Wednesday, February 8, 2012

ONE RINGY DINGY, ONE MILLION RINGY DINGIES. . .


OOPS  "Ringy" needs a dinghy.
          My   good readers,
As promised, when I happened upon this post in the light of day - which occurred two hours after publishing it - allowed as how I must re-visit and re- vise the text at the point - probably four A.M. - at which it began to deteriorate, ultimately achieving gibberish re: meaning/sense.  Blame it on the hour.  Nay, there is NO excuse, only a trip down 'polish lane' to expunge the inherited 'Polish literacy'.  It is hoped, those of you who attempted to follow my train of thought, only to have your analytic skill de-railed, might experience a more intelligible foray this evening.  Or not. L. . . .

      Pack up all your cares and woes.  Here we go - again - and I've got you covered.  My personal provenance classifies me, metaphorically, as a 'globe trotter'.  This because I grew up in NYC, a city steeped in its tradition and then marinated in a vast olio of cultures over, lo, these fifteen or so decades.  I therefore traveled - extensively, internationally - at a very early age.  The concept of 'foreign land' is alien to me.  I simply can't imagine the feeling of  'I've NEVER been HERE before'.
      To boot, I'm no stranger to 'reaching out' and 'touching someone'.  You see, I remember when we had pen pals, shared an exciting day with a friend, then placed it in an envelope and mailed it.  I was in 'touch' with my husband every day of his nine month deployment - still have the letters; he'd be rounding the Cape of Good Hope while I was rounding our checkbook balance UP; I met/got to know HIS dad, who'd been gone from us almost thirty years when, while clearing out the attic of the family home, one of his sisters and I found - color me red - and scanned the letters he had written to his wife while he was serving - as a surgeon -in the European theater during WWII.  We wrote thank you notes, 'dear Johns', 'bread and butters'; we commiserated with friends who were lonely, far away. Then.  Telephone arrived and we'd spend hours on the line - while doing - or getting Herald Trib answers to do - homework.
      The best way to really know someone is by reading their letters.  This voyeur got chummy with Hemingway, Thomas Jefferson, Clare Booth Luce, C. G. Jung, Jennie Churchill and, of course, my father-in-law through their personal writings.  Thoughts, feelings, opinions, beliefs - all flowed unimpeded, languidly, allowing time to craft, find JUST the right word.  Sharing.  Bare-ing.  Mind to mind.  Heart to heart.  It was personal, had a signature - the way t.s.elliot's 'signature' was lower cases; Fred Astaire's, a top hat and cane; Mae West's cup size; FDR's cigarette holder; Emily Post's white gloves and never-on-a-table elbows.
      You get the picture.  You were presented with 'the picture'.
      (We wrote to inform, announce, update.  Today, for example, I listened as a journalist 'told' us a story about whales in their huge, reflecting tanks in California.  The accompanying visuals served to enhance the 'plight' of these glistening leviathans, romping, splashing, jumping UP, diving DOWN, 'puttin' on the' skits for the grinning, droplet-dotted faces of kids of all ages who'd come JUST to watch them do THEIR thing. Rewarded by clapping, cheering, it was one big, wet story of an adventure, a celebration of sorts.  The personal sort.)
      These days, 02/08/12, for one, we continue to write to each other and to 'reach out' with Ma Bell.  But boy-oh-my - such is the admixture - it's a much bigger deal.  You have your 'friends' on Facebook, Google runs you around in 'circles', you 'connect' on Linkedin and you stream with WII - pronounced 'whee', not to be confused with 'the big one'.  And, it's in technicolor and stereophonic - no - make that 'wrap-around' sound and 'hi-def', a compensatory 'widget' to make up for the loss of hearing sequela from the 'wrap-around' sound - now ebbing.
      You've got the whole 'enchalada' right at your fingertips - or maybe you're 'all thumbs'.  Whatever.  You 'tweet', you 'Like' and you 'LOL' - and even if I've been deaf since birth and signing, I 'get it'.


ON AIR. NO COMMUNICATING
      (The 'whale thing' rapidly escalated into a scandal.  As if on cue - "cue the Wackos!" - a sizable, motley crew of representatives from that august body-sans-wit, notorious by the acronym, "P.E.T.A", landed on the calm shores of normalcy.  As the Head Quarters from which this steerage deploys is located not far enough from our home, we've - the community - come to know something of their tacticians and body lunatic.  They are 'People for the Equal Protection of Animals', I think, although in spirit, the hegemony of this sub-culture springs from its 'for-the-prevention-of-cruelty-to-animals' thematic underbelly.
      Not uncharacteristically, they were secretly ebullient while being ostensibly cacophonic and unattractive, albeit clothed - a decided improvement over some more urbane, barely-clad demonstrative displays of 'skin-not-to-be-contaminated-by-the-associated-dermatological-pustulitic-infestations-associated-with-the-donning-of-hides/pelts-of-sacrificed/tortured-mammals.  I've referenced this roiling reverie lest the reader come away with a negative impression of this most recent 'P.E.T.A.' debacle.
      Indeed, the outraged champions of 'Free-Willy-ism' and 'Let-Moby-Dick-Go-ism' actually added a 'je ne sais quoi' touch to an otherwise potentially pallid parade with their colorful placards of indignance.)
      By way of explanation/comparison, the hegemony of the 'e-culture' can best be elaborated upon by creating, if you will - or not - a virtual 'benchmark case', to wit: Conductivity v. Connectivity.  The underpinnings of the former generate a descriptive ability and the extent to which an element/object can transmit/carry something from point A to point B, said objects  being as disparate as messages, electric current, goods and even people - unless the individual's avoirdupois is preclusive! The latter, didactic in nature, is the ability to reach/communicate/inform using words, images and emotional overtones. 
      Presently, I would place into evidence "Plaintiff's Exhibit 1", the soon-to-be-released anthology, "Every Child is Entitled to Innocence", published by The Orangeberry Press.  All proceeds from the sale of this collection of poems and short stories are to be donated to Child Helpline International, an organization that physically provides support, IE, food, clothing, healing and any needed improvements in living conditions to underprivileged/abused children worldwide.  This organization's mission statement embraces/demonstrates Plaintiff's very definition and serves to render tangible meaning to the phrase "reach out and touch someone'.
      (The reason P.E.T.A aficionados were all a-whisper about this 'whale' thing detection was that under the guise of harmless entertainment - for the performers AND audience - what was clearly patent in their pristine tank was cold- blooded, heinous transgression of our nation's constitution in the form of SLAVERY.  Please, readers, scotch any notions of canard in my re-telling of this incident.  One simply CANNOT MAKE THIS STUFF UP. 
      Hard to believe, but the P.E.T. A. pundits were asking us to accept 'THE REALITY' of these insouciant performers-at-play: THEY WERE RESPONDING TO COMMANDS.  "More arc, Moby!", "Wiggle, Willy - or the whip!"  Yes, dear friends, their frolic was FRAUDULENT.)
      In its Opening Statement, Defense indicted itself by utilizing the vapid prediction that it would show how its didactic nature would purport to/succeed in alleviating the plight of these enslaved mammals. 
      Whereas Plaintiff, utilizing a 'non-living' instrument, would typically fail at breaking the chains on this bounty of bondage.  Thereafter, it would resort to a ruse of smoke and mirrors 'a la', "But we will deliver hope and inspiration to churlish children worldwide!" And the whales? "Well, uh, they don't read."
      At this juncture I can only suggest the plausibility of Summary Judgment for Plaintiff if only for pragmatic reasons.  To wit, whence Defendant's 'jury of whale peers'?  And the proposition of  'like/kind', thus allowing dolphins to comprise the panel, will be thrown out by prior case law, refuted but once mentioned in a dissent referencing the use of the human Miami Dolphins.
      Moreover, at what point will the Court permit the erection of the only container that will humanely present the enslaved whales?  Obviously, there can be no appearance without an appropriate tank and, given the severity of the charge, Defendant will be held in contempt if it cannot produce its only evidence - the fatal flaw in Defendant's nature.  And, reading previously taken sworn depositions at trial would be garbled at best but, if allowed, would insure that Plaintiff must prevail because these glorious specimens of contentment would categorically elide their denial of enslavement.
      (Connectivity, then, can only demonstrate, by revealing its superficial, ineffective nature re: correcting wrongs, that it is but a useless widget that is marketed brilliantly as an effective, substantive tool.  When asked to deliver, its diaphanous cape and cause will evaporate, leaving shreds of bare detritus to face the court of reality's wrath - an outcome more in keeping with P.E.T.A.'s previous pontifications.
      Conductivity, by contrast, as evidenced by its own Exhibit #1, will win the day as the anthology, "Every Child is Entitled to Innocence" finds its way into the tiny - previously empty - grasping hands of the very children it is prepared to help worldwide, as the channels open and the 'mana' of hope flows freely to its target.)
      Plaintiff rests.  Minutes later, the Court declares in Conductivity's favor.  Connectivity will bear all court costs and make appropriate restitution to the 'kind strangers' in California for the temporary monetary and, more significant, cultural losses suffered by its citizens.  Adjourned.

Once more, later, Lorane. . . .
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