Morning Ululations

Once again I awake to the schreech of birds.
Yesterday morning when I went out to pick up the paper I saw two eagles being chased by an osprey to the tree in our backyard.
Or maybe they were racing for the tree in order to claim territory. At least they don't have guns.
The eagles spent the next half hour screaming at the air, either to announce thier "mission accomplished" or to pretend that they were never afraid of no osprey.
Today I just let them jabber away.
At least there are no crows playing dive bomber as of yet.
I am somewhat insulated from exterior cacophony here in the "studio" ("studio" Hah, that's rich) so the only cacophony I'm obligated to endure is that which my muse forces me to create. It's always sombody elses fault innit?

At least the cat hadn't dragged one into my room.

Actually, the real reason I am up at this ungodly hour on a Sunday (Sunday, ungodly?)
is that we have a guest staying and I didn't stay up till 1:30 watching Saturday Night Live and Almost Live reruns.
Usually I'm asleep till at least 10:00.

I don't know about that Saturday Night Live show, it's cute, but I have a hard time keeping from laughing.
Kidding aside, I am somewhat divorced from Mainstream America and I watch in order to keep an eye on, so to speak.

And, besides, it makes much more sense than the "news" which never seems to me to be very new. I've read too much history. I've compared too much real weather with too much predicted weather. And, get this, one team wins and the other team loses.
Almost Live is a sentimental favorite partially bacause it is (was) local and more because it featured Nancy Guppy.
I am a fan.
She brought some intelligence to the usual insulting comeback sort of thing that one would have to endure if one actually watched more than the promotion ads for the soi disant "humor" shows that litter the screen of AM television these dark days of human civilation.

I would say "I'm in love with her" but there are undoubtedly more lunatic lawyers in the bushes ready to make something ugly out of it.
Hey, looneys, make something out of this! (too bad you can't see the gesture that goes along with that invitation)

Anyway I've nearly completed my experiments in sub-atomic physics and you may look forward to my report soon. (you could hardly look backwards to something that hasn't happened yet, could you?) (Or can you? Stay tuned).

A confession, awhile ago I reported that I had decided to take a bicycle ride.
That ride never happened. I am sorry that I misled you. I hope I didn't spoil any plans you may have made. I did pump up the tires and got all ready, but "events conspired" as they say. Actually, I've never heard anybody say that, but I say that because it is a nice mixed metaphor.
You may want to skip the next few sentances because I am going to explain my what I mean by calling a mixed metaphor "nice" and you, loyal fans, already "get it".
This is for the "Parade magazine" level intellects who accidentally access this site due to some misspelling error in thier blog search endeavors.
A "nice" mixed metaphor is one that works on a metaphysical plane.
Of course "events" canot "conspire". A conspiracy is three people complaining about the government.
It's just that when things totally out of your control co-incide to prevent some silly thing you had planned, it feels like a conspiracy.
To say "It seems like events have conspired" is using a mere simile, which is an acedemic observation and doesn't have the blood and sinew of the metaphor.
To use the simile is to divorce ones self from the emotional reality.
Conspiring events excite paranoia.
Delicious paranoia.
Another "Mixed metaphor" that the english teachers and other "guardians of the tongue" like to whinge about is Hamlet's "Take up arms against a sea of troubles".
Any one who dosn't feel that thrust has never faced even a pond of trouble.
While I have never faced a sea the dimension of Hamlet's, I have on occasion known what it is like to whack away at never ending waves of liquid insolubilities with
a short sword.

Or a sloppy crescent wrench that won't hold it's setting.

Or a blogsite against the stone facade of a hick town Symphony Orchestra.

Well....I notice that time once again has raised it's cute little head and the hour is no longer ungodly.

Although, according to certain "Christians", I am.