How Did Moses Make His Tea?

Energizer Bunny

Energizer Bunny (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

punography:

·I tried to catch some fog, but I mist.

·When chemists die, they barium.

·Jokes about German sausage are the wurst.

·I know a guy who’s addicted to brake fluid, but he says he can stop any time.

·How does Moses make his tea? Hebrews it.

·I stayed up all night to see where the sun went. Then it dawned on me.

·This girl said she recognized me from the vegetarian club, but I’d never met herbivore.

·I’m reading a book about anti-gravity. I can’t put it down.

·I did a theatrical performance about puns. It was a play on words .

·At the hospital they told me I had type A blood, but it was a type-O.

·A dyslexic man walks into a bra .

·PMS jokes aren’t funny, period.

·Why were the Indians here first? They had reservations.

·Class trip to the Coca-Cola factory– I hope there’s no pop quiz.

·The Energizer bunny arrested and charged with battery.

·The old man didn’t like his beard at first. Then it grew on him.

·Did you hear about the cross eyed teacher who lost her job because she couldn’t control her pupils?

·When you get a bladder infection, urine trouble.

·What does a clock do when it’s hungry? It goes back four seconds.

·I wondered why the baseball was getting bigger. Then it hit me!

·Broken pencils are pointless.

·What do you call a dinosaur with an extensive vocabulary? A thesaurus.

·England has no kidney bank, but it does have a Liverpool.

·I used to be a banker, but then I lost interest.

·All the toilets in New York ‘s police stations have been stolen. Police have nothing to go on.

·I got a job at a bakery because I kneaded dough.

·Velcro – what a rip off!

·Cartoonist found dead in home. Details are sketchy.

·Venison for dinner? Oh deer!

·Earthquake in Washington obviously the government’s fault.

·I used to think I was indecisive, but now I’m not so sure.

Tell Me It Isn’t True

Closed-Circuit-2013-Thriller-Movie-Watch-Online-Full-Film

After a twenty week layoff, Peggy and I went to see a movie. She is suffering from hot weather cabin fever, and I am happy being outside. She won, I lost. This was opening day of a suspense film called “Closed Circuit.” She loves mysteries, but she came away from this one totally befuddled, and I came out explaining it to her.

I learned an important Senior Citizen rule today, don’t go to see a movie on opening day. It cost me double the usual norm. I picked up another clue when the description included words like heavy on dialogue. That means there is little to no acting required, but the actors do have to know how to speak. It also means reading the book is probably just as good or even better. This film is from England and the actors Eric Bana and Rebecca Hall were totally strange and new to us. I enjoyed that, in that I didn’t have to leave the film to puke after watching some über liberal Hollywood type spew his communist propaganda in the name of art.

The people we watched might have been the English counterparts to the likes of Matt Damon, or Kevin Spacey, but I didn’t know, so it was a pleasure.

The story remotely centers around England’s love affair with close circuit video cams watching every move of every citizen. I got the impression the Brits have raised “Big Brother is watching you” to a new level. The second peculiarity involved their judicial system which assigned two advocates to side with the accused, I believe it was one from the prosecutors side and one from the defense side, there lies the story. The court assigned a couple who were friends (lovers) before to serve as advocates. The former lovers, now advocates, were not allowed to talk to each other nor meet with each other during, or after hours during the investigation and the trial. The need to remain silent and away from each other allowed some unusual body language and discomfort to occur between the two.

The case deals with an act of terrorism that involved National Security so everything the advocates did had to be behind closed and locked doors. They had to lock any notes they made on paper, or a computer in a safe before leaving the office.

The suspense occurs when the advocates independently realize a government cover-up involving their notorious M I 5. The mystery ramps up as the two begin to meet and plot ways to expose the government without becoming murder victims themselves. I give the Brits some credit, I did not see a gun on any of the characters throughout the story. I did see them use the old-fashioned mafia weapon of a cable strung around a neck from behind. It is quite effective, and less messy than a bloody gunshot wound. I wonder if they are marching to ban cable in England.

This story kept me riveted to my seat, because I did not want to miss a word of dialog. Not even my lousy hearing aids nor my bursting bladder got me to move. The actors did a fine job of convincing me of their humanity, and the bad guys did an effective job convincing me of their evil intentions.

The feeling I came away with after this film was that British writers are just as uneasy about their government and agencies as I am about mine. I felt the story could have been true and very real. It also made me wonder how many times the good old USA has covered up similar phony incidents.

Since I am a conspiracy theorist I loved this story, however, I believe Liberals will hate it because it exposes the dangers of big government and Big Brother.

Flavia, Feely, and Daffy?

IMG

The system I use to select reading material at the library has steered me into murder mysteries. For the second time in a row, I selected a book based upon its cover art, and both times the stories were mysteries.

I don’t really like murder stories, but I read this one because it was good. The premise is a little far-fetched, but entertaining. The book I selected this week is “Speaking From Among the Bones” by Alan Bradley. What I found a little suspect is the character who solves the mystery. In this story, Flavia de Luce is a precocious girl of eleven years who is the detective who out shines the local constabulary to solve the crime. I found the read somewhat Harry Potter like in that the central character is dauntless.

The story takes place in a small town in England during the nineteen fifties. The characters surrounding Flavia like her sisters with names like Feely, a nickname for Ophelia, and Daffy, a nickname for Daphne all have unique English names, and add to the entertainment of the story.

The story centers around the discovery of a dead body during the exhumation of a local Saint Tancred who is buried under the church named after him. What ever, the stretch of the imagination is Saint Tancred being uncovered on the five hundred anniversary of his death. The reason, to collect relics and to determine the condition of the body. Rumor has it that true Saints do not decompose and emit a heavenly scent when exhumed. The surprise comes when the committee exhuming Saint Tancred discovers the recently disappeared church organist in the chamber immediately above that of Saint Tancred.

The story becomes more involved when Flavia uncovers that an ancient monk left notes in his diary describing a huge diamond known as the Heart of Lucifer set into the Shepard Crook that lay with him.

As I said above the idea that an eleven year old is so astute to solve this crime is somewhat unbelievable, I have a ten-year old grand-daughter who is smart as a whip but cannot compare to Flavia de Luce.

One of the factors which drew me to this book is the bicycle on the cover art. I am a bicyclist and must admit that cycling reigns supreme above my old car fetish. In the story, Flavia rides a bike she named Gladys. Gladys is a character, but thankfully not a principal.

Author Alan Bradley did an outstanding job of creating the character of Flavia and I never imagined her as anything except a brilliant (genius) girl. The setting for the story is perfect for the year and the characters involved. Bradley’s descriptive writing made me see the story in my mind as it unfolded. Flavia and Harry Potter are similar, although Flavia is not a witch or a sorcerer.

My assessment of this book, is that I spent my time wisely, and it left me wanting more.

 

Coming To A Street Near You

You can call me Joe, or you can call me a Right Wing Terrorist, or you can call me a racist, or you can call me an Islama-phobe, or you can call me a homophobe, but please do call me Patriot.

Watch these videos to see what happens when the muslim population in a country grows beyond a few peaceful people.

Islam is a religion so we must afford them First Amendment rights, or do we? Islam is also a political ideology. Which is it a religion, or a political system? If it is a religion only, then they must abide by the laws of whatever country they live in. If it is a political system, they are traitors to the country they occupy. Actually, Islam is a Theocracy, a system that allows religion to rule the country. Remember our Declaration of Independence? The Founders deliberately separated church from state. They did not want another King or a church ruled country. Which do you believe it is?

Grumpa Joe believes that Islam is in direct contradiction to the Constitution of the USA, therefore even the most pious MUSLIM forfeits any Constitutional rights. They believe that there is only one law, that is God’s law. They do not obey nor sanction any law of any country except those that embrace Sharia. Do you see the contradiction? Islamists have only one goal in life, to convert the world to Islam. They don’t belong in the USA, they are a threat.

Oh, but you say, we must afford them rights, because Islam is a peace-loving religion. Yet, somehow, every radical Islamist began life as a peaceful muslim. There is something wrong with their upbringing that triggers a peaceful soul to become a hating, killing machine. Could it be the teachings of the Koran?

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The link below takes you to a CBS news piece that covered the same prayer protest.

http://downloads.cbn.com/cbnnewsplayer/cbnplayer.swf?aid=17933

A Detail Spoiled It For Me

The movie Trance is for viewers who love mystery, and suspense. Filmed in England with British actors, this film is different from USA made films.  The story revolves around the theft of an original Rembrandt painting from an auction. The inside man who actually takes the painting suffers a head injury which leaves him with amnesia. His fellow thieves torture him to learn where he hid the painting, but he does not remember. Finally, they hire a hypnotist to delve into his brain to show the whereabouts. The director cleverly weaves the story in and out of reality. Just when the viewer thinks the protagonist is revealing the hiding place, the scene shifts back to reality inside the hypnotist’s office. The ending finally reveals a surprise no one could have suspected.

A simple detail in this film spoiled it for me. Before I reveal what that was let me explain that Britain has very strict gun possession laws. Basically, no one in England can own a gun. The penalty for possession is ten years in prison. Recently, I read a story about a man in England who defended his home from an intruder with a shotgun he secretly kept. The robber got off, the man with the gun went to jail for ten years. Back to the spoiler, the Trance robbers used a shotgun to pull off the theft. Later in the story   a handgun shows up in the home of the mastermind thief. Eventually, several of the gang members die by bullets. I guess the British film industry isn’t very different from Hollywood when it comes to using guns to tell a story. I guess my message is this: even in a country where guns are not controlled but forbidden, people get killed with guns. Bad guys still have guns, and good people kill with their bare hands.

Trance-movie-poster

I spite of the spoiling detail, this movie had me riveted to the seat for the duration.

 

In a Pub Eating Fish and Chips While Sipping Single Malt Scotch

Nothing defines true love better than a Welsh Love Spoon. The hand carved spoons date back to the 1600’s. When a young man wants to declare his love to a young woman he presents her with a love spoon. It is a sign of his love and intention.

I came across the love spoon while touring Wales in the nineteen-ninety’s. Busia Barbara and I were tag-alongs on a musical trip sponsored by the Park Forest Singers. The Park Forest Singers is a group of seventy plus voices dedicated to using the voice as an instrument. Barb sang like an angel, and could easily have become a member of this prestigious group. She chose not to, but loved to hang with the members. We attended their concerts and parties. We were  Singer groupies. When the SIngers announced a trip to visit England, Scotland, Wales and the Isle of Wight, one of Barb’s girl friends invited us to join them.

At first, Barb was reluctant to ask me. She explained what the group was doing and when they were going, and other details. I floored her when I suggested we go too. I’m positive that was her intention all along; she just didn’t know how to approach old Grumpy.

The trip was twelve days long and the choir would sing four concerts, three of them in churches. Each church was in a different part of Great Britain. Our landing was at Heathrow airport and followed by a sleepy-eyed tour through the city to our hotel. We slept within four blocks of Buckingham Palace and two blocks from Harrods. “Harrods, what the heck is Harrods?” I learned that Harrods is a large, upscale department store, similar in scope and pricey inventory to Marshal Field’s, Nordstrom’s, and Macy’s. None of it made sense to me. I looked forward to drinking in a Pub, eating Fish and Chips, sampling single malt scotch whiskey, and ogling the local women.

Harrods Christmas lights 2008

Image via Wikipedia

The night of our arrival the Singers performed in a London Cathedral. No, it wasn’t Westminster Abbey, it was a lesser church that is  actually  more beautiful than Westminster. In spite of jet lag and fatigue, the Park Forest Singers  performed their repertoire flawlessly and with great enthusiasm.

Our group filled two buses as we traveled the English countryside to Oxford, and a number of other towns now faded from memory. I loved the countryside, and the walled-towns too. There is something about spending time in places of antiquity. It brings one a sense for how short a span we spend on planet earth. Sleeping in hotels that are hundreds of years old, walking around the town (literally) on a fortress wall, wobbling along cobblestones carved from quarries centuries ago, all added to the excitement.

The most vivid memory I have of this trip aside from the singing performances is a mental image of the English countryside. All of the places we traveled are stunningly  beautiful.

Wales was very different from Scotland and England. It has a unique language that is near impossible for the first time visitor to comprehend. The Welsh use too many consonants and too few vowels in their words (Llanfairpwll-gwyngyllgogerych-wyrndrobwll-llantysiliogogogoch). Thank God we were on a tour and had a guide who could interpret for us. The road signs were absolutely scary. Once off the bus we quickly learned that the Welsh speak English too. God save the Queen!

It was in a small town in Wales near the origin of the movie, Little Engine that Could where I spotted a wooden spoon with a unique design. I picked it up and read the descriptive tag. I fell in love with the Welsh Love Spoon.

The singers had a marvelous joint performance with Welsh Men’s Choir. The concert delayed for half an hour because the men were late getting in from their farms. Afterwards, our group joined for a late dinner. The real fun began after that. The evening turned into a singing version of Can You Top That? Each choir rotated singing favorite songs, each trying to outdo the other. It was a draw, both groups sang their hearts out.

A year later, I came across a pattern for a wood carving. It was a beautiful love spoon. The instant I saw it, I felt a need to carve the spoon for Barb as a re-declaration of  my love for her. The last time I had a carving knife in hand, I was fourteen, but it didn’t deter me. I bought several chisels, and a friend from work gave me the wood. I started and continued  chiseling away for several weeks until the finished spoon satisfied my eye. I lovingly presented it to Barb. She was happy. The spoon went on display with her prize depression glass bowls.

I still have the spoon. It now resides within a dark drawer out of harms way awaiting my departure from this earth. That is when the kids get to decide where it goes next.

A Snowy Day in the Movie House

West facade of Buckingham Palace, seen from th...

Image via Wikipedia

Yesterday, I tried something new. I bought a movie ticket online. The temptation was too great. I had to do it. How lazy can one get? Grandma Peggy and I reviewed the list of films showing in our favorite movie house and chose one to see. There are several good ones, and we chose The King’s Speech. We had flashbacks of the last time we went to the movies, and the film we wanted was sold out. This time it would be different, I would buy the ticket online and be assured of a seat.

Before I review the story, I’ll review the online purchase. Being a senior, I chose the Senior five dollar ticket. I clicked “Buy Ticket,” and learned that there was a dollar fifty cent convenience charge for the transaction. I went for it anyway. Then I printed the confirmation to learn that when I showed up, I would have to present the confirmation at a special window, and to bring my credit card with me. I will escape the long line at the ticket counter, I thought to myself. It is worth the extra money Like a jerk, I bought into the process. The weather was mild, and gray, but right after I printed the confirmation it began to snow.

We went about our morning and the snow fell harder. Grandma Peggy says, “we don’t have to go to the show in this bad weather, we can go tomorrow.”

“Oh yes we do,” I answered, “I have twelve bucks invested in non-refundable tickets.”

So we drove through a blinding snowfall to the movie. There was no one at the ticket window when I showed my confirmation. They gave me two tickets and we entered a ghost theater: we had the entire place to ourselves.

The King’s Speech was produced in England. The actors are all British and foreign to me. The story  is a little known piece of history about the man who ascended to the throne when his brother abdicated to  marry the love of his life. The man is the current Queen Elizabeth’s father. He was known as George the VI even though his name was Albert.

When I first read the synopsis of the film, I thought how boring is this going to be. It’s all about a guy with a speech impediment. The whole thing will be dialogue without action. I was correct, but it was not in the least bit boring. In fact, we were rivited to the seat. I don’t even recall any background music. The silence gave the story some character, and it made it easy for my state of the art electronic amplified ears to pick up the dialogue.

The staging was fabulous. The director made me feel like I was living in nineteen thirty four England. There is one scene where the elecution teacher enters Buckingham Palace by the servants entrance and they pass through a room that was lined with gas masks. In another scene the main character is asked who brought him up. He replied “a nanny.” Then proceeded to explain that the nanny  pinched him hard every day just as she took him for the viewing before his parents. That line stuck with me, as did the image of the gas masks.

The actors looked like the characters. I can still remember  seeing photos of Edward, the brother who abdicated, and his wife Wallace Simpson in newspaper articles. The queen mother is the spitting image of the Queen Elizabeth’s mother. The only one whom I didn’t recognize is the central character, her  father.

During one outdoor scene the King and his teacher walk through the park in front of the Palace. It is shrouded in fog. The picture is surreal. I recognized that garden from a visit I made to that park twenty years ago.  It is beautiful, even in a heavy fog when everything is gray.

Another landmark, I recognized is Westminster Abbey. There are scenes in the Abbey with the Archbishop. The Archbishop is a classic example of British snobbery and distaste for  the  commoner. It reminded me of  the attitude that prevails within our own society today within our Liberal Left political contingent.

The story ended too quickly, and we were left wanting to know more about this fascinating King. We were left with questions about the remainder of his life. I will have read  a book about his life to learn more.

It is easy to understand why this film has twelve nominations for the Academy Award. It is a strong contender.

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