Binramblin

Yes I thought it was time for a ramble - in truth, there is no offcial time for a ramble, so anyone who fancies a ramble can just begin to ramble, by declaring it time for a ramble, as I have above. The question is where does a ramble begin? Probably at the bginning - in my experience, the beginning is a concept given to us by the universe as a place to begin from. This is a fortunate invention, as without it, we would have nowhere to begin, other than at the end, and then we'd have to work backwards, which would be a right pain in the butt. Or technically, one can begin in the middle, but then the rambler finds themselves interupted by people asking what happened previously. So, at this point I was going to say "Without further ado, let's begin" but then I thought "further ado? what does that mean?" I mean, have I been ado-ing up to now, and overdone the amount of ado-ness, and thus should contunue without further ado? Is there a limit on ado? How much ado is too much ado? Should I ado for a bit more? With further ado?
So, the wheel of time turns, and the current age fades to legend, which in turn fades to myth, which is long forgotten my the time the age that birthed those myths comes round again. So how does anyone know there's a wheel then? Perhaps time itself is an infinitely continuous linear measurement. Consider the goldfish. It has a memory span of seventeen seconds. This is why goldfish never grow bored of swimming around and around in a bowl. They pass the little plastic novelty bridge you put in there for them and think "Oh, thats a cool bridge" and then by the time they swim round again they have forgotten it, and say "Hey look at that bridge!" - assuming they take at least seventeen seconds to navigate the circumference. The point being, that the wheel of time's raduis must be variable depending on your point of view. For us it's big, because even if our memory is limited, we record history and so never quite forget. For a goldfish it's seventeen seconds wide. Going back to our memory, it's weird that we can recall that moment when we fell in a pond when we were four years old, but can't remember what we had for dinner last tuesday. Unless you had say barbecued octopus on a bed of duck nipples, which would be pretty memorable. Or unless of course, you have the same meals on the same day each week. Soon, we shall consider the nature of deja-vu, but for now consider nostalgia - which isn't what it used to be, in my opinion. We all love to reminiss (sp?) about good old days, golden memories of a time when we were happy. But at the time, did you think you were happy? Did you think, "wow, I'll remember this moment in years to come, definitely." No, you didn't. So you should perhaps think it now. Because eleven years and three and a quarter months from now, you will remember reading this message, and long for this time to return. Eleven years and three and a qurter months sounds quite precise, because it is. Scientitsts have studied nostalgia and found it to be the optimum time period for the best nostalgia experience. Althought, for me, it is much shorter. Already, I am remembering writing the first paragraph of this message, remembering what a happy time that paragraph was, how I enjoyed pondering the word "ado". Oh happy times.
Now lets consider deja-vu.... wait, haven't I said this before? I'm sure I have. Why can we walk into a mall, hear a partuclar piece of music, and see a particular sight, only to suddenly experience a massive conviction that the whole experience is one you have been through already. Well, probably you have. It goes back to what we just considered above, about remembering stuff from when you were a tiny baby, but not recent events. Memories are like a wine - they become vintage with age. Think of your mind like a wine cellar, full of bottles labled things like "Thanksgiving at Grandma's, 1978" and "buried my brother alive, 1974" and "fell off the house landing on fido, 1981" - that's how your mind works. It won't let you open a new bottle because the sedament hasn't settled. So anyway, it stands to reason that something that happened a really really long time ago will be a powerful bottle of vintage memory indeed. But, that bottle may well be laying under so much dust and cobwebs that you think it's lost. However, if time is a wheel, then at that point on the wheel last time around, you did exactly the same thing. Reaching that point next turn around has the effect of shaking loose that memory bottle, and out pops the cork, and deja-vu hits you right between the eyes. Of course, it stands to reason that if this is indeed the case, then we should be in a constant state of deja-vu-ness. Sort of like going "Hey, I knew that was going to happen!", and then frowning and saying "Hey, I knew I was going to say that!" then a moment later "And that! And this! Oh god, help me...." It would be terrible, so I guess that deja-vu is really a fault in the wheel - technically, all old bottles in our mental wine cellar get chucked out by some subconcious cellar caretaker. A mental device if you will, to stop ourselves going mad, making sure we think everything that happens to us is a new experience. Stands to reason that the caretaker will have the occasional sick day, and millions of years later, (or seventeen seconds, in the case of a goldfish) we reap the benefit of the bottle that caretaker missed. Are you following all this? Please say you are, because I'm not reading this, only writing it, so I'll be asking you what I said later.
I am pausing at this point to carve my name on a bullet. If there's really truth in that saying, then best you own it yourself, as you are unlikely to want to shoot yourself, and are thus safe. Kurt Kobain may disagree of course. Hmmm, I like these little snippets of wisdom. One of my favourites is "you'll always find something you lost in the last place you look". Well of course you will, who in their right mind would find something, and then keep on looking for it? Perhaps this might be worth an experiment. After all, who knows? You might find them again somewhere else. Mock all you like, but you cannot disprove this until you test it. What gets me is why it is the same set of objects that like to get lost so often. I think all objects contructed of matter in the universe must be infused with an special energy that helps them get lost. The more you got, the more likely you will be misplaced. Car keys are positively glowing with the stuff. And teaspoons, and very likely batteries. And Lord Lucan, too. I think if we could invent a discharger, we could unload this energy from objects and make them likely to stay put. This morning I woke up with a question at the forefront of me mind. Why can we see camouflage? In fact, it's rather distinctive. I always find my eyes drawn to people in combat trousers bending over the freezer at the grocery store. So easy to spot. Presumably, camouflage was invented by either a MR/Mrs Camouflage. Since it is a stupid invention, let us assume it was a male. So, one day, Mr Camouflage goes to the army and says "Hey guys, I got a great new invention!" and they say "What's that?" and he says "I invented a cloth that when you were it makes you invisible to your enemies!" and they say "Great! Where is it?" and he points to his combat trousers and jacket and says "I'm wearing it!" and they say "What that green and brown splodgy crap? But we can still see you! In fact, we can see you real good like, better than we can see other things, as it happens."and he says "Yeah, well it only works in the jungle!" and they say "you think we have trouble hiding in a jungle? Get out! Come back when you have something that can let us hide in a girls-only dormitory!" Well that's how the conversation should have gone. Obviously Mr Camouflage was actually succesful, and patented it, and gained great wealth from it. I heard he had a massive palacial mansion built out in the forest, and had it painted with Camouflage paint. Unfortunately, he can't find it.
And why is it no pets have the same amount of legs as us? Cats and dogs and gerbils and hampsters have four each, snakes and goldfish have none, spiders and stick insects and weird horrid stingy dangerous stuff that sick teenage goths keep,they usually have at least eight legs, and often more. And why would anyone want to keep bees? You like honey so much, go buy
some from a store, dammit. Don't put a net curtain over your head and stick it in a hive. That's just asking for trouble. I should imagine that bee-keeping is a lonely profession. It's not as if you can make friends with bees. Can't imagine sticking your head in the hive trying to make idle coversation while you steal their lifes work can you? - "Hey Todd, hows the wife? Harry! Hows the wing? Still sore? Oh dear. Is the Queen in today? No? She's at a sporting event? Those darn royalty, they get all the perks don't they!" Why don't people 'keep' other creatures instead of bees? Spiders perhaps. I bet you could keep spiders, and collect their webs. So far as I know, outside of china there isn't much reserch done into the usefulness of spider webs. I just bet they've got some amazing medical properties, things like that always do. Besides, even if they haven't, at least it's something cool to collect. Imagine when people ask you "what do you collect?" and you say "I collect cobwebs!" and they'll say "Well, try to move about more."
Oh and you know how some people think that it is so clever to ask "How does the man who drives the snowplough get to work?" as if it's the funniest thing, or a huge enigma or something. Why, when it is so obvious? The guy has a second snow plough! He uses that one to get to work. I just wanted to clear that one up. And also there's that one about "if a tree falls over
on a forest, and there's no-one there to hear it, does it make a sound?" Anyone who knows anything about a forest knows that there isn't a square foot of forest where something isn't watching you, listening to you, or working out if you'd taste nice. So let that be and end to it. Plus in a really tightly packed forest, hows a tree gonna fall over? It would just rest against other trees. Have you noticed this disgusting trend for celebrities to give their kids disgustingly awful names, like "starburst" or "MoonUnit" or "Satchel" or "Fifi Trixibelle" or "TigerLilly" and worse. How could they? All they are doing is using it to keep themselves in the public eye. I think it should be outlawed, and my son SparkleGoblinDewdropStormrider agrees with me.

If you are still reading this then I conclude the following things: (1) You have way too much time on your hands. Or (2) You didn't actually read it, you just thought to scroll to the end to see if I said who I am. or maybe (3) You are so desperate for PoD you will read anything, ANYTHING, just to fill in the hours. (4) You are trying to work out who I am and wondered if maybe I mention you, as a clue to whether you know me. Well, I can safely say to Draelin, and Noire and ShadowKiller and Loial and Ainvar and Ariella and Blaine and UkDarkhound and Mat and Avi and TTO and KleineTeb and Egwene1 and Egwene2 and Kiriath and Rhoddy and Talsier and SilverMoon and Dazar and Rhett and Caly and Shardy and Carty and Taim and Moraine and Carramaena and Eval and Sundara and Sesami and LadySelene and Jarihn and Mordeth and Elayne and Bair and SonjaBlue and LordBrend and Demandred and ElanMorin and BaridBel and and Kerek and Ulrike and Agelmar/Forsaken and Daylorn and Rheagar and Jandor, in absolutely no order ......... yes, we might have met before....... ;P

Binramblin.

Binramblin was better known as Darkhound, or occasionally as the Mad Dog, and best known for his story "Lan's Stag Party." This and some of his other posts can be found in my Other People's Humour section.

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