The two readers who follow my blog will let anyone else know that I have a weird fascination with numbers. So it should come as no surprise when I relate the following amusing statistic which I almost missed, relayed to me by WordPresses’ autobots.
No, not that kind of Autobot! THIS KIND:
OK so I hear all you people who aren’t into numbers asking, why am I so interested in the number 1430? Well, in 1430, Joan of Arc was captured and later killed. King James II of Scotland was born, only to be kilt a short 30 years later as a reminder that the struggle for power is better handled as a game of either diplomacy or chess, than either directly or as a game of chance. There he stood by a cannon being shot at the enemy, when it blew up. Unlike portraits that “cost an arm and a leg,” here we have a cannon that merely cost a leg, but it was enough. With all the power playing, murder and intrigue going on, one has to wonder if it was an “accident,” or if someone got a payoff. His distant heir James VI of Scotland would become James I of England, rule both countries, and order the English vernacular translation of the Bible, which finished in 1611, and no one can read it unleff they hath thee skylle of a cunning linguist. And the patience. Of course, the lineage assumes none of the queen(s) weren’t privily busy with other gentlemanly visitors. There, a little something for you fans of stories of the British Monarchy. Write a fan fiction about that one.
Just keep in mind if you write about babies being killed, your story will be deemed Herod-ical. And if you write about anyone between 1485 and 1603, your research for historical setting and plot will sound much more realistic if you can get a good Tudor. And you should be able to find one, apparently there’s a whole house of them. Somewhere.
Devilish of me, isn’t it?
I even stole that joke after the 1611 reference, from Robin Williams. Unless he stole it from someone else, and honestly he probably did. And I have to really be on a weird trip to make jokes about Herod. He was really God-awful. I’m tripping today because I’m out of meds and for some reason since the pharmacy switched I have to go visit my doctors to get a new script and I’m out, and it’s got me all tired. This is your brain. And this is my brain in free-fall. I should have stayed in bed.
But 6666 views couldn’t be passed up now, could it?
I might write
more poetry tonight,
but it would probably be better
to just wait until later after
a nap, or sleep through until I wake.
It’s 4 PM, feels like 4 AM. I could just be jetlagged, or it could be, dear Doctor Come-Pay-Me-to-Write-A-Prescription Because-money-from-you-is-better-than-phoning-it-in, that I really do need the prescription we agreed I needed. The three month, or in this case one month, check-in, is bogus and profiteering, for both you and the pharmacy. We agreed I need it to help me, so assuming I’m not checking into a pharmacy for extras, or trying to rob one, that I’ on schedule. Just because one pharmacy closed and another took over my script should not require an extra appointment, not that I particularly like the 3 month meeting schedule.
Both regular readers know I don’t really like going to the doctor. If I’m sick, maybe, or just let me go. If I’m “healthy,” or not sick enough, just let me not go. Especially, just don’t make me go extra, especially not twice in a day like last time.
The randomness does occasionally get to me and I wish I could focus.
The earworm of the day is either Led Zeppelin’s “Fool in the Rain” or “Kashmir,” or George Michael’s “Teacher.” (“…just let me go.”) Why? Why does it have to involve George Michael? I mean, the third one could be Michael Jackson, but then it would probably be “Ben.” UGH!
I can’t even earworm right today. Well the plus side is I’m done at work so I can go home and rest. I’ll rest after I drive the earworms to an undisclosed location and lock the one I don’t want up. It “didn’t feel the danger, now, it feels the heat.” No, don’t follow me. And if you send the police, that earworm is dead.
“Just let me go!”
“…the thoughts of a fool’s gotta count
I’m just a fool waiting on the wrong block.”
I don’t think I could keep track of 6,666 things with this unmedicated ADD and encroaching confusion, so thank you very much, WordPress Bots, for tracking that for me.
“Tired of the light that I just don’t seem to find.” The light would be some kind of programmable, practical and useful mania that can be harnessed for something practical. But instead there’s this exhaustion, and I slept pretty well last night. I’m wrapping up the randomness in a plastic box. Wait, that’s probably the Doors. Maybe they’re the next earworm, which is all right.
There. Now maybe I can go home and rest. After rest, maybe I can “transform, and roll out.” Except I just remembered I’m supposed to go do something after work. Hooray.