Thanks to l hat, I had to go back into yesterday's post and make a couple of corrections. The most important was changing "diatronic" in my ind(n)ept glance into the idea of Structuralism and how it became linguistic anthropology...the DIACHRONIC being the evolution of a language and the synchronic being systemic theory of language. So I changed "diatronic" to "diachronic" and I corrected my incorrect spelling of SHAEFFER pens, to the correct spelling which is SHEAFFER pens.
The word "diatronic" got to bothering me, it was beckoning unto me to make it a legit word as it sat there sad-eyed looking back at me. It was an obvious typing error on my part; my notes have it "diachronic" but I have "-tronics" on my mind a lot daily dealing with electronic devices I need in the continuence of my sane but eccentric existence; or I deal with the audiotronics surrounding me as I bump and grind with all the cell phone and cell phone-camera users flitting in and out of my life on an again daily basis [at dinner last night at my favorite Irish pub, at a table of 10 Euro turistas, 5 of them were on cell phones during most of the meal. One guy continuously on the cell phone, even while he was eating. The cell phone saved Finland's and Norway's economies. Like Bluetooth is big on the Danish economy.
So I looked up "diatronic" and boy howdy, look what I found--to me this is a wonderful find since my main day gig for many moons was in publishing and advertising and you do have a need to study a little about typesetting processes when you're so involved with them day-in and day-out. So searching "diatronic" gave me this site:
I love sites like that. God, some folks amaze me with their dedication to finishing a task. Time is grueling in its force on you--or as really feels, its force AGAINST you. Like swimming upstream against a rapids or taking on a riptide in a feat of strenght. Time has been my greatest enemy even in my earliest memories. Remember sitting in schoolrooms waiting for the big clock they always had up high on the wall over the blackboards to hit 3:30 so you could fly with unabandoned joy as fast as you could home. With me it was always flying to get home before my parents came trudging in around 5:15 (my mother was the first to pull in the driveway) so I could have at least an hour home alone. Oh how I loved being home alone. My world. My world was a hell of a lot more fun than the world my parents wanted me to live in.
Time has run the world since time was invented by man, though, yes, I've observed animals enough to know they have a sense of primitive time, too. Why do wolves how at the moon? Well, I know the answer to that since I'm a wolf, but the sun and the moon are our true timepieces; too bad we don't follow universal time. Sidereal time. A time you can reverse or advance at will; perhaps that time exists in cyberspace somewhere. A human just hasn't figured out the right language to present it in yet.
It's all about time and the definitions we create of time.
I am scarfing down a pint of Haagan Dazs chocolate ice cream [whose brand name I think I once heard has an interesting story behind it] as I type this. I'm eating totally terrible horrible killing foods today. Earlier I gobbled down a gyro platter from a Muslim street vendor, washing it down with a Snapple fruit punch--so full of corn syrup and citric acids; now I went out and came back with this Haagan Dazs and also a damn Dr. Pepper, which I may in a Texas minute pour over this chocolate ice cream. Dr. Pepper was invented by a druggest in Texas way back in the early days of soda pop adventures--all mostly coming from drugstores where they had soda fountains. These druggists mixed up syrups into which they shot spritzes of seltzer water and turned them into soda pops; syrup made with coca-nuts (source of cocaine) in the case of Coca-Cola and Moxie Cola; syrups of pepsin n the case of Pepsi; and, as they say in Texas, a syrup made of peppers (black, red, cayenne) that got the druggist who invented it to being called Doctor Pepper. Dr. Pepper at one time, next to beer, was the official Texas soda pop. My mother swore she was addicted to Dr. Peppers, and she was serious about it. So, hell yeah, I'm pourin' this Doc-ter Pepper over my chocolate ice cream...yeehaw, that's a sickening mix.
Only a wolf's stomach can endure this crap food. But, boy, is it good.
for The Daily Growler
A Daily Growler Sports Update With Marvelous Marv Backbiter
I have just returned to earth from a doubleheader between the Yankees and the Tigers out in Yankee Stadium--the House that Ruth Built that is going to be demolished soon so we can have the House that George Steinbrenner and We the People of New York City are building. I mean poor George, the Yankees are only going to sell over 4 million tickets this year. I feel so sorry for these billionaire ballclub owners--like our own "president"--heh-heh, yep, he ruined the Texas Rangers baseball team but, hell, he tricked the city of Arlington, Texas, into building a new baseball stadium for the bankrupt Rangers--after the "president" was involved in buying A-Rod from the Seattle Mariners--and then the team still was lousy, A-Rod or no A-Rod.
The Yankees won the first game of today's doubleheader, 2-0, behind some good pitching from Wang (turning out to be the Yankee's most reliable pitcher) and then a fantastic save by Mariano Rivera--getting out the side with only 4 pitches.
Then in the second game the talented bum, Jared Wright, took the hill for the Yanks and, by god, even though he gave up 2 runs right off the bat, he then settled down and pitched good baseball, the Yankees giving him a one-run lead in the sixth when they score 3 runs to lead 3-2. The Yanks hung on till the top of the ninth.
One thing that pisses me off about Joe Torre is how he sticks to the god-damn computer printout he depends on to manage. I'm sorry. I truly think that Joe Torre is the best damn manager in baseball right now, but, when it comes to using his pitchers, he's damn scary.
Going into the ninth inning tonight with a 1-run lead, it was the perfect spot for Mariano Rivera. But, no. Joe stuck to his announcement before the second game that he was determined to rest Rivera in the second game. Bad call, Joe. So Joe trots out Scott Proctor for the ninth. Now Scott Proctor on his best day is a minor major league pitcher; on his worst day he couldn't make the grade with the Staten Island Yankees. Tonight, he thought he was pitching for Staten Island. He walks the lead off batter. Then he gets an out. Then he gets another out but the runner advances to second. Then he intentionally walks the next batter to get to a weaker hitter. BOOM. Bad move, Joe. Detroit's weak hitter hits a three bagger and the Tigers go up 5-3 over the Yanks.
Jesus, I'm pulling out my hair.
What the hell am I worried about. The Yankees are still 8 games ahead of Boston and still only 3 games behind Detroit as being the winningest team in baseball.
for The Daily Growler