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Hey, diddle, diddle,
The plates in the middle ,
The cup jumped over the moon;
The little fork laughed
To see the dish washer,
And the dish ran away with the spoon.
🤣
I think it would be exciting to rewrite a song with Weird Al.
I try to make putting dishes in the dishwasher fun.
https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/46952/hey-diddle-diddle
I consider this ‘my favorite’ of stories I’ve written. This is a repost. The dates have been changed. Time marches on. And the story has been broken into chapters for easier reading. I hope you enjoy reading New Earth as much as I enjoyed writing it.
Posted: 10-9-2022
Revised: 9-10-2023
Reposted: 11-16-2023
‘What of religion? The Bible? God?’ The roar in my head returned and this electronic voice said, ‘forbidden subject matter.’
In my life before the trip to Mars, I didn’t set the world on fire with my religious beliefs. I went to church sometimes. However, I did pray multiple times a day. I read the Bible. I talked to people in my life about God and my beliefs. So if I was to understand correctly, religion in all forms has been forbidden by the CHIP. You are corrected if you think about anything associated with religion. This might account for the headache that I had. But then I guess if you haven’t been taught anything about religion, there’s nothing to think about?
This new Earth was a world with the total absence of God. A world void of belief. My heart sank as my head buzzed. A world void of God. How could this be? I didn’t like this new Earth. I wanted to sink my teeth into a big juicy hamburger. I wanted to smell something. Even if it was bad. A fart. ANYTHING! And most of all, I wanted to pray without this CHIP causing me to pass out.
As I looked around, the room seemed out of focus. My caretakers were not in sight. I clumsily ran to the door. When I opened it, I thought I heard alarms ringing. It could have been only in my head. I blindly ran. The multitude of houses were a blur. There was a few of the forms outside but they paid no attention to me. I ran and I ran. I ran until I couldn’t run anymore. My head felt like it was going to explode. I fell into grass. Real grass under my hands. I took a deep breath filling my lungs with the smell. At last a smell. I looked up to see yellow specks. Prayed they were flowers. I tried so hard to make them come into focus. In front of me was a blue blob. Could it be water? I crawled on my hands and knees toward it. “God let it be water.” I think I said it out loud. But at this point I had no concept of what was spoken versus thought.
The closer I got, the weaker I felt. My head was louder now than it had ever been. I was determined to figure out what was in front of me. I felt strange. My nose felt as if it was leaking. It took great effort to lift my green stained hand to my face. Upon lowering it, I saw red. Was that blood? Was my nose bleeding?
I looked to my right to see shapes moving toward me.
I made it! Water! It was water. I can smell it. Heavenly water.
Then I remembered: Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. I slid head first into the water. It was cold, refreshing, a gift from God. ‘Thank you God!’ I shouted in my mind. ‘Thank you.’
I don’t want to live in a world void of God. Most everyone thinks of the end time as a dystopia post-apocalyptic world. This to me was the end time. A world in which God no longer existed in any form. According to the CHIP in my head, this world was without crime, suffering, struggle, there was no hatred or injustice. It was utopia. But without God, it was empty, a joke. A game. A great big video game where the computer was in control.
With the last bit of strength I had, I started to recite the Lord’s Prayer: ‘Our Father who art in heaven hallowed be thy name.’ I could feel my lungs filling up with water. I didn’t have the strength or desire to roll over. This was calm. ‘Thy kingdom come, thy will be done on Earth as it is in Heaven.’
My world became tranquil and my head stopped hurting.
The End.
Why do others take such delight –
get such joy, to the point of spite –
from someone admitting they made a mistake?
They delight in the shake.
~
Revel in the quake.
Dance in the wake.
All mistakes are correctable.
Unless someone is undetectable.
~
You might not like the outcome.
It will be joyous for some.
Seeing you admit –
but do not quit.
~
Eat that crow.
Let your mistakes help you grow.
Let them laugh.
Let their hate bounce off you like chaff.
~
Difficult sometimes I know.
Words take root and sow.
You got a very deep cut?
Learn what you can and keep that strut.
~
We all make mistakes.
Are you willing to own it or fake?
Learn and grow?
Eat that crow.
~
My mistake may not be as devastating as yours.
But the same humiliation is in store.
People watching, waiting for you to fail.
Whatever you do, do not bail.
What’s the first impression you want to give people?
1998, just about to graduate from college. Foul mouthed, hot headed, gonna solve all the world’s problems, blossoming adult. I snagged an internship. That coveted prize for all college students. Especially those headed out into the working world with thousands of dollars in loans. This prize above all others could parlay into a real world real job. 🎶Money, money, money, money!🎶
My bestie loves to tell the story of her first impression of me; stated above. Foul mouthed, hot headed, she really didn’t care for me. I can’t remember how we became besties. Or what that first moment was that changed her mind. We have been besties for more than 20 years.
How’s that for first impressions?
People can change. I’m so not that person anymore. I may look the same and have some of the same interests.
Desire
At the end of the work day, Oscar was beat. He and Esther had enjoyed dinner together every night. Would they have dinner together tonight? Should he go over and get her. He was exhausted. His episode Monday had destroyed him. He honestly admitted to himself that he was a mess. He also admitted that deep down inside, he was attracted to her. All of those feelings that he had been trying to bury with prayer were starting to break through his defenses.
His questions were answered when he got home. When he saw her house, she was standing on the sidewalk waiting on him. There was a grin on her face bigger then Texas. He couldn’t wait to get out of the SUV to find out what she was up to.
“Hi there.” She grinned.
“Hi.”
“Follow me, kind sir. I have something for you.” When they walked into the living room, all Oscar saw was a chair. She handed him a notebook, an ink pen, and a disposable camera.
“What’s this for?”
“I saw Chester, Chet.” She corrected herself. “And he shared with me the feelings you have about this house. So,” she wiggled, “I’m going to leave you two alone. I’ll be around. I do have one favor to ask.” He was numb. “Could I have the keys to your house?”
He so wanted to say, get them and while you’re at it. But he didn’t. He reached in his pants pocket and gave her his keys. Before he could gather his wits about him to speak, she was gone.
He was in shock. How could Chet do this to him? This was so very personal. So, well, it was very much a part of him. And all of a sudden he felt exposed. He knew that he had mentioned to her that he had always wanted to see the inside of the house. But for Chet to tell her exactly how he felt was friendship treason.
When the heat kicked on, he was startled. It amazed him that heat had a smell. Even in his own house and at school, he could smell the heaters. Then he realized that the house smelt of bleach. She had spent all day cleaning. A quick glance at the ink pen told him that she had been to the bank. He laughed at the notion of them giving her a toaster for opening a new account. She really didn’t seem like the toaster type.
As he looked around, he noticed she had left the lights on. He could only imagine that this was what coming home to a loving wife felt like. Everything felt warm and inviting. This little house no longer smelt of must and mold, but dare he say – love.
It took a lot of trust, he figured, on her part to leave him here. Leave him alone with the object of one of his desires. Even though none of her real belongings were in the house, it was a bold move. But then again, he did give her the keys to his house.
He took pictures and made detailed notes about everything in the house. Even the chair that she had left. As he went back into the living room, he hoped to find Esther. Instead, he found another notebook and ink pen. This pen was from the gas company.
Outside, the night was turning bitterly cold. Every star in the heavens twinkled. To his amazement, this little house had a basement. He saw the reflection of the light on the side of the moving van. The entrance to the basement was in the back of the house. The extra notebook she placed in the chair came in handy. He smiled. But she knew that didn’t she, otherwise she wouldn’t have put it there. He was able to answer one question he had about this house; the original one room frame was still there. It was amazingly beautiful and old.
The veil of bitter cold darkness was wrapped around the world tighter now than when he went into the basement. He found a note on the door that read, ‘lock up’. He did before placing the note in one of the notebooks. He was amazed; he didn’t feel exhausted anymore. Tired yes, but not drop dead exhausted as when he first got home.
He told himself tomorrow he would describe the outside of the house. His back was to the road. He was staring at the little house. There was nothing in the world but him and this house. At that moment, he forgave Chet for his friendship treason. This quite possibly was the greatest gift he had been given.
“All done?” He jumped out of his skin. Esther was standing behind him. There was that big ole smile. “Sorry,” she covered her mouth with her hand. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“No harm. Yes, I’m done.” They stood in silence for a moment; “thank you so much, I can never really explain to you what this meant to me.” He threw his arms around her and tried to give her the best hug he could.
She enjoyed his hug more than she should have. He was so warm. She giggled, “make me a promise.”
“Of?”
“I want to be the first person to read the book.”
“May I take pictures of the outside tomorrow?”
What book are you reading right now?
I listen to audio books.
Daily Bible listening.
And – Stranger in a Strange Land is a 1961 science fiction novel by American author Robert A. Heinlein. It tells the story of Valentine Michael Smith, a human who comes to Earth in early adulthood after being born on the planet Marsand raised by Martians, and explores his interaction with an eventual transformation of Terran culture.
In 2012, the Library of Congress named it one of 88 “Books that Shaped America”.[4]
From Wikipedia
And
Mayo Clinic: The Menopause Solution
I consider this ‘my favorite’ of stories I’ve written. This is a repost. The dates have been changed. Time marches on. And the story has been broken into chapters for easier reading. I hope you enjoy reading New Earth as much as I enjoyed writing it.
Posted: 10-9-2022
Revised: 9-10-2023
Reposted: 11-16-2023
Finally! Outside! Sunshine, birds, grass, I couldn’t wait. I was amazed this suit fit better than I imagined it would. I could breathe, see, smell. Wait – smell. It just dawned on me that I really hadn’t smelt anything since I woke to this newness. Nothing good nor bad. Not even the food they gave me had an aroma.
‘Smells unless produced by nature are forbidden.’ The soft voice filled my head.
The walk outside was such a letdown. No birds were singing. The sun was shining but I couldn’t feel it through the suit. I saw no flowers, no animals. Outside seemed to me just as sterile as the inside. There were no cars. No form of transportation at all. I saw only a handful of other forms outside.
‘Where is everyone?’
The soft voice answered. ‘The others are in different places, home, work, learning centers.’
‘So are you two doctors?’
‘No, we are caretakers. We are unaware of what a doctor is.’
Question time was fun. These beings seemed to know everything and nothing. They took me to a small house. The inside of it looked just like my small Kentucky home, except my dog was missing. I really missed my dog.
‘You may take your suit off now.’ They put a finger on top of their head and the suit fell down. Following their example, I did the same.
To me, my caretakers looked like a man and a woman. They were the same height, same weight, same hair color, same eye color. ‘Twins.’ I thought.
‘No, we are not twins. Everyone looks the same. This way no one can proclaim bigotry.’
‘Where is individuality, uniqueness, cultural difference? How can we learn from each other if you are all the same? And why the suits if everyone looks the same?’
That roar was back in my head. I remembered getting very dizzy. Another movie played in my mind. I saw images of babies being drowned because of their gender. People’s eyes were being removed because of their eye color. Horrid skin dissolving viruses were being developed so people could have their skin removed in an attempt to have it replaced. Others with certain hair colors were being lined up and shot as if they were part of an old timey firing squad.
What happened to humanity? How did we get to this point? Now, in this new time. On this new Earth, everyone looked the same. And thanks to these computer chips, everyone’s thoughts are the same. There was nothing.
The story continued. It would appear that in the year 2,060 a killing spree occurred. Someone hacked into the IRS’ data base and started killing people that got back great amounts of money. If you got back more in taxes than you paid in, you became a target. It just didn’t happen in one state. It happened nationwide. Hundreds of thousands of people were killed. From this point on, no one worked for a company anymore. All interstate commerce ceased and everyone worked for the government. You lived in a house provided by the government. You got a food allowance. Your clothing was issued. All forms of transportation stopped. Only a handful of high ranking officials got to travel. Wherever you lived when all transportation ended, is where you stayed. It didn’t matter if you were in walking distance from your family or around the world from them.
My movie did end with a happy thought. I guess in this new world, happiness was still a big deal. I saw dated news articles of Ground Y’s headquarters. They were true to their word. My Chico did become the official mascot. They treated him like a king. There was still my cute, adorable Chihuahua. One story was sad to me. Staff would get to missing him only to find him on the roof of the building where he watched the BFS take off. It was sad yet comforting to know that he had missed me too.
On what I assumed was the next day, my caretakers brought me food. The same green mess that I had eaten every day. I just stared at it. ‘Not hungry?’ The lower voice asked.
‘What is this?’
‘Food.’ The soft voice answered. ‘Not food the way you are used to seeing it. It is a plant based protein that we have been consuming for generations. Meat products were outlawed.’
‘What does a normal day for you look like?’ I thought.
Here came another in-mind movie. They got up, went to work, came home, the chip in our heads filled us with correct knowledge. They have the sense of being entertained, rested, at peace, the good emotions. Everything came from the chip.
I started thinking about just everyday things: children it seemed were ordered. And that was all you needed to know. When your body’s hormone levels were right and you felt like you wanted a child, a baby was delivered to you. Marriage happened when those pesky hormones reached a certain level, a mate was selected for you. To me, it was like arranged marriages that I had read about. Identity in this world wasn’t an issue, so you got a mate.
It also occurred to me that there were no names. A name was something else that could be construed as an injustice. If your name was Prince and you weren’t a Prince then you were mis-identifying yourself to the general public.
Neotenous
Oscar set in the teachers lounge staring at a sandwich; neotenous was written at the top of his notebook page. He had scribbled, are we really just animals? Esther’s generalization of humanity bothered him.
Connor (Mr. Miller to his students) sat down with Oscar. It wasn’t until he spoke that Oscar was aware of his presents. “I got your message.”
Oscar slowly looked up at him. “Thanks. As a biology teacher, how do you feel about people being called animals?”
Connor unpacked his lunch as Oscar spoke, tearing hungrily at his sandwich. When Oscar finished speaking, Connor looked up with a piece of lettuce sticking out of the corner of his mouth. He smiled, removing the lettuce with his tongue. “Well, if you take away our minds, our capability of moral thought and free will what’s left?”
Oscar smiled despite himself. Connor’s removal of the lettuce had left a spot of mayo behind. Oscar pointed at the corner of his mouth to let Connor know something was still hanging around. He wiped his mouth with a napkin. “I’m eating like a wolf because the wife has me on a diet. The doctor chewed me up one side and down the other ‘cause of my blood pressure.”
“We can talk later if you would prefer?”
“No, no.” He said chewing. “I like this kind of conversation. But we might need to invite a preacher to join in. This could go sideways and get offensive in a hurry.”
“That’s not why I’m asking.”
“Then why are you asking?” Connor opened a bag of low sodium potato chips. “Gross.” But he was eating them anyway.
“I guess it bothered me more than I realized that someone would boil humanity down to our baser instincts.”
“Humans are classified as mammals.” Connor eyed Oscar’s sandwich. Oscar pushed it over to him. “Are you sure, man?” He peeled back the bread. “Bologna! Yes! My wife would die.” He got up bringing back a few mustard packets from the fridge.
Oscar handed him his lunch bag, “help yourself.”
“Oh man. I love you.”
“How do you feel about humans being neotenous?”
“Juvenile?” He questioned as he ate Oscar’s banana. “I might have chosen a different term. Such as juvenile or childish. What brought on the use of the word? Was someone trying to seem smarter than they are?”
Oscar thought about that. It stung a little. She seemed smart to him. Her comment about acid rain. She defended him in front of his brother. Yes! Yes, she was smart. Was it really important?
Connor shook Oscar’s lunch bag, praying more food would fall out. Sadly, it didn’t. “I hate being on a diet.” He huffed. “We humans have put ourself on a pedestal,” he spoke as he put Oscar’s bag back on the table, “we are at the top of the food chain. About the only thing that can bring us down is another human, being out of our element, or as Covid should teach us, a bug.”
“Am I being cocky that this unsettles me?”
“Weelll,” Dr. Mike turned around. Then moved to their table. Dr. Mike was the school psychologist. “I know this is not my conversation.” He offered Connor and Oscar individually wrapped cakes. “Cost of admission?”
Connor snatched it out of his hand, “god yes.” He moaned as he sank his teeth into the processed sweetness of the snack.
Oscar and Dr. Mike smiled at each other as Connor made quick work of the cake.
“An interesting conversation is hard to find these days. If I may,” he looked at Oscar’s notebook, “could the use of this word not be about the word at all?”
“Why would it not be?” Oscar asked.
“We can see from Connor that, normal behavior is bypassed when we add or take something away that we are used to.” He held up the wrapper that once housed the cake.
Connor blushed, “I normally don’t eat like a rabid wolf .”
“Being on a diet has modified his behavior. So perhaps the use of this word is trying to expose something you’ve long since buried. The mind,” he pointed at his head. “Is amazing. We take this amazing organ for granted.”
Oscar wrote in his notebook, neotenous = juvenile = childish = silly? Play. Playing? Playful? Being playful?
Humanity = mammal = animal.
The 10 minute warning bell rang. Connor excused himself. “If you feel the need to continue this conversation, please let me know.”
“Of course. Thank you.” Oscar flashed a smile.
“I really don’t think that the second part of that equation is your problem.” Oscar didn’t look up at Dr. Mike. “Enjoy the rest of your day.” He leaned over whispering in Oscar’s ear. “She’s gotten under your skin?” Oscar locked eyes with him when he raised up. He winked at Oscar as he left.
As Oscar looked around the lounge, 3 teachers were staring at him. When they realized he saw them, their heads snapped back to their lunches. The sound of a rubber band snapping into place after being fully extended played through his mind. Nosy, he thought.
Are humans animals? – BBC Science Focus Magazine
https://australian.museum/learn/science/human-evolution/humans-are-mammals/
Amadeus is one of my favorite movies. Salieri is the protagonist in this movie. All of his life he has wanted to write music. He has a deep passion, a longing for it. He knows God filled him with this desire. And cleared a path in his life for it to happen, with the unexpected death of his father.
Salieri is the court composer for Emperor Joseph II. So he’s not small in the worlds eyes.
Salieri and the Emperor are together when they first meet Mozart. His music has proceeded him. Everyone is eager to meet the boy genius.
For Salieri’s sake, this meeting should have never happened. It was a mistake that was beyond measure. It crushes him. He becomes upset with God. God gave him the desire to write music but not the talent. It went to a “child, crawling on the floor.”
Mozart’s music was simple but beautiful. It flowed naturally like a river flows to the sea. Each note was well placed. Move a single note and the whole piece would fall apart. Salieri’s heart bled for the music that he desired to create. Why? Why did he have this burning inside of him? Why was God tormenting him with this “child”?
Have you ever felt like Salieri? You wanted something so badly. With such desire? You used so much energy to achieve a goal only to see someone else dance away with it? Or maybe the prize was never yours? It happens every day to everyone of us. And we have all done what Salieri did: “why God why?”
You can have someone tell you all day long that “it’s going to be okay. God’s got this. God’s got you. God’s not finished with you yet.” It’s all true, God does have all things in the palm of his hands. But there is still that sting of rejection, deflation, or utter heart break. Whatever it is, it will get better. But too often there’s a daily reminder of just how hard you fell. Just how overwhelming that failure was. “If at first you don’t succeed try, try again.” Bitter words sometimes. Especially if you feel like you’re being led, given a purpose, or inspired.
I encourage you not to get caught up in comparing yourself to Mozart. You’ll never measure up. You are a child of God. You have been created in his image.
Okay, so you’re not Mozart. Is what you’re doing pleasing to God? Is it giving you joy as well as glorifying God? Salieri wasn’t setting the world on fire by Mozart’s standards. Before he met Mozart, his heart was in the right place. His work, his passion was a gift from God. After he met Mozart, the devil used the situation to harden him and fueled a hatred for God.
Psalms 37: 4-5 “Delight thyself also in the Lord, and he shall give thee the desires of thine heart. Commit thy way unto the Lord! trust also in him and he shall bring it to pass.”
Stay focused on God.
I consider this ‘my favorite’ of stories I’ve written. This is a repost. The dates have been changed. Time marches on. And the story has been broken into chapters for easier reading. I hope you enjoy reading New Earth as much as I enjoyed writing it.
Posted: 10-9-2022
Revised: 9-10-2023
Reposted: 11-16-2023
When I woke, my eyes were blurry, almost as if caked over by a white blanket and my head was roaring. I could hear what I thought was the sound of beating drums. One a couple decibels lower than the other. Boom, boom. Boom, boom, boom.
Back and forth it went.
The next time I woke up, the white blanket was more like lace and the roaring in my head was now a buzz. The drums; I thought, might have been voices. Voices? That was a pleasant thought.
“Look, look. Our patient is coming around again.”
The softer of the two voices said. “Third time is the charm. Right?”
I woke to see something standing on either side of me. “There you are.”
“Can you speak?” The lower of the two voices asked. I tried to speak. But no sound came out. “Not with your voice, use your mind.”
How was I supposed to speak with just my mind? No one could do that. Maybe with the help of some super advanced technology. Now really?
Talking can be so overrated. Instead, I focused on trying to get up and get the use of my limbs back. Who knows, maybe I will be able to run through the grass and jump in the river. I was having the most pleasant thought about doing just that. I was running, arms wide open into the sun, across a green field then jumping into the refreshing water; when the lower of the two voices said, “that’s not going to happen. Swimming in natural bodies of water was banned a hundred years ago.”
I thought, ‘how did you know what I was thinking?’
‘Because you thought it.’
‘Fine, where am I?’ My mind was filled with the image of a building, white brick. It was long, only two stories tall; on the double doors that I assumed was the front of the building was written community healing center. Nothing flashy, just plain lettering on a plain door. Then one of the doors opened into a very sterile looking corridor. All the walls were a pale clinical green. Nothing special. The bodies, forms, whatever you call them were everywhere.
They were shapeless, non-descript beings.
This is a fluke right? Let’s try this again. ‘How did I get here?’ Again, I saw images, like a movie playing in my mind of the crash site. The ship that I had been riding in was laying on the sand in a massive pile. Bodies were laying all-round the scene in different states of dismemberment; arms here, legs there. A head was on top of this massive pile of scrap. Then I saw me being pulled out of the rubble by these forms and brought here to the community healing center.
‘So where am I?’ My thought was a news story telling about the fourth BFS’s lift off. Then after four months in space, it was never heard from again. I was getting ready to ask what year it was when 2,415 ran across my mind.
‘How is this possible?’ I thought. A company called Inter-face was developing a chip that was to interface with human brains. The original plan for the device was to help people with brain disorders and people who had been in accidents. I remembered that much being true. They rolled out their first one in 2,024. A year behind schedule. As my in-flight movie continued, it showed me wars, famine, devastation. All the things one would expect from a B rated science fiction movie. After this mess, everyone was implanted with a chip when they were born. When society became so corrupt they were on the verge of complete destruction, someone hacked the system and started correcting ever so slightly the imperfections of human behavior. Then I saw that these formless beings were actually a suit that was required to be worn anytime someone was outside. Only in the privacy of your own home were you allowed to show yourself.
‘So what happened to individuality and uniqueness?’ My head started raging and I passed out.
The low voice filled my head as I woke ‘When you ask something that you are not to know the answer, you are corrected back to the proper way of thinking?’
‘And who decides the correct way of thinking?’ The roar it my head was back and I was out.
‘You had some health issues that were corrected. A bulging disk in your lower back, tinnitus in your ears, arthritis in several joints, and allergies; all healed.’
‘Amazing,’ I thought. ‘It’s like being a new person.’
‘We are beings. We are all beings.’ The lower of the two voices commented.
When I woke up, both figures were standing at the foot of the bed holding an empty suit. ‘Time to go outside and see your new world.’
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