Tag Archives: Saturday

Star Trek XI Alternate Ending: The Prime Timeline is Restored – YouTube

Star Trek XI Alternate Ending: The Prime Timeline is Restored – YouTube.

Back to the “real” or reel future. My preference is for the original series as it was, not as it has been re-imagined. It loses to much for me in the “re-translation.

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Boxed in

by DAVID E. BOOKER

I will not put her in a box
I will not use one with a lock.
I will not bury her beneath the blocks
nor stuff her in the freezer with the lox.
I will not ship her far, far away.
I said I won’t, no, no not today.
But my patience is running thin
and should she try it, yet once again…
I will not be responsible for what I do.
My five-year-old could do it to you, too.

Return postage not included.

Return postage not included.

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Filed under cartoon by author, poetry by author, Silly Saturday

Knee jerk reaction to “selfie”

Miley Cyrus did all she could do to promote twerking.

Miley Cyrus did all she could do to promote twerking.

After all the work Miley Cyrus did to get the folks at the Oxford English Dictionary to select “twerk” or “twerking” as the next new word to be added, the judges at this bastion of English word deification and definition thumbed their noses at her and instead selected the warped word “selfie” to be included.

Anyway owning a smart cell(ular) (tele)phone with a front facing camera (And what self-respecting, self-involved dummy DOESN’T have one?) can engage in selfie-ism. Just pose, point, and click. Upload to your Facebook page, your blog, your Pinterest spot, your Twitter account, and anywhere else your digital self resides.

Personally, I am disappointed.

With all the work I have done to promote such new words as obsurd (obscure and absurd), face tedious (where you spend so much time on social media, commenting and in other ways inserting yourself, you become face tedious. Certainly, too many selfies can make that happen.), flib, and elastation just to name a few, why the judges lowered themselves to consider works like twerk and selfie is beyond me.

I can only surmise that their selection was some knee jerk reaction.

In honor of that, here is my selfie. My knee selfie. Take that, Oxford English Dictionary.

My knee selfie.

My knee selfie.

The reason I have not been blogging as much recently is because I recently had knee surgery. I had six holes cut into my knee and fifteen to twenty alien bodies removed. I assure you, they were not from outer space nor in this country illegally. To recover I am supposed to apply ice to swollen area and lay down with my knee elevated above my heart as much as possible.

It’s a little hard to blog from a supine position. Additionally (though math is not my strong suit at this time), some of the medication I am taking renders me time and space challenged. Therefore and henceforth, to wit from this knee jerking wit, you will probably be reading fewer entries from me for a while.

But look on the bright side (or brighter side as the case may be), at least I won’t be out anywhere twerking. With a knee that swollen, I am not even able to shake a leg, let alone anything else.

Happy Holidays.

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The Blathering Idiot and the Big Orange Explosion

The blathering idiot was out in the country, exploring nature, enjoying the fall leaves changing color, trying to center himself, as one of his friends put it. The blathering idiot wasn’t sure what centering meant of what it would feel like once he had centered. The last time he had had anything to do with centers was back in kindergarten when the teacher would point out the different centers. The one for block. The one for stuffed animals. The one for books. He asked his friend if that was what centering would be like now?

His friend had smiled and told him, maybe, because he would feel as if everything had a place and everything was in its place.

So, the blathering idiot was wandering around the woods in the country, ignoring fences and property boundaries.

Good fences may make good neighbors – though somebody had told him the poem meant the opposite of that – but he was not looking for neighbors. He was on the quest for his center. He wanted to feel like he did in kindergarten when he had put the last block back I block center and the last book in the book center.

That was why he was surprised when he stumbled across men in military uniforms guarding an area out I the middle of day lily farm. He saw them and when they saw him, several of them yelled “Stop!” and then they pointed their weapons at him.

The blathering idiot raised his hands, just as he had seen in the movies. He next expected somebody to say, “You have the right to remain silent,” but nobody did.

Just as he was about to say something, there was a loud Phoop.

A few seconds later there was a loud thump and the blathering idiot saw a battered, old, splatter-painted VW microbus rock from side to side as something large and orange punched it in the side. The remains of the punch scattered everywhere.

A pumpkin?

His eyes moved toward his left and it was then he saw the large black propane tank with a long barrel curling up from it like an elephant’s trunk, except this one was attached with bolts and didn’t look like it was meant for somebody trying to center himself.

“Son, I bet you are wondering what that contraption is.” It was a general. At least the stars attached to his epaulettes indicated he was a high-ranking something.

The blathering idiot said nothing. If there was anything that running for the highest office in the land had taught him was that at times it’s best to say nothing.

“Well, son, word will be out soon enough I guess, so I might as well tell you, that way you get the skinny from the horse’s mouth.”

The next secret weapon.

The next secret weapon.


He took out a pipe and lit it, puffing a few times until smoke oozed out of his mouth. He blew the rest of the smoke out and turned his attention back to the blathering idiot.

“That over there, son, is a pumpkin cannon. But it’s not just any ol’ pumpkin cannon. It’s the nearly supersonic launching pumpkin cannon. Even on the low pressure setting, it can launch an eight pound pumpkin over a mile and strike the target with a force equal to 200 miles an hour at impact.

“And you know what the beauty of all this is? Why, it’s all made with off the shelf technology and off the shelf materials. We can turn out thousands of them, tens of thousands, maybe hundreds of thousands in days. Our only limitations are making sure we have enough propane or other gas in the tank to power the pumpkin and the pumpkin crop for that year. Once our weapon is adopted by the military, we will start to work on a Strategic Pumpkin Reserve where we will store enough pumpkins to arm a war in a bad pumpkin crop year.”

The general walked over to the blathering idiot and laid a hand on his shoulder. Surprisingly, the blathering idiot had to look down to look eye to eye with the general.

“And you know the final beauty of all this young man? We don’t leave any annoying ordinance on the field of battle. There will be no shrapnel that will cause problems with the United Nations and their silly little rules or the Geneva Convention or any other treaty. The worst that will happen is the pumpkins will rot on the fields of battle, planting the seeds for future crops.”

The blathering idiot had to admit there was merit to this idea. It might even appeal to the left and right politicians. It would save money, which would appeal to the conservatives and be more environmentally friendly, which would appeal to the liberals. But then he wondered what would keep somebody from taking this idea and instead of pumpkins, using cans of pumpkin filling. It would be more compact, have a metal casing, and would be the reasonable next step. The step after that might be finding something so mix with the pumpkin, so that when it hit the target the volatile mixture would explode on impact, creating more impact damage. And then there would be….

In a matter of a few short years, it would be no different than it was now. After all, the world’s most power explosions were first created in a valley where there used to be farms and woods and trees turning color in the fall, just like here.

Suddenly, sadly, the blathering idiot felt very un-centered, and what was even worse, he no longer wanted a pumpkin pie for Thanksgiving.

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Twelve trash bags and what do you get?

By DAVID E. BOOKER

 One of three shopping carts found at cleanup.

One of three shopping carts found at cleanup.

Twelve trash bags and what do you get? Another day over and another First Creek Greenway cleanup. This one on Saturday, October 26, 2013. In addition to trash, as always there were interesting finds that included part of television (the type with a picture tube in it), two cooking grills (I guess summer was over and there was no place to store them except down at the creek.) part of a bicycle (Tires not included.), three shopping carts (Seems the creak can never get enough of these.), a Tennessee license plate from the 1980s (Car not attached.) and a sofa (The perfect thing to sit on and contemplate nature down at the greenway).

Members of cub scouts pack 146.

Members of cub scouts pack 146.

Thank you to Martin Vargas, Greg and Christopher Brown, Mark and Samuel Shoemaker, Elizabeth, J. Carmen, Jonathan, and Nathan Garcia all of Cub Scout pack 146. Thank you, also, to Brad, Joy, Charis, and Cai Guildford, Diana Ray, Ron, Jennifer, Henry, and Dovie Lubke, Lauren, Fin, and Hagen Rider, Hazel Tippo, Beth, Lauren, and David Booker.

A special thanks to the city of Knoxville and Keep Knoxville Beautiful for providing bags, gloves, water, and clean up equipment — including a dumpster to put all the trash in. Also, thank you to Magpies Bakery and Three Rivers Market. Magpies provided six dozen delicious mini-cupcakes and Three Rivers provided dozens of delicious Gala and Honeycrisp apples, perfect eating for a frosty fall morning.

Sofa and TV in back of the truck with cleanup crew on the way to help unload into the dumpster.

Sofa and TV in back of the truck with cleanup crew on the way to help unload into the dumpster.

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Overheard writing prompt

Elvira: a vixen for Halloween

Elvira: a vixen for Halloween

Recently, in a costume store, among the vixen and femme fatale Halloween costumes, came this plaintive remark from a woman: “This is terrible. They only go up to size 2X.”

What would you do with such a writing prompt?

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Haiku to you Thursday: “Saturday”

If my lover were /

Saturday, dabbled sunshine /

would sing from my lips.

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New words to live by: “elastation”

First Saturday of the month and it’s time for a new word. This is a word or phrase not currently in use in the U.S. English lexicon, but might need to be considered. Other words, such as obsurd, crumpify, subsus, flib, congressed, and others, can be found by clicking on the tags below. This month’s new word is:

elastation, n. = rubbery, slippery, idiotic intellectualization of reality.

An elastation can also be bent back on itself as needed and while others may recognize the contradictory absurdity of your elastation, you probably done.

For example, recent comments by Fox talking heads who attacked President Obama for not saying he would ask for Congressional approval before attacking Syria should the Syrian army use chemical agents on its opposition, and then when President Obama did seek Congressional support, attacking him for going back on his word.

Another elastation is the owner of a coal company saying only God can create global warming. After all, if God made the coal and man is made in God’s image, then couldn’t God be doing global warming with coal through man?

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New Word: “Face tedious”

It is the first Saturday of the month and time again for a new word to live. This is a word or phrase not currently in use in the U.S. English lexicon, but might need to be considered. Other words, such as obsurd, crumpify, subsus, flib, congressed, and others, can be found by clicking on the tags below. Today’s New Word is actually a phrase instead of word maybe by merging two other words as has been the case before. Still, without further chattering is the new word for the month of July:

Face tedious, n. what you become to others when you spend too much time on Facebook and other social media commenting and posting too often with too little to actually say. In short, a virtual bore, or “vore.”

Example: Bob kept commenting on Sam’s vacation photos posted on Facebook. He had commented so much and so often that he was a face tedious to all of Sam’s other friends who had liked or commented on the photos, because they kept getting notifications that Bob had commented yet again. None of them “liked” Bob’s comments any more and many of them wished for a “vore” symbol to click to send Bob a message.

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New word: “crumpify”

First Saturday of the month. Time for new words to live by. Once a month on the first Saturday of each month, I will list a new word. This is NOT a word you are likely to find in the dictionary. It is a new word, often a portmanteau word, sometimes just a new word not made from merging two other words. Some of the previous words have included: obsurd, a combination of obscure and absurd, obscure absurdity means something obsurd. These new words might even be considered an exercise in obsurdity.

Here now is the new word.

Crumpify: v., to crumple something multiple times or in multiple ways, so as to leave it in a multiple crumpled state. It can still be useable in this state, but is often seen as a transitional state to something better.

For example: “If I crumpify my car enough, maybe my parents will buy me the sports car I always wanted.”

Crumpified: adj., the condition of being in a state of crumpification, i.e., multiple crumples.

For example: On Monday, Joey found the crumpified gum he had stuck under his school desk on Friday. He peeled it off, popped it into his mouth and chewed on it for a several minutes until it was soft again. It had lost some of its flavor, but he could still blow a bubble with the double-wad he had started off with.

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