New first paragraph to replace the previous first parapgraph of my entry-- a paragraph which was, subsequently, removed from my entry-- but, not by me, and, with neither my knowledge nor my permission. My new first paragraph is hardly the same as the original; nevertheless, it is, more or less, substantially similar:
I am an unlicensed pilot of a magnificent, but unrecognized, and unregistered, thermal airship-- more commonly known as a hot air balloon. I do not climb aboard my airship and take to the skies every day, but I do take to the skies as often as I reasonably can-- and, from the elevated vantage point that my airship affords, I am able to enjoy some of the most wonderful adventures! I might even so much as say that I am to the skies what Captain Nemo is to the waters(!). From that vantage point, I can see all manner of man and beast, some of the most amazing landscapes, and the very tops of even the tallest of trees! And, it is all so ever changing, all of the time. From that vantage point, life, itself, is a better drama, and at times a better comedy, than even the very best, or most popular, of plays to ever open on a Broadway stage! It becomes apparent that life, itself, is the broad-way!! I do have to be careful sometimes, because with such breathtaking views in all directions it can be easy to get carried away(!). Especially as I look out, and watch it all unfold from the pleasing comfort of my capsule. In my capsule, I've got a state of the art audio system, along with GPS, and i've got WIFI, and a laptop computer too: I've even got a digital clock that is always turned on, but is never correct. That clock is a twenty-four hour clock, that always reads 32:10-- for, some reason, I've never been able to reset it; however, I gladly keep it, because it has become as familiar to me as an old friend. I have large bags of unpopped popcorn that I use as ballast for the capsule, but, if I need to release the ballast, I don't just drop a bag of unpopped popcorn off; rather, I have a special oven into which I place the bag, and, then, I release the contents from the oven after the popcorn has popped: I am by the way careful not to drop any of it on a roadway; many birds seem to appreciate my contribution, and, children seem to think that it is neat.
On some dry, temperate nights, those when I don't quite make it off the ground (by the way, to be clear, I have no use whatsoever for any substance, whether man-made, pulled off of a tree, or pulled out of the earth, that might in any way obscure my vantage or judgment: I am not striving to expand my consciousness, but, rather, only to make a good natural effort to try to broaden the one with which I was born-- to me, Norwegian wood is nothing other than timber that I might use in constructing a house (so my message to any users or abusers out there is please don't look to me for solidarity, as I am not one with the cause)). Anyway, with all of that, now, out of the way, turning back, straightaway, to what I was originally saying: even at my most earthbound, even on the most earthbound of earthbound nights, I am, yet, still particularly privileged to be able to sit alfresco in a cozy chair at an elegantly set table, sometimes in front of a garden or grove, while slowly imbibing Hyson Lucky Dragon or Gyokuro teas-- welcome varieties of green tea-- under the soft, qool, ambient light of a moon that is made of blue cheese, and at those times, I am thankful, very thankful indeed, that all of that blue cheese is way up there on that moon in the high heavens, because, down around here on the bountiful surface of the good earth, while a very little bit of blue cheese can, sometimes, be a pretty good thing, a whole, whole lot of blue cheese, on the contrary, tends to quickly lend rather a foul pungency to the air, both far and wide, and far and near, i.e. to raise quite an awful stink!
Question Mark and the Mysterions: Question Mark and the Mysterions were a 60's, British, mod rock group, similar, but not equal, to Mott the Hoople; their biggest hit was a song called "96 Tears." There is some old footage of the band floating around, mostly on PBS stations (and, probably on Youtube as well)-- the lead singer, who ably enacted the persona of Question Mark, was, what one might call, a renowned weirdo-- he was one of the original drag queens, or, one might say, drama queens: he looked sort of like a crossdressed version of Mick Jagger, after having been additionally crossed with Keith Richards or Steven Tyler. I, on the other hand, am absolutely nothing like Question Mark, but, I do have one thing in common with him, if only but one-- my diffidence (if well masked by an apparent effulgence) in regard to answering this question. During the 2012 US Presidential election, we were introduced to a new term, describing a newly recognized medical condition, Romnesia; I would like to introduce, yet, another such condition-- netnesia, which describes those of us who tend to lose our way on the internet, and, therefore, can not remember who we are. Tomorrow, I may very well remember who I am; today, however, I am a porpoise without purpose, a dolphin plagued by deafness, a shrunken head in a quiet village on some remote Pacific island, just one item in the collection of some long-forgotten tribe. Thus, a conundrum even Holmes, Poirot or Columbo couldn't solve, and, anyway, does it matter?
As regards the 2016 US Presidential election by the way I fear that we may be in for more of the same-- i.e, a deja vu, only with different actors playing essentially the same characters.
Hear ye, hear ye, I say ye to those, who might care to hear, might I, rather, interest you, if I could, in a rose garden, and a primrose pathway-- or, was that an overgrown eyesore, and a brimstone pathway? Can't quite seem to remember...
Anyway, I'm neither a fruit, nor a vegetable-- but, I'm smarter than the average pear.
And I do know how to make a mean tossed salad too: first, I make my way to a local grocery store, and I walk to the aisle where they sell condiments, sauces, and salad dressing, and from there I pick out a brand and flavour of commercial salad dressing that seems like it might be savory enough, and I purchase it; then I go to the produce section, specifically, to the part where they keep vegetables in plastic bags, and from there I pick out a tidy, fresh bag of lettuce and garden vegetables, and I purchase that as well; finally, I take all of that home, and, once home, of course, I wash the lettuce and garden vegetables off, just to be certain, and, then I mix everything up together, and voila!
And, besides that, I also know how to make a nicer tossed salad: the mean tossed salad, for example, might be dressed in a vinegar based dressing; whereas, the nice tossed salad might be something richer, sweeter, and creamier, with a hint of fruit, and maybe some pine nuts for texture, plus the edible petals of English daisy, Hawaiian hibiscus, lavender, marigold, and nasturtium, along with, maybe, a sheet, or, just possibly, even two, of edible gold leaf, for colour, but no olives, cucumbers, spicy hot peppers, or blue cheese.
Answer a few of the match questions, and next thing you know in their Personality summary okcupid labels you "less spiritual." Well, I must zealously protest. As a matter of fact, I'm a pantheist, of sorts. Just because I don't believe in stuff like magic mirrors, magic flying carpets, pixie dust, witches, warlocks, elves, faeries, astral projection, alternate realities, alternate planes of existence, reincarnation, vision quests, extrasensory perception, or telekinesis, that does not de facto mean that I do not imagine that that sort of stuff could all be very true-- and real. And, not only that, but, did I mention, that I do believe in the Easter Bunny. Not to mention, moreover, the Birdman of Easter Island. And, by the way, perhaps I might also mention that I even go so far as to make routine supplication to the sun, the moon, and to each and all of the cars (even the Yugo and the Pontiac Aztek)(!).
Second editorial note:
I don't know what the deal is with those match questions, and the personality summaries that OkCupid derives from them; now, they're saying that I am only slightly more liberal than average. Only slightly more liberal than average(!): I somewhat emphatically take issue with at least a few, and perhaps even more, of the characterizations that are listed on the personality summary that OkCupid has attached to my profile-- including the one that I mentioned in the editorial note in the paragraph above; however, for the moment, anyway, I'll focus just on their characterization of me as only slightly more liberal than average. For, if the truth be known, I'm so bloody Green that I make Kermit the Frog look like a ruddy red elephant!! From my perspective, with respect to a good number of issues, US Senator Bernie Sanders is right! Well, maybe I am overstating the point, and exaggerating, just a little bit, but...
Update-- I have answered a few more match questions in the hours that have passed since I wrote the note above, and in that time OkCupid has bumped my liberalness rating up ever so slightly. Hooray for progress(!).
Third editorial note:
If anyone cares about Myers-Briggs-- though I can not necessarily say that I do-- I might mention that some measures identify me as an INTJ and some identify me as an INFJ, while others identify me as INFP. That is because my scores tend to hover around the fiftieth percentile on the last two factors. I am really somewhat of a cross between INTJ, INFJ, and INFP, viz. INTJ-INFJ-INFP. Of the three, however, I believe that I tend to be a little bit more precisely defined as an INTJ. But, then, sometimes, I also believe in, well, the Fairy Godmother, so what do I know(?). (I'm not quite as certain, on the other hand, whether I believe in the Virgin Mary, or not, but, even if there are some times when I do feel fairly certain that I do not, I do, nonetheless, try to be respectful of other people's (expressions of faith in their) points of view.). On the other hand, I do not drink Bloody Mary's-- as the idea of drinking tomato juice in alcohol is just repugnant to me!