Ray's Substitute Thought for the Day

This thought is my substitute thought. My official thought is too complex to spell out for the nonce. So instead, I had to come up with a substitute thought. Admittedly. my substitute thought is really stupid. It is, what would happen if Jesus the Son of Man and Nazareth and or God, ran for president? This is assuming we could change the constitution so that Jesus could run.

Which party would Jesus seek the nomination, of?

What would Jesus do to raise funds?

Would Jesus support the surge?

What would Jesus have to say about the stock market?

Would Jesus promise, if elected, to continue torturing foreigners?

What about French fries?

Would Jesus get married so he would seem more, like, normal?

Would Jesus say to US, You are basically good, innocent people. So now that I have told you that your are basically good, innocent people, VOTE FOR ME. JESUS!!!!

See. I told you it was a stupid thought. Even a Sun God traninee can have a stupid thought.

Actually, the Druids, based on Jesus' past performance, might support JESUS!!!! But maybe not. Jesus past performance on the environment showed mass quantities of ignorance. Plus he broke his deal with the Goddess, or let his boys break the deal for him. Still, we might overlook all that if the alternative was worse. The alternative might very well be worse. For Goddess Sakes, the alternative might be Rudy the Fascist or some other cookie cutout Republican Mammonite imperialist liar and glutton.

Holy Smoke! What if Jesus has thrown in with the Demon Mammon? If Jesus has thrown in with the Demon Mammon, all may be lost in terms of the upcoming election. If Jesus has backslid into Mammonism, there's no point in voting, maybe.

Er. I have a confession to make. The above thought is mostly not my thought. It is mostly Crumby's thought. My thought was not ready, so I borrowed one of Crumby's.

Used Camera Ad

For sale is my wonderful dslr camera that I love so much because it takes such beautiful pictures. However, I must sell my almost brand new camera because my pet monkey, Petey, has figured out how to open the memory card door. Petey, darn him, takes the memory cards out of the compartment and hides them around the house. No matter where I hide the camera, Petey somehow finds it. Then he takes the memory card out. Not only that, Petey always latches the memory door back after he takes the memory card out. I never know when I have memory anymore, or when I don't. So I must either get rid of my beautiful, almost brand new camera, or get rid of Petey. But Petey is a very old monkey and has been in the family for years so it would be almost impossible to find Petey a new home. Bottom line, the camera must go.

This is an almost brand spanking new dslr camera in immaculate condition except for the monkey finger nail scratches on the memory compartment door. The scratches are barely noticeable, only visible when you actually look at the memory card compartment door. Goodness! Petey may have also have hidden the warranty card. Good luck bidding!

Oh look, way up there. That's Petey, asleep. Isn't that sweet. Petey has his prehensile tail in the laser collimator. What's that he's holding?

Ray's Thought for the Day - My Bosom Companion

My bosom companion, Crumby, is in charge of the water pipes. Yesterday evening, one of those pipes, of the ancient, galvanized variety broke, underground. Crumby happened to be on the spot where the lake was forming between the pecan grove and the east pasture. So espying the lake and suspecting its source, Crumby journeyed off to the west pasture to turn the water off. Then Crumby journeyed back to the east pasture, pecan grove interphase area where Crumby, employing his trusty billdukey, badgered out an excavation in the middle of the lake. Lo and behold, there was the hole in the pipe, squirting water yet.

Crumby journeyed back to the west pasture. Arriving at the water cutoff hole, Crumby decided to crank on the cute little red cutoff faucet handle a tad more. Applying a manly grip Crumby twisted hard. Lo, the little dial spun still. Crumby twisted harder. Lo, the little dial spun still. Crumby applied maximum manpower. The cute little faucet handle came plumb off in Crumby's hand. Lo, the little dial spun still.

Crumby decided to inventory the situtation. Crumby journeyed from water outlet to water outlet. Off. Off. Off. But the broken pipe squirted furiously, yet. "Dang it", hollered Crumby, "I have no water anywhere but here. This is a very bad situation. No water in the Boy's Comfort Station means no ablutions. Plus, however shall I slake my thirst. Plus, how shall I fix this leak with water squirting out of it forming up this aquatic environment. Plus, the handle out front is now broke. I know what to do. I shall throw a temper tantrum."

So then, Crumby threw a temper tantrum and was, consequently, no longer in charge of the water pipes. Meantime, Rayetta dialed 911. Soon, a great many police were on the scene, investigating the emergency. Rayetta explained to the police that Crumby had used excessive manpower, maybe, on the city side of the water line and that the city needed to fix their water line. The police called a plumber. Soon, a kindly yet efficient plumber arrived and fixed us up, temporarily, so that even Crumby, post temper tantrum, was allowed to complete his nightly ablutions.

Hold it! Something's coming in from the DNS.

_____

Ray sugar. I'm OK. I'm safely ensconced in Barrack Room Ballads. See you Friday as planned.

Triplet Kisses,

Hope
_____

Er. This is a strange message from my beautiful girlfriend. Is she enduring perils of which, I know not?

US Culture Today - An Intermittent Newsy News Feature - Druid News Service (DNS) - Ms. Hope Remains, Ace Reporter - Reporting

Hello there regular people and boys. This is Ms. Hope Remains, Ace Reporter. Goodness gracious sakes alive!!!! Here I find myself in Pakistan, the Himalaya Mountains towering off in the distance, close by. Yep, I’m in the general vicinity of the Hindu Kush, all righty then. Yep, I have secreted myself among the entourage of Chitlin and Associates. Chitlin and Associates, as you may know, are presently browsing across Asia, putting a dent in the scanty larders of the miserable Asians. Yep, Chitlin and Associates ate up a whole white tiger for breakfast. How about that! Mercy!

Anyway, here’s how I got myself secretly included in the entourage. I found out that Chitlin has been studying up on the culture of the miserable Asians. Chitlin even went so far as to read a bunch of books trying to find an example of positive miserable Asian behavior in the literature. Chitlin read and read, his studies only interrupted by regular meals and snacks. Finally, after lots of reading, Chitlin found the example he was so eagerly searching for, Gunga Din. Goodness gracious, right there in that little tome, Barrack Room Ballads, Chitlin found the optimal behavioral model for a miserable Asian. Plus, Chitlin was so impressed by Gunga Din that he has a copy of Barrack Room Ballads with him, in his suit pocket. I am in that book, disguised as a silverfish. You know, silverfish, a primitive wingless insect.

Goodness gracious sakes! Chitlin and Associates are meeting over lunch with the affable Pakistani dictator, Mr. Pervez Musharraf, at this very nonce. Chitlin is muttering. Let’s listen in.
_____

Umh, humh, Pervez, I have been studying the culture of you miserable Pakistanis and it appears that your culture is in decline. You, Pervez need to set a better example, an example more like the great self-sacrificing miserable Asian, Gunga Din. What I need you to do is go up in the mountains. Also, order a good many of your blackfaced crew to go along too. Then, start shooting the place up. Get the local blackfaced ’eathens stirred up. We need them running around outdoors. Then once those miserable blackfaced ‘eathen are all stirred up, I shall give the command to cluster bomb the bejesus out of them.

But Mr. Chitlin, honorable sir, how will the cluster bombs distinguish between the good and the bad blackfaced heathens. Magnificent sahib, the cluster bombs may be accidentally dropped on your humble bhisti, me, Pervez.

Umh, humh. These are smart cluster bombs Pervez. These cluster bombs are programmed to the exacting equivalent standards of Microsoft XP - Home Edition. So you have nothing to worry about.

All righty then, most honorable sahib punjab Mr. Chitlin. I shall go immediately off to the mountains with only my goatskin water-bag and my miserable blackfaced crew for company.

Umh, humh. Pervez, for all your dirty ‘ide, you are white, clear white inside. But now before you go, from our luncheon here you know, fetch me a second helping, Gunga Din.
_____

Goodness gracious sakes alive! The affable dictator, Mr. Pervez Musharraf, is heading off to the mountains with only a twisty rag covering his genitals and a goatskin water-bag. Mercy! I sure hope he avoids the cluster bombs. He is so polite, and well, affable. OK. I feel the need for a little sustenance myself so I shall crawl back into the spine of Barrack Room Ballads and eat some glue. Ray sugar, I shall be home Friday night. And all you home viewers, Watch Out for the Wickerman!!!!

Ray's Thought for the Day - A Cathartic Reunion

Sniff. Er, yepper, getting together with my cousins was purgative all righty then. The tears fell like rain.

There were my cousins, those ground hugging bastards, hugging the ground, still, after all these years. Generally, ground hugging bastards like the Rapistrums are more gypsy-like, moving from place to place as opportunity affords. But with the suspension of natural succession in many parts, there are, these days, opportunities to settle down permanently, maybe. Yikes! I hope they don't get sprayed.

Rapistrum rugosum flowers are very difficult for me to photograph. I am not sure why that is. Perhaps my emotions, plus the copious mist in my eyes, cloud my watery view of the LCD screen on the C 5060 in bright light.

Meet the Bastards

There we were. Mere babes, turned out by our adoptive parents, the kindly aquatic moles that had once suckled us to their ample bosoms. Yes, there we were, Rayetta and me, toddlers, toddling along the busy highway. Our diapers pooped.

Yet, there also came Dr. Badgemagus Swineherd, botanizing along from pavement’s edge right on up the backslope of that great, busy highway. I shall ne’er forget Dr. Swineherd’s foretelling what he foretold as he chanced to espy Rayetta and me, Ray. “What have we here, then? Little orphan bastards, is it. I shall take ye twain home with me. And ye shall labor day and night in my herbarium. But what shall I name ye? Ha! I know. Ye toddle amid the Rapistrum rugosum, so I shall name ye Ray, and er,let’s see now, ye, Rayetta. And the twain of ye shall I also wise up to the ways of the Druidry, once we get those diapers changed.”

So now I have come back to that very spot where it all began, amid the Rapistrums, bastards, every one of them. Boo hoo. I canna hep but think of these Rapistrums as kinfolk. Boo hoo hoo. It’s like a reunion. Boo hoo hoo hoo. Er. Hold it while I compose myself. Sniff. There now. All righty then. Let’s meet some of my cousins.

Meet Ray Earl Pistrum. Ray Earl wound up habitating in a pavement crack.

Meet Ray Lowell Pistrum. Ray Lowell sprawls across the ecotone, towards pavement’s edge.

Meet a tall drink of water, Ms. Ray May Pistrum. She has stem leaves and flowers already. She habitates up near the fence.

Meet Ray Baby Pistrum. Ray Baby has to share a room with a dang Prickly Poppy (Argemone aurantiaca). Watch out for those spines, Ray Baby.

Hold it again. This all makes me too sad. Boo hoo hoo.

Ray's Thought for the Day - Rocket Salad (Eruca sativa)

Yesterday, after I procured my delicious cinnamon bun, I happened to espy a plant unknown to me. Help me, help me I cried. Soon another Druid arrived who recognized the strange new plant and came very close to recalling its name. Later this new plant was pronounced to be none other than rocket salad (Eruca sativa). Here is a picture of its flowers.

Research reveals that rocket salad originated in Mediterranean parts, but is now enjoyed in west Texas, Mexico and now, these parts. Is this an example of balance? One mustard disappears (Streptanthus bracteatus) and another one turns up. Maybe, maybe not.

Crumby - Water Ecology for Dummies, Er, I Mean Rocket Scientists

Sadly, a great many that pass themselves off as scientists also find no contradiction between the science they may practice in their daily lives and such creative opinions as creative design, or perhaps the slightly less advanced opinion, The Lord shall provide. Yessir, many of our engineers and scientists, even some rocket scientists, may need some help from time to time, sorting their opinions from their facts. But no help shall be forthcoming from the Druids. For that lot, those mixed-up rocket scientists, the Druids offer only satire.

Let us see. We have the former Colorado River all dammed up these days. Behind the dams we have lakes. Presumably, lakes work by holding water. The rocket scientists in charge of the lakes make down grade decisions regarding the lake water. Upgrade decisions on refilling the lakes are left up to, the Lord. Yepper, the Lord giveth and the rocket scientists taketh away.

Now that we have a basic understanding on how lakes work, consider the Lord’s role of providing the input. The Lord could, theoretically, if he so chose, direct a bunch of clouds to sit over the lakes and rain directly on the lakes, thus filling the lakes up, balancing the rocket scientists’ deductions. But for reasons known only to the Lord, he does not work in that mysterious way. Instead, the Lord tests the rocket scientists regularly to see if they have faith in him. The rocket scientists call these testing events, droughts.

The rocket scientists, however, always have plenty of faith, and plenty of water in the lakes too. Plus the rocket scientists always have a numerical quantity expressing how much water is still available for down grade. This numerical quantity is generally expressed as the Druid equivalent “a tousand, maybe two tousand acre feet.”* “Fret not water consuming public, we have a tousand or maybe two tousand acre feet in the lakes. That’s plenty of water for a great multitude, if this other great multitude over here conserves their tousand or so acre feet.”

The Lord, meantime, is temporarily making his job harder by refusing to place rain clouds directly over the lakes. The Lord is also making his job harder, temporarily heating up the lakes so that the water evaporates faster. Then too, the Lord is, considerably assisted by the rocket scientists, temporarily preventing runoff from entering the lakes. Er. Perhaps, this last Lordly task requires elucidation. The Lord prevents rain water from entering the lakes in many mysterious ways. The rocket scientists help the Lord out with this task by interdicting the down grade flow, so that nasty, germy water does not get in the lakes.

All righty then. To sum up, the Lord is temporarily refusing to put rain clouds directly over the lakes. The Lord is also temporarily evaporating more water from the lakes. And the Lord is willfully allowing some rain water for mysterious purposes. Yet, the rocket scientists have a tousand or maybe two tousand acre feet of water in reserve. That’s plenty for the time being. Plus the Lord shall provide, more.

Here at the CB, the ground is cracked and the little ones thirst. All the little seedlings cry out, “We’re thirsty, please give us some water.” Mercy! If these little seedlings die of thirst, shall the Lord, then temporarily, make it even hotter and drier in these parts. Goodness! We must ask the rocket scientists what the Lord, knows.
_____

* When Druids don't know a precise number, Druids use the phrase, maybe one tousand, maybe two tousand, to indicate an imprecise numerical quantity.

The Ark Druid

Ray's Thought for the Day - Water Walker

Yesterday, I thought maybe I would get to go down to the lake and listen to Mr. Obama's pep talk to the disenfranchised. Instead, I hunted grasshoppers in the wilderness. But later, I got to watch some of the pep talk on the TV.

There I was, ensconced in my favorite Lazy Boy recliner, my bosom companion, Crumby, at my side, my Moon Goddess girlfriend, Olwen, on my lap. Lulu on Olwen's lap. My Lazy Boy is sturdy. That is a considerable mass for my Lazy Boy to support.

So we are all of us watching the show and I am trying to pay attention to the pep talk. However, while paying attention to Mr. Obama I suddenly began to think about something Mr. Obama should do that might get the disenfranchised throng seriously worked up. What Mr. Obama should do, I thought to myself, is, Mr. Obama should do a miracle. Mr. Obama should hop down off the platform, stroll across Auditorium Shores, cool as can be, shaking hands and schmoozing along until he gets to the actual watery surface of Town Lake. Then he should holler out, "Watch This!!!!"

"Yikes!!!! Look, look, Mr. Obama is water walking," everyone cries out. Plus everyone watching at home also hollers out that glad cry, "Look, look, Mr. Obama is water walking on the TV." Yepper. A miracle now and then should peg up the old fund raising totals a notch or two.

Interesting that I get these visions, twice now, watching Mr. Obama on the TV, a major departure from the visions I get from watching the Kinglet, Chitlin and Associates. Hold it. I am getting another vision. My delicious cinnamon bun is approaching.

Ray's Thought for the Day - Day 65 of DY 1

Today, instead of going off to the lake to see Mr. Obama, I had to hunt for a grasshopper. Not only that, I could not find the grasshopper. So I didn't find the grasshopper or see Mr. Obama. Nobody from the CB found the grasshopper or saw Mr. Obama, not even Hope. Hope's in Australia with Chitlin and Associates. We might get a report back from Hope on Chitlin's waddle around the outback, anon. Reckon Chitlin's et up all the red kangaroos and koala bears yet.

Chitlin's another one the Congress needs to keep home. Please Congress, give me a tax break by cutting Chitlin's travel budget. Also, Congress, while you are at it, go ahead on and pass the One Man to a Pair of Pants Legislation. That legislation is long overdue.

I bet Chitlin chews with his mouth open. I bet, for Goddess Sakes, that he talks with his mouth full. I can just see that glutton, trecherman Chitlin, spluttering with his mouth full, "Mmmmff, all the red kangaroo and koala bear options are on the table. Right? Oink. Snort."

Yep. We need to keep Chitlin home. Course we don't want him around here either, especially tomorrow when my delicious cinnamon bun is slated to arrive in these parts. If Chitlin was around in the general vicinity of my delicious cinnamon bun, I should so fear for its safety that I might entirely lose my appetite.

Crumby's Fungi - The Continuing Adventures of Exidia glandulosa

Look at the state of my poor wild ears, Exidia glandulosa, now. Would you just look at those poor, miserable, dessicated old ears. They need some nice rain water and corresponding high humidity.

Rayetta's Butterflies - Strymon melinus

It is about time. Finally, some of my butterflies have turned up including a new one for the CB, today. Hmmm. Well, (Strymon melinus) has doubtless been to the CB before today, but this is the first one I have espied, photographed and identified. Yikes! This is a very small butterfly, but also very tame. So it is 3- -1- on the Rayetta scales. Oddly, the bees and flies seem wary of it. This very small butterfly seemed to have feeding preference over the honey bees. Go figure! Yippee.

Crumby - A Water Ovation

The rain has stopped again. These parts are in for another dry spring. Only the irrigated, prosper.

Yet the immigrants continue to arrive, expecting to find plenty of water to dump on their new turf grass lawns and links. Do the immigrants bring any water with them? Course not.

Fear not, maybe. The water engineers in these parts know where the deep water holes are in the former Colorado River. Since they know where those deep water holes are, they can run a pipe into those deep holes and suck up the very deepest water in the lakes. The water engineers already also know of a high prominence or two located near those deep water holes. All they need to do is build water treatment plants on a high prominence or two, then, after a while, once everything is engineered to the most environmentally damaging, yet cheapest, specifications, sparkling clear chlorinated lake water from the deep holes shall flow out in various directions to succor the thirsty turf grass lawns and links, toilets and tubs.

Alternatively, the wily yet thirsty immigrant might consider a rain water collection system. Rain water collection systems deny runoff to the needy on your property plus the needy, down grade generally, and instead, allow you to hog all the water for your personal ablutions. The extra wily immigrant, however, will dig a well too, and, of course, get hooked up to the pipeline deep hole in the lake, water delivery service, just to be on the safe side.

Naturally, with millions of immigrants pouring in, all the water shall eventually go to human consumption. That shall prove an interesting scenario. Perhaps all else can do without. We shall see.

Ray's Thought for the Day - Insects that Visit the Boy's Comfort Station

There are a great many photogenic opportunities in the Boy's Comfort Station, but hardly any of them are appropriate for a family style venue such as this one. So last night I happened to be in the comfort station with the camera and tripod when I noticed this Geometrid because it kept landing on me. At last though, it lit on the wall because it wanted its picture taken. There are a great many of these geometrid style moths. But this is the one that visited the comfort station last night. If we see some more of these, outside, we might make an effort to determine their importance in the grand pyramid scheme that some call the human environment.

Ray's Thought for the Day - Tired

Yepper. I am weary from werkin' in the sun. Nevertheless, I felt obliged to drag myself to this venue. Duty now, for the future, maybe.

However, I don't have any thoughts worth contiributing to the venue because I am tired out. And, I had to fix leftovers for supper. Leftovers that I didn't much like the first time. Crumby, my bosom companion, do you have any thoughts to spell in the venue?

Noper, Ray, I don't. My thoughts are my own, violent, seditious thoughts.

Does anybody else have any thoughts for the venue?

Nopers.

All righty then. Watch out for the Wickerman!!!!

Crumby - Presidents’ Day

Yepper. It is indeed one of the national holidays today, Presidents’ Day. Today is the day we are supposed to remember the presidents, maybe. I have never figured out if we are supposed to remember all of them, or just some of them, or maybe just the most highly regarded ones, or maybe just the ones coincidental with our personal iterations. Whatever!

Old geezers sometimes get aggravated at youngsters who don’t know much, or anything, about our past presidents. But not me. Surprisingly, I am not bothered by that shortcoming. Because, there are more presidents now than when I was young, so the youth of today have a much tougher task than I had, when there were lots fewer presidents to know about.

Yepper. I learned all about our past presidents while serving time at Washington Irving Grade School. In those bygone days, US had only run through about six presidents. Those presidents were Washington, Jefferson, Jackson, Lincoln, Tippercanoe and Mr. Roosevelt. Mr. Roosevelt was famous for preventing scurvy from breaking out in rural Oklahoma during the depression. That’s why they put a facsimile of Mr. Roosevelt on our dimes.

Since Mr. Roosevelt departed to other parts, we have had a great many presidents coincidental with my current iteration. I should be capable of remembering them all, without much effort, but actually I must employ Druid training to remember all the different ones. Frankly, some of them are not that memorable. Without much effort though, I can easily recall which ones are on the money, most of the time. However, I would actually like to forget a couple of the ones on the money, because I don’t feel like a couple of them ought to be on the money. No president should get on the money until he’s been dead a hundred years. The one exception is Mr. Roosevelt. It’s OK for him to be on the dime even though he hasn’t been dead a hundred years, yet.

Our current administrative headache is more of a Kinglet than a president. That’s why we Druids call him the Kinglet. Surely, this Kinglet shall not buy himself on to the money, ever.

Which brings me around to honorariums for this Kinglet. What Passes for a Daily Newspaper in These Parts employs a scribe who goes by the name of John Kelso. I read Mr. Kelso’s column, rarely. But lately, I have noticed that many among the local bourgeoisie are complaining about Mr. Kelso, so I shall rise to his defense. Why? Easy that, Mr. Kelso once wrote a column dealing with the Kinglet’s future Kinglet Library, suggesting that the Kinglet’s Library should be online and virtual, rather than located at a physical address on this planet.

All righty then for that one, Mr. Kelso. Right on!!!!

Ray’s Thought for the Day - Rabbit Tobacco

This is not a follow up discussion on Crumby’s Bunny Snuff. We held that private discussion already. Er. Just to briefly touch on our private discussion we came up with a few snuff brand names that should appeal to the slightly less manly snuff user. What were some of those brand names, Crumby?

Well Ray, we came up with a goodly many. How many do you want?

Just a fair sample, Crumby.

All righty then: Lambie Pie Snuff, Honey Pot Snuff, Sugar Tits Snuff, Mariposa Snuff, Mighty Mouse Snuff, Olives Stuffed with Pimentos Snuff and Cecil’s Thistle Snuff for the slightly less manly snuff user with a lisp.

That’s probably enough, Crumby.

All righty then.

Moving ahead on, we come upon today’s basal rosette, an Evax, probably (Evax verna), also known as rabbit-tobacco. As can be seen, this rosette is smaller than a penny at this meager stage of its development. Plus, it won’t ever get a whole lot bigger. Rabbit-tobacco is fairly rare at the CB, but of widespread occurrence generally in these parts, especially on disturbed or permanently early successional limestone substrates.

Also depicted is a penny with heads up. On the penny is a worn caricature of Mr. Lincoln, appropriate for Presidents’ Day, maybe. President’s Day is not an official Druid holiday, but we take off from work, just the same. Anyway, Mr. Lincoln got US shut of state sanctioned slavery, finally. Yet many in the southland, Tejas Land Commissioner Patterson is an outstanding example, yearn for the good old days and a return to feudalism. That’s why we need so much cheap labor in the southland. Cheap labor reminds us of how good we had it before Mr. Lincoln messed up our historic lifestyles.

Then also on the penny, and all the coins, there is struck, In God We Trust. A nice touch that, having, In God We Trust, on the money.

Ray's Thought for the Day - Valerianella radiata basal rosette

Today is the 57th day of DY 1, in the season of the Polar Bear that some call also, Polaris, named for our friendly guide star. Out in the wilderness, the ground huggers struggle to survive in the cold, windy, arid conditions. Here is one of those ground huggers, Valerianella radiata, an adaptable corn salad. Yessir, this particular corn salad likes to mix it up with the non-native winter weeds in the many disturbed habitats available. Often, it can be found rubbing elbows and assholes with the likes of beggar's ticks of the genus Torilis, and catch-on-yer-clothes bedstraw (Galium aparine), three of our least recommended introduced Eurasian weeds.

Ray's Extra thought for the Day - My Delicious Cinnamon Bun

My delicious cinnamon bun did not taste right today. It was delicious, but not as delicious as usual. Or, maybe hearing that Sleeza is galavanting around in miserable Iraq, again, put me off my feed. There she went, informing the surviving miserable Iraqis that US may have doubts about them taking democracy seriously.

Since the millionaires club that passes for the US senate can't even debate the Kinglet's latest imperial whim, they should focus on cutting Sleeza's travel expenses. If they could cut Sleeza's travel budget, she might stay home and not get so much press coverage, and therefore, be less capable of putting me off my feed.

Crumby - If You Got a Wide Zoom, Why Not Use It

Typically, Wide Zoom is not much utilized here at the CB since we are generally focused in on the tiny and far away. But the tiny and far away are in scant supply for the nonce, due to the cold and dry conditions. So Rayetta says to me, "Crumby, please go do something to entertain yourself." I thought for awhile about that and then decided to see if I could take a picture incorporating the Wide Zoom feature of the camera. What's fairly wide? Er. Three snuff cans are fairly wide. Plus the economy brands feature pictures of large or ferocious animals.

I happened to have three different snuff cans around, two in the trash under a pile of dust bunnies and a new one, still nearly full of snuff. So what I did was, line them all up and take a picture employing the Wide Zoom default camera setting. Wide Zoom is what the lens defaults to when a body first turns the camera on. But enough of all the boring technical details necessitated by point-and-shoot photography.

Let's consider all those manly animals depicted on the economy snuff cans. In this example we have a longhorn, a grizzly bear and a timber wolf depicted. All these are fierce, manly animals except for the longhorn which is manly, maybe, but not especially fierce.

So this got me to considering why economy snuff can advertisers use fierce, manly animals to appeal to the casual snuff consumer instead of smaller or more sedate beasts. Personally, I would like to have a Bunny Snuff brand to choose from. I would not hesitate to select Bunny Snuff at the convenience store if Bunny Snuff tasted within my tolerance limits.

Yepper. Bunny Snuff would have a picture of a cute little fat bunny on the can. Perhaps one of those bunnies with the droopy ears, and of course, a little whiskery pink nose.

Ray's Thought for the Day - Whut it is?

Today's special guest at my thought is none other than Crumby, my bosom companion. Crumby, what is your best professional guess on, Whut it is?

Which one, Ray?

The larger of the twain, Crumby.

Er, this situation reminds of the many instances formerly in my past life as a wicked Christian when I made a great many of these, Whut it is? calls. Well dang, considering just the photographic evidence, Whut it is? Since we shall actually no whut it is?, anon, if it does not get et, there's no harm in playing this fool's game, maybe. All righty then. I guess, Sonchus oleraceus. What do you guess, Ray?

I have no guess, Crumby.

What does that mean, Ray?

It means, Crumby, that I am not gonna guess. I am gonna wait to see if you guessed, correctly. In fact, I am fixing to go water and fertilize it again, so I shall learn if you guessed correctly, sooner.

All righty then. I shall accompany you Ray, on this expedition, for I greatly desire to capture whatever is devouring the smaller of the twain.

All righty then.

All righty then.

Mr. Red Ears and Mr. Crumby Ovate Memorize Patterns

Of all the slew of pronounced prospective Kinglets, which ones have their heads up the Demon Mammon’s butt crack. Easy that, all the Republican ones are devout Mammonites, to one extent or another, so they all have their heads stuck up the Demon Mammon’s butt. But Rudy Giuliani is so far up the Demon Mammon’s butt crack, only his feet stick out. So Rudy gets the Druid endorsement for being furthest up the Demon Mammon’s butt crack. What’s Rudy’s advantage that allowed him to get so far up the Demon’s butt? Easy that, Rudy slathered on plenty of Fascist Ideology Lubricant. As a result, Rudy slithered on up more expeditiously than the rest of them.

On the Democratic side, Mrs. Clinton is also climbing on up. She’s about up to her bosoms. Those bosoms may keep her from going all the way on up. At least we hope they do. The rest of the Democratic ones, for the nonce, may be only up to their eyeballs.

How do Druids determine all this? Easy that, we consider the propensity of the prospective Kinglet to pass off monopoly capitalism, imperialism, unmonitored gluttony, and lying, as democracy. That tells us how far each one of them has progressed up the Demon Mammon’s solid waste excretory system.

Ray's Thought for the Day - Gaura sinuata rosette

See! Here is yet another basal rosette with purple spots. They're purple, just like that movie. Or maybe not quite that same color purple, but close, maybe. This gaura is a rhizomatous son of a gun. I would not swear to it, but I am fairly certain there is a gaura habitating close to this one, and those twain gauras are connected by a rhizome.

Crumby - I Pity the Miserable Iraqi Immigrants, Maybe

It is always a good idea to stay where one belongs. Yet a couple of million miserable Iraqis have fled miserable Iraq. These miserable Iraqis have indeed abandoned their homeland, refusing to stand up for Chitlin. They have indeed, run off. How will Chitlin and Associates ever get the flat tax and air conditioning up and running in miserable Iraq, if all that miserable Iraqis with money to pay the flat tax and operate an AC, run off? Where did they get the money to run off with? It takes some handy cash, to run off, with.

Oh well, ask a Bee what the Druids know regarding answers to these interesting questions, if you can identify a Bee, by yourself. Also, you may have trouble actually finding a Bee.

Anyway, the Kinglet, Chitlin and Associates have decided that US is shirking our responsibility to the miserable Iraqis that have refused to stand up for Chitlin and run off. So following our long tradition of granting asylum to various environmental refugees, we are fixing to welcome more miserable Iraqis to these shores. Previous to now, we have welcomed hardly any miserable Iraqi environmental refugees to these shores. But now we are feeling guilty about having contributed slightly to the degradation of the human environment in miserable Iraq. Here they come.

Perhaps we shall soon espy the return of Ahmed Chalabi to these shores. Remember Ahmed? Ahmed may know where the money went. Yep. Soon you may be lucky enough to espy Ahmed at your favorite shopping mall, boosting the local economy.

Ray's Thought for the Day - Slave Flash

Yep. I very nearly could have frozen to death these last two days, werkin' in the sun. Lucky to survive, I was, so when I got home to the CB and found Rayetta and Crumby experimenting with the slave flashes, I said, I want to help ye, sister and bosom companion. For I have not seen so much flash light since, I don't know when.


So that's how come I got to pose here with the slave flashes. What we are trying to figure out is how far the C5060 can be from the slaves and still trigger them. Believe it or not, the distance is important, fer us. Here, the C5060 is about 18" from the slaves. Interestingly, the slave flash on the left has brand new batteries, while the slave flash on the right has been used for maybe a tousand or maybe two tousand shots on the same batteries.* One can easily see that the slave on the left is brighter. This leads us to the conclusion that there is no possible way to control the amount of light emitted by these slave flashes. But that's OK. Light is light.

These slave flashes are almost too cute. Naturally, because they are almost too cute, I am having disturbing polymorphous erotic thoughts about them. Rayetta says that's exactly why we got two slave flashes, so they could watch out for each other.
_____

* When Druids don't know a precise number, Druids use the phrase, maybe one tousand, maybe two tousand, to indicate an imprecise numerical quantity.

The Ark Druid

Ray's Thought for the Day - Englemannia

A monotypic genus. Engelmannia pinnatifida rosette in a little bluestem crowd.

In private, it is lotsa fun to spell the genus name, Engelmannia, Engelmania. And actually, there is an imbalance of the mind that only afflicts botanists, called Engelmania. One symptom of Engelmania, is an obsession with photographing, basal rosettes.

US Culture Today - An Intermittent Newsy News Feature Provided by the Druid News Service (DNS) - Ms. Hope Remains, Reporting

Hello there regular people and boys. This is Ms. Hope Remains, Ace Reporter for the DNS. Today, utilizing my unimaginable Druidic Powers, I have actually transformed myself into a C-O-O molecule and allowed myself to be inhaled by the Kinglet. Then, continuing to employ incredible Druidic directional capabilities I navigated to right here. I am deep inside the Kinglet’s noggin, in that part of the Kinglet’s brain where the Kinglet processes all those worrisome loose ends. Goodness! There are a great many loose ends the Kinglet frets over, especially those aggravating strings on his sweat suits and pajamas. But those strings need not concern us here. Goodness, except on those occasions when the Kinglet might employ his presidential powers to strike out when he is aggravated by his pajama strings. Yikes! Our Kinglet may have taken punitive action against tiny foreign babies because his pajama strings were knotted up. Mercy!!!!

Uh, oh. The Kinglet is considering all the loose ends he must tie up, in his official capacity as temporary Kinglet, in the next two years, before he is finally turned out of the White Palace, maybe. Here we go.
_____

Uh, I, the Kinglet now have the power to arrest anyone, anywhere, never bring charges against them, uh, torture and kill them, with no questions asked. Check. No loose ends there.

Uh, I, the Kinglet now have the power to introduce the flat tax plus no air conditioning to the miserable Iranians, just like the miserable Iraqis. I need to go ahead and do that. Check. No loose ends there.

Uh, I the Kinglet need to continue prevaricating on health care, these wonderful climate improvements, immigration and all those other US culture news items that don’t effect me. Check. No loose ends there.

Uh, I am doing so swell as Kinglet, why can’t I stay on forever, or until I die, maybe? Everyone knows that I, the rightful Kinglet, am the only one who can keep the Homeland safe. I may need to stay on awhile longer than two years. I shall order the minions to get to work on that option. No check. Uh, loose end.
_____

Mercy. That’s all I, Hope Remains, can take. My molecular bonds are weakening and I have to get out of here. Goodness gracious sakes alive!!!! The Kinglet, or his legacy, maybe, wants to stay in the White Palace, forever. This is Ms. Hope Remains, signing off for the DNS. Watch out for the Wickerman!!!!

Ray's Thought for the Day - Polytaenia

Members of the parsley family, like Polytaenia, are generally considered delicious by deer and tiny herbivores. One tiny herbivore that eats them up are the caterpillars of the black swallowtail (Papilio polyxenes). So it's really important for the Polytaenias to get a big healthy basal rosette going before the caterpillars start eating on the leaves. Generally, in these parts, the caterpillars strip the stem leaves, but leave the basal rosette leaves alone. The adjacent is a late, small Polytaenia rosette.

These days, the learned have decided to call our species P. nuttallii after the intrepid Thomas Nuttall. All righty then.

Ray's Thought for the Day - Rainfall Update

Well, here most of us are on the 52nd day of DY 1, Season of the Polar Bear and I have a feeling that the wet weather we have enjoyed has petered out. It has been cold and mostly dry in these parts lately. Still, there was 0.05 in the gauge from the recent drizzle and that needs to be added in. 10.38" + 0.05" = 10.43".

In spite of the arid conditions I enjoyed my delicious cinnamon bun today. Later I got hungry again so I had oatmeal with raisins. But somebody forgot to shop around, so I was out of my official apricot jam. I had to substitute peach preserves in my oatmeal.

That additional hardship failed to deter basal rosette photography. A weaker sister, completely out of his favorite apricot jam, might have gone back to bed. But not me. Actually, I did go back to bed for an hour or so, lured thereto by the Ample Bosoms, but soon I was up and around again.

Focusing on one of our most common basal rosettes, this is (Oenothera speciosa), the pink evening primrose. It may have had some mop water with vinegar poured on it, accidentally. Also, a tiny herbivore or two, driven by hunger despite the cold temperatures, has been at this basal rosette, devouring it. For some reason, more than one winter weed in these parts has purplish splotches.

The Ugly Truth about Ball Moss (Tillandsia recurvata)

Many have cried out in despair: The ball moss is killing my tree. How do I get rid of all that ball moss? It’s killing my tree! Yes, the ball moss is killing your tree. The ugly truth is, ball moss is a vicious parasite on your favorite shade tree, gradually sucking out your tree’s happy lifestyle.

But hearken up. Here’s what you can do, despairing tree owner, worried sick about the ball moss killing your tree and sucking out its happy lifestyle. Rig up kite string in your tree. The ball moss, as seen in the adjacent photograph, shall parasitize the kite string and leave your tree alone.

Ovates Study Patterns

She's so fine, there's no tellin' where the money went!!!!

Having identified, long ago, that our US Republicans are wholly under the thumb or butt of the Demon Mammon, the Druids easily predicted that our US government, totally suborned by our US Republicans, would suffer its national treasury to be looted. That process, looting the national treasury, is roaring along at supersonic speed these days. As an added bonus, our Republicans also got to loot Saddam's treasury.

The methodology for looting the various treasuries is simple and straight forward. All the government agencies have signs out front. The signs read, Christian Patriots, Line Up Here for Free Money. After the responsible parties interview the prospective Christian Patriot, and certify that Christian Patriot as a bona fide Mammonite in Christian Patriot disguise, that Christian Patriot gets his or her free money. What happens to all the money? Well, leaving out specifics, that money is good for the economy.

Many, considering themselves afflicted by, or left out of the looting process, complain and even whine. But lo and behold, the Mammonite response to all the complaining and whining is: Stop that complaining and whining! You are fixing to undermine our efforts! Plus, you are encouraging our enemies!

Make no mistake. The Mammonites are in charge. They are authoritative, even dictatorial. Their mission is to destroy civil democracy and replace, civil democracy, with a feudal system of governance.

Footnote: The above picture is ripped off from a site that uses the picture to depict a bronze statue of the lady, Blind Justice, that is vended by that particular site. We were thinking of purchasing one of those statues to use as a paper weight or bookend, maybe. Alas, those statues were so popular they were sold out when we arrived at that site. Thus, we must be content with a picture of Blind Justice, and do without the statue.

Now if Druids were producing statues of Blind Justice, we would probably substitute sun glasses for the blindfold. We might dress her up better too, and give her a nice hat with a flower sticking up out of the nice hat. Then too, our statues would probably be pewter. Druids have long preferred pewter for statues and simulated action figures. We would probably also paint the statues in colors immitative of lichen colors. Did you know that lichen colors are very popular with many artistes that happen to express themselves by painting?

Crumby - The Trials and Tribulations of a Mid-Level Consumer

You are upgrading to a DSLR? You long for better image quality, more flexibility and a spiffy optical viewfinder that shows you most of what the sensor sees when you hold it flush against your eyeball.

Me too, maybe. But I am troubled by the prospects. My camera may be too big, or too little, too heavy or too light, or ergonomically unsuited to my grip. Dust may get on my sensor. I may have noise at high ISO levels. My pictures may have moire artifacts and jaggies. My burst mode may be retarded. My camera may be unstable, my pictures blurry. My battery life may be short. I may not be able to focus in low light. I may focus hunt. I may have no depth of field preview. My white balance may be, er, whatever. My shutter and focus motors may be noisy. My optical viewfinder may be too little, or too dim. My sensor may be too little. My lenses may not work in autofocus. My lenses may not work at all. My lenses may vignette and pincushion when they do work. My lenses may be so expensive I keep them in a safety deposit box at the bank. I may scratch, drop or lose my favorite and most expensive lens or the whole camera. I may get nose oil on my LCD. My dslr may be obsolete, before I buy it. My included free software may not do what I want it too, even if I could operate it by myself. The internal flash may shed no light. Memory is not included. Remote is not included. Bag is not included. Extra battery is also, not included. Mercy!!!!

Ray's Thought for the Day - Hard to Kill

The turf grass industry and associates have engendered the ideal of a beautiful monocultural lawn in many noggins. Or, humans may be pre-adapted to believe in the ideal of turf grass lawns. Or, snakes are easier to espy on turf grass lawns and therefore less likely to sneak up on innocent humans enjoying the turf grass lawn as opposed to some other vegetation cover that might conceal serpents.

Theoretically, if one "puts in" a hardy, lush, turf grass, or combination of turf grasses lawn, and maybe a winter weed seed crop, one may attain the ideal of a lawn that is comprised entirely of a turf grass or two, and a winter weed grass, like, for example, rescuegrass or a nice annual rye, to green up the lawn in the winter. Or, perhaps in some parts, the turf grass industry and associates have developed turf grasses that stay green all year, eliminating the need for grassy winter weeds.

Historically, maintenance of a turf grass lawn, has required lots of mowing, watering, fertilizing, herbiciding, fungiciding, insecticiding and maybe mechanical weeding to keep the lawn short, and monocultural or nearly so. Thus, a serious devotee of the ideal may need lots of equipment, cheap labor,and even some cash outlay to achieve the ideal and perpetuate the ideal. This is one reason for green fees, duffers.

A native weed that persists in these parts, even in lawns, is this one, basal rosette mode(Anemone heterophylla). Possibly, the seed that gave rise to this little basal rosette ascended into the stratosphere last spring, floated or glided around for a spell, and then, espying a good spot, parachuted earthward to this very spot, a gap in the turf grass. Then once ensconced in the turg grass gap, it germinated. Yepper, this species is hard to kill off entirely. Perhaps the offsping of this one shall parachute on to your lawn, anon.

Ray's Many Thoughts for the Day - Rainfall Update

Rainfall Update. There was 0.51" in the gauge this morning, possibly accounting for rain that fell over the last several days or nights. That’s more rain than I figured had fallen. I was very surprised to espy all that water in the gauge. So the current CB total for DY 1 is 0.51" + 9.97" = 10.38", Praise the Goddess!!!!

Rayetta is now allowing me to attend the camera lessons on a trial basis to see if I can behave myself at a camera lesson that Crumby is also attending simultaneously. The twain of us, that is, Crumby and me, are not allowed to comment upon or question any of the topics that come up in the lesson. Nor are we allowed to communicate back and forth, either vocally, or utilizing any secret Druidic finger spelling. We are, however, encouraged to pay close attention to the lesson, and afterwards, Rayetta questions us in Druidic fashion about what all we should have learned if we had paid attention. Then we have camera lab, practicing the lesson.

I have been practicing on basal rosettes. My goal is to have a full-frame picture of each basal rosette I encounter. Since basal rosettes vary in size, a lot, I must constantly do this or that with the camera and its associated equipment to get the basal rosette filling up the full frame, more or less. Caution, it’s a generally round plug in a square hole scenario.

Here’s a practice example of a little basal rosette about the size of an actual quarter. (Draba cuneifolia), maybe, notice the hairs are branched. You may also notice the Geranium on the left. In these parts, a geranium is likely to crowd into every basal rosette photo one takes. The C5060 WZ can take these kind of pictures without any supplemental attachments, employing manual focus, plus automatic focus, plus aperture priority, plus macro mode. I can’t remember if this was cropped after or not, dang it. Hold it. Photo Paint tells me this information. Yes it's slightly cropped.

More exciting basal rosette photos are upcoming, anon, someday.

But now I am distracted and wish to discuss (Veronica arvensis), also known by a great many vulgar appellations including “neckweed”, but you may know it as a speedwell. It’s one of the most common lawn weeds in these parts. Veronica arvensis flowers are fairly tiny, maxing out at 3mm in diameter. So its hard to get a good look at one of them. But if you have an old 50mm /f 1.7 film camera lens you may be able to hook it up backwards on your digital and get a nice closeup. The image next door is uncropped.

Now, I have learned, thanks to the excellent Mr. Wrotniak, that the frame size of my camera sensor is 5.3mm x 7.1mm. So I can now figure out what part of the frame this flower takes up using the particular equipment used to take the photo.

Addendum: This last rainfall entry is troubling and may be an indication that somebody forgot to empty the gauge. Oh, there was some rainfall, just not 0.51" maybe. On the other hand, maybe not, there were no dead bugs in the rain gauge so maybe the new total is correct after all.

Ray's Thought for the Day - Photographing Winter Weed Basal Rosettes

The importance of winter weed basal rosettes in nature, considering all of them at once, is both incalculable and unknown. Plus, we can only speculate wildly on all the benefits these many basal rosettes may provide to the general public. There is a possibility that the winter weed basal rosettes are all that is holding global incineration at bay, for example.

All that said, they are a challenge to an amateur photographer like myself. Yet they are a photographic challenge that I need to accept, once climatic conditions in these parts permit. What I am hinting at is that winter weed basal rosettes are important beyond the capacity of our feeble imaginations to realize, but the importance of these winter weed basal rosettes is hard to capture, photogenically.

Nevertheless, I shall continue onward, weather permitting, with my efforts to capture the true importance of these kindly plant parts, digitally. I just will not have all the photographs indicating their importance ready by Imbolc, our winter weed festival, now two days past. All righty then. Once I take care of this delicious cinnamon bun, I shall return to winter weed basal rosette digital photography idealization.

Winter Weed Festival!!!

Most winter weeds like to funnel water toward their roots, a good idea in these parts.