Patience is a virtue or picking dingleberries on a cool spring day

Unlike most people I was born in an elevator on the way up to the third floor of our local bank dropping off samples of cardboard for the bank manager's wife who happens to love cardboard. So, even from an early age, my life seems to be filled with waiting. I wait in line at the bank. I wait for the mail. I wait for a line to open up at Walmart and watch Hector and his wife jump in front of me in the line that just opened up. As I get older I should be getting used to the wait. But it would seem the opposite is happening. Perhaps it's an accumulation of hours of waiting that have done in my patience capability. Watching the young enter into the new world of waiting gives someone such as me, with a little wear and tear, the urge to scream at them and yell, "Get out of line while there's still time. You're young and you have your whole lives in front of you. Don't give in to the lie. You will get older and more frustrated. No one cares how much your feet hurt or back aches. You're gonna be listening for hours to automated answering services when you call customer service. There's still a chance to get off this ride. You're young and hopeful. Look what it's done to me. I looked like you once. There were no lines running across my forehead and bags accumulating under my eyes. This is just the beginning of a slow painful death and you still have a chance. Run, Forest, Run!!!" Forest Gump was right but he stopped the speech a little bit too short. My momma always said Life's like a box of chocolates. You never know what you're gonna get. But one things for sure. Once you eat enough of life you're gonna get the runs. But Forrest was right. Every time you step into line you just never know who you're gonna meet. Could it be that elderly lady who waits till the cashier's placed the last item into the bag when she remembers she has to find her checkbook and start filling out the check. (We've all been there. Her hand trembles as she battles the arthritis and bad reading glasses to make out her illegible writing. Then, after hours of trying, she hands it to the clerk and asks if they'll fill it out for her.) Or the young mother with one too many kids who always has that one that likes to stare at you and you feel the glare pierce through your very soul. Or the man who knows for a fact that the item was definitely $8.73 instead off $8.98 and could they check that price for him? Yes, life's a box of chocolates that you wish were small little grenades you could lob at those people as you feel that last ounce of courage fade away as they've taken another five minutes of your life you will never get back. It is in these instances that I begin the dream sequences of my life. Those moments when I ponder life, the universe, and everything. I dare to dream an alternate reality. A place where I magically transport to the front of the line. Where no one's ever heard a child scream at the top of his lungs that he's tired and hungry and just wants that candy bar you promised him if he was good. A magic place where seating is provided and no one would jump in line ahead of you and everyone keeps track of who was before them. A place where people remember where their check book is and have their money ready to pay upon completion of their shopping checkout. A world where a CSR is really a customer service representative and not some small asian lady from Hong Kong who is just trying to make 12 cents that day by working for a phone company half way around the world. That's where I go to hide while I wait. And then, every so often, it happens. There isn't anyone else in line and the little light is on indicating the line is open and the person at the register gives you a little smile and says, "I can take you right here. How are you today?" And they immediately and expertly drag your items across the scanner and you're walking out the door not sure what universe you just left but you feel better for the experience. Or that moment when you hear the business answer your call and the person sincerely wants to help you figure out why you're favorite show can't be displayed on your tv. Or that moment of ecstasy when your order is all there when you get home and there's napkins and ketchup and everything and you know someone with an i.q. in the triple digits was working that day. I do believe many alternate realities exist and somehow we cross over to a reality filled with caring and responsible intelligent people who just want to work to benefit society as a whole and not collect a paycheck in anticipation of that next job where they'll finally receive the fame and fortune that should be theirs rather than another 8 hour day filled with people with little patience left. I know I'm not alone but on some days the world seems so alien to me I just wonder how far I was under when "they" took me and transported me to this harsh and desolate place where the I has taken over the WE. And so I wait for the return visit. When I was little I would stand so quiet in line for my milk. The cook would smile at me and say, "There you go little one." Life wasn't so bad in that line. But that was 40 years ago and now I wait in line at Walmart for my milk. At least there's the dingleberry hunt to keep me occupied. My name is Rueuhy and I approve this blog.

Genetics cannot be influenced by your breakfast cereal

There are two types of people. I could give you examples of this type versus that type such as fry people versus baked potato people but that's been way overdone. Actually it boils down to common sense. For years now, scientists have been proving this theory by contacting the federal and state agencies requesting grants for this or that research and there are those who lack enough common sense who give these scientists the money while the scientists kick back in their laboratories and watch the Jerry Springer show. As far as they are concerned their research is validated without lifting a vile or a beaker. And, thus, is the pudding with the proof. Common sense is the one attribute of the human experience that cannot be bought, taught, sold, borrowed, manipulated, or copied. It cannot be surgically enhanced or increased with medication. It is the rarest possession a person can own and cannot be stolen. The only thing that can influence a person's measured abundance is the other human commodity we call feelings. You're angry - you kill. Common sense would tell you that it's not worth it to go to jail. You fall in love with that looney woman that walks and looks like an angel but has an i.q. of 85 and lacks the ability to understand the universe outside of her 5 ft. radius. Common sense is important and valuable but we give way to the heart and hormones. And political rhetoric. We oooh and aaaah over pretty words and what we want to hear and somewhere within are cerebral cortex something misfires and we hush our brains and that voice from within that tells us this man/woman is lying to us. We just can't seem to find the high ground upon which we were meant to stand. The slop bucket tastes good when you're hungry. Like hungry for hope and change. When the world doesn't make sense and those words seem to be correct but there's no common sense to them. Then there are those who listen to the common sense and appear to be callous and cold to the influence of those silver tongued snakes in the grass. For years I sensed (common sense gives you that sixth dimension where there's no actual smell but you know the rhetoric stinks) that that charismatic man was gonna lead our country down a dark path that may be impossible to back track from. I verbally warned people. I rolled my eyes whenever I saw his face on a magazine cover or the latest droolings from some "news" outlet on tv. Where was people's common sense I wondered? How did we go down the rabbit hole and get past Alice? Why is gasoline at such a high price when we could produce it so cheaply from our own vast resources? Where is the common sense? Now genetically we have changed as a species. You can't add all those chemicals and introduce emf fields from all the electricity wired throughout our country without modifying the genetic structure of its inhabitants. Give a little thought to the glass of water you just drank. It's filtered poop. Or the cob of corn you ate at that cookout last Saturday? But that's fresh from the farmer's market you say. Well, unless it was organically grown in the purest soil without influence from the polluted air or treated water it was given to grow, you ate a product that was treated with herbicides, insecticides, ammonia, and probably a hundred man-made chemicals that has changed it's genetic structure. You chose (common sense is overridden by the body's need to replenish it's energy source) to eat that. You even added butter/margarine which came from a cow or taken out of some vegetable or plant the margarine was made from. Now consider that cow and what it was fed. Pretty unpure stuff I imagine. So goes our food chain and water we depend upon. And we've altered nature in the name of science and society. It is in our need to prove ourselves with scientific research and bettering our society that common sense left the house so long ago. So, as I said, it really does boil down to two types of people. Those born with common sense and those who are lacking of it. And the problem, at it's very core, is the inability of those with common sense to override these choices made out of pride that effect the general population and those who fundamentally already lack common sense and genetically produce more offspring who contain even less common sense. The term "good head on his/her shoulders" has lost its relevance. We may have the good head but our hearts and pride get in the way of what that head should be telling us. And we continue to prove our superiority over all the other species to the point we are killing ourselves off through genetic modification. Our hearty and rational selves are going away in the name of science and progress. When will it end? What will bring about our demise? Well, a few key scientists, using "free" grant money which came out of some very wealthy, charitable redistributors in Washington, are working on that as we speak. They've given up on finding a solution. They're just trying to figure out the date and time of our demise. My name is Rueuhy and I approve this blog.

Past, Present, and Future

The concept of time has been the subject and review of philosophers and scientists since man could communicate with each other. Very few understand it but all are consumed by it. The thought of time, the passage and misuse, is so ingrained into our thinking that the brief lapses in conscience that provide an escape from it are so valuable to us we pay top dollar for it. So, in this blog I will reveal the secret of time itself. Take a minute (five minutes for those of you who are really slow) and ponder the complexity of time and boundaries we lie within in its grasp. Try to go one day without looking at a clock or other form of timepiece and allow the seconds to unravel without your participation. As an adult, under its constraints, it's virtually impossible. Time is the master of most and the refuge of all. It is a concept so familiar yet so strange and deceptive. Many do not feel they have enough and others wish it would unwind at a faster rate. So what is this thing called time? Is it a dimension by which the universe, and all that is in existence, is defined by? Is it merely a concept of the human reality that is not real at all but rather a biological necessity that is part of our sanity? Did Styx really have "Too much time on their hands"? Is time really the biggest enemy or greatest friend we have? The idea of time in a structured form is different than time in our structure. The basic explanation of time can go something like this - Time is a measurement in the parameters based upon man's position within the world he lives in. So, based upon man's measurement which is controlled by the alignment of matter within the universe such as the rotation of the moon around the earth, the earth orbiting the sun, and the sun's travel within it's defined field of travel, time itself can only be as stable as the world it exists within. So, much as the world is in decay, time itself is within a ratio based upon that decay or decomposition. For instance, a bouncing ball, unleashed from a starting point will continue bouncing down a given path limited by it's potential energy and will continue but will slow down. A car will start, accelerate, and move forward but is dependent upon the capacity of fuel required to power its engine, and it's ability to remain on a stable course of motion forward. A runner will take his/her initial step but that person's travel is dependent upon the shoes they wear, fatigue, energy stored within their bodies and a healthy burning of calories to enable the muscles and organs to function at an allowable depletion of that energy. Time is under similar constraints but in more diverse complexity. Time, if it has a beginning, must be under the same universal stipulations of all things in a created universe. Even if a theory of a big bang construction of the universe were true, time would have a beginning and thus unravel with the expansion such as the boundaries of the universe have been doing. The perception of time as a constant measurement can only hold in a perfect state if time itself was a force or element outside of a expanding or contracting capsule such as the universe. Under the very law of physics and nature, time would see the same effects felt by the universe if its creation had a beginning. So, under Rueuhy's theory of time unravel, time in a structured form, would have the appearance similar to an old LP album on a record player with the needle being the symbol of the present. The past would be at the greater diameter of the record and the future would be the center of the album. As time was started (someone has to plug the record player in and hit the button don't they) the needle commenced a journey on the outer ring of the record. As time decays, such as the universe is in, the needle moves along the grooves and plays a song that we all hear. As that needle travels it revolves a little quicker as it makes it's journey to the center and it's demise. As we hear the music play, and experience a familiar movement along with the needle, our reality is based upon what our sensory input tells us is happening. We have a sense of time unraveling but relative to us it feels like a constant. If we take ourselves out of the picture, and the bigger picture can be seen from afar, we realize that we are limited to the needle but do not position ourselves at a set point on the record. If that were possible our existence would be in direct violation of the laws of physics and consciousness itself. We feel time drag on based upon life's influences upon us at the given moment and we can also feel time unravel at a faster pace if life's influences push us into a different direction. The only way we could prove this theory on time unraveling would require the observer to step outside of the realm of time and take a measurement from the outside and also take a measurement from a different point of time and do a comparison. Because time is an un-physical element we have no possibility of a true measurement of time but can only incorporate the measurement through our own experience and structure around us. The sun goes up and goes down. The sun travels through the universe. The earth travels around the sun. If time is marked and recorded through these parameters then we do not have a true fix on the movement of time and only a human measurement of it. We base time on our perception and not it's true decomposition. This can be the only explanation for a fixed calender, length of a second, and our feeling that time seems to go by quicker every year we live. Time is literally running out and we feel rushed to catch up to it. There is no way to stop it's unraveling and it's a force that is defined within the universe/creation as we can only perceive it. Deja Vu is another concept but there's a lot of stripping involved with that so we'll save that for another day. Which will come sooner than the last one. My name is Rueuhy and I approve this blog.

Freedom and terror

The following is an account of an episode that occurred in a pasture located near the house I grew up in. The names have been changed to protect the innocent. While helping my grandpa, who's name also happens to be the same as my name, except he actually had a different first name but went by his middle name which is my first name, I got the urge to drive my grandpa's truck. Now, I was five years old and really didn't have much driving experience but he was grandpa so they are pretty open to everything the grandchildren ask for. So, very innocently, I asked him if I could drive his truck. "Sure little buddy." That was him joking around with me but I was being serious. So I asked him if he was fully insured and who his agent was and he just told me that he didn't need any insurance in the pasture. Funny how some things come back to bite us in the butt but I digress ... Anyway, he had parked the truck on a hillside and left the keys in the ignition. It was the early 70's and in a pasture and the biggest threat back then was Tommy McGrady but that's a whole other story. So, there I was, with my grandpa's permission, and a 1970 Ford F150 pickup. Not really sure if the year was 1970 but it was pretty close. And the keys were just dangling. And I did have his permission (please note the previous reply from my grandpa when I asked if I could drive his truck was an approving "Sure little buddy"). So, while he was busy with the cows I walked up to that old white beast (the truck not Tommy McGrady) and tore open the driver's side door. Now, being five and only two feet tall did not dissuade me from driving. In fact, I didn't think much through at that moment. All I remember was Grandpa said Yes!! So I crawled up that big step and crawled up onto the seat. There I was. A driver. Now, I was pretty sharp for a five year old but had never received a driving lesson before. No one explained to me proper braking or use of the accelerator pedal. But I did know this - if you turned the key to the right it would start. So far so good. I turned the key. The engine started and there was a grinding noise accompanying it. So I let go of the key. Now I was pretty focused so I didn't see my grandpa waving his arms wildly about but as an adult I can make that guess. Nor did I hear him shouting crazily at me. But once again, as an adult, I can probably guess that as well. Now, as an inexperienced driver I wasn't really aware of mirror position or proper seat alignment or anything like that. I was five and my feet didn't even touch the pedals yet. But, I could stand in front of the steering wheel and I could pull that lever down. I didn't really understand a gear shifter or the politics of drive and reverse but I did know from watching my dad and grandpa that if you wanted to drive that lever had to be pulled. Unbeknownst to me, my grandpa had already started running up the hill to stop me which I really would have enjoyed as an adult now if I could travel back in time and watch this unfold. So, the truck was now in drive. The other unknown factor I left out was the angle and slope of the hill the truck was parked on. It was facing downhill and there was a little bit of a slope to the hill. In fact, there was enough of a slope that it was unnecessary to even step on the accelerator. As I said before, I had never taken a single driving lesson and already the truck was in drive and I was driving!!! How exciting. I could barely see out the windshield but I did hear the banging on the side of the door. My grandpa, in his late 40's or early 50's, (it was the 70's so who can honestly remember?) was running alongside of the truck as it was starting to build up speed. I believe the only thing that saved us was me pulling the steering wheel and the truck started going back up the hill. I was not able to step on the accelerator but grandpa was able to finally open the door and stop the truck. The barn at the bottom of the hill would have stopped us and I do believe that would have made for an even more interesting story but the facts are what they are. I don't remember much after that. I don't remember Grandpa yelling and screaming at me or being dragged through the pasture back to my house. I don't remember if Tommy McGrady ever showed up. But I do remember that first moment of being behind the wheel and the feeling of being able to go anywhere. It has stayed with me to this very day. Also, that look of terror on my grandpa's face as he was running alongside the truck and pounding on the driver's side door. That look has always stayed with me. So, from my earliest memories come freedom and terror. I guess they had their grip on me all the way back to when I was five and they've never let go. Which is good in some ways. But now, when the moment is right, and some unsuspecting elderly gentlemen is walking on the sidewalk I'll yell "Catch me if you can" and drive off. There's still that look of terror but it will never match that look from so many years ago. And the freedom has lost its glimmer as well. My name is Rueuhy and I approve this blog.

Do it for the children

One of the most effective tools in the arsenal of advertisers (and I must include charitable organizations) is guilt. How often does it play a role in our lives? Well, if you don't know the answer you're failing at being a compassionate and understanding human being. And this is basically how guilt works in the commercial world. The commercial world is basically the world filled with commercials. Even drive-through's and convenience stores play at our heart strings. Have you ever got the munchies cravings around mid-morning and decided to stop at your local gas/convenience store? You walk in and there's a shamrock shaped paper lining the wall near the cash register with the latest test of conscience. If you cared you would purchase this shamrock piece of paper because we'll put your name on it so society will know you're not a low life who can't afford to pay a dollar to show your allegiance with the latest non-profit organization our corporate executives have decided would look good to promote. Or the big glass jar with the 3" x 4" paper taped to the side for the next surgical procedure a customer or friend will undergo that you almost push off the counter as you're just trying to pay for your soda? This is where it gets interesting. When asked about the person whose face is plastered on the jar the attendant will inform you in one of two ways - they don't personally know the person but heard they're a good cause or the person is their best friend or sister or uncle who raised them after a tragic auto accident killed their parents. They will have an answer and it will make you feel guilty if you leave without dropping your change in the jar. It has become very common practice at McDonalds to ask for a donation for something every time you go through the drive-thru. In fact, your order is not complete until you've been asked if you would like to donate a small, one time only donation, of one dollar to the Ronald McDonald playhouse or some other organization that McDonalds is affiliated with. And that's not all. At the pay window you will see that a permanent structure has been built into the wall to catch your change if you happen to drop it in the correct moment. And let's not forget mother's day and valentine's day or the other commercial holidays that have been invented to make us feel like we're pathetic wretches if you we forget or do not purchase the "just right" gift and card that is required after living past you're tenth birthday. What kind of human being forgets or doesn't buy the right gift? How could you be so unkind and uncaring to not spend hours and money looking for the perfect gift. And then the reaction when your mother knows that "yes, my Johnny does love me and he went all the way with a Hallmark brand card". Or how many men have faced the wrath of a forgotten anniversary or birthday or valentine's day all together? The scenario goes like this - Johnny, or we'll go with John, has a deadline at work and goes in early to try to finish by the deadline set forth by his boss (who happens to have a mother). John skips lunch and works extra late because the boss (who loves his mother more than John loves his mother because the flowers that John's boss purchased were $20 more than John paid) has made it perfectly clear John will lose his job (which means losing his house and car and groceries and whatever else John uses his paycheck for) if he does not complete the assignment. John leaves work that night triumphant in the knowledge that his family will remain secure and the bills will be paid. John drives home (dinner will be cold or non-existent but that's okay, he still has a job in the morning) with a feeling of oneness with the universe because he's accomplished the impossible and his boss won't yell at him in the morning. Of course his boss will just say "Looks like you finished that assignment. Thanks." and that's all John really needs. But when John opens that door and sees the special pizza his wife had delivered and the cheese has gotten cold John suddenly loses his grip on oneness with the universe and realizes something is wrong. John asks his wife what's wrong and then comes the response every husband dreads. The words spoken hundreds of time but rips out the heart just as often. "HOW COULD YOU?" John immediately goes through the thought process of what has been done in the last week that he wasn't careful enough to cover up or clean up. What could he have done? Did he forget to pay a bill or did an old girlfriend from 20 years ago, who just divorced her husband and now is trying to reconnect with Johnny, call the house that day? What did John do? Then John starts to realize all the hints he'd been missing that his wife had been throwing so evidently at him for the past week. "Isn't that a beautiful blouse? she said the last time the two went shopping? Or how about the conversation she started during the episode of the show John had waited a week to watch and regardless of whether the commercial was on she was gonna find out if John remembered that little restaurant they found on their honeymoon? Of the calender with a date circled but nothing filled in? How could John forget? The anniversary. How many clues must a woman leave for her man to remember a date from twenty years ago that had no correlation with any of the other 364 days that year or any year but is supposed to be the most important day in the history of mankind? What was John's wife supposed to do? Tell him bluntly "John, our anniversary is in two days and if you take me out to dinner that night and buy that blouse that I pointed out and said "I want that blouse and it would make me happy if you purchased it for me"???? How could John not see the clues and follow the complex strategic game of chance his wife so carefully plotted out for him? No wonder John works so hard. If he cared about his wife at all that date would have been his focus for the past 365 days because it only happens once a year. What an uncaring and unloving man John is!!! So, as with John, our lives are filled with reminders everyday and every chance possible about how much we disappoint and let down our fellow man in this slow, self-centered world we live in. Didn't answer that text message within a minute? Well you must not care. Didn't stop at the light and blazenly drove through and cut off a more centered, caring driver because you're 5 minutes late to your son's graduation? You just really don't care do you? And the signs and clues are obvious to everyone, aren't they? So next time you want fries with that Big Mac you better have an extra dollar because that Fortune 500 company that you're buying those fries from will have their minimum wage worker ask you if you love your fellow man just as much as the driver in the car ahead of you. Try to care a little bit more if you're just trying to get a quick bite to eat because you spent your lunch hour getting a card for your secretary on Secretary's day. And then realize you're a cow because it's uncaring to belittle your secretary calling her a secretary when really she's an administrative assistant. My name is Rueuhy and I approve this blog.

Google + is not for me (Or "Why I don't believe in Iron Man")

There are a few of you that secretly put on your Iron Man costumes this weekend and went to the opening weekend of Iron Man 3 - the latest installment of the Marvel Comics franchise that has no connection whatsoever with Pixar. This is why Toy Story 4 - Woody's Revenge trailer did not even premiere. Because honestly, who needs to see a toy come to life when we can watch a full size adult in a costume become a sonic boom master. I did not see this latest installment of the Tony Stark trilogy for several reasons. I washed my hair Thursday night and once it gets wet it takes forever for it to dry. Friday night my car wouldn't start and I dropped my cell phone in the toilet so calling a cab and watching a movie were the least of my concerns. Saturday I was napping all day. I spent the previous night in a frantic search for an all-night AT&T store to replace my phone but there doesn't seem to be one in a thousand mile radius of my house. And I was attempting this on foot because my car wouldn't start. So Saturday I was pretty exhausted. Saturday night my phone finally dried out in the box of rice I had it sitting in but now there seems to be a lack of reception when I make a call. Also, someone stole my car which is a real inconvenience for me and now I have to walk on foot to the AT&T store to find out why I'm getting no reception on my phone. Sunday morning, after walking a 1/2 hour to get to the movie theater I discovered that they don't start movies until after 4pm on the last Sunday of odd numbered months. I still don't understand this policy buy who am I to question the genius of the entertainment field. After walking back to the spot where I last saw my car I discovered I was on the wrong street and my car was actually parked one block over. Suddenly I was really in no mood to watch Iron Man 3 or even go to AT&T. Also, I left my lights on and my battery was dead. This is why I really hate batteries and extension cords. If your battery goes dead and you put the charger on it seems likely you will always need an extension cord. Now extension cords, in and of themselves, are not evil by nature. But I do have a theory they were created by Satan or one of his evil dominion and have caused untold spiritual corruption since the first time someone attempted to untangle one. It's just a theory but I do feel a sense of dread and evil every time I use one. And I really don't appreciate the profanity I hear coming from myself when I'm trying to untangle them. But I digress... Sunday afternoon was spent at home watching the original Iron Man and really starting to wish I had skipped washing my hair Thursday. So I dozed off and I awoke to the sound of a small explosion down the street. This did not play well with my subconscious so soon after watching Iron man. I looked out my front door and the neighborhood was surrounding my car. I hate positive and negative terminals on batteries and the effects of misconnecting the cables from a charger. Now I really wish it had been stolen. So, the movie was out for me Sunday as well. What really startled me was the comments I started seeing from strangers on my Google + app on my phone. Perfectly unknown strangers were commenting on my misfortune about how stupid I was with comments such as "Two negatives don't add up to one positive unless your positively sure about hooking up your charger cables wrong on your car battery" and things like "Hey, two battery cables go in a bar but are hooked up wrong and their dates get pregnant and explode" or this was my favorite "why did the car battery cross the road? To get away from a wrong connection so it won't blow up." I'm not saying they were unoriginal or unfunny but really? Really? That's what Google + is for? So I'm done with extension cords and Google +. Who needs the aggravation when you're walking to work. My name is Rueuhy and I approve this blog.

No one likes a loser but you're the exception

In the early 40's, 20th century, a.d., (after the scary Baltic uprising in the lower east peninsula of Pugnet Sound), a new education system was found based on winners versus whiners. It was decided that only winners would be allowed to eat and drive nice cars and collect antiques and such. This program proved effective with minor violence and the occasionally academic scholarship being awarded for "Trying the hardest". "Trying the hardest" title, in many circles, is still recognized today in the "almost" winner category. So the education community recognized that America could only stay strong and robust if the winners who had been vetted through trial and error were in charge of society. Afterall, unless some kind of award is in order for just showing up everyday and trying your best, true winners have proven themselves up to the many tasks facing those in charge. The system was fool-proof with the exception of those who were truly gifted in cheating and the invention of the Dungeons and Dragons board game. Also, LSD and soda pop are now known contributors to the failure of the old system and beer probably didn't help much either. So, the winner versus whiners system was in effect until the early 70's, 20th century, a.d., (after the scary Bolshevic revolution in the upper east side started by George and Weezy Jefferson - a successful dry cleaner known for his bad back and wise-cracking antics). It was there, in a dilapidated one room school house that Thomas Stevens Golshing Sr., father of Thomas Stevens Golshing Jr. who was the roommate of Gary Busey (who missed the auditions for The Buddy Holly Story 4 and is still kicking himself for that lost opportunity), discovered the theory of relative daycare. This new theory lead to the instrumental Dept. of Education ruling in the late 80's, 20th century, a.d., (following the drug induced fog of the 70's which came about from the whole dungeons and dragons war famously played in the garage of Steve Jobs which lead to the invention of the Iscream - a portable device carried by ladies in their walks home from school that would alert them to Dungeon and Dragon players). The Theory of Relative Daycare stated the following hypnosis - the fundamental dynamics of relative daycare is based upon grandparents who are tired of raising their children's offspring and ensures affordable daycare during school hours based upon the future non-wage earning ability of the toddler versus the valued earnings of an actual hardworking student still suffering from the wayward consensus of past success from working hard to achieve goals. Thus, a base scale was born which showed the elevated success story of a daycare student in the child's teen years and offered a falling scale of enthusiasm based upon the tears and sweat of hard working students. A new education system was born. In this new system a child's performance would not hinder his/her ability for receiving funds for food and shelter. The government, under this new program, would advance programs through taxes that would allow silicone valley based gaming companies to expand their success through marketing to the less-abled children. The correlation seen through the profits from these companies and the spending this would produce, enabled the government to calculate increased revenue for the next 40 years. The only variable the government did not see was the havoc this would bring upon the global economic structure and the damage to world markets where countries such as china and japan were still dependent upon the successful education systems in place in their own countries following the structure of "winners versus whiners" formula based upon the old U.S. education system. The federal government has discovered, through government funded studies, that the only way the current system can continue to work is through increased revenue paid to the government so that continued funding can be made available to the system. The studies found that increased funding has a feel-good effect and raises the moral of the workers within the education system thus improving the moral of the daycare teens. If the funding is not provided through pensions and administrative cost-of-living increases, they're gonna feel bad. And if the system is working why would we want to challenge that? My name is Rueuhy and i approve this blog.