Black Humor is Funny Too

Black humor is humor … true. A blitzkrieg of the King’s and pidgin English

upon a balkanized globe’s dialogues has been too often nightmarish!

After Greek, English is only the world’s second lingua franca. A rich vocabulary

and easy rhymes are at home in song … psalm … prose … or poetry.

The richest tongue (by word count) owes its extreme wealth to fortuitously heavy

borrowing from other tongues … and the quirks of His timing … uncanny.

And now the Islamic State taunts and haunts Twitter from the relative safety

of a cybernetic perch, high atop … the lofty tree … of precious liberty.

To wit: With more English-speaking Chinese than there are Americans probably,

there are more Chinese than American wits, knowing a twit, from a tweet.

Tweet is commonly understood, but twit? Twits are taunts. To twit is to titter

or taunt. Hmm; curiously, our host … is Twitter … not Tweeter.

Why Twitter and not Tweeter, albeit, an intriguing riddle, isn’t the point. It’s the truth

of black humor that makes black humor … bruise … and humor, too!

Violence Rules … Violently

What’s happening? Events are spiraling out of sustainable control. Violence does rule; and (s)he, without discrimination, does … rule rudely.

Violence rules; passively, as in cyber warfare, or actually, as in three-dimensional weapons(handguns, printed, not manufactured), unlike, as in … our previous … nonfictions.

What’s happening? Events are spiraling frenetically (as if algorithmically) out of control. Violence rules; dual modalities, as if conspiring … to censor … our transcendence.

What’s happening? Nothing less than grand cosmic theatre by Him, The One and Only Master … of the Universes … He of many Names; He … that is … Father.

In Lieu of Resolutions … a Remarkable … Solution

What dynamic might play out were a laughter-fueled human wave to and from spacemen to transform the human fabric in the aftermath … of such radical … action?

That is to say, what profoundly transformative vectors might hopefully transpire if only we were resolute enough to explore the possibility inherent … in such a … game-changer?

What if we dared … to all laugh at once? That we could realize such a mind-boggling proposition in juxtaposition with ongoing Spacelab missions is just … on the cake … icing.

A recent documentary provided a tantalizing clue. In it, Dr. Sanjay Gupta, the renowned physician made the following … astonishing … declaration:

Paraphrasing now, he declared that, in effect, the body can’t tell fake laughter from laughter, genuine. Either, and/or both, spur of … serotonin … production.

For might not then, a wave of humanity wave to Spacelab crews to test a time-honored proposition:
That laughter … ever is … the best medicine.

In lieu of resolutions why not opt then, for a more common sense option; a more alchemical prescription … for the solution of everything … global.

The dynamic empowered by laughter, whether independent or concurrent … is serotonin-like.
Hormonal release of serotonin; a key to happiness; for release of orbiting and orbitals alike.

And if, accordingly, what’s good for the goose really is, what’s good as well, for the gander, then when a crew aloft and a crew below, wave, to one another … a bond attaches … then.

Ought we not, like Newton too, stand upon the shoulders of giants as we peer further than men commonly do. Ought we not too, see further? Stand upon the gigantic shoulders … of His men.

And if we peered further, would we not clearly see that it is of collective action that juggernauts are built, whether metaphysically, as here, or, as with NASA, more physically, time-warp driven … are.

For everything we’ve learned about operant conditioning evidences that were such an activity ever undertaken, energy therefrom might rightly mine … the richest vein … ever.

For, if because we consciously will it to be, something amazingly larger it becomes, wouldn’t we then more rightly give thanks … for our God-given … acumen?

No Shortage … of GIANTS

Isaac Newton: “Plato is my friend; Aristotle is my friend; but my greatest friend …
is truth.” The truth … shall ever be … our very best … friend.

Isaac Newton: “Truth is ever to be found in simplicity, and not in the multiplicity
and confusion of things.” Truth in simplicity … not in … complexity.

Isaac Newton: “If I have seen further it is by standing on the shoulders of Giants.”
In history’s tortuous course … no shortage … of giants.

There is simplicity in our complexity, and conversely, complexity in our simplicity;
let us stand upon the shoulders of giants … to simplify … our complexity.

Christmas Eve, 100 Years Ago, Today

My favorite Christmas story features not a child in a manger, three wise men,
angelic choirs and the Star of Bethlehem.
Rather, it stars the dirty, cold and heart-achingly tired men … the Germans,
and Brits … in trenches … inhuman.

The Christmas truce of 1914, when world-wide war was still new, was a series
of unofficial ceasefires along the Western Front before and after
Christmas of 1914. In the week leading up to the holiday, overt hostilities
waned as soldiers greeted, talked and played with one another.

Men from both sides ventured into no man’s land on Christmas Eve and
on Christmas Day to mingle and exchange food and
souvenirs. There were football games, joint burial ceremonies and
prisoner swaps; indeed, several meetings … in carol-singing … did end.

Read between the lines @chachomanopapa on Twitter and a surreal analog, chachomanopapa.wordpress.com. Poetic history, in tweets and a blog.
And read too, AN ATLAS, POETIC; would that the spirit of fraternity that God
would have for us … becomes us … and delivers us … from war’s … fog.

The Human Epic Itinerary: From Inner Space to Outer Space and then to … Cyber Space

The itinerary of the Human Epic: From inner space to outer space;
ironically, a fateful race, to a final stop … cyber space.

Read not, at your own risk, handwritten walls. From inner space
to outer space, to cyber space … we’ve raced.

From inner space to outer space, and through it, to cyber space … we’ve raced;
but cyber-space is wilder than previous frontiers … we’ve faced.

Read between the lines @chachomanopapa on Twitter and a surreal analog, chachomanopapa.wordpress.com. Poetic history, in tweets and a blog.

Today’s Prophesy: A CIA-Wrought … CALAMITY

It’s time for Global Truth and Reconciliation. Whether you think we can, or might
think we can’t … you’re absolutely … right!

And so … AN ATLAS … POETIC; prose, poetry, tragedy, comedy … and … in
a surreal redaction … prophesy; nonfiction … posing as … fiction.

Tragi-comedic poetry because for a message globally dramatic, only poetry,
emotes more eloquently, than one may ever aspire to … prosaically.

Accordingly, via poetry melding Ovid’s on inexorable change and Emily’s letter
to the world … chachomanopapa … would a planet … better.

Therein, in poems to the global citizenry on change, the nonfictional emissaries
of the nations ask, “Of what good to our communities are … nationalities?”

AN ATLAS … POETIC; a poetic and prosaic tragi-comedy … and … yes,
prophesy too … for prophesy often is … but educated guess.

Yes, prophesy is oft, but educated guess. The proof is in the pudding. Today’s
nonfictional prophesy: A firestorm over torture techniques of … the CIA.