Lucky Charms

There are few things as lucky as a shiny silver and green turtle... or so I was led to believe by Brittany at the hospital gift store... now, I am not so sure, yet still confidant in the nominal powers of trinkets to affect a lasting change in the world. Incidentally, that is why I eat Lucky Charms day after day... it is the only FDA approved method of ingesting shamrocks... and what could be more lucky than that? I had a lucky shamrock once that my band teacher had given me from Ireland. I kept it in a jar, hoping that it would grow... This must have been an unlucky shamrock, because it ended up getting eaten by our cat, who was then hit by a car (not lucky.) That is where karma comes in, sometimes it doesn't matter how lucky you are, there is no way to turn your luck around

Is this a joke?

Or maybe I should ask, are you a joke? because you sure aren't funny... that is the typical problem that I face. It seems that I am constantly forced to perform like a circus in order just to keep myself entertained. Left to their own devices, people can be quite boring... often letting their conversations drift in a downwards direction until before you know it, they are talking about UPS benefits. Now I know, what could be more funny than guys driving around in short shorts all months of the year right? Wrong, it seems whenever UPS is mentioned, I am one of the very few capable of making that connection and therefore enjoying whatever humour that can be had from guys dressed up like the hot cops. Sadly, the common man (whatever that means here, because trust me, these people are anything but typical,) has great difficulty seeing anything funny about the men and women in brown, and would rather discuss the alledgedly amazing benefits package that these daring heroes recieve for their incredible work. Needless to say, after several failed attempts to save the conversation and avoid utterly wasting my time, I had to bail on that sinking ship, by which I mean run out of the room screaming. I learned a lot that day about boring people... like, they are everywhere, and no, they are not your friends... also, they have a thing for bagel pizzas.

God Save the Romans

In the sixth century, the Emperor Heraclius mobilized his people in a desperate attempt to save the empire from a massive Persian/Avar/Slavic invasion that threatened it's ruin. Imprinted on coins made from the melted down treasures donated by the church, Heraclius inscribed the phrase, 'God Save the Romans,' knowing that only divine help could rescue his people from certain calamity. After years of fighting, Heraclius was able to defeat the Persians and drive them out as if by a miracle, only to watch the Empire fall apart only a few years later from the Arab invasions. So it is with life, one disaster preceding the next as the inexorable decrees of fate exert their will upon us mortals. In our moment of greatest need what can we say, having done all that we know how, except "may God save us..."

Home Is Where Your Heart Is

Ever since man left his cave... he has wondered why. Think about it... what could be more perfect than a nice and cozy little cave? I'm sure if Thomas Kinkade knew anything about anything, he would have started painting caves years ago, and not just in caves. Anyways, some might say that housing has come a long way since then. In ancient Rome, multistory shanty tenements held individual cell like cloisters filled with people and rats, but strangely no cave paintings. Luckily Nero burned down the city so that he could build his Domus Aurelius and blame it on the Christians. Now Nero's house had style, who could live without a collosal golden statue of one's self to greet visitors, or an artificial lake in the backyard? Jealous of Nero's crib, Vespasian eventually tore it down like a sore loser, and now the only way to get to it is to go underground through the grottos. How fitting that the greatest house ever built eventually became a dank, dark, dreary, cozy little cave. Our current housing market could definately learn from this... much as colonel Sanders did, and start building underground houses next door so that our chauffers can live in them.