Our lives are measured in increments.

What event could describe this, what is it, and who is ultimately responsible?

12/25/06:
10:15 am
11:27 am
12:39 pm
01:23 pm
02:22 pm
03:23 pm
03:59 pm
05:25 pm
05:51 pm
06:49 pm
08:04 pm
08:40 pm
10:16 pm

12/26/06:
12:35 am
12:56 am
02:34 am
03:07 am
11:05 am
11:55 am
01:09 pm
02:00 pm
02:40 pm
03:06 pm
03:20 pm
03:45 pm
06:04 pm
07:41 pm
09:01 pm
10:13 pm
11:06 pm
12:51 pm

12/27/06:
03:57 am
04:57 am
06:30 am
07:34 am
09:10 am
11:08 am
12:51 pm
01:57 pm
02:25 pm
04:03 pm
04:39 pm
06:17 pm
07:01 pm
07:26 pm
etc.

12/28/06:
01:30 am
02:09 am
06:21 am
11:08 am
01:03 pm
01:38 pm
01:55 pm
03:25 pm
05:25 pm
06:20 pm
07:36 pm
08:31 pm
09:41 pm
11:42 pm
etc.

And then I ask, is there a rise in cortisol, and or any of these: corticosteroid, epinephrine, adrenaline levels when you scroll fast?

The Tyranny of the Christmas Tree. How is that, you might ask?

The whole subject is tyranny and power gone mad. If you have children and are at least nominally Christian, can you get away with not getting one? It is the Center of Attention, the very Focal Point of the season.

When Christmas is over, there is an important lesson for the kiddies. The Hallowed Tree, just days before glistening with tinsel, lights, and sparkling gem-like ornaments, is now stripped of its finery and thrown out on the cold curb like some pagan drunk whose nasty behavior will no longer be tolerated, a deflowered virgin in a society which sells it to the highest bidder.

Given this, why are you surprised that the kiddies are in tearing their expensive plastic toys to pieces, giving their dollies buzz cuts, and generally creating Christmas mayhem. You may be blaming that on all the sugar treats you are force feeding them at meals and in-between meals, but don't kid yourself. Throwing out the Tree serves as a valuable lesson to them of the transitory nature of life and how little value anything really has.

The Tree had its fifteen minutes of fame, its Queen For A Day day. It's a tosser.

You may think children don't really absorb the end of Christmas in that way, that the idea of planned obsolescence can't really be expressed in that way. What about Divorced Dogs and the Trophy Wife?

Well, maybe not. But think about what buying a small living tree that can be replanted somewhere might say.

Buying an artificial tree also says something. It may not be as pleasant as a real tree, but the kids will see that you keep and cherish things and bring them out to celebrate them again and again.

On the other hand, there is the Tyranny of those who don't like Christmas for religious or any other reasons. This would be OK, but some of those opposers are very aggressive in letting you know their wrath will be wreaked about this subject and seem to ooze threats if so much as a carol is lilting and lofting in the air.

Christmas, that most cuddly and forgiving of holidays, is loved because no one dies and everyone, in theory, gets presents and food.

Speed dating. I haven't tried it yet, but from what I understand you get about ten minutes to decide whether you see any redeeming value in another human being and whether you ever want to see them again in this lifetime.

Yes, I'd like to see you again. That seems fair.

Are you accepting that? Are you just accepting that ten minutes is quality time and that you could decide if the prospective date had anything to offer you?

Well, what did you have in mind to find out? Some things are instantly apparent by looking. These are not the things I need to ask.

I want to know if you have clean socks and underwear on, and are they they gorgeous or plain? I don't have x-ray vision, you know. Do you mow your own grass or pay to have someone do it for you? Are mobsters after you for non-payment of any debts? Do you own a trick pony? Are you solvent? Would you like to spend this winter with me in the Keys, and if so, how do you want to spend it? Have you got a dependable car? If you could have a really expensive anything, would you want it and should you have it? If you were invisible, would I like your personality?

Are these questions too quirky?

Forget questions with answers like "I like to walk on the beach at sunset and hold hands" or "I like to roll naked on a sealskin rug in front of a roaring fire while I eat a banana split sundae".

Are lines like these going to reel you in for more?

Bees have a dance they do in the hive to show the other bees where they can find a good honey stash. Some people dance with wolves. Snoopy had a happy dance.

I was looking through my files and came upon an article that I had printed from the Internet entitled The Devil's Dyke Morris Men. Morris Dancers are men only; that's the tradition. Devil's Dyke is a location in England.

The tradition of the Morris Men is ancient. You need only to do a search for Morris Men on the Internet to call up a great number of entries from many parts of the world. The Devil's Dyke Morris Men trace their history to the Dark Ages when a dyke, a massive earthwork, was built in the fens to keep out the marauding Mercians.

Maurauding Mercians has kind of a ring to it, doesn't it? So, logic follows that a bunch of men would wear special clothes in stylized dances to keep out the invaders, right? There must be more to it than that.

These Morris Dancers do a variety of dances that include sticks, handkerchiefs, face paint, long sword, rapper, and clogs. That's why they should be in my research files.

Even though the Morris Dancers are currently doing their dance, I think what they are doing is much older than that.

The Morris dancers probably had a good reason for dancing on the Devil's Dyke, I suppose. Were devils thought of as being of the male gender? The Devil, himself, was always pictured as male.

If you believe all the dire predictions about the weather on our planet, soon polar bears will have no place to go. The Netherlands and Daytona Beach will be underwater. Sink holes could swallow up Eskimos families in their sleep.

I read National Geographic and other publications and watch true to life video commentaries. The future looks hot.

Two things that these places have in common, like many resort locations, is water. Everyone loves water, water in which to play, swim, bathe, and drink. Clean water is becoming a rare commodity. The earth needs clean water now, and scientists are working on different projects to try to find economical and safe ways to purify contaminated water. One really appealing way is through the use of sunlight. Using one of nature's constants to refine another of nature's constants seems like an ideal solution

Do I careabout these problems? Yes, I do. The Netherlands and Daytona Beach are two of my favorite vacation spots. I feel uncomfortable at the idea of Atlanta being the next beach resort. I'm not sure what land mass could replace the Netherlands, but maybe it's somewhere in Germany. The Dutch are not going to take this sitting down.

You might ask how much I care. To what lengths would I go to help out the eco-cycle??

I care enough to hardly ever never use the dryer to dry my clothes. Yes, I do use a washing machine because bending over a tub is good exercise and all, but I really hate the punishment of
Magdalene Sisters. That was a depressing movie.

It is apparently the belief of many that women are inherently evil, that many women are thinking lustful thoughts and contemplating sexual action and need to be punished immediately in this lifetime for sin and evil they might commit if they are allowed to use a washing machine. That seems to be the line of reasoning, so, washboards are efficacious in preventing their pitiful souls from burning in Purgatory for any length of time. Men are never in this danger and can use washing machines as much as they want.

I found this out this from reading and watching documentaries and videos. However, the message may be skewed between intention and reality.

Myths, legends, stories, and lies, and don't forget pithy sayings, homilies, and conundrums.

Why should you believe anything you mother tells you or anyone else for that matter?

Did she not tell you that there was a Santa Claus, an Easter Bunny, and a God who cares? Policemen are good and Boy Scouts will escort you across the street? Wonder Bread builds strong bodies twelve ways, although those ways are mysterious and unspecified and possibly confusing during puberty.

After thinking about it, I realized all these things are true, sort of, with a twist. For instance, I've seen Santa. Every year, right around this time, there are thousands of them. People sit on their collective laps while he makes profuse promises. The Easter Bunny is real. You and I have eaten him. He usually manifests himself in a chocolate way, white or milk, solid or shell. Delicious any way. God, similarly.

Didn't you believe at some point in your life that those in authority were decent and capable of making decisions you could not make?

It turns out that I can make many of those same important decisions that are currently being made by "those in charge" in more creative ways.

For instance, if you place a number of fortune cookie messages, each one in a separate balloon and inflate them with helium gas, letting them free float to the ceiling and then, by means of darts, ask important questions of the Divine Presence, popping one balloon for each important question, and reading the message, you can determine the course you should take. It was long ago done with animal entrails too, although it's no longer recommended. It was called divination. This was formerly done in days before balloons.

What shall we name our child? Should we get married? Did you get your deer yet?

Did you get your deer yet? This reminds me of the people in the elevator who always say "Oh, can't complain" to any subject that is brought up. Can't complain? Do they lack initiative and imagination?

When was the last time you heard "Your money's no good here"? My money seems to be good everywhere I go, and that covers a lot of territory. It's similar to the expression "I can't get arrested in this town." No? Personally, I don't want to find out.