Tag Archives: Heaven

I Used To Like Learning

by Richard

I used to think I would always love to learn. My idea of heaven would be living in a university, taking any class I wanted and never having to worry about graduating. So, learning good. Until I took this vacation with Zippy the Monkey Boy to San Francisco.

Over the last year or so, Zippy the Monkey Boy has become something of a gear head, thanks largely to the BBC America show Top Gear. That horrible show

Okay, fine. It’s actually a pretty good show. But not in such high doses. It’s done something horrible to the brain of poor Zippy the Monkey Boy.

For instance, we were walking down the streets of Sausalito on a sunny, wonderful day. Many good-looking women wearing bikinis were walking down the street. And the young dude was busy scoping out the Porche rolling down the street.

I’ve spent the last four days drowning in a sea of automobile information. I knoe his favoritee car. The first time he ever saw a supercar (whatever that is) and why it’s always an abomination when any of the big three sports car makers barfs up a sedan.

I think the longest time he went without talking about a car was five hours. He was asleep att the time. Of course, he slept for 10 hours, so he got in a little sleep talking just to keep up the averages.

I think I’m ready for the  trip to end just so I can look at a street without wondering what auutomotive fact I’m going to be  learning next.

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Scooby Don’t

by Richard

The whole point of Scooby Doo is that there is a rational explanation for everything. In fact, it’s rather a succinct refutation of the notion of the existence of God. Although that’s probably not what the creators intended.

No, seriously. Think about it. If we disregard the putrefying sack of excrement known as The 13 Ghosts of Scooby Doo, and, really, doesn’t everyone, then all you’re left with (again, disregarding the animated movies that came out in the wake of the moderately successful live-action movie) is a show that offers a rational explanation for every supposed haunting.

Now that I think of it, though, the world of Scooby Doo must have had some really freaky goings on before the show started. I mean, the first thing people do when they’re up to something shady is to get as much attention as possible by posing as a ghost or some kind of lost cryptid? That says a lot about what the dudes in that world think.

Anyway, moving on. The underlying metamessage of Scooby Doo is that there is no life after death, that unquiet spirits do not hang on after the death of the body. Which, naturally, leads to the assumption that there is nothing of humans that carries on after the death of the body. If there are no souls, then there can be no heaven for them to exist in outside of the body. If there’s no heaven, there’s no god.

Scooby Doo, America’s greatest living-ish atheist propaganda pusher.

Or maybe I’m just thinking about this sort of thing for too long.

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A Word Of Caution

by Richard

For years, Hyper Lad has been drooling after one thing and one thing only: He saw a five-pound Gummi Bear on a television show a while back and he’s wanted one ever since.

Gummi Bears are a kind of candy, sort of a hard jelly shaped like the traditional iconic image of a teddy bear. Personally, I can’t stand the little things. They’re just plain awful. But that’s me.

To Hyper Lad and a lot of other people, Gummi Bears are their go-to candy. Poor, poor people.

Anyway, Hyper Lad saw a five-pound Gummi Bear on television and, ever since that exact instant, it has been his Holy Grail, his Nirvana, His goal. The one thing he’s wanted in life more than any other thing.

And, yesterday, he basically got it.

Hyper Lad and his mom were wandering around in historic downtown St. Augustine, FL, and checking out this and that. Until they wandered into a candy store on St. George St.

“He had that thing out of its shelf and to the counter and was paying for it before I even turned around,” said my wife, known to Hyper Lad as She Who Must Be An Angel Because She Let’s Me Buy Stuff.

The “thing” to which she referred was a one-pound orange Gummi Bear. Seriously. One solid pound of hardened orange Jell-o, shaped like a teddy bear and encased in plastic. You’d think the young dude had found his heaven.

Right up until the time he actually took a bite out of the Gummi Bear’s ear.

He chewed and then chewed some more, with a nice confused look on his face. Then you could see him force the swallow down his throat.

Hyper Lad carefully put the Gummi Bear back down on the table and distinctly push it away.

“That,” he said, “tastes like solid cough medicine.”

And so, dudes, the lesson we’ve learned from this is . . . Gummi Bears taste like cough medicine?

No. Um, how about One-pound Gummi Bears taste like five miles of bad road?

No, what about. . . I got it! Be careful what you wish for. You just might get it.

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