Man Martin's Blog, page 136

Shocker! Bible May Contain Inaccuracies!

Illustration of Biblical Patriarch
Being Thrown by Wild CamelThe National Geographic reports that domesticated camels did not come to Israel until 930 BCE, centuries later than the Bible claims.  Next they'll be claiming all the animals of the world could not possibly fit onto a single boat.  What The National Geographic fails to consider is that if the ancient Hebrews didn't have domesticated camels, perhaps they had undomesticated ones.  We're talking wild camels, people.

Consider this passage from Genesis 24:

11 And he (Abraham) made his camels kneel without the city by a well of water at the time of evening even at the time that women go out to draw water. 12. And he spake unto the camels saying, "Settle thee down.  Settle thee down, I sayeth.  Settle." And he smote the camels, but they would not settle. 13. And the women came out for it was time to draw water, and they were sore afraid.  And Abraham spake unto them saying, "Be thou not afraid, for the camels can sense fear."14. And all the while did he smite the camels and tell them to settle but the camels would not settle for the LORD had hardened their hearts.  15. And one of the women spake to Abraham saying, "What meanest thou bringing these things here to the well where we must draw water?  Hast thou lost thy mind?  Get them hence, for that one lookst as if he bites."  16. And all this while did Abraham smite his camels and tell them to settle, but it availed not.  17. And Abraham replied unto the woman saying, "Be not afraid.  The camels shall not bite provided thou dost not provoke them with any sudden movements or noises."  18. But notwithstanding that Abraham smote them and told them to settle, the camels would not settle for the LORD had hardened their hearts.  19. And far from settling the camels were stirred up in their wrath, for there was a noise, and one of the camels bit one of the women, and there were many lawsuits threatened.  20. And Abraham fled from thence, saying "Verily, I believe these things are more trouble than they are worth."

So does this prove the Biblical patriarchs were using undomesticated camels?  I merely present the facts and allow them to speak for themselves.

You Can't Always Get What You Want

For Some Reason, The More I Try to
Draw Mick Jagger More, The More
He Looks Like Mick Jagger LessI was listening to the old Rolling Stones song the other day, "You Can't Always Get What You Want," and you know, it's true.  For example, I want a private jet.  Can I get it?  No way!  Also, I want some chocolate covered cherries.  I can't get those either.  Well, I could get them, but I'd have to drive to the store.  That would mean I'd have to put on pants.

That Mick Jagger was pretty smart coming up with a song like that, because as far as I can make out, he always go what he wanted.  For example, Bianca.  Wanted her.  Got her.  Bam.  Then he wanted Jerry Hall.  Got her too.  Bam.  Then he wanted a hundred million.  Got that.  Bam.  Two hundred more million.  Got it.  Double Bam.  Other people, though, they didn't always get what they want. Like, I bet Jerry Hall wanted to be called something else than that stupid boy's name that sounds like a game show host.  But did she get it?  No, she did not.  Anti-Bam.

Of course, you can't always get what you don't what either, but Mick didn't think of that.  Like I definitely don't want to be abducted and anally probed by aliens.  And I'm not going to get it, either.  I don't want Dutch Elm disease, and I won't get that.

There's also things that I don't want and I don't not want either, but I still won't be able to get.  Like a refrigerator with a window on it so I can check if the light goes out when I close the door.  I don't want something like that, but getting it wouldn't ruin my life, either.  I'd be like, meh.  So that's something in the category of things I don't really care about one way or the other, but I'm still not going to get.

Mick Jagger should rewrite the lyrics:

You can't always get what you want,
You also can't always get what you don't want,
And you can't always get what you don't particularly care about one way or the other,
But if you try some times, you just might find
You get what you need!

But will he?  No.

Simple Steps to Retirement

For Some Reason These Articles
Always Feature Pictures of
Busty Women.  I Do Not Know
Why This Is.Saving for retirement?  It's not too late.  Experts say you can wait all the way until the eighth grade to start building your retirement fund, provided you don't mind working till you're seventy-five.  Still, it's best to start as soon as possible.

You can make it easier by following these simple suggestions.

1 Cut Down on Living Expenses: Look around your house or apartment and notice all the things you could do without.  For example, you have a house or apartment.  What's up with that?  You have a perfectly good car too, don't you?  That's just wasted space.  Living in your car is not only cheap and comfortable, it's a time saver when it comes to the morning commute.  Using public restrooms also saves on the water bill.  It's a win-win.

Are you still wasting food?  Did you know the average American throws away enough food each day to feed a third-world family for a week?  Since you're living in your car, keep an eye when neighbors take out the trash.

2. Increase Your Income:  An additional part-time job can make a big difference to your retirement account.  Robbing banks or working as a professional hit man just a few hours a week can be a real money-maker plus adding a little variety to the same old nine-to-five.  Some people are able to turn their hobbies into extra income, this way you have fun and make money while you're doing it!  It's helpful if you have hobbies such as Petrochemical Engineering or Hedge Fund Management, but Hobby Cardiovascular Surgeons and Senior Sales Executives do pretty well too,

3. Adjust Your Expectations:  Maybe it's unrealistic to think you'll retire at 59.  Or 65.  Or at all.  When you get right down to it, working until you die may be what nature and the free market intended.  Sometimes the best thing is just to learn to live without hope.

Paul's Final Letter to the Corinthians

Dear Corinthians,

How are you?  I am fine.  The weather here in Damascus is nice, but a little dry.  They say there'll be rain soon, but I don't know.  How is the weather in Corinth?

I have written you two letters and still have not heard back from you.  Is something wrong?  Frankly, my feelings are a little hurt.  It doesn't have to be a long letter, just a postcard would be nice.  I wrote just one letter to the Galatians, and now they write me all the time.  Just the other day, in fact, I got a really nice birthday card from the Galatians.  I bet you didn't even know it was my birthday, did you?  You would have if you wrote more often.  I work my fingers down to the knuckles writing these wonderful long letters and I don't hear word one back from you.

I am sure none of your friends get such nice letters as you do.  I bet they wish they had someone like me who would take time out of his busy day to write.  I showed the letters I'd written to my friend Timothy before I sent them.  He said they were very nice letters.

Maybe you don't mean any harm, but letter-writing is a two-way street.  It doesn't work if one side does all the writing and the other side never writes at all.  Giving a reply is just common courtesy, is all.  Well, that's it.  If you don't send an answer back this time, don't expect any more letters from me.

Yours Truly,

Paul the Apostle

So It's Come to This

If there's one thing I regret - and there are at least that many - it's that I haven't paid closer attention to the winter Olympics.  If I had, I've have something hi-LAR-ious to write about now, instead of desperately trying to fake it, which is what I'm doing.

For example, there's Putin without a shirt.  Why is it I keep seeing this picture?  Whatever's going on, it's clearly side-splitting, but I haven't been paying attention, so I haven't got a clue.












And who is this woman and why is she so upset?  Again, lots of potential humor-stuff wasted on yours truly.






And is it true there are feral dogs roaming the Olympic grounds?  If so, yet more risible material gone to waste.






So what am I reduced to?  Just this re-tread of a joke.

Putin is reading a letter, "Oh-oh-oh-oh..."

"You don't have to read that part, sir," says an assistant, "that's just the Olympic symbol."

Today is February 8th. You Have Been Warned.

Today is February 8.  You have been warned.

There are exactly six days remaining until Valentine's Day.

There is no need to be caught unprepared, gentlemen.  Yes, I was once like the rest of you - rushing into the CVS at the last minute to buy a dozen roses, a card, and a box of chocolates.

But no more

I've had everything ready for months!

Of course, when I went shopping, they didn't have any Valentine's cards, per se, so I had to cross out "Hanukkah" and write "Valentine's" on one.

But I've already got the roses.  I brought them in December and hid them in a basement closet.  They're gorgeous.

And she'll never find the box of chocolates I've had for weeks now, because they're hidden in the trunk of my car, which I drive to work everyday and park in a sunny parking lot.

This Valentine's Day is going to be different.

The Scapegoat Speaks

I'm a scapegoat.

No, not a figure-of-speech metaphorical scapegoat, an actual baa-baa, horns-on-my-head, funny-little-beard, eats-just-about-anything scapegoat.

A few days ago, in the village where I came from, there was a big ceremony, and this priest brings me up, and all the people start putting their sins on me.  Actually, that part wasn't so bad.  It was kind of like being petted, and goats don't mind being petted, at least I didn't mind.  And the whole time this priest was saying, you know, mumbo-jumbo, jumbo-mumbo, all about how all the adultery, thievery, dishonesty, and guilt was going out of the people and into the goat.  (That's me.)

Then when everyone was done, the priest said some more jumbo-mumbo, mumbo-jumbo, and that's when the people went crazy!  They started throwing sticks and rocks at me, screaming and shouting, like I said, crazy.  Well, I took off running, and they chased me!  I could hear them behind me all the way until I got to the outskirts of the village, and I just kept on running until I got to the wilderness, which is where I live now.

Goats run pretty fast when they want to, but once I got away, I got a funny feeling they weren't really trying to catch me.  They just wanted me out.  Which kind of hurt my feelings, but I've gotten over it.  The thing is, when you make a scapegoat, you can't ever forgive him.  You can't ever say, "Come back, little goat.  It's okay now."  If those villagers would just say to each other, "I'm an adulterer, my bad," or "I just can't stop thieving.  Maybe I need to join a support group," everything would be over and done with.  Instead they have to get a new goat every year.  If you say you're sorry, you're done; if you make a scapegoat, it's forever.

Anyway, the only bad part of being a scapegoat is the being chased out part.  Once you're in the wilderness, it's pretty cool.  You tell the other goats you're a scapegoat, and they're like, "What's that?"  Unless you tell another former scapegoat, in which case, he understands.

So I'm going to stay in the wilderness, thank you.  That village was full of adulterers, thieves, and liars anyway.  Besides which, I've seen how they treat goats.

Animal Control Call

Hello, Animal Control?  I believe I have an ocelot in my closet.
...
Ocelot.  In my closet.
...
OH as in Orangutan.  CEE as in CHEETAH.  EE as in EMU.  EL as in LEMUR.  OH as in Ocelot.  TEE as in tapir.  Ocelot.  He's in my closet.  Can you dispatch someone right away?
...
An ocelot.  It's like a small leopard.  They're native to South America.  Please hurry.  My leather pants are in that closet.
...
I don't know.  I suppose he must've slipped in while we were mixing frozen marga...  Look, is this really necessary?  The point is, he's in there now, and he's making a wreck of my wardrobe.
...
Yes, normally they live in South America but there's one in my closet right now.  That's the thing that matters.
...
Alright, I don't care for your attitude, lady.  Give me your badge number or whatever, I want to speak to your supervisor.
...
Okay, okay, okay, I'm sorry.  The fact is, it's my ocelot.  He's a pet, but he's incorrigible.  I forgot how angry he gets when he hears the blender.  Please hurry.  He's getting into my girlfriend's Dior.
...
Yes, yes, I know.  It's stupid having an exotic pet.  I can see that now.
...
Thank you, thank you, thank you.  I'm in the big house at the corner of Spruce and Pine, the one with the monkey-bar set and all the chimpanzees.  You can't miss it.  Just listen for the sound of the screeching peacocks.  And when the animal control guys get here, tell them to watch out for the crocodile, he hasn't had his breakfast yet.
...
Hello?  Hello?

It's Over Now. Whatever It Was.

Whatever it was, it's over now.

For weeks I heard people talking excitedly about this approaching confrontation.  I, mercifully, did not understand.  Sometimes people would ask me whether I preferred the seahawks or the broncos.  Then, seeing the dazed and puzzled look in my eye, they would sidle away.

It's hard to imagine containing seahawks and broncos into the same confined space, leave alone provoke them to go at each other.  What would the point of it be?  What would it prove?

Then the other day, I heard someone expressing surprise and disgust that the seahawks had won.  I myself was astonished.  How could a seahawk, which clearly is some kind of bird, overcome a bronco, which I believe is a pony or else possibly a bull.  Did the bronco include the cowboy?  If so, the defeat was not only surprising, but inexplicable.  Perhaps the bronco was so annoyed by the cowboy it did not guard against seahawks darting down from the sky to peck at its eyes.  In any case, a bronco would have a hard time inducing a seahawk to get under its feet where it could stomp it - its chief defensive strategy - or make it keep still long enough to gore and head-butt it.  The seahawks' lack of physical strength and body mass would be made up for by its agility and speed.  That must account for it.  Surely this contest wasn't held on the seahawks' home turf, ie the sea; that would make the outcome such a foregone conclusion that the whole spectacle would be an utter waste of time.

Anyway, it's over now.  Whatever it was.

So What is Philosophy Anyways, And Why Should I Give a Hoot

The turtle is resting on the back of another turtle,
which in turn rests on the back of another turtle.
As Bertrand Russell said, "From there on down,
it's all turtles."Philosophy comes from Greek words meaning, "If you love wisdom so much, how come you're not rich?"  These and other sorts of questions are what philosophers sit around mulling all day, making remarks such as "If a tree falls in a forest it doesn't make a sound?"  Which begs the question, if philosophers make remarks like that, do they get invited to any cocktail parties?  Basically, philosophy tackles all human and nonhuman knowledge, everything that is knowable, unknowable, plus stuff we're just guessing at.  Hence, philosophy is divided into four subdivisions, otherwise the workload would just be intolerable.

AESTHETICS: This is the philosophy of what beauty means.  If you show me a painting and say, "That's beautiful," and I say, "Are you kidding?  Ugh."  We're having a philosophical discussion.  Maybe you'll point out the painting cost you fifteen thousand dollars, and I'll say, I think a pile of money is a whole lot more beautiful than that painting.  Think about it.  Who doesn't like looking at money?

ETHICS: This is the philosophy of right behavior.  For example, some people say if someone hits you on the cheek, you should turn your other cheek and let him hit you on that one, too.  Others say, it's permissible in such a situation to hit the other person on his cheek and let him see how he likes it.  Still others say, there are times when you might not wait to be hit, but go ahead and hit his cheek before he gets a punch in.  This is called a preemptive strike.  Then there are others who skip the cheek altogether and go right for the groin.  When people are discussing the philosophy of ethics, we call it politics.

EPISTEMOLOGY:  If you don't know what this means, that's very ironic because it's the philosophy of what is knowable.  Epistemologists agree that nothing is certain.  We can be certain of this because...  Let me start over.  The idea is, it's impossible to know anything, and the way you know this is...  Alright, look.  Epistemologists say they're incapable of knowing anything.  Come to think of it, why should we bother with them?  By their own admission they're a bunch of dumb asses.

METAPHYSICS: This is the most popular branch of philosophy, although it still won't help you get a job.  Metaphysics is the study of the fundamental nature of the universe, what is.  Socrates once said "I never metaphysics I didn't like," only he said it in Greek, so no one got it, and it wasn't until years later we understood what he was talking about.  Everyone who studies philosophy wants to go into metaphysics but spots are limited and it's a dog-eat-dog competition.   Ancients used to believe the word sat on the back of a giant turtle.  Now we know that we are in empty space surrounded by billions upon billions of stars slowly burning themselves into extinction, which kind of makes you long for the turtle.