Shakespeare Was A Monkey's Uncle

Monkeyshines

It has been said that given enough time, a gang of monkeys could type out the works of Shakespeare. How long that would take is hard to say, but I am troubled by wondering if that very experiment is not taking place in a secure laboratory somewhere, probably in Nevada. Chimpanzees in Nevada is a disturbing enough thought, but what I am wondering is if this experiment (started in the fifties) when typewriters were the only writing machines available, what happened when they switched over to word processors? And now, since this is an exceedingly long-running experiment, what are those monkeys typing on? Do they have internet access?

To Steam Or Not To Steam

Let's fire up the Quasitron 6000 Steam Powered Search Engine and find out.

There isn't any coal or firewood. Uncle Bill took it.

“Voice! Where ya been, buddy?! It's been quiet around here. I missed you!”

France. And the news is that it has been anything BUT quiet around here.

“Aw, Voice, I meant quiet by my standards. Anyway, I need to fire up the ol' Quaz and get to the bottom of this typing monkey question. My readers are thirsty for knowledge and it's up to me to give it to them.”

Oh, you give it to them, alright.

“Har Har, you funny. Bust up that last chair and get it in the firebox and let's do us a Wisdom Search!”

Voices don't bust up chairs.

“Then what are they good for? Alright, I'll do it myself. Where is it? Wait, don't tell me...oh, yeah.”

Throw Another Chair On the Fire

The last combustible chair had gone to the Great Spirit on a wing and a prayer at the now famous Last Cookout. It was a purely sacrificial offering to cement my vow to “live outside and never sit down again.” I am a man of many vows and adjectives and sometimes I get carried away. The downside is that there is no fuel on hand to get the Quasitron up and running.

So Now, Let The Rambling Begin!

OK. Hmmm...typing monkeys, Shakespeare, what else? Well, there is always Bicycles.

Born A Ramblin' Man

My friend Gypsy ByTrade is meandering around Alaska and is apparently preparing to meander down here for a little dirt time. He has been posting some great stuff for anyone interested in the Wild World of Fat Tired Bikes as well as dispensing some wisdom and tech about How Ya Do It. This is a guy who has spent more time on a bicycle than off of one and knows his stuff.

His buddy Cass Gilbert at While Out Riding is currently in Ecuador and posting some very nice stuff that is definitely worth a look and will put a little foreign flavor in your day. I have always been fascinated by these cyclists who trek Out There, traveling light and doing some valid work letting the everyday people in Other Places know that not all Americans weigh 300 pounds and drive 40 ton four-wheel-drive behemoths in order to get to a McDonald's that they can see from their front porch. Somehow that is important and maybe if the Heads of States just stayed on the porch and let us commoners sort things out we could do it with a dance-off or a singing competition or a pie-eating contest instead of killing half the population.

I have seen some pretty wild stuff at drunken family reunions (remember, Granny Comstock was a Hatfield) and those church socials can get pretty rough but neither of these events require battleships or nuclear weaponry. Not yet, at least.

Also...

Jaquie Phelan is in Europe doing something; I can never quite tell what but I am confident that whatever it is, the girl is representing and making two wheels and our clan look good.

Let's see, what else...

If this doesn't pick up soon I may change my chair busting policy.

“Hush, Voice, I'm free-associating, letting my mind wonder about while I type in case a nugget pops out.”

Sounds scary.

How To Be A Senior

Lloyd Khan is wandering the streets of New York City, sending back brief reports and photos that will make you wish you were there. If I can be like Lloyd when I hit seventy-plus, I'll be glad to do it. I have been a fan and follower of his work for almost forty years now and he never disappoints. Go to his site when you want a little whimsy and delight. It only takes a minute and you will be glad you did.

I'll Bet You Wish I Had Some Wood Or Coal

This planet is, for now, our total reality. Our ventures into space thus far are the equivalent to sticking a toe in the water. We haven't really been to Space Its Ownself, outside the Solar System: we are like children at the age when Mom first lets us play around the corner, out of her sight. And of course, as soon as we venture around that corner we find ourselves in a strange new world. Even if we have been around that corner before, it is strange and new because we are seeing it on our own, with our own eyes and souls. How we conduct ourselves there is up to us, now; we are on our own and we gotta do it alone; Mom ain't there and it is up to us. For myself, I have always loved rounding that corner and while I have often reveled in my misanthropic worldview I am, (as I age and grow in wisdom and girth) I am finally realizing that it is this planet that makes up the goldfish bowl and this is it: it is just us and we better get good at it or all the typing Chimpanzees in any number of Infinite Universes will not be able to come up with a story that will get us out of the Truth once Mom comes looking to find out why we were late for dinner and if our Home-work has been done.

Trailer Park Disclaimer

I promise to lay in a new pile of wood and coal for the Quasitron 6000 and type better next time. Don't hold it against me, I am only one goldfish in a big, small bowl. I am riding my bicycle and I hope all of you, also, are doing the same. It counts, somehow.

O wonder!

How many goodly creatures are there here!

How beauteous mankind is! O brave new world,

That has such people in't.

Whispering Pines Trailer Park and Philosophy Phactory

#69