population, they're large enough to be taken seriously.